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#i got one last one from her yesterday and it was fitting
bigmammallama5 · 2 years
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Miss old lady Sadie went night night last night. I’m glad I had 15 wonderful years with her.
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daisynik7 · 5 months
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Author's Note: Attended a wedding yesterday and those always get me weepy. 🥹 Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
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Inside the church, several pews behind the altar, you and Nanami stand beside each other, watching the bride walk down the aisle. A coworker of yours, someone you befriended throughout the years, is getting married today. She glides in her beautiful wedding dress, tears glittering in her eyes as she gazes at her soon-to-be husband just a couple feet ahead of her. Her father kisses her cheek, whispers something sweet into her ear, then leaves the two lovebirds to smile and giggle at each other before the officiant begins. That’s one of the things you like to focus on the most during weddings: the way the couple looks at each other. Seeing how much they absolutely cherish one another.
You’ve been to plenty of weddings now throughout your lifetime. Church, destination, even one at a Vegas chapel. No matter where it is, you always end up crying by the end of it, full of love and hope for the couple. Same as you were the day you and your husband got married all those years ago. 
Before you can search your purse for a tissue, Nanami reaches into his pocket, handing you a clean one. You bite your lip, holding back a smile, taking it to blot the tears collecting in your eyes. Of course he’s prepared, he always is. He knows how mushy you get at these things. Without saying a word, he slides his hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him, squeezing the side of your belly twice to get your attention. You peer up to meet his gaze, a reassuring smile on his lips. 
“What?” you mouth. 
He shakes his head, whispering back. “Nothing.” All his attention is on you rather than the couple up in the front.
You nudge him gently in the ribs, grinning. “What?”
He bows slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I was just thinking about how beautiful you are.”
You lean against him, always a perfect fit by his side. Joking, you say, “You better not be thinking anything naughty. We’re inside a church.”
He chuckles. “I suppose I’ll have to confess my sins later then.”
You remain like this until the vows, exchanging subtle touches during your favorite parts of it. Eventually, your left hand finds his to hold. He feels for the ring on your finger, the one he placed on you at your own wedding. It’s as if it happened both yesterday and centuries ago. Each passing day is just as exciting as the last, but it seems like you’ve known each other in this life and all the other past lives from before. Nanami squeezes your hip once more. “I’d do it all over again, you know.”
“What?”
“This. With you.”
You beam at him, tears returning to your eyes. “Yeah?”
He smiles back at you, genuine and sincere, like he always is. “In a heartbeat. I’d do it a million times over if it means I get to spend forever with you.”
He always knows exactly what to say to make your heart swell the same way it did the moment you fell in love with him. “Well, lucky for you, one time is enough.”
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tatoda · 9 months
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Guitar Pick | college!conrad x fem!reader
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request
masterlist
part 2
summary: you go to Brown and maybe you don’t exactly fit in, but one brown haired boy makes you feel as if you do
pairing: college!conrad fisher x fem!reader
warnings: just fluff <3
wc: 800 (sorry it's short im getting back into things)
first con fic since last year :) a little rusty on the writing i apologize. sorry it’s not so long :(
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It was the smell in the air that brought you comfort. The casual people-watching you would do as you walked down to the music store closest to campus— it wasn’t the best place to shop but it will do for the times you’re in Providence.
The ding of the door sounded as you walked through the store. The red interior with wood floors reminded you of back home, so that is why you kept coming back to the same spot every weekend. No one tried to bother you when shopping. Of course some boys would walk by and you’d glance their way, but they would never glance back at you the same way.
Picking up a guitar from one of the stands you sat down at the small corner couch. You have always loved playing any instrument, you would run around the house singing and hitting any object around the house to make drums until your aunt got you a ukulele at the age of 6 which took your dreams and desires for music to grow. Being at Brown surprised your family. They really thought you would just go to a music school, but you wanted to explore other career paths. Sometimes your parents weren’t proud of it but they supported your decision.
After a few minutes of strumming the instrument, you stood back up to get a new guitar pick. It was time for a new one— well that’s what you told yourself but you just loved shopping for new things. Reaching for a red and green one, another pair of hands reached for the same one.
“sorry.” glancing up at the voice, you see a boy maybe around your age, with brown eyes and brown hair as his cheeks turned a little red at the intersection
“no that’s my fault sorry, go ahead it’s all yours.” you gestured towards the pick.
“no, my mom raised me to be a gentleman. please take it.”
“i-“ but the tall figure cut you off
“please i was looking at another one anyways.” he looked down at you
“thanks, sorry again.” you softly grabbed it as he smiled gently at you before picking up a solid navy blue one
You didn’t think twice before you went to go pay for it and took off out of the store carrying on with your day.
The next day, you sat under a tree strumming your guitar just letting the nice weather hit for once. The shade of the tree helped you relax not being blinded by the sun. You were so busy strumming the instrument you didn’t realize the figure walking towards you.
“guitar pick girl.” the familiar voice called out making you stop in movement, the boy from yesterday. he was walking towards you wearing a Brown sweatshirt and sweatpants
“hi.” you softly introduced not knowing you would be seeing this boy again
“I’m sorry, i know it’s weird for me just to walk up like that and rude for me to not know your name. you left too quickly yesterday i tried to-to get your name but you were gone.” he played with his fingernails as he spoke
“sorry.” you smiled apologetically not knowing why this boy who you totally thought was cute was suddenly approaching you
“no worries,” he rocked on his feet “i-im Conrad, Conrad Fisher” he stuck his hand out to you and you lifted yours off the guitar
“y/n y/l/n” his eyes seemed to immediately remember the future
“how long have you been playing?”
“my whole life basically. you play?” he nods
“yeah just not too long ago maybe like a summer or 2, my mom wanted me to learn a song for her.”
“that’s sweet of you. you must be a mamas boy for the two times you have mentioned her talking to me.” you grinned at him
“yeah.” he sadly smiled and you didn’t feel like pushing him to ask about what it was all about “do you mind if i sit? you look like you need some company.” he gestured to the grass next to you
“all yours.” conrad then sat down next to you criss-cross
“what year are you?” he played with the grass that was in front of him
“junior, what about you?”
“sophomore.” you nodded and you both went silent but it wasn’t a bad silence, it was comfortable
“could i take you out sometime?” your eyes drifted over to conrad and his eyes went wide “sorry! i didn’t mean to come off so strong, i’d just like to get to know you better.” you looked down at his hands as they played with the grass faster and you put a hand over his to stop his movements
“i’d love that.” his eyes went to your hands and his visible relaxed
“i just thought you were really pretty yesterday.” that sentence made you blush and look down biting your lip
“i thought you were pretty cute too, conrad.”
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7s3ven · 3 months
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NOBODY’S SON, NOBODY’S DAUGHTER. luke (pjo) pt 3
PART 1 > PART 2 > PART 3 > PART 4 (last pt)
( masterlist )
IN WHICH… being the boyfriend of Zeus’ daughter is easy for Luke but their relationship is tested when a new arrival has his eyes set on someone in particular; Y/N.
“You’re in the wind, I’m in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter.”
Warnings : Luke ain’t gonna betray anyone this time, don’t worry, not following plot, communication problems, relationship problems, Y/N and Luke are little rocky together, a little bit of angst
TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbaby @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree
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Life was good for Luke. He was still the most respected swordsman at camp, the Hermes cabin was as energetic as ever, and he had been dating his longtime crush for months now. Everything was perfect.
“Hey Sparky.” Luke said as he walked into Y/N’s cabin without a second thought. She was still lying in bed, glaring at him with her E/C eyes that he loved so much.
“It’s six in the morning. Get out or be quiet.” Y/N waved him off but he was persistent.
“You promised to train with me.” Luke frowned, hurrying over to kneel beside Y/N’s bed.
“Tomorrow.” She muttered, closing her eyes so she could sneak in a moment more of sleep.
“You said that yesterday. And the day before. At least hold my water bottle!”
Y/N couldn’t resist Luke when he looked at her with those puppy eyes. Eventually, she found herself standing in the centre of the arena dressed in loosely fitting armour and holding a heavy sword. “I never agreed to this.” She muttered, furrowing her eyebrows.
She wasn’t even fully dressed, still in her pjs under the armour, while Luke was ready to go. He took a huge gulp of cold water from his bottle, grinning.
“Just one round, Sparky. Fight me like you mean it and I’ll let you sit out.”
But fighting Luke was never an easy feat. Five minutes later, Y/N was still locked in a complicated battle with her brown-haired sweetheart.
“Slow down, will you? I just woke up.” She muttered, sloppily blocking a blow that was aimed at her chest. Luke merely chuckled, swinging his weapon even faster.
“Sorry, Sparky. But I’ve got to train somehow.”
“By almost maiming your girlfriend?!” Y/N exclaimed as she ducked. She quickly rolled across the ground and stood up behind Luke.
“Yeah. Something like that.” He sent her a mischievous wink as he spun around, metal clashing against metal. Y/N scoffed, kicking his ankles. She liked to play dirty. In one of their first capture the flag matches, Y/N had bit Luke. And had drawn blood. That was the start to their close relationship.
“I’m tired, Luke.” She complained, slouching. “Let me rest.” Despite wanting to continue training, Luke let Y/N off easy. He knew he wouldn’t get another mock fight out of her in this state. She happily skipped over to the bench, lying down on it.
A ghost of a smile appeared on Luke’s lips as he stared at Y/N. Her head suddenly turned and Luke bashfully looked away. Nothing could make him shy… nothing but Y/N. She laughed at him, knowing the effect she had on Luke.
“I’m going to change. And maybe get some last-minute sleep. You wanna come or are you gonna stay here and train?” Y/N raised her eyebrows as she took her armor off. Luke was quick to drop his sword and unbuckle his chest-plate.
“I’ll come with.” He said. Y/N muffled her laughter and simply knocked Luke to the side with her hip.
“New kids sure are pouring in.” Y/N mumbled. Just yesterday, another boy had arrived. He was around Y/N and Luke’s age, which was uncommon for newcomers. How had he managed to avoid the monsters for so long?
“Remember when that girl tried flirting with me last week?” Luke asked, chuckling to himself. Y/N quietly snickered as she nodded her head.
Just last week, a new girl had began flirting with Luke. People tried to warn her but she didn’t listen. Y/N hadn’t even stepped out of her cabin before Clarisse pinned the newbie to the cold ground and forced her to stay away from Luke.
“Clarisse sure is working hard to prevent anybody interested from approaching us.” Y/N found it amusing because Clarisse never cared about couples until Y/N and Luke started dating.
“So. You up for training again tomorrow?” Luke questioned, changing the topic. Y/N playfully scoffed.
“Luke, you know your my second favourite boy… but no.” Y/N didn’t know how many more late nights and early mornings she could take.
“Second? Who’s first?” Luke sped up slightly, furrowing his eyebrows at Y/N.
“Percy.” She shrugged, “Sorry, Luke, but he’s a better breakfast buddy. And he doesn’t wake me up at the crack of dawn.”
Luke lightly pouted. He knew Y/N was joking but there was no way Percy was ranked above him. “I won’t wake you up early anymore.” He uttered, making Y/N pause.
“I guess I’ll have to change my list then. Percy’s been demoted to number two.”
Immediately, Luke’s eyes lit up. If he were a dog, his tail would’ve been wagging back and forth. Luke opened the cabin door, letting Y/N walk in first before he followed.
“We still have an hour before breakfast so Luke, don’t disturb me. Do whatever you want as long as it doesn’t wake me up.” Y/N sternly pointed at him and he mockingly saluted.
“Yes, ma’am.”
While Y/N lay down, Luke resorted to looking around the cabin. There wasn’t anything of significant interest apart from the closet shoved into a deserted corner, which Luke ignored. The last time he opened a mysterious closet, he was dragged into it. Of course, it was a prank meant for an Athena kid but they were too smart to fall for it. Especially when said closet was placed in the middle of a flower field.
Luke looked at Y/N, who was already sound asleep. He smiled, creeping over to the side of the bed. He found peaceful solitude in tracing his eyes over Y/N’s soft features. He would’ve stared at her for hours if she didn’t groggily wake up five minutes later.
“You’re distracting.” She groaned, glaring at Luke.
“I’m not even doing anything this time, Sparky!” Of course, as Y/N’s boyfriend plus friend, it was his job to annoy her. “How am I distracting?”
“Your staring is distracting. Come over here.” Y/N motioned to the spot beside her on the unusually large bed. Luke gleefully climbed in, immediately hugging Y/N. He was as affectionate as ever, even more so now that they were officially together.
Y/N hummed as Luke tilted her chin up, lightly kissing her. “Luke.” She mumbled against his lips, “I wanna sleep.”
“Five more minutes.” He uttered those famous words.
“Sleep now, act like a couple later.” Y/N pulled away, lying down on Luke’s chest. She closed her eyes, sighing deeply.
“Can I come with you when you teach the newbies to sword fight? I’m in the mood for watching you pummel them.”
Luke chuckled, hugging Y/N even tighter. “Sure, Sparky. I’ll try not to embarrass myself too much.”
Y/N sat on the bench, beaming at Luke. His eyes remained glued to her despite one of the younger kids tripping over their own feet.
“Hey, you’re Y/N, right?”
She almost jumped when someone sat beside her. Suddenly, Luke’s face shifted. Y/N turned her head, glancing at the boy beside her.
“Oh. Yeah. Um, you’re one of the new kids, right?” Y/N questioned, tilting her head to the side.
“Yeah. I just got here yesterday. I’m honestly still a little confused so it’d be great if you could show me around.” He smiled, showing off his pearly white teeth.
“I guess I could try? I’m a little busy because of my duties as head counsellor. By default, of course. Because I’m the only one in my cabin.”
“Oh, who’s your godly parent?”
Y/N hesitated for a second before she cleared her throat. “… Zeus.” She wasn’t proud of having him as her father. He was unbearable, especially when he ignored her for so long then proceeded to act as if he hadn’t.
“That’s cool. Can you control lightning or something?”
“Perhaps. Percy has some water powers so maybe it applies to me too.” Y/N shrugged. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Luke excuse himself from the campers across the arena.
Y/N watched him with bated breath as he approached her. “Hey. Is there something wrong with your armour?” He asked the boy beside Y/N. “Because we’re going to start mock fights soon. Clarisse will be monitoring.” Luke jabbed a thumb over his shoulder.
“Ah, no. Everything’s good. Don’t worry. My armor’s fine.” The unnamed boy stood up, walking over to the rest of the group.
“What was that for?” Y/N softly asked, “He was only asking for some help.”
“He was flirting, Y/N.” Luke cooly replied, sitting down next to her. “I know guys like that. Their way of flirting is asking for help.”
“You don’t know that, Luke.”
“Yes. I do, Y/N.”
“The overprotective nature was cute at first, Luke. But you can’t assume every guy who talks to me is interested in me.”
“I see the way they look at you. I mean, how could they not? You’re beautiful and kind and great at fighting and on top of that, you’re Zeus daughter.”
“I chose you, Luke. Not any of the other guys desperate for my attention. You think I’m not jealous when I see girls giggling at you? Of course I am. But I know that you’re mine. And you have to know that my heart only belongs to you.”
Luke cracked a small grin. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m sorry, Y/N. I just got jealous.”
“It’s okay, Luke. I’m sorry I called your overprotectiveness annoying. It’s not. I still think it’s cute. I was just caught up in the moment. I guess I just didn’t want to feel helpless. A daughter of Zeus should not be helpless.”
“You aren’t helpless. Whoever thinks that you are needs a major reality check.” Luke shook his head, glancing over at Clarisse. “You wanna get out of here?” He whispered, nudging Y/N.
“I, um, actually agreed to show him around.” Y/N mumbled, pointing over at the boy. Luke pressed his lips into a thin line.
“Okay.” He gently said, nodding his head. “I’ll keep Annabeth company while you show him around. But if he tries anything funny, I will punch him.” Luke warned.
“I know, Luke. I know.” She smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. She was partly hoping that the boy from before saw their interaction so he would put whatever sneaky schemes he had to rest.
“So, let me get this straight, Annabeth found out Percy was Poseidon’s child when Clarisse cornered him in a bathroom… and shoved his head into a toilet?” Y/N raised an eyebrow as she picked another strawberry, placing it in the straw basket Luke was holding.
“Yeah. And then Percy practically attacked her with toilet water.” Luke chuckled to himself as he bit into a strawberry. “Annabeth told me all about it. It was hilarious.”
“Sounds like Percy.” Y/N replied, plucking a few more berries. She handed one to Luke, who took it like a child being given candy.
“So, how was showing that boy around?”
“Well, I thought his name was Alston and it took about two hours for me to realise that his name was actually Allen. He never corrected me so I never knew.”
Luke huffed in amusement as he slung his arm around Y/N’s shoulder. “Sounds like you. Any idea of what cabin he’d gonna be in?”
“Ares.” Y/N immediately answered, taking Luke by surprise. “He’s hungry for power. He has a thirst for it. And he can’t seem to tear his eyes off the Ares kids, it’s like he’s drawn to them. What about you?”
“Good guess. Ares as well for me.”
“Are you sure you aren’t just copying me?”
Their playful banter went on for quite some time. It was normal for the couple to tease and push. That’s how they were before they started dating too.
“Have you ever tried chocolate on strawberries?” Luke asked, picking up another red berry.
“I’m not obsessed with them like you are, Luke.” Y/N was never much of a sugar person. She liked desserts for a certain extent and chocolate wasn’t her favourite like Luke’s was.
“How come I have a cute nickname for you and you don’t have one for me?” Luke questioned, gazing down at Y/N.
“I’m not big on pet names. And I could hardly call Sparky cute. Unless you want to be called messenger boy, don’t push it.”
“I’ll message you my heart.” Luke grinned as he pulled out a slip of paper that was stamped with a red heart.
“What’s this?” Y/N turned it over but Luke stopped her from opening it.
“Read it when I’m gone otherwise I’ll be too embarrassed. It’s just a little gift for my amazing girlfriend.” Luke quickly kissed her before he hurried off, taking the strawberries with him.
Y/N sat down in a sunny patch and opened the letter, staring at Luke’s neat handwriting. “A love letter…” She whispered, her eyes widening. She has received plenty of love letters before, mostly before she came to Camp, but Luke’s felt special. He was pouring his heart out to her through his inked words and messily drawn hearts.
“Hey Y/N. What ya reading?”
She held back a small scoff as Allen approached her, hands clasped behind her back.
“Something private.” She said, hoping he would get the hint. But he didn’t.
“Is it a love letter? Who still writes those, these days?” Allen plucked the letter from Y/N’s grasp and before she could stop him, he dunked it in a nearby puddle. “Oops.” He merely smirked.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Y/N seethed, watching as the ink bled out from off the paper and Luke’s beloved words floated away.
“You’ll get another love letter. No need to be so uptight.” Allen laughed, not noticing how Y/N’s vision flashed red with anger. She was never one to get furious but Luke’s gifts meant the world to her.
“Are you crazy? Stupid? Perhaps mentally impaired? Why would you do that? Even if the letter didn’t mean much to me, you have no right to grab it and ruin it!” Y/N stood up, wobbling from side to side. Her body felt unusually heavy.
“It was just a joke, Y/N.” Allen reached out to touch her. He grasped her wrist but was suddenly flung back by an unknown force. As he lifted his hand, he yelped. It had been burnt, and badly. His skin was sizzling and some parts were even charred black.
“Don’t touch me again.” Y/N muttered, storming off. Allen clicked his tongue, watching her leave.
“Crazy bitch.” He muttered under his breath. He went to the infirmary and got his hand patched up before returning to the Hermes cabin.
“Yo, what happened to your hand?” Chris asked almost immediately. Luke’s eyes flickered over to the bandage that was wrapped around Allen’s hand.
“Y/N. The crazy girl went ballistic after her little love letter fell in water. I grabbed her and then she flung me back. I didn’t even know she could do that.” Allen scoffed.
Luke didn’t wait around to hear the rest. He was out of the cabin before Allen could say another word. He burst into Y/N’s room, making an instant beeline for her figure hiding beneath the blankets.
“Go away, Clarisse. I told you, I don’t want to talk.” Y/N said, shifting around.
“It’s not Clarisse, Sparky. What happened? Why’d you burn Allen?”
Y/N slowly slid the covers off her head. “I didn’t mean to. I was so angry that I didn’t know what was happening. He dunked your letter in water, Luke! So I snapped at him and he tried to stop me from leaving by grabbing me. And I don’t know how it happened, but I burnt him and sent him crashing into the strawberry bushes.
“Oh… are the strawberries okay?” Luke furrowed his eyebrows together, concerned.
“Luke,” Y/N glowered at him, “This is about me! Not the strawberries!” She hit his chest. “It’s not like it’s my fault he touched me. He deserved it anyway.”
“I know, Sparky. I know. I’ll take care of him. You just focus on calming down. It’s not your fault. I’ll write you a million letters if you need.” Luke hugged her, pressing a long kiss to the side of her head. She laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“Thanks, Luke.” She mumbled, pressing her face deeper into his shirt.
“I love you, Y/N.”
Y/N froze. She stiffly rested in Luke’s embrace, staring blankly at his bright orange shirt. An awkward silence rested between the pair and even though Luke didn’t comment on her lack of response, he still wondered why didn’t she reply?
“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair how we’re always fighting against the Hermes and Athena cabin?” Clarisse said as she sharpened her sword. She clicked her tongue.
“It is a little unfair. Annabeth is always one step ahead of us.” Y/N sighed. She clenched her jaw when she spotted Allen walking towards her. “Oh, great. Jerk alert.” She whispered to Clarisse, rolling her eyes.
“I’ll leave you to beat him up.” The Ares girl replied, shoving her way past Allen.
“Y/N. Hey. I just wanna say that I’m sorry. I didn’t know the letter meant that much to you.”
She stared at him, unimpressed. “Okay.” She murmured.
“Okay? That’s it? I apologised to you and all you say is okay?” Allen scoffed.
“Just because you apologised doesn’t mean I forgive you.” Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes in fear they would get stuck. She spent so much time being annoyed with people.
“Do you have to be such a bitch about it?” Allen snapped.
Y/N deeply inhaled. She stiffly smiled at Allen before standing up. “I have to go.” She uttered, brushing past the boy. But just like last time, he grabbed her hand and unfortunately for her, there was no electricity to save her.
“Accept my apology.” He said, gripping her arm so tight he may as well leave a bruise.
“I told you not to touch me.” Y/N tried to pull her arm out of his grasp but he was relentless.
“Leave me alone, okay!” She exclaimed, lifting her other hand and slapping Allen’s check. “Stay away from me, you creep! Honestly!”
Y/N scoffed in disgust, storming off. She went to go find Luke, but she found him on the porch of the Aphrodite cabin, talking to the same girl that tested their relationship before it even started.
Y/N slowly licked her lips and looked away, fidgeting with her hands. She decided to leave Luke alone for now, ignoring the dull ache she felt in her chest.
After months of pure happiness, everything was coming crashing down. And there was nothing Y/N could do to stop it. She sighed, collapsing on her own wooden porch. A new game of capture the flag was going to start soon and she didn’t have time to brood.
“Hey, you good?” Clarisse asked as Y/N slid her helmet over her head and the first conch blew. Y/N simply smiled, nodding over at her best friend.
“Yeah. I’m good. Don’t worry about it, Clari.” She smiled again to reassure Clarisse. She glanced over at Luke and the Aphrodite girl, whose name was Lana. They were laughing together. They had been for the past few days. Y/N didn’t know if it was her or Luke but lately, they hadn’t been talking at all.
Clarisse followed her gaze and pieced everything together. “You can switch positions with someone else.” She offered because they both knew Luke was going to be the one to get the flag. “Today feels like an offence day for you anyway.”
Y/N silently smiled at Clarisse as she switched jobs with one of the Ares kids.
“Thanks, Clari.”
“No problem, baby. If it weren’t for Luke, I might’ve dated you myself.” Clarisse playfully smirked while Y/N laughed.
“If it weren’t for him, I might’ve taken you up on that offer.”
Communication was important in a relationship but for some reason, Y/N and Luke could never talk peacefully. It always turned into argument and one, if not both of them, would turn away hurt.
Y/N was ready to go by the time the second conch blew. Usually, she guarded her team’s flag but today, she was hunting through the woods. Each of her opponents were more surprised than the last to see her because it was always Luke’s job to duel against her. He was really the only one who could beat her.
“We surrender.” The blue leader said, hands help up. Y/N smiled, slinging her spear over her shoulder.
“Easy peasy.” She said to her teammates, who laughed with her. “This might be the quickest game yet. Let’s grab that flag and get outta here.”
Y/N didn’t know who she was expecting to be guarding the blue flag. Maybe Percy or Chris or even Annabeth herself. But not Luke.
He easily disarmed her teammates, leaving Y/N for last. “Rematch, Sparky?” He uttered, mockingly swinging his sword.
“Really? We don’t talk for a few days and that’s all you say?” Y/N replied as she blocked the blow.
“Well, last I recall, you’re always busy with Allen.”
“Not willingly. You know that.”
“What was he doing in the arena with you then?”
Y/N scoffed. “Annoying me. What are you and Lana always talking about?”
“Don’t turn this on me, Sparky.” Luke warned as he stepped to the side, barely avoiding Y/N’s weapon.
“We really need to figure our shit out, Luke. Maybe somewhere that’s not on a battlefield.”
Y/N and Luke were both headstrong and stubborn, which is what made communication so hard in the first place.
“Lana’s only a friend, Y/N. Barely that. I’m only helping her. What do you call Allen?”
“An obnoxious fly.” Y/N whacked Luke in the head, taking him by surprise.
“You seem closer than that. He’s always touching you.”
“And every time he does, I wish I could burn him. Are you sure you aren’t jealous?”
“Are you sure you aren’t? Your eyes are always on Lana.”
“Because she likes you, Luke. And she hasn’t gotten the hint that you’re taken.”
Y/N’s teammates exchanged looks and quietly crawled away from the now private conversation.
“Why don’t you trust me, Y/N? You know I’d never cheat on you.” Luke furrowed his eyebrows as he wiped away beads of sweat with the back of his hand.
“You have to trust me first. Why would I choose Allen over you? That seems like an unfair deal.”
“Maybe you just like the attention. I mean, you didn’t even say you love me back.” Luke shrugged, stepped back to avoid his leg from being slashed by Y/N’s blade.
“I’m not ready for that, Luke! You know what,” Y/N paused gripping her spear tightly. “I’m sick of this. I’m sick of arguing and not trusting each other. A relationship requires trust and despite being friends before all this, we’re doing a lousy job of it. So…”
Y/N pursed her lips as she trailed off. “So, maybe we’re just trying to make something impossible work.”
Luke suddenly froze, realising the small argument was going somewhere he didn’t want it to. “You don’t mean that, Y/N.”
“… I do. Luke, we’ve been avoiding each other and over what? Stupid things. You’re blaming me for talking to guys and I’m getting mad at you for even looking at other girls. Luke, we’re not in a stable relationship. We’re both insecure and there’s no communication between us. Don’t you see it? I think the best thing to do here… is take a break.”
It was silent, save for the chirping birds. In the distance, Y/N could hear Clarisse let out a battle cry. Luke sighed, stepping aside. “Just… take the flag, Y/N. Take it. I don’t care about it anymore.”
“We’re going to talk about this later, Luke.”
“Yeah. I know, Sparky. Just… go.” He heaved another heavy sigh, almost shaking. Y/N gripped the flag, sparing Luke one more glance before she sprinted through the forest.
Luke watched as she not only stole the flag but also his heart with it.
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lazyjellyfish300 · 5 months
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Miguel O'Hara parenting head canons
I randomly thought of this and thought it would be fun as a new young mom myself to make this list. These are just things I pulled from my brain of what I imagine he'd be like as a parent. Reader is his s/o.
TW: minors DNI, slightly suggestive, breeding, child free, infertility, parenting, childbirth
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Pt 2 as well:
-His kids come first over everything. In the universe where he's a single dad to Gabi he definitely takes a longggg time before introducing anyone he's dating to Gabi. He wouldn't introduce them to her unless he's 10000% committed and sees a future with them.
-One of the best ways to crack through his rough exterior or grumpy moods is to ask him about his kids. Especially if you have kids of your own, start talking about them and he'll slowly forget what he's doing and listen/calm down (proof: when Peter brings Mayday to work) and when it comes to talking about his own kids he'll rattle on and on.
-He goes the extra mile on Christmas for Gabi. He's normally cheap/frugal asf but not on Christmas. Gets her a stocking and buys so much stuff it barely fits in the stocking.
-Gabi loves stuffed animals. Her bed is like piled high with squishables and squashmallows. Miguel knows each one's name.
-If you don't want kids/child free or can't, no problem. As long as you love Gabi as much as he does Miguel doesn't have issues. He still loves you & you two still share a lasting love based around love of travel and adventure and he's extremely sensitive to your feelings. (Aka he nearly fought your aunt at Thanksgiving for asking when you two are going to have kids)
-if you have kids already/want kids ooooh he's trying to get you pregnant yesterday. And he absolutely adores your kids as much as his own. He never uses the word "step," when describing his step kids. He's a little intimidating at pick up but he's civil with your ex, mostly for your sake. He loves the family life with you and is on board for whatever fun craft night/family game night/movie night ideas you have. He supports you if you have a career or if you want to stay home with the kids he is behind you 100%.
-He definitely does not have McDonald's money. (We have food at home)
-He believes in the theory of Gentle parenting but has a hard time applying it. (catches himself being kind of hard on the kids but he's determined to break the cycle and be the father he never had, always apologizes to the kids)
-He thinks Disneyland is way overpriced and over hyped but he loves going purely for yours and Gabi's reaction to the magic. He carries Gabi on his shoulders and carries her in his arms when she naps after a long day at Disney when you head back to the hotel.
-He does tea parties/plays dolls with Gabi 1000% but he forgets to stay in character when playing with dolls and Gabi has to remind him to use his girly voice.
-learned how to do hairstyles for Gabi and always braids her hair/does ponytails for her soccer games. He's a bit of a perfectionist at it and has made them late for games in the past because he wants to get it right.
-If you want kids, you want like 2 or 3 max and he goes along with whatever you want because it's your body your choice, but if it was up to him he'd want like 5 or 6.
-He definitely gets a little too carried away at the kid's sports games and got into an argument with the ref at Gabi's soccer game once, but after you had a stern talking to him now he just mutters under his breath after every call.
- He's at every single doctor's appointment and asks the pediatrician way too many questions.
- He loves taking Gabi and the kids trick or treating on Halloween while you stay warm at home with the younger kids/babies. He definitely dresses up in a scary costume and sits on the porch really still like a statue and scares the kids.
- He completely misses the fact that all the moms at soccer practice and school pick up are flirting with him.
-When the kids are sick he's the first one to offer to call off work to stay home. If you don't work then he'll take a sick day to be with you and the kids.
- he's actually a really good cook, but when it comes to packing the kids lunches he's more of a simple man (pb& j or turkey sandwich with carrot sticks, goldfish, and milk) whereas you go all out with the star shaped fruit, cutting the crust off the sandwiches and handwritten notes.
- he's a workaholic but he'll miss work or a meeting for Gabi's choir performances any day.
-overly excited for the science fair at Gabi's school and is involved with her project/signs up to be one of the judges.
-he's at every single parent teacher conference
- He has a no cell phones at dinner rule, and is big on talking with the kids, asking about their day and school.
- if you want kids, he's at all your prenatal appointments and saves all the ultrasound pics and cried when you told him you're pregnant
-he completely passed out on the guest couch for like 5 hours straight in your hospital room after your delivery because he was awake all night with you tending to you and the new baby, helping you to the bathroom with your postpartum undies and changing the baby's diaper
-blood doesn't bother him at all, being the scientist he is he asks the doctor a lot of questions and is comfortable watching the medical procedures while you're in labor.
-he babies you when you're pregnant and occupies the kids so you can rest/won't let you go anywhere by yourself/carry anything heavier than 5 pounds.
-definitely cries at his daughters wedding but complains about the cost of everything through the whole planning process.
-also gets teary at the kids graduation, brings in noisemakers/giant posters even though the principal said not to.
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roosterforme · 4 months
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The Intern Part 2 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Five minutes into an interview with you, and Bradley knew he was in trouble. You were attractive, funny and smart, and now the summer was stretching out before him like an obstacle course he would have to navigate carefully. At least a visit from an old friend should be enough to help him work through his frustrations.
Warnings: Language, mentions of smut and masturbation (eventually 18+)
Length: 4200 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
The Intern masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner by @mak-32
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When Bradley got to the Avio headquarters the following morning, he rode the elevator up to his office. He'd already eaten breakfast, gone for a long run and taken a shower, and he was still one of the first ones here. Except for Judy. He smiled when her desk came into view as he turned toward his office door. She was sweet, and it scared him a little bit how much she reminded him of his mom. She was a widow with one son in college, and Bradley would be lost without her. 
"Morning," she said, handing him his mail as he walked past without her even looking up at him. "You have a very busy day, and I already turned on your coffee maker."
He really needed to give her another raise. "Thanks, Judy. Hey, what time is that interview I have?" he asked, flipping through the stack of envelopes in his hand. 
Now she looked up from her computer and met his eyes. "Nine o'clock. And it's Ted's daughter."
"I know," he replied with a small smile. 
"Do you really think she would be a good fit? You'll be working on the yacht for weeks, and all she has is a graduate degree and a daddy with a bankroll." She handed him your résumé with a concerned look.
He shrugged as he skimmed the page again. "She has some related work experience. She volunteered to run the finances for a handful of Philadelphia based charities every year. Her references include the Philadelphia deputy mayor. But you're right, she's pretty green. I'll take this with me," he said as he held the résumé up and headed for his door. "Let me know when she arrives."
"Will do," Judy muttered. 
Bradley made himself another cup of coffee before he settled into his seat. His office had a fantastic view of the Pacific Ocean in the distance along with the Naval base at North Island where he'd spent several years working. Sometimes he missed it, other times he didn't. Flying was in his blood, but after five air-to-air kills, it seemed like he'd given up enough of his soul to the Navy. Now he was helping oversee the design of software components that would help keep aviators safer in the air. 
He turned his gaze from the view outside back to your resume. Your name at the top made him smile, and the more he read about you, the more he liked. None of the other people begging him for a job in his department had the same level of academic chops or philanthropic endeavors you did. And he couldn't imagine you begging for a single damn thing, ever. He tapped his keyboard, wondering what your LinkedIn profile looked like. 
Well. Your photo was gorgeous. It was professional looking without a doubt, but he knew better now that the way your smile tilted a little higher on one side meant you were about to deliver a line that would make him laugh. He wondered if you'd had the photographer smiling nonstop, too. 
Bradley paused with his fingers on his keyboard, but he couldn't help it. He typed your full name into the search bar and sorted it by images. There were more headshots of you from academic articles and a few newspapers, but when he scrolled he almost spit his coffee out. There was one of you wearing that same bikini you had on yesterday. When he clicked it for more, it took him to your private instagram page. 
He stared at that tiny thumbnail before he closed his eyes. Really, the way you looked wasn't why he asked you to come here today, and he'd spent a good portion of last evening trying to focus on anything other than how it felt to have your body pressed against his while he held you.
"Fuck," he grunted. He really needed to get laid. He made another mental note next to the one about Judy's raise. He would call one of his friends with benefits and get that taken care of, because if you agreed to join him for a couple months on the company yacht, he'd probably see that bikini again and again. And there was no way he could touch Ted's daughter. Not like that. Even if he wanted to.
And that thought brought him back to the main reason you would be here in the next few minutes. What kind of information could he get out of you? Bradley noticed that the profit and loss sheets from several departments didn't seem to add up. That had been the case for two quarters in a row. When he mentioned it to one of the harried looking accountants one floor down, he told Bradley they wouldn't have time to run an unnecessary audit before next quarter started. 
Someone in this company was doing something shady, and Bradley wanted to know who it was and why. He'd gone over those numbers for days, double checking his math. He knew he wasn't crazy, but he didn't know who he could safely take this information to, especially when the specs on the software they were creating was considered top secret. 
"Your interview is here," Judy's voice suddenly announced through his intercom.
Bradley quickly closed out of the photo of you in a bathing suit that was still on his screen and slammed his laptop shut. "Send her in."
A few seconds later, Judy was holding the door open for you, and you thanked her as you strolled in like you owned the company. Your hair was styled in some sort of clip, and you were wearing a perfectly tailored black suit. Bradley shook his head; it was rich that you called him out for his proclivity for Armani when yours was probably worth three times as much. His gaze drifted down your legs. Your black and white heels were the kinds of things he would love to have thrown over his shoulders in bed, and the bit of white silk peeking out above your jacket buttons reminded him of your skimpy pajamas. 
Inviting you here was a terrible idea. 
You smirked as you ran your right index finger along the charm from Tiffany's that hung from your necklace, and then you reached out to shake his hand over his desk. "Mr. Bradshaw. So lovely to see you again today." Your voice was playful, and Bradley gestured for you to take a seat while he tried his best to gather his thoughts. 
"I was a little afraid you'd show up in your bathing suit," he said, and you nodded as you crossed your legs and set your leather portfolio on your lap. 
"I can certainly understand the cause for that concern," you replied, not missing a beat. "However, I promise you'll see nothing but Armani suits from here on out if I end up coming to the office every day. Now what would you have me do for you all summer? Fetch your coffee? Give you the abridged version of the Wall Street Journal? Sit in on pointless meetings in the conference room across the hallway?"
"That's just it," he said, tilting his head to the side and taking in your neutral expression. He hardly knew what to do with the fact that you made him feel warm and slightly uncomfortable when you were being sassy. "We wouldn't be here at all. And actually, you could wear your bathing suit and swim half the time for all I cared."
Your eyes lit up immediately as you leaned closer to his desk. "This sounds like a trap, but please, carry on. Tell me more."
He chuckled as he moved a little closer to you as well. "I'm being tasked with taking a few weeks to a couple months on the company yacht in the Mediterranean. I have the technical knowledge as well as the access to arrange meetings with members of Avio's European sales team to close some deals. This is all top secret information, but since you've got the right connections, I'll go ahead and tell you that the US government has given us the greenlight to sell our software to a select list of countries."
You licked your lips, and Bradley could barely focus as you said, "So you'll be the one calling all the shots. And you need to have access to some of these countries to schedule meetings and dinners and cocktail parties. You'll be working from the yacht in much the same capacity you are currently working from your office, still expected to head the research department here. But you'll have the added workload of trying to answer questions and sell the software in Europe? Did I miss anything?"
Bradley's eyes went a little wide as he chuckled. "No. Not really."
You were smiling now. "This sounds like half work and half sorority party, and let me tell you, I am more than capable of making both of those things go as smoothly for you as possible."
"Yeah," he said, his voice a little raspy now. "But you'll have to put up with me. And some of these clients have been known to be a little difficult in... a variety of different ways." Bradley's mind drifted to last summer when he'd been on the yacht for a week as well as the summer before that. The wealthier a man becomes, the more he seems to think he could have whatever he wants, and Bradley had seen some wild shit. "But I'll do my best to keep you comfortable and safe. The workload will be intense, to say the least. But it'll all be happening on a one hundred and thirty foot superyacht." 
You eyed him carefully. "This sounds like it was custom made for me, so you either want me or you don't, Mr. Bradshaw." 
Bradley smiled, and his gaze followed your hand as you touched that pretty charm again. "Oh... I want you plenty. Something tells me yachts and Mediterranean vacations are something you simply grew up with. I'm just trying to sell myself now."
The way you laughed reminded him once again of that night in December when you asked him if he wanted to share a bottle of wine with you. "You're very persuasive, Mr. Bradshaw. I can practically smell the sunblock and taste the pasta from here." You bit your lip and considered him, and it felt to Bradley like you could see every flaw and indiscretion inside of him. "Where did you go to school anyway? Yale? Brown? No wait... you look like a Princeton boy to me."
He shook his head as he pointed to his college diploma on the wall. "I went to a state school." 
You gasped, and your eyes went wide as you muttered, "Jesus," while you read it. "Political science? At the University of Virginia? Oh... you should be lying to people. I mean, at least say you went to Dartmouth."
Bradley tried and failed to hold in his laughter, because you truly looked scandalized by this turn of events. "Aww, come on, Ivy League. It's not so bad."
You sputtered with laughter, too. "Did you just call me Ivy League?"
"I sure did," he told you, still laughing. "It's about ten times nicer than what I was going to say."
Your soft gasp as your eyes positively lit up made Bradley's heart beat a little faster. "Well, what were you going to say?" you asked before biting your lip. 
Shit. You were trouble, and you knew it. "Never mind. My lips are sealed. Can't say that to Ted's daughter."
You sighed and rolled your eyes. "You're no fun right now, but I'm sure as soon as I get you loosened up in some Armani swim trunks on the yacht, you'll be an absolute pleasure for me to deal with."
The way Bradley's cock was twitching should have been warning enough. He was about to get in over his head. But all he could say was, "Does that mean you want the internship?"
Your smile tilted up a little higher on the one side. "Oh, absolutely." Then you stood before him looking like the cat who got the cream, and Bradley had to hope for the best as he stood as well. He could mark this as the first time he'd ever become slightly aroused during an interview, a sign that he desperately needed to get laid. 
He shook your hand and said, "We leave in a few days. Judy will help you get your visas in order. Sound good?"
"Sounds perfect, Mr. Bradshaw." 
The way you here still holding his hand and calling him Mr. Bradshaw left his voice barely louder than a rasp. "Judy and I will be in touch."
You turned and shot him a smile over your shoulder as you headed for his office door, and Bradley dropped back down in his chair. He'd call Callie about getting together to hook up before he left for Europe, but he had another more important call to make first. He cleared his throat as he opened his contacts and then put his phone on speaker. He was greeted with a familiar voice filled with laughter.
"Rooster! When are you going to get that yacht warmed up for me?"
Bradley just shook his head and said, "Hangman. You're not going to believe who my summer intern is."
------------------------------
You were floating on a raft in the pool wearing your second favorite bathing suit when you were greeted by the sound of your father's voice. "I sincerely hope you know what you're doing by wasting your time right now."
"Daddy," you greeted with a smile. "My day was a complete and utter success."
He checked his watch as he said, "Please, elaborate."
You had the trump card, but you knew all too well what it would be like if you didn't. Instead of lecturing you like you could tell he wanted to, he smiled when you said, "I have a job."
"Where?" 
"Avio."
He nodded in appreciation as he said, "I am actually impressed right now. You managed to secure an internship at the company I've spent decades with, and you did so without me knowing anything about it. Which department?"
"Research and development," you replied smoothly.
His eyes went wider. "With Bradley Bradshaw?"
Your tummy swooped, and you sucked in a breath at the mere mention of his name. Spending weeks working with him and entertaining guests with him was going to be... well, something. "Yes. With Bradley Bradshaw."
"Sweetheart," your father said. "He had a career in the Navy."
"Yes. He was an aviator," you recalled from his Avio bio.
"That means he's not going to put up with any nonsense. You don't make him repeat himself, and you don't give him attitude. I'll know immediately if he's displeased with you, I'm sure."
Bradley didn't seem stuffy. He'd already encouraged you to pack your bathing suits. Hell, you were determined to get him to join you in some fun. "Well maybe not immediately as he and I will be on the Avio yacht in the Mediterranean."
Your father stared at you, speechless. Finally he said, "I really don't know how you managed to get exactly what you wanted, but I applaud you, Sweetheart. Well done. I know it sounds fun, but you'll be kept very busy. I hope you know what you're in for."
When he finally wandered back inside after you promised to join him for dinner, you soaked up the last few rays of the dying sunlight. Then you made a mental list of everything you needed to spend the next few days packing as you brushed up on your French and Italian.  "J'adore mon travail. Amo il mio lavoro. I love my job."
--------------------------
Bradley was still chuckling as he got off the phone with Ted a few days later. Your father tried to warn him that you could be a bit of a handful. Like Bradley wasn't fully aware of that fact. As if he hadn't known since December. He could practically hear your disdain for his alma mater and your delight in international travel from his condo.
He was stacking his suits up in his extra bedroom along with several pairs of shoes, and he shook his head as he looked down at his swim trunks in his hands. They actually were all Armani, and you'd have a field day when you realized it. Or perhaps skinny dipping would become a thing?
Fuck. He needed to stop thinking about you like that. Callie Bassett was on her way over, so that should help alleviate some of this tension. He'd been friends with Halo for over a decade, and she had slowly and naturally turned into a friend with benefits over time. She was still in the Navy, and she was discreet. It was easier than having a girlfriend. It was all he had time for. 
As he organized his suits, he remembered you told him he looked like a Princeton boy. He could just picture you with a parade of preppy assholes following you around, and he wondered if you ever slummed it with anyone like him before. It made him want to pack some of his casual clothes including his Virgina baseball cap and his worn out golf shorts. So he did. 
Then his doorbell buzzed, and he went to let Callie in. He needed this taken care of right now. She smelled good, and she looked cute. She always did. And she wore something a little skimpy just for him. The kiss on his cheek in greeting quickly turned to her lips brushing his as she said, "I haven't seen you in weeks."
"Been busy," he replied, taking her by the hand and heading for his bedroom. "And I'm leaving for Portugal on Saturday."
"How long?" she asked, pouting a little bit as Bradley reached for the hem of her dress and eased it up and over her head in one fluid motion. 
"Couple months," he whispered, taking in her soft, naked body with his gaze. 
"Months?" she whined as he wrapped his hands around her waist and smirked at her. 
"Don't even act like we are anything close to exclusive, Cal. Now... how do you want it?"
She licked her lips and looked up at him with those familiar dark eyes just as his phone rang in his pocket. He didn't hesitate or check the number; he never did. "Bradshaw."
"Hey, State School. I have a few questions for you."
Bradley froze with your voice in his ear and Callie's fingers on his zipper. He grunted softly as she eased it down and touched him. He just knew if he closed his eyes and listened to your voice, he'd probably finish in her hand within two minutes. 
"Ivy League," he rasped, taking a step back away from Halo who was now standing before him completely naked and rolling her eyes.
"Are you busy?" you asked, and Bradley looked Halo in the eyes without remorse as he answered you.
"No. I'm not busy. I can talk." He held up one finger and zipped himself up as he left his bedroom in favor of his office. "As long as you tell me how you got this number."
You laughed as he sank down into his desk chair. "You think it's exclusive or something? Judy gave it to me. And it's probably listed on the company website."
Brat. He narrowed his eyes, adding a note to his mental list to make sure it was not listed on the company website. "What can I help you with?"
"Well, I'm packing and hoping for a little input from you."
"On Thursday night at nine?" he asked. "And don't you have a butler to help you with that?"
"Like you have anything else going on?"
Bradley thought about Callie waiting in his bedroom, but instead of ushering this call along, he asked, "What did you pack so far?"
You sighed. "Sixteen bathing suits, piles of lingerie, and sunglasses. And I'm only kind of kidding."
Fighting the urge to ask for more details, he said, "Unfortunately I can't let you wear any of that in front of potential clients. So throw in some suits and dresses."
"Some suits and dresses? You'll need to be a little bit more specific, Sir." 
Sir.
That one word was echoing through his mind along with your bratty tone, and he had to take a deep breath. "Why don't you bring the suit you wore when I interviewed you? That looked good. And so did the dress you wore to your father's holiday party. The dark green one."
There was a pause before you said, "You remember what I wore to the party?"
"Yeah," he grunted, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration. "It looked nice. Pack some cocktail dresses, too."
"How many should I pack?"
"How many do you have?"
"Do you really want me to answer that?"
Bradley laughed. "I'm sure you know better than I do what you should wear."
You scoffed. "You're acting like you've never spent a summer on the Avio yacht before."
"I haven't," he replied easily. "Just a few days here and there. I'm sure I'll be learning things from you."
"Then you'll be learning from the best."
He bit back a groan as he said, "That's what I'm counting on. That's why I hired you."
"I won't let you down," you promised, and Bradley believed you. "I'll see you at the airport on Saturday morning. Don't forget your swim trunks."
You ended the call before he could say another word, and now he was convinced you had called him simply because you could. If he was frustrated before, it was nothing compared to the way he felt now. Spending weeks on end with Ted's daughter was supposed to help him get to the bottom of the messy business with Avio, not cause other issues to arise. 
He unzipped his pants, intent on touching himself,  before jolting to his feet. "Shit," he muttered as he left his office and went back to his bedroom. "Cal?" he called out. "Sorry. It was a work call." But he was completely alone. He laughed as his phone vibrated in his hand with a text from her.
Have a great time in Europe. Don't bother calling me when you get back.
Bradley was sure he'd hear about this from his old friend Natasha when Callie bitched about him at work. But it didn't really matter. After she had a few weeks to cool off, she'd come back when he needed her again. For now, he'd take matters into his own hands and hope that would be enough.
----------------------
Your father insisted upon seeing you off on Saturday morning which gave Bradley a few minutes alone with him. He was listening to Ted as he watched you struggle with your seven pieces of Dior luggage on the tarmac next to the chartered airplane. 
"Bradley, you don't know what you've gotten yourself into," your father told him with a laugh. "She's tenacious though. And whip smart. Make sure you challenge her, because she will certainly challenge you."
Now Bradley laughed as he shook Ted's hand. "I'll do my best."
"If she gets to be too much, just leave her in one of the marinas with her passport."
He would never do that to you. He doubted it would ever come to that. In fact, he was already impressed by the way you took care of things for yourself. Sure, you looked like you belonged in an ad for designer gym clothes with your leggings and soft hoodie zipped over your sports bra. But you were also taking your luggage from the back of the black Mercedes-Benz G-Class yourself.
"I can assure you that she and I will be just fine, Sir."
"What have I told you about calling me Ted?" Bradley received a friendly cuff on the shoulder before shaking his hand and turning toward you. 
He picked up the last two pieces of your luggage at the same time and carried them to the cargo hold while you trailed after him. "I don't need help," you told him as he stowed them away. Then you added, "You look weird out of your Armani."
"I look weird?" he asked with a laugh as he glanced down at his chinos and Oxford shirt.
"A good kind of weird. Like when you wore that Fair Isle sweater last year."
Bradley examined your pretty face, and you didn't look away. He remembered the dress you wore to Ted's holiday party, and you remembered his sweater. Right now he was wishing he'd joined you for that bottle of French wine that night, something he'd remedy on the yacht. A flood of bad decisions just waiting to happen filled his mind as he said, "Go say goodbye to your father. It's almost time to go."
"Yes, Sir," you told him with your chin held high and a smirk gracing your lips. Bradley stood at the bottom of the stairs while you flung your arms around Ted and kissed him on the cheek. Then you came strolling his way once again, and he followed you closely up the stairs as you turned back and softly said, "I'm all yours."
--------------------------
Ivy League spells trouble for Bradley, but at least he knows it. And he didn't get an ounce of relief before getting on that plane. What could possibly go wrong? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 3
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totaly-obsessed · 8 months
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Chaos and dressing rooms
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Alessia Russo x reader fic
-> Chaotic reader doesn't know how to do her hair, Alessia helps her out
➳ Masterlist
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
The Arsenal dressing room was always a vibe, even if it was just for practice sessions. Usually, Leah Williamson would be blasting music, but with her being out with a torn ACL, Katie and Steph took over, making for a wild mix.
This would be your second season at the club and even with the new additions, you were one of the younger ones, forever in awe watching the likes of Kim Little and Beth Mead play. But you fit in well, making fast friends with Lotte and Laura who always laughed at your half jokes-half stupidity. In the beginning, Katie tried to recruit you for her pranks, but in the end, it was Jen who would take on the role of your ‘mentor’ for getting around and meeting people.
Now in your second season, four new girls were joining the team – Laia, Amanda, Cloe, and of course Alessia. Meeting them was easy enough, especially the English striker, as you had played her last season – but the other girls were nice as well. You not having competed in the World Cup, as you hadn’t managed the jump up to the senior Lionesses just yet, made it easier to meet Laia, who was joking with you as well as she could with her limited English.
Your dressing room cubby was situated between Steph and Beth who constantly were teasing you for taking forever to get ready – always the last one out on the pitch. Nobody thought anything of it, the girls just thought that you liked to take your time, or that you weren’t organized well enough, and while that was true, the real reason was you struggled to do your hair.
Every single day it was a battle – buns were insecure and fell out easily, tight pony-tails gave you a headache and the swishing hairs annoyed you to no end. Not being able to braid your own hair was incredibly annoying.
It's not like you didn’t try.
You did.
Every single practice session and game, at home before going out, and just when you were bored – nothing worked. After a while your arms started to hurt and tears threatened to fall due to frustration. That’s why you were the last one out, giving your hair just one last attempt before giving up and throwing it in a nice and easy low bun.
And today was no different. It was the third training session since the girls got back from the World Cup, and the new players joined them. Everyone was hyping themselves and each other up before they left the room.
“Has anyone seen my Jersey?”
Jen rolled her eyes, “In the bathroom.” With quick steps you retrieved your jersey, no clue how it got there.
On the way back you tripped over Laia’s shoes – the Spaniard barely catching your arms and keeping you from hitting the ground.
“Where are my shorts?”
“In my bag, you left them yesterday, I washed them.” Katie threw them to you, your forgetfulness and clumsiness highly amusing her.
---------------------------------------------------
Slowly everyone left but you. When you didn’t see anybody you tried again, desperately trying to braid your hair in front of the quite high mirror.
“Why isn’t this shit working?” With a loud clattering, your brush fell to the floor.
“God damn it! Why can’t I do this? Why am I so stupid?” Alessia, who was still in the bathroom listened with a little smirk on her face until she heard your voice wavering. You were always so fun to be around, so hearing you this frustrated with yourself and being so mean to yourself was new and terrifying for the striker.
“Fuck this.” You had given up, resulting in a low bun. Alessia heard you throw your brush into some corner, frustration getting the better of you.
Not wanting you to be embarrassed, she waited until she was sure you were gone before entering the changing room. The brush she picked up was littered with cute little stickers, and covered in hair - obviously yours.
The tall blonde could just imagine you roughly brushing your hair in anger, feeling sorry for your scalp.
Carefully she put it down in your cubby, and before she left Alessia collected your things that were all over the room and folded them neatly for you.
The rest of the team and training staff were already standing in a circle when Alessia joined them.
“Looks like we have a new late-commer!” Jonas was laughing at the striker, not mad at all. When Alessia's eyes met yours, she could see the realization dawn upon you – She had been there when you were so harsh to your mirror image.
During the whole training session, you were much quieter than usual, embarrassed that you had been caught – by Alessia at that. Alessia who was new, and who you admired so much.
Katie, your traings-buddy tried to get information, on why you were so strange, but you deflected, making her talk about Lauryn’s game instead. While the Irish woman obviously knew what you were doing, she was more than happy to talk about her little sister to someone genuinely interested – even if it was just to distract you.
Alessia tried to get close to you, but somehow you were always gone before she got there. At the end of training, you just packed your bag, not even changing, and stormed out the door.
You took notice of your thing being neatly folded on your cubby and you briefly glanced at the tall blonde who was already looking at you.
“She was weird today, right?” Kim, who liked to title herself as your big sister asked into the silence that you left behind.
“Yeah. Yeah, she was.”
---------------------------------------------------
The next day your chaos started all over again, and the older girls were relieved that you seemed to be back to normal again. Alessia was surprised that you even talked to her, she thought you were mad at her when you really just needed to get over your embarrassment.
After everyone else left, it was just the two of you left.
“I’m sorry that you had to witness that. Yesterday, I mean.” The striker knew what you meant and sat down next to you, one of her big hands stroking your back, trying to get you comfortable.
“Don’t worry about it.” It was silent for another second, your cheeks felt like they were on fire from blushing so hard.
“You’re not stupid.” Her hand stilled and she gently grabbed your chin, turning your face to her. Your brain just blanked, and she saw, “You were really mean to yourself yesterday – You are not stupid.”
Upon your attempt to turn your flushed face away from her, she held it more firmly. “Do you understand amore?”
A weak nod earned you a raised eyebrow. “I’m not stupid…” The blonde smirked satisfied and turned your face to press a kiss to your cheek.
“Come now, I’ll braid your hair. No need to make your scalp bleed anymore.” With gentle hands she pulled you in front of the mirror, braiding your hair with quick fingers before squeezing your shoulders when she was done.
Katie and Beth wiggled their eyebrows at the two of you when they saw Alessia enter the pitch with you at her side – your face so flushed no one could miss it.
And from that day on, Alessia did your hair in the dressing room. But it wasn’t kept a secret for long, so with her help, you managed to get ready on time. Alessia, your own little assistant, who would never complain about your jitteriness, clumsiness, or forgetfulness. An angel sent from heaven – or hell when you looked at Manchester United.
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trendywaifus · 6 months
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↳ not in love, baby it’s just lust!
always look both ways and behind you when you walk at night.
↳ featuring, michael myers! jingliu
—cw, sub! fem! reader, jingliu has a cock, face fucking, murder mentioned, gagging, cursing, size–kink, death of a character, dub-con
the sounds of your heavy breathing and wheezing echoes through the narrow walls of the horribly lit alleyway. your limbs burned with exhaustion and you were on the verge of passing out from nonstop running. the hot tears you desperately tried to wipe away, continuously runs down your flushed cheeks. you meet face to face with a dead end, your blood runs cold. “ o-oh my fucking god!” you slammed your palm against the cold brick wall in frustration. “ i just did a dumb white girl move, why did i even turn into this alleyway?! “
you whipped around, hoping to scramble out of the narrow space before your pursuer comes. you halted after a few steps in upon seeing the tall shadow of a silhouette steadily approaching towards your only escape route out. “ o-of course the motherfucker shows up. .! “ you muttered harshly, watching in horror as the looming figure stands tall at the entrance of the alleyway. your eyes trails down to what looks like to be a knife in their hand. “ oh fuck, i’m going to die because i wanted to buy a bag of shitty candy from the shitty corner store at night. .”
they began to approach, taking slow, calculated steps towards you. the knife twirls in their hand almost playfully as you backed up, frantically looking around for a weapon to use. “ last w-words of advice, if you’re interested in a woman, h-how about you not follow them and try to kill them, mister i. .—miss?” you were at a loss of words as her appearance became more visible under the shitty flickering lights. she had on a familiar worn–out fox mask, rivers of white hair flowed down her shoulders from underneath it. she wore a grey coverall jumpsuit that shaped her fit body.
“ th-this somehow got worse—you were the one who was following me? i seriously just heard about you on the news last night. god, i’m so fucked! “ you sobbed, forcing yourself up against the wall. a man by the name of yingxing was brutally murdered in his own home yesterday in broad daylight. it’s so happen that a witness caught a few glimpses of the masked killer somewhere outside the home after the murder and was able to give the police a distinctive description of her. why did you have to be the one to confirm it’s accurate in the worst way possible?
swallowed by her presence as she now towers over your figure, her dull red eyes peers down at you through the slits of the mask, amused by your pathetic mental breakdown. she raises her knife up and you instinctively closed your eyes shut, waiting for the sharp pain to come. instead, a cool metal gently brushes against your cheek, wiping away stray tears. you flinched, opening your eyes to stare at the masked woman with confusion.
“ d-did you just. . .? “ she tilts her head, letting out a low chuckle at your cute reaction. your brows furrowed, she’s either fucking with you or—she actually took your advice? “ maybe i won’t die tonight if i play my cards right. .” you whispered. taking a deep breath, you mustered up a tight-lipped smile. “ i-i heard a lot about you, including your name. jing. .liu, correct? “ she stares at you for a moment before slowly nodding.
“ you have such a beautiful name and you seem like a. .reasonable woman, jingliu. i actually want to go home since it’s like late at night and i think my mother is worried about me. you wouldn’t mind stepping aside so i can go, right? you’re kind of blocking the way—n-not to be rude. .”
jingliu says nothing, nor did she move aside to allow you to pass. instead, she takes a step forward, practically sandwiching you between her and the wall. you yelped, placing your palms against her stomach. it’s safe to assume that she did not want you to leave nor was she interested in killing you. her calloused hand cups your cheek, caressing the skin tenderly. you laughed nervously, “ i-i guess you already taken a liking to me. fucking perfect. “
your breath hitches as she leans down to your face, the rough texture of the mask grazes your cheek. you shifted uncomfortably against her, earning a soft groan. “ s-sorry? why did you make that—oh.” a soft bulge rubs against your thigh, causing you to stiffen up. jingliu swiftly tosses the knife to the side, the metal object hits the asphalt with a loud clang. her hands lands on your hips, forcing them to grind against hers. “ e-easy, easy, jingliu! “ you gasped, holding back a soft moan. fuck, a small adjustment easily triggered her?
she grunts, easing her grip on your hips but her movements doesn’t falter. “ sh-shit. . “ arousal shamelessly stirs in your belly, slowly dragging you into a mess of dirty thoughts about the feral woman. she hastily pulls up her mask, just enough to free the lower half of her face and smashed her lips against yours. the searing kiss was nothing but tongue and teeth. she easily overpowered you, not caring about bruising your lips. her hands journeys up your sides, wishing to explore every nook and cranny of your body.
her tongue hungrily explores your warm cavern, swallowing your whimpers. lust consumes you whole, trapping you in its hold and starts plucking away at any rational thought you had about the reality of the current situation. without hesitation, your hand slides down her stomach and squeezed at the hardened bulge. a deep growl emits from jingliu’s throat, she rolls her hips against your palm. “ god, it went from wanting to go home to wanting to fuck a suspected serial killer. ” you breathed, unzipping the jumpsuit from under the waistband, freeing her cock from its restraints.
jingliu’s lips parts as she laughs huskily at the irony. she firmly sets her hand on your shoulder and easily pushes you down to your knees. she hooks her hand on the back of your head, urging you to open your mouth. you complied, allowing her length to slide inside. her breath hitches, taken aback by how good you feel. your jaw tenses as jingliu fully pushes herself in until the tip was kissing the back of your throat.
suddenly, she jerks her hips forward, forcing her cock down your throat causing you to gag. she pulls back before doing it again. each time, it gets deeper and sloppy until she’s repeatedly fucking your tight throat without a care in the world. series of throaty moans and sounds of wet squelching fills the empty night sky. drool runs down your chin as you struggled to accommodate her size and pace. your palms pressed against her thighs to at least cease her speed but she was far more stronger than you.
her cock twitches in your mouth, signaling her inevitable climax. throwing her head back in pure ecstasy, she thrusts into your mouth one final time before loads of cum shoots down your throat. jingliu doesn’t pull out until she’s sure you’ve swallowed everything. once she was satisfied, she releases your head, finally allowing you to cough and breathe properly.
“ fuck. . “ you cursed, massaging your tense jaw. jingliu snatches you up by the forearm and pulls you up without warning. she presses you back into the wall, peppering your face with feverish kisses. her deft hands find themselves unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them down to your ankles for you to kick off. her eyes looks you up and down hungrily, gaze lingering on your bare legs and panties. she places her hands on your sides and easily lifts you up from off the ground. you yelp, circling your legs around her waist.
she smirks at you, sliding your panties to the side to push her drool—covered cock inside your cunt. you both moan in sync as your walls clamp around her. “ l-let me adjust—nngh! “ ignoring your request, jingliu sinks you down to the hilt, completely filling you up. she pants heavily into your ear, retracting her hips back before thrusting right in again. “ s’big, i-i c-can’t! “ you moaned, pushing at her shoulders.
she holds you tighter and moves away to send you a threatening look. her once blank ruby eyes were wild, glistening with unadulterated lust. the masked woman finally uses her tongue to speak, her voice was raspy and low as she growled,
“ don’t. .push . .me. .away . ! “
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ichorai · 1 year
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broken machine ; miles morales.
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track four of BROKEN MACHINE.
pairing ; miles morales x mutant!gn!reader
synopsis ; stuck in a time loop, miles had to witness the one thing that he dreaded the most in life over and over again: your death.
words ; 5.1k
themes ; angst, action, mild fluff, mutant au, time loop au, established relationship au
warnings / includes ; repeated major character death, descriptions of injury/blood, cursing, two brief mentions of sex, wolverine & omega red & doctor strange cameos, mentions of x-men & daredevil & wong, set in an alternature universe from the mcu, miles throws up at one point, one (1) reference to spider-man: nwh wink wonk, miles' parents are adorable and i love them
main masterlist.
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NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE ONE.
Three knocks to his door, in rapid succession. 
“Miles,” barked his dad. “Up and at ‘em, kid!” 
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Miles groaned into his pillow, propping himself up with his elbow and glaring at the closed door. 
Outside, a car honked. A plump pigeon hooted by his windowsill. The sun beamed directly into his narrowed eyes. 
With a muffled yawn, Miles swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He could smell his mom making breakfast quesadillas from the kitchen. 
The day droned on like any other. He brushed his teeth and washed his face, shrugged on the same black hoodie he wore yesterday, snatched a quesadilla from the plate—nearly burning his fingers in doing so, much to his mom’s dismay, and kissed her cheek apologetically when she scolded him for not taking out the trash like she’d asked the day before. His dad was scarfing down the steaming quesadillas by the small kitchen table, eyes scanning over the day’s newspaper. 
“All these so-called ‘heroes’… and yet crime rates are as high as ever. What a joke.” Jefferson pulled a scowl, reading on about the newest debacle with X-Men and mutants in court. 
Miles could feel his stomach twist at his dad’s words, but he pushed it down.
“Miles, come sit down and eat,” said his mom, urging him to the table.
With an apologetic grimace, Miles replied, “Sorry, ma, I gotta meet Y/N at the diner—I promised breakfast with them today. I’ll be back before dinner, okay?” 
“Alright, mijo. I want you back before the sun sets—I don’t want you out and about during the night now,” she huffed, straightening the lopsided collar of his hoodie. “Tell Y/N I said hi. Remember what I told you, Miles—use protection. And don’t forget to take out the trash!”
“Okay, okay, Jeez, mom!” blurted Miles, clearly flustered at the prospect of his mom giving him yet another sex talk. He was already pulling on his shoes and waving goodbye to his dad, who muffled out something unintelligible around a mouthful of his breakfast. Just before he was about to stride out, he remembered to grab the bags of trash and toss them into the bins outside, before hurrying down the street to the diner. 
Knowing you, you were probably already waiting at the diner, halfway done with your milkshake.
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Correction, you were well into your second milkshake by the time Miles jogged in.
“You’re late,” you told him, a fond smile on your face. “I ordered for you.”
“Bacon cheeseburger with a side of curly fries? Lemonade with extra ice?” Miles asked, sliding into the seat across from you, the sticky red leather of the booth making him grimace.
You cocked your head at him. “Yup. Extra ketchup on the side, too.”
“See, that’s just telling me we spend too much time together,” said Miles, affectionately kicking at your feet beneath the table. 
Scoffing, you popped a curly fry into your mouth. “You wouldn’t last two seconds without me.”
Before Miles could fit in a scathing remark, a loud crashing resounded from far outside the diner, followed by distant screams. Both you and Miles exchanged worried glances, peering out of the window to see civilians frantically running down the street. 
“Got your suit?” you asked quietly. You had yours on underneath your sweater already, since you had planned to go training with Daredevil after breakfast.
Miles bobbed his head, the light-hearted atmosphere disappearing in an instant. “In my bag. I’ll meet you there?” 
You nodded. “I don’t know what it could be this time—whatever it is, it doesn’t look pretty. Stay safe, Miles.” 
With that, you slid out of your booth, planting a quick kiss to his cheek, before dashing out of the restaurant, running against the current of the panicked crowd. Squaring his jaw, Miles darted into the diner’s bathroom, hurriedly changing into the suit May Parker had gifted him, and hopped right out the small, rectangular window. 
The fight was about two blocks from the diner. He swung down onto a streetlamp, eyes widening when he caught sight of a bloodied Wolverine pinned against the asphalt—Omega Red not too far from him, his carbonadium coils wrapped around Logan’s biceps and neck. 
Wolverine let out a growl, his adamantium claws slashing out, but not long enough to reach his attacker. 
Miles shot a web out to get closer. Though he wasn’t all that close to the infamous Wolverine, Miles knew he was a halfway decent guy, and deserved a bit of help. 
Mid-air, he blasted web fluid straight into Omega Red’s eyes, blinding him momentarily. Furious, the large man roared out an expletive, letting go of Wolverine in shock and scratching the sticky webs away from his face with one fluid motion, before rounding his angry crimson gaze at Miles. One of the metal tentacles shot out in his direction, but before it could reach him, you came barreling forward out of nowhere, a purple blade of energy stemming from your clenched fist. 
“No, kid, wait—!” gruffed Wolverine, a warning about Omega’s death spores just on the tip of his tongue.
It was too late.
Omega Red chuckled darkly as your blade of energy sunk into his abdomen with a sickly squelch. To Miles’ horror, he seemed practically unfazed by this. You snarled up at him when he wrapped one of his burly hands around your neck, the other coming up to lay over your skull. Miles scrambled forward, shouting your name, but Wolverine held him away, frantically telling him to stay back—something about deadly pheromones.
But Miles wasn’t listening. All he could see was you, and the final second of your expression shifting from determined rage, to raw fear.
A misty fog began surrounding Omega Red—his death spores. Your eyelids fluttered and you fell limp in his grasp. He was feeding off of your life energy. 
A sick crack of bone as he effortlessly crushed your head in his palm.
A raw, blood-curdling scream tore from Miles’ lungs.
Wolverine wouldn't let him go.
And then, it all went black.
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NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE TWO.
Three knocks to his door, in rapid succession. 
“Miles,” the muffled voice of his dad drifted from beneath the doorway. “Up and at ‘em, kid!” 
Outside, a car honked. A plump pigeon hooted by his windowsill. The sun beamed directly into his narrowed eyes. 
He immediately sat up on his bed, breathing heavy and labored. A tear fell down his cheek and Miles hurriedly wiped it away with the back of his palm.
“What the…?” he muttered beneath his breath, glancing at his phone to see that it was November seventh. 
Huh. So it must’ve all been a dream. Wolverine, that weird metal-tentacle dude, you dying…
It was all a dream.
Huffing out a sigh of relief, Miles swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He could smell his mom making breakfast quesadillas from the kitchen. Funny, his dream-mom had made quesadillas as well.
The day droned on like any other. He brushed his teeth and washed his face, shrugged on the same black hoodie he wore yesterday, snatched a quesadilla from the plate—nearly burning his fingers in doing so, much to his mom’s dismay.
“Miles, I told you to take out the trash!” she scolded, crossing her arms expectantly.
For a second, Miles froze. This was… eerily similar to his dream.
Realizing that he had yet to reply, Miles hastily choked out, “Sorry, ma. I’ll take it out when I leave.”
“Where are you going?” she asked, eyebrows raised.
“Diner. Meeting Y/N there for breakfast,” Miles responded. “I’ll be back before dinner, okay?”
From the small kitchen table, his dad glanced away from the day’s newspaper. “All these so-called ‘heroes’… and yet crime rates are as high as ever. What a joke.” Jefferson pulled a scowl, before reading on about the newest debacle with X-Men and mutants in court.
Huh. Miles could swear his dad said the exact same thing in his dream…
“Alright, mijo. I want you back before the sun sets—I don’t want you out and about during the night now,” she huffed, coming forward to straighten the lopsided collar of his hoodie. “Tell Y/N I said hi. Remember what I told you, Miles—use protection. And don’t forget to take out the trash!”
“Alright, alright, Jeez, mom!” blurted Miles, flustered at the prospect of his mom giving him yet another sex talk. He was already pulling on his shoes and waving goodbye to his dad, who muffled out something unintelligible around a mouthful of his breakfast. Just before he was about to stride out, he remembered to grab the bags of trash and toss them into the bins outside, before hurrying down the street to the diner.
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“You’re late,” you told him, a fond smile on your face. Cupped in your hands was your second milkshake, already half-empty. “I ordered for you.”
“Thanks,” said Miles as he slid into the seat across from you, the sticky red leather of the booth making him grimace. “Hey, something really weird happened this morning. It’s like—deja vu, but in my dream? Like everything I saw in my dream felt weirdly real and then when I woke up, the exact same things started to happen—”
Before he could continue explaining, a loud crashing resounded from far outside the diner, followed by distant screams. Both you and Miles exchanged worried glances, peering out of the window to see civilians frantically running.
This happened in my dream! thought Miles. Unless… unless it wasn’t a dream…
“Got your suit?” you asked quietly. You had yours on underneath your sweater already, since you had planned to go training with Daredevil after breakfast.
Miles opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water.
You blinked at him, miffed. “Miles? We gotta go help them.”
Head feeling stuffed full with cotton, Miles bobbed his head hesitantly. “It’s, uh, it’s in my bag. I’ll meet you there?” 
You nodded. “I don’t know what it could be this time—whatever it is, it doesn’t look pretty. Stay safe, Miles.” 
With that, you slid out of your booth, planting a quick kiss to his cheek, before dashing out of the restaurant before he could even begin to think to stop you, running against the current of the panicked crowd. Squaring his jaw, Miles blew out a deep exhale and ran into the diner’s bathroom, hurriedly changing into the suit May Parker had gifted him, and hopped right out the small, rectangular window. 
As soon as Miles saw Wolverine and Omega Red a couple blocks down the diner, he knew whatever he had seen in his quote-unquote ‘dream’ hadn’t actually been a dream. Maybe he was in an alternate dimension? Or could it have been time travel of some sorts?
Whatever it was, Miles had to find you.
He swung down onto the road, ready to stop you from getting too close to Omega Red. Swiftly, he shot out web fluid straight into Omega Red’s eyes, blinding him momentarily. Furious, the large man roared out an expletive, letting go of Wolverine in shock and scratching the sticky webs away from his face with one fluid motion, before rounding his angry crimson gaze at Miles.
One of the metal tentacles shot out in his direction, but before it could reach him, you came barreling forward out of nowhere, a purple blade of energy stemming from your clenched fist. 
“No, kid, wait—!” gruffed Wolverine, a warning about Omega’s death spores just on the tip of his tongue.
Prepared, Miles pushed you out of the way, frantically yelling out, “Stay back, he’s got killer pheromones!”
But it was too late.
The long, spindly carbonadium cords darted forward and snaked around both of your ankles, sweeping you off your feet and dangling you upside down in a matter of seconds. Desperately, you tried to hack away at the metal with your energy blades. The determined snarl on your face began to wane into one of fear when it proved to be fruitless.
Omega Red grinned manically, eyeing you like a wolf would a hare. 
A misty fog began surrounding Omega Red—his death spores. Your eyelids fluttered and you fell limp in his grasp. He was feeding off of your life energy.
Miles yelled out your name, but Wolverine held him back, telling him it was for his own safety. 
“They’re long gone, kid,” the X-Man gruffed, grip unrelenting. “I’m sorry.”
A raw, blood-curdling scream tore from Miles’ lungs.
“Let me go!” he cried. It wasn’t a dream. None of this was a dream—it couldn’t be.
Wolverine wouldn't let him go, no matter how much Miles struggled.
And then, it all went black.
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NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE THREE.
Three knocks to his door, in rapid succession. 
“Miles,” said his dad from the other side of the closed door. “Up and at ‘em, kid!” 
He shot up from the bed, breathing ragged. 
Miles swiped at his watery eyes, burying his face into his palms. If that hadn’t been a dream… what was it?
Car honk. Pigeon hoot. The sun beamed directly into his tired eyes. Right. This was the third time he’d lived through today. He must’ve been stuck in a time loop of some sorts. 
But how was he supposed to get out?
Swallowing heavily, Miles slipped out of bed, changing out of his pajamas, and got ready for the day. He had to get to the diner.
The mouth-watering aroma of his mom’s quesadillas wafted from the kitchen. 
“Miles, come have breakfast!” she called out just as she noticed Miles pulling on his shoes, tilting her head. “And just where do you think you’re going?”
“Out. Diner. Y/N,” said Miles, rushing. “Sorry, ma. I’ll be back soon!”
“Wait—!” she exclaimed, but he was already dashing out the door and sprinting down the block.
You were just starting on your second milkshake, brows raising when Miles stumbled into the diner, nearly ripping the door off its hinges in his haste.
“Hey, you’re not late for once!” you proclaimed, clearly amused at his haggard state. But your humored expression melted away when you saw that Miles was in no smiling mood. “What’s going on? God, Miles, you need to sit down.”
Blowing out a breath, Miles slid into the booth and began to explain. It was a terrible explanation, one that made no sense at all—but Miles was desperate and clearly not thinking straight.
“Right, so, I’ve been living today for the past two days. And I’ve seen you die before—twice! I wake up every time you die. It must be like, uh, like—”
“Miles,” you said, brows furrowed. “I’m so confused right now. You’ve seen me die? Like… like a vision or something?”
“No! Uhm, yes? Wait, no, I don’t think so, at least. I—”
Before he could finish, the loud crashing resounded from far outside the diner, followed by distant screams. Your concern skyrocketed, and you glanced out the window to see what was going on. Miles pulled at the skin of his face, frustrated. 
Civilians were screaming and running every which way like headless chickens. A woman with a baby stroller tripped over the curb and you sprang up to your feet, immediately breaking out of the diner to help her.
“Y/N, wait, you can’t go—!” exclaimed Miles, rushing out after you.
“Holy shit,” you mumbled under your breath as the both of you caught sight of Omega Red and Wolverine barreling down the street in their altercation.
With no time to change into your suit, you clenched your fist, purple energy blade crackling to life around your skin, mildly burning at the cuffs of your hoodie sleeves.
“No, Y/N, listen to me, you can’t go, you’ll die!” Miles exclaimed, grabbing your forearm to stop you.
Rounding on him with a heated gaze, you shook your head. “Miles, hundreds of people are going to die! That’s Omega Red. He can kill anyone in a close vicinity. I can’t just stand back and let him do it. I need to go help Logan.”
With that, you shoved away from him, leaving Miles to stumble after you. He cursed under his breath, shooting out his webs to swing after you.
Omega Red caught sight of the both of you from afar, the red of his eyes gleaming hungrily.
The carbonadium tentacles curled around Miles first, crushing his lungs until he struggled to breath and black dots danced about his vision. He could only helplessly watch as you dived down and slashed at his legs, but were dragged out by the other coil, lifting you up by your head as if you were a ragdoll. 
To his horror, Omega Red flung you hard across the street. So hard that you crashed clean through the windows of the opposite building, and straight into three consecutive plaster walls after that.
And then everything went dark.
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NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE FOUR.
“Up and at ‘em, kid!” 
Car. Pigeon. Sun.
Diner.
This time, Omega Red threw a car at you.
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NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE FIVE.
Quesadilla. Newspaper. Trash.
Diner.
Miles was helplessly pinned to the street as Omega Red used Wolverine’s adamantium claws to slice you to pieces.
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NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE SIX.
Running down the street. Your milkshake spilled all over the diner table. Miles frantically trying to tell you not to go out. He was so tired.
You went out anyway.
Omega Red picked you up and ripped you clean in half with his bare hands.
Bending at the stomach, Miles threw up all over the sidewalk.
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NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE SEVEN.
Miles didn’t go to the diner this time. He stayed in bed, eyes unblinking and wide, his stomach roiling nauseously. 
“Miles!” came the muffled shriek of his mom. “Miles, it’s Y/N!”
Legs trembling, Miles stepped out of his room and slowly shuffled down the hall to see his mom and dad standing in front of the television. Rio’s eyes were quick to water, tears dripping down her cheek at the sight. His dad bowed his head and rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.
The news was on. 
It was you, being recorded on a shaky camera—barely visible behind Omega Red, with his burly hands wrapped around your throat as he squeezed, squeezed, squeezed—
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NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE EIGHT.
Three quick knocks to his door.
“Up and at ‘em, kid!” 
Miles threw himself out of bed just as the car honked. He was so very tired, eyes bloodshot and limbs weary. But he couldn’t give up. 
Hastily, not even bothering to change out of his pajamas, he ran out of his room after grabbing his web shooters, barely acknowledging his baffled parents. He bolted out the door at lightning speed, using his shooters to hurl himself down the street, to the diner.
People gawked and stared at him with wide eyes. They all gawked and pointed fingers, exclaiming, “Hey, it’s knock-off Spider-Man!” 
Miles couldn’t bring himself to care.
Not wasting any time, he barged into the diner, making his way to your booth. Before you could fit in any comments about how he was late, or how he looked like he’d just gotten run over by a bulldozer, he grabbed you by the shoulders, looking you straight in the eye.
“Listen to me. I’ve been stuck in a time loop, watching you die over and over and over again. You cannot leave this diner, Y/N. I’m being serious. Omega Red is going to come rolling down the street any second now—but you can’t help in any way, no matter how much you want to, or you’ll die and it just resets the loop for me. I need to keep you alive. Do you understand?”
With wide, unblinking eyes, you stared at your boyfriend as if he’d gone mad. A part of you thought this was just some elaborate joke—but the longer you looked into his eyes—his tired, weary eyes, the more you could see how sincere he was being. He was telling the truth.
“Time loop… like groundhog day?” 
Miles nodded.
“Do you know how to fix it?”
Crestfallen, Miles blew out a shaky breath. “No. Every time you die, the day just resets and I wake up back in my room—your death is basically… inevitable.”
A sick feeling twisted in your gut. Not really at the fact that you were fated to die in this loop, but at the idea of Miles having to watch and relive that over and over again.
“Oh, Miles, I’m so sorry…” you began, unsure of what else to say. Eyes softening, Miles released your shoulders, sliding his hands down your arms to thread his fingers with yours. 
A tentative idea sprung forth when your friend and vigilante mentor, Daredevil, once mentioned in passing a certain sorcerer living in New York that specialized in all things time-related.
“I think I might know someone that can help,” you said, squeezing his hands with a hopeful grin.
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The Sanctum Sanctorum was a large, spacious building that remained suspiciously clean despite having only two ‘cleaners’ that looked far younger than you—Wong liked to call them apprentices, though. You’d passed by the building before twice—but never actually had any reason to come inside.
For such an important place, you were surprised there weren’t any guards by the door. You and Miles exchanged nervous glances, before stepping in. 
Stephen Strange was by the fireplace to the right, nursing a mug of a thick purple liquid. Draped over his shoulders was the infamous red Cloak of Levitation, which seemed to perk upwards in the presence of guests.
“Y/N L/N,” he greeted, narrowing his eyes at you, as if he’d known you were going to come. “Miles Morales—what brings the two of you to the Sanctum Sanctorum?”
How the peculiar sorcerer knew your names, neither of you had a clue.
“Hello, uh… doctor, er, sir—uhm, I’m—I think I might be stuck in a time loop?” Heat flushed over Miles’ face as he stumbled over his words, clearly overwhelmed that he was standing in front of an Avenger.
One of Strange’s eyebrows arched closer to his hairline. “You think?”
Clearing his throat, Miles winced as he replied, “I know I’m in a time loop. I’ve been living the same day over and over again more than half a dozen times.”
The sorcerer tilted his head, free hand coming up to stroke his well-groomed goatee. “Yep… that’s a time loop, alright. I’ve been stuck in one before—nasty thing it is.” The unpleasant memory of Dormammu made a grimace pull his lips thin. With that, he began striding away, leaving the two of you awkwardly standing by the Sanctum's entrance. 
After a second, Strange glanced back, rolling his eyes. “Come on, what are you two standing there dilly-dallying for?”
The two of you scampered along behind him, making your way further into the large building. Down a winding staircase you went, one that seemed to go on for ages. You peered over the railings, blanching upon seeing nothing but darkness for as far as the eye could see. Nervous, you reached out for Miles’ hand, which he gladly took.
Once the three of you had arrived by the floor, torches by the walls magically burst aflame, bathing the room in a warm clementine glow.
“Something incredibly wrong must have messed up your stream of reality’s timeline for it to fall back upon itself. Something that isn’t supposed to happen. Usually time loops occur when alternate realities collide into one another, thereby permanently damaging both realities’ time continuum—but it can sometimes happen on its own to prevent incursions from occurring in the first place. Like a safety net of sorts. It’s the universe’s way of giving you a second chance. Or… seven, in your case,” explained Strange, waving his hand in front of the Eye of Agamotto that rested just above his chest. The golden platelets pulled back to reveal a glowing emerald gem—the infamous time stone. Most of what he said had flown right over your head, but you nodded as if you understood anyway. “What is it that resets the loop each time, kid?”
Miles shifted his weight from foot to foot, suddenly feeling queasy. “Y/N dies,” he mumbled.
The sorcerer’s eyebrows twitched up in surprise. 
“Ah,” he said, his usually stoic demeanor melting into one of stiff, uncomfortable sympathy. “My condolences.”
“Thanks—uh, condolences… taken? Received? Yeah,” Miles awkwardly choked out. If it weren’t the dire situation at hand, you would’ve laughed at your boyfriend’s inability to just keep his mouth shut.
A glimmer of amusement danced behind Strange’s irises, but it disappeared just as quickly as it came. 
“Alright, kid, I can fix it for you—just promise not to talk during the spell. You’re not the only person who’s come to me asking to make life-altering changes to the time continuum.”
Neither of you really knew what he was talking about, but you stiffly bobbed your heads up and down nonetheless. 
With that, Stephen clapped his hands together, chanting lowly underneath his breath. The time stone began to emit a bright, lime-hued light—one that nearly hurt if you stared directly at it. 
And then… it all stopped.
Strange stopped murmuring in his foreign tongue, the stone stopped glowing, and everything felt eerily still.
Confused, Miles asked, “That’s it?”
A ghost of a smile traced the corner of Doctor Strange’s lips. “Yeah, kid. That’s it. It should all be over now—you’ll wake up in the real tomorrow, tomorrow. Now get outta here—before Wong mistakes you guys for his apprentices.”
“Thank you, Doctor Strange. This means the world to us,” you said, genuine gratitude shining through your expression as you squeezed Miles’ hand.
“Yeah, thanks Mr—Doctor—Sir… uh…” Miles began stumbling over his own tongue again, and this time, you couldn’t help but huff out a laugh. Strange cracked an actual smile as well, jerking his head towards the staircase.
The two of you began walking back up the steps, a weight settled off both of your chests. Miles more so than you—having to watch you die over and over again had taken a serious toll on him.
In a blink of an eye, the stairs disappeared beneath your feet, and the two of you found yourself right outside the Sanctum. Bewildered, the two of you glanced back, only to see a golden-ringed portal just behind you. Strange saluted with two fingers, raising his mug to slurp at the mysterious mauve sludge within his mug. 
The portal closed a second later. 
You and Miles stood in a fragile silence for a long moment.
“Miles… what you had to go through… I’m so sorry, it must’ve been a living nightmare. I can’t possibly imagine what that’s like. Are you sure you’re okay? Because I’m here to listen if you want to talk about it,” you whispered, glancing his way. Your expression had softened with raw concern, practically bleeding with affection for the young man beside you.
Instead of answering your question, Miles just shook his head, tightly winding his arms around you and squeezing. His nose rested against the crown of your head as he inhaled the homely scent of your shampoo. After recovering from your initial shock, you returned the embrace, the fabric of his shirt crumpling beneath your grip. His shoulders began to tremble.
“Are you crying?” you asked when he sniffled quietly.
“No,” he replied, voice thick. “Doctor Strange just has… dusty magical carpets, is all.”
A peal of laughter fell from your lips, and you fondly knocked your forehead against his. “Careful now, wouldn’t want Wong to fire his ‘apprentices’ now, would you?”
Miles gave you a watery smile, before pulling away, holding you at arm’s length. “Can you stay with me tonight? I just… I don’t wanna lose you again. I wanna make sure I wake up in the real tomorrow—where you’d still be alive.”
Leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek, you gave him a gentle grin. “Sure, Miles. Oh, we can watch the new season of Yellowjackets together!”
“Okay,” Miles said, watching you with a lovesick gaze as the two of you began walking down the street, one that made his dark irises all molten and doe-like. “Anything you want.”
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NOVEMBER EIGHT.
Miles’ eyes cracked open blearily. A ray of sun was glaring through his window, shining directly into his face. From outside, he could hear cars honking and the flutter of a pigeons’ wings as it flew away from his windowsill.
Memories of yesterday—or rather—several yesterdays, came rushing to the front of his mind. Immediately, Miles sat up in bed, his foot accidentally knocking against the laptop sitting on top of his blanket.
Initial panic beginning to wane away, Miles looked to his side, relief flooding his veins upon seeing you splayed out on the other end of his bed, cheek smushed into his pillow as you slept. You groggily mumbled something unintelligible at his sudden movement, but slipped back into a peaceful sleep not two seconds later.
You startled back awake when Miles let out a sudden whoop of unrestrained joy, loud enough to alert his parents in the kitchen.
“Ugh, Miles,” you groaned, burying your face deeper into the pillow. “Shut up.”
Wincing, Miles eased back into bed, patting your shoulder while whispering, “Sorry, sorry. Go back to sleep.”
He tugged you close into his side, finding solace in your warmth—a physical reminder that you were real. 
This was real.
Miles grinned into your hairline, and clutched you all the closer.
By the time his mom and dad peeked their heads into his room to check that you two were alright, they were not at all surprised to see the kids fast asleep, limbs tangled and softly snoring away, with Miles taking up most of the space while you were squished against the wall.
The door softly shut once more, and Rio casted an amused glance at her husband, who also had the habit of taking up too much space in bed. “Like father, like son.”
Affronted, Jefferson followed after his wife as she strode away, thinking she was talking about his loud unconscious mannerisms (snoring, and, on occasion, talking in his sleep). “What? What do you mean by that? I told you, I don’t snore! Not anymore, at least…”
2K notes · View notes
despairots · 11 months
Note
miles 42 and miles 1610 are twins and fight over reader and try to impress her and stuff
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━━━━━━━━ talk about first impressions.
earth1610! miles morales x gn! reader x earth42! miles morales. fluff and warning, there’s some suggestive comments from grown adults. i started this yesterday but im posting once/twice a day until i burn myself out from writing and deleting requests. reader is like peni parker. ignore the description, my brain was idk.
please remember that in my last oneshot, earth 1610 miles will be spiderman and earth 42 miles will be the prowler, the two are vigilantes, keep that in mind. also you’re an anarchist lolsies!!1!1! the spanish translation might not be accurate. leaving this on a cliffhanger too LMFAO. you’re always an anarchist in these oneshots.
where the morales twins can’t help but fall for the technology nerd who can do a lot of things, trying to impress you and gift you stuff in public, and with you, obviously being a talented person, you apparently have a lot of admirers, especially weird, old, strange adults.
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you sighed in embarrassment at the two morales twins trying one up eachother with giving gifts to you or impressing you. some people would call you lucky, some would be jealous of you.
being fought over the two most attractive guys in brooklyn vision who may look the same but act like polar opposites is a nightmare.
the two may be extremely smart and artistic but they for sure, had different personalities.
miles morales is smart and passionate, committed to others before himself. he has a lot of love for science and art, which he got from his mother, making inventions since he was younger.
the two are both suckers for music, mixing beats as a hobby with their uncle aaron when they were younger.
miles is sociable around crowds, as even when he struggled to fit in after moving to brooklyn vision, would often start conversations with those he came across on the street.
though many of his acts are selfless, mikes is partly driven by low self-confidence in his own abilities, feeling smaller than he is.
since becoming spiderman, miles is extremely eager to help others. this is as much to his credit as it is to his detriment, as he will often put himself in grave, life-threatening danger, in his quest to protect his friends and those he cares about.
myles morales, on the other hand, may also be smart but he’s closed off only being carefree with you and his twin brother. he also has a lot of love for art, spray painting with his brother.
myles isn’t one to talk, again, he’s closed off and usually upholds a stoic persona, opposed to his brother who doesn’t have a problem showing how passionate and cheerful he is.
with him being the prowler, and technically being labeled as ‘spidermans rival’, ignoring that the prowler is his own being. he had a strong morality of protecting his family and you after his father had died.
to which leads him also going into life-threatening dangers.
“[name], do you have any idea how lucky you? like, i would die to be in your spot!” you rolled your eyes at that sentence, “then do it.” your snark reply made a few people in the hallway snicker.
now back to you, [name] [lastname], the robot-technology-hacking loving nerd that grew with the morales twins and them fighting over you, it’s not something that’s lucky.
that constantly one-upped eachother to gain your attention, to the point they wouldn’t HESITATE to embarrass eachother in front of you along with literally fighting who got the best present for you.
it didn’t help since you liked both of them, i mean, how couldn’t you not like them? they were literally labeled ‘most attractive boys alive’ and their personality didn’t help, why do you think you fell deeply in love?
“i got the best gift-“
“i did!”
your bestfriend, gwen stacy, sneaked her arm around you, “i obviously did.” she gave you a smug looked as you sighed in your hands with embarrassment, remembering the time you two accidentally kissed (more like pecked eachother on the lip).
you two vowed to never talk about that again but since that was two years ago, you guys are all 15 by the way, which you guys were 13 by the time she stole your first kiss.
the morales twins didn’t like that, uhh, next!
“ahora no es el momento, gwen.” you muttered, expressing massive stress from the two and the welcomed gwen, “i — uh, failed spanish.” you made a ‘that’s-the-point-‘ look.
“siempre suenas bien hablando en español.” myles commented, shooing gwen’s arm off your shoulder and throwing his arm over yours instead.
“get apagado de [nombre], myles.” miles rolled his eyes and scoffed at his twin, “at least i get an a+ in spanish.” miles gasped at the comment with offence.
“this is why you’re failing science, estúpido!”
“estoy siendo peleado por gemelos estúpidos.” you pinched the bridge of your nose before sneaking out between the twins quarrel, heading over to foam party.
did i mention that you won awards and was on the news for making a working robot suit and finding out how to time travel?
mutters and comments were heard in the coffee shop, irritating your already bad headache. ‘i hate society.’ you rubbed your temples, before ordering your drink and waited.
apparently those minutes of waiting, you got… weird, suggestive comments from grown adults. your face scrunched up every time they said something about you.
“that shirt really compliments your curves.”
you’re were just 15.
“you’ll find a person just like me.”
they were in their late 30s.
“how ‘bout instead of wasting your pretty little time in this coffee shop, you come to my place.”
you just wanted your coffee.
“can i get your number?”
stop.
“you’re really sexy.”
stop it.
they tried grabbing your hand.
“i’ll treat you better.”
stop it. they tried kissing your hand before someone clocked them in the face, “aren’t you an adult, man?” miles’ voice was heard beside your ear as he tried comforting you.
myles rubbed his knuckles with a grossed look on his face. they saw that they were harassing you as you tried to move away from them, worst thing yet, nobody tried to do anything.
they saw what was happening but didn’t help, god they really hated adults.
“acércate a ellos, y será mucho peor que un puñetazo en la cara.” they ran off, myles grabbed your order as the three of you left. it was quiet, too quiet for your looking.
“i could’ve handled that y’know—“ miles handed you a box, opening it to which showed a necklace with a charm that was your hacker logo. you could feel the myles’ eye twitched.
“remember i got [name] a car—“
“shut the hell up, man!”
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[name] after the morales twins keep giving them money and gifts.
942 notes · View notes
wol-fica · 10 months
Text
-ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕗𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟: ℙ𝕣𝕖-𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕤-
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pairings - wednesdayaddams x elemental!reader
summary - in which reader has a crush on a certain goth…
warnings - angst, pining, rude Xavier (sorry), happy ending
an - i miss writing for Nessy, so i think this would be a good addition to my bliss series; this is before they got together :) shit writing btw
—————————
Shit.
That is the word you would use to describe yourself right now.
Mornings have never been your thing, you hated getting out of your warm bed just to immediately go and sit in a boring class for a ninety minutes learning about the anatomy of a mythical horse or whatever the lesson plan was. School was an agitator for you, but you still valued your education so waking up on time was a need-to-do.
Usually though, you at least get yourself ready and look decent enough for the day, but this morning was different. See, yesterday during lunch in the quad, you were writing the final draft of your confession letter to a certain raven haired goth. Your crush had been festering for a few months now, and you had decided to write a little something for her to let her know how you feel.
Everything was going perfect, you were just about done with the letter and was going to slip it under her dorm after folding it up, but a gust of wind ruined your whole plan. The letter flew across the quad and into the hands of Xavier Thorpe, who happened to despise you.
He read the whole thing in one go, snorted at it and stared at you with a little condescending smirk before walking it straight over to his friend group. Everyone, including Enid Sinclair, Yoko Tanaka, Eugene Ottinger, Ajax Petropolus, the twins Kent and Divina, and Wednesday Addams herself all read it collectively.
Xavier was laughing his head off while they did, and Kent joined in once he finished. Ajax chuckled while Enid giggled with a little blush of her face, Eugene looked confused to who wrote it, Yoko and Divina smirked and shared a look before squinting at you, and Wednesday just looked blank.
You watched in pure horror, your body shrinking into your seat while the whole thing unfolded. You felt sick to your stomach, and to top the whole thing off, Wednesday took the letter and crumpled it into a little ball, tossing it into the trashcan next to her.
Your heart shattered, mouth dropped open in shock. Xavier turned to look back at you, pointing and leaning on his knees while laughing at your expression. Tears formed into your eyes, and with one last look at the girl you so badly liked, you snatched up your things and ran.
Fast forward to now, where you just looked dead. Your hair was disheveled, there were dark bags under your eyes, and you barely made any effort to make your uniform look fit and well kept. Your tie was loose, your jacket was unbuttoned, and your shirt was wrinkled and dusted at the collar. You had no socks on, and you didn’t even bother to put a belt on your pants.
People stared in class, whispering amongst themselves while pointing at you. At one point, you thought you saw Enid shoot you a look of pity, but you shrugged it off to being your sleep-deprived brain playing tricks on you.
You looked depressed, because you were, and it did not help when you crossed Xavier in the hallway and he said loudly to Kent, “Looks like a dirtbag!”
You sighed, glancing up at the darkening sky before hurrying to get to the quad for dinner. You planned on eating, and getting back to your dorm as soon as you could so no one would have to endure looking at you any longer.
After standing in line and grabbing your tray, you trudged to an empty table and sat down, slumping in your seat. You were exhausted from lack of sleep and crying all night, and it wasn’t a surprise to you when you leaned your forehead against the table and tears started to form again. Your tray of food was left untouched while you cried to yourself, and the stare from a certain goth went unnoticed by you.
Wednesday was watching you, her black eyes burrowing into the side of your head while your body shook slightly with each painful sob you produced. She felt a weird feeling in her stomach, one of pity and remorse she didn’t understand. Her heart was telling her to go to you, to pull you into her arms and hold you close while she comforted you, but her stubbornness refused the idea.
“Wednesday.”
She turned her head away from you, choosing ti look at Enid now, “What.”
Enid sighed, glancing at you before looking back at her roommate, “You should talk to her.”
Wednesday furrowed her brow, “There is no reason for me to.”
“Yes there is.” Enid replied, bringing her fork to her mouth and chewing on a piece of steak.
“Just because she sent me a confession letter, doesn’t make me obligated to take care of her.”
“Wednesday c’mon!” Enid said, giving her friend a look, “You read that letter, she really likes you!”
Wednesday glared back, “And? I still see no reason for me to go talk to her.”
Enid sighed, glancing around before leaning in to whisper lowly, “What Xavier did was unacceptable and rude, you should at least make sure she is okay.”
Wednesday turned to look at you for a moment, the pang of guilt returning when she saw you had lifted your head. Your face was stained with tears, eyes heavy and tired from crying. You meekly picked at your food, not even bringing the utensil up to take a bite.
“I suppose I could check in to see how she is.” Wednesday murmured, her heart beating slightly faster at the thought of talking to you.
“You should.” Enid said, turning back to her steak, “It’s the right thing to-.”
“But her sadness is not my problem.” Wednesday finished, sparing you one last glance before picking up her book and continuing to read.
“Wednesday!” Enid exclaimed, “Really? You won’t even ask her how she is feeling?”
“She’s clearly sad Enid, I don’t need to ask to see that.”
“Wednesday.” Enid growled, gaining her roommate’s attention, “Go talk to her, now.”
“You cannot make me-.”
“I see how you look at her.”
Wednesday’s mouth snapped shut, her eyes locking with Enids.
“I see how you stare in class,” Enid said, “I notice how you have her schedule in your desk, and how you blush when she walks by.”
Wednesday opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“You like her, it’s clear as day. But you can’t break her heart just because you don’t want to accept your feelings for her.”
Wednesday glared at Enid, practically foaming at the mouth in anger. She wanted to respond, a little clap back about how she barely even knows you, but nothing came forward.
“Go to her, before it’s too late.” Enid finished, nodding her head at your retreading figure as you left the quad.
Wednesday huffed, giving her roommate one last silent threat before slamming her book shut, stuffing it in her bag, and quickly following after you. Her steps were quick and quiet, not wanting you to spin around and see her before she could get to you.
She eventually followed you to your dorm, coming up the stairs right as you shut the door. Her breathing was strained, and her face was slightly flushed with color from moving so fast. She slowly approached your door, apprehensive and suddenly nervous for the first time in her life.
What should she say to you? How should she speak? Should she be defensive? Or should she just confess her own feelings and see how you react? The consequences of all the outcomes were dreadful in her mind, but she had no other option than talking to you.
So she did what she does best, lost all expression from her face, sucked in a deep, and knocked on your door. She waited an antagonizingly long moment before stepping backwards when the lock clicked.
The door swung open, revealing you in black sweatpants, a white tank top, and still looking as depressed as you were during dinner. You froze when your eyes locked with Wednesday, your lips parting and eyes widening when you realized who was in front of you.
You both stood there for a moment, the world seeming to stop while you stared at each other. Wednesday was waiting for you to move or speak, while you were thinking the same.
“Can-.” Wednesday swallowed, clearing her throat, “Can I come in?”
You closed your mouth, eyeing around behind her, and nodded. She walked past you, turning when you closed the door and locked it. Her eyes scanned all over your walls, taking in the movie posters and tapestries that you had taped up. She awkwardly placed her bag at the foot of your bed, choosing to sit on the end of it while watching you move around and clean.
“Y/N.” Wednesday said, slightly irritated with how you were trying to ignore her with doing a spontaneous house-keeping.
“Yeah?” You replied timidly, still sweeping over by your closet.
“Come here.” She requested softly, patting the spot next to her.
You gulped, your shoulders tensing before you dropped the broom and sulked over to her. You plopped down next to her, leaning back until you laid flat on the mattress while she sat next to you.
“I read your letter.” Wednesday said after a moment of silence, “It was…passionate.”
“Oh my god just say you felt uncomfortable.” You groaned, putting your hands on your face.
Wednesday paused, letting you ramble and complain about the incidents from yesterday’s lunch fiasco. She listened until she had enough, slamming her hand onto your thigh to silence you.
“I actually found your confession to be quite exceptionally written for someone like you.” She murmured, her thumb absentmindedly stroking your skin, “You should consider a writing class.”
You eyed her warily, skeptical of her words. Slowly, you sat up, trying your best to not cause her to move her hand, “You really think so?”
“Yes, and I also have some of my own things to confess…” The ravenette said, tearing her eyes away from yours to look at the floor.
You placed your hand on top of hers, a silent encouragement to speak her mind.
“I have realized that I myself have my own feelings I need to share.” Wednesday started, her hand twitching under yours, “It has come to my attention that I have gained something called a “crush” on you-.”
Her sentence was interrupted with lips crashing into her own, salty but soft and welcoming with warmth. She instantly reciprocated, her hands sliding around you neck while yours grabbed at her waist.
Her lips were plump and tasty to you, flavored like black cherries and stale burgundy lipstick from this morning. You pulled at her, guiding her into your lap so you could kiss her more properly. Her tongue slid against yours, a small whimper passing through your mouth and into hers from her hand scratching at your neck.
You soon parted for air, giggling when she chased you. She huffed, but sighed in satisfaction when you tucked your face into her neck, pressing a few kisses there that made her stomach all fluttery.
“Your heart is beating super fast.” You noted, hugging her closer when her fingers wound into your hair, “Do I make you that flustered-?”
“Be quiet.” She whispered, smirking when she heard you purring from her fingers scratching your scalp.
You complied, leaning back with her in your arms when she pushed you slightly. She murmured soft praises to you, guiding you into a deep sleep that you so desperately needed.
“Sleep Y/N.” She cooed in your ear, humming when your eyes fluttered shut, “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
You felt your brain drift off into slumber, a smile etched on your face while you held the girl of your dreams.
What wonderful bliss…
——————
taglist: @cartierdreamx  @tundra1029 @red1culous @vorsdany @andsoigotabutterfly @theafterofnevermore @yomomisgay @house-of-lovin @slvt4lanadelrey @thenextdawn @nepobaby08 @dunohilly @somekindofpoet @alexkolax @cinffy23 @pedrosprincess @amberfreemansburntface @myfturn
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holylulusworld · 2 months
Text
TOL - I’m your daddy now (1) - Lloyd Hansen
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Summary: You reached the end of the rope.
Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Singlemom!Reader
Warnings: plus-sized reader, needy Lloyd, Lloyd being Lloyd, Lloyd is an ass and boob enthusiast, mentions of sex for money, money trouble, mentions of cheating (her ex), groping, slight mommy kink (kinda, it's Lloyd)
A/N: This is part of my Traders of love (lust) masterlist series. It's the prequel to TOL - Like a virgin (Bucky Barnes) and tells the story about Lloyd and his assistant sunshine.
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You reached the end of the rope. 
With your three-year-old little boy depending on you, it’s not easy to face reality. In two weeks, you will have to leave your home. The bank will take the house, and even the wreck of a car you call your own.
Your deadbeat of a husband left you with nothing but debs and resentment for men. He’s out and about with a younger, prettier, and slimmer girl. – His words, not yours.
While you tried to save your marriage, he fucked some woman he met at a bar behind your back. You knew he was a sleazy and worthless bastard, but never expected him to turn his back on his son too.
It’s not that you didn’t try anything to make enough money to pay for the mortgage and feed your son. One too many nights you went to bed hungry, only lukewarm water in your belly to at least save enough money to buy food for your baby boy.
“Mommy,” your little boy yawns as he looks up at you. He holds out his chubby hands, whining because you don’t pick him up. You just look at him for a moment, feeling your heart chatter all over again.
“How could I ever fall for your father,” you sniffle when you pick your son up. You peck his cheek and sigh. “At least he gave me you. The only good thing coming out of this relationship.”
You nuzzle his cheek and try to ignore the ache in your chest, and your growling stomach. At least you got paid yesterday. It’s not enough to keep the house for another month, but you can get food on the table.
Whatever happens tomorrow, you don’t know. The website you found promised help in hopeless situations. You never know with the internet, but it’s your last resort.
If they don’t keep their promises, you’ll end up on the street with your son only because your husband ran off with all of your savings. He even stole the money your grandmother left you for desperate times.
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“Hi, uh-I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I have an appointment,” you wring your hands while looking around the lobby of the building inheriting the company promising to save your home. The woman at the reception doesn’t even look your way. She huffs and lifts her perfectly manicured index finger to stop you from talking.
“I don’t think you are what we are looking for,” she snaps at you, and your heart sinks. You look down at your body, sighing deeply. The business outfit you are wearing is a tight fit. You gained weight during pregnancy you never got the chance to lose. “You should go home and bake cookies for your kid.”
She points her finger at the stain on your blouse, simply to embarrass you even more. Some women are like that. They try to feel better, or above you by making you feel small.
“Kiki, that is enough,” you flinch when a hand brushes over your ass. The man pats your cheeks, humming happily. “What do we have here?” He purrs and gropes one cheek. “A perfect plump ass.”
“Mr. Hansen, Sir,” the woman splutters. She looks like she saw a ghost, or worse, a monster wanting to eat her alive. “I told her that she doesn’t belong here.”
“Kiki, Kiki,” Hansen tuts while patting your ass. “I decide who belongs here.”
You don’t know what to do. Usually, you’d slap any guy trying to feel you up across the face or kick their balls. But this man could be your way out of your financial crisis. 
“Yes, of course, Mr. Hansen but just look at her,” she squeaks, and points at you. “I don’t think any of our clients want something like this to fulfill their…”
“ENOUGH!” Hansen slams his fist onto the receptionist's desk, making Kiki flinch. “We never talk about our clients nor our employees in front of people outside of our organization. You are dismissed.”
“What?” She stares at Hansen in disbelief. “For today or…”
“Forever,” he huffs and turns around. The man brushes his index finger and thumb over his mustache and grins like he saw something he’d love to devour. You are afraid it’s you.
“I have an appointment,” you clear your throat and try to ignore your heart hammers in your chest. This man looks more like a wolf, with sharp teeth and glowing eyes, than a man. 
“I know, sunshine,” he smirks and holds out his hand. “Please excuse my annoying assistant. She’s no longer working for me.”
You’d love to roll your eyes at the man in front of you. He’s one of the guys who believe you must immediately fall for his charm and non-existent manners. 
“If you’d like to follow me inside my office, sugar plum,” he wraps his arm around your shoulders, and snickers, "we can talk about your problems and how to solve them.”
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“So…” He plops down on a leather couch. He pats the seat next to him, but you prefer standing in the room. “What brings you here, sunshine. How can Lloyd help you?”
“I found your website while searching for a way to keep my house,” you lick your lips. You hate that you must talk about your situation with this man. 
“Humor me,” he smirks and pats the seat again. “If you want me to help you, I want to know it all. From the beginning.”
He tilts his head and looks you up and down. “What do you want to know?” You huff and cross your arms over your chest. “I came here, even though your offer sounded fishy. I reached the end of the rope.” You throw your hands up, and sniffle.
“Now, now. No tears in Lloyd Hansen’s office,” he gets up to march toward you. Lloyd cups your face and tilts your head. “I need to know every detail, sunshine. If you are lying, I’ll send you home with a slap to your plump ass.”
“Fine,” you snap at him and push against his chest. “Quit pro quo, Mr. Hansen. After I told you everything about my situation, I want the truth about your offer.”
“Be my guest,” he smirks darkly. “I hope you don’t pee your pants getting to know the truth.”
“I came this far,” you sniff, “you don’t scare me, Mr. Hansen. You’re not the first man wanting me to fail.” 
“A cocky one, I see,” Lloyd says as he sits back down on the sofa. “Begin, then.”
“What do you want to know? That my deadbeat of a husband left me for some bitch he met at a bar?” You drop your bag onto his desk and take your jacket off. “Or that I must raise my three-year-old son without him because his dick was more important?”
You stride toward Lloyd and step between his legs. He looks up at you, amused as you cup your tits. “I will lose my house and my car. I don’t make enough money to keep the house. He stole the money I spared to give her a nice life.”
“I see,” he licks his lips. “I think you already got what I have to offer.” Lloyd tilts his head and smirks as you start to unbutton your blouse.
“You want me to fuck you, right? That’s all this is about,” you wrinkle your nose. “And I’ll get the money I need to keep my house.”
He grins now. “Sunshine, you didn’t get that this is about business. I’ll put you on my website and my clients can decide if they want to fuck you or not.”
“Oh…” You sigh deeply. “I guess this means there is no hope.” You turn around to grab your bag. “Sorry for wasting your time.”
“Sunshine, wait,” he’s on his feet before you can grab your jacket. “I didn’t say you can just leave. Don’t you want to end up getting fucked good by my clients?”
“Do you honestly believe I was waiting to get fucked by random douches,” you turn back around and slap Lloyd with your bag. “I came here to find help, not dick.”
His grin widens as you slap his chest, face, and shoulder with your bag. “Careful, sunshine. If you don’t watch out, you’ll end up making me rock hard.”
“You’re disgusting,” you wrinkle your nose and cock a brow. 
“Oh, mommy can get mad,” he purrs and roams your body with his eyes. “I bet you are a strict mommy, huh? Do you scold your baby boy?”
“No!” You snap at Lloyd. “Keep my son out of this!” You slap him with your bag again. “Never mention my kid again, you asshole!”
“I knew you were special, sunshine,” he chuckles and grabs your wrist to keep you from slapping him again. “A wildcat ready to scratch and bite me.”
“I’m a tiger mommy if you want to know,” you growl and snap your teeth at Lloyd when he tries to press his lips to yours. “I’ll do anything to protect my son.”
“Sunshine, you’ve got yourself a deal,” Lloyd drops his hands from your arms to grab your face again. This time he kisses you roughly. You bite his lower lip, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He greedily shoves his tongue inside your mouth, devouring your mouth. “I think you’ll make a grand-prime assistant slash sexy bunny for me…”
Part 2
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dixons-sunshine · 13 days
Note
Imagine this…. for the young daryl X young reader au
Reader has a camcorder which she carries around when her and daryl go on little trips and they end up finding it again after years for whatever reason and it’s a nice little fluffy scene where they relive earlier times together before everything
A Trip Down Memory Lane | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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*GIF isn't mine.*
Summary: While unpacking your things for your new apartment with Daryl, you stumbled across an old video camera you had used to film little moments between you and Daryl in your teen years. A visit down memory lane gives Daryl the push he needed to ask you something important.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Pre outbreak.
Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe.
Warnings: Swearing.
Word count: 1.5k
A/n: This request was so cute! I hope you don't mind that I paired it with another idea I had. It just seemed like it would fit perfectly. And I made Daryl romantic in this because he's a romantic deep down.
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
“Dear god, what the fuck was I thinking? That style was horrible!”
Daryl laughed at your comment, pulling you closer into his side. “I think ya looked cute. Kinda like Minnie Mouse in a way.”
“That doesn't make it any less horrible. Polka dots and frilly pink headbands are not my thing,” you laughed, skipping to the next video on the video camera you had found.
You and Daryl were in the midst of unpacking the boxes with all of your things. The two of you had just recently found a cheap enough apartment to rent and were busy organising everything when you had stumbled upon an old video camera that you had used when you were teenagers. Everything else was quickly forgotten as you and Daryl sat in the middle of what should be the living room, surrounded by a bunch of boxes as you took a trip down memory lane.
“Fuck, please tell me tha' ain't me,” Daryl groaned when a younger version of him appeared on the screen. “Jesus, buddy. Ya ever heard of sunlight? It'd do ya good to work on yer tan. Ya look like a fuckin' sheet of paper.”
You chuckled at the comment, nodding your head in agreement. “You do kinda look pale in this.”
“Looks like I needed at least 50 blood transfusions. M'surprised I didn't drop dead back then,” Daryl agreed, shaking his head in disapproval of his former self. “Can't believe s'already been a decade. Feels like jus' yesterday when we were back in yer mom's trailer.”
“Time flies. Now we're moving in to what is hopefully our last apartment for a while. You've got a great job down at that motorcycle repair shop and I've got a great teaching gig,” you replied, placing the video camera down next to you.
Daryl nodded. “Mhm,” he agreed, before giving you a playful smile. “Dun' know 'bout yer gig, though. Those five year olds are gremlins. They're gon' eat ya alive when ya start on Monday. Ya dun' stand a chance.”
You faked an offended gasp and shoved him lightly, eliciting a laugh from him. “I'll have you know, Mr Dixon, that I'm more than capable of handling a couple of five year olds. I've been doing it for two years.”
Daryl smiled and pulled you closer into his side, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Yeah, I know. S'those high schoolers yer plannin' on teachin' one day tha's gon' eat ya up. Teenagers are the real ones ya should look out for.”
“Luckily that won't be for a while. I'm quite content on just teaching the little ones for now,” you responded, nuzzling your face into his chest. “And teenagers aren't that bad. Most of them are just misunderstood. Some of them are in situations a lot like—”
Despite cutting yourself off, Daryl knew exactly what you meant. If it were any other person, Daryl would've gotten pissed, but it wasn't just any other person. It was you, the love of his life, the person who's stuck with him despite everything, because of everything. He wouldn't fault you for one slip up. God only knows he'd said so much worse a couple of years ago, but you forgave him.
You were amazing to him like that.
“Situations a lot like wha' I went through,” Daryl finished for you, letting out a deep sigh.
“Sorry,” you hurriedly apologised, pulling back slightly to look into your boyfriend's eyes. “I didn't mean to bring it up. I—”
A tender kiss to your lips shut you up instantly. When Daryl pulled back, he gave you a reassuring smile. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel like he'd get mad at you for one minor slip of the tongue.
“S'alrigh',” he reassured you. “M'not mad. And yer righ'. There's way too many kids tha' go through wha' I went through. Tha's why any highschool would be lucky to have ya. Ya could help a lot of kids in situations like tha'. No, ya will help a lot of kids in situations like tha'. Jus' like ya helped me.”
You smiled and gently cupped his cheek, bringing him into a sweet kiss. “I love you,” you whispered when you pulled away, resting your forehead against his.
“I love ya too. More than ya'll ever know,” he responded, before pulling away and reaching for something in his pocket. “But maybe this will give ya a glimmer of how much I love ya.”
You gasped in surprise, happy tears welling up in your eyes. A choked up laugh escaped you, ecstasy flooding through your body as your eyes flickered between the man you loved and the small, round object he held delicately between his fingers.
A ring.
“I know this ain't the most expensive ring out there, and it dun' have some big diamond in the middle tha's worth more than this apartment, but m'hopin' s'enough. If I could get a better one, I would, and I will someday. Someday when I finally get promoted and yer teachin' high schoolers, when we dun' have to worry 'bout rent and shit like tha'.”
You smiled through your tears, another small laugh escaping. “Daryl—”
“Nah, please let me finish 'fore I chicken out,” he cut you off. When you nodded, he continued. “Ya've always been there fer me. Ever since we were twelve and ya started joinin' me by tha' river. When I needed ya the most, ya were always there with a reassurin' smile and a willin' ear. Then ya became my girlfriend ten years ago, and despite everythin', ya've stuck with me. Despite my outbursts, my baggage, my brother...”
You laughed at that. “I really don't like your brother.”
Daryl chuckled and nodded. “I know, but ya stayed. Fer ten years now, ya've been by my side. Yer my best friend, my partner in crime, the love of my life, and there's no one I wanna spend the rest of my days with than the beautiful, kind, funny, smart woman right in front of me. Yer my ray of sunshine, the one who always manages to make me feel better.”
Daryl adjusted himself until he was on one knee in front of you. Your breath got caught in your throat, and you scrambled to sit on your knees, your eyes sparkling in wonder as the ring glinted in the light.
“Sunshine, would ya do me the honour of bein' my wife?”
Words completely eluded you at that moment. You quickly grabbed his face and brought him into a kiss, that particular kiss conveying more than words ever could. When you pulled away, you smiled softly at him.
“Yes, I'll marry you. You didn't even have to ask.”
Daryl let out a sigh of relief and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “God, tha' was nerve wrackin'.”
You laughed as you pulled away from the hug. “I bet. You know, for a man of few words, that speech was kind of incredible. It definitely beat the one I had planned for you.”
Daryl frowned in confusion. “Wha' speech fer me?”
Nervously, you reached into your own pocket and pulled out a silver band. Daryl's eyes widened in surprise as you showed him the ring you had.
“I was kinda getting fed up with waiting for you to pop the question, so I was gonna take matters into my own hands.”
Daryl let out a laugh of surprise and shook his head. “Wow,” he mused. “Gender roles be damned, huh?”
“Damn straight,” you agreed, before motioning to the ring in his hand. “You can slip the ring on my finger, Mr Dixon.”
Complying with your request, he slipped the ring onto your finger. Before you even had to ask, Daryl extended his left hand to you. You smiled and slipped his own ring onto his finger.
Looking at the ring, Daryl smiled fondly. “Ya continue to surprise me everyday, Mrs Dixon.”
“I'm not a Dixon yet,” you reminded him, allowing him to pull you into his arms for the millionth time that day. “But I could be one soon. Maybe tomorrow, even.”
“Ya suggestin' we elope?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at the idea—an idea that sounded absolutely perfect to him. “Yer mom would kill us if she found out.”
“Well,” you began, admiring the ring on your finger. “It's better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Besides, we don't need some elaborate wedding to show how much we love each other. All we need is each other, and someone willing to officiate. We can go to the courthouse tomorrow.”
“Tha' sounds absolutely perfect,” Daryl agreed, pressing a kiss to your head.
“By the way, if you buy me another ring in the future to replace this one, I will be pissed. This ring is perfect.”
“Whatever makes ya happy, Mrs Dixon. I love ya.”
“I love you too.”
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russellsppttemplates · 8 months
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Papa loves you so much, princess (Mick Schumacher)
Mick and Y/N find out their family is growing
Note: english is not my first language. this is another long piece that I hope you enjoy! I have been talking about this since January, so this is ver long overdue!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions reader's period and pregnancy
Getting up from the bed, you were fortunately quick enough to reach the bathroom in time to pour your guts out on the toilet, leaning on the toilet's side to support your torso. You were already up by the time Mick walked inside the bathroom, his sleepy expression with some traces of concern, "I told you I shouldn't have had that last piece of dessert", you pointed your finger at him through the mirror while you splashed your face, "you kept looking at it like you were a dog that was abandoned on the road, and then when I asked if you wanted my piece, I swear I saw happy tears in your eyes", your husband teased you, rubbing your back in a comforting manner, "do you want me to get you anything?", he asked, "just some cuddles in bed should do the trick", you muttered, allowing him to carry you back to the bed for a few more hours of hopefully uninterrupted sleep.
.
After leaving work, you stopped by the grocery store since you and Mick had noticed you were running low and running out of a few items at home, "we just had a snack break and the next part of the meeting should be the last one, I'm sorry I'm not helping you", he said over the phone while you browsed the aisles, "it's okay, handsome. You can still help me out here, though. I'm the cleaning section and I already have dish soap and the spray for the wooden cabinets, anything else?", you asked, earning a negative answer from him, "no, that's all I think. Next is the bathroom one, right? We are running low on toilet paper, and I used the last plaster yesterday. You only had one box of tampons in the cabinet so given that you are about to have your period, see if you need more of them", he pointed out, grabbing your attention to the matter. It should have started by now, you checked the date on your watch. And you were never late.
"We also need those tissues you keep on your bedside table, I used some today and I noticed they were the last ones", you could hear the smile on his voice, "alright, bub. I'll see you at home, have a good meeting!", you dialed off, grabbing the things he mentioned before looking at the pharmacy section.
You were never late, so it had to be this, right? Barring any other health situations, all of your symptoms aligned with pregnancy symptoms: you had been nauseous, feeling sick (and maybe it wasn't the stolen dessert's fault), you kept falling asleep whenever you rested on the sofa at home and Corinna had complimented the way one of your summer dresses fitted you, claiming that the neckline looked beautiful on you. And you and Mick had been trying, not with a whole calendar but rather just not using protection and seeing where it led you, and maybe this was it. Grabbing two boxes for the sake of it, you put them in your shopping trolley before heading to the till to pay for everything so you could go home.
When Mick got home, dinner was already on the table while you also fed Angie her own dinner, his kiss on your forehead coming with an apology for having arrived just in time for it, "no need to apologise, myself and miss Angie kept ourselves busy", you petted her soft fur before heading to wash your hands, joining Mick at the table and enjoying the meal.
"Does it taste okay to you?", you asked Mick, the taste of the broccoli seemingly off to you, "yes, tastes like this dish always tastes. It's very good, why do you ask?", he questioned, "I don't know, tastes funny to me", you mumbled, using your fork and knife to push the green vegetable to the edge of your plate, "maybe you got a bad one", he noted. That was another symptom, you thought, remembering when one of your friends couldn't eat her favourite meal while she was pregnant because she claimed it tasted different.
"Actually, I've been having a few symptoms, and they are all compatible with-", you were interrupted by your husband, "pregnancy", he smiled, seeing your brushed and stunned face, "I've noticed them too. You haven't told me you are craving your usual sweets when you're on your period, your boobs look even more amazing but the moment I so much as graze my finger in the skin you hiss because of the pain, you're not one to take naps during the day but the moment your head hits the pillow you're out like a light, and it's not common for you to have a bad stomach", he reasoned, making you blush even harder, "Why didn't you say something though?", you asked softly.
Mick shrugged his shoulders, "I just didn't want to burden you, or maybe I was keeping my hopes up and I didn't want to ruin yours, or point out something about your body like that, I'd never want to do so in a way that could be harmful", he answered apologetically, making your get up and go sit on his lap, "you could've said something, I wouldn't be offended, I think anyway, apparently pregnant women get mood swings so I can't speak for sure", you shrugged your shoulders, "truth is, I got some pregnancy tests at the store today because I also thought the same thing, but I wanted to do them with you", you looked at him, "but I don't know how to deal with this hope, like, I could just have some bug, but it is also true that everything checks out...", you fiddled and played with his fingers, "we take it step by step, if you'd like", your husband began softly, "and if you're not pregnant, we can keep trying", he explained, grabbing your hand once you nodded, heading to the bathroom so you could do the tests.
The plastic sticks were on the counter, Angie lying on the bathroom floor while Mick sat on the edge of the tub wirh you on his lap, "just a little bit more, liebling", he kissed the side of your head, "I'm sorry", you whispered, gaining his questioning look, "if I'm not pregnant, I got both of our hopes up for nothing", you explained, feeling his fingers lift your chin up to look into his eyes, "no need to apoligise, liebling. We just keep trying, it's not like we mind trying", he winked, looking at his watch to see the time was up, "I'm ready when you are", he said soflty.
You got up, picking up the sticks and seeing that both of them had the same information, "it won't be trying for a baby, but I've heard that sex while you're pregnant is a whole another level of sensations", you smiled at Mick, showing him the positive results.
"We're having a baby?", Mick mumbled, still not sure if he had grasped what you said in the right way, "we are, baby Schumacher is going to be here in nine months", you cried out, smiling as Mick cuddled you, his arms circling your before spinning you, "Angie! You're going to be a big sister!", Mick said once he put you down.
.
"I remember reading about these old wives' that help you guess the gender of the baby, and your grandmother did some on me for both of you and they turned out pretty accurate, I think", Corinna said as she sat in the outdoor sofa in front of you.
Since Gina was visiting, you and Mick decided to invite her and Corinna to spend the day together, Angie sitting next to her auntie while you sat next to Mick, "Oh, that would be fun!", Gina said as she straightened her back, picking up her phone so she could look them up on the Internet while Corinna started with the ones she knew, "they say that if you have a pointed belly towards the front, it means you're having a boy, and if you have a rounder bump and wider hips, it means it's a baby girl", she said, seeing Mick quickly ask for you consent before he helped you stand as he lifted your t-shirt, "what do we think? Pointy or not so much?", you did a turn around yourself, "I think it's rounder", Mick said earning a nod from his mother, "me too", Gina said, "but I've always had wider and rounder hips", you tried to reason as Gina wrote girl and a stick next to it to help count.
"The next one was that sweet cravings were sign of a baby girl, and salty cravings were sign of a baby boy", and Mick wiped the smug smile off his face, "I've been eating a lot of savoury stuff", you nudged your husband while his sister wrote down the tie.
Gina opened the lunar calendar on her phone while the four of you looked at all the details they asked for, "it's a girl according to this one!", Mick yelled way too close to your ear, "another point for babygirl then", you said, cuddling back to his side and giggling at everyone's exciting.
You saw and tested a couple more and, without realising it, you tried the last one without noticing it was the last, only for it to make another tie between babyboy and babygirl, "so that's it?", Mick said, not expecting it to turn out like this, "you just have to wait and see, you know, like all the people do because you can know for sure on the ultrasound", Gina teased him.
.
Once you got to the OB/GYN, Mick offered to go get you checked in at the desk while you went to find a comfortable chair to sit in while you waited, "final bet: are they a baby boy or a baby girl?", Mick said once he sat down with you, his hand holding yours to calm down your nervous thoughts. The ultrasounds always made you nervous, always wondering if everything was alright and as it should be, so having Mick there to support you and distract you was appreciated, "I think they're a baby boy, and he looks like his papa", you cradled his cheek on your palm, "I think they're a baby girl, and she has your kindness and empathy. It's just my gut feeling", he smiled, kissing the top of your head while he moved your conjointed hands to rest on your bump, feeling the baby kick, "not my chubby cheeks?", you playfully gasped, "what can I say? I think the Schumacher genes are much too strong", he teased you, looking up to the door when your name was called.
Entering the room and greeting your doctor, she asked you a couple of questions before asking you to lay on the little bed, the gel cold on your bump as she moved the wand around, "okay, everything looks good, strong heartbeat for little one and mother as well", she smiled, "I can see it. Do you still want to know?", she asked one last time, earning a nod from both you and Mick, "you're going to have a baby girl, congratulations!", she announced.
Your hand squeezed Mick's, feeling him press a kiss to the top of your head as you both looked at your baby on the screen, "we're having a little girl? Liebling, it's a little girl", he said, his eyes tearing up as he kept looking at the screen. Despite having feelings and guesses about it, neither of you didn't have any preference, feeling happy just with the idea that you were carrying a combination of you and Mick, but you couldn't help but get all goddy as you imagined Mick with a little daughter, knowing she would have him wrapped around her finger from the moment she was born. Even thinking now, she has him wrapped around her finger since you both found out you were pregnant.
"She looks good, there isn't anything that looks concerning. The measurements are all within the norm, everything looks good. Congratulations, mama and papa!", she smiled, "do you want copies to take home?".
While she went to get the slightly exaggerated number of copies of baby Schumacher (Mick wanted everyone that was important in his life to have one), your husband helped you clean the skin on your bump, "are you happy?", you looked at him, not seeing any signs of uneasiness but feeling his a little bit tense, "I am, liebling", he said, "but she's going to be here soon, you know? Little one is growing so fast, I can't believe we're past the half way point", he admitted, "I just don't want to disappoint any of you", he gulped, making you craddle his face with your hands, "My love, I know you and believe me, if how everything has gone until now is any indicator, we are going to have princess treatment", you smiled softly on an attempt to calm him, "thank you for sharing this with me, though. You can always share your worries with me, Mick", you finished, kissing his lips passionately, "I love you, liebling", he kissed you back, "and you little one, papa loves you so much, princess".
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befuddled-calico-whump · 11 months
Text
✨Content Tagging Guide✨
disclaimer: this is not directed at anyone, nor was it sparked because I've seen anyone mistagging anything. I just like lists and I'm going to make it everyone's problem :)
So you wanna write a story with darker themes, but are mayhaps a little uncertain about all the different content warnings you've seen.
Not to worry! Hopefully this quick guide will clear things up. To illustrate each level, I'm going to use macaroni and cheese as the content example. Without further ado...
cw: macaroni and cheese
^^this warning is very general. It tells the reader the content will show up at some point within the text, but doesn't specify the detail, use, or extent.
cw: macaroni and cheese (mentioned)
They drove through town, past the busy main street, and the factory where the local brand of macaroni and cheese got its packaging.
This warning tells readers the content will be mentioned; maybe in dialogue, or in a description, but not explored in detail.
cw: macaroni and cheese (discussed)
"I'm lactose intolerant," he said. "So I can't---well, I shouldn't eat stuff like that."
"But you did anyway?" they pressed. "I'm sorry, just... How did it feel? After?"
"Awful. I really should've listened to my common sense and ordered something besides mac and cheese."
As you'd expect, this warning tells the reader that the content will be discussed, either in conversation, or through a character's thoughts. Discussions can involve the moral implications of the content, how the content fits within the world, philosophies relating to the content, and the emotional or lasting effects of the content on a character.
cw: macaroni and cheese (referenced)
He tapped her shoulder. "Hey, I didn't see you after work yesterday, you okay?"
"Fine now," she said, shrugging. "I just had a bad batch of mac and cheese for lunch."
Very similar to "mentioned", this warning often implies a non-explicit, non-graphic mention of the content.
cw: macaroni and cheese (implied)
He frowned down at the bowl, then averted his eyes, appetite lost by the gooey yellow mass inside, and the heavy, creamy smell wafting off it.
This warning tells readers that the content is not outright stated, but the character's reactions and actions imply what's going on. If you could remove the context from the scene/paragraph in question and make it look like something else is happening, you probably have implied content. Note that there is a difference between simply "implied", and "heavily implied".
cw: macaroni and cheese (fade to black)
She took her seat at the table, queasiness building in her stomach. Her least-favorite food was to be served, and while she knew it would be rude to decline it, she wasn't looking forward to lunch. As the dreaded bowl was placed before her, she picked up the fork, and plunged it in.
Similar to implied, but instead of carrying on through the scene the content takes place in, fade to black builds up to the moment, and stops, often transitioning to the next scene before the content is given any kind of detail.
cw: macaroni and cheese (non-explicit)
For lunch, he was served a bowl of mac and cheese, one of his least favorite meals. He choked it down anyway, and hoped he wouldn't get an upset stomach.
This tells the reader the content will be present in some form, but not described in detail. It may have some active bearing on the character or plot, but won't be particularly graphic. While the character may be emotionally affected after the fact, the content itself is glossed over.
cw: macaroni and cheese (explicit)
The bowl was placed in front of him, steam still rising from the substance inside. He knew what it was before he looked. Mac and cheese. And he'd have to devour the entire bowl of it. He lifted the first forkful, strands of yellow cheese trailing from squishy curved noodles, all the way back into the bowl, even as he raised it to his mouth. Damn, it was extra cheesy. He knew his lactose intolerance just wouldn't hold up.
This is often used as the heaviest warning, telling readers that the content and the characters' reactions to it will be described in detail.
Again, this was something I mostly just wrote for fun, and to dramatize mac and cheese but I do hope someone out there finds it helpful. Let me know if there's a type I missed! :)
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petitemistletoe · 11 months
Text
S.O.S. She's In Disguise
Part Two to She-Wolf
Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader, Sirius Black x Remus Lupin, Potter!Reader
Warnings: smut and angst!
Word Count: 4.8K+
A/N: I had to do a deep dive into Beauxbatons and all I can say is I wish we got more Beauxabatons and Durmstrang content because they're both phenomenally interesting. Also the James Potter in She-wolf absolutely eats up the James Potter in Grudges! There were a few of you who asked to be tagged that you could not be :( so sorry! If I left you off the taglist please let me know :)
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“What do we do?” Peter asked, wringing his hands. 
“You two get Remus back to the shack. I’ll try to carry her to the hospital wing.” James put on his authoritative voice but everyone could tell he was incredibly rattled. 
“Do you want one of us to help you?” Sirius asked but James shook his head, picking you up gently and hoisting you over his shoulder. 
“No, no. Take the cloak and go. Madame Pomfrey should be down here any minute you have to go now.” James was not able to hide the quiver in his voice. 
“Okay. We’ll see you soon.” Peter nodded at James before helping Sirius support Remus back to the shrieking shack. 
You woke up as James was setting you down on a bed in the hospital wing. 
“Don’t try to talk, it’s alright,” James said when he saw your eyes widen, “Madame Pomfrey will be back in a few minutes. I filled her in on everything but you need your rest.”
“You know?” You croaked, accepting the water from James and soothing your scratchy throat. 
“That you’re a werewolf? Yes, I worked that out what you stumbled out of the woods.” James pursed his lips and you could tell that he was trying to hard to keep his voice level. 
“I imagine you have some questions, then.” You said, trying to keep your own voice steady as well. 
“Yes. But you can rest first if you’d like.” 
“No, no. We can talk now.” You sat up straight in the hospital bed and smoothed out the blanket that was laid out in front of you. 
“When exactly did you become a werewolf?” He asked. His nails were digging into the palms of his hands. 
“Last year. Beauxbatons has a requirement for outdoor education for all wizards and witches and I’d chosen the option of solo fitness survival. I failed the first round of solo fitness survival so I apparated to a random forest last summer to practice. I did not pay attention and it was during the full moon and I was attacked by one of Greyback’s pack. I barely survived and when I apparated back home I splinched myself pretty badly. My parents knew they couldn’t take me to a hospital because I would be forced to register myself immediately. My mum called your mum and she was able to stitch me up and then was sworn to secrecy. The medi-witch at Beauxbatons tried to help me as much as she could but she’s never dealt with this kind of thing before. Then your mum mentioned in an owl a few months ago that Madame Pomfrey had some experience in this field so I went down yesterday to try to find more information but there were too many people in the hospital wing so we did not have any privacy. I ran into the woods last night and thought that I’d be able to pull myself into the hospital wing in the morning and get Madame Pomfrey’s help then. I knew that Madame Pomfrey’s experience must have come from a student who was also in hiding but I had no idea it was going to be your friend Remus. I also still don’t understand why you were there?” You took a deep breath as you realized you hadn’t taken one breath the entire time you were speaking. 
“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry,” James looked deflated as he put his hand on top of yours, “I was there because Sirius, Peter, and I are all animagi. We became unregistered animagi to help Remus during the moons. They make his moons easier, having other animals to run around with  and he doesn’t have to be stuck in the shack.” 
“Oh James,” you bit your lower lip hard to stop yourself from tearing up, “Remus is so lucky to have friends like you. The moons can be so terribly lonely.” 
“I wish you didn’t have to go through this,” James said, finally breaking. He laid his head in your lap and sobbed. You just ran your fingers gently through James’ hair until his sobs were reduced to a few sniffles. The curtains were pulled open and Madame Pomfrey stepped in, pulling the curtain closed behind her. 
“How are you feeling, Ms. Potter?” She replenished your water and ran her hand soothingly over your forehead. 
“Tired.” You said with a small smile. 
“Of course you are. Take this sleeping draught. Your parents will be coming by later and meeting with Professor Dumbledore. Will you be staying, Mr. Potter?”
“Yes I will. Is Remus awake?” James asked, standing and shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. 
“Yes, he is. He’s supposed to rest so make it quick, Mr. Potter.” Madame Pomfrey left after she made you drink the rest of the draught and you drifted off to sleep. 
James made his way over to Remus’ bed where he was engaged in rapid conversation with Sirius. He was only able to catch the tail end of what Sirius was saying, 
“-That explains why you were so attracted to her. It was the wolf instincts and-”
“James!” Remus cut off Sirius off when James pulled the curtain back. 
“Alright Moony?” James asked, taking the seat next to Sirius’. 
“Yeah, yeah. How’s your cousin?” Remus asked.
“She’s alright. My aunt and uncle are coming to meet with Dumbledore but neither of us know what it’s specifically about.” James sighed. 
“Are you okay?” Sirius asked. 
“I just…I don’t get why she didn’t tell me. We tell each other everything.” James shook his head. 
“You didn’t tell her about being an animagus.” Remus offered. 
“That was different.” James thought about it for a moment before looking back at Sirius and Remus, “You two were talking about attraction and wolf instincts. What the hell is that about?”
“I think it’s probably time for me to go back to bed!” Remus said quickly. 
“Alright. I’m going to see if I can catch my aunt and uncle before they see Dumbledore.” James said with a sigh and left Remus and Sirius on their own. 
“That was close.” Sirius said once he heard the door to the hospital wing shut behind James. 
“Definitely.” Remus nodded. 
“How are you feeling?” Sirius asked. 
“Honestly, the best I’ve felt in a long time. The moon was invigorating rather than draining.” Remus sighed again, thinking about the uncomfortable, awkward implications. 
“You should talk to her.” Sirius suggested.
“Yeah…maybe I will.” Remus said with a small shake of his head. 
When you woke up again, your father was leaning over you, rubbing your forehead gently. 
“Hey,” you said softly, blinking the sleep out of your eyes. 
“Hello darling, I’ve heard that you’ve had quite a night.” Your father said with a sad smile on his face.
“That’s an understatement.” You said, weakly. You pushed yourself up on your shoulders and saw your mother, your Aunt Effie, your Uncle Fleamont, and James were all sitting around your bedside. 
“Have some more water, love,” Aunt Effie poured a goblet for you and held it up to your lips. You drank gratefully, not realizing until the present moment how dehydrated you had been. 
“Professor Dumbledore will be coming down in a few moments to talk. I’m not exactly sure what he wants but I’m sure he will help with the situation. James shared with us that you know about Remus. Your parents said you do not want to register with the ministry, is that correct?” Uncle Fleamont pushed his glasses up further up his nose as he explained the situation. 
“Yeah,” you nodded, “my life will be ruined if I register. I…I don’t want that.” 
“Of course. Then we’ll make that clear to Albus.” Uncle Fleamont said it as if it were the simplest thing in the world. 
“Thank you,” you croaked, “for all being here. I…I don’t know what I do without all of you.”
“We’re your family.” James said, grabbing your hand and giving it a tight squeeze. You nodded and accepted another large gulp of water as you heard the door to the hospital wing open and the deep, calm voice of Albus Dumbledore say,
“Thank you, Poppy. Just that bed over there?” 
“Yes sir,” Madame Pomfrey replied. Your mother stood and pulled the curtain back for Professor Dumbledore to enter. 
“Hello Mrs. Potter, Mr. Potter. Oh, Euphemia, Fleamont, I was not expecting to see you two as well.” Professor Dumbledore bowed his head respectfully as he entered the room. 
“Hello Albus. We thought it best that we come to help with our niece at this time.” Uncle Fleamont said, standing to shake hands with Professor Dumbledore. 
“Of course. Ms. Potter I trust that you are recuperating well.” Professor Dumbledore set his bright blue eyes on you. You nodded. 
“Yes, Professor Dumbledore. I want to apologize for any alarm I may have caused.” You responded. 
“Yes that is something I would like to discuss. I have no problems with the young Ms. Potter finishing her schooling here at Hogwarts where Madame Pomfrey can better care for her. However, Ms. Potter, I am sure you are aware of the ministry’s registry for werewolves.” Dumbledore said. He was speaking perfectly calmly but there was something off-putting about his statement. 
“She will not be registering. Just like Remus.” James said, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. 
“Is that how you feel, Ms. Potter?” Dumbledore asked. 
“Yes sir.” You nodded. 
“I would be remiss if I did not highlight how seriously the ministry takes such affairs. There are severe implications that are in place for witches and wizards who fail to register.” Dumbledore said, placing one of his hands on your bedpost. 
“She is quite sure of her decision, Albus.” Uncle Fleamont stood so he was eye-level with Dumbeldore. 
“You know as well as I do, Albus, that the registry is discriminatory and the way the ministry has treated magical creatures has been nothing short of barbaric.” Aunt Effie said, placing her hand over yours and giving it a light squeeze. 
“I will have Professor McGonagall bring the sorting hat over and then we will set up your schedule and accommodations. I understand, Ms. Potter, that you were Head Girl of your house at Beauxbatons?” Dumbledore diplomatically changed the subject. 
“Yes sir, I was. I was also in Ombrelune house at Beauxbatons. I believe the closest house to it would be Gryffindor.” You said, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly. 
“Ah, Ms. Potter, the houses of Beauxbatons do not directly correspond to the houses of Hogwarts. I will arrange with your future head of house for a prefect position for you as we already have a head boy and girl. If you would be more comfortable, you may stay in James’s dorm this evening, as I understand it has been quite a weekend for you.” Dumbledore left without saying much else. Your parents and aunt and uncle wanted to stay for longer but you sent them off, promising to write and telling them not to worry, the Christmas holiday was just two months away. 
Remus, Sirius, and Peter joined you and James as you waited for Professor McGonagall to come back with the sorting hat. 
“Here,” Peter said, thrusting a wrapped package into your hand, “it’s a chocolate frog. Moony always says they make him feel better after a moon.”
“Yeah,” Remus nodded, munching on his own chocolate frog, “chocolate makes everything better.”
“Thanks Peter,” you said, patting the boy’s hand lightly, “so I take it you forgive me for the broomstick incident.”
“Never! I don’t care if you are a werewolf.” Peter laughed. But the word hung heavy in the air. Werewolf. You looked down at your lap.
“Nice going Wormtail.” Sirius elbowed Peter hard in the stomach.
“Hey! I didn’t mean anything by it.” Peter grabbed at his stomach and glared at Sirius.
“No, you never mean anything. Do you?” Sirius retorted. 
“Tell us more about the houses at Beauxbatons.” James interjected, sending a look Peter and Sirius’ way. 
“There are three houses: Papillionlise, Ombrelune, and Bellefeuille. Papillionlise is the house of kindness and good nature. Ombrelune, my house, is the house of ambition, curiosity, and logic. Bellefeuille is the house of bravery, sensitivity, and compassion. Everyone wants to be in Ombrelune and we have a little rivalry with the Bellefeuille students.” You explained. 
“Ambition and logic?” Remus asked, “That sounds like Slytherin.”
“There’s no way that you’ll be sorted into Slytherin. She’s a Potter. All Potters are Gryffindors.” James said with a sense of finality in his voice. 
“There’s nothing wrong with being sorted into Slytherin.” A new voice said. It was Lily, carrying a tray of sandwiches that must have been from dinner. 
“Cheers Lily.” You said with a grin, practically shoving an entire sandwich into your mouth. 
“What are you doing in the hospital wing?” Lily asked, “Remus, you’re out of bed early. Feeling better already?” 
“Uh, yeah, well…you see…” James was searching for an excuse but you just shrugged. 
“I’m a werewolf.”
“Oh!” Lily almost dropped the tray.
“You can’t just go telling anyone.” James scolded you.
“Lily isn’t anyone. She knows about Remus and I didn’t want to be a secret between you and your girlfriend, James. Besides, you’ve gone on and on about how smart Lily is, she would have figured it out herself eventually. Lily, I trust you won’t tell anyone?”
“No, no. Of course not. Are you all right?” Lily asked, immediately sitting at your bedside and grabbing a cool soaked rag and placing it on your forehead. 
“I’m fine, thank you.” You said with a small smile. You filled Lily in on your new attendance at Hogwarts.
“Like I said before, there’s nothing wrong with being sorted into Slytherin. One of my good friends is a Slytherin and so is Sirius’s entire family!” Lily said, glaring at James. 
“That’s not much of an argument.” Sirius rolled his eyes. 
“I can’t protect her if she’s sorted into Slytherin, Lily.” James narrowed his eyes, “Those Slytherins are bigots and you know it.”
“It’s not very safe for Remus in Gryffindor either. The way werewolves are seen in the eyes of the wizarding world is not only a Slytherin problem.” Lily crossed her arms over her chest.
“Respectfully, Evans, stay out of this.” James said, coolly. 
“There are many fine and brave wizards in Slytherin. Don’t listen to James.” Lily told you, 
“If this is about Snivellus again, so help me Evans.”
“Fine,” Lily stormed out of the hospital wing. 
“So much for coming between you and Lily.” You said sheepishly. James was still seething with anger but he took a deep breath and said, 
“I’m going to go for quick walk. Sirius, call me when McGonagall gets here.” James stormed out of the hospital wing as well.
“Is Slytherin really that bad?” You asked Sirius, Remus, and Peter.
“A lot of dark wizards, most of my family included, come from Slytherin.” Sirius said with a sigh. 
“That’s all? A lot of dark wizards come from Ombrelune too but so do a lot of amazing wizards. I can’t believe James is being so silly about this.” You shook your head. 
“I think he just wants to protect you.” Peter said, obviously uncomfortable at the idea of speaking ill about his best friend, “you’ve always been like a baby sister to him and he already hates that Sirius and Lily have strained relationships with Slytherins. I don’t think he wants anything like that for you two.”
“All that is premature, anyway.” You said with a head shake, “I haven’t been sorted yet.” As if on cue, you all heard the voice of Professor McGonagall in the corridor. Sirius whipped out his pocket mirror, one that you recognized from your family vault, and whispered for James to come back. 
“Ms. Potter, I’d like to introduce myself. My name is Minvera McGonagall, professor of Transfiguration, head of Gryffindor house, and deputy headmistresses of Hogwarts. Do you have any questions before you are sorted?”
“No Professor.” You said, taking a deep breath as James made his way back into the hospital room. Professor Dumbledore placed the hat on your head. 
“Another Potter,” the sorting hat murmured in your ear, “in all of my years I have only ever sorted Potters into Gryffindor. But you, you are not like the other Potters. You are ambitious. You are curious, always seeking more and more. You have secrets, more than most of your contemporaries. You seem to be the perfect fit for Ombrelune. You know the origin of the name Ombrelune, don’t you?” 
“Uh…no I don’t.” You said, fiddling with your fingers. 
“Ombre is shadow and lune is moon. You hail from the house of shadow moons. Quite ironic, isn’t it? Considering your currently monthly situation,” the hat chuckled, “alas there is no equivalent to Ombrelune so I will have to say SLYTHERIN!”
There was an eery silence that broke out over the room. Professor McGonagall took the hat back and cleared her throat. 
“Congratulations, Ms. Potter, on being sorted into the fine house of Slytherin. Your head of house is Professor Slughorn. I believe tomorrow during breakfast you will be assigned a companion from your house that will show you everything you need. I’ve been told that you’ll spend this evening with your cousin?”
“Yes, Professor McGonagall, that’s correct. She’ll spend the night in my dormitory.” James said quietly. 
“Alright then, have a pleasant evening.” And with that Professor McGonagall marched away. 
“So the conversation is no longer premature.” You said with a weak chuckle, “I’m a Slytherin.”
“It really isn’t that bad James,” Remus said. 
“I can’t protect you in Slytherin.” James said with a sad shake of his head. 
“I can take care of myself, thank you very much.” You crossed your arms over your chest.
“It’s been a long night. Why don’t we go to bed and revisit things in the morning?” Peter offered. You all nodded and headed back up to the dormitories for bed. 
Remus had a restless night. The moon was over but he still felt on edge around you. Of course, things made a lot more sense now but he didn’t want to make an advance for a number of reasons. He didn’t want to burden you, he wasn’t really sure of what he was feeling himself, and he did not want to bring down the wrath of James Potter. It must have been four in the morning when he turned again from his side to his stomach to his other side and then settled on his back. 
“Alright Moony,” Sirius’s sleep laced voice cut through Remus’s thoughts, “what the hell is going on?”
“Can’t sleep.” Remus sighed.
“I figured,” Sirius propped himself up and glared at Remus, “considering you’ve woken me up at every toss and turn.” 
“Sorry. I’ll go downstairs and have a smoke.” Remus pressed a kiss to Sirius’s forehead before making his way downstairs. He wasn’t expecting to see you leaning at one of the open windowsills, angling your blunt out the window so the pungent smoke made its way outside instead of back in the common room. Remus cleared his throat and you turned at the noise, giving Remus a small smile. 
“Hey Remus. What are you doing up?” You asked. 
“Couldn’t sleep.” Remus said with a sigh. 
“Me either.” You handed Remus to joint, which he took gratefully, “Is it always this hard? This soon after a moon?”
“I usually sleep better after a moon, because I’m so exhausted from it. Having you here, though, it’s been different.” Remus realized that he had smoked half of your joint without thinking. He handed it back to you with a sheepish smile. 
“Me too. It’s been easier, having you with me. I guess that was the goal, though, right? Being able to connect with others who could understand my…being a werewolf.”
“Yeah, it can be lonely sometimes. I’m glad to have you here with me.” Remus realized that your eyes had been trained on him the entire time he spoke. You closed the distance between the two of you, crawling into his lap and pressing your lips against his. 
Remus was caught off guard at first but then he kissed you back just as hard. It was intense, hungry, teeth clashing against teeth. You kissed down Remus’s neck and bit along the way, sinking your teeth into the soft flesh. Remus winced at the pain from your sharp teeth but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you to stop because he loved the feeling. You pulled his thick jumper off and ran your nails down the front of his chest, tracing his scars. He felt, awkward, ashamed at first, but you took off your own shirt and he saw the pale, magical scars that lined your own chest. He took a moment to kiss down your chest, kissing your breasts and around your nipples. Finally, he took your right nipple into his mouth and bit down harshly. You moaned out in a mix of pain and pleasure and shock but nodded at him to continue. 
Remus’s hand went down your pants next, tearing your panties off. He held them up to his nose and sniffed harshly. 
“You smell delicious. Good enough to eat.” Remus said, running his tongue over his sharp canines. He pulled your pants all the way off and shoved his face between your legs. You had never been eaten out like this before. Two of his fingers were deep inside you as his tongue made a repeated assault on your clit. His teeth would bump your clit occasionally, sending shockwaves through your system and you had your fingers buried in his hair, yanking the tendrils so tightly that you were near the point of ripping them out. You came on his face, your legs spasming, and you released a howl. That sobered you and Remus right up. You pulled up your pants and chuckled nervously. 
“I, uh, I’m going to go back to bed.” You said, rubbing the back of your neck. 
“Yeah, yeah. Have a good night.” Remus was cursing everything as he watched ascend the stairs and couldn’t help but think about how it might be better that you were going to be sleeping all the way in the dungeons. 
The next morning was a bit awkward as you made your way down for breakfast. The place was alive with rumors swirling about the new girl at Hogwarts. You sat down at the Gryffindor table next to James. Lily gave you a warm hello and then sent an icy glare James’s way before sitting down next to Marlene and Mary. You desperately wished you have spent the day with the Gryffindor girls but the boy you saw a few days ago made his way over to your table. 
“What do you want, Snivellus?” James glowered at Snape.
“I’m your cousins assigned companion.” Snape returned the glare. 
“It just keeps getting better and better, huh.” You said with a small smile. “Alright Severus, I’m all yours.”
Snape barely let you out of his sight for the next month. You were more than adjusted to Hogwarts after the first week but Snape wouldn’t leave you alone, much to James’s chagrin. The marauders joked that Snape must have some twisted crush on you but you weren’t so sure. It felt much more sinister than that. The moon was this evening and you felt like you could crawl out of your skin. It didn’t help being close to Remus. Everything about Remus felt like your nerves were exposed, especially being so close the moon. Tensions were still high between James and Lily, the couple were barely speaking and when they did, it only devolved into a fight. 
You were lucky enough to have potions with Gryffindor but the lovely Professor Slughorn had assigned Snape to be your partner. Your spine felt like it was doing somersaults and kept shifting in your chair uncomfortably. 
“Are you alright?” Snape whispered in your ear as Slughorn prattled on and on about whatever the day’s lesson was. 
“Fine.”
“That time of the month, eh?” Snape asked. 
“What?” Your blood ran cold. 
“Forget I said anything.��� Snape said with a smug grin. Icy sweat ran down the back of your neck. You pushed it out of your mind. Snape didn’t know. He couldn’t know. Right? You were lost in thought as you walked with the boys up to lunch. Snape had made some rude comment to Lily which caused James to jump in front of her and draw his wand. 
“You take that back, Snivellus.”
“Or what, Potter?” Snape asked, drawing his own wand. 
“I don’t need you to defend me, James.” Lily crossed her arms over her chest. 
“Shut up, mudblood.” Snape spat. You felt yourself surge forward but Remus held you back. 
“Don’t. You’re emotional because of the moon,” he whispered in your ear.
“Get away from us, Snivellus. Take your disgusting plague somewhere else.” Sirius looked down his nose at Snape.
“Oh I’m the disgusting one?” Snape laughed, cruelly, “You would know all about unsavory actions, wouldn’t you Black? Lupin?” 
“Take that back.” Sirius was very pale. 
“Everyone keep moving,” it was that boy, the one who looked like Sirius. You knew by now his name was Regulus and he was indeed Sirius’s brother. Regulus was a prefect for SLytherin and it looked like he would be making head boy next year. 
“I don’t answer to you, Reggie.” Sirius said with a hard look on his face. 
“Just go. Before I take points from Gryffindor and Slytherin.” Regulus gripped Snape’s arm hard before Snape could fire off another comment. Everyone made their way to lunch in a much more sour mood than before. 
The moon descended upon you and Remus that evening and things had been great. But for the second time, you woke from a moon at Hogwarts with an uneasy feeling in your chest. James wasn’t there, which was odd, but Sirius was. Sirius looked down at you and Remus with a nervous smile and said, 
“So I messed up.”
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