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#if you know how my mother felt living with me then why don't you try being in MY shoes huh??
rubysparx · 5 months
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Honestly I don't think I'm qualified to make this post, I just don't know if I can make coherent enough words man. But the thoughts are in there and I will try to articulate them. This is probably going to be mostly images though. anyway yeah KABRU POST.
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A couple nights ago (at approximately 2:30am, lasting a little over half an hour) I had a bit of a moment about Kabru. That, too, was mostly images- most of what you see in this more concise post were presented then as well. I think my main points of the "moment" were about Kabru's trauma + self hatred, his autism and/or general otherness, and also a little labru if you'd like..
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I think something easy to start with is I wanna point out Kabru's constant back and forth and conflicting opinions of demihumans and how, I believe, thats a reflection of how he goes back and forth on what he believes his purpose of living is- and the general worth of his own life. I've said it before and i've just kinda shown it in images; Kabru is "i think im a monster and it disgusts me" where Laios is "I know im a human and it disgusts me" (i could go more into the latter on another post)
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the above are both from the world bible, with the left being from the section on kobolds and the right being from the section on Kuro specifically. Utaya was very near to the desert where most of the kobold population is, this is likely why Kabru is able to speak Kuro's language- he grew up around demihumans. (chapter 48 cover, kobold chapter in the world bible) I won't try to speak for how his mother or the rest of utaya felt about the kobolds but I can say that Kabru was very much othered as a child, as was his mother, purely for the way her son's (kabru) eyes looked.
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I feel like its fair enough to say that both kabru and the kobolds were othered, and possibly for similar reasons (villager's seeing them as nonhuman, as monsters) and the fact that Kabru learned their language probably didn't help his case. I think his perception of kobolds (and all demihumans, subsequently himself, as he probably still views himself as nonhuman or not human enough.. deep down) was damaged by the Utaya incident. at 2:30am when I first started this ramble my main comment was that "had the utaya incident not happened kabru would have little reason to feel ashamed for his connection to monsters. and may have ended up similar to laios in that he couldve had otherkin swag" which is just a sort of silly way of saying Kabru could've learned to love the thought that he is possibly nonhuman or at least not hated himself so much for it.
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in the original ramble I said, and quote, "he has been STALKING laios. laios is his hyperfixation to learn how he can ever be loved. he keeps going back and forth so harshly on wether or not he wants to kill Laios and he clearly sees his survival from utaya not as an unfortunate trauma [*] but as a necessary, deserved fate. a punishment for his mother's witchy sins, and for his sin of being non-human. to atone for it all, to apologize for being alive, he tries to better the lives of all humanity. He was set on his way to dethrone the governor of the island . do you understand? im going insane" *i also said somethings about the way he processes other people's traumas and not his own. He's able to understand and even help some people, but he struggles to process his own issues and see himself as worthy of love and life.
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^some examples of Kabru being understanding of or helping others who have suffered greatly. I think its also worth mentioning that with Rin (called "Lynn" in that translation) he says "I wish there was a way to get her out of this" though he's insisted and pushed for himself to go into a dungeon;
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In chapter 94, Mithrun says "The desire I had left wasn't revenge. All I wanted.. was for it to finish devouring me." and I don't feel like it's a stretch to say Kabru was in a similar situation. Mithrun sought out the demon with no plan on how to kill something like that because deep down he wanted it to end his (Mithrun's) own life, to finish the trauma it caused and kill him. I think Kabru went into the dungeon in part with the hopes that it'd kill him. That the same thing that destroyed Utaya and caused him so much trauma would just.. finish him.
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I just think Kabru is a beautifully complex character, I have a lotta thoughts on him and I don't see nearly as many analysis posts for him than I do Laios (despite labru being such a popular ship)
there is no tldr for this post idk how to summarize it. do what you will with this collection of images. have fun. go crazy
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fun fact the woman in the bottom left corner is his mother, she is labeled here as "witch"
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aliceramblez · 4 months
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Dating the Hazbin Hotel Residents 😈
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Tags: GN!Reader, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Mature Topics (ie. Suicidal Thoughts, Alcohol Abuse, SA, etc), Spoilers For The Show, etc.
A/N: Ahhh yes, more brainriot for the pile 😌 I was more of a Helluva gal before the show aired, but now I gotta say these blorbos are a dear part of my heart! Hopefully y'all enjoy these as much as I did writing them!
Consider following my main blog @taruchinator for more solid content & feel free to leave a request here for future HCs~
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Charlie 🌈
When the Happy Hotel first opened its doors and all of Hell started making a mockery of it, you were probably the only one who took it as a sign to try and improve from the low life that you were. It's not like you had anything else to live for, anyway.
As soon as you enter the building, you're immediately greeted by the bubbly Princess of Hell herself (along with a reluctant Angel Dust) who is more than happy to show you around and welcomes you with open arms.
You've never been shown this much kindness and sympathy for your situation before, so it naturally takes you aback and makes you wonder what the catch is. Turns out there's none and the Princess is probably the only sweet soul to live in this shithole.
As you grow closer, she asks you to drop the title and just call her Charlie. She also shares a bit about her situation and how her mother wanted to save sinners from the extermination each year, and now Charlie felt like it was her duty to continue this legacy until her dreams came true.
You can't help but feel touched over how much she cares, so you silently vow to yourself to help her in any way you can, just like she's done for you.
It doesn't take long before the two of you grow even closer and feelings begin to blossom, but you decide to ignore them since why would a Princess ever like someone like you?
But Charlie proves you wrong yet again, since one day she comes to you a blushing mess and confesses her own feelings, asking if you'd like to go out with her. You can't help but vocalize your shock since she could do so much better than a random sinner. She deserved better, too.
She looks at you with fondness in her eyes. “You've been by my side for so long and supported me every step of the way. Who wouldn't fall for someone like that?”
And thus, you are the luckiest person in Hell because you scored Charlotte Morningstar, and whoever says otherwise can get a knife to their throat.
She's the perfect definition of a sweet and patient girlfriend, never pushing you to do anything you aren't comfortable with (since you really aren't used to such adoration in a romantic relationship), but as soon as you give her the get-go, she'll be sure to shower you with as much affection as she can until the doubts in your mind disappear completely.
You aren't that far behind either. Albeit not as good as her, you do your best to be a comforting partner whenever she needs you. This is especially necessary after an extermination happens, which always leaves Charlie devastated and in need of a hug or words of encouragement because she doubts herself sometimes and wonders if the hotel is even working at all.
You remind her how it brought the two of you together, to which she smiles and agrees that at least something good has come out of it so far.
Vaggie 🎀
Both you and Vaggie used to work in the same legion under Adam with the rest of his exorcists. You knew of each other's existence, but didn't really talk much aside from whatever was needed in the midst of battle.
The day she spares a demon child's life, you're doing your rounds nearby and witness the whole exchange, including Lute coming over and ripping both an eye and Vaggie's wings for showing mercy. You don't know why, but it makes your blood boil.
“HEY! What are you doing?! It was just a kid, why not let it slide?”
And just like that, you become a target of Lute's rage as well, being ripped from your angelic status along with receiving a few nasty cuts, yet surprisingly not as bad as Vaggie herself.
Once the two of you are left to die, you immediately try to tend the girl's wounds with whatever you can. Vaggie can only stare in disbelief at what you'd done and questions why you even did so in the first place—now you were stuck just like she was.
“Guess I just don't like seeing injustice... Who knew Heaven could be so fuckin' shitty?”
You both laugh at the irony of it all, and that's when luck is finally on your side as Charlie finds you in the dirty alley and brings you back to the hotel to heal properly.
For the next three years you two stay at the Hazbin Hotel, helping Charlie in any way you can to try and make her dream a reality since deep down you hope that despite Heaven's corrupt system, there can be a small chance that souls can be redeemed. You hide the fact that you're ex-Anges though, since you don't wanna cause unnecessary drama.
During this time period, the two of you become better friends, having your own inside jokes regarding things you didn't particularly enjoy from your time as Angels, as well as learning more about one another.
You're the one to come to terms with your feelings first and decide to lay them on the table for Vaggie to see—she's always been a straight-to-the-point kind of gal, so if you're about to be rejected, might as well have it be done quick. But of course, she replies with her own declaration and desire to give a relationship a shot, which you're ecstatic about!
It's a bit hard at first since you never got to see much of romantic relationships in Heaven while training for murder every year, but you try and make it work. Both you and Vaggie work endlessly to try and make the other happy, and it only makes you fall for each other even more.
Also Charlie is your go-to wingwoman who will be there to give you the best advice to try and woo your girlfriend. She ships you two so hard.
Angel Dust 🕸
Working at a porn studio under an Overlord who owns your soul can be exhausting. You know this better than anyone since everyone who works under Valentino has contracts that won't let you get far with a leash. This is especially true with your friend Angel Dust.
You know about the things Valentino does to the spider demon—hell, everyone in the studio probably knows, but know better than to say anything about it. You're always there for Angel after particularly rough shoots, doing your best to comfort him in any way you can, though there isn't much you can do given you're in the same spot.
When he tells you he's moving to Princess Charlie's Hazbin Hotel, you're so happy for him! At least that will give him some distance from Valentino and his disgustingly filthy hands when he's not working.
This unsurprisingly doesn't bode well with the Overlord, causing him to throw fits of rage around the studio when Angel leaves for the day. You can't help but make a snarky comment that you definitely regret moments later.
“Can one blame him for wanting space from such an overbearing asshole?”
Without his favorite stress toy around, you end up paying the price for such comments. The kind of pain and suffering he puts you through is completely different from what you're used to. Is this the stuff he does to Angel? He leaves you naked, bruised and bloody in your room, and all you can do is muster what little strenght you have left to head for the Hazbin Hotel.
As soon as the door opens, you immediately tumble forward and start losing consciousness. The last thing you remember is Angel's horrified expression before it all fades to black.
Once you wake up and have been patched up, you explain what happened at the studio, and you could've sworn you saw fire in Angel's eyes as he holds on to you, fearing you might disappear at any moment. He begs you to stay in the hotel with him, and you agree without hesitation.
And so, your new routine of heading to work and then coming back to the hotel becomes blissful, not having to deal with that lunatic mothman more than necessary. You also get to spend time off with your best friend, which is always a plus.
Well, ‘best friend’ might not be the best way to describe it. You'd developed a crush on the spider demon even before this whole incident occurred, and now that you were spending more time with him, it only continued to grow.
With the line of work you two had, romantic relationships didn't seem to be a thing that crossed anybody's mind since why have a permanent partner when you could just go around fucking the hottest people in Hell? But you knew your feelings were far beyond from sexual, but didn't wanna ruin what you already had going for you.
One heartfelt drunken conversation after work however, makes you do a double take—Angel likes you back. And that both scares and excites you. But with both of you going over the pros and cons with each other, you decide to give it a chance.
You make sure to always have Angel's consent when it comes to physical intimacy—anything from holding his hand, to kissing to just cuddling. He jokes about not being a porcelain doll, but deep down you know he appreciates it.
You're also there for the rough nights, when he comes home wanting nothing more than to die again and let the earth swallow him whole. Words of reassurance are spoken and you can only hold him and let him cry as you vow to do anything in your power to stop this from happening again.
Husker 🍺
As one of the first guests of the hotel, like any wayward sinner, you find yourself in the bar more often than you'd like. Alcohol killed you in the first place, yet not even in the afterlife could you seem to pull yourself from its grasp.
It's a somewhat welcome surprise to find out that the bartender is going through a similar struggle. He still serves you drinks and lends and ear whenever he's not busy, but will occasionally drop the words of wisdom to watch your fill.
Eventually you two find yourselves doing this little back and forth and aid each other when you're in your dark places—Husk won't let you near the bottle if he sees you're about to knock yourself out, meanwhile you're there to look after him when he has one too many drinks and can't take care of himself.
Not to say he isn't a good drinking buddy—you've found out most of the gossip around the hotel thanks to this sneaky little cat demon and there's never a dull moment with him around.
You learn about his deal with Alastor during a particularly bad night, when Husk's had one too many and isn't thinking straight. You don't bring it up, but now have an eye open for whenever the Radio Demon drags your friend away.
Angel's the one who brings up your questionable relationship to the surface.
“So... you two like, fuckin' each other, or what?”
Your entire face goes red, and if it weren't for the dark fur you could swear you see Husk looking the same. He's quick to get rid of Angel's nosy ass, but now the seed has been planted in your brain—do you like Husk that way?
After careful consideration, you come to the conclusion that yes, you do. And it's honestly kinda terrifying considering how relationships don't usually work out in Hell, at least from what you've seen. Besides, even if you did try and confess, there was always the possibility of him not feeling the same and just being embarrassed by Angel's comment.
So in an attempt to make your feelings disappear, you stop frequenting the bar. Who knew the best way to stop drinking habits was trying to avoid spending time with your unrequited crush?
But of course, Husk isn't stupid. He sees the change in your behavior and let's it slide for a while, until he eventually corners you and asks what's wrong. You decide to get it all out of the way and tell him how you feel.
To the embarrassment of both of you, he holds your hand firmly between his and darts his eyes toward the corner of the room. “Next time you should ask before going off assuming things, ya got it?”
And so, your glass may have been empty that day, but your heart had never felt fuller.
Sir Pentious 🐍
You meet Sir Pentious when you sign into the hotel, and your immediate thought is just how can this snake man be so adorkable, it should be illegal.
As you greet the other residents and staff, you're quick to strike a conversation with him, which based on his body language he was not expecting. He starts telling you a bit about his weaponry and other contraptions, and you can't help but be fascinated by it.
You're a bit of a tinkerer yourself, albeit you've only dabbled in small scale projects—nothing compared to the massive canons and aircrafts that Pentious seems to be familiar with.
He acts like a kid opening gifts on Sinmas when he talks to you about his inventions, clearly never having anyone show interest before. Eventually he'll even ask for your input on certain smaller projects he wants to work on to help around the hotel, all to thank Charlie for being so kind to him and giving him a second chance. You're obviously eager to help!
You two start spending so much time together that the egg boys have started calling you ‘Boss #2’, much to Pentious' embarrassment and your amusement.
One afternoon once exercises are done for the day, the snake demon seems much more fidgety than usual as he invites you over to his room to continue working on his security system prototype. He's a blabbering mess once he has you sitting down and your heart just can't help but swell at each little syllable.
“Dearest (y/n)... you've, um, well... you are a huge inspiration for my work! A-And I wouldn't have been able to create any of this... without your help. You are kind, and smart and very talented.... and w-well, um I-”
You gotta silence the man with a kiss otherwise you two would be here all day. He's puddy in your hands and you can only giggle in return. “I really like you too, Pen.”
Everyone is either saying they called it or groaning in annoyance because fucking FINALLY, you two were just dancing around each other like idiots. The egg boys are just so happy to have someone else besides Pentious to be in their lives, and will do their best to look out for you just like with their own boss.
So yeah, prepare yourself for some sickeningly sweet gestures from this guy cause he will go above and beyond to get you what you need/want even if it kills him (again). And you can confidently say that you'd do the same in return.
Alastor 📻
After running in the same circles when you were alive, it's no surprise to you to end up in Hell, although you never would've suspected that you'd find yourself in the same place as him. It was honestly a huge relief not having to go through this all by yourself.
As Alastor exerted his dominance over Hell as the Radio Demon, you were powerful enough to be an Overlord yes, but rather liked keeping it on the down low instead of making a spectacle of yourself (Alastor was the one for theatrics anyway). Because of this, only select few knew of your true power and what you were capable of.
Instead, if there was one thing you were known for, it was being the only soul allowed to be close to the Radio Demon without the risk of death.
Yes, Alastor was a sadistic, cold-blooded and egotistical mastermind, but he wasn't a monster. You knew that better than anyone. Although the reactions he had to other demons treating you like a joke or calling you the ‘Radio Demon's Pet’ were not helping his case.
“ł₣ ɎØɄ V₳ⱠɄɆ ɎØɄⱤ ₴ØɄⱠ, ɎØɄ ₩łⱠⱠ ₩₳Ⱡ₭ ₳₩₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ₦Ø₩ ฿Ɇ₣ØⱤɆ ł Ɽł₱ ł₮ ₳₱₳Ɽ₮ ฿ł₮ ฿Ɏ ฿ł₮...”
“Al, chill. You're gonna make them shit their pants.”
After his seven year absence, you immediately noticed something was wrong with him, and wouldn't stop pestering until he told you the truth—A deal he made and how his soul was now bound to someone much more powerful than he was.
You were obviously mortified and started looking into ways to try and find a loophole to this, but alas the Radio Demon would just give you his signature grin and tell you not to worry about it. It was his battle to face.
But of course you're quick to remind him that you've stuck together through thick and thin even in life, so there was no way you were letting him handle this by himself. You work as a team—always have and always will. You engulf him in a hug.
“We're gonna figure this out, Al. I promise...”
The grin remains, but his eyes widen slightly in surprise. He hesitantly returns the embrace, patting your back and wiping the tears you didn't even know you were shedding.
“There there~ To think such a sweet and innocent soul wound up in a gutter like this. I cannot say I complain as long as I have your delightful company beside me.”
And so when he says he has a plan that involves Princess Charlie Morningstar and her new Happy Hotel, you follow along. Whatever fate has in store for you two, you'll be ready.
Also Charlie is a sweetheart who could do no harm. Knowing Alastor, he'll probably do whatever he can here and there to help around for the cause. You also offer your services as an undercover Overlord, much to everyone's surprise when you reveal your status.
The Radio Demon may have a plan, but something tells you it won't involve bloody murder (unless extremely necessary or if someone really pissed him off).
Like you said—he's not a monster.
Lucifer 🍎
You and Lucifer were good friends at the beginning of Creation. While you were stuck with the tedious task of designing blueprints for the new ‘Human Project’ that headquarters had in store, Lucifer's Seraphim status allowed him to bring creations to life with the flick of a wrist, much to your delight and wonder.
His ideas and pitches for Earth were always so entertaining to listen to, and you would do your best to encourage him to show them to the higher ups to get them approved—His mind was just filled with joy and love and wonder that you'd never seen before.
Which was why it was always so disappointing whenever he'd come back and say that he was shut down and even mocked at. How could Heaven shut down such an imaginative mind in the creation of their biggest project yet?
To say you were devastated when you heard about his fall would be an understatement. You mourned the loss of your friend, knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and thinking it wasn't fair to him to receive such punishment just because he cared for the future of humanity.
Thousands of years later, you overhear the plan for Extermination of Hell kind. You didn't mean to walk by, yet here you were, under the direct eye of the Head Seraphims about to be downcast for something you had no control over—just like Lucifer.
“You're all self-entitled pricks! You think you can do whatever you want just because it doesn't follow what you define as good!”
You get a few good arguments before being cast downwards, leaving you in bad shape in a random alley with no wings and no means of escape. That is of course, until destiny seems to be on your side and Lucifer finds you, completely perplexed to see you here at all.
After getting treated, you tell him about the Extermination so he and Hell can prepare. The conversation of you getting cast down by Heaven gets glossed over, but he can feel the fury building up inside him. You were always doing things by the book—how could they do this to you?
Once the slaughter is over, Lucifer gets a meeting with Heaven and secures protection for both his daughter Charlie and you, to which they begrudgingly agree to keep him outta their hair. You can't help but feel touched by this gesture.
He's also quick to offer you a room to stay in, but you compromise by living in a seperate building from him and Charlie so you aren't a bother even though he says you aren't. In fact, ever since Lilith left, he's had to take care of his young daughter all by himself, so he's more than happy when you offer to help.
It doesn't take long for your feelings to start coming into the surface from all those years ago, and you gotta push them away because he's both married and has a child to look after! Besides, why would the King of Hell ever look in your direction?
Eventually though, he brings up the question with nothing but sweaty palms and a customized rubber ducky that says ‘I love you’ whenever you squeeze it. You blush furiously, but can't help but bring up your concerns, not wanting to replace Lilith in his heart. He looks into your eyes and says that he hasn't been as happy as he is now in the past thousand years.
Cue baby Charlie walking in on everything, and she just smiles and goes innocently. “Daddy! Is (y/n) staying home with us now?”
You two can only chuckle at the cuteness of it and you immediately go to hug her. You couldn't believe that you were blessed with such a wonderful family.
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 2 months
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Family Of Four
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: none
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Being a young mother of two small children, one of whom is 3 months and the other 4 years old, is something no one could have prepared you for. You knew from the beginning that it wasn't going to be easy since Lando couldn't always be there to help you with the two of them, but sometimes you thought you were gonna lose your mind.
Phoebe was 4 years old, the spitting image of her dad. She was a little lady with big brown curls and sassy attitude who always stole everyone's hearts with her personality. On the other hand, Kian was only 3 months old, usually a very calm little baby boy who was a perfect mix of both you and Lando.
This was one of those days when you wanted to jump out of your own skin. One of those days when you didn't know what to do first, who to take first, who to comfort first. Both kids were screaming crying, Phoebe because she was hungry, even though she refused to eat 20 minutes before when you asked her, and Kian because he had stomach cramps that were very painful.
While Phoebe was throwing a tantrum and rolling on the floor screaming, Kian was crying so hard that you almost cried too because you didn't know how to help him anymore. You were going crazy while waiting for Lando to come back from work duties.
Days like this didn't happen often, but when they did, you felt like you were failing as a mother. Deep down you knew it wasn't true, but you just couldn't understand how a pregnant Nara Smith manages to literally produce cereal for her children's breakfast, yet here you are, not even able to calm your two children by yourself.
"It's okay, it's okay baby boy, please stop crying" You despaired, talking softly, rubbing Kian's back and walking around the living room with him. "Phoebe, get up from the floor right now!"
"I'm hungry!"
"Can you just wait 5 more minutes until your brother stops crying? Can you please do that for me?"
"No, I want daddy!" She yelled which startled Kian and made him cry even more.
"Oh my God.." You were on the verge of a breakdown. "Shh, baby, it's okay..shh"
Thankfully, minutes after she screamed for her dad, Lando walked through the front door.
"Guys, what is going on here?" He asked taking off his jacket looking at the chaotic scene in front of him.
"Please, do something" Your voice trembled, the tears already formed in your eyes threatening to spill out.
"Baby, what's going on? Are you okay?" He approached you putting one hand on your cheek and the other on Kian's back.
"No" You shook your head. "I'm going to the bedroom to try to calm him down. Phoebe's hungry because she didn't wanna eat 20 minutes ago when I begged her to. Now she's screaming for no reason."
"I'll deal with her, don't worry, okay?" He said kissing your cheek before you left with Kian in your arms.
"Pheebs, get up, c'mon" Lando said gently pulling her up by her arm.
"Daddy" She cried with no tears.
"What's wrong? Why are you crying?" He asked lifting her up in his arms and brushing her hair from her sweat-sticky face.
"I'm hungry"
"Okay, but have you ever been hungry for more than 10 minutes before you got to eat?" He asked walking to the kitchen with her and sitting her down on the kitchen island. "Have you?"
"No.." She said quietly sniffling and looking down at her hands.
"Baby, look at me" Lando gently lifts her chin up with his finger "You're a big sister now, and big sisters don't act this way. If your brother is crying because he's in pain, you need to be patient. No one's gonna forget about you, but you need to help mommy, and you screaming while she's trying to calm him down is not helpful at all."
Phoebe stayed silent looking at Lando with sad puppy eyes before asking "Do you l-love baby brother more than me?"
Pheebs was daddy's girl from day one. She was his first one. His everything and more. She had him completely wrapped around her finger and he knew it, but he loved it.
Since he was away a lot, he couldn't spend as much time as he wanted with his kids so he was always very lenient with them. Especially with Pheebs because she was older. She always got what she wanted and Lando was always very happy to fulfill her every wish.
He could never say no to her. How could he say no when every time when Lando goes on a race, she calls him on a video call to say "I miss you daddy, you're going to win tomorrow because you're the best" It makes his heart melt every time.
"Baby, mommy and I love you and your brother equally. There's no way we love one more than the other, okay?" He said cupping her cheeks. "But you're always gonna be daddy's little girl, yeah? My tiny princess" He starts tickling her showering kisses all over her face making her giggle.
"Will my princess eat now so we can go get ready for bed?" He asked to which she quickly agreed nodding her head.
After dinner, Lando helped her brush her teeth, put on her pyjamas and put her to bed.
"I love you, daddy." She stretched out her arms for one more hug before Lando got up and left her room.
"I love you too, darling. Good night."
Once he was done with Phoebe, he went to see where you and Kian were.
"Y/n?" He said quietly entering your bedroom with dimmed lights. You were lying on the bed next to Kian who was finally asleep. "Are you sleeping?"
"No" You answered quietly as he sat down next the two of you.
"Baby, what's wrong?" He asked noticing that your eyes were red from crying. "Come here" Opening his arms, he pulls you to himself.
"I'm so tired, Lan" You sob quietly into his chest. It was all just too much for you. You didn't have any time for yourself. You were with two little kids 24/7 and you just felt like you were losing yourself. "I feel like I'm losing my mind. He's still having cramps and it hurts me to see him in pain. And I feel like I'm neglecting Phoebe like I'm not giving her enough attention since he came and-"
"Y/n, baby, stop. I don't wanna hear you being hard on yourself. They're kids, they have their good and bad days. It doesn't mean we're failing as parents if they're having a bad day. You're the best, most loving and caring mom ever, but you need a break. Let me please find someone to help you out with them when I'm not home."
"No, I can take care of my own kids when you're not home" You were being stubborn. You were refusing to get a nanny even though you knew you needed it when Lando was away because both your and Lando's parents were not living in Monaco so they couldn't be there when you needed them.
"I know you can, but I need you to be okay above everything else." He says leaving a kiss on your head that was still resting on his chest.
"I know, I'm sorry, it's been such a hard day and I missed you so much"
"Shh, I've got you, baby."
Later that night, when both kids were fast asleep, Lando and you finally had some time for yourselves. Both of you were in the living room on the couch in front of the TV. You were half asleep with your head in Lando's lap as he played with your hair and watched some TV show.
He smiled softly when he noticed you fell asleep. He didn't want to disturb you, but he wanted to cuddle you so he pulled you up closer to him. You laid your head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead whispering how much he loves you and how much he's proud of you.
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Mothers Night Out
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Warnings: SMUT, oral, lactation, toxic! rafe, car sex, penetrative sex, and breeding.
Ring Ring Ring
The sound comes blaring as you're face down in your pillow, head pounding a mile a minute. The ringtone continues to jingle you answer and put the phone to your ear.
“Hell-” You try to answer before the voice on the other line starts, “Why the hell am I over here watching our children while you're running around as if you don’t have any responsibilities in life?” The voice quickly cut in as you rolled your eyes.
“Rafe, it was one night out, what are you on about-” You were cut off again, the man on the other line not wanting to hear that. “NO, you told me that you were going to hang out with friends; NOT those fucking pogues and you know that”.
“Those pogues are my friends.” You start to say before he cuts you off, in his frustration.
“I don’t care. Get ready” he snapped. Before you could say anything else, the dial tone reached your ears as you sat up in the bed you were lying in, which happened to be John B's.
Ever since you became a mother you were dedicated to taking care of your children trying to be the best mother you could be for your little girls. You sacrificed everything for them, including your well-being. Your friends thought it would be a good idea to hang out last night since you have yet to have the time to genuinely hang out just as a group. Last night was fun. You all piled in John B’s living room playing drinking games and catching up on everything social that you might have missed.
“How are you doing in here sleepy head?” JJ leaned up against the door with a smile. “My head is killing me” You respond, messaging your head. “Well sorry to break it to you but your baby daddy is outside, so your hell awaits you”
“Ha ha, you are so funny.”
Gathering your things you throw a pillow at his head which he dodges with a smirk. “Kiss the girls for me!” He yells behind you as you make your way towards John B's door. “Will do!”
Wanting to say goodbye to everyone else you were met with disappointment as they were all still asleep. Walking out the door you are met with the father of your children leaning against a black truck with your door already opened.
Climbing into the truck, you close the door with Rafe following behind you. Looking behind you, you expect to see your baby girls in the back but you just met with their car seats. Looking to Rafe you ask. “Where are Whisper and Clover?” Looking at you he shakes his head.
“They're with Rose since you want to act like they don't exist.” “Rafe please don’t do this for the past six months I have been held up in the house” you breathe in, tears threatening to fall. “Taking care of our girls day in and day out so please don't act like me hanging out with my friends for one night makes me a terrible mother”
Regret flickers across his face as he reaches across the armrest and he takes your face in his hands, expression softening. “I didn't know you felt this lovely, I’m sorry I treated you that way. I was just upset because I thought you didn't want to spend any time with me.”
Moving his hands under your skirt to your thighs you gasp as his fingers barely graze your skin. His touch sends shivers down your spine and Rafe notices this with a smirk on his face. “Have I been neglecting you, baby?” He teases.
Pulling your legs apart, his tongue runs along your inner thighs while your breath starts to get shallow, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “Please Rafe” You gasp as he continues sticking his tongue out it quickly dips into your folds, your head hitting the car window. His tongue moves at a regular pace while you feel your skin getting inflamed with the pleasure that you are receiving from your core.
Moving his head from side to side he groans as he pulls your hips impossibly closer to his face. “C'mon baby give it all to me.” “Ohhh fuck.” you groan, your body trembling with desire, as he pulls his head closer in between your legs your stomach starts to form a knot.
“Please- please don't stop” you begged, Rafe moaning into your pussy as you started to shake with your heels digging into his back. “I’m cumming, fuck!’ Crying out your back is arched as your white spot starts to blur your vision. Waves of pleasure begin to wash over you through your climax.
“Get in my lap lovely” Rafe murmurs. Blinded by the orgasm you just had you let him guide you into his lap, with his pants unzipped and his length hard as you feel it nudge your walls as you place your hand on your shoulders.
Bending his head he latches his mouth to your nipple gripping your hips as the sweet taste of your nectar fills his mouth greedily taking it in as he moves his cock inside of you as you slowly move back and forth on his lap.
Detaching his lips he attaches his mouth to yours and as you inhale the slight sweet taste of your milk you take his tongue in your mouth. His hips match your rhythm with the car moving side to side due to the impact of Rafe's thrust, each one bringing us closer to the edge.
“You are perfectly lovely please make me cum, inside of you let me give you another baby please!” he begs, tightening his hold on your hips. “Give me another daddy cum deep inside of me!” Gasping for breath, you wrap your arms around his neck burying your head in his shoulder. your orgasm splashing between the two of you, as Rafe’s cum fills you up.
With your mind in its dizzy state, Rafe guides you back to your seat buckling your seatbelt and finally pulling out of the chateau.
*Ding* The notification sound draws you to your phone and your face turns red with the message you read as Rafe busts out with laughter after reading the message on your phone.
JJ🦾:”I hope you know WE all saw that…“
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spiralingsights · 1 year
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lmao i LOVE being unable to say anything ever because it gets me and my fiance in trouble <3 <3 <3 <3 it would have been SO much easier for me to have moved in with my grandma rather than MORE volatile people :/
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star-sim · 3 months
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boy's night ☆ riki nishimura
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☆ summary: riki had no game, no rizz, which was why he employed the help of his six friends to text you. warning: having seven boys on the phone trying to text a girl does not give good results! ☆ genre: fluff, all enhypen members make an appearance, boys being boys, very stupid, it's getting rizzy in here but clearly i have negative game ☆ warning(s)? no just silliness :3 ☆ word count: 1.7k words
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"Oh my god, she texted me!" was the sentence that completely destroyed Jake Sim's house.
Tonight, Riki was having a sleepover at Jake's house. It was supposed to be a chill night, a night in which Riki could bask in his friends' presence before they went off to college again.
There were many perks to being the youngest in his friend group. It seemed like Heeseung, Jay, and Jake forever saw him as their baby, after all, when they all met as children, Riki was a snotty little four year-old, constantly tattling on the older boys. Regardless, it was nearly impossible for them to not fuss over him, constantly asking if he ate yet or if he needed help. Sunghoon teased the ever-living shit out of Riki, sure, but the older boy never hesitated to take Riki's side whenever there was an argument. Sunoo and Jungwon were closest to Riki in age, but that didn't stop them from watching over him closely, like mother cats stalking their cubs.
Though, there was one thing that Riki had to admit that he hated about being the youngest: he was the most inexperienced.
Whenever his friends got their 'firsts,' he was always too young to care. It seemed like all his friends got to experience their first crushes and heartbreaks almost simultaneously, only for them to not be there when Riki had his.
Even when he was now a senior in high school, he had absolutely no idea how to talk to girls.
He'd heard all the stories about Heeseung and his antics at college, all the flirting tips that Jake liked to give out to Sunghoon and Jay, and all the crazed texts that Sunoo and Jungwon sent as they went through relationships.
Even so, Riki had never experienced teenage love for himself.
Enter: You.
You were the cute girl that sat in front of him in his Macroeconomics class. If it wasn't for the fact that Riki absolutely hated Macro, he would blame the fact that you were just so pretty that he couldn't bring himself to focus on the lecture about the New York Stock Exchange.
Initially, Riki had no intention of pursuing you.
You were cute, obviously, but hearing you talk to your partner in class was enough for him. Plus, it wasn't like Riki had any experience— even if he wanted to talk to you, he had no idea how to!
Except, thanks to his nosy friends, your name had been discussed what felt like a million times by the end of the week.
"So... [Name], eh?" was the first thing Sunghoon said as Riki's camera turned on during their weekly weekend FaceTime calls.
"This is so exciting, Riki," Heeseung said as he joined the call.
"Wait, how do you know her again?" Sunoo's voice cut in. "Sorry, my Wi-Fi is bad. You said you know her from Macro?"
With a little more prying, his friends managed to get a middle-school level confession out of Riki.
"I-I just think she's really pretty, and like, she's really smart," Riki huffed, "I don't think she likes me like that— I've never even spoken to her! Like, I can't talk to women, I straight up am a mess and the other day—oh my god— she looked at me and I think I almost passed out. What do I do? I actually cannot do thi—
".... But you think she's pretty, right?"
And that's how Riki managed to get your phone number. With the help of his friends (that felt more like them feeding into his delusions), he worked up the courage to stutter out a simple question.
And when you smiled, nodding enthusiastically as you typed your contact into his phone, Riki felt his soul leave his body.
So, it wasn’t hard to imagine the havoc that engulfed Jake Sim's house (the place of the sleepover) as Riki's phone pinged, your contact name showing up.
It was already late at night, so the boys were raiding Jake's pantry to get midnight snacks. 
The moment that Riki announced that you had just, in fact, texted him first, everyone stopped in their tracks.
"Oh shit!" Jay shouted as he jumped over Jake's sofa, bowl of cereal still in hand.
The sound of crashing as Heeseung knocked over the ramen cups, as well as cutlery dropping abruptly and cabinets slamming filled the house.
"Oi, don't mess up my kitchen!" Jake yelled as his feet pounded against his stairs, scrambling so fast that he practically glided downstairs. After Jungwon spilled milk on his shirt, he was half-way through putting on a new shirt as he clambered down.
"What did she—" Sunoo pushed Jay out of the way, knocking the older boy over as he plopped down next to Riki on the living room carpet and peeked over his shoulder— "What did she say?!"
Within seconds, all six of his friends were huddled around Riki, pushing each other out of the way to catch a glimpse of what you said.
"Move your fatass head!"
"I can't see!"
As his friends argued, Riki stared at his phone, chewing on his bottom lip. His heart was pounding in his chest. He only saw the notification, and didn't see what you said yet.
What if you said something crazy, like "I just found out about that one time in first grade when you peed yourself at the playground" even though Riki and all his friends agreed to never speak of that incident again?! Or, what if you confessed your everlasting love for him in a long paragraph?
His head was spinning.
"Wait, did you open the message yet?!" Jungwon abruptly yelled into Riki's ear.
"No..." Riki answered slowly, watching the way all of his friends' once tense faces soften with relief.
"Oh my god," Jake sighed in relief.
"Phhhhheeewww!" Heeseung said dramatically.
"Why?" Riki frowned. "What's wrong with opening the message?"
"[Name] can see if you read her message if you open it," Sunghoon said matter-of-factly. 
"Why is that a bad thing?"
All of his friends groaned.
They taught him a trick: swipe just enough so that he could see the message, but not enough that the system marks it as read.
Hey, was all you said, much to Riki's relief.
"What do I say?" Riki asked, clutching his phone. His eyes flickered to his friends as he sucked his bottom lip under his teeth pensively. "How do I respond to this?"
"Just say 'hey' back!" Jay blurted.
"No!" Heeseung shook his head profusely. "Anything but that!"
"Why not? You want him to say haiiii instead?" Sunghoon nudged the older boy.
"No, no, no!" Jungwon reached across to smack Sunghoon's knee. "All of you are wrong."
Jungwon turned to Riki. "Just respond with an emoji."
They all groaned loudly.
"Okay, anything but a goddamn emoji!"
Riki ended up typing out a simple hey in response. He had to make Sunoo press send for him, squeezing his eyes shut. Riki immediately shut his phone off, placing it face down.
"I don't want to see if she responds or not!" Riki moaned. 
Within a minute or two, his phone pinged again.
"She responded!"
Even though you only asked, How was your day?, the entire house was once again invigorated. The boys shrieked, whooping and hitting Riki's shoulder, so loud that the house probably shook.
"Oh my god, it's happening!"
"Ouuuuu, she wants you, Riki!"
"Everyone shut the fuck up, it's time to lock in, oh my god it's actually happening—"
And just as everyone settled back down, ready to give Riki their mind-blowing advice, his phone dinged again.
[Attachment: 1 photo]. It was a silly picture of you, one of those cute ones that showed your eyes, clearly taken on the spot. 
"OHHHHHHHHHH!"
"Shewantsyousobadohmygo—"
According to Jake, if a girl sends you a picture of herself, no matter how silly or cute it is, she is head over heels for you.
"One message at a time!" Jay yelled over Jake's shoulder as they tried to figure out how to respond. "You need to answer her question first and then respond to the picture!"
"No! Don't respond to the picture!" Sunghoon, who was all the way in the guest bathroom, yelled from behind the bathroom door, his voice both booming and muffled. "She'll think you're weird!"
"I agree," Sunoo said.
"I agree," Jungwon mocked him in a nasally voice, earning a slap to the shoulder. "Just heart the picture!"
But their arguing fell upon deaf ears.
"Riki, what are you doing?!"
Riki was on his own, his heart beating at the tip of his fingers.
I hung out with my friends today and it was fun, how was yours? was his first response. Pressing on the picture, he responded, You look cute.
When Riki glanced over at his friends, they were sprawled across the floor, crying aloud dramatically.
"It's over."
"You're insane."
"Fumbled."
Riki threw a pillow at them. "I didn't fumble— Oh shoot, she's typing!"
The house was once again filled with screaming and crashing as they scampered to Riki's side.
You typed for a few moments. Everyone was at the edge of their seat, simply begging to see how you'd respond. But then, you stopped.
"Good game, guys."
"100% over."
Riki chewed on his thumb, his eyes glued to his phone screen. Did he creep you out? Was it weird for him to say that you looked cute? Did he fuck up?
But then you finally replied.
My day was just filled with homework, very boring, you replied. Maybe if I spent it with you it would have been more fun.
Oh.
My.
God.
Riki's hands shook as he typed back another response, completely ignoring the complete and utter disaster around him. He didn't know what came over him. He wouldn't say any of the things that he typed out loud, let alone to your face. It was like he was possessed by some spirit that gave him the courage to type. Without even noticing it, his heart was palpitating in his chest, his entire face, neck, and ears covered in a red shade.
I'm free tomorrow, he typed. 
"RIKI WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU—"
Okay, you simply responded. 12PM. The Block. Let's have fun.
"D-Did she just ask you out?"
Riki glanced at this phone, then at his friends, who stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers and their jaws dropped to the floor, then back at his phone. He blinked. "Yeah."
"Yes?!"
Riki blinked again. "Yeah."
.
.
.
And then it hit him.
"Oh my god, [Name] asked me out...!"
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muchosbesitos · 2 months
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congratulations
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i bet on losing dogs (part two) series masterlist
pairing: college miguel o’hara x fem reader
contents: one year age gap, angst (?), smut, unprotected sex, doggy, and mentions of masturbation (m) pls lmk if i missed anything 🥸
synopsis: after going through a toxic cycle with his ex girlfriend, miguel learns that maybe he does deserve some type of love in his life.
author’s note: DADDY’S HOMEEE 🗣️ anyways so i sorta based this off mac miller’s song ‘congratulations.’ i hope y’all aren’t tired of me posting angst 😪 (i haven’t forgotten ab the poll btw 😭)
word count: 6.3k
The sun don't shine when I'm alone
Miguel was stuck in a cycle of getting together with Dana, spending a couple months of bliss by going on dates with her and exchanging sweet gestures to having a messy breakup over something completely minute. It was toxic, he could admit that much to himself. But he didn't wish to stop it. If his own mother couldn't provide him with love as a child, why should he expect for someone else to love him?
He was an anomaly.
Or at least, that's what he's been led to believe for most of his life. A being that was incapable of being loved properly, of being the odd one out in every situation he was in. From being the tallest one in every single room he stepped in (often having to crouch his head) to being the black sheep of his family.
He stayed with Dana as a method to prove to himself that he was worthy of loved by someone, even if it wasn't expressed in the healthiest of ways. But even he was starting to get at his ending point. "No, I told you about a week ago that robotics was starting back up again and that I'd be busy with the meetings," Miguel explained for what seemed to be the thousandth time this week. Think about the good moments.
"So are those meetings more important than spending time with me now?" Dana's voice was starting to get annoying to his ears, the tiny whine in her voice starting to irritate him. He was sure she was putting up that pout that she thought got him weak at the knees every time he saw it. Really, he only ended up relenting to whatever she said so he couldn't have to see that awful expression on her face for much longer.
"No, they're not. But just try to understand that I have different interests outside of this relationship. We can go out this weekend if you want to do that," he was running out of options to keep her happy. It seemed like the more that he wanted for this relationship to work, the more that she kept slipping away from his fingers. "It's just.. I don't know if I want to be in a relationship where my needs aren't being seen."
She'd be back within the week. Maybe even less if she got up to that point of loneliness. She'd come back over to him with an apologetic smile on her face, expressing how she was willing to forgive him for his past transgression. "It's okay, I know you get busy sometimes but as long as you're willing to change, I want to give this another shot," she'd whisper in his ear, the two making up in an empty janitorial closet. An exchange of empty promises slipping from Dana easily forgotten with the heat of the moment.
He came back home from a robotics meeting that had run late, a small sigh escaping his lips as he stepped inside. There was no one to welcome him as he stepped in through the door, no one to ask him how his day had gone at school today. "How'd your day go?" he asked out loud, pretending that it was his mother's voice instead of his own echoing through the living room. "It was good, thanks for asking," he felt like a fool for talking to himself, rolling his eyes as he set down his bag on the couch.
Or at least, he'd thought he was alone. He heard two voices coming from the basement, his brother's and someone else's. He made his way downstairs, his eyes widening slightly upon the sight. The spaceship model that he'd spent every available second of last week building was now crumbled by a basketball. Gabriel's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, moving closer to Miguel as you stood in the corner.
"Look, we're sorry. The game got out of hand," Gabriel started off but he released that all his attempts to apologize would be futile upon seeing the glare Miguel was shooting in his general direction. "So if you knew, why'd you come downstairs to come play?" Miguel answered back quickly, seeming to have his comebacks ready at any moment. Part of you started to feel guilty, needing to take some kind of responsibility for this as well.
"Hey, it's not his fault. I'm the one who suggested that we play down here," you could sense the tension from a mile away, deciding to ease the situation a bit. Even if that meant you had to take the fall for Gabriel's mistake. You could see the gratitude in Gabriel's expression upon seeing you walk over to them. "So? That doesn't change the fact that my project's still in shambles."
And almost as if on cue, one of the pieces that was barely hanging on fell to the ground with a dramatic thud. You could see the vein on Miguel's forehead get closer and closer to popping the more he looked at the remnants of what was otherwise, a perfect model rocket. The only reason the two of you had even come down here in the first place was because Gabriel wanted to show you the design that his brother was working on.
You'd expressed some interest in wanting to join the stem club at school, but you eventually decided against it after seeing that it was majorly ran by guys. Guys that had a reputation for being overwhelmingly misogynistic. You decided it'd be better not to join and just wait until next year, if you even wanted a chance of getting your ideas being heard out.
Most of them didn't even bother to listen to you outside of school so you didn't delude yourself into thinking that being in a club would magically change that. As much as you really wanted to join.
So you settled for observing from the outside, walking into the robotics classroom when it was deserted to look through the different parts modeled and the different things that were presented. And occasionally, Gabriel would let you sneak a peek at what the club president, Miguel, was up to.
"I can help you with the project if you want," you suggested, hoping that it would detonate the situation. The two brothers had been on thin ice since Miguel managed to get with Dana, leaving you to comfort Gabriel as he cried about the loss of his girlfriend. Miguel's face relaxed instantly, his gaze flickering over to you instead. "I'll do it myself. You'd probably just end up messing it up," his tone came out cold, dismissing the two of you out of the basement.
The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to slice with a blade. You stepped away from the table where the model rocket had once been set up, choosing to go stand by Gabriel instead. You would've figured that was the last of the discussion but you heard Gabriel mumbling underneath his breath as he headed out. Miguel's ears instantly perked up, his teeth gritting against one another. "You have something you wanna say to me?"
Miguel had practically given Gabriel a loaded weapon now. The two of you collectively knew that Gabriel wasn't one to keep his mouth shut. But maybe Miguel just wanted to keep the argument going? You weren't completely sure how this family dynamic worked at all. "Pinche amargado," Gabriel spoke up, a scoff escaping from Miguel's lips. (fucking bitter)
"Amargado porque tu no puedes dejar mis putas cosas en paz." (bitter because you can’t leave my stuff alone)
"Igualito a ti, cabron. Tu con Dana y yo con tus cosas." (just like you. you with dana and i with your stuff)
"Vete a la puta v-"
Their voices rose with each retort that they gave one another, the two almost at a brink of yelling at each other. You looked around to try to create a diversion, opting to just flicker the lights on to see if they'd calm down. You didn't have much hope in your strategy but Miguel fell silent after the lights had been turned off. Two pairs of eyes were directed towards you when you turned the lights back on, both expressing some form of disdain.
"Look, it was my fault for ruining your project so allow me to take some kind of responsibility and help you rebuild it. It's not going to be done on time tomorrow if you do it all by yourself," you spoke up after they both had a couple seconds to calm down, reluctance visible all over Miguel's face. Though, he seemed to be actually considering the possibility now. His brows furrowed as he stayed quiet for a couple seconds, eventually huffing out what sounded like a 'fine.'
"Just call me when you're done here," Gabriel relented as he walked over to the basement door, paying once last glance to you over his shoulder. You nodded to his words, looking back over at Miguel. He was already hunched over his desk, starting to take out the pieces of the rocket that had been affected. Maybe you'd get lucky and he wouldn't continue with his angry rant?
I see your eyes look through my soul
The two of you worked in silence for the most part, a couple mutters escaping from Miguel as he worked on taping the pieces back in their correct order. "Irresponsables," he muttered to himself, gluing one of the small pieces together. He wasn't too keen on having you around, his body turned away from you as he worked. But yet, you also had some kind of urge to help him out after you'd aided in the destruction of his project.
"How'd you get into aerospace?" You decided to break the ice and ask a question, looking up from the piece that you were assembling back together. His expression seemed to lose the original intensity that it once held, his body relaxing in the rolling chair he was in. "I didn't. I pursued robotics at first and then there was this competition to build rockets. I started to learn about them, about the different space missions from the past and eventually my interest grew from there."
You nodded along to his answer, going back to working on the piece you were reconstructing. His gaze travelled over to where you were working, a bit surprised by how well you were doing. He'd expected for you to make an even bigger mess of the situation and excuse it with 'just trying to help.' "Are you into aerospace as well?" You hadn't expected for him to actually engage in the conversation but it was a question that you liked getting asked about. While most of the conversation revolves around aerospace, you couldn't deny that he was fun to talk to.
"If you like it that much, you should join. A couple members apart from myself are graduating this year and a couple chairs are going to open," he noted, handing you a wrench to tighten a bolt. You tightened the bolt, grabbing one of the nuts that scattered through the floor when the wing fell off. "I'll think about it," you told him, though your voice held no conviction towards it. He wouldn't push the topic further but he could see just how excited you were to be working on the project.
So much that you didn't even demand to be credited as one of his partners for the project.
Much as he hated to admit to himself, he found that it was quite nice to spend some time with you. Especially when it came to do something that he enjoyed doing. It was a sharp contrast from his time with Dana, going from having surface level conversations about each other's day. Maybe a relationship shouldn't have to involve so much work? Maybe every conversation didn't have to end in a fight after all.
Instead of trying to fix things over with Dana by following her like a lost puppy, he decided to fix things up with Gabriel. Because a part of him secretly wanted to see you again. The modified rocket ship had gotten a couple compliments from the other members, some of them even claiming that it could go to nationals. He wasn't completely sure if they were sucking up to him for a recommendation, but he knew that you'd appreciate the feedback.
So, he decided he'd stop being so strict with Gabriel and lend his stuff over whenever he asked. To which he got a couple of surprised looks and hesitation at first. The next step in the process was for him to work out an apology. But how does one exactly go about apologizing for stealing a partner? Especially when said person had brought up concerns to feeling inferior in every shape and form to himself? He'd dug himself into a hole he had no idea how to get out of.
Miguel awkwardly stood in front of Gabriel's room as he heard the thud of a couple tools inside, his younger brother being more into mechanics than robotics. He decided to swallow the last bit of pride that he had, stepping inside the threshold. He could sense the surprise seeping out of Gabriel as he sat down next to him, grabbing one of the screwdrivers. The two worked in silence for a while, working in perfect synchrony as they focused on building an engine.
"I'm sorry for what happened with Dana, by the way. I know it's not worth much but I am. I shouldn't have taken your trust for granted and I shouldn't have done that considering how you feel about me," Miguel spoke up after they were getting close to finishing, looking over at Gabriel. He saw a frustrated expression all over his brother's face, something that he wasn't particularly used to seeing. "You know, you keep saying what you shouldn't have done but the fact remains that you still did it. But thank you for that apology, I guess."
Miguel started offering to take the both of you to places, choosing to tag along just to hear your laugh whenever Gabriel would make a joke. Even if he wanted to be the one telling you these jokes. "Hey, what do you call a Drosophila who likes to drink?" he decided to break the silence as he drove you two to the movie theater, looking over at you through their rear view window. "What do you call it?" You decided to indulge in his 'joke,' if his attempt could even classify as that. "A bar fly."
You let out a laugh more so out of how bad it was, your eyes crinkling as you did. The look on Gabriel's face made the laughter escape from your lips much louder. "Can't believe you're actually laughing at those bad jokes," Gabriel muttered, staring at you like you were a creature from outer space. "Shut up before I leave you on the side of the freeway," Miguel called out from the front seat, biting back a smile of his own upon seeing that he'd managed to make you laugh. Maybe it was worth it looking for those corny science jokes last night.
Miguel had quickly forgotten about the void he was trying to fill with Dana, only reminded of it when he saw her leaning against his car. Her glossy lips were wrapped around a lollipop, her brown hair combed back into a bob. All he could think about was all the dirt she was probably getting on his car now. "You haven't answered any of my calls," Dana whined as he approached, getting off his car to go over to him. "For good reason," Miguel grumbled, opening his car door to toss his backpack inside. He could see Dana trying to scramble for some kind of logical answer, a slew of curses thrown his away once she realized what'd he meant.
The cycle was done. They were done this time, for good.
"How come you're not out at those graduation parties and stuff?" Gabriel mused as he took a bite out his burger. "You think he's type of person to get invited to parties?" You decided to tease Miguel a bit, taking some of his fries before dipping them into ranch. No he wasn't. Not that he'd ever admit that to you though. "The scent of weed just irks my nose, man," Miguel responded, a small scoff coming from the younger brother in response.
Empty cans of beer and articles of clothing washed up to the surface of the bay, the sight making you grimace in disgust. But this was where Miguel had decided he wanted to go after graduation. "I'm gonna head to the car, it smells like ass out here," Gabriel told the both of you, tossing the final rock he had in his hand out into the water before walking off.  To be fair, it really did smell like ass. The contamination from the water and the ships around mixed in together, overall just providing an unpleasant scent.
"I'm gonna head back too," you told Miguel, starting to get up from your spot. Before you had the chance to dust yourself off properly, Miguel had stood up and placed a hand on your shoulder. "Just wait a second, please. There's something that I have to ask you," he seemed fidgety, looking everywhere else but you as he talked. You stayed silent, giving him the chance to speak whenever he was comfortable enough to. "Do you want to go out on a date with me?"
He was starting to prepare himself for the upcoming rejection, making a mental list of all the songs he'd add to his breakup playlist later on. He'd probably end up blasting those at full volume in the basement while taking out his anger on a model robot, bracing himself to ignore the yells from Gabriel coming up the stairs. "Yes," the words didn't register in his mind at first, his eyes drifting over to your mouth as he made out the syllables.
Wait, what?
"You're actually being serious?" he had to ask. Had to double check that this wasn't a prank or something that Gabriel had set you up to as some kind of revenge for what he did with Dana. Then again, Gabriel hadn't exactly mentioned anything about you towards him. Not that they talked a lot nowadays, but he figured that Gabriel would've at least expressed some kind of concern if he knew. So.. there was really only one possibility left.
You actually wanted to go out with him.
The time that the two of you spent together that summer was much more than the time you actually spent apart, from going out to exploring different museums to different science conventions. Your main concern had been how Gabriel would take it, not wanting to overstep your boundaries as his best friend. "Be careful, okay?" was all that he said when he saw you walking out of Miguel's room with a borrowed shirt on. Gabriel was more concerned about you than Miguel throughout this exchange.
The transition to when the school year started was difficult, given that the two of you had somewhat conflicting schedules. Despite all this, Miguel was sure to schedule a minimum of two dates for each month. Miguel was determined to put the effort into making this relationship work now that he managed to get with you. He'd make sure to pull all nighters the day before he had a date with you to get his assignments done on time, wanting nothing more but dedicate the time designated to you fully.
You didn't know who else to call when college decisions went out, choosing instead to call Miguel. You knew he'd been swamped with lectures and research essays as of late, but you didn't want to share this moment with anyone else. Not when he was the one to calm you down with each mini panic attack you got after hitting the 'submit' button on your applications. "Hola princesa, what's up?" his voice drawled out like the sweetest honey, your breathing slowly starting to calm down.
"Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you too much but I was wondering if you could come over. College decisions came out and I can't get myself to click through the messages alone," you told him, your leg bouncing as you awaited for an answer. "I'll be right over. I'll bring some burritos," he answered, the line clicking to an end shortly after. You waited with anticipation for the doorbell to ring, practically jumping off your bed when you did hear it thirty minutes later.
"Just open it, I'm sure they accepted you. They'd be dumb not to," he sat down next to you as you scrolled to the last one you had left to open. The one you'd saved as an attempt to keep your hopes up from being too high. You had four acceptances, two from out of state and two in Nueva York. "I can't. What if I just have my hopes up?" you had your face hidden behind your hands, your words coming out muffled. "Even if they did reject you, it's not the end of the world. Just look for yourself."
UC Berkeley had been more of a reach school for you, the other four being your safety nets. Your grades hadn't exactly been up to perfection but you held out the hope that the extracurriculars you got involved with and the volunteer service you did was enough. As well as the robotics credential that Miguel encouraged to go after. You let out a sigh, trying to calm yourself down before clicking on the letter. The words blurred together as you read through it, a bunch of gibberish registering in your brain. Miguel had his hand on your thigh, gently rubbing small circles on it.
The touch was slowly bringing you back to earth, your breathing starting to calm down. You didn't have to say anything, he just knew what you needed before you even had the chance to realize that you even needed it. You directed your attention back to the monitor upon calming down, reading over the letter. "I got in!" you exclaimed as you look over at Miguel, his hands immediately wrapped around you. "I told you so. They'd be stupid not to have you in their school."
They'd even offered you a scholarship! The only downside was that it was in California.
The thought hadn't even registered in your head when you were applying for a spot, the only thought in your head being that of fulfilling what you wanted. You looked over at him, the same look of realization upon him as he saw 'Berkeley, CA' almost taunting him through the screen. The idea of doing long distance wasn't something you were quite fond of, given the fact that it just seemed like a slow way to prolong the fact that the end of the relationship. And yet, you didn't really want to break up with him.
"Would you stay in Nueva York if I asked you to?" Miguel knew he was being selfish by asking this, he knew that he had to let you go and pursue what you wanted to do. But he didn't want to. He wanted you to stick by his side and pursue your dream here. "I would stay if you did. But I think a part of me would also end up resenting you for asking that of me," you responded, your hand tightening its grip slightly around him. It was a gesture meant to comfort him but your words carried more weight than that simple squeeze did.
He knew how much you wanted to go, he'd been there when you filled out the application. From the process of setting your information in the system to reassuring you that you were qualified enough to get in, despite how much his heart ached at the thought of having to be without you. "It was just a hypothetical. I wouldn't ask you to do that for me," he quickly told you, taking a bite from his burrito to busy himself with doing something. Your happiness was much more of a priority than his own.
You were inclined on just leaving without saying goodbye but the thought of him thinking you abandoned him was almost too much for you to handle. You ran over to his house after you'd finished packing, hoping that he hadn't gone back to campus yet. "He's upstairs," Gabriel told you upon taking note of your sweat covered forehead, his nose scrunching up. "Thanks!" you called out as you made your way inside, almost tripping your two feet when you rushed up the stairs.
Baby, you were everything I ever wanted
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Miguel asked you, his lips barely grazing above your earlobe. Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his lips move down to your neck, his lips parting as he kissed the side. "Yeah, I'm sure," you responded after you managed to regain your composure, your head lolling back to give him more access to your neck. He took that invitation eagerly, his lips pressed on every inch of your neck that he could access.
His teeth sunk down just hard enough to leave a mark on your skin, his way of making sure that you'd remember him. At least for the following week that the hickey lasted. He'd settle for that much. The night never progressed from a couple heated kisses exchanged between the two of you, a wanton need keeping your bodies pressed against one another. For a moment, it was as if nothing else in the world really mattered. You were just two people, not college students that would inevitably have to talk about what their future would be.
"I don't think I could ever just be friends with you. It's better if we just end things here," Miguel spoke up in the middle of the movie the two of you were watching, a boring scene from a movie about how robots took over the world. As if you weren't living through that now in the year 2079.
"Yeah, I guess so. Thank you for the time together," The breakup had been amicable, easy. There were no harsh feelings between the two of you, only simple understanding that the relationship wouldn't work out if the two of you dragged this on. However, as friendly as it had been, that didn't stop you from shedding a couple tears when you got home to finish packing. You almost wished he had given you a reason to hate him so that it would replace the sense of yearning you felt at the notion of leaving him behind.
That was supposed to be the end. You'd go on about your life without having to be around Miguel again, Without feeling his beefy arms wrap around you in the mornings as an attempt to keep you in bed for a little longer, or having his lips pressed against your forehead whenever you needed a bit of reassurance. That was until you found yourself in his bed when you came back to Nueva York to celebrate Gabriel’s birthday. It was the only time you allowed yourself to come back.
How Miguel allowed himself to fall into another cycle, he wasn't sure. Maybe because this one wasn't beaming with red flags. Or maybe because this one didn't leave him feeling like an unlovable mess the next day. Despite how many times he told himself that he wouldn't repeat what he'd done with Dana, he still found himself picking you up from every trip at the airport. Then again, this wasn't anything like the situation with Dana. Your relationship with him was healthy, you were good for him.
You'd usually end up at Miguel's apartment rather than your hotel room for most of the nights. The pent up frustration that had accumulated throughout the past year was unleashed on another, the sex all just that much more intense. "Couldn't stop thinking about seeing you again," he whispered against your skin, the words turning you into putty in his grasp. His kisses could follow soon after, his touch almost burning with how much desire he'd pent up. "Oh? And what were you planning on doing when you did see me again?" he would spend all night giving you the answer to that question.
On most occasions, you'd end up with your face buried in a pillow while he fucked you from behind. Your muffled moans would fill up the room, combined with the sound of rustling sheets underneath you as your grip tightened. "I missed you, princesa," he bent down to whisper in your ear, his lips trailing down your shoulder blade. The action in itself was sweet enough, but you couldn't focus on that with the way that his cock was stretching you out. "Missed you too," you barely managed to babble, your voice coming out hoarse.
Your hips rocked back into his, your ass jiggling with every thrust that he made. The grip he had on your hips would tighten, his balls slapping obscenely against your wet cunt. Your walls would clench around his cock, milking him for all the cum that he had in his balls while simultaneously coating his length with every drop of your slick that you could offer. "Fuck, right there!" he could make out a couple words of what you were saying from time to time, but he couldn't help but want to tease you about it. "Yeah, right here?" he mocked, his rhythm never faltering.
You were so drunk off his dick that you didn't realize he was mocking you half the time, simply nodding in response to whatever he told you. "Yeah, right there!" He loved the way your voice rose whenever his finger came down to play with your clit, the way the nub throbbed beneath his fingers for some kind of stimulation. These little breathy moans that you were letting out, the whispers of his name, they'd all remain imprinted in his memory as material whenever he needed some kind of release. That is, until the following year when he would have new material to work off of.
Miguel loved the way you looked whenever you were excited to share something with him or the way your eyes lit up whenever you saw him at the airport waiting for you with a bag from your favorite fast food place. But the way that you looked whenever you unraveled underneath him was something that just simply couldn't be topped. Your legs shook violently as your orgasm approached, your walls tightening all that much more around him before unclenching to coat his cock in your release. His orgasm would follow suit, his cum filling up your cunt up to the brim.
Despite the fact that the two of you were completely able to and sometimes were even encouraged to, the two of you stayed loyal to one another even if this arrangement had no need to. As much as you wanted to try dating someone else, you knew that in the back of your head you'd just try to find Miguel in another person. And that you'd ultimately end up disappointed by the end of the affair. The two of you provided a sense of comfort in one another that wasn't easily replicated by another person. Or at least, you hoped that he felt the same way about you.
And as much as he tried, he couldn't get his hand to simulate the same pleasure that he felt while fucking you. It felt like a cheap replacement if he was being completely honest. His fist couldn't clench around his cock the way that your walls did, pulsing as your cunt milked him for all it could. His spit couldn't compare to the way your slick coated his shaft completely, the loud squelch that bounced off his walls whenever he pulled out. As pathetic as he felt for being looking forward to your yearly appearance, nothing could give him the same satisfaction you did.
You came back to Nueva York with a mission this time around. The office that you'd been working at after getting your degree had expanded throughout most of the east coast, a shiny job opportunity appearing right at your doorstep. You were going to tell Miguel that you planned on staying this time around, that you wanted to rekindle the old feelings you'd both been trying to suppress. You'd even resorted to practicing what you were going to say to him while you were on the airplane instead of clicking on one of the stupid Hallmark movies available on the flight.
Bought a wedding ring, it's in my pocket
You'd practically been bubbling with anticipation for the entire plane ride, different thoughts of how Miguel would react rummaging through your mind. Would he be excited? Would he leave the party to be with you? You felt all the breath leave your lungs as you stepped inside the party hall, your attention immediately going to Miguel. He wasn't wearing something too fancy, a white button down shirt and a pair of black slacks. Even then, you couldn't lie to yourself that he looked like sex on legs.
You set down the small gift bag you'd brought over for Gabriel, a new set of tools you heard him mention he needed on a FaceTime call last week. You made your way over to Miguel, a small smile appearing on your face as a look of recognition flashed across his features. "Hey," you greeted him once you were close, your hand up in a wave. Before he got the chance to say something, a woman came over to the two of you and handed him a drink before remaining by his side.
"Are you one of Miguel's friends from around here?" you asked the woman, given the fact that you hadn't heard any mention of her from Gabriel.
"Uh, no. This is actually my fiancée, Tempest," Miguel spoke up for the first time this night, your eyes widening as you did a double take on the pair standing in front of you. They'd even color coordinated their outfits tonight.
You could've sworn your heart dropped to your chest at the word fiancée. You forced your face to remain neutral despite the conflicting emotions rummaging inside of you. Your gaze flickered over to the woman, her ring finger accentuated with a pretty silver band, an expensive-looking diamond plastered right in the middle of it. Your throat constricted the longer that you stared at the ring, the sight eventually blurring into nothing until you forced yourself to look away when she pulled her hand back.
Your mind began to swarm with different thoughts, wondering when exactly did Miguel find the time to get engaged. Last year when you saw him, he hadn't even mentioned having any sort of commitment towards anyone. It was funny, thinking about it now. He'd taken you to the airport, his head tilting down to give you a small kiss on the cheek as he bid you goodbye. "I'll see you next year," he told you before you went through airport security. Now you wish you would've went back to his apartment instead of back home.
"Nice to meet you," you forced the words to roll out of your mouth, an unnatural smile taking place on your face. The type of smile that had your cheeks hurting from how hard you were forcing it. you shook her hand with just a little too much force before reminding yourself that it wasn't exactly her fault. If anything, this situation had been your fault. your fault for being so used to this comfortability, of the knowledge that he'd always be here waiting for you.
You'd gotten so used to coming to Nueva York to find Miguel at your beck and call that it didn't even cross your mind he would find someone. Someone who prioritized his happiness as much as he prioritized theirs. "Nice to meet you as well, Miggy here's told me a lot about you," she responded with a warm smile, unbeknownst to the internal struggles that rummaged through your head. Miggy? He'd gotten so pissed off when you called him that, but now he was acting casual about it?
"You mentioned that there was something you wanted to talk to me about?" Miguel's voice broke you out of your train of thought, making you realize you'd just been standing there awkwardly for a couple seconds. You looked away, the sight of him too painful to bear. Just the fact that the woman's arm was wrapped around his, the intimacy of the situation reminding you of what you'd never have again.
"Never mind, just forget it. I hope the two of you have a good time at this party. Congratulations once more," despite the fact that you had a million questions regarding the situation, you decided that it would be better not to ask them. At the end of the day, a couple questions wouldn't change the fact that he was still engaged. You forced yourself to remain polite before excusing yourself to go to the drinks table. You really needed to get fucked up right now.
You felt pathetic as you stood alone in the corner of the room, your fingers gripping the glass of beer as if it was your lifeline. All you could do was look out into the people smiling and having fun, a part of you wishing that it would be you instead. You tried your hardest to pretend when Gabriel came around, trying to dance with you, but the ploy fell through as soon as he dragged you to the dance floor. Your eyes met Miguel's for the first time that night, a flash of concern across his features after seeing your attempts to hide your pain.
But maybe, if you would've looked hard enough, you would've been able to see the same sense of longing lingering behind his eyes.
tag list 🫶🏼: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @pxtched @nympholove @ifiwasaguybrickedup @yournextbimbogf @nixinluv02 @lizaistewdelulu @swiftiegirliepop
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teyamsatan · 1 year
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Okay imagine this. Neteyam and reader having a moment and get interrupted my tuk. Of course her being little doesn't know what she saw. Until its dinner time and she brings it up . Out loud ....infront of the entire clan.
i would actually die if this happened to me ngl
enjoy anonnie x
wc: 500 words
Na'vi words used: yawne - beloved, prrnen - baby, sa'nok - mother, tskmuke - sister
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"Baby, you have to keep it down, people are going to hear you."
"Let them hear, yawne. What's wrong with everyone hearing how good you fuck me every night?"
Famous last words.
Suffice it to say you were mortified. It's not everyday your baby sister... or Neteyam's baby sister, in fact, but at this point, she might as well be yours... walks in on you... doing things... things that no child should ever see, things that no adult should ever have to explain to a child, things that were so beyond what you could reasonably justify. To be fair, though, the flap of the tent was closed, and it was the middle of the night, and you were making noises that pretty much every other human being over the age of like 15 would be able to gauge for what they were and keep a respectable distance. But Tuk... sweet Tuk, innocent Tuk, the-cutest-pie-to-ever-live Tuk, she was attracted by the noises that she thought were indicative of you being in pain. That, in addition to the fact she was rudely awoken by Lo'ak's incessant snores again and felt she would fare better sleeping in your tent, led to this horrifying moment of blind panic and haphazard movements, trying to untangle your limbs and cover your bodies in sheets and blankets.
"Are you alright?"
"Oh, my God, Tuk! What are you doing here, baby?"
"I thought you were hurt, you were screaming!"
Neteyam couldn't help the burst of laughter that escaped him, and neither could you help the scowl that you sent in his direction.
"Oh, baby. I'm alright, I just had a... cramp. Neteyam was on top of me because he was... helping me... massage the spot where it hurt."
The next morning, you forcefully placed a pack of nose strips that you stole from Norm in Lo'ak's hand.
"Here. Use them."
"Why?"
"Because your snoring will bring this family to its knees."
Lo'ak raised an eyebrow at your annoyed disposition.
"You don't even sleep in the same tent as us."
"Yes, but Tuk does. And she can't sleep because of you."
"Yes! I had to sleep in brother and sister's tent last night because of you, Lo'ak!"
You looked at Neteyam from the corner of your eye, praying that the conversation ends there.
"Oh, ma prrnen, did you sleep well at least?" Neytiri came close and knelt by her baby's side, patting her head affectionately.
"Not that well, sa'nok. I was worried for tsmuke since I didn't want another cramp to hurt her, she was in a lot of pain when I came in. But whatever Neteyam was doing on top of her seemed to help, so I thought I could help too if she had another cramp."
You groaned, feeling an actual cramp coming when all the heads in the room snapped in your direction, and as soon as Lo'ak and Jake started cackling and Kiri started making gagging noises, you knew you would never hear the end of this.
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norrisleclercf1 · 1 year
Text
It’s Too Early
Pairing: Charles x Pregnant!Reader
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Tough pregnancy, premature birth, PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome), IVF mentioned, angst, fluff at the end
Synopsis: Being pregnant hasn’t been easy, especially when Charles is away for the season and can’t be with you 24/7 like he wants to be. So what happens when he finds out you went into labor from a reporter? Chaos, utter chaos
A/N: Wrote this morning and I picked PCOS because that's something I suffer with all the time, and felt the need to write a fic about now, everyone's experience with PCOS and the topics discussed in this are different, I did research and put my own hardships and feelings in this, I hope everyone reads with an open mind and enjoys this but also Dad!Charles who could give up Dad!Charles
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Charles would kill for you; he really would. And right now, he wanted nothing more than to kill the FIA, who would refuse to let him sit out this season to be with you, his pregnant wife.
Finding out you were pregnant was the happiest day of his life, but soon it turned...not a nightmare, but a living hell. You were classified as a high-risk pregnancy due to polycystic ovarian syndrome, something you let Charles know when you first started dating.
He was there through the painful periods, the cramps that left you defenseless and laying in bed all day, to the doctor visits and the mood swings. Through it all, he was still with you and loved you more and more each day.
When you both married and settled down a bit more, the conversation of becoming pregnant came up. Charles knew the risks and had done research before bringing it up with you; he even explored other ways of having children. But you told him you wanted to try naturally and go from there before discussing different ways and seeing what happens.
After 3 years of trying and doing everything, even trying IVF, that damn stick showed that fucking plus sign. You sat in the bathroom for hours just staring at the positive test, and that's precisely how Charles found you when he came home. On the bathroom floor, staring at the test.
He can still feel the tile on his skin as he hugs and kisses you, calming your fears away from the worst thoughts in your head.
It hasn't been an easy pregnancy, from cramps to horrible morning sickness, to the doctors worried you might give birth way too early, even being put on bedrest for the rest of the pregnancy due to worries of preeclampsia. Charles fought hard with the FIA, saying he needed to be with you, but they refused to listen and told him he needed to race. You talked him off the ledge as he called to quit and stay home.
"Charles stop; this is ridiculous. You love racing; you aren't quitting because of me." You groaned, going in circles with your mess of a husband.
"No! What's ridiculous is that the FIA won't even see why my wife has a high-risk pregnancy and that I'm needed home, not driving in goddamn circles!" He snaps, slamming his phone down and pulling his hair.
"Char, breath." You whisper from the bed, in agony, simply because you can't get up and comfort your husband.
Charles, almost sensing your dilemma moves from the end of the bed to laying down next to you, placing his head on your chest, careful of your swollen breasts, knowing how much they've been hurting lately. No words are said as fingers run through his hair to calm him down and stop him from making a huge mistake.
"Charles, I'll have your mother here with me. Me and the baby are going to be okay. Listen, if anything changes, I will call you immediately. You can't miss this; you have a real chance this year and must show the world that Charles Leclerc will be a World Champion." Your words convince him as he lets off that familiar defeated sigh of his, making your smile grow at this.
"Immediately. Do you understand? I don't care if it's stupid like your back itches you call me." He bargains, making you laugh and nod in agreement.
Pascale has been staying with you for only a month, and you finally reached the safe zone, where if you did go into labor, it wouldn't be so dangerous for you or the baby. It was race day, and Charles was in Silverstone, needing to finish P2 or higher to challenge Max for the title.
It was a typical day as Pascale fixed you a light snack as you weren't feeling well, your lower back was hurting, and it felt like your pelvis had its own heartbeat. You didn't think much of it as it was a hot day in Monte Carlo, and you had read in books that it was customary to feel this, so you didn't say anything to Pascale to not worry her. The race was halfway through when the first real cramp startled you to the point you dropped your cup; thankfully, it was rubber, so it didn't break.
"Y/n? Honey, what's wrong?" Pascale was right there in an instant picking up the cup, looking over you.
"Just...a cramp, it's nothing." You mummer rubbing your stomach but flinch from how much it hurts to touch it.
"Y/n, when did this start?" Pascale asks calmly, knowing it was wise to keep you calm and not start to freak out because you might be in early labor.
"Last night, but it's picked up this morning. It's nothing, Pascale, honestly, just the baby moving." You try to reason, not wanting to jump straight to labor.
"Y/n, I'm calling for an ambulance, okay? I think you might be in early labor, and with you being on bed rest, they need to help me, alright." She mummers pushing your hair back, trying everything to keep you calm.
"Okay, okay." You repeat as the cramp passes, and you hear her on the phone telling them everything as you force yourself to pay attention to the race and not to the growing pit in your stomach that you might be in labor.
They get here fast as you breathe through another cramp. Tears start to flutter down your cheeks, the realization of you possibly in labor while Charles isn't here, but in the UK. They ask you question after question and share a look, a look that sets you off.
"No! No! I'm not in labor, okay? I'm just having some cramps, which is normal; I have PCOS; okay, nope, I'm not." You argue as the medics alert the hospital to your condition.
"Mrs. Leclerc, I understand that you are only 29 weeks and you're scared, but right now, you are in early labor, and we need to get you to the hospital as soon as we can, okay?" The friendly medic tries to reason with you, but you refuse to see reason.
"I'm sorry, but no. Charles isn't here; he should be here; I can't do this alone. I'm sorry, but I'm not going anywhere." You argue as Pascale packs your bags and looks over at you.
"Y/n, I know you are scared, but Charles isn't here right now, but he will be okay. I'll call him when the race is over and let him know immediately what's going on. But, please, if you wait, it'll be worse for you and the baby." She can reason with you, finally getting you to the hospital as you try hard to stay calm and not make things worse.
But of course, Pascale could never make the phone call as everyone was too busy keeping you calm.
Charles was on top of the world. He had won Silverstone and was only 4 points behind Max now. Sticky with champagne, he checks his phone, looking for the standard text from you, but not seeing a text from you, he hits dial, calling you. But, you don't pick up, making him call you again, yet again, you don't pick up.
He reasons you must be asleep, knowing you had been super tired lately, and his mother said everything was fine. You're eating normally and just sleeping or reading. He moves and takes a picture of the trophy, telling you he won it for you and the baby and he couldn't wait to get back home to you both. Sadly, he's pulled away from his phone to go do media even though he wants to head to the airport and go home, but he needs to do this first.
Only 4 more hours before heading to the plane, then another 5 to 6 hours before he's back home to you.
He makes it through all 5 interviews before coming to the last one, Pierre on his right and Carlos on his left as they all give their final interviews.
"Charles, amazing race. I have to say that it was fabulous to see you win this and to have your teammate and your childhood best friend up there. It must've been something." The reporter gushes, making Charles smile at how genuine the reporter is.
"Yes, um, having Carlos and Pierre be there next to me was something. I mean, the Red Bulls put up one hell of a fight, but we know not to get too comfortable and that we really need to start pushing it more and more each day so we can close the gap and pull in front of them." Charles smiles.
"Yes, this must be a wonderful day with you; with what winning Silverstone and your wife going into labor, you must be just on top of the world." Charles freezes, hearing the words come out of the reporter's mouth and let's put a nervous laugh.
"I'm sorry? My wife isn't in labor," he argues, starting to fidget and lick his lips.
''Really? Reports are that she went into labor at the start of lap 23 and has been at the hospital, your mother." Having cut the camera, realizing that Charles honestly had no idea.
"Nope, she's not, okay, she's not in labor. She would've called." he snaps, hands fumbling for his phone, trying to call you again. This time, it goes to voicemail, sending his heart plummeting to his feet.
"Alright, that's enough for today." Pierre voices and grabs Charles leading him away from prying eyes as he keeps calling you repeatedly.
"Charles. Charles, stop!" Pierre yells, snatching the phone away as his friend cries. Fear takes over Charles as he starts to imagine the worst. What if something was seriously wrong, and you went into early labor. You're only 29 weeks. That's 6 months. Yes, the baby would be okay, but would you?
"Come on, let's go to the hotel. Get your stuff, and you and I will fly out and call your mom. Okay, let's go." Pierre reasons, dragging his friend away and to the cars trying to calm down Charles.
'Pierre calls Pascale and puts her on the speaker; thankfully, the woman picks up after 3 rings.
"Why the fuck didn't you call me the moment she went into labor? I wouldn't give a damn if I was still in the car. Why didn't you call!" Charles rips out before Pascale can say anything, and Pierre groans, knowing that if the situation was different, the Ferrari driver's mother would bury his ass in the ground.
"Because Charles, I've been trying to keep her calm. She's freaking out because you're not here, and honestly, honey, I forgot, as I was trying to make sure your wife's blood pressure doesn't get worse; now, get here as fast as you can because she's almost fully dilated and she needs you Charles, and she needs you to be calm and strong for her because right now she's not." Pascale hangs up, leaving the car in a stiff eerie silence.
"Get me to the airport as fast as you can," Charles whispers, making Pierre nod to ensure he'd get there.
"I can't do this, Pascale; nope, I'm sorry, but I can't. It hurts too much, please, make it stop." you cry as your mother-in-law soothes you. She tells you Charles is on the way. But that did nothing to comfort you. It only made you more anxious about the fact that this would happen.
"Y/n, I know you're scared but Charles will be here soon, okay? But you can't stop pushing, okay? All these nurses and doctors are here to help you, ow let them." She urges as you scream out from another contraction.
"I want Charles." You sob, collapsing against the bed from exhaustion. This was too much for you, the pain, Charles, and everyone in the room; you can't do this.
"Baby!" A familiar voice cries out as the door swings open, and Charles runs in. His hair is messy, and he looks so bewildered you could kiss him, but all you can do is scream.
"WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?!" Making Pascale and everyone else jump, Charles just smiles and pushes everyone out of the way to get to your side.
"I'm sorry, I was on a plane, and my phone wasn't working." And lies, not wanting to tell the truth of no one telling him but a reporter that you were in labor.
"You're lucky I'm giving birth right now or so; help me go-" Your words get cut off by another contraction, making you grab Charles's hand and squeeze it so hard he'd thought it'd break.
"Okay, Mrs. Leclerc, we need you to push." the doctor instructs while Pascale slips outside, startled to see half the grid in the hallway.
"Come on, let's give them some privacy." Pascale smiles, wrapping an arm around Pierre as she leads the boys down the hallway.
"I love you," Charles whispers, kissing your forehead, not caring for a minute you are drenched in sweat.
"I love you too, but we're adopting or surrogacy next time." You cry as you get one more contraction, everyone yelling at you to push, and soon your cries are mixed in with smaller ones.
"He's here. He's here." Charles repeats, kissing you all over and making sure you are okay. He wanted to check on his baby, but first, he needed to ensure you were alright.
"It's a boy? We had a little boy." You whimper, leaning into Charles's chest as you cry in relief that everything went as smoothly as possible.
"He's perfect, Y/n, all ten toes and fingers, and god, I love you so much." Charles mummers finally kissing you while the nurse cleans up your son.
"Here you go." the nurse smiles, handing you your son, who cries his little lungs out but soon stops when he's placed on your chest.
"He'll need to go to NICU for just a night so we can go over everything and make sure there are no complications, but after that, he can come down here and stay with you, Momma." the nurse smiles, going back to help make sure your vitals and everything else was good.
'Charles, and you can't help but stare at your little boy while you start to feel that ache and tiredness settle in, but Charles holds you both, his entire world in his arms.
"We need a name," Charles whispers, making you hum in agreement.
"I've got the perfect one. Also, tell Pierre I say thank you for getting you here."
Charles blinks down at you, confused, but you just giggle.
"I can smell his cologne." Making Charles laugh right along with you.
You fell asleep after picking the name, and the nurses follow Charles to the waiting room where everyone is, Pascale the first to see her son.
"Everyone," Charles starts making the others turn their heads, Isa and Carmen gushing at the tiny little baby in Charles's arms.
"Meet Pierre Hervé Jules Leclerc." Charles announces, making everyone laugh as Pierre stands there stunned, looking at his best friend holding his son.
"Really?" Pierre asks, making Charles nod. "Of course, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have gotten here in one piece. Also, Y/n says thank you." Charles smiles but adds, "she could smell your cologne on my clothes." Making everyone laugh at this.
"Can I hold him?" Pascale asks, but Charles shakes his head no.
"Sorry, but he won't be held by anyone but us and the staff for right now; he's got to go to the NICU overnight, and frankly, I want Y/n to get a say who holds him first after us, Mother." Charles smiles, but Pascale just beams, seeing Charles transform before her.
"Say goodbye to all your uncles and aunts, Pierre," Charles whispers, laying him in the trolly as the nurse reassures him that he'll be fine and he can come up and visit if he'd like.
Everyone watches as the Ferrari driver just smiles at his boy and leans down, whispering something to the baby before pulling away and watching the nurses take him a floor up.
"What did you say?" Pierre asks his friend.
"We'd always love and protect him, and he's only allowed to root for Ferrari." He laughs, making Pascale slap her son on the arm, everyone joining in on the laughter, a memory no one would forget.
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barleyo · 21 days
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Daddy's Girl.
Step Dad! Leon Kennedy X F! Reader (smut)
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A/N: Don't like? Don't read! Either way, READ THE TAGS. I'm starting to get pretty weird on this blog, so expect more stuff like this! A girl has to feed her fetishes, so feel free to tag along with me and enjoy what my sick little mind thinks up. Thanks for reading!
Tags: stepcest, step-dad/step-daughter relationship, cream pie, daddy issues, use of "baby girl" and "daddy's girl," daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), swearing, infidelity, p in v, cream pie, unprotected sex, LARGE AGE GAP (legal), 2nd person POV
Word count: 2.1k
As far as your mother was concerned, your father was worth less than the sum of his parts. He was fleeting idea, a mere concept in both of your lives ever since you could remember. Sure, you remembered a few odd Christmases with a surplus of gifts, all tagged "from Daddy," and a few daddy-daughter dates here and there, but that wasn't enough to make up for his true absence. 
It wasn't a surprise when your mom eventually left him, scooping you up with her. Just you and her, and the rare postcard that your sperm-donor decided to ship off once a year or so. It was good enough then when it was just you two finding your way in the world, but it went downhill when your mom found a new boy toy. 
Leon.
He wasn't a bad guy, by any means. Wasn't pushy, didn't make you call him "dad" or try to impose his will onto you, but his presence made the absence of your real father that much more obvious. You tried to ignore him for the most part, letting your mom have her little relationship with him to tide her over. 
But then they got married. Leon became a more permanent fixture. That was no bueno. 
You toughened it out, being cordial with him until you finally hit that mark of independence: sweet, sweet 18! The big one-eight, your ticket to freedom! 
Everything was planned out for your big day. Mom and Leon made a cake, presents were given, and all birthday wishes granted, except for one. What you really wanted, was for your dad to show up for just this one day, just this once, to have him and not just his money. 
You could never get that lucky, though, and that thought was cemented in your head when you found yourself waiting for him outside of your house. The driveway was empty, not even your mom's car was out there, she still had to head off to work. The world couldn't pause for a birthday girl, it seemed.
Stepping back inside to the house, you slammed the door behind you, practically throwing yourself onto the leather couch in the living room. The tears started faster than you could contain them, and quite honestly, you didn't want to contain them. It was your party, damn it, and you would cry if you wanted to!
"You okay, kid? I heard the door-"
Fuck. Him.
Leon's heavy footsteps made their way down the stairs, leading to his place in front of you. "(Y/N), are you crying?"
You sucked back a breath of air, steadying yourself as much as you could before speaking. 
"No, 'm not, just-- go, just leave me alone." You let your face drop into your hands, staining your sleeves with tears.
Leon, being just the right amount of pushy, took a steps next to you a placed his hand on your shoulder. "Can we talk about it? I mean, I probably know what it is, but we could- you could say whatever you need to say." His face cringed a bit at his own words, feeling like he was already fucking this up. "No judgement."
You kept your face covered but obliged, knowing that talking about it, even with Leon, would make you feel a little better.
"My dad isn't here. He's been promising for weeks that he'd show, but he isn't here."
"Oh."
Your step-dad bit his lip trying to figure out how to make you feel better. He knew you weren't exactly fond of him, but he felt a twinge of responsibility.
"Fuck 'em," Leon finally decided on. "He's a liar and you don't need him. So, fuck 'em. Why would you want a deadbeat to bring you down on your special day?" 
"Because, he's my dad," you said, like it was the most obvious thing. He was right, of course, but the absence still hurt you.
"No dad would stand up a sweet girl like you on her birthday. You only turn 18 once. A real dad wouldn't miss a birthday this monumental for anything. What's he worth, if he can't keep to his word?"
"I guess nothing." You sat up straighter, trying to make yourself calm down. "D'ya think it's, like, my fault? Why doesn't he want to see me?"
He suddenly got really serious, making his grip on your shoulder firm.
"Not at all. You are a wonderful girl. Your mom thinks so, and so do I. You are brilliantly smart, kind, responsible, sweet, gorgeous-- you're perfect and if that scumbag can't see that, then he's beyond saving." 
He loosened his grip, letting his hand fall down to your lap, a bit close to the crotch of your jeans. You didn't look down, trying to convince yourself it was an accident, but he didn't move his hand either.
His other hand came up to your face, holding your cheek and to your own surprise, you leaned into his hand. His big, calloused, confronting hand.
Fuck him.
Something snapped in you when he leaned in for a kiss. God, it was wrong, so wrong, but you were so conflicted. Is this what a father's love really felt like? Hell if you knew, this was close enough in your book.
"Hmph-! Leon..." You pulled away from the kiss, wiping at your mouth roughly to get rid of the salvia strings connecting the both of you. "This is wrong, this isn't okay, my mom-"
"Is not here." 
He placed another kiss on your lips, this one chaste and sweet, so unlike the passionate one you shared before. 
"Just you and me. I know your dad isn't here, but I am. Let me make up for him, baby." His whispers pricked goosebumps over your body, lighting a fire deep in you. "Let daddy love you. Can I show you?"
His big hand looked nearly comical resting against the small button of your jeans, pawing desperately at them. So, so, so wrong. So fucked up, so not okay, so....
"Yes," you said breathily. "Okay, I-I want you to show me. Just be careful please, 'cause.." you trailed off a bit, feeling the pop of your pants opening. 
Leon yanked them down, tossing them away quickly. "Fuck, that's good," he said, pressing his tongue flatly on your mound through your panties. 
The fabric slowly grew a wet patch that clung to you, getting sticky. He placed a soft kiss on your clothed clit, then rested his head on your soft thigh.
"Anybody ever touch you here?" he asked, running a finger over your pussy. 
You softly shook your head, mumbling out a 'no.'
"Mm, more for daddy, yeah? Gonna make you feel so good," he said, slipping your panties to the slide. His mouth made quick work, tongue already gliding up and down on your clit. 
Your face was already twisting up in pleasure, eyebrows knitting together tightly.
"That's cute," he blew cool air over your cunt, keeping his eyes on your face. "You like it? My mouth all over you like this?"
"Mhm, please- don't stop. I wanna feel it again." 
You reached your hand out to hold his head, wanting to push it down before bringing your hand back nervously.
"That's right, push my head down if you want. 'M here to make you feel good, so you use me. Just a wet mouth for you today, sweet girl."
You nodded eagerly, running your hands through his blond hair and taking taking firm purchase of a section of it. Your hands greedily pushed his face into your cunt. The feeling of his nose rubbing against your clit while his tongue dug into your tight hole made you feel fuzzy inside.
Leon was so vulgar with his noises; he almost enjoyed it more than you were. Slurp after slurp came from his mouth, accompanied by a moan or two while he tried to get himself off by palming himself through his pants. 
The sight of him was just as good as the feeling of him. You had never been taken care of so thoroughly. Leon was opening a whole new world to you, a world where you could be selfish and take, because your daddy would provide, no questions asked.
"Lemme try somethin', yeah, baby?"
He shook your hand off and spat directly on your clit, spreading the fat glob with his fingers. Tight, fast circles were traced over your bud, back and forth. It felt like hypnosis, the way he reeled your body in closer to an orgasm. 
"Daddy, please, 'm gonna cum," you said, face flushing of all color. "Your mouth, want your mouth," you shot out quickly, already obsessed with the feeling of his hot mouth tonguing you down.
He obliged, of course. How could he turn his princess down? Leon's lips again wrapped around your clit, sucking on the bud like it gave him life. 
You came soon after. You seized and convulsed and the feeling of his eyes taking you in made the waves of pleasure crash down that much harder over your body. 
"If he knew what a sweet fucking pussy you had," Leon said, licking a final stripe over it, "he'd never wanna leave."
"Wha--?"
"I said," Leon pulled away from your pussy, lifting his head to your ear, "that even your dad would wanna be tongue deep in your sweet, tight cunt. But it's all mine, isn't it?"
The sound of his belt unbuckling made you wetter, if that was possible, but it also sent a sense of realization through you.
You had your pussy in your step dad's mouth. And you liked it. And now, you would let him fuck you. And you would love it. 
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"I know you're a virgin, but fuck, baby, you're so tight." His voice was grumbly and strained while he tried to push into you. "Maybe I need to eat you up a little more," he teased.
"No, I need you inside, wanna feel it now." You let yourself go completely. Here you were, whining like a brat while Leon's fat cock stretched you. The pain with sharp, but immediately worth it. He fit inside perfectly, easily hitting your sensitive spots with a few thrusts.
He hissed, feeling you clamp down on his length. "Shh, come on, gotta get used to it baby. Don't want me to cum too quick, do you?"
"Yes, I do," you whined, desperate to know for certain that you were making him feel good too. 
Leon's laugh softly rang in your ears. "No, I wanna make it worth your time. Wish I could take you all night long," he muttered, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. 
He swallowed all of your moans, slipping his tongue into your mouth while he rocked into you. He tried to find a rhythm, but he was too lost in pleasure to be neat about it. 
He'd fuck you nice and orderly another day, but for now? He just wanted to feel you gush around him, and feel your cunt get sloppy while he took you.
Your breathless moans caught his attention. He found the angle that made you get oldest and stuck with it, lifting your hips up with his hands so he could piston into your g-spot.
"Oh my god, right there! That feels-- oh my god."
"I know, baby," he said, thumbs digging into your hipbones. "Feels good f'me too. You're so good for daddy."
Your heart, and cunt, pounded the more he spoke. You were close and you knew it, you just needed him to keep talking you through it. "I am?"
"Yes, baby, you're perfect. Daddy's perfect little princess, taking my cock so good." His cock twitched, so he clenched his jaw, refusing to cum before you did. "You know what good girls get to do?"
"Hmph?" Your face was red and hot, mouth hanging open while he continued to fuck into your spongey walls.
"They cum hard on daddy's cock. Can you do that for me? Cum all on me?" He traced his hand over your cheek, letting his thumb land on your bottom lip while he egged you on.
Your body had never reacted faster, immediately creaming on his length. Your hole milked him, each contraction gripping his length and sucking the cum right out of him. 
Leon let a shaky breath out before pulling out of you, scooping the mixture of your cum in his fingers. He rubbed it between two fingers for a moment and popped it into his mouth, groaning at the taste.
You came down from your own high and looked over at him, feeling guilt pull at your chest.
"Leon."
"Hm?"
"What about mom? She's gonna freak if she ever finds out. Did we fuck up? What's gonna--"
"Hey," he said, shushing you with his finger over your lips. "She's not gonna find out and she doesn't need to know. I might be married to her, and I get why you're stressed, but what we have is different."
He pulled his finger off of your mouth and pressed a kiss to your forehead cheekily. "You're daddy's girl. That makes you special."
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dalliancekay · 2 months
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Aziraphale does NOT need to suffer MORE
Can't believe I have to say this. TW: grief, mourning, death (sorry) I have, since falling into the fandom 6 months ago to escape real life, seen many takes on how Aziraphale needs to suffer in S3 to match Crowley's suffering. Mainly as the counterpart to the moment Crowley thinks he lost Aziraphale as he's looking for him desperately in the burning bookshop.
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Then drinks, we suppose, to dull his pain, waiting for the Armageddon. Also, the way Crowley suffers at the bandstand argument, the 'I Forgive You' moments, which many people find utterly devastating and incredibly heartless from Aziraphale. Not to mention when he doesn't react in the 'right way' to Crowley's confession in the Final 15. And then on top of that, 'abandons' Crowley. Oh and also for, and I quote: "The smug and entitled way Aziraphale went around in S2 assuming Crowley would love and follow him everywhere." And for all this pain that Crowley endured for him, Aziraphale should suffer in S3, to I assume, even out the scores. Some people want to see him lose it, show his emotions, to cry or beg or otherwise show how much he misses Crowley and how very sorry he is for what he's done.
Now for the TW grief content I motioned above. You can skip to the next sentence in bold.
WE ALL SUFFER DIFFERENTLY I was on holiday late September last year, visiting my mum, stepfather and my two younger brothers. We went to a cousin's wedding. It was great. The day after, as I was hanging out reading a book my mum got a call. The kind of call every mother fears. My youngest brother (he was 27) died in an accident. We needed to speak to police and the coroner. She cried and cried. She's still crying. She asks questions. She gets no answers. I did not cry. I talked to the police. I googled a funeral home. I bought my brother his last set of clothes. He lived in a hoodie and torn black jeans. Mum wanted a suit. But he died in the one he bought for the wedding. I texted a lot of people. I bought snacks for the many friends who came to the funeral and wanted to speak to us after. My grief feels like a vice. I am not sad. I do not appear sad. Contrary to what people expect. But I am ANGRY. I am furious. But nobody can see this. I am not fine and I wish no one would ever* ask how I was again. TW/Personal content over. Since I was small (because I am weird like that) I genuinely wondered if, finding myself in danger, I could scream like people in films do. I don't think I could. I cope with hard situations, fear and stress and anxiety by shutting down, sometimes by retreating too, by furiously trying to find a way out. And I think Aziraphale does the same. And that's why I love him so much. And why I feel get him and understand that people sometimes can't tell how much he's actually feeling. I also express love the way Aziraphale does - by organising things for people I love, inviting them places, making plans. When Crowley said you call me for three things (and it's basically any old reason) I felt SO SEEN. This is what I would do with a friend who I know is feeling unmoored, sad, stuck. I'd text them with any old thing. I'd never actually say I love you, how can I help though, I would try to get them to talk, meet me, go somewhere. Aziraphale does not express emotions the same way as Crowley.
But his emotions are valid nonetheless. He is worried for Crowley from around 3 minutes into their acquaintanceship. And he NEVER stops worrying.
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And are we quite sure he has never lost Crowley?
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How many times did Aziraphale's heart freeze in horror when he realised Hell has taken Crowley and he had no idea if he'll ever come back and what is happening to him?
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How did Aziraphale spent the night after vanquishing the demons and starting a war? He had no idea where Crowley was. He was probably sick with worry that Hell just took him away. We didn't see him drink, but surely, the worry must have been overwhelming. The wait for what will happen.
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ALL his worries over the Arrangement. Was he worried for himself? Do we really think that?
Crowley thought he lost Aziraphale in S1, yes, we saw that. And what happened to the angel then?
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He got blown into atoms which I bet wasn't pleasant and when he arrives in Heaven he limps. Why is he hurt? Why is he quickly pretending he isn't? Why is he always hiding how he feels? Also, he immediately deserts, wants no part in the Holy War and quickly finds an extremely unconventional way to get back. It's not a grand gesture, he doesn't deliberate, doesn't worry that he will Fall (although surely that must have been what he thought), there's no pomp around it, he thinks it and then does it. No hesitation.
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Is this coming from an angel who just can't leave Heaven behind and longs to be a part of it? Who loves to follow rules? And let's not forget in those moments Aziraphale thought Crowley was most likely gone. That he probably left for Alpha Centauri. Last he heard from him he was told he was talking to an old friend and had no time for him. Why we NEVER talk about how that might have felt for Aziraphale?
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Things are not as simple as Aziraphale has been supressing his emotions and lying to himself about how he feels and he should get over it and become free. That's not how this works. He was suppressing his emotions OUT OF LOVE. His main goal was always to keep Crowley safe. They simply couldn't run away or hoodwink Heaven and Hell. They had nowhere to go. They had no hope and yet they kept loving each other. That's courage. I know we all grew up with Romeo and Juliet and Heathcliff and Cathy and we FORGOT that those were CAUTIONARY tales. And this is not what Aziraphale wants for them. He would never allow himself to go so fast he would hurt Crowley. He feels guilty enough for agreeing to the Arrangement and for meeting Crowley at all when he knows they can be discovered and punished at any point. And Crowley knows it and RESPECTS it. He does not tolerate Aziraphale's decision to not go on a date and to hell with circumstances. He understands Aziraphale's reasoning and he respects Aziraphale's decision. Don't forget, they have NO POWER. They can't change Heaven and Hell. They can't stop believing in God and work on their religious trauma. Their Heaven and Hell are real places with real power and they BELONG to them. Aziraphale's trauma and his personality are deeply intertwined and he'd probably never be the kind of person who is open in showing their grief or stress. He will learn to be more open, I' sure. With his love especially, we see him reaching for and touching his demon in S2. Openly being with him, looking at him without guarding himself. They got a little bit of freedom for themselves despite ALL odds. So. Just because Aziraphale is not crying and screaming and I dunno, tearing his hair out or whatever some people would have him do, does not mean he isn't overflowing with pain, fear, uncertainty, doubts, worries, and so much anxiety that if he let it all out, half of the solar system would turn to ashes.
Aziraphale does not need to suffer in S3 to level out Crowley's suffering. They are, unfortunately, equal in their pain as they are in love. If there is one thing Crowley would never abide, it'd be this take from the fandom. * One more note on grief: (obviously from my personal experience) As initiated by @anthony-crowleys-left-nut in a comment
It's not that I mind to know people care and worry etc, but asking how I am can only end in me lying (fine, thank you) and both of us knowing it's not really true and feeling awkward or not lying (I feel like shit, mostly cos I can't sleep and think the world is a stupid unfair place) and both of us feeling awkward anyway. Does that make sense? I wish I could tell friends/colleagues to ask what I've been up to or something similar instead. What I've been reading (um, AO3, but I'll make something up), watching, do I want to go see some spring flowers bloom (I do).
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rainybubbles · 1 month
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How do you meet COD Men ? - AU civilian
Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Price, König, Rudy, Alex, Nikolai
(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written, mid or if they're OOC)
SOAP as a firefighter : 
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-"911, how can I assist you today?"
-"I think there's been a break-in at my place!"
-"Could you describe the intruder, ma'am?"
-"It's... a turkey."
-"A turkey?"
-"Yeah, one of those gobbling birds! My neighbors use a live one for their Thanksgiving, and it somehow busted loose. It barged into my place through the door, gave me a real fright. I dashed into my bathroom, but it went all 'Rambo' on my door, and now it's busted. My handle is broken, I'm stuck in here!"
-"Don't worry, help is on the way."
-And that's when you met Soap. There he was, showing up at your doorstep in full firefighter gear.
-"Hey there ?" he greeted, axe in hand, ready to face off against the rogue turkey.
-You weren’t kidding, he thought.
-He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the havoc that bird had wreaked in your place.
-Your poor sofa was toast, and your table was in pieces. Slowly, he made his way to the damaged door.
-"Hey there, Ah’m a firefighter. I’m here tae break down the door. Please step back."
-"Oh thanks ! I was starting to think I'd be spending the night bawling in my bathtub."
-He chuckled.
-"Wouldnae want a lovely person like yerself spendin’ Thanksgiving solo."
-"Thanks," you replied.
-"I'll get started," Soap said as he began dismantling the door.
-"Here, it looks like the turkey's gone," he reported.
-But when he turned to you, he noticed something amiss.
- Normally, people were relieved to see him, not scared out of their wits.
-His gaze shifted back, and that's when he saw it—the monstrous turkey, ready to pounce.
-Without a second thought, he scooped you up, effortlessly carrying you despite whatever size or weight you were, and bolted past the bird.
-"Why's that thing so fast?" he exclaimed.
-"They're practically dinosaurs, I swear!" you cried from the safety of his arms.
-You both made it to the street. Soap dialed up a wildlife specialist to handle the feathery menace.
-"Ah’l swearin’ off turkey forever," he vowed.
-"I think finding a new place to live might be a good idea," you whispered, still trying to calm your nerves.
-"Aye, yer neighbors are some real characters for pullin’ a stunt like this."
-"Thanks again for this. I mean, I'm sure you've got more pressing cases."
-"No’ really. Usually, it's just family squabbles. Last time, Ah had a grandma tryin’ tae kill her son wi’ mashed potatoes," he joked.
-"Grandma can get wild," you chuckled.
-"Ye have no idea. Name's John, by the way. Sorry for forgettin’ ma manners."
-"Hey, a wild turkey trying to take me out can do that to a person," you quipped. "I'm Y/n," you added.
-He grinned.
-“I owe you big time, Soap," you said, finally stepping out of the bathroom. "Guess this Thanksgiving, I'll be giving thanks for firefighters and sturdy bathtubs."
-Soap gave you a reassuring smile. "Hey, it's all in a day's work. Plus, -it's not every day I get to play hero to a person in distress... from a turkey."
-After the turkey trouble was sorted, Soap bid his farewell. Little did he know, two days later, your new neighbor would be attempting to cook aluminum in his microwave. Maybe this time he'd find a moment to ask for your number.
-------
GHOST as a chef : 
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-The poor waitress had asked you twice if you wanted to order by the time your date arrived. But it was painfully obvious. 
-You had been stood up.
 -You tried to ignore the looks, the sensation of your clothes feeling too tight, too constricting. You felt like a clown.
-Staring at your phone, you sent messages, hoping for excuses like traffic or an important matter.
-Maybe he had a flat tire, or perhaps his boss demanded he stay late. Yet, two hours later, you were still there, feeling like a fool.
-That's when the message came: "Oh, I was just joking, you're not my type, you know."
-Tears welled in your eyes as you felt the humiliation wash over you.
-How could someone flirt for two months just as a joke? He messaged you every night; how were you supposed to know it was all a farce?
-Biting your lip, you stood up.
-At this hour, you hoped there were still buses running.
-You couldn't afford an Uber. Yet, as you gathered your things, the waitress approached.
-"Excuse me, but your food will arrive."
-"I... I'm sorry, but I can't... I can't afford anything here, and my date stood me up. He was supposed to pay, and..." you rambled, feeling ashamed, but she led you back to your seat.
-You felt even more ashamed. This place was so luxurious.
-"I really can't afford it, madam," you whispered.
-"It's on the house. The chef offered it," she said gently.
-"Oh."
-You didn't know if you felt grateful or not. It felt like pity, but food from a Michelin-starred restaurant was still a luxury, so you ate. It was unbelievably good. You felt so thankful to the chef.
-"I... could I thank him?" you asked after finishing your dinner.
-"He doesn't speak to clients. That's why he opened his own restaurant — so he could remain unseen by his patrons and not be obligated to accept their thanks, As he says “I Ghost clients”" the waitress explained.
-"I see. His dishes are so precise, it's impressive."
-"Yeah, he's good with a knife."
-"Well, thanks again for offering me this. It was a crappy night, but at least I ended up in heaven," you said.
-She smiled, and you left.
-But you felt indebted to him. Dishes like that cost a lot.
- Even if you didn't doubt he could afford it, you felt like you had to do something in return.
-So the next night, you baked cookies.
-You felt ridiculous with your small Tupperware and homemade cookies.
-They'd probably taste awful to him, you thought, but you wanted to repay him.
-"Hi, I... wanted to give this to Ghost? He offered me dishes last time, and I wanted to thank him. I understand if you say no. I mean, it could have poison in it, but..." you rambled to the waiter.
-"No need, we'll take it," the waiter with a mohawk said with a smile.
-You felt like he knew something you didn't. As you were about to leave, a tall, blond man walked over, holding a cookie.
-"Thanks," he said with a gruff voice behind his mask.
-Shit. Ghost was... this man?
-This mountain of muscles made those beautiful dishes? Those meticulous details came from his hands? You were impressed.
-"Do you like it?" you asked, unsure.
-"Best cookies I've tasted."
-"I know you're lying."
-"Second," he admitted. "My ma's were better."
-You chuckled.
-"I can give you the recipe. I mean, you really saved me last night. It was so... humiliating."
-"It's not. The only one who should feel ashamed is the bloke who stood you up, love."
-"You're right, but still."
-"Come back again, Friday. With the recipe."
-"I can send it by email."
-"I want you to taste a new dish."
-"Oh."
-"Having someone honest is nice. It's a change from all the compliments."
-"Okay," you agreed.
-Little did you know, Simon would always find new dishes to make you come back.
-Of course, he could ask his sous-chefs or waiters to taste, but seeing your smile or frown after a taste was so much better.
-(I need a long fic about Simon being a chef, like this AU has so much potential, plus in kitchen you have “brigade” which could be like 141)
GAZ as a primary school teacher : 
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-You were on your usual delivery route, this time dropping off packages at the primary school.
-As you made your way through the corridors, you spotted Gaz, the primary teacher, who greeted you with a smile.
-"I was waiting for you," Gaz said cheerfully.
-"Oh, am I right on time?" you responded, glancing at your phone in confusion.
-"Yes, but the kids are eager," Gaz explained.
-You furrowed your eyebrows. Eager for what? Seeing a delivery person? Or perhaps the contents of your package were something special, like paintings or other intriguing items?
-"I see," you said, still puzzled.
-"Follow me," Gaz instructed, leading you into his classroom before you could protest.
-As you entered, you were met with the curious gaze of twenty pairs of eyes.
-It dawned on you as you glanced at a piece of paper – Gaz had mistaken you for the guest speaker, an athlete scheduled to address the students.
-"Sir, I think there's been a mistake," you whispered to Gaz, but before you could say more, a child wrapped their arms around you.
-"I'm so glad you're here!" the child exclaimed, melting your resolve. How could you shatter their excitement?
-You couldn’t bear to crush their excitement. Besides, it was clear that the athlete wasn’t going to show up; it was already 10 AM, and they were supposed to be there by 8AM according to the schedule on the board.
-And so, you found yourself spinning tales to answer their questions, pretending to be the athlete they expected. 
-“Um, hey there ! Being an athlete is pretty cool, you know” you improvised, trying to sound convincing.
-“How does it feel to do sports all day ?” one curious kid asked
-“Well it’s tough but you know riding horse is fun”
-“I thought you were running”
-“RUNNING ! Of course, horse is just a hobby” you blurted out
-Despite your fibs, the kids beamed with admiration, hanging onto your every word.
-After a couple of hours, Gaz approached you with a knowing smile.
-"You're not the athlete, are you?" he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
-"How did you figure it out?" you replied sheepishly.
-"When you mentioned unicorns helping your coach – that was a dead giveaway," Gaz chuckled. "But I appreciate you playing along."
-"I couldn’t bear to disappoint the kids. Kids' dreams are important," you admitted, feeling a twinge of guilt.
-"Yeah, they are," Gaz agreed. "Thanks for going along with it."
-"It was more fun than my usual deliveries, anyway," you admitted with a grin.
-“Wait, your boss won’t be mad ?! I mean two hours, sorry you must be so late, no ?”he said worried
-“Don’t worry you were my last”
-As you prepared to leave, Gaz introduced himself properly.
-"Thanks against or helping out. And by the way 'm Kyle, but the kids call me Gaz – it's easier for them," he explained.
-"It was nice meeting you, Gaz," you said sincerely, touched by his kindness towards the children.
-As you left the school, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment. And to your surprise, when you made your next delivery, there was Gaz, offering to lend a hand. 
-"Thought you might need some help this time," he said with a wink.
-Maybe it was repayment for your earlier assistance, or perhaps the kids had teased him about having a crush on you – either way, you were grateful for his company.
PRICE as an uni history teacher :
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-It was about 10 PM, and there you were, sprinting in high heels, your wig dangling precariously.
-"Oh, for the love of all that’s good," you muttered under your breath.
-The situation was straightforward, yet utterly absurd.
- You, a university teacher, found yourself at a costume party with a Bridgerton theme.
- After hastily getting ready at your friend’s place, it dawned on you that you had forgotten your house key.
-Sure, crashing at your friend's was an option, but you had a furry friend waiting at home who needed your attention.
-So, off you went, driving back to the only place your keys could be: the teacher's offices at the university.
- Picture this: you, clad in an 18th-century outfit, a fake wig teetering on your head, and a petticoat swishing around, all the while cursing your luck and hoping no students would spot you.
-Finally, you reached the office, finding it deserted. You located your keys and—
-"Quite the accurate ensemble, I must say."
-You froze, turning to find a man with a rather impressive beard. "Um, I can explain?"
-"Are you a student?" he asked.
-"No need to butter me up; I know I don't exactly look like one," you confessed.
-He chuckled. "Sorry, I was just trying to give you an out. You know, student parties and whatnot."
-"Thanks, but yeah, I'm the… new teacher. Guess we haven't crossed paths yet. Been here about a month," you said, extending your hand.
-"Well, isn't this a fortunate coincidence?" he remarked.
-"How so?"
-"I’m John Price," he revealed.
-Your eyes widened. Oh, crap. You just met THE history teacher of the campus dressed as a Bridgerton character. What were the odds?
-He laughed. "Nice to meet my new colleague. Heard quite a bit about your work."
-"Likewise, and… sorry about the attire," you apologized.
-"No need. It suits you. Makes me feel like a proper gentleman seeing someone dressed like that," he said with a grin.
-You chuckled nervously. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr. Price."
-Little did you know, your next class for the first year was a shared one with him. Dodging him might not be as simple as you thought.
NIKOLAI as a F1 pilot :
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-Your friend's desperate plea over the phone stirred something in you.
-"Alright, I'll come help with the shoot," you conceded, feeling a flutter of excitement mixed with apprehension.
-As you arrived at the location, taking in the serene surroundings, you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place among the bustling crew.
-Your specialty lay in capturing the untamed beauty of animals—dogs, cats, and the like.
-This commercial setup felt like a far cry from your usual stomping grounds.
-Engaging in conversation with the staff about the artistic direction, you couldn't help but notice the artificiality of the setting, with fake plants and trees surrounding you.
-Nevertheless, you settled in, adjusting lights and preparing for the task at hand.
-"The model is here," an assistant announced, drawing your attention to the center of the room where a man stood, completely naked.
-"Why is he naked?" you whispered in disbelief, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks.
-"It's for the charity event, featuring naked pilots for calendars," the staff explained casually, oblivious to your discomfort.
-Stunned, you turned to your friend, silently questioning her decision to involve you in this unconventional endeavor.
-"I photograph nature and animals, not... naked humans!" you protested, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration.
-"Well, technically, you photograph a big snake," she quipped, a mischievous glint in her eye.
-You rolled your eyes, suppressing a sigh. "Ugh, don't even mention his...thing, please."
-"I don't mind being called an anaconda," the man interjected with a smirk, his gaze lingering on you in a way that made your heart race.
-Caught off guard by his boldness, you shifted uncomfortably, suddenly hyper-aware of his proximity.
- "Sir, I'm sorry, but I wasn't warned about these... circumstances," you stammered, struggling to maintain composure.
-"I understand. If we need to reschedule, no problem, Солнышко ," he reassured, his voice low and soothing, sending shivers down your spine.
-"What did you just say?" you asked, unable to hide the hint of fluster in your tone.
-"Sorry, I meant no problem to reschedule, sunshine," he clarified, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
-"But you're... a star?" you questioned, feeling a mixture of confusion and intrigue.
-"I'm a well-known F1 pilot, yes. But I'm closer to retirement than those young ones. I doubt people would buy the calendar for me," he admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle, his vulnerability tugging at your heartstrings.
-"I'd certainly buy it for you," your friend chimed in, breaking the tension with a playful grin.
-He laughed, his gaze lingering on you with a warmth that made your cheeks flush. "And you?"
-"I... maybe? Okay, we'll do it, but I can't guarantee anything. I'm more accustomed to animals, so..." you trailed off, feeling a rush of adrenaline at the prospect of working closely with him.
-"Let's get started," he suggested, his smile softening the edges of the room and easing your nerves.
-And so, the shoot commenced, with Nikolai proving to be a surprisingly adept model, effortlessly charming everyone with his wit and charisma.
- As you directed him through the poses, you couldn't help but notice the subtle tension between you, a magnetic pull that seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment.
-"Thanks for today. Need a ride?" he offered, his gaze lingering on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.
-"No, I came in my car," you replied, torn between the desire to stay and the need to escape the overwhelming atmosphere.
-"The red one?" a staff member inquired, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling between you.
-"Yeah, why?" you asked, feeling a knot form in your stomach at the thought of your car.
-"Sorry, mate, your car got impounded," they informed you, their words puncturing the bubble of tension that had enveloped you.
-You sighed, feeling a sense of defeat wash over you. "So, a ride?" Nikolai offered, his gaze softening with concern.
-"Yeah, I guess. What a crappy day," you muttered, cursing your luck.
-"Don't say that, it was great," he insisted, his voice gentle and reassuring.
-You nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude towards him for his unexpected kindness. In his car, as he drove you away from the chaos of the shoot, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you, a feeling that was only amplified by his soothing presence.
-"Not what you were expecting, huh?" he remarked, his tone playful yet sincere.
-"Well, I wasn't expecting a race car drive, but yeah," you chuckled, feeling the tension between you slowly dissipating.
-"I drive safely. Sometimes you need low adrenaline," he explained, his words resonating with you in a way that made your heart skip a beat.
-"Thanks again for the ride," you said, turning to him with a smile that felt more genuine than any you had worn all day.
-"No problem. I mean, you've seen me naked, so..." he trailed off, a mischievous glint in his eye.
-"Yeah, sure," you laughed, feeling a warmth spread through you at the playful banter.
-"If you want, you can still come to one of my races," he offered, his gaze lingering on you with a hopefulness that sent a flutter of excitement through your chest.
-"I'll think about it," you replied, unable to suppress the smile that tugged at your lips as you contemplated the possibilities that lay ahead.
ALEX as a lawyer :
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-You couldn't believe your eyes.
-A client was after you for a cup of tea—yes, you heard that right, a freaking tea!
-The same tea you accidentally spilled during a chaotic rush, and she tripped you with her feet, claiming you scalded her with hot tea. The kicker?
-You knew it was iced tea.
- But it was your word against hers, and she had a squadron of lawyers ready to pounce, while you were broke. It was pretty clear how this would end.
-You sighed, resorting to searching for lawyers online, but all you found were scams.
-One promised to chase after dead people, another claimed you'd make thousands just by being pretty, and the rest boasted about defending infamous criminals with laughably bad Photoshopped images.
-Feeling desperate, you reluctantly agreed when your mom mentioned your cousin knew someone who knew someone. You certainly didn't expect a model-lawyer showing up at your doorstep with a bright smile and legal expertise.
-"Hi, I'm Alex," he offered his hand.
-"Hi, I guess you know about my... case?" you replied.
-"Yes, there's a high chance of her winning since similar cases have ruled in favor of people like her. Remember the McDonald's hot coffee incident?" he explained.
-"So I'm screwed?" you muttered.
-"Not necessarily. I can prove she's acting out of self-interest."
-"...before you say anything, you know, I can't... afford it?" you interjected.
-"Yes. I... I used to be a prominent lawyer. Perhaps you've heard of the Shepherd case?" he mentioned.
-"The CEO who got off the hook despite everyone knowing he committed tax fraud?" you recalled.
-"Yes, I was his lawyer," he admitted.
-"Oh," you murmured, taken aback.
-"I... I'm not proud of the people I've defended. I didn't realize the harm I was causing to victims. For me, everyone deserved representation, but when I saw what Shepherd did with his ill-gotten gains... I couldn't continue down that path. I signed up to advocate for people. Not evil," he confessed.
-"So you took on lost causes like me?" you mused.
-"You could say that," he smiled.
-"Well, it sounds like Daredevil. Maybe I'll catch you wearing a latex suit at night while fighting crime," you joked.
-"You might be onto something there," he replied, his expression serious.
-"Wait, you're joking?" you asked, but he didn't crack a smile.
-"Mr. Keller, you're joking, right?" you pressed, but he just smirked.
-"Let's focus on your case," he redirected.
-"You can't just dodge my question. I need to know—" 
-"Boxing. I box at night, nothing illegal. I train kids, and I've competed in the past," he confessed.
-"I see. Why do I find that hard to believe?" you teased.
-"I'm a damn good liar. I'm a lawyer," he retorted.
-"Fair point," you chuckled.”well at least I believe in the latex suit at night”
-“Kinky”he joked, you smiled.
-Alex got down to business, helping you devise a strategy.
-Maybe with this super lawyer on your side, you stood a chance. Yet, you couldn't shake the curiosity about his secrets. Who knows what uncovering them might bring?
KÖNIG as a baker :
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-König had just opened his bakery.
- Eager to be neighborly, he sent some cookies to the local shops nearby.
- However, when his customers arrived one day, one of them expressed hesitation: "You know, I was hesitant to buy here because I heard you made the florist down the street sick."
-König couldn't believe his ears.
- Ashamed, he double-checked his ingredients, but everything seemed fine.
-So, he decided to switch things up and bake some croissants instead.
-Yet, the next day brought news that the florist had fallen ill due to food poisoning.
-Determined to make amends, König sent something different the following day.
-And the pattern repeated itself. After a week of this, he finally decided to confront the florist.
-Entering their cute shop, he whispered nervously, "Hallo."
-"Hi," you replied.
-"I'm König, the—"
-"The baker," you interrupted.
-He froze.
-Well, he certainly hadn't made a good impression.
-After seven incidents, he couldn't expect a warm reception, but he hoped you’d understand he hadn't done it intentionally. He wasn't a villain.
-"I'm sorry about the pastries," he began, "I swear I don't know what went wrong. Other shops ate them and had no issues. I—"
-"I know you're not trying to poison me," you interjected.
-"Oh, but... then why?" he asked.
-"I thought someone would have told you, maybe Horangi, the chef at the restaurant. But I'm lactose intolerant. I assumed you knew, so I ate your pastries thinking someone had informed you. Then, I realized that wasn't the case. But if I didn't eat your gift, you might have thought I was upset with you, so I still ate them, and—"
-"It was a misunderstanding," König finished their sentence.
-"Two anxious people overthinking things, but yeah," you admitted, laughing.
-"I promise to bake you something lactose-free," he vowed.
-"Thanks, it'll be appreciated. Your pastries were good, just not for my digestive system," you replied.
-He nodded and returned to his bakery, pondering the idea of introducing gluten and lactose-free versions of his pastries. Surely not because of the cute florist who seemed to visit more often now. Nah.
RUDY as a librarian :
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-You were a young journalist, eager to dive into investigative reporting, but your editor relegated you to the local sports section since you were the new kid on the block.
- It wasn't exactly your passion, but you made the best of it. Your current assignment: write about Rodolfo Parra, a former boxer.
-Avoiding the internet due to its unreliable nature, especially for local stories, you opted for the library.
- As you searched for information on Parra, a man approached.
-"Need a hand?" he offered.
-You glanced at his badge, confirming his name as Rudy.
-"Yeah, I'm digging up info on the boxer Rodolfo Parra. I heard his early days were at the local club, so I figured the archives might have something," you explained.
-Rudy smiled. "Rodolfo Parra, huh?"
-"Yeah, you know him?"
-"You could say that, but I've heard he's not too keen on journalists."
-"Exactly why I couldn't land an interview," you sighed.
-"But why write about him? He retired two years ago," Rudy questioned.
-"My boss wants it, so here I am," you replied with a hint of resignation.
-"I've got some info, but can I trust you?" Rudy hesitated.
-"Absolutely, I'll respect his privacy. I just want to know his story, his struggles. I've heard rumors about a fixed fight where a coach, El Sinombre, forced him to lose," you shared.
-Rudy's expression darkened. "It was more than that. I'm surprised you know about it."
-"I've delved into El Sinombre's dealings before. I wanted to write for investigative reporting," you confessed. "I found it odd that a sports club had ties to a pharmacy."
-"They developed stimulants to win fights, and more... potent substances," Rudy revealed.
-"So Rodolfo lost to a doped-up opponent?" you concluded.
-"Yeah. Rumor has it, El Sinombre threatened his family if he didn't comply. Rodolfo vowed never to lose, so El Sinombre took matters into his own hands..." Rudy trailed off.
-"And Rodolfo ended up paralyzed," you finished solemnly.
-"Yeah, but with rehab, he's probably walking now. But he can't fight anymore," Rudy confirmed.
-"Having your dreams crushed like that must be devastating. A fighter silenced," you mused.
-"Maybe it was for the best," Rudy countered.
-"You think so?" you questioned.
-"Boxing isn't a lifelong career. Maybe retiring was a blessing," he reasoned.
-"I don't know, having your dreams shattered like that... it must take a toll. Imagine if someone burned down your library," you countered.
-"Well, this library was my backup dream, so I'd just have to find another," he quipped.
-You nodded, then realization dawned. "Your backup dream?"
-"Yeah," Rudy admitted. "Rudy for Rodolfo. Not the smartest move for a future investigative journalist, huh?"
-"Hey! You—yeah, I was naïve, but you could've given me a heads-up," you teased back.
-"Now, tell me about your boss. Things might be more complicated than we thought," Rudy suggested.
-"Do you think El Sinombre is after you?" you pondered.
-"We'll find out," he replied cryptically.
-Maybe your beat would evolve over time...
If you want more : my masterlist
I still need to write Alejandro, Lasswell and Farah, maybe in a next part with other characters :) !
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kadwrites · 10 months
Text
young love | T.S
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previous part | next part
or check out the series masterlist
summary ; a person from your past makes an appearance.
warnings ; arranged marriage!trope , fem!reader , idk what the hell is happening , SLOW burn
a/n ; i promise that i have a plot but i keep getting side tracked????
-
"what the fuck are ya doing here?" you pull the front door shut
"hello to ya too."
you look at him again , brows raised "what brought ya here hmm?"
"ya didn't even invite me to your engagement party." he looks down at you, his voice teasing
"oh i'm sorry" you let out a small outraged laugh "i didn't know that inviting your ex boyfriend was an engagement tradition."
"aren't ya glad to see me?" he gives you a sly smile
"what brought ya here?" you grit your teeth , looking up at him
"i came here for ya."
"for me?"
"to save ya."
"from what?" your patience is thinning
"well i couldn't let ya get married to someone like 'im could i?" he chuckles "not after the love we had for eachother."
"jeremy." you pinch the bridge of your nose "that was years ago," you try to not raise your voice "do ya even know who i'm marrying?"
"oh i do."
"ya do?" you laugh "and ya thought trying to convince his fiancée to run away is a good idea?"
"you're making a mistake."
you just look up at him, laughing. "jeremy, ya slept with your sister in law, i don't think you're qualified to give me any kind of guidance."
"i'm a changed man" he leans down to whisper to you
"no you're not!" you let out an angry breath , trying to compose yourself "what do ya think tommy shelby would do if he found out you're here? hmm?" you hiss at him
"i love ya." he looks at you, his eyes bore into yours , inching closer
"oh my god" you put a hand over your face, turning,
"i do, i can't let ya go" he hand touches your arm
"oh my fucking god!" your voice becomes high pitched , your eyes opened wide "why are ya still talking? do ya want to get killed?" you whisper angrily, keeping your voice down
"i can't let ya do this" he begs , he pleads
"yes ya can, ya just walk away" your hands wave at the door
"did ya not hear what 'appened to his first wife?" his nostrils flare in frustration
your jaw slacks , you feel as if your eyes would bulge out of their sockets
"do ya know what would 'appen to ya if he heard ya say this?" your voice is low.
he closes his eyes, licking his lips before speaking "look..."
"no" you raise a hand , stopping him before he could get another word in "i don't particularly like ya, but i'm telling ya this as a favor for old times sake" you point at the door "leave , and never come back"
"i'm not leaving ya."
"this isn't a joke, jeremy" you can't help the angry chuckles that keep coming out of you "this is probably the stupidest decision you've ever made."
"do ya want to marry 'im?" his eyes scan your face, studying you
"this is none of your concern." infuriated wouldn't even begin to describe what you felt, "what i do with my life is none of your fucking concern"
"i know ya , this is not something ya would do."
"ya said it yourself, you're a changed man now" you try to explain, "we're different, ya and i are so different now, we are not the same kids we used to be. this isn't what it used to be."
he doesn't say anything else in return, he walks out, shutting the door loudly behind him
you have a hand over your forehead , pacing around the living room, renee is still in her place, watching.
"you brought him here didn't you?" your mother stood in the living room with her hand on her hips, looking you up and down
"mum ... please stop." you stop in your tracks , frustrated "how would i bring 'im here? with telekinesis? i didn't even know he still lives in birmingham for fuck's sake."
she comes closer , gabbing your shoulders "we need to forget this, never speak of it in front of tommy"
"what if he comes back again?" you start to panic "what if he does something worse than this?"
she closes her eyes at the possibility, she doesn't answer.
"this is just what i fucking needed" you turn, plopping down on the sofa
"jeremy is a sweet boy... he wouldn't do anything, would he?" your mum picks at her cuticles nervously ,
you look up with a raised brow "he fucked his brother's wife while we were dating, his brother who by the way raised 'im." you rub at your temple "his moral compass is as useless as that brain of his."
"god, now i know why i always hated him."
"and yet ya wanted us to get married at 17."
"well i didn't want him to knock you up."
"so ya tried to talk me into marrying 'im?" your mother's logic made your head spin faster than it already was "ya know what, forget i asked that" you wave a hand
"what are ya going to do now?" renee finally speaks,
you and your mother look at each other, before looking at renee
"i don't know.." you mumble "i 'ave to go see 'im today, to talk about the wedding venues" you groan, the stress of it all comes back to her
"okay" renee gets up, and sits next to you "ya just act normal, ya get this done, ya forget about it for today and then tomorrow ya try thinking about solutions."
you smile when you step into his office, your hands clasped in front of you, and he's on his chair, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
"why do ya look like that?"
"like what?"
"ya're too happy to see me."
you raise a brow "ya don't want me smiling at ya?"
"ya look possessed." he deadpanned, exhaling a cloud of smoke, his thumb scratching lightly at his lips, hiding his smile
you kiss your teeth, "i hope ya choke in your sleep." you walk up the chair and sit down
he chuckles, looking at you with his head tilted slightly "you'll miss me?"
"believe me , i won't."
"what's wrong?"
your brows pinch together "nothing is wrong"
"really?"
"yes."
"you're a very bad liar."
"i'm just ... tired" you shrugged, your voice squeaked
it's not that you're not used to lying, it's that you have a hard time lying to him
"how's your mum?"
a genuine amused smile pains over your lips, "she's good"
"who told ya?" he nods at you
"who told me what?"
"that i talked with your mother" he continues "was it your two nosy friends?"
"hey hey hey" you put a hand up "don't insult my friends"
"they are nosy, it's the truth"
-
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Note
K follow me Astarion just sees tav like loving on children wherever they go and hes like?????
And tavs like ive always wanted my own child but i didn't wabt to ask you with every
This sends poor starion into a crisis does he was children how many
I think I have followed you. Let's see!
So for this one we got a lil time jump, ambiguous and vague setting and timelines with game spoilers present. M/F pairing because that is my go to and pregnancy is mentioned. Vampiric pregnancy also so there is some weirdness there (i made it up no idea if it's dnd accurate). Vague Tav backstory of a wonderful mother and going off to become a cleric.
~
Astarion was well used to your antics by this point. You had a severe lack of instincts linked to self-preservation, which led to a consistent pattern of doing, frankly, stupid shit. Stupid, but kind. Nothing that Astarion hadn't adapted to, after nearly two years of being attached at the hip you became pretty attuned to your lover's personality.
He could even go as far as to say that he had grown to love your annoying predilection for pious morality. Perhaps he loved talking you out of certain virtuous dangers more, but still. He appreciated who you were, he adored who you were. But Astarion was no saint, despite his insistence on attaching himself to one.
Which is exactly why he was far from amused when you signed him up to babysit a couple of brats. All for acquittances he barely cared about.
But you at least had the good grace to look guilty, "I didn't mean to! But she looked so tired and she said their anniversary was coming up and it's not like we got anything for their wedding-"
That was a nice try, one that Astarion wasn't falling for, "We didn't know of their existence when they got married darling. Just because I can't remember their names doesn't mean you can trick me."
"I'm not trying to trick you!" You whined, arms crossed as you pouted. It sure felt like a trick, especially when Astarion knew that you were well-aware how easily he fell for your sulking. Adorable little monster that you were, "It's only three kids and a baby for one night, it won't be that bad! You don't even have to help-"
Astarion rolled his eyes as he sat next to you on the bed, "I didn't say I wouldn't help."
That seemed to do the trick to get the pout off of your face. You perked up immediately, looking at him like you couldn't quite believe it, "Really?"
"Yes, really," Astarion sighed as you tugged you closer. Sure he liked to bitch, but he really would do anything for you. Even extremely annoying things like this, "I'm not going to sit back and feed you to the wolves."
"They're not wolves! The oldest is barely five," You laughed as you let him manhandle you, settling you into his lap, "And I am sorry, I really wasn't thinking. I promise it won't happen again."
Astarion doubted that, not when he was well-versed of your weak spot for children. No matter where you went you couldn't help but fawn over them, not to mention the insane lengths you would go to keep any child safe. It was a complete and utter blind spot, your kindness extending to them all, even the little scam artists and hellions.
It was sweet, if not extremely worrying at first. Astarion had been terrified of you finding out his past. The things that he had been forced to do, the innocents whose lives he had destroyed. But not only did you find out, you were forced to see it. Both of you were, and it had been worse than anything Astarion could have imagined. He had always found a slight comfort knowing that those he captured would at least die quickly, that at the very least they wouldn't suffer the same agonizing fate as he, just an agonizing death. But no, even that small comfort had been a lie. The horror of finding them all down there has yet to be matched. He had never felt more self-loathing, more pure disgust than the moment he had found those children, tortured and pale, all because of him.
How you didn't see him for the wretched thing he was after all that, Astarion wasn't sure. But he was grateful. You were too good for him. A fact that he was devastatingly aware of, but that wasn't going to stop him from keeping you.
He still thinks about it on occasion, despite the fact that he had done all he could to right his wrongs. They all at least had a chance now to have a life worth living, Astarion could only hope that it would be used. Their future was out of his hands now, a small comfort.
But despite his complicated feelings towards children, he was more than capable of handling them for one evening. And in all honesty, he truly didn't have to do much. He was on self-mandated baby duty, because of course you had to help out the infant that would scream bloody murder unless it was being held. Keeping her tucked against him was a move of self-preservation, if he ever wanted to retain his hearing.
Most of the night was spent amused as he watched you entertain a gaggle of toddlers. You were so... creative with the ways you could defuse their antics. It came to you so naturally, nearly like you were a born mother yourself. It wasn't exactly surprising that you were fantastic with children, he had seen it time and time again. Arabella, Mol, Yenna, all of which still wrote you letters, visited occasionally. Staying forever attached, even from a distance.
Now that Astarion thought about it, it was odd that you weren't a mother. Odder still that you hadn't never even brought up the possibility of having children together. You were usually so open with your wants and always encouraging the same from him. Just one more thing he loved about you. But... why hadn't it been mentioned? Astarion had always assumed it was because you didn't truly want any of your own, that you enjoyed their fun innocence while avoiding the more laborious responsibility of raising them.
Though watching you take care of them all, changing diapers and negotiating silly arguments with a soft smile of your face had him rethinking his assumption.
"You're good with them," Astarion said eventually after you had successfully set the older three down for the night, the baby still stubbornly clinging to him, "I don't think there's a child we've met that doesn't adore you."
You laughed quietly, walking over to kiss him softly on the cheek. Your eyes wandered to the sleeping infant in his arms, still holding a piece of his shirt in it's little fist, "You don't seem to be too bad with them either."
"Newborns don't know any better," Astarion dismissed as he tried to put her down in their borrowed crib. Tried and failed, considering how the thing immediately started to whine the second he attempted to pry it's little hand away.
Oh for fuck's sake. Astarion wasn't even going to try and argue. Instead he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall into the crib with her, seemingly doing the trick of stopping her from waking completely.
When he turned back you were staring at him with soft eyes, looking lovestruck at the simple act of him laying a child down, "Looks like she has pretty good taste to me."
"I don't think your judgment should be trusted," Astarion huffed as he walked over to you, grabbing your hand to drag you to the bedroom. He glanced back at you, his heart nearly skipping a beat from the sweet way you kept looking at him. It had his mind wandering again, those questions still nagging him.
Questions that he didn't have the courage to ask until dead of night, when he had you half asleep against his bare chest, "Have you ever thought of having children?"
He hadn't meant to blurt that out in the middle of the night, but Astarion apparently had a knack for starting important conversations at inconvenient times. Not that you minded.
You just cuddled into him closer, nodding against him with a sigh, "I've always wanted my own children. My own mother, Gods bless her soul, made it all sound so magical. Pregnancy, the early years, puberty, all of it. She loved it all. And I guess it rubbed off on me. It used to be all I could think about, before real life got in the way."
Astarion listened, a little annoyed at himself for not putting the pieces together sooner. You had talked so lovingly about your late parents, how you always wanted to be like your mother. Of course you would want children. How had he not connected the dots?
"But then I went off to the temple," You continued, "I completed my training, went off into the world to do good, blah, blah, blah. You know the story."
"So you grew out of the idea?" Astarion asked.
"Not exactly," You admitted, sounding a little guilty, "But I would never ask that of you love, it's not something you have to worry about."
That-what?
Astarion stared down at you, brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"
"I mean I know that the topic of children is... difficult for you. Considering everything you've been through-"
"I think you mean to say everything I've inflicted on others," Astarion interrupted, unwilling to allow himself grace. Especially when it came to the children of the Gur, "It was much worse for them than me."
You nodded, knowing better than to try and fight him on that particular topic, "I understand, but my point is that I can live without them. You're all I need."
It was comforting to hear, an immediate balm to a brand new set of insecurities that Astarion hadn't been prepared for. But even so... he hated the idea of you sacrificing even more for him. It felt wrong, "But-"
"But nothing," You interrupted softly, setting a quick kiss to his mouth, I'm serious Astarion, you don't need to worry. I'm happy, I love you, and everything is fine."
"I love you too," Astarion murmured, at a loss to say anything else. But the conversation didn't end there.
Astarion couldn't stop thinking about it, even long after the temporary children were sent back home. ou seemed so... sure that he didn't want children, and a week ago he probably would have agreed. But that was back before he knew that he was actively keeping you away from something you wanted. Something you had dreamed about since you were a child. And it felt wrong to be the reason for that, so, so wrong.
He didn't even know if his true feelings on the matter were real. He didn't want children for many of the same reasons he never wanted a partner. The attachment to another was dangerous, he was beyond unequipped to deal with others, let alone care for them, and the entire ideology behind love was ripe for manipulation and heart break. But then he met you and everything changed. Suddenly, caring for another didn't feel like a weakness, it felt like the strongest aspect of his entire self. Taking care of you wasn't an unwanted duty, it was intimacy. Something that he now craved. If all of those steadfast ideals could fall apart simply through meeting you, whose to say he could even trust himself when it came the thoughts around having a child?
Would having one truly be so bad? A little piece of the two of you, alive in the world? And perhaps children were annoying but... Astarion would be lying if he said he didn't have a soft spot for them. He had kept his distance before, but now he was fully confident that he wasn't a danger, no with Cazador burned to nothing bus ash and his own bloodlust well controlled. And it's not as if he was incapable of being a father, worse men than him did it everyday.
It was a confusing place to be, this tightwire of indecisiveness. Confusing enough for him to start a bit of research. He was vaguely aware that it was possible for his kind to breed, but finding out the details was disheartening, to say the least. First he had to parse out the different horror stories of babes eating their way out of their mother's wombs with actual facts, which wasn't exactly pleasant. But the truth was that it was more than possible for the two of you to have child together. It had the potential to either be as noneventful as any pregnancy, with the cavate that the babe coming out looking slightly... dead wouldn't be a permanent state of being. Or it could be as risky as carrying a child could be, with pains and complications galore, even legitimate worries of internal bleeding from the wretched thing prematurely growing claws. Not to mention the occasional, intense blood lust that could occur, an experience that Astarion would prefer you didn't have to go to.
Looking into the reality of the choice didn't help as much as he had assumed it would. If anything it just made the whole situation more real. Even if he wasn't a vampiric spawn, childbirth was risky. Maybe not as risky for you considering how Astarion would move the heavens and hells to get you the best care possible, but still. The thought of you passing, leaving him alone with the child you wanted and would never see, would destroy him. Completely and utterly.
But then again... there was the magical alternative of everything working out just fine. The two of you were both beyond lucky in that regard, considering how you'd overcome mind flayer parasites and fought and won against a near god. It was more than possible that everything would be fine, that you would have a beautiful pregnancy that would end in an even more amazing child. Then two would become three, a family of his very own.
That... didn't sound too bad. Astarion was torn. On one hand, he was almost certain that he was willing to go through with it. Not just because he loved you and wanted you to be happy, though it was the main reason. But also because... he could be a part in making something good. A child that would never suffer the way he did, the way countless others had. One who would be loved, who would have the help they needed for their inevitable unholy hungers. Someone precious for the two of you to fret over, to adore and care for. He... wanted that. Or at least he would if you still did. Now if he could just figure out how to bring it up, maybe something could actually happen.
But luckily enough for him, you did the job for him. He had been pouring over another book dedicated to recording the births of Dhampirs in the area, only to be distracted by you loudly sighing behind him.
"What's wrong love?" Astarion asked, his eyes still scanning the page in front of him.
"Oh I don't know," You sighed, rounding the corner to sit on the edge of his desk, "I just can't help but wonder when you're going to explain why you've suddenly become obsessed with parenting books. And..."
You trailed off, ignoring his surprised expression to read the cover of what was in front of him, "'Vampiric and Mortal Love & The Spawn They Create'. It's not exactly your usual reading material."
Part of Astarion wanted to be surprised that you had already figured him out. He had at least been trying to hide things from you slightly, not that it mattered when you could read him like a book. And he supposed that blatantly reading things like this in front of you would eventually have an effect, even if he tried to obscure the titles.
But that didn't stop him from stuttering through a response, "Well-I, okay. I've just been thinking about options lately. Which you can't really do if you don't understand what they are. Hence the books."
You frowned at him, one leg crossed over the other, "Star, I already told you that you don't need to worry-"
"But I want to worry," Astarion interrupted, deciding that ripping the band-aid off would be the best course of action, "And if there is something I can be doing to make you happier than I should at least consider it."
"I'm not going to force you into this for that," You said softly, reaching out to twine his fingers against yours, "This isn't the kind of thing you do just for someone else."
Astarion was aware of that, there was an important truth to your words. But... "What if it wasn't just for you?"
You paused, your brow furrowed as you stared at him, "What do you mean?"
"I mean what if, and consider this purely hypothetical, what if I wanted one as well. What then?" It was as far from hypothetical as Astarion could get, but by the look on your face it didn't seemed like that needed to be clarified.
You swallowed, looking just shy of hopeful as you played with his hand, "I... well. I guess in that case we would have a lot to talk about."
That wasn't quite the answer he was looking for. He pressed on, "So if in theory, I did want one. Would... you still be interested in having one?"
With me?
He left that part unsaid as he waited for an answer, uncharacteristically nervous as you mulled it over. But you were smiling, bright and wide, giving his hand a little squeeze as you spoke, "I think that would be the only scenario where I would want it. If that's something you wanted."
"I think it is," Astarion answered honestly, done with being coy, "I don't know how, I... I'm not quite sure how I feel about you carrying something that could be dangerous. But... in general yes. I think I want this. I do want this. With you and only you. Whenever your ready."
The next part Astarion did see coming, his arms already open by the time you launched yourself at him. You straddled his lap, kissing every part of his face as you babbled, "We can wait! It doesn't need to be now but-I just-yes! Adoption, childbirth, I don't care. All I need is to have them with you. That's all I want."
"And that I can give," Astarion laughed, delighted at your reaction. He still had concerns, plenty of them in fact, but they were hard to consider when the woman he adored was so ecstatic.
He gripped your chin, chuckling at the whine you let out for him interrupting your onslaught of affection. You didn't have to wait long, not when he directed your mouth against his, kissing you deeply as a new wave of exciting, and slightly nauseating feelings worked through him.
He didn't know exactly what was going to happen in the future. He had no idea if he would be a good father, but he knew that he would try his damndest. He didn't know how the two of you would even procure a child, but he did no one thing.
With you by his side, it would work out. All of it, no matter how hard the road turned out to be. And that was all that mattered.
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atlabeth · 2 months
Text
price of dreaming
series masterlist
pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader
summary: luke's spiral and the part you play in it.
a/n: this is so sad i'm sorry. like it's just a couple thousand words of luke being sad with a cute little flashback and a percy mention to make it all more sad. i don't know what's wrong with me why did i start writing this series
wc: 4.1k
warning(s): pretty severe angst bc this takes place after hurricane's death and goes up to mid tlt. death ideation, minor descriptions of injuries, luke isn't the best person, just a whole lot of sadness.
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Luke returns to camp two weeks after your death, nothing more than a shell of himself.                      
Half of his time was spent sitting in an interrogation room in a Boston police station, mumbling his way through questions he doesn’t know how to answer. It’s not every day that a teenage girl is found nearly ripped apart in the middle of a city with her boyfriend completely broken next to her. Two EMTs had to literally drag him away from you—at least, that’s what they tell Luke. Everything after your heartbeat stopped is a blur for him. He doesn’t really even know how he got to the station.
And that’s how it is for a while. He talks to detectives who don’t believe him, he stares at the wall and wishes you were here, he goes home with your mom. She’s being asked just as many questions, and she refuses to leave him out on the street or take him back to camp. She doesn’t understand that Luke’s done it all before. 
Eventually, the officers settle on a freak animal attack. It didn’t make sense for an animal capable of doing that to be in the city, but mortals see what they want to see. Luke is just thankful to be out of it. 
But he doesn’t know what to do next. There’s a huge gaping hole in his chest and in his life without you, and he doesn’t know how to live without you. Every time Luke closes his eyes he sees your face, and he hasn’t been able to sleep through the night since it happened. He only really manages to stay out when his body practically shuts down from exhaustion. 
Your mom treats Luke like a second son while he’s living with her, and it pains him more than anything. She asks him if he wants to stay with her, try and finish out the semester. He was surprised she still wanted anything to do with him. 
Luke declined. He loved your mom, but being in that apartment without you—walking past your room and knowing you would never be there again, seeing a space you carved out for yourself knowing the most integral part was missing—was just too much for him. The full reality of you being gone still hadn’t sunk in yet. 
He’s soured on the city of Boston as a whole. He’s felt your blood on his hands since the moment it stained his fingers, and for as long as Luke lives he will never forget the look on your mother’s face when she showed up at the police station. 
Your mom offers to drive him back to camp, and though he wants to say no to that as well, he doesn’t. Luke can tell that she needs a distraction, and he doesn’t really know how else he’s gonna get back to camp. They don’t talk very much on the way there, but neither of them burst into tears, so he considers it a victory. 
She parks at the bottom of the hill and hugs him so tightly he can’t breathe, but he welcomes any kind of feeling. 
“Stay safe, Luke,” she says, her hands on his shoulders. “And if you ever need a place to stay—”
“I know,” he interrupts. “And I’ll try.”
She nods a few times, and she blinks back tears as she looks up at him. “Thank you for everything you did for my daughter. For all those years that you kept her safe.”
It clearly wasn’t enough, Luke wants to say. If it was, he wouldn’t have lost you back then, and he wouldn’t have lost you now. But that wouldn’t help anyone, so he nods. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his throat still dry as a desert. 
“Always.”  
“I know how much you meant to each other,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry, Luke.” 
He holds back his emotions. “So am I.” 
Your mom nods again and they say their goodbyes once more, hugging one last time. When Luke reaches the top of the hill, he looks back to see her still standing there. He wishes he could do something to ease the pain, but he doesn’t even know how to deal with his own. 
Luke stops at Thalia’s tree, and he already feels that lump in his throat. 
“I hope you’re together in Elysium,” he murmurs. “I always thought you would like each other.” 
The beginnings of tears prick the back of his eyes and he clears his throat, shaking his head like it’ll help silence the millions of thoughts scattered around his brain. If Thalia lives on like this, he hopes your spirit is still around somewhere.
“I love you,” he says quietly. “And I’m sorry I failed both of you.”
Nobody at camp knows. How could they? 
Luke wasn’t expected back until the summer, though, so his presence at the top of the hill is telling in of itself. Especially alone. 
He ignores everyone that tries to talk to him and gets to the Big House to break the news to Chiron. Thankfully, when he dissolves into tears, it’s behind closed doors. Chiron takes it in a saddened stride, and Luke wonders how many heroes have died in his lifetime. 
You have no siblings to make a burial shroud, so the Athena cabin takes up the responsibility. Annabeth invites him to take part, but he can hardly stomach the thought. 
It’s beautiful. They emulate the ocean through embroidery and Annabeth even gets a little Red Sox patch in. They let Luke burn it, and he’s amazed he even makes it through the ceremony. But the entire camp shows up, and there isn’t a single dry eye. He hopes you at least know how many people care about you. 
Chris takes over as counselor for the indefinite future, which is probably a good thing when Luke can barely muster the strength to get out of bed most days. He picks at his food when he’s able to make it to meals, and his prayers to Hermes have never felt emptier. He used to do one for Poseidon every so often, especially when you were at school, but the thought makes him sick. His eyes never stop trailing over to Cabin Three’s table. 
The Poseidon cabin is empty again. 
Luke doesn’t fully realize the path he’s taken until he’s standing in the doorway and the scent of salty air hits him. He’s so used to hanging out with you after dinner that he just went there automatically. 
It feels unfinished. It is unfinished. You had a whole box of things back in Boston that you wanted to bring back to camp to decorate. 
Your posters still hang on the walls—Blondie, Pearl Jam, Alanis Morisette. Fairy lights are falling down in the corner, and they’re unplugged. Luke had to remind you to unplug them before you left for the school year. 
You should be standing next to him, smiling and laughing and dragging him in behind you as you rant about capture the flag or the canoe race you definitely didn’t cheat in. He blinks away the tears building in his eyes and he takes a step back. 
You should be here. You’re not. 
(How many more times is he going to end up here chasing ghosts?) 
There are some things a person just can’t get over. 
And that’s how his days go. He barely manages to get out of bed, picks at meals that taste like sand, musters what little strength he has to lead sword lessons, endures pitiful looks and sympathetic speeches. 
Luke gets lost in the past more than he should, oftentimes sitting on the beach talking to you as he watches the waves roll in or sneaking out to the dock in the middle of the night to be in the company of the only person he can stand. 
By the time summer comes back around, Luke is sure of three things. 
He isn’t ever going to be the same again. 
You should still be alive. 
He won’t rest until he’s torn Olympus down brick by brick. 
-
“It’s quiet here,” Luke said.
“That’s what happens when you don’t have any siblings,” you murmured. 
His eyes trailed over to the door and you nudged him with your shoulder. “What do you keep looking over there for? Scared someone’s gonna catch us?” 
He shrugged. “We’re technically not allowed to be in here together.” 
“They can’t say anything,” you said. “We’re both counselors. And no one’s in this place anyways. Besides,” you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, “we’ve earned all the time in the world.” 
Luke smiled and snaked an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “You think so?” 
“We lost two years together,” you said, laying your head on his chest. “Far as I’m concerned, no one can say a damn thing to us.” 
“It always feels like we talk about the past,” he said. “What about the future?” 
“All I know is I want you in it,” you mused. You always loved resting on his chest because you could hear his heartbeat, could feel the slight rise and fall from his breathing. It meant he was alive, and after what you’d been through, that was more valuable than anything. 
“Obviously,” Luke said coyly. “I want you in mine too. But what about the details?” 
“We gotta finish high school first,” you said. “Have you thought about what I said?” 
“...Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s just been a while since I’ve left camp. Going back to school seems rough for someone who hasn’t been in classes since elementary school.” 
You shook your head. “Which is exactly why my school would be perfect for you. We left at the same age, remember?” You took his hand and began to trace the lines of his palm. “It took some getting used to, but I made it. If I can, so can you—and I’ll help you every step of the way.” 
Luke chuckled softly. “I’m a little worried about leaving Annabeth.” 
“Annabeth of all people would support you going for your education,” you said. “And it’s not like she’ll be on her own—everyone likes her here.” 
“...Talk me through it,” Luke decided. “Say we both go back for the school year. What does a sophomore year for the two of us back in Boston look like?” 
“Well, we’d be living together. We have an extra room in our apartment, and I’m sure I can convince my mom to let you take it.” You let out a sigh as you shifted, moving closer into Luke’s side. “We’d take the T together to school, but you don’t have to worry because I can show you around everywhere.” 
He chuckled. "I could use a refresher on Boston. Don't have the fondest memories there."
"We'll just make some new ones," you promised. “I’m on the soccer team, too. I was JV this year, but I’m gonna make varsity next fall—mark my words.” 
Luke rubbed your shoulder as he hummed. “And I’d come to every game.” 
“You better.” You glanced up at him with a smile. “You could try out for something too. I think you’d make a killing in basketball.” 
He raised his eyebrows. “Do you not remember all those pick-up games we played when we were younger and bored? I was gods-awful.” 
“This’ll be different,” you insisted. “You’ll actually be sleeping on a bed every night, and eating consistently. I think that makes you a better athlete. Plus, you’re not three feet tall anymore.” 
Luke laughed as he intertwined your fingers together. “The star soccer player and the mediocre basketball player. We make quite a couple.” 
“You’d be better than mediocre,” you said. “Anyways—we’d play our sports and kill it, I’d introduce you to all the friends I made last year, I’d show you all around Boston, and I’d get you hooked on the Red Sox.” 
He leaned back against the headboard with a chuckle. “You’re really never gonna let this go, are you?” 
“It’s my sovereign duty to put you onto the Red Sox,” you said, “especially surrounded by all these Yankees. I’m gonna get you to a game one of these days. And after we kill sophomore year, we’ll kill junior and senior year.” You tapped on his chest for each year with your free hand, and his smile grew. “Then we’ll graduate high school together. With honors, and monster-free.” 
“You have such high standards,” Luke said wryly. “I’ve always thought I’d be lucky to pass with C’s.” 
“You haven’t always had me,” you mused. “And when we’re together, we can’t lose.” 
Luke smiled as he looked at your intertwined hands. “Y’know, I think your plan sounds pretty good. I’m pretty sure I could put up with school if it meant more time with you.” 
You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. Luke moved his hand to keep you there, and when you pulled away, a delicate blush painted his cheeks and pure love danced in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile. 
You were the luckiest girl in the world. 
“Thank you,” you said. 
Luke offered a sideways grin. “For what?”
You shrugged. “For being you.”
“Thank you, then,” he said. 
“For what?” 
“For sticking with me,” Luke said. “Through everything.” 
“I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else,” you murmured. 
-
The second year isn’t any easier. 
Luke is back to being year-round. There’s no point in going home—not when Connecticut hasn’t welcomed him in years. Not when he would just be another problem for your mother in the midst of her grief. 
So he stays at camp. Endures the pitiful looks from everyone, lies his way through attempted therapy with Chiron, trains more than ever before. No one seems to know how to treat him, because he goes from completely alone to swarmed with sympathy to completely alone again. It takes two months before his friends are acting like he’s a normal person again, and even then it still feels like they’re walking on glass. 
Luke can’t find enough inside of him to care. 
He practices with his sword until he feels like his arms might fall off, only narrowly avoiding the harpies each night. His siblings ask how he does it, why he does it, and he just says he wants to get better. 
But Luke refuses to let it happen again—not when his surrogate sister is all he has left. Not when he sees you every time he closes his eyes. 
His birthday comes and goes, but seventeen is empty without you. He replays your past conversations in his head, about traveling together and graduating together and maybe even going to college together. Demigods aren’t meant to think about the future, but he dared to dream with you. 
And the worst part was that you were right. You made varsity. You were in the middle of killing sophomore year, despite Luke struggling his way through with C’s and the occasional D—you had always been smarter than him. You got him out to a Red Sox game, and gods forbid, he actually enjoyed it. 
You were living the life you deserved, a life of happiness and success and with Luke, and you didn’t even make it past sophomore year. You were meant for so much more, and every day he questions why it was taken from you. Every day, he questions why you’re gone and he’s not. 
The year chugs on in all its misery, and for the first time since he all but rejected him as his son, Hermes appears to Luke. 
His father gives him a quest, and he takes it despite the inherent insult of it. Maybe some part of him hopes he’ll die out there and finally get to see you again. 
(Another part wonders if he’s even worth Elysium. Luke lost you once, then he lost Thalia, and now he’s lost you again. Some kind of hero he is.) 
He goes it alone. It takes him back to the first couple of months before he met you, and when the thought hits him, it almost overwhelms him. Everything makes Luke think of you, but it makes sense. He’s only living half a life—he’s missing the other half of his soul. 
Luke fails his quest. He manages to get a claw and he manages to nearly lose an eye. There’s no glory in a repeated quest, but there might be even less glory in this. 
And once more, Luke staggers back to camp as a victim rather than a hero. Someone only worthy of pity, someone so weak that Chiron bans quests unless they’re absolutely necessary. It takes weeks for the scars on his body to heal, and the mark on his face even longer. He becomes well-acquainted with the cycle of Apollo kids that take shifts in the infirmary.  
He feels nothing but disgust every time he looks in the mirror. After all, the claw marks ripping their way through his body match yours. Sometimes he wishes Ladon finished the job. 
It doesn’t make sense why, after everything, he’s still here. 
Luke can hardly stand to be at camp, but he’s got nowhere else to go. He gets better at hiding his emotions, better at acting like he’s gotten through it. New demigods show up and he’s not the bereaved counselor anymore—he’s not introduced with his grief. He hides it away.  
No one wants to deal with all the problems he’s racked up. His mom, his dad, Thalia, you.    He’s a demigod. Demigods are resilient. So he plays the part—he’s been through a lot, but he’s past it. He promises he’s not a burden anymore. He’s just a normal kid. 
And for a while, Luke is almost able to believe it himself. He’s never going to be over you, but he starts feeling like a person again rather than a ghost of one. He’s fully taken over the mantle of counselor again, and he’s actually present during sword-fighting lessons. He even manages to get a six-month-long capture the flag winning streak going on. 
And then Kronos appears in his dreams. 
Luke knows Greek mythology. It’s hard not to pick up a couple things when you’re fighting stuff from the history books, but they teach some lessons at camp. It’s nice to know what you’re up against before you die a brutal death. 
Kronos killed his father. He ate his children. Every wicked deed was done for power, and power is what he offers Luke. 
And maybe there’s something wrong with him, because it’s the first time he’s felt hope since he left Boston. 
Luke finally has an answer to something. He’s been silently cursing the gods for years, trying to figure out a way to tear everything down without getting himself immediately killed, and he’s got one. 
Kronos speaks to him most nights. He remembers the dreams you shared with him in your final year, all the restless hours spent sitting together on the fire escape as he soothed you. You thought Kronos was the reason for it, but he couldn’t have been. His dreams were nothing like yours. 
But still, Luke wonders every day what you would say if you were here, if you knew the treacherous path he’d embarked on. Kronos promised power, freedom, an end to Olympus and the reign of the gods. 
He doesn’t care about power. He just wants to hold you again. He wants to hear your laugh again. He wants to see your smile in more than pictures. 
But he can’t. And he wants to destroy everyone responsible for it. 
So he does everything the Titan Lord asks of him. He hones his skills even further, he lays low, and when the time is right, he steals Zeus’s bolt and Hades’ helm. Luke even nearly beats Ares when he’s caught, but Kronos doesn’t lead him astray—he speaks of divine war, and he gets out of it. 
He continues to see you. Kronos doesn’t lead him astray, but he punishes him for such a close call. Luke wakes in the middle of the night, eyes wide and chest heaving with labored breaths, and he feels your blood on his hands all over again. He sees you die over and over again and he can do nothing to stop it.  
You always told each other about your nightmares. 
That’s the hardest part of it all. You’ve always been so closely intertwined with Luke’s life since the moment he saved you in that aquarium years ago, and he can’t see any way to let go of you. He can’t—even though you’re gone, you’re still a part of him. His first instinct in any situation is to tell you, and it kills him that he can’t. 
And maybe things would have turned out different for Luke if you were still around. He’s never going to forgive himself for your death, and he’s certainly never going to forgive the gods. Thalia pushed him to the edge, but you were the breaking point. Luke is only nineteen and he’s loved and lost more than most.
Maybe things would be different if you were here. But you’re not, and they aren’t. So when a new demigod shows up, covered in monster dust and nearly dead on camp’s doorstep with Grover in tow, Luke doesn’t hesitate. 
He killed the Minotaur, and his mom is dead. Skilled enough to take on a quest, desperate enough to ignore a couple warning signs. Percy Jackson is the boy Kronos told him about. 
So Luke takes him under his wing. Shows him around camp, welcomes him to the Hermes cabin, trains with him one-on-one. 
Something about his spirit reminds him of you. It’s the grit, he thinks. The determination. The refusal to back down even when it’s the smartest option. When he asks about you that night in the Hermes cabin, Luke’s heart stutters. The kid is too sharp for his liking. 
It doesn’t take long before Luke manages to cement himself as one of his friends, maybe only third to Annabeth and Grover. He’s a lost kid that’s been thrust into a world he doesn’t understand, and Luke is the closest thing to a rock most campers have got. 
It’s supposed to just be a guise, but sometimes, he forgets himself. He likes Percy too much—he just feels too much like a younger brother, and that’s not really good for the already growing guilt in his chest. 
Maybe it’s because Luke sees himself in Percy. Someone playing a part he’s not aware of, an unfortunate pawn with no choice in the matter. Luke tries to push it away. Kronos wouldn’t lead him astray—this was the path he had to take if he wanted anything to change. 
But it’s not like that makes it easier. Because gods, Percy has never looked more like a kid than when he’s suited up in armor for capture the flag. It almost makes Luke regret the plan he has to enact. 
Almost. 
Annabeth has a plan as usual, and thankfully Percy plays the part of bait. Luke tunes out of everything else and lets his battle senses take over—things have already been set into play, and now all Luke can do is hide in plain sight. Soon enough he’s got the red team’s flag past the boundary line, and he’s hoisted up onto his teammates shoulders. Luke is almost able to forget what he’s done. 
…Almost. 
A howl rips through the forest, and the hellhound Luke summoned after the start of the game launches itself at Percy. He’s on the ground before he knows it, the flag forgotten in his hand as he rushes over with the rest of the campers. 
For some ungodly reason, Annabeth tries to step in front of him, but she’s thankfully too slow. The monster swipes at Percy and its claws shred through his armor. For a split second, Luke is back in Boston and his chest stills.
Chiron solves the problem with a cluster of arrows, but the camp is in immediate disarray. Clarisse instantly accuses Percy, Annabeth is trying to make sure Percy doesn’t die, and Luke just hopes his shock is believable enough to hide his annoyance. He’s just a scrawny kid—how the hell is he still alive? But then the unthinkable happens.
Annabeth tells Percy to step back in the lake. The instant he’s in the water, what should have been a fatal wound starts to heal. 
And then a glowing blue trident appears above Percy Jackson’s head. 
Luke feels sick as he lowers himself to one knee with the rest of camp. As the hellhound he summoned melts into the shadows, as he stares at the sacrificial lamb of a demigod meant to unknowingly enact his plan. 
“Poseidon,” Chiron says. “Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God.”
Your brother. 
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runawayolives · 4 months
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So for baby daddy Nate, does reader go to school visibly pregnant? Or once she starts showing she does virtual school?
Thank you for the ask, anon!
So this is not that, but something I had in mind kind of in the same topic.
This belongs to the series Baby Daddy
Maddy took a deep breath while laying down in her backyard, running her hand over her face.
"How is college application going?"
"Nonexistent."
She turned around to face her slightly pregnant friend. "What do you mean nonexistent?"
She shrugged, replying with a dry tone. "It means I'm 17 and pregnant, and I don't want to be a college student and a mother at the same time."
"So? Your parents offered all the help to raise it, you can go to college and during the weekends be with it." Maddy tried to hide the distaste she felt towards the small thing currently existing in her friends abdomen, seeing it as the biggest impediment in both their lives.
"It isn't an it anymore it's a she."
"I don't give a fuck what it is, what I care about is that you're not going to college because of it." She turned her head around to face her friend, practically seeing smoke coming out of her ears and nose.
"Mads, she isn't the guilty one, you said it, my parents offered to raise her."
"Then why are you not going?"
"I don't want someone else raising my child, I don't want her to see her childhood as a period where I was too preoccupied studying to be her mother." This time she really looked at Maddy. She looked at her as if gazing into her eyes would connect with her soul. She wasn't just looking at her, she was trying to explain in a too deeply way her reasons that had already become a stable decision.
"She won't remember."
"She will know eventually."
"If you don't go now, you will never go."
"Lorelei Gilmore did it."
"Fuck her." Y/N broke off eye contact to laugh. She liked Maddy because her abrasiveness did just that, in high tension moments, it acted as a terminator, making it all disappear ear. "Don't laugh, I didn't say that for you to laugh."
"Why are you so mad about this, Mads?" Her friend scoffed, looking away, as if the racional answer was somehow in the clouds or the sky.
"What about me?" Y/N was too confused by the question to read her friends body language.
"I mean, you're like the number one not fan of the baby, but I guess you can be the godmother. Or you could learn how to cook and we could start an inn and raise a bratty and train-wreck kid." Maddy stood up, still not turning around to face her friend.
"What about me, Y/N?"
"Mads, I don't understand what you're asking." She finally turned around, facing her friend. Y/N could now see her face, red and with a few angry tears falling down her cheeks.
"What about me, Y/N? If you don't make it out, what does that mean about me? If this has happened to you, there's no hope for me."
"Maddy..."
"No, don't sugar coat it. I was rooting for you, I was. My mother was proud of me whenever she saw us together, she could see me actually doing something with my life. And now you're here, giving up, ruining your life for a baby you haven't planned and stuck to a guy that is set on ruining your life. If that's what you get, I don't want to know what's waiting for me." She took a deep breath and kneeled down beside her friend. "You've given up on yourself, but I won't. I won't because I refuse to believe this is all there's going to be to your life."
Y/N leaned forward to hug her friend, squishing her as if that would make all her worries evaporate. "I have not given up on you, Maddy Perez, and I'll never will."
They both stood there, for as long as they needed, crying and sometimes laughing, trying to find humor in their seemingly dooming predicament.
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