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piratefishmama · 11 months

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Fake it 'till you make it | Prompt

When Steve Harrington came out to his parents, he expected a few things to happen. Jumping back a little, he hadn’t even meant to come out. His parents meant well, they did. He couldn’t deny that they meant well.

They knew he was lonely when they were gone, they knew he was the type of person who kind of… needed someone around. He wasn’t a lone wolf, he wasn’t someone who could just go it alone, while they were away for months, and while Robin was lovely, Robin was also a lesbian.

So Robin was out of the question.

So it fell to the women they knew. Through their connections. And unfortunately those women tended to be, for lack of a better phrase, ‘Daddies money is how I intend to live for the rest of my life’, and completely comfortable in switching out who Daddy was.

Steve… didn’t have a daddy kink, thanks.

Okay maybe he did a little but not in the call him daddy kind of way. More the other way around.

After the fifth attempt to throw some business partners daughter at him, a woman who’d actually kind of impressively deep throated a hot dog at the office barbeque while looking directly at him before he’d even gotten her name. Impressive, kind of terrifying.

An image of his life consisting of an unhappy marriage where his wife used sex as some kind of transaction rather than the big family full of love that he wanted flashed before his eyes.

He'd had enough. So when the sixth one came up, Vivian, he hadn’t even been able to wait for them to explain who she was, which business associate she was related too, it just. Came out.

Or rather he came out. Spectacularly.

“I’M GAY!” Okay less spectacular initially, more manic desperation. He expected a few things to happen after he realised what he’d blurted out.

He expected anger, he expected disappointment, he half expected disownment, not fully expected, his mother would probably be on his side. He expected violence, judgement, demands of him to tell them it wasn’t true, or demands that he hide it, keep pretending for appearances sake. He’d heard the coming out horror stories.

He did not expect—

“Oh oh! What about Jonathan!! From Tennis club, honey you remember Jonathan right? Peter’s son?” His mother turning to look at his father, who’d turned a little pale. That was it, his father would be the one to blow up, his mother was in his corner that was sort of expected but his fa—

“Lynda he is not dating someone with the same name as me, that—no. No, I don’t think I’d recover if those thin walls at the chalet struck again.” Goddammit. “What about Timothy, Dorothy’s nephew? Didn’t she say she’d caught him with some punk boy on that family holiday to London?”

“Yes but she was trying to get points around the water cooler for being hip and homophobic, did you not hear what she called the poor boy? I’m not associating with Dorothy, good heavens.”

“I hadn’t heard, why have I not heard? Lynda we’re trying to create an inclusive work environment, I can’t have homophobic people working in HR!” And John was up, newspaper down, and off to his study to deal with Dorothy muttering about how he was sure the monthly office newsletter, which included the updated company values, would have weeded the bigots out by now.

“…Did my coming out just get someone fired?” Steve finally broke his shocked silence, his mothers attention turning back to him, her eyes wide, mouth puckered in a little, silent, oh.

“……Maybe.” His shoulders slumped, expression dropping to deadpan, she moved quick to reassure him “Don’t worry about it, Steven, she really wasn’t well liked.” It didn’t make him feel better… okay maybe it did, one less homophobe in the workplace. “Oooh, what about—”

It didn’t stop the matchmaking. The potential suitor pool just got bigger. Especially when he quietly, defeatedly corrected himself, revealing it was bisexual, not just gay, accepting his fate.

So it was no longer Vivian, Jessica, Bethany, Barbara, Carol, etc.

It was Vivian, Thomas, Jessica, Peter, Bethany, Robert blah blah blah

“Okay but you know some people would kill for that kind of support right?” Robin spoke the truth while rewinding the latest batch of returns. And maybe he was whining, maybe he was being overdramatic, his parents were supportive and were trying to make sure he’d be happy while they were gone on their long business trips.

Honestly they could have probably just let him get a dog. It’d have been easier. Less expensive than any of the people they were suggesting.

“I know… it’s just… they could at least try and find out what my type is. Instead it’s like they’re trying to throw a whole Indy gay bar at me in hopes that one person just kinda sticks. And now I’ve got a whole week with them coming up in some remote chalet, what if they bring someone, Robs? What if they bring someone and try an set us up an—”

“Can your parents just… adopt me?” She wasn’t listening “I’d kill to have the dating thing simplified for me, I can’t even talk to girls, you’ve got your mother doing all the work for you. I’d appreciate them, tell them I’d appreciate them.”

The door chimed, neither of them looked up, too engrossed in what they were doing. If a customer needed their help, they’d make it known.

They’d just adjust language used to not out themselves to strangers.

“You tell them! Pretty sure they’d find you someone.” Apparently his parents would be thrilled to help. He wanted to be happy about that, he really did, it was just exhausting having to fend off people who were interested in him but only for the last name, the business connection, the money. He wanted someone who wanted him for him, and none of those ‘potential suitors’ fit that bill. “Robbie I’m serious here, what if— what if they try when I can’t escape. I can’t spend a whole week in the woods with some stranger they’ve thrown at me, I think I might actually perish.”

“Then take a date.” Both young adults turned to look at the culprit behind the door chime.

“Henderson!” Steve’s favourite of the brat pack. Having met him while ferrying the kids home when Jonathan couldn’t pick Will up from Mike’s on a night when Steve had been hanging out with his at the time girlfriend Nancy. The kid was hilarious, a little bit of a know it all, but when you actually know it all, you’ve kind of earned the right to be obnoxious about it. “What did you hear?”

“That someone’s setting you up with people? Which is that a bad thing?” He directed the second question to Robin who shrugged and rolled her eyes.

“Not in my book lil man, not in my book.”

“Okay It’s not the attempt that’s the problem, it’s the quantity of attempts, and the quality of people they’re throwing at me! Quantity and quality are the issues here, people, it’s not that they’re doing it,”

“It’s that they’re doing it badly.” Dustin finished, Steve pointing at him with clicked finger guns.

“Exactly… and I don’t want my parents at my future wedding claiming they were responsible for getting us together cause that’d be weird! And pathetic. I want a fun first date story, a meet cute, or a ridiculous ‘yeah we were trapped in an elevator for like, three hours and bonded’ kind of story, I want an ‘I met them on a train’ or ‘they hit on me at the bar, and it just worked’ not an ‘my parents set us up in a remote cabin in the woods’, do you get me?”

“I can see your dilemma, but remote cabins in the woods can be really roman—"

“Nobody wants to hear about you and Suzie again! We get it, she’s your soulmate and future nerd wife you lucky little shithead.” Long distance and tricky as it may be, they were kind of perfect for each other. “Now what were you saying about taking a date?”

“Exactly that, take a date with you. Tell them you’re bringing someone and just… bring someone.” Dustin let his eyes flick to robin purposefully, quirking his head a little to subtly nod at her “you could take Robin” as if to say now’s your chance, dickhead, take it.

“Somehow I doubt Robin would be able to convince them that we were dating.”

“Cause we’re not.”

“And will not be.”

“At all.”

“Eh—"

“—ver”

“You guys make no sense.”

“We make perfect sense, my strange little child friend. You just don’t have all the information to make it make sense.” Robin wiggled her fingers at him as if it was some kind of mystery, it was to Dustin but that wasn’t important. “He does have a point though, you could take a date, there’s plenty of people in Hawkins who’d kill for a rich person get away, just gotta let them know that it’s a pretend date situation. Or… actually find a date. If you can.”

The "you suck" board flashed into his mind momentarily. He couldn’t. Not within the time frame he had. He was so far off his game his parents were matchmaking for him.

Dustin’s voice broke through his thoughts once more, offering salvation. “I know someone you could hire for that…” hallelujah, Dustin Henderson everybody.

Part 2

#PirateWrites #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet

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adventuringblind · 8 months

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Oscar the Matchmaker: Chapter Three

Oscar Jack Piastri x Reader x Max Verstappen

Summary: Jos overhear a conversation and the trio finds themselves in a confrontation

Warnings: Jos being Jos, Oscar throwing hands, implied homophobia and slurs

Notes: I definitely wasn’t listening to eye of the tiger while writing this…

Previous <-

Masterlist

It’s was only a matter of time until someone noticed. Max had been more then smiley as of late and it wasn’t just because he was dominating the sport. He’d fallen head over heal and looked like a love sick puppy.

His smile tends to grow a little extra when someone brings up either of his partners. He just blamed on the fact he thought they were doing well and had become friends with both.

Christian didn’t fall for it. He wasn’t team principal for nothing. He’s an observant man and had seen it in the way Max moved, his he talked, even in his driving.

Max found himself being pulled aside by Christian into a space where the people either didn’t bother them or didn’t care what they were talking about.

“Care to tell me what has you so happy lately?”

Max panics and stutters, then ends up just shrugging his shoulders. “The weather.” He mentally face palms at the terrible lie.

Christian laughs at him and grabs his shoulders. “It’s a miracle you can make it through interviews sometimes.” He releases him again before continuing. “Are you going to tell me the truth now.”

“First promise me you won’t be mad and that you won’t judge.”

“Would you like me to pinky swear it?”

Max rolls his eyes but continues one. “I’m in a relationship.”

“Well I already knew that part.” A skirt tugs on Christian’s lips. “Who is the lucky lass? Or is it a lad?” The playful eyebrow raise puts Max oddly at ease.

“Both actually.” His hands get clams and he wants nothing more to disappear at the confession. The fear of judgement giving him nervous energy.

“… Like two partners or gender-fluid?” The genuine curiosity in the older males voice made him relax. He wanted to know and was supportive it seems.

“Two Partners. Y/N and Oscar, actually.” He is hopeless. He can’t even say their names without smiling.

Christian is also smiling widely. “I’m so happy for you! Remember this is a safe space and if anyone says anything please let me know. If not afraid to tell someone off.”

Max feels the tension leave his body. His initial panic evaporating into think air. “Thank you, it means a lot really.”

“Are you three going to go public? If so then please tell me sooner rather then later so the team is prepared.”

“No plans for that right now, just figuring things out. But I’ll make sure to let you know.”

Despite their plans to not go public or let more people into their secret, someone was ,siting just around the corner.

Max texted them immediately after the conversation. They still had a few hours before the race so he wasn’t to worried about time.

Max: Christian knows

Y/N: … is he upset?

Max: No, he’s actually really supportive

Oscar: interesting turn of events

Max: you two aren’t mad with me?

Y/N: why would we be mad? Christian is basically your dad!

Oscar: we made a decision that we are disowning Jos

Max: I don’t think that’s how that works

Y/N: don’t care. He’s disowned.

Max chuckles at their comments. They are both younger then him but neither would hesitate to protect him from anything. Including his aggressive father.

He didn’t notice a problem at first. He thought it was normal until he got up to formula 1 and Daniel told him that it’s not. Christian and Seb followed after him. Soon Max was in a position where he had to come to terms with his childhood.

He’d yet to do that because despite it all, Jos is still his father and he loves him.

All that to say he wouldn’t be surprised if the female in their trio ended up punching him one day.

It had been an absolutely shitty race for her. She’s on the verge of tears when she’s getting ready to leave until Yuki comes sliding around the corner. “They have more stuff to talk about.” She can hear the annoyance in her his voice.

“What if we just run away.”

“I may be fast, but my legs are short. We’d never make it.”

She groans and sends a quick text to the boys telling them she is going to be late and they can leave without her. Instead of the response she was expecting, they said they’d wait for her by the paddock entrance.

She smiled reading the text, then locked her phone again.

Her legs feel heavy as she walks through the dark and almost deserted paddock. Her brain has already shut off and she wants nothing more then to curl up with her lovers and sleep until next year.

A pair of heavy footsteps fall in line behind her. She assumes it’s just leftover staff and continues her journey. That is, until she hears the thick Dutch accent of Jos Verstappen. The last person on the planet she wants to see.

“Can we talk for a moment?” He yells out to her.

“I’m late for something, sorry.” She doesn’t look at him. She fears if she does she might not be able to hold her tongue or hands and the last thing she wants to do it get in trouble.

It doesn’t take long for him to catch up. She blames her uncooperative appendages.

“We need to talk.” He grabs her bicep and she yelps in surprise.

“I really am la-“

“You and the Australian keep away from my son.”

She panics. Her breathing gets labored faster then she would’ve liked. Questions fill her mind of how he knows. She tries to yank her arms away but he tightens his grip.

“Never.” She spits. He used his free hand to wipe his face. She can feel him heating with anger as his movements become jagged. She readies herself for the possibility of a swing. At least if he hits her first then she can hit him back.

“Hey! Leave her alone!” The much more soothing Dutch accent yells from behind her.

“Is it true? You’re really lumping yourself in with this nonsense?” Max had almost forgotten why he doesn’t tell his father things. He’d had to relearn everything when he was finally able to spend time with people who wanted him to understand that the internalized homophobia that he’d grown up with was not okay in any sense.

“Yeah, I am.” Max keeps his distance. His father is prone to aggression and Max fears for the girl currently in his hold.

The fear and simultaneous relief flood through him as he pushes her straight to the ground. The look of pain and exhaustion in her eyes is hard to look at.

She doesn’t move. She can’t find the energy to do so.

“Your no son of mine. My son would never be a fa-“ He does not get the chance to finish his sentence. Oscar had connected his fist to the Dutch’s face and sent him stumbling backwards.

She could feel Oscar seething. She’d never seen him lose his temper. Ever. Since she’d known him. He could be cold and calculated but this was a whole new level.

She looked at Max who was now gently hugging Oscar from behind and trying to calm the anger behind the Australians eyes. He also looked at her for some sort of understanding. Neither of them had any clue what to do.

“Say it again. I fucking dare you.” Oscar held his gaze on the older man. It felt as if time had frozen around them. “You have no right to say such things.”

Oh. It clicked for her then. He’d done this before with one of her exes. A few of them actually.

It’s not like she’d never been with a female before. She’d been called that F slur before and it definitely didn’t feel right. Oscar had also punched them. There was no hesitation behind his swing either.

Jos just stares back at them and Max had no other ideas except to get Oscar away before he gets himself in trouble. She watches as he starts tugging him back towards the entrance. Stopping to give you a hand up. Then she held Oscars hand in hers the entire way back to the hotel. Despite his earlier anger, he held her hand so gently and occasionally placed kisses on her knuckles. Reciprocating the action to Max when they came to a stop sign or red light.

He’d still not settled down when they got to the hotel room. His frantic pacing and angry rant seemed to help, but only so much.

“Love, pretty sure there are other ways to help you get some of this energy out.” She purrs. Had she noticed max is turned on? Yes. Is she also turned on? Yes. Have both of them been whispering about the rage fueled Aussie being turned on? Again, yes.

He freezes and eyes both of them with a rather lustful gaze.

Sometimes the best cure to pent up energy is really good sex.

Max wakes up to the awful sound of his phone buzzing. The blissful feeling of his lovers tangled in the sheets with him now ruined by the terrible sound.

Still he looks at the caller ID and almost chokes when he sees Christian’s name on his phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey Max… I was wondering if you could shed some light on why your father called to tell me not to let, and I quote, ‘the deranged McLaren Australian’ anywhere near out garage?”

Max laughs. It’s probably not the right time and the other two are now awake and trying to tug him down into the bed, but he can’t help it. “Oscar punched him last night because he used the F word.”

“The F word? Doesn’t Oscar say fuck? I’ve heard him before I think.”

“I should clarify: the F slur.”

Silence falls from the other end of the line. For a moment Max things he lost connection until he hears Christian grumbling. “Tell Oscar he’s allowed in anytime he wants and your father will be receiving a strongly worded letter about how he’s not welcome back.”

Again, Max can only laugh at the situation and how it’s unfolded. He’s not complaining though. It’s nice knowing that he doesn’t always have to fight for himself.

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dontbesoweirdkira · 1 month

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A/N: I love platonic yandere Johnny Cage so much. Here’s Johnny obsessing over a new and upcoming talent. He wants to protect you and boost your career but he ends up going overboard with it.

Inspired by

Warnings: Yandere themes (stalking, murder, physical abuse and manipulation) blah blah blah it’s a very fun time for you!! :D

Request: open 24/7

Masterlist

I think we as a community all agree that Yandere Johnny Cage is absolutely batshit insane…I mean he’s already operating on a certain kind of time usually but it’s just cranked up to 1000% with you.

Everything in his life just has to be picture perfect, his hair, movies, cars, house, and…you. Especially you! He sees himself in you, full of life and absolutely beautiful! You will have the absolute best if you just do exactly what he says.😀👍

Don’t get me wrong, he absolutely adores the crap out of you and he truly means well. He’s trying his absolute best to take care of you, he’s just an emotionally unregulated fuck.

When Johnny saw your audition tape he just knew you were destined to become America’s next sweetheart. It’s so hard to come by a natural like you in today’s world so he’d be a fool to just let you go.

His career is steadily on the decline so why not try to save it by living vicariously through you. If his name is attached to the new hot shit then he’s sure to skyrocket back into fame.

Johnny coming to you with this deal at first glance was the dream! THE JOHNNY CAGE LIKES YOU?! He thinks you’re star material?? Who wouldn’t take up this one in a lifetime opportunity.

Press conferences, interviews, red carpet and product reviews…Johnny kept you booked with little to no free time.

There was no saying no to this aswell. Take a good look at what you signed sweetheart! You’re his property. You have a script to follow and you better follow it.

What you wear, the way you walk, talk and dress are all under his creative direction.

Just smile at the camera, y/n and say how he’s the best co-star in the entire world and how perfect it is working with for him!

He’d flip out so fucking bad if you even suggest you wanted to leave the spotlight.

He’s the main reason anyone ever even looked your way! Johnny is the “only one” who cares for you, don’t you think that he knows what’s best for you?

He brought the shirt on your back and the food in the fridge and if you want to be an ungrateful little cunt, he’ll take it away from you.

He’ll tell you how if you really didn’t want to be here, he’d just hire someone else to take your place. And not just as America’s sweetheart…as his too.

Yeah you're an adult and he technically has no legal rights over you once your contract is up but imagine the constant conditioning that you’re going to be nothing without him.

He set up everything in a way where you can’t escape. The house he “gifted” you is all under his name, so is that fancy car and even your cell phone.

Even though he consistently threatens to disown, replace and ruin you, he will go absolutely psychotic if you decide to ignore him.

Oh and that cell phone I mentioned earlier? He’s constantly tracking you with it. Has access to personal files and even a parental mode at his disposal.

The revival of his career is crumbling in front of his eyes…worst yet, the entire WORLD.

He’ll blow up your phone with tons of texts and voice messages, spend copious amounts of money on gifts to bribe you back, kick up the charm too and tell you he didn’t mean what he said and that he’s such a terrible mentor.

He cries how he just wanted a better life for you and how he just wants to do something great and if all of this work fails he’ll become even more of a joke.

If that doesn't work he’ll even go as far as to try to manipulate you by saying he’s going to terminate all of his projects, delete his social media and tell the world he’s such a horrible man and that he doesn’t deserve any of the fame he has because he’s hurt you.

Of course you come back and start doing as he says again, only for the cycle to repeat.

Johnny isn’t the absolute worst, he does protect you from any potential dangers out there. He works extremely hard to keep your image very clean and pure even though you’re in your 20's . As much as you hate basically being stuck in a girl next door persona, he explains how once you start becoming a sex icon like him…the exploitation becomes worse.

Johnny definitely has been through and seen a lot of shit so he’s got the right spirit but wrong execution.

He even beat the shit out of a producer and got arrested because he tried forcing himself on you.

Speaking of getting arrested for fighting, this is such a common occurrence for him that you hold onto some of his credit cards just in case you have to bail him out on any given day.

Has threatened to murder multiple people in great detail for making you uncomfortable…now I’m not saying he’s ever carried out those plans but have you ever seen any of those co-stars ever again? Eh..Johnny said they just weren’t working with the camera.

He will vet any jobs you want to take and hand pick the safest sets and crews for you to work with. Your real manager doesn’t even argue with him anymore, he just accepts the fact Johnny is the self proclaimed one.

Hey well at least your idol doesn’t interfere in your romantic life! He just has to run background checks, stalk their socials and inner circles, be there on the date…nothing major….

You just can’t hook up with anyone, y/n. Can you imagine what this would do to your image??

Don’t bring up the hypocrisy of him practically dating most of the tri-state area….in the past year!

Has thought about getting a conservatorship over you but has been rejected because if anyone needs one, it’s really him.

#johnny cage #yandere mortal kombat #Yandere Johnny cage #jonathan carlton #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mk1 2023 #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #johnny cage x reader #Yandere Jonny cage x reader #kung lao x reader #lui kang x reader #mortal kombat x reader

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hbyrde36 · 7 months

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STWG Drabble 9/19/23

Prompt: “We’re not family”

“We’re not family!” Dustin spit the words in Steve’s face, looming over his hospital bed with a scowl.

Steve's heart sank. Oh no, not Dustin too. “But, you said I was like a brother to you.”

“Maybe at one point you were, but then you let Eddie die. How could you possibly think things could ever be the same after that?”

Had he done that? Was Eddie dead, and was it somehow his fault? He couldn’t remember, it must have been the pain meds clouding his mind. No wonder the kid was so upset.

“I’m sorry, Dustin, I'm so sorry. You know I would have done anything to save him if I could have. Please, you have to know that.” Steve begged. He had so few people in his life that really cared about him, and his heart was breaking at the thought that he’d ruined things with his pseudo little brother. He’d already been disowned by his parents after he didn’t get into college, what more could he take?

“You know what I think?” Dustin began, with a most unpleasant smile on his face. “I think you wanted him to die. I think you were so jealous of him, so afraid that he was going to take me away from ,that you’d do anything to get him out of the picture.”

“No, NO! That’s not true. I liked Eddie! I cared about him! I swear! Why would you…why are you saying these things to me?” Steve cried.

Dustin scoffed. “You're lucky I'm even standing here right now. What good are you to me like this? To us? Bedridden and broken. You can’t even protect these kids you supposedly love now. You’re worthless, Steve. Might as well throw in the towel.”

Steve tried desperately not to fall apart, but what reason did he have to hold himself together now if even Dustin didn't want anything to do with him anymore?

That’s when he heard a familiar voice start screaming his name in the distance. Nancy. She was calling out to him but it sounded like she was a million miles away. Suddenly, he realized that nothing around him made sense. He shouldn’t be in the hospital, and what had Dustin just said about Eddie? Eddie was fine the last time Steve saw him, not ten minutes ago! The last thing he remembered was climbing the stairs to the attic in the Creel house. Robin had just tripped over a vine, he was trying to get to her to help when another one had wrapped itself around his throat.

“You know she’s only trying to save you out of guilt, Steve. She doesn’t love you, she doesn’t even like you.” Dustin-not-Dustin said, his voice dropping lower with every word spoken.

Vecna.

Steve jumped out of the bed on the opposite side and ran for the door. He threw it open and sprinted down the hall. The hospital was a ghost town, which he figured made sense considering none of this was real.

He looked around as he ran, desperate to find a way out. Max had described a portal opening up when she’d escaped Vecna’s clutches in the graveyard, but she’d had the music to guide her then. He knew neither he, Robin, or Nancy had brought a walkman with them into the Upside-Down.

He kept running anyway, desperate to get as much space between himself and Vecna as possible while he tried to think. He wondered what had happened with Max. Had he not taken the bait, or was Max… already dead?

The thought made him want to give up. To just lie down on the floor, curl up in a little ball, and let that bastard take him too, but Robin would never forgive him if he gave up now. He pushed on, rushing past empty room, after empty room, finding nothing helpful or useful.

The feeling of hopelessness became overwhelming but just when he was again considering admitting defeat, the world around him dissolved and he was plunged into darkness.

He woke with a gasp in Robin’s arms. She was rocking him, tears spilling down her face.

“Oh my god, Steve, you’re back!” She cried, squeezing him tightly.

“Where’s Nance?” He asked.

“She’s up in the attic finishing Vecna off. When we couldn’t wake you, we went up there to start the attack, hoping it would force him to let you go. Nancy thinks he was trying to get you and Max at the same time, and it left him too distracted and vulnerable. We got him Steve, it’s over.”

He sagged in relief. Vecna was dead. He was okay, it sounded like Max probably was too. That’s when he remembered what Dustin/Vecna had said about Eddie, and his blood ran cold.

Steve pushed himself out of Robin’s arms and to his feet, quickly grabbing his axe from where it had fallen. He flew down the stairs taking them two at a time and praying he wasn’t too late.

“Where are you going?” Robin shouted at his back.

He paused for only a second to explain. “I think Eddie and Dustin are in trouble, wait here for Nance and meet me back at the trailer!”

He found Eddie kneeling on the ground surrounded by dozens of dead demobats. His spear and shield had been tossed to the ground. He was breathing heavily, hands pressed tightly to a wound on his side. He was hurt, he was bleeding, but he was alive.

Steve started stripping out of his jacket as he approached. He tugged the t-shirt over his head and ripped it, trying to create bandages the same way Nancy had.

Eddie stared up at him with wide eyes. “Am I dead?”

“No.”

Steve pulled Eddie's hands away from the wound and pulled the shirt up so he could get a better look at it. It was pretty bad, but it wasn’t gushing. If they wrapped it tight, and got him to a hospital quickly, Eddie would be just fine.

“Are you sure? Because the way you just stripped out of those clothes for me is definitely making me feel like I've died and gone to heaven, big boy.”

Steve blushed hard. It was just the blood-loss, he reasoned. Eddie didn’t know what he was saying, so he ignored it.

“You’re gonna be fine, Eddie. Hold that shirt up for me so I can wrap this.”

Eddie did as he was asked, but his gaze never wavered from Steve’s chest. He was pretty sure he even caught the other boy licking his lips at one point, and it definitely didn’t cause warmth to start pooling in his stomach.

Steve fought hard to concentrate on his work, but he had a feeling that as soon as this was over he was going to need an emergency bathroom floor meeting with Robin.

#stwgdailyprompt #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic

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presidentbungus · 9 months

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i’m still trying to decide what exactly demo does after the war. i do think he breaks the degroot cycle and i do think there’s a chance his mum disowns him for it. i think he realizes he’s too miserable to ruin a kid pretty early on in adulthood and decides it’s worth it to sit through every long lecture about bloodlines and grandchildren over birthing a child into a loveless marriage and making it just as miserable as he is (which, he eventually comes to terms with, is exactly what happened to him)

it’s hard. cleaving yourself from your family like that, your clan, the people that brought you into the world and half-raised you and filled your head with all kinds of funny ideas about honor. after the war i thjnk he just shuts himself off from the world and sulks for months and months and months regretting his choice, knowing he can never go back, figuring this is the path of unluck he was following all along, destined to die alone in his thirties to alcohol poisoning in a huge mansion he has all to himself. eventually, though, someone does come along. soldier or scout or engie, in town for a visit and they won’t take no for an answer when tavish tries to tell them he’s moved on and he’s not really in the mood for a drink. it’s just one night, they just go get smashed at a random dive bar off the street and probably end the night in jail, but he wakes up the next morning and realizes that whatever it was tipped the single upright nail barely keeping aloft this whole massive pile of misery and self-pity and for the first time in months he wants to live. he wants to know people. he wants to try to rebuild what he had even if it’ll never be the same again

i think he just packs his bags and moves closer to someone he knows, honestly. makes a few calls and picks up and goes closer to wherever everyone else he knew in the war fucked off to, the closest thing he ever had to a family (even compared to the people that raised him), and starts to rebuild his life from scratch. it’s hard but he’s got at least one friend near him who’s probably in need of a project anyway, and he finds out quickly he had much more family than he thought as his coworkers start becoming parents and uncles of their own, and he never ends up having his own kids but he might as well considering how many times he finds himself godfathered, after everything he’d done for everyone, which turns out to be much more than he thought.

i think eventually he manages to get a job teaching high school chemistry or something stupid like that. not for anything resembling loose change, but it’s something to do, and there’s just a little bit of pride in knowing his mum’s probably doing flips in her grave every time he goes into work. he’s not great at teaching what he’s supposed to, but somehow the kids always come out of the class scoring twice the national average on whagever standardized tests they have to take, and he’s basically paying the school to work there below board anyway, buying buildings and funding school supply initiatives with the millions he has stocked up from all that thankless work in his twenties and thirties. even if he doesn’t have a kid of his own he makes himself a part of so many kid’s lives, not just teaching but building relationships, helping with homework and checking on home lives and showing up on the soccer field afterschool to cause a disturbance. and well it’s hard to feel like you’re a horrible useless person when every student you pass on the way to the teacher’s lounge beams at you and tells you about their day. it’s not much to a lot of people but it’s everything to him, finally something he can do that has a tangible positive effect on people’s lives, and that gives him a reason to stay upright, too, keep on trucking, keep being a positive example for every bright eye that looks up to him. for the first time in his life he feels like he’s worth something, without pretending to be something he’s not, bending over backwards in work he doesn’t enjoy to please someone who never loved him for anything he was in the first place. ok that’s it i think i have to go cry now

#bungus headcanons #tf2 #tf2 demoman #copied mostly directly from discord im sure you can tell #IM NORMAL ABOUT HIM. IM AVERAGE.#and none of this is projecting whatsoever. i don’t even know what you’re talking about

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readyplayerhobi · 9 months

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Because, I Love You | 12

; Genre: Fluff, angst

; Word Count: 5.1k

; Warnings: Fatphobia, ageism, mentions of miscarriage

; Synopsis: According to society, Jeon Jungkook should not be with you. He should be with a younger, hotter and thinner girl instead of wasting his time on you. It’s a good thing Jungkook doesn’t care what society thinks then.

; A/N: Soo...you’ve been waiting for this one for like...a week now. And it’s here...the reason why Jungkook disowns his own mum! If you enjoyed this, please reblog so it can get on other people’s screens and I’d love to hear your thoughts in a comment or an ask - either one is great for me and let’s me know you like this fic still! Your feedback keeps encouraging me to write after all this time.

; Masterlist

"You're totally gonna cry." Jimin teases, though he sounds happy and not malicious. His words are lightened even more by the broad grin he's wearing as he smoothes out Jungkook's lapel once more.

"Fuck yeah, I am. I cry at anything, seeing the love of my life in her wedding dress walking down the aisle towards me? If I'm not blubbing like a two-year-old who's had candy taken from them then punch me till I am." Jungkook is rambling, and he can tell. But he's so damn nervous and excited. Nervited. Excous. Whole new words.

Junghyun, his older brother, laughs loudly and pats Jungkook on the shoulder. Well, it feels more like he's punching him but Jungkook will just consider it a pat as it's done in good faith. Jimin was his best man, but Junghyun had agreed to be a groomsman.

The two of you had decided on a smaller wedding, to save money and make it more intimate. So you only had two bridesmaids and two groomsmen. Momo, your best friend who'd moved back in the last year, was your maid of honour while Hana, another close friend, was a bridesmaid. Thankfully, your friends had been understanding as to why they weren't all invited to be in the bridal party - because Jungkook wanted his brother and best friend, so logically you needed two to match - and were now sitting comfortably in the chairs that had been placed out for the day.

You'd also decided that you didn't want your bridesmaids to walk down the aisle, do they were already waiting for you. The whole day was planned to be simple, fun and intimate. You'd both chosen a beautiful hotel as your venue and were marrying in the gardens, with the dinner and reception later to be half in the other part of the gardens and the hall that had been rented.

Chewing on his lip ring, he looks towards the door that'll you'll be coming through for perhaps the millionth time and he jumps on the spot for a moment. He's got too many feelings, too much energy. He just wants you to turn up so he can marry you.

"Calm down, you're gonna be napping like a toddler if you keep moving around." Jimin chuckles, pressing down on Jungkook's shoulders to get the younger man to stop moving. It works to stop him from hopping, but his fingers are tapping on his thigh instead now.

"He doesn't need to move to nap, you know that." Junghyun snorts in amusement, but it's cut short by the sudden start of the music.

For a second, it doesn't register in Jungkook's head but then he realises - it's your music, the music for you to walk down the aisle.

"She's coming!" He squeaks, and if he didn't have a million thoughts in his head then he'd be embarrassed at how pitched his voice had gone. But he couldn't care now, not when you were coming!

The music soars, and he recognises it as from your favourite video game. You hadn't let him hear it beforehand, had just let him know that he'll recognise it and…he did. It makes him laugh it registers.

You really picked An End Once And For All from the Mass Effect 3 soundtrack. It was your favourite game, and he knew that some would be a little confused at the unusual choice but he loved it. You'd opted for it to be played solely on piano, and he eyes the piano player for a second.

Great, now he was going to forever cry when he heard this song.

The door opens and it's like time stands still for a moment. You're standing there on your own for a moment, having decided that you were a modern woman and didn't want anyone to walk you down the aisle. The bouquet in your hands is held tightly, a deep purple ribbon that matches the colour scheme of the wedding trailing down.

Slowly, you start to walk towards him, passing row after row of your friends and family. Your dress is beautiful - folds of soft ivory silk with delicate lace patterns overlaying it, the lace trailing up over your bodice and shoulders before twirling down your arms. Each movement has the dress kicking out slightly, and he notes the tiny glimmers of crystals that have been carefully woven into the material.

If an angel got married, Jungkook is pretty sure she'd look like you.

Finally, you're standing next to him as you hand off your bouquet to Momo and smile brightly at him. He tries to smile back, but he's been crying so damn hard that all he manages is for his lips to quiver pathetically. Sniffling, he wipes at his eyes frantically.

"Sorry," He mumbles, "You're so beautiful, I love you."

That sets him off again, and you laugh softly before reaching up to wipe away his tears. You're looking at him so fondly, he can't even bring himself to care that he's currently bawling his eyes out. At least Jimin doesn't need to hit him.

"I love you, too." Gently, you clean his face while quiet snickers rumble through the guests at his crying. Nothing malicious, just amused and cooing over how soft he is for you.

"Are you both ready?" The officiant asks, raising a brow at you both as he tries to hide his smile. Jungkook guesses he must see this all the time, and surely it's a good sign for a wedding if the guy cries, right?

Both of you nod at him, and Jungkook takes your hand and squeezes. He's actually getting married, he's going to have a wife in a few minutes. You're going to be his wife.

"Good afternoon, everyone. I hope everyone's excited for today, which sees us witnessing the union of Mr Jeon and Miss Y/L/N for love." Jungkook zones out as the officiant gets through the legal talk and starts to say something about the love between the two in front of him. Ironic, given Jungkook only met the guy yesterday.

But he's too busy staring at you in simultaneous amazement and love. You're here, you're marrying him. You'll be Mrs Jeon, his wife. You're so damn beautiful.

"If there is any person here present who knows of any lawful impediment to this marriage, then they should declare it now."

He's busy smiling at you, so busy that he doesn't even register the words spoken out loud. Not until he notices the way the space has become quiet, the silence deafening suddenly.

Frowning, he looks at the officiant who looks both shocked and confused. Then he looks at you, who mirrors the emotions, though there's also some horror in there too.

Finally, his brain catches up and he twists to stare at his mom. His mom, who had never liked you and who had pitched a fit when he'd announced his wedding. His mom, who had sworn she wouldn't come, only to turn up here anyway.

"What?" Jungkook asks, the confusion in his voice making him sound more like a child. This is what he feels because he can't understand why his mom is objecting.

"I said, I object. I don't approve of my son marrying some old, fat woman. I've never approved of her, and I've tried repeatedly to bring him back but she's got her claws so deep into him. I don't want my son to marry a woman six years older than him, who's probably too old and fat to have children now. Not when my Jungkook deserves so much better. You should be marrying a doctor or a lawyer, not her. So I object, I don't want her in my family and I will never accept her as a daughter-in-law." His mom finishes her tirade, her cheeks red with anger and her face twisted with bitterness. He doesn't recognise her.

Jungkook was frozen in place, his eyes wide and jaw dropped as his mind blanked out. What had just happened? He didn't understand, he couldn't understand - this kind of stuff didn't happen in real life, right?

Yet here he stood, holding your hand tighter than he meant to as he stared in disbelief at his mom. The woman who'd raised him with so much love and affection, who was now unrecognisable to him. He wasn't the only one, his dad was also staring at her in horror whilst his grandparents looked shocked. And that was nothing compared to everyone else.

Jungkook was pretty sure that your parents were going to punch his mom, and frankly, he would let them. But that wasn't the important bit right now.

Turning to you, the love of his life wearing the most beautiful ivory dress and ready to legally tie yourself to him, he felt his heart break. Tears were banked in your eyes, and he saw the slightest quiver to your lips, the movement replicated by your fingers clasped in his own.

No, no.

"Is there somewhere we can go for a few minutes? This won't affect anything, right? I just…I need to sort this out and I don't want Y/N to hear." He whispered to the officiant, who looked like he'd never seen this happen at a wedding before. Just what Jungkook wanted, for his wedding to be a fucking Reddit worthy story.

Still, the officiant nodded and reached out for you, carefully taking your hands from Jungkook. There's a brief moment where you fight, but Jungkook begs you quietly to go, that he'll be there as soon as he can and that he loves you, and most importantly…that he's so sorry.

Once you've disappeared through a door back into the hotel, he rounds with fury in his eyes. And god, he wishes he didn't cry when he was angry.

"What. The. Fuck." He spits, storming to the front row of his seats where his mom looks victorious and his dad looks sorrowful. It's only when she takes in the anger that practically vibrates in his body that she pauses. She loops her arm through his dad's for support, but his dad lets go and steps away with contempt in his eyes.

"I don't know why you're so surprised. You've known I don't approve of her for years now, and I've always let you know. You deserve so much better, someone who will give you beautiful babies and be on your level." There's a shout from your side that gets muffled quickly, and Jungkook notes that your mom is currently being dragged to the door you'd exited by your family. He wants to apologise, but he has to sort this out.

"Shut up, just SHUT UP. Why are you so fucking bitter? Y/N is perfect for me, I love her so much and you have no right to have any opinion here. None. It's my life, not yours. Fuck, I didn't even want you here. You're only here because Y/N wanted to give you another chance and you…you fucking…" He cracks then, swallowing hard as he finally starts to cry from embarrassment and hurt for you.

Turning away for a moment, he presses his hand to his mouth hard as tears fall and he looks up at the beautiful sky. She'd made you cry, at your wedding ceremony. She'd insulted you on things that he knew you'd worked hard to overcome, yet deep inside you were still insecure about. In front of all your friends and family, along with his.

Letting out a shaky breath, he turns back around and lets his mom see his absolute devastation. She had no idea what you'd had to work through to learn to love yourself, or the way you'd made yourself vulnerable to him when letting him love you. She had no idea about the pain of the struggles you'd had to get pregnant or the fact that you'd now had two miscarriages. There was so much she didn't know because he'd known that she'd use it to hurt you. Yet she'd managed to use it anyway.

"Get out. I want you out." He says, his voice shaking and quiet but the words are like gunshots. His mom's eyes widen in shock, and he realises that she's genuinely surprised he's taken a stand. In her fantasy world, she'd speak her peace and he'd realise he was wrong and come back to the fold.

It makes him angry and he grits his teeth.

"Get. Out. Leave, go. I don't want you here, I don't fucking want you anywhere. This is it, I'm done. You want me to pick? Fine, I pick her. Get out of my wedding." He spits, pointing to the door that'll take her out of the wedding, and in a just world out of his life.

"Jungkook, you can't mean tha-"

"GET OUT. Dad, please. I can't…please." He begs his dad, knowing that his dad has always been kind to you and has tried to be the barrier between his mom and her horrible views. There's a second of hesitation before his dad nods, grasping his wife's arms firmly. She's started to rant at them both, jerking to get herself free.

Before he manages to push her into the aisle, his dad stops and gives him a tight smile.

"I'm so sorry, I really am. Please let Y/N know I'm so sorry about this, I think she'll be a great daughter-in-law to me." His compassionate words make Jungkook smile weakly as he nods, before moving to stand in front of everyone.

There's still shock and uncertainty on everyone's faces and he feels so embarrassed, so humiliated that they've all witnessed this. He can't even imagine how you feel.

"I'm sorry you've all had to see that. I, erm, I'm gonna go see Y/N…I don't know if the wedding will carry on. I don't know…it's up to Y/N. I'm sorry." He doesn't know what to say, and he hates how lost he feels.

"Tell her we're sorry too, and that we'd still love to see you both get married if she wants." Jimin says, his best man resting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing reassuringly. There are murmurs of agreement from the crowd, and Jungkook wants to cry from the reassurance everyone gives.

Instead, he nods his head and hurries after you. He'd have been confused as to where you'd been taken if it wasn't for your dad standing outside another door. Jungkook feels about 10cm tall as he walks up to him, his shoulders hunching up to his ears as shame flushes through him. It wouldn't surprise him if your dad hit him, even if it had been his mom who'd said everything.

Stopping in front of him, Jungkook opens his mouth to apologise but he's cut off by strong arms pulling him into a hug. It's a little awkward, with Jungkook's hands dangling uselessly.

"I'm sorry." Your dad says, his tone full of compassion and it confuses him.

"Why are you apologising? I should be, I'm so sorry you had to hear that…I-I don't know what," Looking down, he frowns in frustration. "I've kicked her out…of my life too, hopefully."

"It's not your fault, a child isn't responsible for what their parents say, okay? You love my daughter, I know that. She's in with her mum," He states, nodding his head to the door. "I'm sorry this happened, you don't deserve it."

Jungkook's throat tightens, and all he can do is nod before going through the door. It's a small receiving room inside, with a fancy-looking couch taking up most of the space. He doesn't even understand the purpose of this room, but he doesn't care. Not when you're sat on the couch, your dress splayed out around you with your mom sitting beside you, her arm around your shoulders.

His heart breaks again when he sees the tears on your face, and he feels like shouting in anger at his mom once more. But he doesn't, because this isn't about her.

Glancing at your mom, he notes the upset and pain in her eyes and gives her a tiny smile. She stands, moving over and hugging him as well.

"I'm sorry about all this." He can tell there's more she wants to say, but she restrains herself with a glance back at you. Once she's left the room, Jungkook moves over to you and frowns, pressing his lips together before crouching next to you.

You stare blankly at your hands, tear after tear following well-laid tracks down your face. He knew that you'd opted for waterproof makeup, but even that wasn't able to keep up with the amount you were crying. Not to mention whenever you wiped them away.

"Y/N…" He whispered, feeling useless. It was his mom, and he hadn't seen you cry like this before. You'd cried in pain at the loss of your babies twice now, you'd cried at the fact that a year of passively trying had yielded only one miscarriage and nothing else, you'd occasionally cried when you'd got so overwhelmed from stress but never like this.

Never the quiet and defeated way you were crying now, the slump to your shoulders and the pained look in your eyes breaking his heart. He hated that he couldn't fix this immediately.

Kneeling on the floor - he didn't care if he got his rented tuxedo dirty - he reaches out and takes your hand. Your engagement ring is on your right hand for today, waiting for the wedding band that would be placed onto your left ring finger before joining it once more.

"I'm so sorry." He goes to say something else but surprises himself by breaking down. It annoys him that he's crying when you're the one who suffered such horrible insults, but his heart is aching for you and he's so confused and upset.

Pressing his face into the soft fabric of your dress, he lets out a quiet sob.

"Don't cry, please don't cry." You whisper, running your fingers through his hair in that soothing way he loves. He should be comforting you, and he feels annoyed at himself like he's letting his mom win by letting you baby him and comfort him.

"I should've known, I should've pushed back on inviting her. She's never gonna change, she's just so bitter and cruel. She's not the mom I knew." Jungkook says, sniffling as he looks up at you. At the woman he loves so much, he didn't even know it was possible to love like this.

"Maybe she's right," You whisper, your voice so thin and broken, and he doesn't get a chance to refute before you continue speaking. "I love you, and I've never loved someone so much but…I've never really felt worthy of you. I try to push those thoughts aside, but…you know what it's like. When those negative thoughts get in your head and it wiggles in. Sometimes I just look at you and wonder why you're here…why me? You're younger and ridiculously good-looking and in shape, with plenty of money and you're so damn kind and fun. Why me? I never really understood and you always showered me with love so I just ignored it but…everything she said is something I've already hurt myself with by saying before."

He stares at you in horror, and hatred for his mom swirls in his gut. All the shit she'd spouted had been stuff he'd heard before, and he knew that you'd asked yourself it sometimes. You'd even asked him outright on occasion, but hearing the defeated way you agree with his mom leaves him heartbroken.

"No, no don't listen to her. She's just a bitter and hateful woman because she can't control her son anymore and that I won't follow the life she thought I'd have. I don't care about what she said, she's wrong. You're the best thing to happen to me." He pleads, and he genuinely doesn't know how to resolve this. Fighting negative thoughts is a battle that many lose, and he's terrified that you're being forced to confront such awful ones on what should've been such a happy day.

"What if she is right? I mean…I'm already struggling to give you a baby and the problem is more likely to be me than you. You're young and in great shape, whereas I'm older and overweight. What if we can never have kids and it's all because of me? And she's right that you could be with someone younger and prettier, you get hit on all the time and like…what if one of those girls is who you're meant to be with? What if they could give you a baby immediately? You're so…perfect, and I'm not. I know that. People don't think I'm pretty, I'm fat, I don't like wearing makeup, I'm opinionated, I'm older than you, I don't shave all the time-"

"Stop, stop, please stop," Jungkook begs, his voice breaking as tears fall so fast. "I don't care what my mom thinks, I don't. And I know that's a luxury you can't have, but please…stop telling me what I should think. I don't care what other people think, and I don't want you to put their opinions onto me. I love you, I love everything about you and I love all the bits you don't love. I think you're beautiful, and I genuinely don't care about your weight. If I did, I would've said something or just never approached you. I love that you have opinions and you're willing to say them, it's hot as fuck to me. I love that you're confident enough in yourself to not wear makeup and shave all the time, it doesn't bother me. I've always said that I love the confidence that you have that comes from being older, that you have your life put together and don't have to rely on me,"

"I love your smile, I love your hands, I love your face, I love your laugh, I love your jokes, I love you. And what if I'm the problem? What if I have slow swimmers, or not enough? What if they're weak? Maybe a younger girl would get pregnant instantly, but I don't want that. I want you. If I'm gonna have a baby, then I want it with you. If we never have babies, then as long I'm with you, then it's fine. I love you, and it's killing me that you have these thoughts and you're having to have them on today of all days. Today should be happy, and I'm so sorry that it's not. Please…believe me. I love you." He begs, kissing your fingers as if he's trying to press his feelings into you by force.

Silence falls, and he gets the sense that it's not a negative kind of quiet, but more a contemplative one as you think through what he's said. Being on his knees and begging you to believe his love wasn't what he expected on his wedding day, but then he also hadn't ever expected his mom to show how ugly she is.

Finally, you shift your hands in his until you can cup his cheek. Immediately, he presses into your touch like a sun-starved flower meeting the morning rays of light. He doesn't notice the small smile you give him, doesn't even realise he's closed his eyes at your touch until he hears the sharp exhale of your laugh.

Looking up at you - your dress looks even more beautiful on you this close - he takes in the way your tears have slowed. Taking in a deep breath, a little shakier than it would've been at any other time, you lean forward and lightly kiss him on the forehead.

Before he can even say anything, you're already rubbing away the lipstick mark that had been left and he feels hope spark in his chest once more. You've both been through a lot, and you've done it together. This was just another obstacle, right?

"You're such a good man, Jungkook." You murmur, opening your arms slightly in invitation. He takes it immediately, rising to sit on the couch next to you. A yelp of surprise leaves you as he carefully lifts you onto his lap, a grunt leaving him with the effort and he feels fear flash through him. What if you thought he thought you were too heavy with that noise?

But you giggle, and the noise soothes his worries.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, Jungkook hugs you as tightly as he can without ruining your dress and presses his head into the space between your neck and shoulder. Breathing in deeply, he takes in the soft scent of your favourite perfume and the lingering smell of your peach body wash, all with the unique smell underneath it all that was just you.

"I'm not that good. You do complain at me for leaving the empty milk cartons in the fridge, and for not cleaning the sink after I brush my teeth, and for always eating the chips that you wanted, and-" You cut him off with a laugh, kissing him as he smiles at you happily.

"Shut up, you know what I meant." Jungkook grins before nodding, kissing your cheek and making a face at the gross taste of the makeup on it. He doesn't say anything, though, but he notes the way you smile and wipe his lips clean.

"I know, and I don't want you to like…idolise me. But I also don't want you to listen to my asshole of a mom. I kicked her out, by the way. My dad said sorry, I can imagine there's gonna be a big ass fight when they get home and I'm glad. She needs some reality." Pursing his lips, he half wishes he could see his mom get put in her place. At least, he hopes his dad does that.

"He doesn't need to apologise, it's not his fault. Same as it's not your fault." You muse, your gaze lifting before you begin to clean up his hair. He can only assume it's looking a bit rough right now, what with how much he was pulling it outside.

"Will you believe that, too?"

"Why wouldn't I? I invited her to try and build bridges between us both, but she's made her feelings clear. It annoys me that she's made me cry and humiliated us both, but that was what she wanted. So…I'm not over it, I'm definitely not over it. I still want to run away and curl up and cry. I've no doubt that I'm gonna have some depressive relapses now, which I'm totally looking forward to, but her need to be cruel is not my fault, or your fault, or your dad's." Jungkook wonders if it would be too much to fall to his knees and worship you right now.

He's always known that you were level-headed and confident, it was one of the reasons he fell for you. The age difference that sometimes worries you has let you wrangle your inner demons and learn to understand and love yourself, so it doesn't surprise him that you're bouncing back so quickly. It also isn't a shock that you're so pragmatic about your mental health, though he's fully prepared for the tears that will come.

But this level of reasoning, after such a shocking event, is surprising even to him. Your wedding was interrupted by his mom, who proceeded to personally insult you in front of those you love and here you are…less than half an hour later and already laughing with him.

God, if he hadn't loved you before…

"You're amazing, you know that?" Jungkook laughs, leaning back slightly and just marvelling at you. Your makeup is a little ruined, and your dress isn't nearly as neat and pristine as it had been, yet you've never been more beautiful to him.

"Is everyone still out there?" You ask, and he hears the soft tremor you try to keep out. As resilient as you are, you're still a person with feelings at the end of the day, and even he feels uncertain at the thought of going back out to friends and family who will be concerned and shocked.

"Yeah, they are. Or should be. I mean, it's up to you but…they've said they'd love to still see us get married. It's why they're all here, and they're not assholes like my mom. But if you don't feel up to it then…we could do the vows in here, or something? Or…well, we could postpone it, if you wanted." He really, really doesn't want to postpone it. Jungkook had woken up this morning excited to marry you, and the thought of going to bed without your ring on his finger made him feel sad.

Pushing up from his lap, you move over to the door and cross your arms whilst an outraged look paints your face.

"Are you kidding? I'm not postponing our wedding, not unless you want to. Your mom is a bitch, but not even she can make me willing to lose the thousands we've spent on this day. Plus, I really wanna marry you. We're not letting her win, okay? Fuck her." Lifting your chin, you get a distinctly obstinate look on your face and he can't help but laugh.

"Yeah, fuck her. I'll tell everyone and sort it out with the officiant. Do you want me to send Momo in, there's no mirror if you're wanting to touch up or anything." He asks, referring to your best friend and maid of honour who had recently moved closer. While your mascara and eyeliner have done a valiant job of holding up, it's still pretty obvious you've been crying and Jungkook doesn't know enough about makeup to help you fix it up.

Taking a deep breath for stability, you nod and smile at him.

"Yes, please. Give us five minutes or so, and say sorry to the officiant for me, too?"

Moving over to you, Jungkook grins and lightly cups your face in his hands. You smile back at him, and he knows that you'll probably both need to go through some therapy after today but taking control again feels good. Plus, as you said - he wasn't going to let his mom win.

"I love you." He states, before giving you a quick kiss.

"Love you, too. Let everyone know that if someone else does something to ruin today, then I will punch them. And I don't care if I don't know how to hit properly, I've reached the limit of shit I'll take today."

"It's okay, I do know how to hit properly so I'll do it for you."

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ijustreallylovethem · 1 year

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Can I request y/n and mark estapa have a 3 year old and it’s just like the team baby and they just all hang out and do really cute stuff together!!

wait i’m doing this as a headcanon because i have an idea

you had your baby the summer after high school

the guy was a random hookup who didn’t want a kid at eighteen so you were on your own

well, your parents didn’t disown you or anything but you were the lone parent

you weren’t sure how well college was going to work so you took a gap year

after a year, you decided to give it a try

you ended up meeting mark when being assigned to do a project together

he asked you out after you turned it in and you heart fluttered before it dropped

you informed him that you had a kid and he took a moment but told you he didn’t mind

you went on a few dates but he had yet to meet your kid

you weren’t sure you were ready for that

but you didn’t show up to class and you weren’t answering his texts or calls so he decided to go over and check on you

luckily he knew where you lived since he had dropped you off after your dates

he knocked on the door and you opened it a few minutes later with a scowl

it dropped once you realized who it was

“mark? what are you doing here?”

“you weren’t in class and you didn’t answer so i just wanted to check in.”

“fuck, sorry. danny is sick so he couldn’t go to daycare. i just got him to sleep so i haven’t had time to look at my phone.”

he heard cries coming from inside the house and he could see you sigh

“do you want some help?”

“what?”

“i don’t know anything about sick kids but i can make you some lunch. i can whip up a mean box of macaroni.”

the cries grew louder so you stepped aside and mark made his way in.

“don’t worry about cooking, and don’t mind the mess. i’ll be back in a minute hopefully.”

danny was impossible to get to sleep so you brought him out to the living room.

you pulled up disney plus and settled on the couch, danny fussing until his eyes caught the beginning of the jungle book

mark watched the little boy, completely enamored

it didn’t take long for danny to doze off and then mark was whispering

“this is danny?”

you nodded

“he’s usually bouncing off the walls with energy and he’d be babbling your ear off.”

“well i can’t wait to meet him when he feels better. do you need anything?”

“actually, could you grab that blanket?”

you pointed to a blanket covered in tonka trucks draped over the back of the recliner and mark was quick to get up and grab it

he draped it over danny and then made his way back to his spot on the other side of the couch

“sorry, i know we were supposed to go out again tonight but i don’t think it’s going to happen.”

“that’s okay. i’m having a great time watching the jungle book”

it was silent for a bit

“hey y/n? i was going to ask you on our date later but since it’s been moved to now… do you want to be my girlfriend?”

“you really want all of this?”

two years later and you’re sitting in the hockey box, watching mark help danny shoot a puck into the net on one side of the rink while luca and rutger shot on the other side

it hit the post and went out but mark still cheered

“that was so close, dude! try again.”

danny took another shot, missing the net entirely that time

“awe man, that’s okay. try it again, bud.”

later that night after danny fell asleep, you and mark were laying in bed

it had been silent for a while but neither of you were asleep

“hey y/n?”

“hmm?”

“what would you say if i asked to adopt danny?”

you turned around to face him, finding him serious and a bit nervous

“you really want to?”

“of course i do. i love you guys so much.”

“well, i need to see a ring before that happens,” you half-joked.

mark smirked, pulling you closer

“don’t worry, i’ll be getting both of you soon enough”

“oh really?”

“just think about wearing my jersey but the last name on your back is yours too”

“yeah? you like that idea?”

“gonna get a mini one for danny too.”

“you’re too cute,” you told him, leaning in to give him a kiss

#blurb #mark estapa #umich hockey

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guess-my-next-obsession · 1 year

Text

August — Chapter Four

pairing: frankie morales x f!ofc (rebecca herrera)

warnings: NSFW 18+, protected sex, loss of virginity, secret relationship, age gap relationship, risk of getting caught and all that jazz

words: 4.5k

series masterlist

“Sam—“ Becca held her hand out as though to stop him from thinking, her face full of worry, pale as a ghost as she watched her cousin staring at her and her secret lover.

“Oh ho ho ho!” He covered his mouth with his hand, laughing in shock at the pair—caught red handed.

“Sam, please,” she stepped forward, Frankie walking with her even though he felt paralyzed with anxiety.

“You…and Frankie? How? When? Why?” He continued chuckling as he watched her turn to Frabkie, eyes desperately searching his for advice on what to say.

“Listen, Sam, I know you probably think I’m some awful guy—“

“What? No.” He chuckled sincerely and stepped closer to the two of them. “I like you man, I’m just…with Becca!? I’m gonna keep your secret, Bex, I just…my cousin? You have seen her in the morning, right?”

“Wait, so you’re not going to tell everybody?” She asked, ignoring his insulting questioning along with Frankie. Sam shook his head and chuckled again.

“Fuck no! Your romantic life is none of my business. Besides, this is a big land for you, ‘cuz. A pilot! I would’ve thought you’d be fucking a busboy or a little nerd or something.” He stepped back and shook his head, looking at the two of you with amusement. “Man, never woulda called it. How fun.”

“So you don’t think they’ll take it well?” Becca couldn’t help but seize the opportunity and ask her older, much more experienced cousin for his opinion.

“My dad would be fine with it, I think.” He shrugged, and Frankie began to play over the scenario in his mind. Of course, only the worst case scenario seemed to be imaginable at the moment. “But your parents? Your mom would kill Frankie and your dad would kill you.”

“Right…” She nodded, swallowing thickly. She was fine with getting disowned, or at least that’s what she told herself, but the last thing she wanted was for anyone to look at Frankie in a bad light. He was good. A good man who only ever seemed to care and spread love around like it was easy. He didn’t deserve to be ridiculed and insulted by her overprotective mother and father.

“Well, this has been a real treat. Frankie, my guy, I don’t see it. But you seem happy.” Frankie gave him a forced smile, nodding at him in hopes he’d leave. “And Bex, good on you, kid. Who woulda thought you had it in ya?”

“Okay, Sam. You can go now.” She rolled her eyes and rubbed her temples, watching as he walked past them and into a dive bar. Once they were alone again, she face planted against Frankie’s chest, groaning. Frankie leaned down and placed a kiss onto the top of her head.

“Yeah, that was rough.” He rubbed her back, fighting back a chuckle that had only just come to surface. “But, silver lining…someone knows now. And he reacted—well, he reacted like expected, but not poorly.”

“He has two brain cells! Of course he didn’t care!” She groaned again, making him laugh as he hugged her close, swaying her as he surveyed their surroundings. Becca lifted her head and rested her chin on his chest, frowning at him. “I don’t want my parents to hate you.”

“They don’t.” He furrowed his brows and took in the genuine concern in her eyes, holding her face in his hands. “Hey, they’re not going to find out. Okay? We can tell them when we’re ready.”

“And what happens if I’m never ready?” She asked, Frankie being left clueless for once. He took his time looking at her—so young, so much to still learn, so much she felt she still owed the world.

For a moment, it all almost felt wrong, just because of the sheer amount of life he’d gotten to experience. He knew at his age that none of it really mattered—her family reacting poorly or well. Her life was her own to do whatever she wanted with it, but she just didn’t know that quite yet.

“Then I guess it’ll just be our secret—and Sam’s.” He forced a chuckle and smile onto his face even though the thought of their inevitable demise had already began to do its damage. With a soft sigh, he threw his arm over Becca’s shoulders and turned her around. “Come on, let’s head back.”

“Do you—nevermind.” Becca chuckled as Frankie pulled into the driveway, the two of them sharing an uncharacteristic silence, but not hating it. Frankie parked the car and looked over at her, the only light on her face coming from the porch all the way up the driveway.

God, he thought she was angel. He thought it when they first met at the bar, thought it when he found out she was his friend’s niece, and had been thinking it every minute since. Her olive-toned skin seemed radiant even in the darkness of the car, her hazel brown eyes like pools of honey every time she did him the honor of looking his way. He reached his hand over to cup her cheek before remembering where they were, pulling it back to his lap.

“Do I what?” He settled on, hoping the softness in his tone conveyed his admiration for her. Becca sighed and shrugged, shaking her head with a chuckle. “Tell me.”

“Do you think, and obviously it’s totally understandable if you don’t want to, especially given everything with Sam and, I mean, my mother would actually kill you if she found us—“

“Miss Herrera, I’m going to need you to spit it out.” He teased, watching as she chuckled at her own word-vomit.

“Do you think I could sneak into your room tonight?” She watched as he stared at her blankly, her teeth bared in a wince as she took his silence for rejection. “Nevermind, I just…I hate knowing that you’re just upstairs, which is basically just on the other side of the wall when—it’s okay. It’s impractical. So many things could go wrong—“

“Becca, of course you can. Though, I think it’ll be easier if I sneak into your room.” He reached over, not much care left in him anymore, and held her face in his hand. His eyes flickered from hers to the soft, blurred red pout of her lips, almost losing it completely and kissing her. “I…only care about being caught anymore because I know how it would affect your relationship with your parents. I don’t want you thinking that I care about anyone finding out, because…I don’t. I’m not ashamed of you, not…you’re not something I would ever want to hide. So, please don’t ever think that I’d ever turn down the chance for you to sneak into my bed or vice versa, querida.”

“Am I overthinking everything…with my parents?” She asked in a croaked whisper. Frankie sighed and removed his hands from her face.

“Baby, that’s not what I wanted you to take away from what I said.” He chuckled and tilted his head back against the headrest, hand raking over his face.

“I’m sorry—“

“Becca, you don’t—“ He sighed, frustrated with her inability to grasp that she wasn’t an inconvenience to him. “I just…you’re always so concerned with everyone else, with how they view you. I wish you’d stop caring about everyone else and start caring about yourself. Because the only thing I’ve ever witnessed you doing for yourself is sneaking around with me, and even that…”

“I wasn’t raised to think of myself. I wouldn’t even know what it looks like.” She sighed, hit in the stomach by his words. He was right, and although she’d never thought it herself, it was the blatant truth. She was a pleaser, through and through—even, and mostly so, when it offered no benefit to her.

She didn’t live with her parents any longer. Didn’t rely on them for cash or stability. Didn’t rely on them for emotional support—clearly. So, for what reason did she feel so selflessly devoted to being the “dream daughter”? Why was she here—with this dream of a man that somehow was a part of her reality—yet still so concerned with the possibility of being caught. Why did she even care if they were caught?

“You know what?” She turned to him with her bottom lip between her teeth, hesitant but finally realizing just how free she was. “Who cares?”

“Huh?” He furrowed his brows and smiled at her in confusion, having no idea what she was about to say given his lack of insight into her inner epiphany. Becca reached over and pulled his face to hers, her tongue slipping past his lips and into his mouth. Frankie took only a second to gather his wits before he was gripping her hip and kissing her back just as hungrily. In between kisses, he tried to remind her of their surroundings, though he could hardly think straight himself. “We…need…to…we…inside…let’s—“

“Shh,” she hushed his lips with her own, her hand migrating down his chest to his bulge, earning a gasped moan when she palmed him through his jeans.

“Cariño…we’re going to get caught,” he mumbled against her neck as his lips travelled to her pulse, nipping at the skin while she continued to stroke him through his denim.

“I don’t really care anymore,” she moaned, instantly feeling his teeth and lips sucking and biting her neck, surely leaving a hickey. “Frankie…I want to fuck you. Take me inside and fuck me…”

“Baby…” He grumbled as he tried to keep hold of what little reason he had left in his lust-flooded brain. Before she could open her mouth to beg again for what she desperately desired and more than deserved, a knock sounded on her window, the two of them jumping apart. Sam stood on the other side of her door, careful to not look inside. “Jesus!”

“Sam!” She shouted as she rolled her window down, her heart thumping in her chest at the jump scare. Her cousin finally turned and chuckled when he took in her frightened look, gesturing at the house.

“You guys gonna come inside or?” He watched as Frankie nodded, wiping her lipstick off his mouth before turning off the car. Becca glared at her cousin and stepped out of the vehicle, shoving him once she was standing. “Hey! I’m doing you a favor! You think if your mom came out here for her nightly smoke and saw that she’d be as calm as your favorite cousin?”

“First off, you’re not my favorite cousin! None of my cousins are my favorite! You guys are all awful.” Frankie grinned in amusement as he walked around the car, keeping his hand on the small of her back as she shouted and pointed her finger in his face, Sam seemingly not much caring about the attack given his relaxed smile. “Secondly, my mom smokes?! Thirdly, I was in the middle of something, asshole!”

“Yeah, I had the misfortune of witnessing.” He chuckled and swatted her finger away like a fly. Before Becca could open her mouth to curse him out again, Frankie chuckled and placed his hand over it, knowing the look on her eyes meant nothing good.

“Alright, fighter. I think you blew off enough steam for one night. Let’s go inside.” Frankie ordered and Becca begrudgingly obeyed him, though she felt she still had enough irritation built up in her to curse her cousin out for at least a century.

Sam chuckled from behind the couple as he watched them slowly start to distance themselves physically the closer that they got to the front door. It made him feel a bit bad for his cousin—the feeling strange and foreign given their usual not-so-closeness.

He admittedly held a lot of the blame for their family’s view of the twenty-four year-old, his jokes at her expense and nicknames surely not helping at the very minimum. But it was like he couldn’t see just how sad she’d been until she saw her happy for once. Though he couldn’t change the way everyone saw her overnight, he decided that he’d do everything he could to help the kid woman out.

As soon as Becca stepped inside, she was greeted by her nosier than usual mother.

“You’re home early.” She followed Becca further inside the house, Frankie and Sam in tow as they all walked to the kitchen.

“It was dead.” Becca smirked in both amusement and disbelief at her mother’s quick interrogation, looking at both Sam and Frankie for confirmation that it was actually happening.

“I thought you weren’t going out to see anybody.” She countered, earning a scoffed laugh from her daughter as she poured herself a glass of water.

“Jesus! I wasn’t.” Becca shook her head and lifted her glass to her lips, eyes shouting at Frankie to say something and change the subject.

“Uh, what did you guys get up to? Did the twins figure everything out?” Frankie asked her mother, successfully pulling her attention to him.

“Oh, we just watched a movie and drank some wine—hey, I think you…have something…um, is that—is that red lipstick?” She squinted as she pointed at Frankie’s neck, his heartbeat racing as he reached up to where she was pointing, covering the spot. Becca quickly turned around and tried to wipe off the remaining red that covered her kiss-bitten lips.

“Uh, yeah. I found them on their way to the bars and brought them with me to the strip-club. One of the dancers must’ve gotten handsy since he’s so handsome, ya know.” Sam interjected with his best performance, Becca and Frankie groaning internally at his lack of acting skills.

“You took my little girl into a strip club?” She scolded her nephew, swatting his arm before turning to Frankie and doing the same. “And you let him!”

“She’s not a kid, auntie. Look at her. Too many wrinkles for a kid.” Oh, Sam. Becca turned around, holding her hand with smudged red pigment behind her back as she shrugged.

“I…like naked ladies, what can I say?” She gave her mother an awkward grin, Frankie failing to hold in his amusement at her delivery, snickering and choking on his chuckles as he tried to calm them. Earning another glare from her mother, he straightened his grin and stood at attention, nodding as though to say he’d be on his best behavior.

“You’re never going out with either of them again. Perverts.” She tugged her daughter along with her upstairs to her bedroom, mumbling on about how tomorrow night she and her father were going out on a date and she needed input on which dress to wear. The topic was both boring and relieving. If her mother so quickly moved on from the previous subject, it meant she believed it—which meant her and Frankie were still in the clear for the evening. “Now, I was thinking this one, but…your dad likes me in red, so maybe this one?”

“I think dad would like you in anything, mom.” You sat down on the floor of her walk-in closet, half listening and responding to her, half caught reliving the sinful memories of Frankie and her in his backseat.

The evening seemed to go on much later than all the others, her parents not making their way to bed until 1 am, her uncle doing the same after having stolen Frankie away for a couple hours.

At last, around 3 am, it was all clear for Frankie to sneak out of his room and down to Becca’s. He poked his head out into the dark hallway and quietly closed the door behind him, tiptoeing to Becca’s door. It squeaked as he opened it, making him wince as he squeezed through the crack and closed it again. A lamp flicked on behind him at the sound of the door closing, Becca having woken up from an accidental nap while waiting for him. She sat up and leaned back against the headboard, rubbing her eyes to clear his vision.

“Were you asleep? I’m sorry,” he frowned as he walked over to her bed, surprised by the disorder of the room, but finding it endearing nonetheless. Becca shook her head adamantly and accepted him as he walked to the other side of the bed and sat down beside her. Becca wasted no time in climbing onto his lap, his hands rubbing up and down her sides as the pair took each other in. Her hands held his face as though he was as delicate as a rose, her eyes darting between his. Frankie’s lips curled up a bit under her intense admiration, his voice as soft as a whisper when he spoke again. “Are you…tired?”

“No,” she responded quickly, shaking her head. One of Frankie’s hands slid over the cotton of her pajama shorts at her hip to the swell of her ass, gripping it softly. “Never too tired for you.”

“Baby girl, I want you so bad,” he admitted in a pained sigh, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers, Becca’s core working against the hardness in his sweats. Frankie shivered at the sensation, fingers gripping her tighter to help move her against him. Neither could contain their soft moans of satisfaction as she sped up against him, desperate for release. He was going to to stop her and remind her that she could have the real thing if she wanted it, but decided that she deserved to use him however she wanted, as long as she wanted, over and over until she’d had enough. “Fuck, querida…take what you need.” He breathed out as Becca kept going, his eyes trained on her as she began to crumble, her hips stuttering to a halt once she’d reached her ecstasy. Her lips crashed against his as she rode it out, his hands running up and down her back soothingly. “Lay down for me.”

“I…might need a bit of reassurance.” She admitted as she laid down, the reality that she was about to do something she’d never done before finally hitting her. She knew that everyone’s first time was different, and most of her friends said it wasn’t as awful as the movies made it out to be, but she couldn’t help but wonder if it was going to hurt and how bad. She’d seen his size, and it was impressive. Surely it was going to hurt—

“Becca.”

She’d been stuck in her head for minutes.

“Becca, we don’t have to.” He looked concerned as he hovered over her, his eyes taking in every bit of panic that covered her face. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for, baby. We can stop now—“

“No.” She shook her head and reached for his face. “I want to. I really want to. I just…I’m scared of it hurting. I know it’s exaggerated in the movies but…it seems a little scary to do something for the first time and not know what it’s going to feel like.”

“Well, we can work up to it. How’s that? And if it ever stops feeling good, just tell me and I’ll stop.” He earned a smile from her, her head nodding in agreement as her heart skipped in her chest.

He was such a dream.

Frankie leaned down and kissed her slowly, lips gentle against hers before picking up in hunger and speed, his free hand running up and down her outer thigh as it wrapped around his hip. Becca lowered her hands to her hips, tugging her sleep shorts and panties down her thighs until Frankie stepped in and took them off the rest of the way. He sat back on his ankles and tugged his t-shirt off while she did the same, her entire body bare and on full display in the dim light, sprawled out beneath him for the first time ever. Her chocolate brown hair laid in messy waves over her pillow, her smile wide as she watched him through the valley of her open thighs.

“Do you have any idea of how fucking…beautiful you are? I can’t…can’t fucking think straight looking at you.” He leaned down and kissed her knees, mumbling in a whisper against her skin. Becca shivered at the sensation of his beard as his lips kissed down the inside of her thighs, closer and closer to where she craved him most. “You’re such an angel, cariño…can’t believe you’re real.”

“Frankie, baby, fuck…” She breathed out and ran her fingers through his hair, bringing her eyes to watch him as he kissed her clit a few times. When his tongue swiped over her wetness, she nearly shouted his name, quickly covering her mouth with her hand to prevent it.

“Feel good, baby?” He smirked, chuckling against her before getting back to work. Becca chuckled and rolled her eyes, surprising even herself at her sensitivity to every one of his touches. “You know I’d love to hear you, but I’m pretty confident no one else in this house would feel the same. Can you stay quiet for me?”

“I’m trying,” she chuckled and frowned at him playfully, scratching his scalp lightly. Frankie chuckled back and kissed her inner thigh, pulling his mouth away after deciding it may be too much for right now. He didn’t move far, keeping his head between her thighs as he brought his index finger to her wetness, swiping up and down her slit until she was arching her back. “Please, do something…”

“Okay, remember. If it hurts—“

“I got it. Now finger me.” She cut him off, making him grin at her neediness. He kept his eyes locked with hers as he pressed inside of her, earning a sigh of relief as she clenched around him. “Okay…that’s not bad at all.”

“It’s just a finger, querida.” He kissed her thigh and curled his digit up against her spongey ceiling, watching as she arched her back and let a moan slip out. “Shhhh, gonna get us caught.”

“That felt good.” She praised in a whisper, moaning quieter when he did it again…and again, until he added another finger and kept going. It was a struggle being brought to the cliff of euphoria over and over and having to remain quiet—especially when she finally was pushed over into bliss.

Becca bit her hand as she shook for him, his fingers successfully bringing her to her second orgasm of the night. He couldn’t help but beam in pride at his ability to make her feel good, smirking like a champion when he crawled back up her body to kiss her through her bliss.

“I’m ready.” She breathed out, eyes fluttering open as she held his face, smiling and flushed. “I want you.”

“Okay, baby.” He nodded and leaned in for another peck before climbing out of bed and stripping out of his sweats. Becca bit her lip as she took him in—it was a beautiful sight, his tanned body walking across the room to his sweats, grabbing a condom and walking back. Their eyes met and both of them blushed, smiling as they watched him fumble with the wrapper. “Been a while.”

“I was gonna say…came awfully prepared.” She joked, biting her lip again when she watched him roll it on over his length.

“I went out and got these the other day, sweetheart. No need to get all jealous,” he teased, climbing onto the mattress and resting between her legs. Becca furrowed her brows as he ran the tip of his protected length across her slit, both faces turning serious as the contact. “Talk to me, okay? Let me know how you’re feeling.”

“Okay,” She nodded, reaching for his face. Frankie leaned down and allowed her to hold him as he carefully pressed in, her slick warm and tight as he slipped sank into her deeper. His brows furrowed at the pleasure, worried he might be the one to end up being too loud.

“Fuck,” he shivered as he was completely sheathed in her, his eyes moving from where they were connected to hers, studying her carefully. “You okay?”

“It feels…amazing,” she breathed out, near tears at the sensation of being completely filled by him. It was better than she could’ve ever dreamed, no doubt due to his ability to take his time in getting her ready. “Please keep going.”

“I’m not going to last long at all, baby. Feels so fucking good,” he warned as he withdrew his length, his head falling at the sensation, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to focus on not finishing then and there. “Fuck.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m just glad to be feeling you.” She assured, lifting his head and bringing his eyes back to hers. When he pressed back inside, it was over. Her hands stroking his cheeks, her pretty face watching him as he spilled inside the condom, his moans coming out soft and pretty for her.

“Fuck, I don’t know why—that was fucking embarrassing.” He chuckled and kissed her cheek, more than a little ashamed about his quick release. Becca shook her head and furrowed her brows at him, soothing his worry that he’d fucked it up.

“No, it wasn’t. It was perfect. You felt perfect. I just wanted to feel you, get the nerves out. And it was perfect. Besides, you did make me finish twice beforehand.” She chuckled and watched as Frankie smiled more authentically, pulling out of her and laying down against her side. He would handle the condom situation in a minute—for now he just needed to be near her, to feel her existing beside him. “I like you a lot, Frankie. More than I probably should.”

“Yeah, I’ve been feeling the same.” He turned to her with a soft grin. “I’m very glad we met, even if this is a little complicated and difficult to maneuver sometimes. You’ve…really made a mark on me. I can’t…imagine a world where I won’t want to know you.”

“You’re pretty good with your words, Morales.” She teased to cover up the fact that she wanted to cry from happiness, cuddling her face into his chest, the two slipping into a peaceful quiet while they savored their last few hours of being unbothered.

When the sun began to rise, he would have to get out of her warm bed and sneak back into his room—to leave her. But they tried not to think about that as they laid together, whispering every now and again about both the deepest of thoughts and the silliest of musings.

It was temporary thing for now—their bliss—but she hoped once the trip had come to an end and they were both back in Los Angeles, it would become a permanent thing. Him in her bed, talking through the night and holding each other close. In fact, as she drifted to sleep for the first time that night at 5 am, alone and cold in her bed, that’s what she thought about. The hope and whispered promise of their future.

Permanence.

frankie taglist: @joelmillerscoffee @ajeff855 @wildemaven @axshadows @sherala007 @browneyes-issac @tooflef @mariasabana @tae27 @kimm4710 @stxrrylunatic @sara-alonso @paulalikestuff @jbh-castaway @oceandolores @mandomover @chxpsi @auberosier @mashomasho @vanemando15 @wickedmunson @marvel-sw-lover @jediknight122 @harriedandharassed @star-wars-fan-2005 @alwaysdjarin @jalobro @trickstersp8 @mccn-bcys @manuymesut @trinkets01 @tanzthompson @jlmaddinson @hopeamarsu @fanofverymanythings @lovesbiggerthanpride @pinkything @fireproofmarta @littlenosoul @tryonmyworld @berriesarepunk @laureliciousdefinition @camishadjarin @rav3n-pascal22 @fishingforpike @rocketrhap3000 @amneris21 (please let me know if you’d like to be removed/added to future frankie content!)

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #frankie morales x oc #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales angst #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales smut #frankie morales #triple frontier fanfic #frankie catfish morales #august series

142 notes · View notes

starstruckwillows · 1 year

Text

vitamins — will byers ♡

requested by 🐍<3

nancy wheeler x fem!reader, platonic!will byers, talk of homophobia, this is more will centric

you as will’s queer mentor

you’d lived next door to the byers family for a long time. before will disappeared, and your whole life became affected by the dead remains of the upside down.

despite being closer in age to johnathan, the youngest boy was the one you’d bonded with the most. you’d spent many nights watching films with him while his family were all working. when he was rescued, you were one of the only people he still knew how to talk to.

and maybe, he’d go on to admit to you later, he felt comfortable with you because of the rumours.

the girlfriend, gay, queer, rumours that flocked around an unbothered you. will just hoped they were true as he sat on your bed, waiting for joyce or johnathan to pick him up. he decided it was time to tell someone, and at least you couldn’t disown him.

while he flicked through a comic, you grew bored of your chemistry homework. you concluded you’d ask nancy for help later.

“talk to me, will,” you sighed dramatically, “my brain’s gone numb.”

he laughed half-heartedly, “yeah. so... i’m in love with mike.”

you choked on the water you’d only just reached for, banging your chest as tears spilt down your cheeks. will stood up in concern but you waved him off, “no, i’m fine. that was sudden.”

he shrugged, not meeting your eye and sheepishly apologizing, “well, i didn’t mean to kill you.”

“just, say that again for me.”

“i’m in love with mike.”

you leaned against the back of your chair, “huh. you want to know what i honestly think about that, will?”

he felt his stomach drop. here came the bad news, “yeah?”

“you could do better.”

“than boys?”

“what? no, than mike.”

will folded his arms, “why’d you say that?”

“no reason. are you alright?”

he only realised then that he was trembling rather violently. he shook his head and sat back down, pressing an elbow to his bouncing knee as he answered you, “i’m good. yeah. i just... you seem better with this than i am.”

you nodded sympathetically, “well, i’ve had more practice. i’m also, y’know, gay.”

it was will’s turn to choke now. metaphorically, because he wasn’t drinking anything, and he had also suspected. the way you said it so bravely... it instilled confidence in him.

“you and nancy, right? i knew it.”

you smiled, “it’s not really a secret. we’re just private. and slightly wary, considering the world we live in.”

will scoffed, “is steve, like, collecting lesbians? that’s three now.”

you laughed, “maybe he has a radar for them.”

“like... a gaydar?”

“something like that. anyway, i promise, everyone in our circle will be alright.”

he took that on board, but he didn’t tell anyone else for a while. that was okay. of course.

you made a conscious effort to give your relationship with nancy more clarity within your group. an arm at her shoulder every known and then, honey and babe worked into your sentences, wearing her jacket, and, most importantly to will, referring to her as your girlfriend. that was something you had, were allowed to have.

all within your group of course, this was indiana in the eighties.

“does it scare you?” will whispered one day, as another news headline of lgbt riots appeared.

“sometimes.” you whispered back, with an arm around him. sometimes it seemed you needed will as much as he needed you.

the young boy looked defeated, “i feel ostracized as it is. what’s worse than zombie boy? gay zombie boy.”

“i get it, man. i mean, i don’t, because i wasn’t kidnapped by a sentient alternate reality,” he laughed at that, thankfully, “but i’m here for you. you aren’t alone.”

he asked you what he should do, then. you joked, “drink milk and take your vitamins? i don’t know.”

will sighed, “i have a boyfriend, now. would you want to meet him.”

“of course i would.”

🏷️ — @lil-quinnie @echoloidsblog @sw34terw34ther @river13254

#starstruckwillows #nancy wheeler #will byers #nancy wheeler x fem!reader #fluff #nancy wheeler fluff #platonic!will byers

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animusxy · 2 years

Text

Making up for lost time.

Father! Daemon Targaryen x BastardDaughter! OC

OC’s name is Visenya.

TW: Child Abuse, no specific instances but it is implied to the point that it is fact (not done by Daemon). Daemon being a softie in reality.

P.S. It has been a few years since I’ve written anything remotely like this so expect mistakes. I’ll probably write a part two.

This was also a random idea I had like two hours ago so not too much thought has been but into it. It’s 1 A.M when I’m posting this and I’m staying up to two to watch the new HOTD episode…

-- -- --

(3rd Person POV)

Her mother had died when she was 7 from complications of illness. Her father was no where to be found but that was no surprise to her.

The last she’d heard of him was that he’d wed Laena Velaryon. She was simply his bastard child. Someone he couldn’t put time into caring about even if he wanted to. It was not that she’d particularly cared about only having one parent.

Her mother was not a good mother, having blamed her for being the reason that she was disowned and lost favour with the rogue prince. She couldn’t really blame her that as she was not entirely wrong. But even if she didn’t blame her it didn’t mean it wasn’t painful.

She wasn’t afraid to lay a hand on her if she believed her to be in the wrong. Which was most of the time.

Few people came to the funeral and no one tried to comfort her. They probably knew of her mothers habits and decided that it would be foolish to try. Or the fact that she was a bastard meant that she wasn’t worthy of such sympathies. She thinks the latter is more accurate.

At 7, Visenya met her father for the first time in years. Around a week after the funeral she was visited by a maester stating that she were now in the care of her father. Naturally she was shocked, she thought her life was over. That she’d spend the rest of her life in an orphanage and then on the streets. It was not to be.

Daemon Targaryen was an infamous man with many rumours surrounding him. People either loved him or hated him and she could see why. She couldn’t tell if he actually cared for her presence. He’d made it clear that while she was staying with him she wasn’t his priority. That was Laena and her children.

Okay, that wasn’t so bad. It was nicer than a mother who wouldn’t feed her or even talk to her without throwing insults and the occasional slap. This was actually an improvement.

After all, Daemon had to at least care somewhat in order to take her in. He was the rogue prince! He could do as he pleased when he pleased and no one could truly stop him (besides from his brother, perhaps).

Daemon would talk to her for pleasantries small things like ‘good mornings’ and such. She wasn’t to eat any meals with them which was fine by her. When she ate outside they couldn’t complain if she spilled something. She didn’t have to worry about being hit for dropping something on the floor when she did things by herself.

Eventually, over the course of a few years, Visenya talked with Laena and her children some more. Laena was not entirely bothered by her existence and talked to her regularly. They talked over any particular thing, it was perhaps in these conversations where Laena became worried for the little girl.

Daemon wasn’t a reliable father figure, everyone knew that. But her mother should’ve been. Laena had her children to look after but she could tell something was off with her. Call it mothers intuition but she had a feeling that the girl hadn’t grown up with much love. She was a bastard after all, it was obvious with how Visenya had inherited Daemon’s purple eyes.

“Tell me, Visenya, what was your mother like?” Visenya paused. It was the first time she’d been asked a question like this.

“She was… like any other mother?” The truth was Visenya didn’t truly know what her mother was like. She knew that telling Laena about how her mother had treated her may only cause more problems. These people had taken her in without needing to. She would not burden them with her traumas.

Visenya was unable to answer any of the following questions Laena had about her mother. Visenya couldn’t just outright say that her mother would beat her for the slightest thing, could she?

Her lack of confident response only made Laena worry further. She had gone to a maester first before Daemon. She had spared some details, like who she was inquiring.

“Children are more affected by their parents actions than we are led to believe. Even if we too were once children.” He had told her, but it was not this statement that stuck with her.

“Wounds received from parents are not just physical. They have emotion affects as well. Those injuries rarely ever heal without the love of another parent figure.” When the maester had tried to ask about what child she was inferring about she had stated that the child was an old friend, not wanting to put Visenya into a tough position. After all nothing was confirmed yet, perhaps she was just going crazy.

Laena had brought up her suspicions about Visenya’s mother to Daemon the same night as they readied themselves for bed. Daemon did care for the girl, he was horrible at showing it though. His first reaction was silence then to ask Laena if she was sure of this. She responded truthfully.

“No, but there is only one way to know for sure.”

Laena had always pushed Daemon to talk with the girl. She refused be the reason that Visenya grew up without either parents, Daemon would care for her on his own accord. He just needed a little push to see that she needed him.

Daemon had always had a soft spot for children and he hated it when parents treated them like pawns. In Laena’s mind, it was only a matter of time before Daemon realised just how much she needed him and he would support her, Laena would make sure of it.

——

Daemon had slowly began spending more time with her, as to not arouse any suspicion. It started with simply greeting one another around the home and grounds before moving into small conversations.

He’d gradually learned more things about her as time went on. Visenya loved reading and had vast skills in art. She was good at horse riding, archery and was alone most of the time. His daughter was a lonely child. Or perhaps ‘lonely’ wasn’t the right word. She was alone a lot but he wasn’t sure if she felt lonely per say.

Now that he was more involved, he could see that it was quite rare that anyone would speak with her. On the other hand, there was never any shortage of stares. Some were curious, others seemed disgusted with living amongst a bastard. He would be lying if he said that the treatment she received didn’t anger him in some way.

He gently (as gentle as Daemon can be) brought it up to her late one evening. They were sat on the stairs outside of their home watching the sunset. Visenya was sat closer to the ground whilst Daemon was sat on the uppermost step.

“Does it bother you? The staring.” It had taken her a second do understand what he was inquiring about.

“No. I suppose not. It’s better than before.” A simple answer to a simple question but it didn’t sit well with Daemon. Worse than staring would imply words, statements. Actions.

But who would try to insult her? She had a Valyrian name and Targaryen eyes to match. Even if she was a bastard, there was only one person who would have bastards at that point in time. Would someone really risk angering him? He didn’t think so.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, that left one person.

He didn’t want to admit that he had left her in the care of someone who didn’t look after her properly. Because he did care for her, truly, he could see that. He didn’t know how to act on it but he could see that Visenya greatly mattered to him. As clear as day.

He could also see where he had gone wrong. When Visenya first came here Daemon wasn’t invested with her life. It just felt wrong to leave her where she was.

He can see now that he felt that way because she was his child, whom he was meant to raise, look after, and protect. His mother had told that once that even the darkest people could crack with the existence of their child, he didn’t understand at the time but he did now. Even if he hadn’t been around her it didn’t break the bond that was there since the first time Visenya had taken a breath.

He had been failing her before he even met her. Before he even had the chance to know her. He felt the guilt weighing down on his chest and he found himself wondering about what would’ve happened if he had even visited her a little bit.

With these newfound feelings came the drive to do more. He wanted to dedicate his time to this child. To get to know everything about her, the things a father should know. Her favourite foods, colours, what books she wanted to read, what activities she liked most.

He wanted to spend time with her, he wanted to eat with her at lunch and dinner. He wanted her to come to him with her problems. He wanted to fix those problems. He knew she had them, problems a child of her age truly shouldn’t have to feel, but that was okay.

He had allowed her to believe that her half-siblings were more important to him than she was. He hadn’t realised at the time just how that may have affected her. She was seven when she first arrived. She was 11 now. He could only hope that whatever damage he had caused was reversible. Daemon wasn’t a particularly religious person and he felt rather idiotic as he got down onto his knees to ask the gods if he could be given one more chance with Visenya, a chance to be someone she needed in her life.

He was going to make the effort. He was going to fix this. If may take months, years or even decades to fully undo the affects of what had happened to his daughter. But that was okay too. Some day, she would come to believe that Daemon Targaryen was her kepa.

‘Kepa’ - the high Valyrian word for ‘father’

#daemon #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon x laena #daemon targaryen x daughter #house of the dragon #hotd season 1

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kennahjune · 11 months

Text

Home Is With You - Steddie

-a story I’ve been thinking of for months now. Enjoy I guess-

Steve had half a mind to turn around and leave. Walk off the porch and get the hell out of there.

His hand was raised to the door, his gut filled with hesitance. Why was this so hard? It was just Mr. Munson, he’d told Steve to come to him if he needed anything and this probably counted.

Maybe he should just leave, turn around and go—

Go where? Where would he go? He was just kicked out and disowned because his father found out he was hanging out with the kids and Eddie “The Freak” Munson— who’s trailer he was literally at.

Steve couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. Mr. Munson was just being nice when he’d told Steve to come to him. He didn’t actually mean it. Mr. Munson didn’t need Steve’s problems on top of his own and Eddie’s. He should really leave—

The door opened.

Damn.

“What the hell are you doing, kid?”

Wayne Munson stood in the doorway, dressed for work. Oh yeah, he worked 3rd shift. Man, Steve was really messing everything up, wasn’t he? How could he have forgotten that Mr. Munson worked 3rd shift? Steve was just getting in his way, this was too much, he couldn’t—

“Kid?”

Mr. Munson was looking at Steve from the doorway, faint concern and confusion written on his face. Steve exhaled shakily.

“Hey—.. Mr. Munson.”

“Jesus, kid. What the hell happened to you? Thought you was done gettin’ into fights.”

Steve forgot about that. Yeah— his dad left him with a parting gift: a busted face and probably worse for wear stomach bruising.

“Uh— no, not a fight— um. Exactly.” Steve winced and put a hand over his mouth, looking away from the doorway to end of the porch. The rain was pounding on his skin, each droplet feeling like a knife piercing his body. Suddenly everything was too much, and Steve was grateful for the rain covering up the tears he felt welling in his eyes.

Apparently, he had zoned out for quite a bit, because next thing Steve knew, Mr. Munson had dragged him inside.

“Hey, kid. I don’t really know what happened but you’re free to stay here if ya need.”

Steve nodded quietly.

“Now I’ve gotta get to work, but Eddie’s in his room if ya need him. I won’t ask unless you wanna tell me. I’ll see ya in the mornin’.”

Mr. Munson ended his talk with a pat to Steve’s head, a nod pointed down the hall, and a quick look. But before Mr. Munson could leave a voice came from the hall.

“Uncle Wayne? What’s goin’ on?”

Steve turned his head to hallway. Eddie stood in the doorway, his hair in a messy bun and falling in his face. He wore a pair of old sweatpants with no shirt. Steve averted his gaze away, not wanting to get to caught up in Eddie’s really pretty face.

Steve heard the quiet steps of Mr. Munson walking over to Eddie. There was a brief, quiet exchange of words, Steve only catching the words “your boy”, and then Mr. Munson was leaving.

Steve stayed standing in the living room of the new government-bought trailer. He didn’t look up when he heard Eddie walking towards him, didn’t look up when saw Eddie’s feet stop in front of him, only looked up when Eddie’s hand was placed gently on his jaw, lifting his head up to look at him.

“What happened?” Eddie’s voice was quiet, soft, gentle. But Steve could hear the waver of anger in it.

“I just wanna sleep. Please.” Steve’s own voice was barely above a whisper, a small headache starting to form behind his eyes. It hurt to move his mouth, his jaw aching and his eyes already drooping with sleep.

“At least let me get you cleaned up sweetheart.”

Steve nodded, and allowed Eddie to drag him to the small bathroom.

The night ended with Steve wrapped in bandages and in Eddie’s arms, dowsing off to Eddie playing with his hair and humming softly after a nice hot shower.

Steve pushed himself further into Eddie’s bare chest, wrapping his arms around the older’s middle to pull him closer.

Eddie chuckled. “Go to sleep baby. We’ll talk in the morning.”

So Steve let sleep drag him down. And if it was the best slew he’d had in years, that was for him to know.

-I didn’t originally plan on posting this but oh well-

Over and out.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #steddie thoughts #steddie idea #steddie hcs #little blurb I cooked up #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #steddie

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band--psycho · 11 months

Text

Moodboard Monday!!

James Potter x Reader- Sunset Conversations

A huge thank you to my amazing friend @xacatalepsyx ; who created this masterpiece of a moodboard for my new moodboard writing challenge!

I hope you all enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

Warnings: Horrible parents, disowning, pureblood prejudice

I’m in love with an idiot.

That was all I could think to myself as I watched James Potter singing at the top of his lungs to the latest number one of the muggle world.

Sirius and James had been taking it in turns to sing muggle songs to try and settle the argument they were having over who the best singer was.

So naturally, the only way for them to settle the argument was to have a sing-off.

They were taking it very seriously, I could've stopped them, told them that they were both awful singers, but it was entertaining and quite funny to watch them battle it out; and merlin knew I needed something to make me smile today.

“So,” Lily began sitting down next to me, “how did the date go?”

Ah.

The date.

I’d been trying really hard to forget about the date that had taken up most of my afternoon.

It wasn’t a date I wanted to go on, especially given who it was.

Lucius Malfoy.

Neither of us really had much say in the matter, my family had arranged it with his; I think my parents were hoping that the date would go well and I’d somehow fall back in line with the traditions of our family.

Pure blood mania.

They were a nightmare.

They hated pretty much everything about me, what I was interested in, who my friends were, what I wanted to do when I left Hogwarts.

I think Lucius was their last attempt to pull me back in; not that that would ever work.

But still, angering my parents a few weeks before the holidays was not something I wanted to do either.

So, I went on the date.

I was polite; until Lucius started badmouthing my friends and telling me that what I wanted for my life was only influenced by them.

~~~~~

“You’re friends with a Muggleborn” the disgust was evident in his voice.

Merlin I wanted to punch him; if we hadn’t have been in a crowded bar I probably would’ve,“Her name is Lily, and yes I am,”

Lily was one of my closest friends. And I, unlike the rest of my house and family, didn’t care that she was muggleborn.

“Can you not see why your parents are concerned about you?”

Concerned? About me? No. They’d never been concerned about; what they were concerned about was their image and how I was ‘damaging’ it.

“Because I have friends?”

“The wrong type of friends,” he whispered venomously; as though I’d somehow offended him. And although that was not my internet, it did give me a lot of satisfaction.

“As opposed to?”

“Having friends of your class,”

“Sirius Black is of a higher class than me or my family,”

I could see a little vein on the side of Lucius’ forehead that looked like it was about to burst in his anger, “Sirius Black is a traitor and a disappointment to his family,”

Well that makes two of us.

That is why I am friends with the marauders, Lily and Marlene, because of Sirius Black.

~~~~~~

I hadn’t told my friends who the date was with; but I did tell them that my parents had arranged it for me.

“That bad?” Lily asked, obviously noticing the look on my face as the memories flags he’d through my mind.

“It was awful,” I stated, trying to force the memory out of my mind once again, “I guess I’m just old school, I still like flowers and real dates, not arranged ones with people I don’t even like,”

I felt Lily's hands wrap around me as she pulled me into a hug.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered; she was my closest friend, she knew all of the drama that went on between my parents and I. And I knew she felt guilty because she thought she was the cause of it, which she wasn’t.

My parents weren’t nice people.

That’s what it came down to.

Nothing to do with her, or me, or anyone else, just them.

~~~~~~

I needed space; some time away from the castle, away from my friends, so that I could think.

The forest wasn’t exactly the safest place to be, I knew that, but I just needed some time.

You are not our daughter

The words from the howler my parents sent me this morning played on my mind like an annoying song I couldn’t get out of my head.

I should’ve been relieved.

I should’ve been happy.

My parents weren’t good people.

But, they were the only family I had.

I think somewhere in my heart I had hoped that they would change, maybe that’s why their words stung so much.

“What’s wrong?” I heard a familiar voice ask; snapping me out of my thoughts and halting my steps.

When I turned around, I saw the one and only James Potter standing behind me, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in concern.

Lily must've told him I was here; she was the only person I had seen today; she was the only person who could've noticed that something was wrong.

“Nothing, I'm fine,” I smiled. Of course it was a fake smile, and I was hoping James didn’t notice that.

But of course he did, “you’re a terrible liar,”

“I just needed some space,” I answered simply. It was a vague answer. I knew that; but right now I really didn’t want to have a conversation about how awful my family was.

“Come with me,” he said softly, offering his hand to me.

“James-”

James stepped closer towards me before I could finish my sentence, capturing my hand in his,“I know somewhere safer than the forest for you to have some space.”

And with his fingers intertwined with mine, he left me out of the forest and to a place I was sure only he knew of.

It was an abandoned house with a little ladder next to it that led up to the roof.

“After you,” he whispered, letting go of my hand so I could climb the ladder.

When I reached the top of the roof I sat there; taking in the view.

I could see why he liked it here.

It was quiet, peaceful and beautiful.

Especially in this moment as the sun was setting; transforming the once blue sky into an intense assortment of orange, yellow, pink and purple.

The view from up here was absolutely breathtaking; it almost made me forget why I was up here to begin with; that was until I felt James sit down next to me.

“I’m here,” he murmured, his hazel eyes meeting my own, squeezing my hand lightly, “you can talk to me or not, but I am here for you, always.”

I remained silent for a few moments, my brain processing what he said.

“I’ll give you your space,” he continued, giving my hand a final squeeze before beginning to stand up.

“I got a howler from my parents today,” I said; making James sit back down where he originally was.

“I see,” James began, his hand returning to mine once again, his thumb rubbing small circles onto the back of my hand, “what did they say?”

“Long and short of it is that I’m not the person my parents wanted me to be,” I was surprised by the way my voice cracked as the words left my lips; I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down and stop myself from breaking, “they hate the subjects I’ve chosen to study, my plans for the future, the people I associate myself with…they hate who I am,”

“Then they’re idiots,” I could see the anger from what parents had said burning in his eyes; though his voice remained soft.

“Y/n/n,” he whispered; placing his other hand on my cheek; I couldn’t help but lean into his delicate touch, “you are you,”

A smile formed on his lips as he said those words; the type that made the butterflies in my stomach swarm like crazy.

“And that is nothing short of amazing,” he continued, as his thumb moved down my cheek to my chin, pulling my face closer to his so that our noses were touching.

“We should be getting back to the castle,” I mumbled, mentally cursing myself as soon as the words left my lips.

But it was getting late; the once beautifully coloured sky was now darkening and the last thing I wanted was for James to get into trouble because of me.

“We should,” he agreed with a small smirk, before he closed the distance between our lips.

It took my mind a second to catch up to what was happening; James Potter was kissing me.

It sounded like a dream.

It felt like a dream.

But as I began kissing him back, my lips molding effortlessly against his own, I realised kissing him was much better than any dream I could muster.

I had to fight back a small whine when I felt the coldness of the air on my lips rather than the warmth of James’ lips.

“Now we can go back,” He chuckled, his thumb ghosting over my bottom lip.

It didn’t take long before we were both on our way back to Hogwarts; our hands intertwined just as they were when we arrived at the abandoned house.

“Remember what I said, darling,” he started, catching me off guard with the little nickname at the end of his sentence, “I’m here for you, always,”

“Thank you,” I said, not knowing what else to say. In the course of a few hours James had turned one of the worst days of my life into the best. Just a simple thank you didn’t seem anywhere near enough, but they were the only words that I could think of.

He smiled at me again, the same smile that made the butterflies in my stomach swarm when we were sat upon that rooftop.

“You don’t need to thank me, love, I would do anything to see you smile,” he breathed, as he leaned in to capture my lips in another kiss, “Now, I’ve gotta go otherwise I’m never gonna leave you.”

And with that we bid one another goodnight; I didn’t think today was going to end like this; with me happy, and it was all because of James Fleamont Potter.

Tagging:

@yn-ymn-yln @gloryekaterina @jamie-lee666 @heyitskat101 @virginsvcide @megaprincesscakes @skyofficialxx @greengecko @darthwheezely @findzelda @ciannemar83 @trishizzl @amaryllis23 @medalloway-blog @aboukie @munsinner @ashlovesthemarauders @lexondeck @the-chaotic-cow @misshale21 @msmarvelknight @invisible-ninja @howlingmadlady @choochoo284 @jazzyllemmon @chennyetomlinson @realandloud @alexxavicry @justkayleighhere @laneynoir @fredweasleyyyyy @xxemberlights @samanthaofanarchy @drabby-abby @livy26600 @navs-bhat

#james potter #james potter imagine #james potter imagines #moodboard monday #marauders era imagine #marauders era x reader #marauders era imagines #james potter marauders #marauders james potter

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writtenonreceipts · 1 year

Note

Prompt The Things We Cannot Say: Rhys' Mom Discovering How Rhys' Dad Mistreated Feyre🥺🥺

This was really interesting to write. I hope I remained consistent to the characterization I already presented of Benham for this fic. I…I have found that in writing him (in this fic and in others that I include him in) he can be very compelling and I want to keep the same tones of canon present for his character, but at the same time, I do believe there is more to him than we know. So…yeah. This was interesting…

the things we cannot say masterlist

Warnings: Benham is still a piece of trash despite my above words. Potential ableist comments/negative commentary on disabilities.

~1k words

The Words of Others

“Benham Avitas.”

The man in question froze. Not in fear or terror, rather in confusion. Because that voice was his wife’s voice and his wife had long done away with visiting him in the office. So that begged the question: was he hallucinating?

Benham looked up to find that he, unfortunately, was not hallucinating. His wife was indeed standing in the doorway of his office scowling at him with such ferocity that Benham for the first time in a long time felt unsettled.

“Alanna,” he said evenly.

She entered the office, clicking the door shut behind her.

The spacious room seemed to collapse around her as she moved closer. Arms crossed across her chest; Alanna regarded him. His wife had a way about her that demanded attention. She was a strong woman who would not back down from a fight. It was one of the things that he’d first noticed about her all those years ago.

Now, all that energy she possessed was focused on him.

He knew what she was upset about. It wasn’t hard to guess considering that she’d been spending more and more time with Rhysand as of late. It was only a matter of time before she’d learned about the discussion, he and Rhys had about his dating habits.

And then Benham and Alanna had always had some innate ability to understand one another. For the span of their near thirty-six year marriage they’d always known what the other was thinking, how the other would react.

It didn’t help him now, however.

“Alanna,” he said again when she remained silent.

She held up a hand as she came to a stop just before his desk. Her long, dark hair hung over one shoulder with a slight curl to it, a beaded wrap kept it tied in a tail. The style emphasized the angles of her face and left her stark eyes on display. His wife was always striking, even when angry, and right now she was livid.

“Rhysand told me about his new girlfriend,” Alanna said. It wasn’t often that his wife let her emotions go unchecked and Benham had learned to navigate the waters when it happened, but this was different.

“Dear, now isn’t—” he began.

Alanna cut him off. “It is the time, Benham. You…you talked to our son and the woman he is seeing the way you did. You treated her like she was anything less than a real human being? Benham.”

His wife was a passionate person. Strong willed and unbreakable. Given the life she’d come from and the dreams she aspired to own--it was what made her who she was.

“Alanna,” he said, “do you realize what people will say when they hear about this? Our son, my son, with someone who can’t even—”

“You basically disowned him!” Alanna cut him off again. Something she’d never done in the course of their marriage and it indeed was a very strange phenomenon. His wife. His soft spoken, genteel wife, was ready to murder him. “Why should he care what you or anyone else thinks? You haven’t cared about him until he made a way for himself. Without you.”

Benham rose to his feet, unable to remain sitting any longer. To have his wife speak to him like this—well he didn’t like it. He didn’t like for anyone to use this tone of voice with him. He was the one in control. He was the one to maintain order.

“Alanna,” he said, his voice taking on a warning tone. “Watch how you speak to me.”

She glared at him and he could see the color rising in her cheeks. “No. I won’t.”

The air of the office shifted and Benham felt more anger rise within him. It wasn’t often he and Alanna disagreed. Well, they disagreed but ultimately, he made the decision. He was the patriarch of the family and what he said was always the final word.

Indeed, Rhysand had seen success with his business venture. A nightclub. Despite how well the club had done, Benham still believed his son had to be out of his mind to turn to such an investment. Why a nightclub that would still barely break even when Benham had set up a perfectly successful job for him? Everything had been lined up for the Avitas family to have everything at their fingertips. But Rhysand and subsequently the other boys had turned their noses.

It had been humiliating.

Rhysand was selfish and never thought about anything other than his own wants and whimsies. It had been one rebellion after another in raising that boy. And then Alanna insisted on bringing Cassian and Azriel into the mix the last few years of their high school educations. It had only made things worse.

In the end, Benham had had enough. He’d bailed the boys out of jail, found them sneaking out of the house, and then Rhysand denied everything that had been built up for him.

Alanna had never agreed with the hard hand Benham used. Oh, he’d never struck his son or daughter, violence towards ones family was rather tasteless. He’d never seen the value or need in it anyways. For all the chaos Rhysand had caused as a boy, it had only taken a word or a shipment off to some sports camp and the boy would come back for the better. He let Alanna to raise Thea to her own desires, only needing to step in when Thea tried to withdraw from her honor classes or end her math and science club enrollments.

“You just let me have my son back,” Alanna said, pulling Benham from his thoughts. “I don’t want to lose him again.”

“That girl—”

“That girl means something to him.” It was the second time Alanna had cut him off that night. This was not a trend he appreciated. “That woman makes him happy. Isn’t that all that matters? Why don’t you want that for him?”

“He has made it clear what he wants,” Benham said. “And it most certainly isn’t this family.”

Alanna cast him a long, tired look. And for the first time he could see the lines of her face, the exhaustion and the pain and the sorrow.

“Are you sure about that?” she asked. Without waiting for an answer Alanna retreated back out of his office. She paused before opening the door. “I think you need to consider if your family is most important to you, Benham. I think it’s best if you stay in the apartment you rent in the city tonight and not come home.”

With that, she finally left.

It took quite a while for Benham to calm down after that. For one, Alanna had spoken to him so forcefully and so assertive. For another, she knew about the secondary apartment.

Benham didn’t leave his office for the rest of the night.

…

I probably won’t revisit Benhams POV again for this fic. I doubt I’ll do Alanna’s either, despite my love of her. A partial resolution for this little plot line may come eventually. I have an idea for it, but it’ll end up being a full-length chapter (I already know it’ll be 3-4k words and not drabble size). And me being me and a problem child when it comes to consistent updates…I have no specific time line when that’ll be.

tags:

@aelinchocolatelover // @sexy-dumpster-fire // @bamchickawowow // @ireallyshouldsleeprn // @courtofjurdan // @sassys-world // @sleeping-and-books // @superspiritfestival // @chieflemming // @julemmaes // @lysandra-ghost-leopard // @firestarsandseneschals // @emikadreams // @rapunzel1523 // @booksofthemoon // @highladysith // @fangirlprincess09 // @rowaelinismyotp // @vanzetanze // @cassianscool // @stardelia // @my-fan-side // @sjmships // @tillyrubes10 // @rhysandswhore // @story-scribbler // @post-it-notes33 // @live-the-fangirl-life // @strangevil321 // @pastasiren // @lemonade-coolattas @foreverfallingforthestars // @feysand-loml // @realbookloverproblems // @ghostlyrose2 // @swankii-art-teacher // @foughtconquered // @bri-loves-sunflowers // @captain-swan-is-endgame // @mystic-bibliophile // @cretaceous-therapod // @thenightgodess-feyrearcheron // @thisloveseternal // @gracie-rosee // @magnifique1807 // @liars-lmao // @goddess-aelin // @thegloweringcastle // @tangledinsparkles // @the-lonelybarricade // @millsarcherfeykat // @sideralwriting // @nerdperson524 // @the-fae-are-taking-over // @sushisempai // @jenibearx3 // @the-introverted-bibliophile // @starfall-spirit //

#feysand #the things we cannot say #feyre archeron #rhysand #feyre x rhysand #mute!feyre #acotar #acotar fic

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