#shadow milk x reader oneshot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

comfortless · 5 months

Text

All That You Don’t Want

PAIRING: witch!fem!reader x apprentice!König

CONTENT: 18+! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. oneshot. obvious au— so not canon-compliant!, questionable morality, mutual pining, animal death (it’s still alive! but not!), minor character death, power imbalance? technically teacher/student, forced proximity, smut; unprotected piv, creampie, cunnilingus, cockwarming.

NOTES: title from this song! (i will never stop titling my König fics after The Twilight Sad lyrics sorry) i have never written smut in my life i apologize if this is rough!! cover: Robert Bresson, 1951 wc: 7.7k

You never wanted an apprentice, never had the need for some bright-eyed whelp shadowing you for their own benefit. The kingdom had enough competition as far as your craft went— green magic, potion brewing and enchantments, why in the world would you risk teaching someone your secrets only for them to outdo you at every turn? Those with the propensity for magic weren’t treated human, anyway. You saw the looks, uneasy and disgusted, unless of course they had need of you.

The Guild keeps your protected, scrawl your praises in every fresh sheet of parchment passed about, brings in new clients for you to keep yourself afloat without you ever having to leave your little cottage in the forest just beyond the towering walls of the kingdom. So, when you receive the damned letter, how can you refuse?

Green magic couldn’t protect you from the King’s headsman, nor could it keep you hidden away from the constant threat of bandits and other malevolent forces, but the lines in the small letter detailing your new apprentice’s abilities are enough to make you swallow back some of that displeasure.

“… proficient in offensive magics…” and “… formerly in service to the King as a worthy candidate for knighting…” even “… a skilled huntsman…” all tell you that whoever this enigmatic pup is, he would have no qualms hissing at and chasing off a few rogues if they dared step too close to your territory. You picture some ruggedly handsome and charming gentleman arriving at your door with a sword of the finest steel hanging from his side and you loathe the way that your heart seems to flutter with excitement at the prospect.

A fortnight after the letter arrived at your doorstep, you realize that fantasy is often far sweeter than the reality.

You’re busying yourself sorting out a towering shelf with haphazardly placed vials, some labeled and others… well, if you had to guess based on the color of the fluid inside, you should probably toss lest you accidentally poison the next poor woman that comes by simply wanting something to charm the cute farmhand while her piece of shit husband, far too old for her, is off on another brothel visit. You may not be equipped to defend yourself in battle, but you know very well how to make nightshade and wolf’s bane taste like milk and honey.

It’s when you turn with your arms burdened by a heap of unlabeled, possibly poisonous concoctions that you see a figure just outside your window— tall, face shrouded with a blackened veil with only two holes cut out for his moonstone eyes. You curse the way the sight makes you nearly jump out of your skin, dropping everything you were holding onto the wooden floor, brightly colored fluid and glass shards staining a nearby rug you had spent an entire month painstakingly hooking yourself. The specter just tilts his head at you before inviting himself inside. Why bother pretending to be civilized when you look like that, anyhow?

You crouch to collect the shards of glass and wipe away the mixture of maybe-poisons as he enters, not sparing him a glance even as his footfalls lead him to stand uncomfortably close. Perhaps if the entire ordeal hadn’t pissed you off you would have the sense to be afraid, consider the fact that this titan of a man could have been a thief, but something tells you that this is the bright-eyed whelp you had anticipated. The man doesn’t even bother to greet you, let alone kick his muddy boots off at the door, he just hovers over you with his face tilted downward as you scrub up the mess you tell yourself he had caused.

“Leave it to The Guild to send me a dolt,” you mutter below your breath, barely audible as you move to deposit bits of broken glass into a wastebasket at the corner of the room.

“Ja?” The man huffs amusedly.

“Ja?” You question.

“Yes.”

You give him a look, one that suggests you’re in no mood for whatever this is and he seems to stiffen. Any mirth in those haunted eyes of his is quickly snuffed out, replaced with his gaze darting from perusing your backside to the corner of the room, then back up to your face.

He introduces himself as ‘König’. No surname, no title. Though, you supposed in his language, his name was a title in itself. Perhaps your disappointment is more notable than you realize, because the man seems almost nervous around you as you introduce yourself in turn. His fingers curl into his palms in repetition at his sides, and it’s impossible to tell by the small glimpse of his face whether or not he wants to strangle you or bury himself instead.

You rise to your feet, feeling acutely defeated as you lead him around the home, showing him to each room before stopping at the door to his own and crossing your arms over your chest.

“You’ll stay here,” you say quietly, avoiding his eyes as he lowers himself to look at you, thanking you graciously as his hand lingers a bit too long on your shoulder. You gently reach to pry it off, only to feel him grip at your fingers running his thumb over each knuckle before finally drawing away.

You watch from the doorway as he inspects the room. A bed a size two small for a man such as himself sits in the middle, a desk cluttered with spare vials of ink and a few quills made of swan feather, and a towering bookshelf filled with books on simple magic that you haven’t bothered to touch since you were a girl. He seems pleased, despite how very little effort was made for him. As much as you wish otherwise, you almost feel the sting of guilt when you watch him seat himself on the small bed and his eyes light up as he looks to you.

It didn’t take much perception to see the world hadn’t treated this brute too kindly.

He hunts your dinner, bringing home several rabbits that he took his time to skin and prepare for cooking in the yard. Even more, he roasts them over a fire he stoked up for you in a display of gratitude. You watch him from the fogged window as he seats himself by the fluttering flames, watching the meat with a focus that speaks volumes about his own discipline.

“Have you lived on the land for long, König?,” you ask him when the two of you are seated at the table, wiping away the remnants of your meal from your lips with a small handkerchief.

He’s only rucked up his hood enough to eat, the scars lining his jaw run deep, the skin pasty there. He looked far too pale to even be a living thing at all, but his thin lips pull into a grin at your question. “You can tell?” He asks with a slight tilt of his head, the tone of his voice suggesting sarcasm. “Perceptive little witch.”

You furrow your brow at him, surprised by his sudden arrogance. You would have sooner expected the man to tear a hole through you than meet your little question with a cocky response if his twitchy behavior was anything to go by. But… his voice sends a shiver down your spine, the amused lilt mixed with his accent, some natural charm that makes areas of you ache that haven’t been touched in years.

“A man must know to feed himself, ja?”

“Well, I don’t hunt.”

He huffs out a laugh at that, raising a hand to readjust his hood, pulling it back down over his face. König is not pretty, far from it from what you could see, but you almost find yourself downtrodden that he’s hiding himself again when you were only just starting to find yourself curious.

“I will teach you,” he suggests as he clears your table, depositing both your dishes and his own into the washbasin at the far corner of the kitchen. He’s helping, and your eyes merely track him dumbfounded.

“You don’t have to, König— I, um. I’m supposed to be teaching you, remember?” You’re trying to sound authoritative, like a proper mentor but it’s fruitless, really. How long had it been since a man was this close to you, living out in the forest? You had clients, sure, but in your craft you came to know about their proclivities, their ailments, and any interest you may have had died with their innumerable requests.

The Guild had set you up, surely, you decide as your eyes wander over to the man washing your dishes, the man who had prepared your dinner, who had stared openly at your ass. The man who smelled of dew and timber and fire smoke. The man with the most beautiful, tired eyes you had ever met.

You can see the muscles of his back through his tunic, tightly bundled up from where he’s drawn his sleeves to his bicep to wash up the remnants of dinner, mind almost numbing from the sight alone. It felt like some divine torture, to be sent something you adamantly did not want only for that very same thing to make your pulse quicken and throat dry.

“I want to teach you,” he tries again.

You feel sinful for the place your mind goes then. Do the ladies in the kingdom often allow monsters to bed them? Is his size comparable to the stature?

“Okay.” Your voice was tight, barely a whisper.

He finishes up his cleaning and turns to look at you as he wrings his hands over the washbasin, his eyes narrowed and crinkled at the corners. Grinning again like a wolf knowing he’s got his claws in you.

— — —

You go over the standard protocol when dealing with customers seeking remedies with König as you hear the approaching horse whinnying out in the yard. Simple, standard. Most people had a wariness for those who were touched by magic, understandably so. It’s human nature to fear what isn’t fully understood. With König’s imposing height and the veil over his face, you needed him to be extra careful in these situations. He doesn’t seem to take offense at your fretting, merely smiles beneath the veil as you speak and all is settled and well by the time your client wraps lightly at the door.

You swing the door open with a polite smile, hands clasped at the lap of your dress. The smile is maintained even as you catch sight of his face, scars from a horrific burn covering over half of it, his right eye filmed over and sightless in its socket. He wasn’t here to charm a lady or conceal his face with glamours, only for a balm to alleviate the lingering, phantom pains that stretched from his scalp down to his neck. A decent man, and a damned good blacksmith from what you had heard. He was one of your favorites.

König observes from the corner of the room, leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest without a word as you fetch the jar of balm for the client, accept his coin and send him back on his way.

“Oh.. I don’t know how he got that nasty burn but it’s hard to look at isn’t it?”

König gives you a look, something unsaid hinted at just beyond the surface of his icy eyes, and you realize it’s a little too late to pull your words back.

— — —

Days seem to pass by with an awkward tension in the air. It’s not because of his tutelage under you, either, because he’s doing surprisingly well with his studies. Potion crafting is a tricky, fickle sort of thing. One mistake and an entire batch is ruined and the gods only knew when you would stumble upon what was required whilst foraging again. König is careful, attentive as he follows your instruction. He studies diligently, spending his free time reading through his books, often out in the foyer and if not for how skilled he was, you would assume it was all for show. Wishful thinking, a vicious yearning settling in between your breasts that wants for him to try and impress you, to court you.

It’s tense because you’ve found you can’t keep the man out of your head. In the late hour when the house has fallen silent, you could often hear his desperate grunts through the thin slats of wood separating your own room from his. You’ve imagined the sight of him fisting his cock, biting down onto his scarred lip as he whines through his release more times than you would ever confess. The gods themselves couldn’t pry the admittance from your lips that you wait up sometimes to hear him with your own hand between your thighs.

And König had this look about him now, more confident as he walks about. His hands don’t twitch as much when the two of you speak.

It’s the seventh morning as you’re preparing tea for the both of you that he enters the cottage entirely nude (apart from the hood; he seems insistent about keeping it almost entirely on in your presence). His body drips with river water, looking more like the skillfully carved statues that took residence in the castle courtyard than any man at all. You can’t help your staring, and he seems unperturbed by it as he slips behind you to set some freshly plucked milkweed on the wooden countertop. So focused on the cords of tight muscle layering his body, the obscene thing swaying between his legs, you hadn’t even noticed he had bothered to collect an ingredient you so desperately needed.

A man such as he should be seated on a throne, worshipped by a harem of pretty ladies, all pawing at his lap. Yet— he merely had you, ogling him as openly as he seemed to do to you.

“For the elixir,” he hums, sounding amused as he tilts his head to look you over as he had a striking amount of times already.

“Yeah.” You try to subtly clear your throat, cursing yourself for the way your reaction prompts his eyes to dart to the swell of your breasts beneath your dress. “Thanks.”

“You look pretty today.” He’s making everything worse. Turning your quiet life around and filling you with some horrid feeling you’ve avoided for years out here in near-isolation. “You look pretty everyday,” he corrects himself before you can speak. The obscene pillar between his legs seems to grow at the sight of you, and if you were not certain before, you know assuredly now that something has cursed you.

A good, knowing witch would tell him that his compliments were inappropriate, unwarranted. She would tell him to not walk around with his cock on full display and send him off to practice mundane spells as punishment. You are not a good, knowing witch at all if the warmth on your face is anything to go by.

“How was the river?” You ask instead, graciously retrieving a towel from the cupboard to hand to him. Despite how orderly you tried to keep things here, it’s not the water he’s dripping all over the hardwood that has your mind spinning.

“Gut.” He says words in his native tongue, often, and you’ve already grown accustomed to deciphering them. They sound prettier on his tongue than your own. He accepts the towel and merely draping it over his broad shoulders. “Come with me next time,” he offers, all but innocently.

God damnit.

“I made tea.” You’re trying to avoid his undressing stare, busying yourself with the tea kettle. The scent of mint seems to calm you as you pour the tea into your own mug, careful not to spill it out onto the counter with your trembling hands.

“I like you.” Blunt as always, you wonder if he even has any sort of control on the things he says.

God damnit all.

“I like you too, König. You’re a good apprentice,” you respond, your nerves alight with something that you can’t quite place; a twig on the verge of snapping under its weight.

He laughs soft, and graciously gives you a reprieve from well… that as he steps out of the room to finally dress himself.

Later that evening as the elixir is fully prepared and the client arrives to pick it up, you realize that König is no where in sight. It’s not uncommon; the man certainly lacked his social graces, but he hadn’t seemed to mind the shopfront side of what you do before until you had spoken so carelessly. The client is a nervous little thing, a girl not yet a woman, anxious and shaky as she takes the vial from you with an abundance of thanks. It’s no wonder why she had requested such a thing meant to put a patch over her anxieties and communicate better now. You steal only a spoonful from the cauldron as you empty it, praying that it silences the buzzing of nerves and the fluttering in your heart as you bed down for the night.

— — —

You wake to a door slamming shut in the dead of night, followed by the quieted hiss of what you believe to be a curse in a language that is not your own. It immediately sends you on high alert, thinking back to the threat of bandits and enchanted wildlife or whatever else. Jolted from your bed by the kick of adrenaline, you tiptoe down the stairs to see that… nothing is out of place. The den is as homey as always, every vial and potion bottle in its place on the shelves. The only thing that appeared to be missing at all was a book on your shelf. You knew that book, too. It was a favorite of many of your customers, the ones with weathered skin or features that were not the golden standard of delicate, royal beauty. A book on glamours was not something that would be stolen away by any thief in the night, seeing as it wouldn’t be of much help at all without a dedicated practitioner.

It only really settles in for you that your apprentice snatched it away when you take a peek out of the window and your eyes settle on a darkened corner of the garden. Tall sprigs of lavender sprung up from the earth there, and an even taller man sat, legs crossed with your book in his lap beneath the milky glow of the moon.

König looks… agitated. Even from this distance, the glass and wall and several meters of organized plant life separating you, you can see his hands shaking as he ghosts his calloused fingertips over the pages. His shoulders tense and a fiery look in his eye. He reads the incantations aloud with proper annunciation, forced through his thick accent. Repeats them, several times over. Not a thing changes.

But you leave him be, return to bed, because despite him being your responsibility, his private matters are still his own. As much as you would like to snatch the book from his hands and confess through tears that he haunts your dreaming just as he is now, you can’t bring yourself to do so.

When the book is in its place the following morning with König still in his bed, you read over the pages heavily scented by lavender. The ones that tell you how he sees himself in truth without a single word from his own being. Too tall, too ugly, too ruined.

It’s not enough to say your heart breaks. You feel it shatter somewhere in your chest, little pieces crumbling down into the darkest pit of your middle. Perhaps he’s only doing this due to your careless words about your client the other day, perhaps he wants to be seen as something beautiful for once.

The day is spent with a heavy weariness in your eyes. König picks up some slack for you as you fester in a sadness that should not even be your own; prepares something meaty for you both to eat, incorrectly sweeps some dust from the wooden floors that you know you’ll have to properly clean later on, and even tends to the garden. He’s good with the plants, gentle as he plucks berries from their stems and cuts away only what was required with a sharp dagger.

While you’ve thrown yourself over a cushioned chair, König kneels before you to speak. He’s just finished telling you some gory tale about when he squired for Ser… something, a name you don’t even care to remember. It was a rare occurrence for him to open up, you’ve come to realize that. Maybe it was simply too soon for him, but then again, he seemed to have no qualms allowing you to hear his desperate howling at night or walk about after a bath with his cock fully erect in your line of sight. If words were too much then what the hell was all of that?

“How come you didn’t become a knight, König?” you ask him, your tone sounding a bit more dead than intended. It wasn’t that you weren’t interested in his stories, you were simply still coming to terms with one of his likely innumerable secrets. “The Guild said you were a good candidate, so why?”

You ask your questions, his eyes light up. He’s not used to this, it seems, and the fact that you want to know him at all makes him giddy. His fingers drum against his thighs, eyes creasing at the corners as he smiles beneath that veil and you wonder… wonder how the world could be cruel to someone like this at all when all that you want to do is bundle up with him beneath your thick quilts and kiss him in places only lovers would.

He doesn’t respond to your question, though. Another secret for some other time, you supposed. Instead, he asks his own, “Why are you so alone?”

König speaks freely, you knew that well enough but the words that escape his lips cause you to freeze all the same. His tone is neutral, not accusatory or mocking, but there’s something— something there you can’t properly uproot.

“I’m not lonely.” A little white lie couldn’t be too terrible, yet the thought of betraying your companion in even such a small way, hurting him like you assumed so many others had before is just unthinkable. “I am sometimes, but I like living here,” you correct.

“But you are alone,” he insists.

“I am not. You’re here.”

Your words are like a charm, really, and any rationale König may have had immediately dissipates when you speak them. He climbs over you, the chair creaking under your combined weight as he looks down at you with this hope-filled expression that tugs every one of your heartstrings at once. “Let me kiss you.”

His shallow breathing flutters his veil, the hunger in his eyes more than apparent, and you’ve the sense that a mere kiss would not suffice, turning into a long night with an impossible soreness between your thighs come morning.

You shake your head and he backs off immediately, returning to sit on the floor before you instead with a simple, “Okay.”

The room falls silent for a moment. You wanted to. You’ve been longing to. And yet the opportunity had gone and went; for any normal, sane person your rejection would have been enough. Weeks spent in his company should have taught you that König was a far cry from normal. The man treats you like you’re a doll, not a seasoned witch. Takes to hiding away from any company you may have and spends his nights outside in the dark wishing and failing to change what he was.

“If I tell you why I am not a knight will you kiss me?,” he tries again as you shift to sit upright in your seat.

“What? König, no… that’s not how—”

“I will court you,” he interjects quickly, rising to his feet to stare down at you. The man was practically buzzing with excitement, and you wonder if he intends to bolt out of the house right then to bring back ample gifts of flowers and fine silks just for a chance to mash his mouth against your own.

“You’re not here to court me,” you huff with a pinched brow. Stop making this harder! Why must you always make this harder?!

“I think about you at night.”

The giant professes his affections by telling you that he’s fucking his fist to the thought of you with all the simplicity of idle talk. Somehow, that seemed less alarming than the fact that you don’t even seem horrified. Words fail you when you desperately need them most, merely gaping up at him so dumbly you must have actually belayed interest, because he continues.

“In the river too.”

“König… that’s inappropriate,” you manage to find your voice then. You know that you’re a plaster saint, too, because the thought of bathing where he spreads his seed sends a swell of warmth from your tummy to the aching blossom between your legs.

“Ja, it is… why do you tease me? The way you look…” He trails off with a shake of his head, his blue eyes narrowing in confusion. He was trembling as though afraid, so violently you almost fear he’ll come crashing over you like an ocean wave. You would catch him, drown in salt water and foam, a curtain of sharp teeth and darkness.

He fidgets as he waits for an answer that never comes. What could you say? Admit that the way he feels is a mirror of yourself, that the two of you are only seconds from diving into a pool that you could never resurface from.

But just like before, König retreats up the shadowy staircase, up to his room. Another reprieve, another stone weighing heavy in the recesses of your mind.

— — —

Secrets are stupid, evil things you decide.

You’re staring into the glazed eyes of a dead buck as it stands before you on it’s hind legs. It’s head hangs limply from its broken neck, mouth gaping with each fragile intake of breath. It’s bloated belly leaks it’s own entrails as it takes a shaky step towards you, trying desperately to kick at you with the stiff limbs tucked against its chest.

“I don’t know how to make it go away,” König pants at your side, and despite his shallow, rapid breathing there’s this calm look in his eyes. This has happened before. This has happened before and to a far worse extent than a deer.

It makes sense, now, why something as trivial as casting a glamour simply didn’t work for König. The man was touched by something darker, something the King’s men would happily cut his head from his shoulders for. Necromancy was immoral and frankly, horrifying. Seeing it now, it was really no wonder why this sort of magic would send one directly to the headsman.

The deer huffs a breath, too long and ragged. It’s not used to breathing any more, after all. König steps between you two, his dagger raised. “Just… close your eyes.”

It’s over as quickly as it’s manifested and König does well at shielding you from the aftermath, your face pressed to his chest as he pulls you into his arms and walks you back home. What was meant to be a simple practicing session, resulted in chaos, and you’ve no words to give to fill the silence hanging over the two of you as he finally deposits you by the door.

You stand on shaking legs, a million questions swimming through your mind, but even as you part your lips to speak not a single sound comes out.

He looks exasperated when he finally remedies the quiet. “You’re afraid of me.” It’s not a question, only a resounding fact.

“No,” you lie immediately with a firm shake of your head.

“I will go.” König’s eyes are tired, always tired. He’s already slinking back towards the door when you reach for him, almost clawing at the length of his sleeve in your own desperation. If you were cursed this man was, tenfold, and you couldn’t bear the thought of sending him back out into a world that had hurt him so. One that would assuredly end his torment should this ever happen again. You don’t know whether you’re being merciful or selfish anymore; the definitions all a blur. You only know that the thought of König leaving your side feels like the ache of a thorn embedded in your heart.

“König, please— We can figure something out, we’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again,” you huff as you bury your face against his shoulder. He’s both tense and trembling beneath your warmth. “I just need time to think.”

He cocks his head, a resounding twinkle of mirth breaking through the listlessness in his eyes. “Why?”

König isn’t dull-witted. He knows the words you never have a chance to speak. No one’s ever held fast to his side like this; no one has ever truly wanted him.

You know that the second he pushes his veil up and presses his mouth to yours. It’s clumsy, the force he uses, as if he’s trying to headbutt you instead of give you his affection, but you reciprocate in turn. You breathe shakily against him when you finally bring yourself to part your lips and he immediately begins to languidly lap into your mouth, drawing his arms around you; one finding the base of your neck as the other settles on your lower back, his fingers digging into your velvet dress, bunching up the fabric enough to reveal the meat of your ass.

You both moan as though you’re already having sex, caught up in a tangle of limbs he tastes your mouth as though it were sweet wine; his tongue flicks against your own before pulling back, lapping at your lip, pushing back in in some steady repetition that makes your knees weaker. Your hands find the hem of his tunic, slipping beneath it to feel a wall of muscle layered over his abdomen and he groans into the kiss with such fervor you would think he’s already come. He tears the cloth off the second you thumb over his nipple and drops to his knees clutching at your thighs.

“I need to taste you.” He sounds so desperate, looks so pitiful as though he’ll cry if you don’t allow him to fuck you with his tongue. You’re too far gone to give him anything more than a nod, and he all-too-readily lifts the skirt of your dress, hooks his finger around the seat of your panties and buries his face between your thighs. The first sweeps of his tongue are almost punishing; he wastes no time plowing the muscle into your cunt, writhing and grinding it against your velvety walls. The sound is already obscene, but then he begins to moan.

He sounds even more desperate than those nights in his lonely room, somehow, as he paws at his own erection straining against his trousers and drives into your pussy at a feverish pace. When he finally moves to take your clit between his lips, you grasp at the top of his head to keep yourself upright, moaning so loudly you’re certain that the entire kingdom could hear. He hums, amused at this, places his hands on your ass and pushes your hips for you to grind against his tongue.

When he jerks your panties aside again to rub circles against your asshole, the tautly pulled coil inside of you finally snaps. You curl over him as you mewl, cradling his head as his tongue pushes against your labia and your slit to lap up every bit of your essence. He releases his grip on your ass as you tremble, strokes himself freely below you as he pants against your pulsing cunt. Graciously, he gives you a moment to recover before he’s rising to his feet, tearing off your ruined panties and lifting you in his arms just enough to rub his leaking tip against you, you give him a strangled cry of his name when his length brushes against your swollen clit.

“Let me fuck you,” he rasps, his eyes wide and pupils blown as you squirm in his arms. “Bitte. Please. Let me fuck you.”

“Yes— Please, please fuck me König,” you whine as your arms curl over his shoulders. He doesn’t hesitate when he lies you back against your rug and pushes your knees up to your chest. His fingers flex against your flesh at the sight of your pussy still twitching from aftershocks, soaked down to your ass and pleading to be filled by him. He drops a hand to spread your lips, groaning deeply from his chest as he watches in awe as the tip of his thick cock sinks into you.

You hadn’t realized just how dirty König was until you see that look in his eye, pulling his head out only to repeatedly push into you with a choked whine of sheer bliss. You hadn’t realized how filthy you were until you find yourself tucking your arms beneath your knees to keep yourself in position so he can grope at the flesh of your ass as he does it.

“So— fuck— so schön,” he mutters as he continues to tease you like this. It’s almost hell the way he still hadn’t filled you entirely when you ache to have that long, ugly pillar buried so far it’s bruising your very womb, and it’s almost heaven the way you squeeze against him with each shallow thrust, your pussy desperate to devour his weapon of flesh.

“König…” You’re breathing his name as though it were a prayer, and as though a gift from the heavens his calloused thumb begins to rub over your clit the moment he finally sinks himself into you. There’s resistance, your cunt wasn’t meant to take a cock so large, you’re certain, but he bottoms out after what feels like an eternity, parts your knees with one hand to see your face as he gasps. You take him all, enveloping him in a vise grip and he hissed something in his native tongue, a string of words you can only imagine are praise because the way he’s looking at you now is as if he’s found a goddess all for himself.

“I’m going to fill you,” he declares as he lowers himself atop you, his weight almost crushing. “I’m going to… feels so…” His words fall short as he begins to move, groping at one of your tits as his other hand remains over your mound, flicking your clit. König’s fingers trace against your nipple before pinching it just hard enough to draw a choked mewl from you as your back arches. “Ja, liebling… you need it..”

His pace picks up, thumb deftly rolling over your clit until you spasm around his cock. It’s savage, the fervor he puts into fucking into you, grinding the tip of his cock against your cervix until you cry out, only to draw back enough to bully against your g-spot until you shiver. Your orgasm hits you so unexpectedly and so hard your bite down on your lip enough to draw blood. König licks at your mouth as your sex pulses around him, groaning in tandem with your pretty cries.

He trails small kisses along your throat before biting down as his own climax hits. He alternates between spitting out words that sound like pure venom and moans that make him sound weak as he gives you one more thrust. His cock twitches so violently inside of you as he presses against your cervix your mind entirely blanks. You can’t tell if it’s his semen or your own slick spilling past his cock, painting your thighs when it all ends. You hang limply against him as he carries you over to the chair, keeping you plugged as he pulls you into his lap.

He fully unclothes you as he peppers your face and neck in sweet, open-mouthed kisses, pets you from the crown of your skull down to your back, brings a hand around your waist to pull you close as his other squeezes and squishes at your breasts. König’s gaze is adoring as your eyes meet his, he’s looking at you with a love you’ve never even known, the warmth of summer somehow still present in those eyes like glaciers.

“Will you stay?,” you force yourself to ask as if the answer isn’t already clear, his cock’s still buried in you and the man seemed utterly in love after merely having a sweaty, adrenaline addled session.

König presses his face into your hair, nuzzling at you as he kisses your temple. “You want me to stay?” He sounds bewildered, so fucking broken that he’s confused by the prospect anyone would even want him around, even if he just gave her the best fuck she’s ever had, even if she’s been staring at him adoringly since he found his way to her door.

“Of course I want you to stay!”

“Then… Ja, I will.”

It’s a declaration of love, in a sense.

König drops his hands to your hips as he kisses you again. The desperation has been strangled, buried someplace in your core. It’s sweet now when his kisses become sloppy and overwhelming. He shifts below you as he maneuvers your hips to grind against him, his length already hardening within you again. He noses at your jaw and pressed kisses to your cheeks when you take a moment to breathe. You curl your arms around him and bury your face into the crook of his neck as your ride him, the both of you moaning soft and panting against sweaty flesh. He finishes inside of you once more just as you lift his veil and kiss along his scars.

He bathed you in the river, carrying you down to the rocky shore as though you were a treasure, his hand stroking through your hair as the water laps over your bodies. It’s not enough to simply hold you, either, because one bath becomes two after he’s bent you over a stump and licked you to completion again before rutting into you like an animal.

Nights are no longer spent with a wall between, he takes to your bed without question, ensures you’re comfortable and warm as he holds you through the night. There’s a sort of desperation in you both, two outsiders that have finally found sanctuary in one another.

“I love you.” Followed by: “I love you.”

You’re not entirely sure who says it first.

— — —

“A deer?”

There’s a man in your home that you don’t recognize, looking you over as though you were well-bred cattle rather than a human being at all. Says he’s concerned about a potential necromancer after something foul slipped its way past the castle walls and paraded itself through an annual ball, sullying a few too-expensive and uncomfortably layered dresses and goring a man with its antlers.

König was seated in front of him, rigid with a forced calm you had never seen on him before, hands clasped and unmoving. You know he’s nervous anyway, his shallow breathing speaks volumes for what the veil keeps from you. You round the table to bring them both tea, trying your best to play the part of indifference as the two men speak.

König had said he didn’t know how to make it go away, and of course he didn’t, because how do you kill something that’s already died? Neither of you would have anticipated it finding its way there of all places, and in retrospect, you’re not even certain that the thought came to mind at all, you had lost yourselves in one another the moment you arrived home. Seeing as you both were the only magic-touched folks roving these woods, it was obvious why The Guild had sent this creep to question you.

“Yes. A large buck, it was,” the man continues, winking at you as he takes a sip of the warm liquid in the mug. You wished you had poisoned it, ridding the world of a man that made your skin crawl like this surely wouldn’t be too sinful. Looking to König, you realize that there’s no need for poisons, because the look in his eyes suggests that before this interrogation is over your rug will have a more stubborn stain than spilled potions and come.

“We use green magic,” you chime in flatly, giving König a moment to quiet his fury as the man turns his attention back to you. “Maybe a traveler slipped into the kingdom, it has nothing to do with König and myself. Why are you here?”

If he hadn’t already told you a thousand times earlier that morning when he took you in the garden, laid you down in a bed of blue and purple wildflowers, König would have told you he loved you right then. You were true, protecting him and risking your own head as well.

“That’s the thing,” the man begins with a laugh entirely devoid of amusement. “Your apprentice here was under similar scrutiny while he was in service to the king. A dead man brought back to life…” he waves his hand as he speaks, staring up at the ceiling as though he’s recounting poetry instead of listing the reasoning why he wanted to have your lover decapitated. “… killed ten good knights. We never suspected him at the time, but all of this…” He shrugs his shoulders and raises his brow, looking somehow even more insufferable than before.

You cross the room to gather the letter signed off by The Guild, detailing your apprentice’s arrival and thrust it into the man’s face. “He would have never passed any sort of eligibility exam if that were the case, and you sent him here.”

The man takes the letter with a click of his tongue before he laughs again. “We didn’t,” he says as he taps the signature at the bottom, hardly a signature at all, only a messy scrawl, the guild master’s name even spelled incorrectly.

König didn’t meet your gaze when you looked to him then.

You made a promise to him you would figure this all out, and you would. You just needed to buy some time, slip some wolfsbane into his tea—

“On behalf of The Guild, I do apologize for the trouble this monster has caused…”

There is no time.

“I’ll be sure that he and his rotting pets are disposed of prop—“

You’re clutching at the dagger König had left on the side table without even thinking it over, fingers curled so tightly around the grip, your knuckles felt alight. The man’s voice is silenced the moment he notices as he takes a wary step away from you. It’s not, really, that you could ever even see yourself taking a life, you never have, but the thought of losing König over a horrible chance in the stars that some uncaring god cursed him with makes bile crawl up the back of your throat and white hot fury course through your veins with all the subtlety of a stampede.

It wasn’t his fault.

König places himself between the two of you and curls his arm around you protectively. If lying for him hadn’t already resigned you to the same fate, drawing the dagger assuredly had. He gently pries the dagger from your hand and tucks your face against his chest, just as he had before when he tried to correct the accidental gift of life he had bestowed to the deer, only this time… you feel the pull of his muscles, you hear sounds of the dagger meeting it’s mark as he cuts through the interrogator’s tender flesh. It takes mere seconds for you to know his blade has struck true, the dying man eliciting a weak gurgling cry from his torn throat as König drops the dagger to the floor with a clatter and strokes your hair.

He makes you stand outside while he cleans up his mess.

A sane woman would run, she would count her losses and look back on her time spent with this unhinged man with criticism. You find that you are not a sane woman when you realize the tears falling freely down your cheeks are not of fear or anger at your own situation, but at the knowledge that he’s suffered being shunned on his own for so long; that he’s killed without remorse because this is what it takes for someone like him to survive at all.

When he finally returns from burying the body and scrubbing the blood from your floor, you readily embrace him and he nuzzles into your hair.

“Es tut mir leid,” he huffs out against you, pulling you so close to him you think, pray, he’ll never let go. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” It’s not and you both know it, but you reassure him with your words and soft kisses to his cheeks as he wipes away your tears. “We can not stay here.”

We. Us. Together.

Something breaks in him at your words, and he shuts his eyes tightly to fight back the tears like claws at his eyes.

“So, tell me where we’ll go.”

He tells you of a place he read about in a book, somewhere across the sea and past a stretch of hills where the accidents he may cause won’t have him looked upon like a monster, where you can love one another in comfort, a place he’s dreamed about since he was a boy and found out just what he was when he reanimated his mother’s beloved cat. He tells you of his father’s cruelty, that a cat’s claws aren’t the only thing that’s left him riddled with scar tissue.

He tells you everything as you pack your things and begin a long walk to a shoddy harbor by the sea, his hand in your own as your board the ship to a new home, a new beginning.

#könig #konig #konig x you #könig x you #könig x reader #konig x reader #konig fanfiction #cod fanfic #könig fanfiction #cod fanfiction

822 notes · View notes

allysunny · 9 months

Text

Shadows to Stars | Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Synopsys: One night, your seemingly perfect life with your boyfriend Miguel crumbles before your very eyes. It is then you must make a decision that will change the course of your life forever - as well as the course of the life growing inside of you.

Words: 12k

Warnings: Angst, violence, mentions of death and abortion, pregnancy, Miguel is scary and a bitch. Spanish translations will be at the end. Do tell if I forgot something!

A/N: Hey everyone! Here's the super long oneshot I promised you all I would deliver! Since in both polls I made, the majority of y'all voted for one post, I'm posting this as one big drabble. Honestly, it kind of transformed as I was writing it, and I got carried away. Beware, Miguel is a monster in here, he is NOT a good person and I do not condone his actions in this work.

Also, quick aside, I'm using my own experience with toddlers and kids (namely my little sister) to shape some of the dialogue. Kids are very smart, and oftentimes we don't give them enough credit. I tried to keep this realistic!

The song mentioned is Querida by Juan Gabriel - I suggest listening to it!

Enjoy! :)

“This is such bullshit.” Was the first thought that crossed your mind. That’s not how gravity worked. The impossible stunt performed by the actor in the TV left you unimpressed, and you scolded yourself mentally for it. You sound exactly like him. Just enjoy the movie, will you?

You shake your head with a sigh, focusing on the screen in front of you. You’d been meaning to watch this one for a while, all your friends said it was simply the best of the saga just yet. “I can’t believe they’re making another one, just let the saga die!” You replied, but your best friend Miranda was quick to disagree. “How could they, after ending the last one in such a cliffhanger?” She was defending the movie as if her life depended on it. “Besides, Com Truise looks really hot in this one, he’s aging like fine wine”.

So here you were, trying to figure out how the hell Wethan Runt was gonna get himself out of this situation. This was the… Sixth? Seventh? Seventh Improbable Endeavor movie so far, and you wondered why they couldn’t just let the series die. It was simply too much at this point, a way to milk a famous franchise in order to earn money.

“Mommy?” A small, tremulous voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked at where it came from.

A small child looked at you from behind the living room door, his hand tightly clutching a teddy bear. Your son had just turned 4 and was the most precious thing the world had ever blessed you with. With soft brown curls and [e/c] eyes, he looked like a little cherubin, all chubby cheeks and dimpled smiles. You adored him.

“Yes, baby? What’s wrong?” You asked, furrowing a brow. However, there was no need for a reply. You knew what the answer was already. “Another one?”

Gabriel nodded softly, tears forming in his eyes, and fear turning in his tummy.

“The same?”

He nodded again, the tears now rolling down his round cheeks. The sight of your pouting son broke your heart. For a few months now he had been plagued with the same nightmare repeatedly: A brightly coloured spider sinking its teeth onto him, proceeding to devour him whole right after. It wasn’t a pleasant dream, and unfortunately, it felt too familiar. Not to you, but perhaps to someone who once used to be close.

“Oh honey…” Your voice was soft, as it usually was with Gabriel. You knew nothing else when you were with him. “I’m so sorry… C’mere baby, do you want to sleep near mommy tonight?”

Gabriel shook his head “yes” softly, a small breath leaving his mouth. He was glad you’d asked him that. He didn’t want to look like a baby, not in front of his mom. Not when she told him he was her brave boy all the time. He had to be a brave boy for his mama.

“Mama…” He breathed out, tears pooling at his feet. “Mama I’m sorry…”

“Honey?” Now you were worried. He looked so scared; your precious baby looked so scared. “Honey, c’mere…”

“I can’t…” He whispered, shaking his little head. “Mama I had an accident… I’m sorry… I made the bed wet…”

Your heart officially broke.

Motherly instinct was stronger than you, and within a few seconds, you had picked Gabriel up, shushing him and running your fingers through his brown locks.

“It’s okay honey, it’s okay…” You cooed as he buried his face on the crook of your neck, hiding away from all the troubles, from all the monsters and creepy spiders that threatened to hurt him. His mama always made the monsters go away. You were his hero. “You’re such a brave boy, it’s okay… I’m not mad at you, alright? You’re so brave for me…”

Your hushed words were quick to soothe him. He stopped crying, occasionally sniffling and rubbing his eyes from the sleep.

You took him to the bathroom, quickly washed him and gave him a new pair of underwear. Gabriel knew how to use the toilet – potty training was never a problem because to him, the toilet meant he was a “grown up”. He was quick to tell you when he needed to use the bathroom, causing you to leave the diapers behind. Unfortunately, nightmares didn’t care about that.

He looked at you while you got rid of his wet sheets, throwing them in the washing machine, and his eyes were full of adoration while you prepared him his favourite chocolate milk.

Once he had finished it, you turned off the TV – Com Truise would have to wait – and took Gabriel to your room in your arms.

He made himself comfortable on your bed, teddy carefully placed by his side, and you followed suit after quickly brushing your teeth.

“I’m sorry mama…” He mumbled once again. “Maybe I’m not brave enough…”

“Nothing to be sorry about, honey. It’s okay. You’re still my brave little boy. You’ll always be.” Bending over, you placed a soft kiss on his forehead, and he smiled, which made your heart melt. For all the sadness and hurt you’d gone through and suffered, Gabriel was the best thing that had happened to you. He was an amazing kid: curious, kind to a fault, and oh so cute. Of course, it didn’t help that he was like a mini-version of his father, but you’d learned to live with it.

After all, he wasn’t a little Miguel O’Hara. He was simply Gabriel, your sweet Gabriel who marvelled at thunderstorms and loved broccoli but hated tomatoes. Who liked to play in puddles and splash around at the beach, who giggled uncontrollably when you tickled his little tummy.

“Can you sing the song for me?” He asked, voice laced with sleep. And you couldn’t find it in yourself to refuse your son in any way. You nodded and tucked his teddy closer and caressed his cheek.

“Of course, my love.”

You took a short breath and started singing.

“Querido Cada momento de mi vida Yo pienso en ti más cada día Mira mi soledad, mira mi soledad Que no me sienta nada bien, oh ven ya”

Miguel had taught you this song. It was one of his favourites, and you used to sing it to him when he felt stressed or tired. His head on your chest, on your lap, on your neck, your hands running through his hair, his heart on your palm, yours on his. The original song was meant for a girl. Querida was a woman. But you’d adjusted it for him, and never had the courage to change it back.

It was a song of heartbreak, of longing and hurt.

How fitting.

“Querido No me ha sanado bien la herida Te extraño y lloro todavía Mira mi soledad, mira mi soledad Que no me sienta nada bien, oh ven ya”

Glancing at the little one, you chuckled to yourself. Gabriel fell asleep quite quickly, especially when you sang for him. This was his favourite song too, and you’d gotten used to singing it to him nearly every night before he went to sleep.

For a few minutes, you stared at your son. Soon enough, after he’d fallen into a deep slumber, you adjusted his rebellious curls and brought him close to you, his little hand instinctively coming up to wrap itself around your finger.

It’s impossible to describe the love you felt for Gabriel. You’d do anything for him, walk to the ends of the earth if it meant he would smile and look at you with his bright curious eyes. What was there not to love? You couldn’t figure that out. And you couldn’t shake away the memory of when you first asked yourself that question. Not when it used to play in your head every night, no matter how hard you tried to keep it from your thoughts.

The paper read “Test indicates the presence of hCG hormone, confirming pregnancy”.

Oh.

You were pregnant.

If the cheap pharmacy test wasn’t enough proof, now you were absolutely positive you were pregnant.

You. Pregnant.

A mother.

You were going to be a mother.

And Miguel was going to be a father.

Was it possible to die of happiness? You always felt like you were floating with Miguel, but this was different. The thought that you had a little human, a baby, a child, a mini-you growing inside of your uterus? It was too much. To say you were over the moon was an understatement.

That day, you cooked Miguel his favourite.

You got him his favourite wine, mentioning how you were “feeling too light-headed to drink”, but inviting him to do so anyways.

You wore the dress he loved so much, the one that, according to him, made you look like “a princesa”.

Before he arrived, you placed the paper sheet with the results inside an envelope. Taking the lip gloss shade he loved so much, you painted your lips and placed a soft kiss on top of the envelope, the red stain its only decoration.

And just as you hid it within your apron, the doorbell rang.

“Miggy!” You exclaimed, running towards him.

Miguel looked tired – eyebags ever so prominent, face tired and devoid of any emotion. But these features changed once he laid his eyes on you. The exhaustion almost as if evaporated from him, the tired look replaced by a warm smile.

His arms wrapped around you instinctively, head coming to trail his lips over your collarbone, humming ever so slightly – if you didn’t know your boyfriend, you’d think he was silent.

“Amor…” He groaned, hands squeezing your waist, lips caressing your skin.

“Rough day?”

“Would sewing a bunch of kids’ mouths shut make me a bad person? Answer me honestly mi Cielo, I trust your good judgement…” Was his mumbled reply.

You laughed, skimming your hand through his hair, as the other rubbed soothing circles on his back.

“It wouldn’t be the most moral thing to do, no.”

“Mierda.”

Your laughter filled the room and it was healing. It lifted all his worried, carrying them to a place far, far from your soft touches and kind words. You were his safe space, his little secret. For all the technological advances he had access too, Miguel found the best remedy to be purely and simply you. And didn’t you look extra pretty today?

You were always breathtaking, but that dress… Surely you knew what his thoughts on that dress were. You had to be doing it on purpose.

So, he let you lead him to the shower, covering his body with sweet kisses and kneading the tense and sore muscles of his back and shoulders. He let you wash his hair, giggling as you played with it, turning his soapy curls into a mohawk. He let you cover his body with body milk, rambling on about “it makes his skin so soft and healthy”.

He loved you. How could he not? What was there not to love?

And you loved him back just as much.

The way Miguel smiled as he took bite after bite of your food. He refused to talk about his day, claiming it’d only make him angrier. He’d much rather hear about yours.

So, you did just that, telling him about the things you did, the places you went. The new supermarket that opened just down the street with fresh fruit, the old market where you got the meat he’s eating right now, etc.

You were always out and about, keeping yourself busy while he saved Nueva York, volunteering, working with children, helping elderly people, or perhaps, if you were feeling lazy and tired, maybe just lounging around with a book in your hand.

It was when Miguel offered to do the dishes that you realised it was now or never. Time to shoot your shot.

You waited patiently for him, leading them to the couch once the kitchen was sparkling once again, and sat him next to you on the couch.

“Miguel, there’s something I wanna show you…” Was how you started. Goodness, had you always been this nervous? Were your hands this clammy? Why weren’t any words coming out of your mouth? Your breath was quickening, and a million questions were running freely through your head.

You didn’t think this through, did you? What if he’s not happy? But that is impossible, right? You two spoke about this. Miguel wanted a baby. So did you. You knew of his past, knew of Gabriella. But you also knew he was healing. You saw it happen before your very eyes. First there were the small glances, the small comments about baby clothing, and then there were conversations of children, of family. And of course, there was the trying. In fact, Miguel was more than invested in trying for a baby. “Just give me one more,” He’d whisper in the intimacy of your bedroom, “Wanna make sure it takes.” And you were soft and giddy and in love and oh so pliant for him.

And yet, it could go wrong. So many things could go wrong.

“Mi vida, what’s wrong? You look worried…” Miguel furrowed his brow, hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the way he did when he wanted to see your face more clearly. His face had “worry” written all over it, and it’d be funny, if you yourself weren’t shaking with anxiety.

“Yes, I… I’m fine, just… Give me some time.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

Nothing would go wrong. Miguel loves you. Endlessly, and he’ll love your child just the same. You’re sure of it.

“I need to show you something.” You said more clearly, looking him in the eye. “I… I love you, Miguel. So, so much. Unimaginably so. I love you. I love everything about you.”

He smiled. A genuine smile, one saved for you and only you.

“I love you too, mi vida. Te amo con todo mi ser. Eres la luz de mi vida.”

Shit, it did things to you. Him speaking Spanish, that was. You’d been learning, just for him, and while you weren’t yet a professional, you’d picked on his endearing phrases quite early. In fact, those were the first you learned – you wanted to be able to understand the sweet nothings he whispered to you in the comfort of your home.

“I… I’m scared you won’t… At least not anymore, when I show you this…” You confessed with bated breath, shrugging your shoulders ever so slightly. Communicating your worries and fears with Miguel had never been an issue. He was very open, telling you whatever was on his mind with no hesitation. It had taken a while, but now he trusted you fully, and your relationship was based on trust and understanding.

“Mi vida…” He murmured, fingers slowly cupping your jaw. “Unless you ate the last empanada in the cafeteria, there’s nothing you could do that would make me love you less…” It got a chuckle out of you, and a smile out of him. Good. It was all he ever wanted to see; you with a smile on your face.

“Well then…” The words were muffled by the ruffling of your apron.

You took out the envelope and sighed.

This was it.

It was now or never.

Fuck, you were going to puke. This was simply too much. You were so worried, so scared.

But before you could do anything, he had carefully taken the envelope in his hands and opened it, smiling at the lipstick stain.

Oh god. This was it.

He unfolded the paper.

There was no turning back now.

He read the words attentively, curious about what had gotten you so worked up. You observed his face, his calm demeanour, his brow furrowing, his lips parting, his eyes widening-

“What?”

It was nearly imperceptible, but it was there, and you heard it.

His eyes scanned over the words again.

And then again.

And then again and again and again and again, until his fists clenched the paper, and he was turning away from you.

“Estás… Estás embarazada…?”

“Miggy…?” You tried getting a glimpse of his expression, but he refused to look at you again.

“Is this true…? You’re pregnant?” There was something in his voice, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. Grief, perhaps? Anger? Surprise?

His knuckles turned white, and the paper sheet was quickly torn in two.

“M-Miguel?” Your eyes went to his knuckles and the paper. Oh no. This couldn’t be good. There’s no way this is good.

“You’re PREGNANT?” He turned to face you, his eyes a dark shade of red. His voice boomed and you flinched. It was an instinct, truly. The paper was left forgotten on the floor as he balled his fists in his lap, as if he was restricting himself.

“Aren’t you happy?” The words left your mouth as a mere whisper, all of the confidence and bravado from earlier completely gone. What the hell was going on with Miguel? He looked angry, feral, like… No, you did not want to think about it. Surely, he was just a bit surprised, right? That must be all. “Miggy? Aren’t you ha- “

“How did this happen?!” He growled, and you could do all but scoff. Was he actually serious? Did he not know how pregnancies happened? Did he not know how babies were made? Wasn’t he there when you two were actively trying to get you pregnant?

“Gee, Miguel, I don’t know, maybe it happened one of the times you pushed me up against the kitchen sink or the couch as soon as you got home, claiming you ‘needed me so badly’. Maybe it happened because we’ve been trying for a baby, because you said you were ready to start a family with me.” Was he being serious right now? It’s not like birth control was 100% effective – you had always warned him of that – and it’s not like he always used protection – something you both discussed as well. So how come he was asking ‘how it had happened?’. “We don’t always use protection, you know, these things happen- “

“How could you let this happen?!” Miguel stood up, his frame towering over you. And for once in your life, you felt something you’d never even imagined you’d fear when with Miguel – let alone because of him: fear.

“What? Me?” Your eyes widened, refusing to believe the words that he’d just uttered. “How is this my fault? Last time I checked, it took two people to make a baby, Miguel. And you wanted one. Holy – Miguel, what is wrong with you? We’ve been wanting a child for so long!” It wasn’t until the tears hit your palms that you realised you were crying. It hit you shortly after, Miguel made you cry. “Honey, please, just… Aren’t you happy?” You forced a smile through the tears, hoping to get him as excited as you were.

“Happy?!”

“Yeah!” Tear after tear escaped from your eyes, tracing paths down your face. You’d been so excited to find out you were going to be a mother. Fantasizing about holding your child, caressing their chubby cheeks, watching as you and Miguel doted over the tiny human that was both a mixture of him and you. And now those fantasies were shattered as Miguel paced back and forth in your living room, giving you a look that could kill you by itself. “I thought… I thought you wanted a family with me…! You said so Miggy, you told me you wanted to start a family…”

He all but scowled and threw a punch at a wall, cracking the surface around his fist. You flinched once again, shaking your head repeatedly. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t your Miggy, no. This wasn’t the man that whispered the sweetest words in your ear, who woke you up with gentle kisses, who placed gentle hands on your stomach and wondered about the family you would once start.

“Clearly, I changed my mind.” Your boyfriend – no, because there was no way this man was your boyfriend – rumbled, removing his hand from the wall, and inspecting it. “I… We… [Y/N], we can’t. Perdóname. I’m sorry. I know what I said, but… No. This is out of the question.”

“I don’t get it,” You shook your head. This whole thing seemed so farfetched – Miguel wanted a child. He had told you as much. Hell, you two had been trying for a baby. On purpose. How could he just tell you “No”? “Miguel, we wanted this. I’m pregnant because we wanted to start a family, because you told me you were ready and wouldn’t love anything more other than me holding your child, Miguel, I’m pregnant because we wanted this! And you need to take responsibility for your actions, you can’t just blame me for this when we were bo-“

“I don’t have to do anything. This is completely out of the question. I thought I wanted a child, well, turns out I don’t.” He was spitting the words so viciously, you could’ve easily mistaken them for poison. “Having a child now would complicate things too much.”

“Complicate?”

“Yes, complicate. Our lives shouldn’t be changing too drastically because of a baby. I’m sorry, [Y/N], but we can’t. We just… No. “ He didn’t even have the decency of facing you. He was looking at the hole he’d punched into the wall, frowning.

“But Miguel…” You pleaded. You truly couldn’t understand what was happening. You could not understand why he wasn’t thrilled, excited, over the moon, spinning you around as he kissed your face and pledged his undying love to you. Undeterred, you take your hand in his and place it on your stomach, on the place your child would live for a few months before you had the joy of holding him (or her) in your arms. A smile, albeit a small one, graced your features once again. “We’ve been… We’ve been wishing for this…”

Miguel took a good look at you. He glanced up and down, taking your figure in. Your red eyes, your runny nose, your puffy lips. The tears, the hurt in your gaze. All because of him. He was hurting you. You truly wanted this, didn’t you? And didn’t he want the same? Hadn’t he told you time and time again how much he wanted to start a family with you? Weren’t you trying? Wasn’t he finally healing?

So why was it that the only thing he felt for the growing foetus inside of you was disdain?

He removed his hand from yours and shook his head.

“Get rid of it.”

Your jaw dropped.

What?

“Miguel? Honey, I…”

“Get. Rid of it.” He spat, eyes glowing bright red. “Or I will.”

You stared at him, mouth slightly parted, heart turning and churning and burning and hurting oh so much. How could he? His child, his own child… How could he say such things? How could he be so merciless? How could he want to… to kill the child you’d loved so unconditionally, even if for the past few hours?

It was horrifying. There was no word for it, it was truly horrifying, the way your Miguel was treating this matter. You’d looked at him with tears in your eyes, hoping that something, anything would leave your lips. But he’d opened a portal and left for HQ, leaving you alone in the middle of your living room.

So, you did the only rational thing.

You ran.

Jessica had helped you, along with Peter B. Parker.

Both were parents, so not only did they understand the way you felt towards your unborn baby, but also encourage you in your decision to leave Miguel. It broke Peter’s heart to find out the man that took care of the Spider Society had threatened to hurt his child and pregnant wife in the way.

But much to his sadness, he would have to act as if everything was fine and dandy, as if this man hadn’t threatened to kill a foetus, as if he wasn’t a monster. Peter would have to keep on interacting with him normally, in order not to raise suspicion. And so would Jess.

So, they did.

All traces of your existence had been removed from your shared apartment. Clothes, shoes, blankets. Anything that he could use to get the faintest trace of where you were was brought along with you, only his things and his things alone left behind.

It broke your heart to do it, but you had no choice. It was him or your unborn child, and although you’d known of your pregnancy for only a few hours, you were willing to do anything to assure its safety already.

You laid low for a while. Found a nice apartment where you could start over and build a life for yourself and your little one. Peter and Jess couldn’t keep you from going outside, so instead of trapping you, they helped disguise you. Both your appearance and scent changed every time you left the safety of your new home, with Jessica’s motherly instinct helping you find safety in new wigs and robes.

And so, your pregnancy went smoothly.

But it’s not to say it was easy – far from it.

Watching a baby grow inside of you all by yourself was terrifying. Not only was it terrifying, but it was also heartbreaking. Especially when the father of said baby had threatened you and him. It was even worse when you heard from Jessica that he was actively looking for you, coaxing every Spider in the Spider-Society to find you and destroy whatever was growing in your womb. How could he be so cruel? The possibility of someone killing your child just like that was frightening, but you managed to keep your fears aside for the well-being of your baby.

You could count with your fingers the peaceful nights you spent without a newborn toddler screaming and crying for your attention. For four whole years you were both mother and father, nursing and singing your baby to sleep whenever he was scared, kissing his wounds better, taking him to school, helping him talk and walk, watching him grow, looking over him the best you could.

There was no helping hand, no strong arms to hold your stomach during the day to ease your back pains, no soft rubs, and kisses on top of your belly at night, no proud displays of affection. When you gave birth to Gabriel, although surrounded by Peter and Jessica, there was no loving boyfriend or partner by your side, kissing your tears away, asking you to push, telling you you were “almost there”, holding your child in his arms and crying tears of joy, telling you you were oh so beautiful, to tell you that you were marvellous and miraculous and the most gorgeous woman alive.

While your heart could burst from the happiness of holding your son in your arms for the first time, it was also breaking at the realisation that, even if you had friends, there would be a major gap in your life that would scar you and your baby forever.

And there of course the questions. Gabriel was reaching his curious phase, and one time he had come home, asking why he did not have a daddy like his friends. That day you’d tried explaining it to him. You told him his father’s actions did not make you feel safe, and so you had to make the tough decision to protect the both of you and run away. You assured him that no matter what, you would love him unconditionally, that you were still a family, even if an unconventional one.

His reply was “Thank you mama, but I want a real daddy like my friends have!”

Tears streamed down your face until you fell asleep.

Gabriel was right. Even if he did not mean anything mean by it, even if his reply was something out of a clueless 3-year-old boy’s mouth and you shouldn’t take it to heart because he didn’t quite grasp the reality of your situation… It was still true. He needed a father, his father. You could try and try and try all you wanted, but he needed a father figure in his life, a role you’d never be able to fill.

The next day, you called Jessica and cried on her shoulders for a few hours while Gabriel was in school. She made up some stupid lie in order to be with you for the whole day, reminding you that children often said things they did not mean. Gabriel was a child; and children were way too straightforward, and it was not his intention to hurt you – wanting a father was a completely normal thing and you shouldn’t blame yourself for it.

But you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt.

At first, the life you shared with Gabriel was terrifying. What if Jessica said the wrong thing, or Peter made a mistake? Thankfully, they behaved remarkably well, always prioritizing your safety and well-being over their duties to Miguel. As time went by, more people were in on your little secret. And you couldn’t help but worry. What if Hobie decided to “stick it to the man” and inform Miguel of his son? What if Pav thought “the power of love” could fix everything? What if Gwen and Miles tried to talk some sense into his head?

But luckily for you, they were all as interested at keeping Gabriel under wraps as you were. And the reason it was so easy for you to keep Gabriel away from his father was also because of Lyla. She’d witnessed the whole exchange of course, being an artificial intelligent program meant that she was everywhere Miguel habited – and that meant his home. So, she too was in on your plan, keeping everything away from Miguel. Every visit from the Spider-People, every time Gwen or Miles babysat your kid, every time something remotely urgent happened, Lyla was there to cover your tracks, and everyone else’s.

You also suspected everyone else in HQ helped, refusing to let Miguel murder an innocent child, or even help him with it. You were grateful.

Miguel was completely in the dark, he had been for 4 whole years, and you were happy it was like this.

Your son got to grow up in peace, and you got to watch him. Or so you thought.

“Honey, have you washed your teeth?” You asked as your son made his way out of the bathroom. Before he could answer, you spotted the stain of toothpaste on his chin, and bent over to quickly wash it. “There. Dashing.”

Gabriel smiled a toothy grin at you. “I’m wearing my Snoopy PJs!”

“Well, you’ll always be dashing to me. Snoopy PJs or any other kind of PJs.” You poke his tummy softly and he bends over, as ticklish as always. Before you can open your arms and embrace him, your ringtone rings through the room. You wink at Gabriel and take your phone into your hands, looking at the name on the screen.

“Oh honey, it’s auntie Jess. Give me a few minutes and I’ll tuck you in, is that okay?”

“I wanna speak to auntie Jess!” He exclaimed excitedly, to which you nodded, before picking up.

“Hey Jess! What’s up?”

“He found you.” Was all you heard on the other line before you felt your stomach fall.

What?

You couldn’t make out her words at first, but slowly, everything around you came to your consciousness again.

“Take him and go. [Y/N], can you hear me? You have to leave. I’m so sorry, we don’t know how he found out, but you need to take him and leave, now.” Jessica repeated these words urgently like a chant, and yet, all you could do was stare at Gabriel, his big eyes round and bright, his head titled to the side as he often did when confused, the little triangle in his brow all Miguel O’Hara.

You couldn’t move. Miguel had found out.

Shit.

And then someone knocked on your door. Loudly. Repeatedly. The sound echoed and rang in your ears, and it was Gabriel who brought you back to your senses by hugging your leg.

“Mama?” He inquired, looking at the door.

“Stay here. You hear me? Stay here, do mama a favour and stay here. Can you do that?”

Gabriel gave you a quick salute, a smile playing in his lips. He probably thought this was some silly game in which he acted like a big boy and his mama high-fived him and made him some chocolate milk as a reward. But unfortunately for you, there was nothing silly about this.

Your feet slowly dragged themselves to the front door, and you mustered all of the strength you had to open it.

With a deep breath, you turned the knob and pushed it open, revealing no one other than the one you feared the most.

Miguel.

You try to block the entire door with your figure, but Miguel is tall. Incredibly so. And while it used to make you squirm and gush and blush, it now fills you with a sense of dread you cannot shake away.

He takes a step forward and you speak, voice sounding braver than you were feeling.

“Leave.”

“[Y/N].”

“Miguel, I’m warning you, leave.”

He grumbled something under his breath and took another step, looking directly under him – at you. You used to love when he did it. It made you feel safe, protected, cherished. Now all you want is for him to back off.

“I do not want to force you. Let me come in, or I’ll have to. Please. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.” The worst thing about Miguel was that when it came to you, he was always genuine. He never lied to you. And that did not change now. He looked almost… Scared. There was a mix of anger and sadness and… was that betrayal? In his eyes?

Nevertheless, it made you vulnerable. Such a hurtful expression from the one you once loved… You couldn’t lie and say it did not make your heart twist a few times.

“He threatened to kill your child. His child, too.” You told yourself, shaking all those soft feelings away. No use being weak, not when you wanted to protect your son.

Still, he looked genuine when he said he did not want to hurt you. And it’s not like you can take him on your own, the man is literally 6’9, built like a Greek god, and Spiderman. You wouldn’t stand a chance, and your son needs to be protected. So, you slowly back away from the door, keeping your front to Miguel and your back to Gabriel.

You take a few steps back and are about to ask him what he wants, when a small voice interrupts you.

“Mama? Who is this?” Your son, your sweet, caring, clueless son asked, his neck craning all the way up to get a good look at Miguel.

Gabriel was a big fan of Spiderman – much to your chagrin – so the thought that maybe Miguel was wearing his suit terrified you. The last thing you wanted was for your son to idolize the man who threatened to kill him while he was nothing more than just a foetus. You quickly turned, taking in Miguel fully.

He was clad in casual clothes, a white shirt underneath a black leather jacket. He was dressed normally, thank God.

Miguel’s eyes widened at the tiny voice, and he looked at the child before him.

His eyes widened.

It all clicked in his head.

His eyes darted from you to him, from him to you, over and over and over and over again. He seemed to be making the connection in his head. Soft brown curls, furrowed brow, tiny nose that resembled yours and bright eyes that belonged to none other than the woman he loved.

This was his son.

“Mama?” He asked once again, tiny hands grasping at the loose sweatpants you usually wore around the house. Tiny fists curled around the fabric as he hid behind you.

You stared, wide-eyed at Miguel. You were silently begging for him not to cause a scene, not here, not in front of your baby, most certainly not at all.

“Please…” You whisper, nudging your head towards the little guy by your feet.

After a few seconds of dead silence and a stare off, Miguel hung his head low and nodded. You sighed in relief.

“Honey, time for bed. Mommy’s gonna tuck you in, alright?” Gabriel nodded and clung to you as you picked him up securely in your arms. Tucking his little hair in the crook of your neck, you slowly took his scent in. Citrus shampoo, the lavender fabric conditioner you knew he liked, he smelled like your darling song through and through, untainted by the evil and darkness of the world, untainted by the hands and knowledge of his father.

Once he was all tucked in, teddy loyally by his side, Gabriel reached out to hold your hand in his tiny hand.

“Mama?” He probed quietly, drowsy eyes twinkling with the gentle glow his dinosaur lampshade.

“Yes, honey?” He was about to ask about the mysterious man in your living room, you were sure of it. You just weren’t quite sure what you were going to tell him yet. The truth? He couldn’t know. At least not now. Not when Miguel was just a few rooms away, waiting patiently for you. Not when you had no idea if he was still violent.

“Who is that man?” Gosh, he looked so much like his father. The furrowed brow, the squinted eyes, and pouty lips. When he was born, you huffed and puffed to Peter, saying how unfair it was that your son had inherited Miguel’s looks, even though you were the one breaking your back to carry him – and then later, take care of him.

“He’s… He’s an old friend.” Technically not a lie. Miguel had been your friend once.

“Is he the one in the pictures that make you cry?”

Oh.

What?

Noticing your confused expression, Gabriel spoke again, shrugging.

“Sometimes you cry in the living room when you look at pictures… Is he the one in them?”

Were children supposed to be this curious? Or perceptive?

How come he had picked up on you crying? It was true, sometimes your hands instinctively reached out to the old photo albums you kept on the top shelf of your living room wall cabinet, far from his reach.

There was no need to lie to your son – not when he was so smart and cared so much, not when he was so perceptive.

“Yeah, baby.” You sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He is.”

“Why do you cry? Did he do something to make you sad?” The worry in his eyes was inevitable. If the situation weren’t so scary, you’d laugh. Your sweet child, always so worried about you.

“Yeah, he did. He made mommy very sad, that’s why she cries.”

“Did you like him?”

Tears prickled at the corner of your eyes, and you fought them back. “Be strong”, you thought. You always played the part of the strong caretaker, the fearless mother who protected him against the dangers of the world – but right now, with Miguel waiting outside, you weren’t sure you were strong enough anymore.

“Yes, pumpkin. Very much. Very, very much.” You removed your hand from his hair and moved it to his round, chubby cheek. “Mommy loved her friend a lot. And I was very sad when he hurt me. Incredibly so.”

“Do you miss him?”

The question hung in the air.

Miguel was still asleep.

Today was one of those days he had decided to remain home, take a break from all the stressing Spiderman stuff and just relax.

He looked so handsome like this, lips slightly parted to breathe in and out, cheek smushed against his pillow, legs entwined with yours, arm lazily thrown across your waist. You loved him like this, before the burdens and responsibilities of the suit dawned upon him, before he was a superhero and was simply Miggy.

You’d been tenderly running a hand through his curls, enjoying the view before you. Such a handsome man, such a kind soul. Sure, he was rough with everyone else, but with you? Away from the prying eyes and annoying questions? Away from the screens and all of the Spider Society duties?

He was plush. Soft, sweet, mellow, delicate.

You were whipped for this man, truly.

He stirred awake next to you, grumbling something in Spanish you couldn’t quite hear, and shuffled closer, lips quick to latch onto the column of your neck.

“Buenos dias hermosa…” He murmured against your skin, voice groggy and deep, earning the sweetest sigh from you. His grip on your waist tightened and you turned to him, smiling. He was such a vision.

“Morning, handsome.” You smiled, tugging on his curls to tilt his head towards you. He chuckled and kissed you tenderly, as if you were a figment of a dream he hadn’t yet abandoned and could disappear at any time.

You decided to remind him you weren’t going anywhere, pressing yourself against him to kiss him harder, obtaining the most delicious moan from your boyfriend. He pulled you closer by your waist, and with a quick movement, was on top of you, arms and hands caging you beneath his figure.

“Felling cheeky, aren’t we, mi vida?”

“I’m just kissing you Miguel, nothing cheeky about that.” You were quick to defend yourself, giving him a smug look.

He lowered himself, ghosting his lips over yours, almost as if on the brink of promising the entire world to you. Instead of doing that, he laid down, hair barely grazing your breasts as he placed soft kisses on your stomach.

You knew this look.

For a while now, the conversations about children and family had become more frequent. Miguel would catch you staring at baby clothes at the mall, or interacting with toddlers who looked and waved at you, and his heart melted. You had mentioned wanting a family before but were waiting on his signal. You knew Miguel had gone through something horrible – losing the family the way he did… You couldn’t imagine how that must’ve felt.

So, you waited.

And lately, he seemed to be on the same page.

Last week, when you two had gone to the mall, he’d found you staring at a baby blue stroller, and the expecting couple examining it. You sighed, hands slowly trailing up to your stomach. Someday you hoped that would be you.

And it was then Miguel realised that he would want nothing more than to see you pregnant with his child, round and soft and plush and his, for the whole world to see.

He could picture it, you sitting in your garden, sunbathing and applying lotions on your baby bump, and him, by your side, kissing your forehead and placing his hand on your stomach to feel his child kick.

You, waddling over to him when your cravings got the better of you, begging him to get you some pickles and strawberry jam, promising nothing in this world you make you happier or satisfy you more – even if the combination did seem disgusting. ~

You, sitting down on a big chair, breasts exposed as you gently nursed your child. Your baby would have its tiny, miniscule hand on your chest as he drank your milk, and Miguel would be watching from the doorway as you fed your son, before placing him to sleep.

He could see himself too.

Playing with his child in the park, teaching his son how to play football, helping his daughter score goals, lifting his child over his head once they won their first game, reading them bedtime stories and saying “Don’t tell your mom” whenever they got into trouble.

It was all so very vivid.

“Miguel?”

He could picture it all, reach before him and grasp it.

“Honey?”

How pretty you would look, all swollen with his child.

“Earth to Miguel?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he sighed, kissing your stomach.

“Mi vida, I think…” He looked up at you, fondness and love nearly spilling from his gorgeous brown eyes and held your hand in his. “I think… How would you feel about starting a family with me?”

There. It was out. He’d said it.

And although he knew what your answer would be, his heart still flipped when your eyes turned into crescents, and your lips curled into a gorgeous smile.

“A family? With me? Really?” You sounded so fucking happy; it made his heart swell. Was it possible to love someone as much as he loved you?

“Yeah,” Miguel replied, and pressed his hand against your stomach. He could almost feel it. Picture your baby bump, feel the soft kicking of your child against your stomach, a silent reminder that it was alive and breathing and waiting to meet you. “A family. You and I and our child… What do you say?”

You giggle – you giggle! And por Dios if it isn’t the most gorgeous sound he has ever had the blessing of hearing. If anyone asked what Miguel’s favourite type of music was, he’d probably say it was the sound of your laughter. Either that, or the pretty mewls you make for him when it’s late and he’s needy and you’re oh so pliant.

“I say it’s perfect!” Hands fly to his hair, and suddenly he’s being pulled towards you, lips hungrily crashing onto his. You kissed him with everything you had. All of the love you felt for him, the love you felt for the family that was yet to come, the joy, the laughter, you tried expressing it all through this kiss.

And he smiled because nothing would ever make him as happy as you do. Nothing would ever get him to smile as much as you do. Nothing would ever complete his life the way you did, and he was so, so grateful for that. He kissed you back, hands carefully placing themselves on your hips to steady you, yours gripping his jaw to bring him closer.

When you parted away from air, he looked at you through lidded eyes, a very familiar form of desire dancing in the brown of his irises. You smiled sheepishly and watched him shrug his shoulders.

“Well, I guess… Since we’re on the topic of baby making…” He whispered near your ear, relishing in the full body shiver it elicited from you.

“Now who’s the cheeky one?” You faced him, brow comically raised at him.

You were so cute; Miguel could just eat you up.

And there was no one to stop him.

“Shh, hermosa, don’t give me that.” Barely a whisper, and yet it made heat pool in your lower belly, and your face warm upr. “I’m just saying, we should start practicing.”

With one swift movement, he was between your legs and your laughter filled the room.

Everything seemed right in the world.

Not at all. Not anymore.

“No, I don’t.” You absentmindedly ran your finger through Gabriel’s hair, “Not anymore. Right now, I have you, and you’re all I need.”

“Do you want me to draw a picture for you? I can draw a giraffe because I know you like them, and then you’ll smile and be happy.” This got a chuckle out of you. Always trying to cheer you up, this one, no matter what.

“Mommy would love it if you drew her a picture of a giraffe. It’d make me super happy.”

“Okay then! I’m gonna do it tomorrow, and I’m gonna use the crayons Mrs. Camille gave me, so it will look extra special –“ Before your son could continue, you smiled and ran an index finger from his forehead to the tip of his nose, a small gesture between the two of you, one that had a bazillion meanings. But right now it meant something around “Time for bed”.

Gabriel looked up sheepishly, shrugging.

“Can you sing for me?”

You felt slightly self-conscious about singing to him, especially since Miguel was standing right in the other room, and you used to sing this song to him.

“Let him hear”, you thought. He meant nothing to you anymore. This song was no longer his.

The song came to you naturally as you stroked Gabriel’s curls and watched his cheeks huff and puff, his slow breathing reminding you that he was here, safe and sound.

“Querido Cada momento de mi vida Yo pienso en ti más cada día Mira mi soledad, mira mi soledad Que no me sienta nada bien, oh ven ya”

All it took was one single stanza and he was already fast asleep. You chuckled to yourself and kissed the top of his forehead. He looked so peaceful; you took a mental picture of this moment.

Because perhaps, it’d be the last one you’d have.

You took a deep breath and stood up, not wanting to delay what was to come any more. Miguel was standing in your living room. You couldn’t hide from him forever, and you weren’t going to.

Closing Gabriel’s door, you decided to once and for all, face the man who had broken your heart four years ago.

The fact that he spoke to you first didn’t surprise you – Miguel had always been straightforward. It was what he said that caught you off guard.

“Was that…?” He asked, clearly referring to the song.

Stay strong. Don’t waver. You have to be strong for your family.

“Yes. Yes, it was Querida.” Your voice sounded certain, confident. You weren’t feeling very confident, but the taste it left on your tongue was quite nice. It made you feel more and want more. A placebo, maybe, but right now, you took all the help you could get.

Miguel chuckled dryly, running a hand through his hair.

“Wow. I haven’t heard that song in… What? Four? Maybe five years?” How dare he act like everything was normal? Like you had simply forgotten to sing it for him, like instead of Querida, you’d started singing Para Siempre from Doreen Montalvo. He seemed too at ease.

“Yes, well. How sad.”

He stared at you, unsure of what to say. And was that regret on his face? Regret? Fear? You couldn’t tell. And it’s not like it mattered – Miguel had to leave. That much was final.

“And… And, well…” He stammered, eyes darting behind you, to the closed door of your son’s room. “He…”

“He’s yours.” You cut him off coldly. Why was he dancing around the subject? Miguel looked at you and swallowed harshly, scratching the back of his neck. You wouldn’t let him be meek and weak, you couldn’t. He had no right to. “What? Wasn’t that what you were going to ask?”

Miguel straightened himself, regaining some of the composure he’d lost earlier.

“I see.” He nodded and nudged his head towards your kitchen – that’s when you saw it.

“I did your dishes.”

Your brow furrows and your eyes widen all at once.

Your dishes?

“You were tucking, um, our, well, your, um… The kid. You were tucking him in, and I thought maybe I could be of help.” He looked so earnest it almost hurt you. Ever the gentleman, your Miggy. When you were together, no matter how late he got home, no matter how tired he was, Miguel still made time to help around the house. Cleaning, cooking, doing whatever it took to make sure you had no extra burdens.

But right now?

You didn’t care if he was Spiderman, you didn’t care if he was nearly 7 feet tall and wide and strong enough to snap you in two – you wanted to punch him in the face. Oh, so badly.

The anger took over you and you scoffed at him.

“Oh! You wanted to help, huh?” You leaned against the couch and raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “I see. Well, thank you for the help, Miguel. Unfortunately for you, I don’t need you to take care of household chores for me. Washing a few plates isn’t going to change anything.”

He winced at your words. Good.

“I just thought –“

“Well, you thought wrong.” You interrupt him once again. This conversation is not going to be about him. He’s not the victim, he’s not the vulnerable one. He doesn’t get to be vulnerable.

“[Y/N], we need to talk.”

“No, we don’t. You need to leave, and I need to get some sleep.”

“No, please, we need to talk. We have to.” He sounded desperate. Goodness, you loved it. His eyes were filled with something you’d never seen before. The bags under them reveal he must not have been getting a lot of sleep, and he kept pinching the bridge of his nose as if in exhaustion. You weren’t naïve – not anymore. You didn’t feel bad for him per se.

But seeing the man who once seemed to carry the weight of the world in his shoulders, who took care of an entire city and never even wavered, look so defeated… Well. It did pull at your heart strings a little bit. Maybe that’s why you nodded and gestured over to your couches, sitting down in one of them and waiting for Miguel to do the same.

Maybe that’s why you watched as Miguel sat on the couch facing the TV and waited for him to speak.

“[Y/N], I… Mierda… No sé por donde empezar…” He cursed under his breath, head hanging low.

“I don’t have all night, Miguel.”

Oh, how he missed hearing his name spill from your lips. But now, instead of filled with love and warmth, you spit the words almost like they are poisonous, like you can’t hold them on your tongue for more than two seconds without them corrupting you.

He supposed he did that to you.

“I suppose I should start by apologizing…” Miguel finally looked at you, brown eyes staring into yours. You’d have done anything for those eyes once upon a time. Not anymore. “[Y/N], that night, all those months ago… I can’t begin to explain how sorry I am…”

So he was here to apologize? Was that it? Did you even want to hear his apology? Were you going to forgive him?

“When I told you those things, when I told you to…” He averted his gaze for a few seconds, probably too ashamed to look at you as he remembered telling you to kill your child. And you felt good that he was ashamed. He deserved to be. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I was scared. Scared it would happen again, what happened to my sweet Gabriella… I lashed out on you, and I scared you. I’m so sorry.”

You nodded once, and upon hearing no reply from you, he continued.

“I… I really have no excuse other than that. Seeing Gabriella disappear right before my eyes, it… Mierda, it really scared me. So, when I read that test, when I saw you were pregnant, I was afraid it would happen again.”

Miguel found you staring at him, unimpressed, unmoved. Did his words mean nothing? Had he reached you?

“So?”

“So, what?”

“Is that why you came here? To apologize?” You questioned him, brow quirked.

“Well, yeah. You deserve an apology mi vi- [Y/N]. What I did to you was inexcusable. And yet, I hope that someday you manage to find it within your heart to forgive me. You know I’ve never lied to you, and I’m still telling you the truth when I say I’m so, so, so sorry. I’m ashamed of how I behaved, I was a monster, and you didn’t deserve that.”

For some unknown reason, his words made you weak, if only for a few seconds. You saw in front of you, your Miguel, your sweet, sweet Miggy who brought you breakfast in bed, who kissed your period cramps away, who carried you when you were too tired to walk, who treated you like you were God’s gift to green earth. You saw him scared and vulnerable and hurt, and all you wanted to do was take him in your arms and hold him tightly until all of the pain was nothing but a distant memory.

But you also couldn’t ignore the other Miguel, the Miguel who had jumped and punched a wall and yelled at you, demanding you to get rid of your baby, and forcing others to do it. No matter how much you had once loved him, Gabriel was your life now, and you couldn’t allow yourself to feel soft over someone who would do something so inhuman as threaten an unborn child.

“Thank you for the apology.” You told him. “Now, if you would excuse me, I have things to do. Now, please leave.”

He seemed confused by that. Leave?

“Wait – what?”

Standing up, you gently adjusted the couch you were sitting on, and shrugged at him.

“Yes. I have heard your apology, and now I want you to leave.”

“Well, what is your response?”

“To what?”

“To the apology.”

“I’m not accepting it.”

“What?”

What was he expecting? You to run into his arms with tears of joy, kissing him until he was dizzy and proclaiming his love for him? Was that it?

“You heard me,” You crossed your arms, “I’m not accepting your apology.”

“But – I thought – “

“You thought what, exactly?” Now your words were pure venom, meant to poison his skin and hurt his heart. You wanted him to feel a least a fraction of the hurt and pain he caused you, of the heartbreak he submitted you to. “That you could just come in here after I actively ran from you, after I tried to hide, and you would solve everything by washing my dishes and giving me a half-assed apology?”

“[Y/N], I told you what happened, I’m sorry, I was scared – “

“How do you think I felt, huh?” You felt the rage in the back of your throat. It hurt. It felt nice to let your anger out, to direct it at him, the source of your ache. “How do you think I felt when you threatened my baby? Were you also scared when you sent your Spider-People after my child and I?”

“What?” Miguel looked at you, dropping his hands to his sides.

“That’s right. I’m not stupid, Miguel, I know what you did. You asked for them to search for me, and to kill my son. You think all of that is washed away simply by apologising?”

“I was afraid you’d disappear on me too!” He pleaded, hands gesturing to his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what else to say, how else to show you how heartbroken I am…”

“Well then, perhaps you should’ve thought about all that before you decided to have a child with me, Miguel. You don’t get to do this – You don’t get to picture a future with me, with our family, you don’t get to tell me you’re ready only to then threaten us. You should’ve voiced those concerns instead of taking it out on me. You got me pregnant and didn’t even deal with the consequences of your actions!” You threw your hands in the air, desperately trying to make him see your side. Could he not understand the gravity of the situation?

“You should’ve told me. We would’ve worked something out, Miguel, I knew we would’ve.” Your vision becomes blurry – all these emotions aren’t really helping your “Don’t waver” plan, but at this point you just need to vent your frustrations. “But what you did? It felt like betrayal. We were trying for a baby, and when I finally got pregnant, you threatened us. I know what happened to you in the past, and I can’t imagine how it must’ve hurt, but it is no excuse for what you did to me.”

For a while, the both of you were silent. There was nothing else to say.

“What’s his name?” He asked silently, looking at Gabriel’s door.

You hesitated, but figured telling him what you had named your child probably didn’t hurt.

“Gabriel. His name is Gabriel.”

His eyes twinkled in acknowledgment. You had wanted to name your son anything that had nothing to do with his father, but you couldn’t. You considered that your last act of kindness towards Miguel.

“After my brother?”

“Who else?” You looked away.

“He… He’s beautiful. He looks…”

“Like you, I know.” You’d made your peace with it, sure, but sometimes it still stung that your child looked nothing like you, you who carried him and took care of him and fed him and rocked him to sleep. Instead, he was a near perfect copy of his father, opting to act like you, rather than look like you.

“How is he?” Miguel felt scared to ask. He wasn’t sure if you were going to tell him anything – and why should you?

“He’s… He’s the greatest kid ever. He’s smart and kind, and so considerate. He’s his own little man, even though he’s only four years old…” A smile spread across your lips, as you always did when talking about your son. He was your pride and joy, after all.

“Will I…” Miguel hesitated. You know what’s coming. “Will I get to meet him?”

“No. Not if I can help him.”

Miguel’s lips formed a tight line.

“[Y/N], he’s my son too –“

“No, he’s not. You might be related by blood, but that doesn’t make him your son, and it most certainly doesn’t make you his father. You lost that right when you threatened to kill him, and sent your goons to do it.” Your voice was getting louder, so you tried to lower it. The last thing you wanted was to wake Gabriel up.

“You can’t do this. I have a right to see him.” Miguel’s voice was also getting louder. Not only that, but he had also gotten up, towering over you. So much for weakness and desperation, this Miguel looked the same as the one you left four years ago.

“You don’t, that’s the thing. I don’t trust you around my son. I’ve spent the past four years trying to protect him from you, and I’m not going to stop now.” As if by instinct, you placed yourself right in front of him, blocking his passage to Gabriel’s room. Could he snap you in half and get to him by himself? Yeah. Were you going to let that stop you? No.

“What did you tell him? What lies did you tell our son?” Was it just you, or were his eyes turning red?

“My son. And I told him the truth, that his father wasn’t making me feel safe, so I had to run in order to protect him.”

Miguel visibly flinched at those words. He never wanted to make you feel unsafe, never.

“I understand I made a mistake, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be a part of his life.” His expression changed to something darker – you weren’t sure how long you had until he snapped. A mistake? How dare he downplay his actions like this?

“That is precisely what it means. I want you away from my son.”

“He needs a father. What if – what if he inherits my abilities, huh? What are you going to do then?”

That’s when you snapped.

“He needs ME!” Hot tears streamed down your face, and you did not try to stop them. “Do you understand? Me. I am his mother. I cared for him for the 9 months he was inside of me, scared shitless because I didn’t know what you might do if you found us. I took care of him for 4 whole years. I was the one who fed him, I was the one who changed his diapers, I was the one rocked him to sleep when he cried and I’d been awake for hours, I was the one who gave up everything and started from scratch because of him! And what did you do? You whispered pretty things in my ear and got me pregnant, and then got scared and proceeded to tell me to kill my child! That’s not something a father does!” The words kept spilling from your lips and there was no way to stop them. You could finally speak freely, get him to understand the pain he put you through.

“If my son happens to inherit your abilities, then I will take care of it. Just like I’ve been doing all these years, I will take care of it. You’ve done nothing for us, and we don’t need you. I don’t need you Miguel, I don’t love you anymore. My priorities in life have changed, and now they lie in the safety and well-being of my son. So, for once in your life, stop being so fucking stubborn and LEAVE!”

“Mama?”

Your heart fell as soon as you heard Gabriel’s scared voice.

Shit.

You turned to him, only to be meet with a teary-eyed child, holding onto his teddy bear way too tightly.

“Honey, I… I’m sorry… Did I wake you up?” Your voice was automatically gentler, lower, something above a whisper, something reserved for him and him alone. Right now, you didn’t care that Miguel was right there, angry, and tall, all you cared about was your son, who looked so, so scared it nearly killed you.

“I heard you yelling…” He murmured, running towards you and hiding his face on the crook of your neck. His tears fell on your skin and you allowed yourself to cry with him, clutching him close to you, afraid he’d disappear right before your eyes because of your actions.

“I’m so sorry…” You mumbled into his hair, hoping all the love and sincerity you felt right now could be translated into words. “Honey, I’m so sorry, mommy got angry and started yelling… I promise it won’t happen again… I’m so, so sorry…”

You felt Gabriel nod, and pressed your lips to his head, a thousand promises laced in one simple kiss.

Standing up and turning to Miguel, you gave him a serious look, despite your puffy face and red eyes.

“You should leave. For good.”

And for all his bravado, Miguel couldn’t help but melt when he looked at your son, at his round, bright eyes, and small pout. He might look like his father, but right now, he was all you. It killed him. He drove you to yell, he drove you to be mad and wake him up. Mierda. He’d fucked up again.

Miguel took his son in one last time, telling himself he’d keep an eye on him from afar, and nodded before walking away and leaving you alone in your living room.

You locked the door behind him, heart tightening.

You’d made the right choice.

“Would you mind sleeping with mommy tonight? I think I need my brave little boy to scare away the monsters…” You whispered.

This earned a chuckle out of Gabriel, who nodded and placed a hand on his forehead in a salute, no doubt imitating the cartoons he watched.

“I’m going to protect you!”

You smiled and took him to your bedroom once more, not even bothering to change. Your sweatpants were comfortable anyways.

Holding Gabriel close to you, you sighed when you heard him speak.

“That man said he was my father…”

You pressed your lips. However were you going to work this one out?

“Was he the one you wanted to protect me from?”

You let your hands run through his hair.

“Yeah, my love. He was.”

“How did he find us?”

That was a good question. With all of the yelling and anger, you’d forgotten to ask. But after all, this was Miguel you were talking about. He was a genius and would surely always find a way to you, sooner or later.

“I’m not sure. But he won’t hurt us. I promise.” You looked at him, offering him your best reassuring smile. Truth was, you weren’t sure he would follow you once again. But what you were sure of, was that you would always do your best to protect him and keep him safe.

Gabriel looked into your eyes and slowly wiped away what was left of your tears.

“It’s okay to be scared.”

No matter how used you were to it, it would always catch you by surprised how perceptive and intelligent your son was. You smiled slowly grabbing his hand and kissing it.

“I know.”

“Are you scared?” He asked again, his eyes droopy and his lips parting to let out a big yawn.

“I was a few minutes ago. But I’m gonna tell you a secret. That alright?” You moved your hand to cup his cheek.

“Mhm…” Gabriel mumbled, sounding like he was dozing off already.

“Mommy is never scared when you’re by her side.” It was barely a whisper, and you didn’t even know if he had heard it. Still, you added, “I’ll always be strong for you.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you watched his gentle breathing.

And then, words.

“I love you, mama.”

They were barely audible, but nevertheless, they were there.

A few tears managed to escape – tears of joy, of love.

You would always do your best to protect him. You’d always be there to hold his hand and watch him grow, watch him become his own person, cheering him on as he went.

No matter what came your way, no matter what happened, you’d always be there by his side. For the good things, for the bad things, for the so-so things. To hold him tightly when he felt clingier than usual, to pin his drawings on the fridge, to hear him babble about whatever new topic he’d discovered in school, even if you were tired beyond reason and all you wanted was for him to go to sleep so you could get some rest.

You’d be there to tie his shoes until he could do it by himself, and to clean his face whenever he got too excited with his lunch. You’d be there to explain to him what a “memamporphosis” was, and to listen to him explain to you why Spiderman was the greatest of heroes.

You’d be there when he cried, and when he laughed.

And be there when he wasn’t yours anymore.

Four years ago, you had chosen him, and you would always choose him, for as long as you breathed.

“I love you too, my sweet boy.”

Spanish Translations

Mi cielo - My sky Mierda - Shit My vida - My life Te amo con todo mi ser - I love you with all of my being Eres la luz de mi vida - You're the light of my life Estás embarazada? - You're pregnant? Perdóname - Forgive me Buenos dias hermosa - Good morning beautiful Querida / Querido - Dear (While Querida is meant for a female partner, Querido is meant for a male partner, both are a term of endearement and have the same meaning) No sé por donde empezar - I don't know where to start

If you'd like to check out the song's translation, you can check this page out!

I hope you enjoyed this! Have an amazing day ahead, please keep yourself hydrated and safe <3

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara scenarios #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel spiderman #across the spiderver fanfiction #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n

557 notes · View notes

cain-speaks · 9 months

Text

🍭 𝙎𝙒𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝙏𝙊𝙊𝙏𝙃 🍭 || Macaque x Reader Oneshot

» sweet tooth (cavetown) « 0:45 ─〇───── 4:07

╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝❀╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗ AUTHOR'S NOTE ╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗❀╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝ ➤ This is a oneshot. ➤ This is romantic. ➤ Reader uses she/her and is a cat demon, so she has cat-like features/behaviors! ➤ Described the clothes but tried to keep it simple/vague so ppl could add more details if they'd like! ➤ BRO THIS TOOK SO LONG I'M SORRY. I kinda lost the plot a few times I think,, and I got super into the shadow story,, hope this is good!! Also sorry if I switched tenses at some point, it happens rip. Also also if the kiss scene is bad I'm so sorry, I'm awkward asf LMAO. ➤ TRIGGER WARNINGS include profanity, a little bit of angst, referenced toxicity, and referenced murder. ➤ Word count: 3,494

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

❝ A sweet tooth for you, I'm wide awake .❞

Your tail vibrates excitedly as the timer goes off, alerting you that the mango pudding is done chilling. Grinning widely, you almost run to your fridge, throwing open the door and crouching to pull the cool dessert out. You take a deep whiff as you wander back to the counter, shutting the fridge door with a bump of your hip. It smells heavily, and an experimental shake of the pan leads you to believe the sweet treat has successfully set.

You set down the mango pudding and turn to the dishes, rinsing them in the sink and leaving them in the basin to be thoroughly cleaned later. As you scratch a particularly stubborn splash of dried pudding from the whisk, you look over at your oven, squinting to read the numbers displayed.

5:47.

"Oh, cow-milk," you hiss under your breath, finishing up with the whisk and nearly tossing it into the basin.

I'm going to be late! you fret as you pull off your apron, throwing it upon the counter as you rush to your bedroom to pull on your outfit: a simple white turtleneck under a soft long-sleeve and high-waisted plaid pants, complemented with long socks and short, buckled heels. Once you finish with your outfit and additional accessories, you grab a basket on your way out of your room and quickly fill it with cutlery, cubed mangoes, sugar, and of course, the pudding.

You pause for a second, ears flicking about as you try to make sure you haven't forgotten anything. Your time is cut short as another alarm sings on your phone, titled Get The Fudge to Mac's!

You squeak, shoving your phone into your pocket and spinning on your heel as you race out of your home, narrowly keeping the basket from slapping against your side.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You're fairly certain the only reason Macaque doesn't snap at you slamming the dojo doors is because he heard you coming.

He's curled up on his couch, a hefty book in his lap—probably about something medicinal or floral if you had to guess. Your eyes flicker to his face, scowling as you see his signature smirk, golden-brown eyes scanning your hunched-over figure in amusement.

"Look what the cat dragged in," purrs the demon.

"You—hah—think you're soooo funny," you grit out, shuffling to the couch with a glare.

"When have I ever been wrong?" Macaque asks.

The monkey slaps his tail across your face before you can recite the "a" portion of your alphabetized list.

"How come you're so late today?" he teases. "Normally you're here before I am."

You roll your eyes and give a half-hearted bite to the demon's tail, barely grazing the fur, but he pulls it away with a narrowed gaze anyway. You give him a dramatically sweet face, fluttering your lashes as you set your basket on the table.

You make a lazy gesture at it. "I made something for us."

"Oh?" Macaque asks, cocking an eyebrow. "How romantic, starlight."

For a split second, you consider letting your embarrassment at the implication get to you. But then you decide if Macaque wants to be a little evil, you may as well join him.

"Only the best for you, moonflower," you coo back, revelling in the way the black-furred monkey's face heats up around his spiked mask. You immediately laugh at his blush, far more elated at your ability to fluster the stoic demon than you think is normal, adoring the way his ears wiggle as though trying to hide his face.

"Laugh it up, kitty," he grumbles, reaching out for the basket.

You lunge forward and smack his hand before his claw tips so much as brush the handles. "Nu-uh! That's for after dinner, loser."

Macaque frowns and squints at you, shaking his hand and blowing on it in classic dramatic theater kid fashion. "What are you, five?"

"Out of five~!" You sing-song, scooping up the basket as you jump to your feet. "Now get cooking, Macaroni."

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

When Macaque announces the food's almost done, you decide to raid his wardrobe for pajamas.

You zoom up the stairs before he can say a word, but to your surprise, he doesn't make so much as a sigh as your thundering footsteps fade into his room.

It's weird. Normally Macaque always whines about you snagging his clothes, complaining about the pastry stains or endless amounts of cat hair that ends up on them—which is a small price to pay when you're constantly making him yummy treats! But tonight he's oddly quiet.

Come to think of it... he's been acting off for a while.

You noticed it last month. Your time spent with the monkey had turned more physical—training, teaching you how to make certain foods, dancing, cuddling. And amongst his standard sarcasm and snark, he was complimenting you a lot more, too. You'd even started finding little trinkets around your house! So unless some other purple-coded weirdo was breaking into your house to leave you jewelry and pretty flowers, it had to be Macaque.

But on the other hand, Macaque seemed to be... distancing himself. A canceled plan here and there, an excuse to leave the room every now and then, a strange new sense of secrecy within the demon, as though he was guarding something from you. As if he was afraid of you coming too close all over again.

It was so confusing. If you allowed yourself to consider that the demon had fallen for you of all people, what were you supposed to make of his behavior? That he hated the idea of loving you so much that he was deciding between making a game of it or completely pushing you away?

The thought strikes you right in the chest, your bottom lip falling victim to your sharp teeth.

Just recently you'd come to terms with just how much you really like the monkey—how much you love the sound of his voice and the way he drags you into trouble and his devotedness to you as a friend. It'd been an earth-shattering realization, really, one that left you tossing and turning in bed and damn near ripping your fur out.

How could you be blamed? Macaque was hardened like stone in the aftermath of his past, resulting in a closed-off and apathetic creature, a lone wolf in spite of his nature. It'd taken so, so much time and patience to get to where you two were now, laughing and poking fun at each other in his dojo, his safespace.

The last thing you want is to lose everything because your silly heart loves tragedies.

"Starlight!" Macaque's sharp call comes from downstairs, making you jump. "The hell are you doing? I said dinner's done!"

"Ack—I'm coming, just a minute!"

You quickly throw on a loose shirt and shorts, struggling a bit with the hole for your tail before finally settling the limb and bounding out of the room. Immediately, an aroma of deliciousness hits your nose. You almost stumble down the stairs due to the distraction, righting yourself with an embarrassed flush (boy, are you glad Macaque didn't see that) and carefully making your way into the kitchen.

Your eyes widen at what you see. A large bowl of chǎofàn sits at the table, neighbored by a plate of tángcù lǐjǐ and another of xiǎolóngbāo. The scent is divine, and you would call the meal a gift from Buddha if it weren't for the smirking demon leaning against the counter.

"Like what you see?" he asks cockily, tail sweeping against the ground in a lazy sway.

"No way you just made all of this!" you exclaim, grinning.

"Maybe I'm just that good," replies the black-furred monkey with a wink, fetching two plates and some silverware out of various cupboards and drawers.

"Not that good," you snort, fetching your basket from the fridge. "Come on, what's the trick this time, moonflower?"

The demon falls strangely silent at your question. You raise an eyebrow at his back, waiting for a response. Finally, in an uncharacteristically small voice, Macaque says, "I've been preparing."

There's more to it. There's definitely more to it, but you won't push.

You set the basket down on the floor and take the plate held out to you, happily filling it up before moving to your seat. Macaque joins you on the opposite side, silent save for the short scraping sound of silverware against glass. The uncomfortable silence threatens to spoil your appetite, and you spend a few quiet minutes praying that the demon across from you will say something.

"Is it good?"

Thank Buddha, you think, immediately put at ease to hear his voice.

"Duh," you say, swallowing another forkful of delicious food. "Your cooking is some of the best I've ever had."

"Oh really?" Macaque leans forward on his elbows, hands laced under his chin, and you feel your face warm ever-so-slightly. "Then where do I rank, starlight?"

"Top ten at least," you tease, reaching for more chǎofàn. Macaque unlaces a hand to pick up the bowl and pass it to you.

"At least," he chuckles. "Well, eat up. I have a play to put on."

"A play?" You repeat, cheeks round with rice.

Macaque nods. "Yes." Quickly, he adds, "for you."

You very nearly make a quip about the romance of dinner and a show, but seeing his tail tense and thud against the floor makes you reconsider.

Instead, you smile. "I'll be there."

The monkey snorts. "Better be. If you stand me up for rice and chicken, I'll never make it again."

You fake an angry grumble. "Don't you have to go prepare, smart guy?"

He blinks. Once. Twice.

"Oh," he says, simply at first. Then his eyes widen. "Oh, yes! I have to—there are things I have to—I'm going now." Macaque cuts his rambling short and just barely avoids sprinting out of the kitchen like his tail is on fire.

"Don't—" you cringe at the sound of something falling, followed by a quiet yelp. "—hurt yourself on the way out..."

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You sit amongst soft blankets and pillows, tails curled around your knees as you wait for the play to start. The light of Macaque's lantern bathes the dojo in a violet hue, shadows dancing with the sway of the lantern as Macaque gets into position. The monkey's innate shadow powers and connection to the lantern make it easy to manipulate it and the dark for his purposes, so part of you is confused that Macaque settles himself so far away from you. You reason that maybe the demon's just feeling extra dramatic for this story.

Or maybe this is it, you think.

Even if you don't know what that means.

"Welcome viewer, to a shadow play the likes of which have never been seen."

You smile at the signature opening line, a soft purr rumbling in your throat as you listen closely, ears perked in Macaque's direction.

"Here we follow another tale about the tragic Warrior." Macaque's voice reverberates around you, and you watch as a simplified silhouette of hi—ahem, "the warrior" manifests from the shadows. "Though this story is unlike the others—for instead of our Warrior bearing yet another arduous chapter of life, perhaps he has found his happy end.

"Everyone knows the tale of how the Sun came to betray the Moon. But what very few have to come to learn is that it was the moon that brought on such a tragedy. You see, many centuries ago, the Moon could only see their dark side—blemished, indecipherable, and lacking in light. So often the moon thought of their dark side and wept, believing that if it was all they saw, it was all anyone could see. And then the Moon realized something. They were the Sun's only companion, their only friend, so surely, surely, the Sun would give their light to them.

"And at first, the Sun did everything they could to show the Moon just how bright they could be. The Sun taught the Moon everything they knew, and the Moon took that knowledge and taught it to others, becoming a beloved warrior. And when the Moon became the Warrior, they changed the Sun into a Hero—a well-shaped, perfect vessel of holiness and goodness.

"The Sun allowed for this because they loved the Warrior, so they locked themselves within the Hero. And while the Warrior loved the Hero very much, they were so blinded by the love of their light that they didn't see what they were doing to their beloved Sun.

"Years passed and the Warrior had taken almost every bit of sunlight. Only their heart and a small sliver remained, which the Sun branded on to the Hero's golden cudgel and hid beneath stone so the Warrior could not find it. This angered the Warrior, who still could not see what they'd done to the Sun, for they were so hidden within the Hero. He said, "my hero! Why do you hide your light from me? Is it not mine, too? Have I not helped you shine?"

"The Hero replied, "I hide nothing from you, my Warrior, certainly not our light. I simply have no more to give you."

"The Warrior was displeased, and this displeasure, coupled with the dimming Sun, poisoned their light until nothing remained but a thin halo around the two of them.

"This terrified the Warrior—to see that they were so close to becoming the Moon again, so close to being consumed by their dark side, that they demanded the Hero give them their heart. Only this time, the Hero refused.

""You are not a hero," spat the Warrior. "And you are no longer a warrior," whispered the Hero. The Warrior was so angry, so enraged, that they attempted to swallow the Sun itself. They peeled away the Hero's stone body to reveal the blazing heart beneath, fully intent to rob them of every last bit of light they had, even if it meant they'd never shine again.

"The Sun broke free of the Hero's perfect body, and, using the light on the golden cudgel, banished the Warrior to a place of no light. No stars. No song. Only darkness.

"A place where the Warrior and the Moon would blend in perfectly."

While you've never heard the story portrayed this way, you find it heartbreakingly easy to tell he's talking about his death and descent into Diyu. You fiddle with your hands, pressing on the paw pads as you stare, watching the Warrior turn into wisps as a glowing mass of shadows (the Sun?) forms into a tendril and strikes them.

It's almost too much to watch, your brain caught up in what preceded Macaque's death. Is this why he's been so nervous? It would make sense—the version of the tale makes him vulnerable to say the least, and it's oozing with painful, regretful honesty. Macaque may not be a liar, but the truth has never been easy for him.

The scene changes, shifting in a quick montage.

"For centuries, the Warrior rotted in their anger and sorrow. So angry were they that they allowed themselves to be hung from strings like a simple puppet, used as a weapon to harm undeserving victims."

Flashes of burned and otherwise destroyed villages wrap around the dojo, all with a chained Macaque hovering above, eyes burning. The last image you recognize as the Monkie Kid and his group. A shadowy tendril wraps around the kid's limbs, attached to him in a similar way to Macaque's chains. Your stomach twists.

"Even when the Warrior finally forgoed their wrath and reconciled with the Sun, they still could not find it in them to shine. They'd ruined the Moon many years ago, and now the Warrior was ruined, too.

"...or so they thought. One day, the Warrior came across a maiden. She was gentle and wild, comforting and unapologetic, unwavering and bold. She was a river, a storm, a mountain who stood unblinking before the weight of the Warrior's darkness.

"The Warrior thought they were doomed to break her, as they so often did to strong things. But then the Maiden produced a mooncake from her robes, split it in half, and said, "Would you share this treat with me, O' weary Warrior?""

A feminine silhouette appears before the Warrior, dressed in a flowing hanfu and flowers. Most interestingly, the Maiden has tufted ears and a long, fluffy tail just like—

Your face erupts in a shocked blush as understanding dawns on you. The first time you met Macaque, you'd been out selling mooncakes. It'd been a good day, and by the end you had a single treat left, which you fully intended to scarf down while watching the sun set. But then you'd seen Macaque, leaning against a bridge and watching the reflection of the sun in the river, and he just looked so sad, you thought a mooncake would add a little brightness to his face.

A pity cake it might have been, but you think it was one of the best pity cakes you've ever had.

"The Warrior took the Maiden's gift. Together, the two ate at their cakes until they were naught but crumbs and the sun had long set. Before they parted, the Maiden smiled at the Warrior.

"And the Warrior glowed.

"The Warrior glowed so bright that moonlight shown through the cracks in their skin, that stars came down to twinkle in their fur and they could hear the sweetest dreams whispering in their ears, and all they said was "Mooncake Maiden" over and over again, for the Warrior had finally found someone to glow for, not because of."

You almost bust out laughing, a mix of adoration, shock, and amusement bubbling in your chest. "Mooncake Maiden", huh? Maybe you should start a business.

"For weeks, the Warrior and the Maiden continued to meet. The Warrior continued to glow, feeling more and more like the great warrior they once were. They even began to think of themselves as the moon again, not as an imperfect surface, but as a new vast and complicated world, one they wanted to explore by the side of the Maiden. All they had to do was ask her."

The shadows merge into a single ball, gliding towards you and settling before you. The ball reforms, revealing Macaque kneeling in front of you, your hands held gently in his. But what really catches your eye is his glamor—or lack thereof. His six ears, the reason for his namesake, unfurl from his head like flower petals, glowing shades of blue, pink, and purple that illuminate both of your faces. His fangs elongate past his bottom lip and a white halo of fur surrounds his face, shimmering in the gentle light.

His eye, blind though it may be, is milky and spotted like the bright side of the moon and you can't help but think it's the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen.

"And now to discover how this story ends," he says softly.

"Macaque—" you begin, only to fall silent when he squeezes your hands.

"I know I'm not a hero," Macaque says. "I think I might always be a little evil—a trickster, a bit of a thief, a bully every now and then; a shadow of something good. But you make me feel... real. Like I can be something more, something people can love and adore without getting hurt, and I haven't felt that in a long, long time, starlight."

You blink, feeling something wet tease the corner of your eyes. Your heart thumps in your chest, tail unfurling from your knees and reaching out. Macaque meets it halfway and they curl around each other like ribbons.

"I love you," whispers the Six-Eared Macaque. Louder, he says it again, and you shiver when he says your name. "I love you, and if you'll have me, I'll be yours for eternity."

Your mouth feels dry, your body nearly numb with—what, shock? Excitement? Happiness? Exhaustion because you're feeling all the things? Probably.

But still, your heart swells at the confession and your hands slip from his to cradle his face and you say, "I love you too, Macaque."

Macaque grins, eyes shining wetly. His hands go to your cheeks, thumbs brushing under your eyes. His ears flap against your hands for a second, and then he whispers, "can I kiss you?"

Your heart nearly explodes. But you give nothing away as you utter a soft, "yes."

You're not quite sure what to expect when his lips meet yours. Fireworks, or maybe like a puzzle piece is shifting into place. You think you can safely say you feel neither, but you do feel both of your growing smiles, until you're pulling away to laugh and Macaque follows suit.

When your giggles die down, you pet the demon's ears again. "You wanna have dessert now?"

The black-furred monkey huffs, leaning into your touch. "In a minute," he murmurs, and then he's bringing you back to his lips.

❝ I like you—say it back .❞

#cain speaks #[ 🧨 ]#cain writes #[ 🩸 ]#lmk liu er mihou #lmk six eared macaque #six eared macaque x reader #lmk macaque #macaque x reader #lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid x reader #lego monkie kid x y/n #monkie kid #monkie kid x reader #lmk #lmk x reader #lmk x y/n

176 notes · View notes

ljnsdump · 10 months

Text

If It's Meant To Be, It Will Be (Jaehyun x F!reader)

Johnny x F!reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

When a heart knows, it knows. There's no explaining it. You can only trust it.

Genre: M/F, exes to lovers, angst, fluff, slight smut, suggestive, oneshot

Warnings: light smut, secret/hidden pregnancy, cursing

Word count: 6,187

My third published story! I am so excited for this. This is one of the stories that has always been in my vault for the longest time just like the other three. I hope you enjoy reading it! I apologized for not posting as much, college is too much. But I hope I can post a lot now since it's already the summer break. Also, I'm not the best when it comes to writing smut, please understand that I'm still learning.

Read at your own risk.

------

Before going home, Y/N goes to the local grocery store to get milk for the babies. They're growing so fast and it doesn't take a long time to run out of their milk. She then grabs a bag of candies and cookies as well.

Her 5-year old twins sat on the stairs outside their house waiting for her with their nanny. When they see her car pull up in front of the gates, the two run and the nanny immediately comes after them.

"Mommy!" They yell and jump in excitement. "We miss you so much!"

Y/N pouts as her heart warms at the sight. She immediately gets out of the car and gets in the property. She lowers herself down to level with her kids. "My babies, I love you both so much. I miss you both a lot too." The two hold her hand as they go in. "Helen, can you please grab the things I bought, it's in the backseat of the car."

"Okay." Helen nods.

"Now what have my favourite babies been doing all day?"

"Mommy, I was drawing with nanny! We drew flowers, and coloured them and put the sun and clouds!" Her little girl, Janelle says. "Julien was playing with cars! He hit nanny on her leg as well."

"Julien, did you say sorry to nanny?" Y/N asks with a stern face and her son nods.

"Yes, I hugged nanny because I didn't mean to do it."

She smiles and hugs both. "Very good! I will give you chocolates for being a good girl and a good boy. But let mommy change her clothes first." The two nod and go to play. Helen, who was following them with the groceries, puts them away on the counter. "Helen, just watch them for a few minutes. I'll just change and then once I'm out you can take your break as well."

Helen nods.

Y/N has left the eye of the public when she was forced to break up with her baby daddy. He didn't know she was pregnant. Heck, she didn't even know she was pregnant when his parents casted her away. So she decided to live in a small town away from him and his family. She's been suffering all these years so she's fighting everyone for her kids. She even separated from her parents because of the fear that they might take the kids away because she was earning minimum wage before.

She's working in a small company right now that develops environmentally friendly alternatives for non-biodegradable packaging. She started out as a mere researcher and now she's one of the executives. This year they are planning to expand their business and endorse it to bigger companies for development. And they are doing their first pitch after her weekend off.

They are going on a business trip for two days. That's why she packed the bags for her kids as well because she's definitely bringing them. She has to.

"Helen, remember when I told you about my business trip? We're gonna be leaving on Sunday afternoon. So please make sure you have your things ready before then, okay?" She instructs the nanny. "I'll give you double pay for Sunday since that's supposed to be your day off."

"Yes, I'll be ready by then. I'll come in early as well so I can help you prepare."

Night time came, Julien and Janelle were sleeping peacefully on their own beds. She observes the two as she overthinks about what can happen if she brings them to the city. Well, it's a big city so it's not even sure if they would get a peak of the shadows of the people she's avoiding.

As they are travelling, Y/N plays songs and they sing along to it. Y/N is musically inclined and she wants the kids to adapt that from her. She wants them to have music as part of their relaxation, and bonding time.

They go straight to their hotel which the company already had reserved for Y/N and she just got an extra room for Helen.

She and her colleagues had a quick meeting during dinner just to run through their presentation for tomorrow morning.

They are 5 in total, the president of the company, Y/N, and three researchers who lead the development of their product.

Later that night, she took the kids for a stroll on the streets. They were so amazed by the flashing lights, the huge buildings and the cars passing by. She got them everything they wanted because she just wanted them to have the best time of their life.

Morning comes, Y/N immediately prepares herself. She puts on her formal black trousers and blazer over her white shirt. Simple yet it made her look very elegant and sophisticated. She styles her hair, puts on light makeup before slipping on her stilettos. Grabbing her bags and keys, she doesn't forget to kiss the two who're sleeping soundly.

"Cheer on mum." She whispers at them.

She gets there on time, her team just arrived as well. They are led to the conference room, where it is only them in their first and immediately starts preparing for their presentation. Y/N observes the seating arrangement, and plans on tactics and ways to make it visually pleasing to the audience.

"I'm kind of nervous." One of the researchers, Taeil says as he shakes his hands vigorously.

Y/N just smiles. "That's actually very normal. This is a big crowd and they're the real deal. But I'm confident about our product, so I trust you three to present it with confidence as well."

The executives started coming in, filling in the empty seats. "5 minutes." The moderator of the conference tells them.

Y/N immediately runs out to grab a drink of water on the nearest station. But her path was blocked with someone who had a smug look on his face.

"Found you." Jae says and her eyes widens.

"W-what are you doing here?"

He shrugs. "I'm just one of the board members."

"What?!"

"Don't worry, I'll make them say yes to your pitch." He winks and goes in.

It's like her spirit just left her body. Why is he here? He's a board member? How? He owns his own company so why is he still going around looking for more to acquire?!

She snaps back to reality when one of her teammates calls her. "Miss Y/N! 3 minutes!"

Instead of getting water, she immediately texts Helen out of fear.

To: Helen

Don't ever let anyone in your rooms, watch the kids intently please and don't let them out.

Y/N clears her throat as the introduction begins. Even if she is panicking after seeing his ex lover, she stands there with all the elegance she can give.

"We in Lively Co. had always been researching for the best alternatives for our common packaging in the market. We believe that we developed the best product for food storage considering the materials used, money it costs, and the benefit it gives to the environment." She starts and then it goes on before she introduces their research team to discuss product specific details.

Jae looks at her proudly. He's not even hiding the smile on his face that Y/N can't seem to avoid. He's always had the most gorgeous face and now all his features are more developed, he's more matured. Jawline sharper, eyebrows bushier, undercut hair, ear piercings. God, he looks so good.

The CEO of the company seated in the center smiles and claps after the presentation. "Good. It's very good. As you may know, we don't invite companies to pitch unless we see real potential on their products. We actually have decided about this after we took a look at the research papers, samples and all documents you submitted about this product. We just wanted to see your perception and how you'll present it to us because we also look out for people we work with. And it's a good thing we did this today, you guys are so good and I look forward to working with your company." He shakes hands with the president of the mere Lively Co, while the four behind hugs each other, crying in happiness.

Y/N smiles when Taeil turns to her. "I told you."

After the meeting, they are also invited to lunch and then are given a tour around the company. Fortunately, Jae is no longer with them during the tour.

When she goes back to the hotel after a long day, she sees Jae in the lobby, legs on top of the other, watching her walk in and her heart starts pounding again. He's in the same building as her kids.

"You guys go ahead, I just have to drop by the cafe." She lies to her teammates and watches them take the elevator.

He then walks to her. "Hi."

She grabs his wrist and pulls him out of the hotel. "What are you doing here?!"

"Just wanted to congratulate you. You did so well there, baby." Smiling slightly but she shakes her head.

"You shouldn't be here!"

"Why?"

"I don't know, maybe I don't wanna see you!"

He stops and looks at her face. She can't even lie. "Five years and you still haven't worked on your lying skills."

"I'm not lying, Jae."

"Tell me why you left without saying anything. Why when I went to your apartment, it was already empty and we were just cuddling there the night before that. I should have known that you hugged me the entire night, crying for no reason at all was because you were about to leave me."

"Your parents paid me to leave you." She admits. "Now please go away because I don't have the money to refund them."

Jae's eyes burn in anger all of a sudden. "And you exchanged me for money?"

"I had no choice, you know it's still gonna end regardless of what the reason maybe because it all boils down to me not being the best pair for you."

"Who are they to say that you're not the best for me?!"

"They're your parents."

"It doesn't matter! They don't matter! You know I love you so much, I was so ready to be with you!"

"It's all in the past now. Just go."

Their third and final day, they visit one of the plants of the company then go back to the building to have a small gathering to bid goodbyes. Jae was not able to attend the previous schedules they had the past few days but he definitely is not missing the get together.

As she's going to the conference room, her phone buzzes on her hand so takes a look at it.

From: Helen

Y/N, Julien is having a hard time breathing. He's having an asthma attack.

She immediately replies.

To: Helen

Use the inhaler.

From: Helen

I think it's empty.

Y/N bit her lip, looking so worried and her teammates turned to her.

"What's going on?" One asks.

"I-I need to go." She replies, in a hurry. "My son needs to be taken to the hospital."

Their eyes widen. "You have a son?!"

But before she could answer, she already ran off while dialling 911 on her phone.

Later on, Jae arrives and he notices that Y/N was not there. He goes to ask their president. "Is Y/N not with you guys?"

"She left. She said she has to take her son to the hospital." She replies.

Jae's eyebrows furrow. "Her son?" Then immediately goes out, meeting his assistant outside. "Let's go to the hospital nearest to the Diamond Hotel."

Y/N holds and plays with her son's hand as Julien is getting nebulized. He's scared of the sound it makes, that's why she's holding him.

"Was he always asthmatic?" The doctor asks.

She nods. "Yeah, he got it from his dad. He's asthmatic too and severely allergic to seafood."

Jae hears that and he immediately knows. "Y/N." He calls and she stands up in surprise, trying to cover her son.

"Why are you here?!"

"He's mine, isn't he?"

The doctor quietly calls the nurse over. "You guys can talk outside, we'll take care of Julien."

Jae immediately pulls her out of the emergency room. But before they can talk, Janelle runs to them and hugs her mom's legs. "Mommy! Where's Juls? Is he okay mom?"

The fright on her face is something that you can never compare with anything. Her heart is raging and she knows she's done for.

"Helen, can you take a walk with Janelle? I-I just need to speak to Mr. Jung."

Helen immediately takes Janelle away from them but Jae's eyes never leave the little girl. He can't believe that they have kids together, twins on top of that! The two look so much alike and they got some of their features from him like his bushy eyebrows, and eyes.

"They're my kids, aren't they?" She's on the verge of crying but Jae's eyes remain consistent. This is the only way to bring her back. After all those years he looked for her, wanting her to come back. "Y/N." He calls her again.

She frowns then whines. "They're mine."

He just wants to caress her face, and wipe her tears but didn't. If he shows her any remorse, she'll take advantage of it and talk him into keeping the kids to herself. "You hid them from me."

"Your family hates me, Jae! What was I supposed to do? I loved you so much but they kept pushing me! They kept threatening me!" She cries. "I left the world for Julien and Janelle, Jae. You will never take them away from me. I've sacrificed myself for them and you can't just come back to my life and take them like I don't matter."

"You are my first priority, Y/N." He replies. "I'm taking you and our kids back. My family will never have a say about it. And I will fight all of them who fight you."

She shakes her head. "You can't. You don't know what happens when you turn around, Jae."

"I will."

"No."

"I really don't want to involve my lawyers in this, Y/N." He says warningly.

She always loses. He always gets the better of her. "You can visit the kids then. But they stay with me."

"Love, you live far from this city I believe. Plus you're going back to your home today, aren't you?"

"I can request a leave. We can stay here until the weekend."

He smiles slightly and pinches her cheeks. "Thanks." That's definitely enough time for him to bring her back. "They're twins! How on earth did we happen to make two at once." Y/N couldn't help but cough a laugh at what he said. The happiness he feels knowing he has children with her is beyond the heavens. He can't help but pull her into a hug. "I can't wait to spoil them with everything they want in this world." Resting his chin on top of her head as he imagines all the fun activities that he has in mind for their kids.

She pulls away, still feeling skeptical about all this because she knows that Jae will do everything to get his children. She just knows.

"Miss Y/L/N,, your son is all good now. He was such a good boy the entire time." The doctor says. "Now, I'll go ahead and prepare the prescription for his inhaler, and Nurse Wendy will take care of the papers."

Nurse Wendy smiles at them and says, "Follow me."

They go to their son first who is sitting cutely and behaving on one of the beds as his feet dangle. "Mommy! I'm okay now! I behaved with the doctors." He grins which earned him a hug and kiss from his mom.

"My baby is all grown up now, mommy is so proud."

"And daddy."

Y/N blushes when he hears Jae speak from behind her. "I'm sorry." She mumbles. "Love, your dad is here too."

He pinches her waist first before picking up his son and carrying him in his arms. "Hi, sport! It's good to see you!"

"He's my dad?" The little guy asks and the two nod. "How about Janelle? Who's Janelle's dad?"

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at his innocence. "He is also Janelle's dad."

When finally they're done in the ER, they went out and went to Janelle. Julien stays in his dad's arms and Janelle looks up to them.

"Mommy, who's that?" She points at Jae.

"It's dad, love." She replies briefly. The little girl's eyes widen.

"Really?"

Jae crouched down and stretched his empty arm to his daughter. "Yes, sweetheart." She runs and hugs him and he immediately catches her.

"Careful." Y/N holds Jae's back to stop him from falling. He reassures her with a wink and carries Janelle on his other arm. "Jae, they're heavy." She tries to take Julien but he hugs his dad tight.

"No, mommy. I want dad to carry me."

Janelle butts in. "Me too."

She sighs. "Okay." Helen watched them with a big smile plastered on her face. "Helen, we'll be staying here for a few more days. Jae just wants to bond with the kids. I'll just give you the fare to go home and take a break for now. I'll just call you when we come back." The nanny nods. "But first, please help Jae's secretary get all our things from the hotel because we will be staying in Jae's house."

"No worries."

The kids are cheering and singing while their dad drives the car and Y/N is on shotgun. They are just so excited and Jae can't stop smiling.

"Juls, please slow down. We just got out of the hospital." His mom warns him.

"So, I'm thinking maybe we can make bedrooms one for each of them? They get to choose what design they want to choose." Y/N just nods in whatever he says. Jae notices that she's been quiet, she's really not saying anything nor is her face indicating any feelings. "What are you thinking about?"

She shakes her head lightly. "Nothing."

Jae sighs.

After all day of shopping and playing, they finally go to Jae's house. It isn't any less than what Y/N imagined him to be living in. It just screams luxury.

Helen is waiting there as well to bid goodbye to the family as she leaves for home before them.

Jae takes out an envelope from his pocket he got from the bank earlier and hands it to Helen. "This is my token of gratitude for you taking good care of my family. Thank you so much." She opens the envelope slightly and ses a thick bundle of cash and she immediately thanks him.

When Helen and Jae's secretary are already out, Y/N take off her heels because her legs are about to give out already.

"I'll freshen up the two so that they can go to sleep now." She tells him. "Where's the bathroom?"

"Use the one in my room." Y/N looks at him as if saying seriously? to him. "And what if we find something there that we're not meant to find?"

His eyes squint. "Like what?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

Jae shakes his head as pinches her cheeks. "I don't go fuck around." She immediately elbows his abdomen, making him grunt.

"Mouth." She warns before walking past him.

Jae offers to put the kids to bed because he noticed that Y/N is too tired to move already.

"You okay?" He asks her and then sits beside her on the couch.

She nods lazily. "Yeah, why?"

"Nothing, just wanted to check on you since the two are asleep now." He replies and then pulls her legs on top of his lap. She's about to whine but he says. "Shh. You'll wake the kids up." Then starts massaging her legs down to her toes. "I know how hard you worked for Janelle and Julien. I know how much you tried to give them the best life and you succeeded in doing that."

"My life is dedicated to them, Jae. Everything I do and I will do will be for them."

"Good because I will be the one to do everything for you." He smiles slightly. "I can't believe we made the most beautiful pair of twins on earth."

She just smiles. "I'm tired."

"Yeah, I'll carry you to bed." Jae stands up and carries her to his bedroom.

Y/N immediately punches his shoulder when she sees where they're heading. "Jung Jaehyun, stop right there. I'm not sleeping in your bedroom."

"Yes, you are. Why would I let you sleep on a bed that's not my own when you're in my house?" He asks, as if what she wants is the most ridiculous thing in the world. "And based on how I remember it, we never broke up. Maybe we just took time off but we never broke up."

She laughs. "We took time off for 5 years?"

Jae lays her down on the bed. "Yes, and I have never sought for anyone else because I always knew I'd find you." Then flicks her forehead. "But you did."

"What?!"

"That guy who you hugged during the conference. You were smiling at him."

She rolls her eyes at what he said. She knows that he knows he's just a colleague. "I'll sleep now."

"Good night, mommy." He whispers while planting a kiss on her cheeks.

He then positions himself next to her, nestling under the covers. "Good night, daddy." She mumbles but Jae definitely heard, drawing a big smile from him.

The next day came, they had breakfast and decided to stay indoors since it's raining outside. They're in the living room all bunched up under a big blanket while they watch cartoons. The kids specifically asked the two to sit together with them.

"Mommy, daddy, moms and dads kiss so how come you two don't?" Janelle asks innocently.

Y/N chokes on her own spit after hearing that while Jae nods at her daughter, "I know, right? Mom doesn't want me to kiss her."

The two turn to their mom. "Why not?"

"Because dad did not brush his teeth." She laughs hysterically while Jae's hand sneaks under the sheets to pinch her side.

"Hey." He calls her out. "I did." And defends himself.

She continues to laugh. "You don't have proof."

"I can kiss you right and you'd be the one to tell if I brushed my teeth or not."

"Stop being so childish."

The two little people took their afternoon naps. Jae and Y/N finally have time to clean up and prepare for dinner.

Jae's arms sneak around Y/N's waist as she washes the plates they used for their snacks. "We can have dinner at Sailor tonight. Then we can walk by the boulevard."

"Yeah, that's fine." She agrees.

"Kiss me." Pouting his lips near her face.

"Jae." She warns. "Stop bothering me."

He sneakers and lets her go. "Fine, but after that, while the two are still sleeping, we can go ahead and prepare for dinner."

"Yeah."

So after she washed everything, she went to their room. He sits there shirtless, while reading a book. Her cheeks flushed with heat upon seeing his abs, biceps and arms on display.

She goes to the bathroom to change and prepare. Then comes back a couple of minutes later wearing a maroon, flowy, mini dress that hugs her tiny waistline just enough, showing off her collarbone, and perfect looking cleavage. She just curls her hair, forming big waves and then her make up.

Jae's eyes stays at her for a couple of seconds, raking her body, observing her figure and entire look. "You look hot." He blurts out.

"Thanks, I intended to." She sits on the armrest of the couch, crossing her legs and arms. "So what do you want to happen after this? We will be going back home on Sunday."

"Why can you not stay here?"

"First of all, I have a job." She says. "Second, why would I?"

"Because I want you with me. I want to be able to see my family everyday and take care of them."

She snorts. "That's weird, because based on how I remember before, you were working most of the time and you almost had no time for me. Now if you have no time for one, how much more for three."

Jae groans. "Look, that was before. I'm not leaving you behind now especially after knowing what it's like to live without you."

"We are not getting back together, Jae."

"Why not?"

Scenes from her past with Jae's family come back like they have just been dug out from the grave. "I-I just can't."

"Y/N, what will make you come back to me? I will literally do everything. I just can't let you go after looking for you for 5 fucking years."

"I can't leave my job."

"I can request for you to be transferred here. There's really no point of you working, I'll be the one to work for us."

"I really need to think about it."

He nods in agreement. "No rush, just take all the time you need."

They just stared at each other for a few seconds, observing each other's face comfortably. "Who told you to get piercings?"

His stares linger because of how tempting and vulnerable she looks right now. "You." He replies. "You said I look good with them."

"Well, I was right."

Jae pats his lap. "Come here."

"Why?"

"So we can make out?" She couldn't prevent a laugh at his bluntness. She walks towards him as he reaches both his arms to her. "I can't imagine how you fit two babies in this body, babe."

"You would've been turned off if you saw me pregnant. I was a pig."

He tilts his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows. "Okay, first of all, never say that again. If one gets pregnant of course their body gets big, because there's a baby in them. They need to eat a lot because they're basically eating for two. So don't say that." His hands hold her by the waist and lift her up to set her on his lap. "I love you." Planting a kiss on her lips and watching her reaction. "I miss you."

Y/N holds his face and puts her lips on his. He holds her waist tighter as he devours her lips, like that's the only thing he's been craving for this whole time. His arms eventually find its way wrapping around her waist and the free hand holding her steady by the nape, turning her in all angles to make sure he tastes her the best way. She’s breathless and her lipsstick is all messed up now but he doesn't really care.

"Jae." She gasps.

He breathes against her lips. "Hmm?"

She doesn't say anything and just puts feathery kisses all over his face as her eyes tear up. Nobody knows how much she wanted this for the last 5 years. This is the only thing she asked for, just him and she can't help but feel like crying when she finally got what she wanted. "I fucking miss you. And thank you for accepting our children, I was honestly worried if you didn't want them. I was scared that when you found out, you'd wish they never existed."

Jae holds her back firmly, looking at her face. "Why? I would never do that. You know that you're the best thing that happened to me and all I ever wanted was to make a family with you."

She laughs. "I know, it's just that there are really things in my head that I wish aren't there."

"Well, it's time for you to stop thinking about those because I am the happiest right now with you, Janelle and Julien." Patting her head lightly. "And I really appreciate you making their names start with the initial of my first name."

Y/N smiles sheepishly. "Yeah, I just can't leave you out of the picture."

The lights of the restaurant shine perfectly on them. Jae and Y/N have gotten sweeter, and intimate. They are almost in sync, attending to both their children.

"What do you want to eat, love?" Jae asks Janelle, showing her the menu book.

Janelle points at the raspberry tart. "I want this."

"Jan, dessert is for later." Her mom reminds her.

"If she wants it--" Jae gets cut off by Y/N's glare and he just chuckles. "Mom's right."

As the waitress is taking their order, Y/N notices her batting her eyelashes to her man, smiling flirtatiously and suggestively. That annoys her to the bones, she holds Jae's hand. He notices it, looking at her with a comforting smile and says, "Love, what do you want?" Slowly massaging her hand.

"The pan seared scallops would do." She smiles.

As they were about to leave after dinner, Jae bumped into one of the people he knows in the industry.

"Jae! It's good to see you, man!" The guy gives Jae a manly hug. "Who are you with?"

"Oh, I'm with my family." He replies. "This is Y/N, my wife." Y/N kinda gets stunned and glances at Jae before offering her hand to the man. "And our kids, Janelle and Julien."

The man, Yuta, gets surprised. "I didn't know you had a family!"

"I actually messed up somehow, that's why I only was able to be with them now." He replies without hesitations. And Y/N has never ever thought she'd be more attracted to Jae. Nothing more attractive than a man who admits his mistakes.

As they drive home, Jae notices Y/N constantly glancing at him so he asks, "Is something wrong?"

"You were so honest telling that man earlier about how you messed up."

"That's because that's something I cannot deny." He shrugs. "And you, were you jealous with the waitress earlier?"

She scoffs. "I wasn't jealous. I was just under the impression that you were not interested in her so I did what I could to save you." Sarcastically, while crossing her arm. "Was I wrong to do that?"

"No, you weren't. I wasn't interested in her. I have you."

Y/N shrugs. "Whatever."

"Mommy, Jan is sleeping." They hear Julien from the back.

"Yes, love." She replies. "Just let her sleep, we're almost home."

They arrive home and Jae carries Janelle to their bedroom while Y/N walks with Julien. Then they prepare the two for bed and stay in there until the two are already asleep.

When they walk out of their kids' room, Jae asks, "How about you, babe? You good?"

She sighs. "Yeah." Then goes to their room.

Jae catches up, pulling her towards him and then locking her in with his arms around her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Jae. I'm just tired."

He scans her face. "You look really beautiful." Whispers, then his eyes stayed on her lips.

"More beautiful than the waitress?" She jokes.

Jae can't help but cough out a laugh. "You're funny. I didn't even look at the waitress."

"I know, I was watching."

He pins her to the door and smashes his lips against hers. He's got the rough hold on her, and she just went along with the kiss, letting him dominate her. One of his hands slides down her dress and grabs her ass making her moan.

"You like that, huh?" He smirks against her lips. "You've just gotten more irresistible, Y/N. I'm holding myself back from bending you against my bed and fucking you so hard."

She pushes him back a little, locking their eyes together. "Why are you holding back?"

"Because our children are sleeping just a few rooms down the hall and I remember how loud you can get."

Y/N rolls her eyes. "I promise, I'll be quiet."

"You just wanna be railed, don't you?"

Without hesitations, she says "Yes."

He places a quick peck on her lips then starts kissing her neck, sucking on her skin, marking her as his.

When Jae woke up, Y/N was no longer on their bed. He quickly washes his face and brushes his teeth before going out only to find the three in the kitchen. Y/N is cooking while the two watch her curiously, asking their mom constantly about whatever she was doing while munching on some fruits. Of course, Y/N answers them all with patience.

"Hi, dad." Janelle hugs his dad's legs when she sees him walk towards them.

Jae lifts then puts her in his arms. "Good morning, princess." He kisses her cheek then goes to ruffle his son's hair. "Good morning, sport."

Y/N watches him adoringly as he greets their kids. Jae then goes to her with a knowing smirk plastered on his face, snaking his free arm around her waist and kissing her cheek. "Good morning, love." The smell of mint on his breath lingers.

"Mom already allows you to kiss her?" The innocent ones ask.

Her mom pinches her cheeks. "Yes, because he already brushed his teeth." Chuckling at what she said.

Jae scoffs and pokes her side. "I always do."

"Stop, I'm cooking." She tells him. "You guys go prepare the table, this is almost done."

She watches his back as he walks away. He's sexy as fuck.

Jae helps Y/N bring the food to the table. They've been stealing glances, kisses and touches like teenagers again and it filled Y/N's stomach with butterflies and got her heart pounding. She's never been this happy and in love again.

"Jae." She calls him as they eat. "We need to go back home soon."

He looks at her tapping his finger on his fork, deep in his thoughts. "I'll go with you guys. I can't let you go, Y/N. We'll go and get all your belongings then come back here."

Y/N is very hesitant about the abrupt decision. They haven't given it enough thought. She wants to be with him and so do their kids for sure but there are a lot of things to consider.

As the kids are playing, in the living room, Y/N goes to Jae who was cleaning the dishes. She just leans by the sink, not saying anything.

He glances at her for a second. "What's in your head, love?"

"Everything?"

Jae puts the last plate on the rack and dries his hand. "You're worried about moving in with me." He states. "But there's no need to feel that way. I can't say this enough but you and our kids are the only thing that matters to me now. I can't... no, I won't let you go."

"It's just happening too quickly."

Jaehyun bites his lip, looking down as he thinks. Then he nods. "Alright. I'm not gonna force you to move right away but I'm still going with you when you go home."

"I might also change my mind. It's just that right now, it's too scary for me."

He just pulls her into a hug. They were deep into their conversation that they didn't notice their children sneaking up to them, embracing their parents legs because those are the only things they can reach.

Y/N tears up when she sees the two.

"Why are we hugging?" Julien asks cutely and innocently. Jae picks him up while Y/N picks Janelle up too.

Both Jae and Y/N look at each other. He wipes the tears rolling from her eyes down to her cheeks and that's the only time she noticed that she was crying. "Because mommy's just feeling so happy." He tells the kids.

"Isn't this better?" Y/N asks herself.

"Okay, you guys know what we will do today?" Jae asks. The children excitedly respond while Y/N is curious too. "We will go shopping to pick out designs for your rooms."

"Yehey!" The two cheer.

"Daddy, I want purple with fairies and princesses."

"I want cars and airplanes!"

Y/N watches her kids play. She remembers the looks on their faces when she introduced Jae as their dad. They were so happy and excited. Here, they have access to everything. They can have everything they need. Jae had been so responsible and just a good... scratch that, perfect, willing dad.

"Jae." She calls him softly and he immediately turns to her and hums. "We'll move in with you."

His eyes widen and a big smile spreads on his face as he embraces her and showers her with kisses on her face. "I love you so much. I can't wait to be with you forever."

"I love you too." She pouts and buries herself under his embrace. "I hope you know that. My hesitation was never about you."

-----

A little to long, my bad.

176 notes · View notes

dedfly · 2 months

Text

I WOULD ✨ESPECIALLY✨ WRITE FOR SHADOW MILK COOKIE BECAUSE I'M HYPED

But as you can see I write about another cookies too

I mostly trying to write in gender natural tone, because yeah

I would write only romance or platonic headcanons (or oneshots)

even NSFW. I don't mind NSFW

So no siblings, kids ect (AND NO! ROMANCE WITH CHILDREN AND SIBLINGS IS NOT ALLOWED EW)

I could do

† oneshots

† headcanons

Sometimes I wouldn't do request. Not because it's gross or whatever, simply because I personally didn't click with it. So I can't force myself to do it But i appreciate anyone who asked nonetheless

Master list

† Shadow Milk Cookie †

Oneshot

1. Shadow Milk Cookie x reader (meet after Shadow was sealed away)

2. Shadow Milk Cookie x tired reader

Headcanons.

★ Shadow Milk Cookie dating headcanons

★ Shadow milk cookie dating headcanons part 2

★ Shadow milk cookie kissing headcanons

★Shadow milk cookie x claustrophobic reader

★ Shadow Milk Cookie x ticklish reader

★ Yandere Shadow Milk Cookie x hypnotized reader

★Shadow Milk x Faerie reader inspired by little mermaid storyline

★Shadow Milk Cookie x scared reader

★Vampire and hypnotis shadow milk cookie x reader

★Shadow Milk being caught while they are writting poetry about reader

๑ Butter Roll Cookie ๑

Oneshots

★Butter roll cookie x ticklish reader

Headcanons

★ Butter Roll Cookie x reader

★ Butter Roll Cookie x ticklish reader

★ Butter Roll Cookie x easily flustered reader

★Butter roll cookie x sleepy reader

★Butter Roll Cookie x chubby reader

~Affogato Cookie~

Oneshot

sub!Affogato cookie x reader

Headcanons

★ Affogato Cookie x reader

★ Affogato Cookie x easily flustered reader Pt. 1

★ Affogato Cookie x easily flustered reader Pt. 2

ψMatcha Cookieψ

★Matcha cookie x autistic reader

★Matcha Cookie x anxious reader

†Burning spice cookie†

★Burning spice cookie x reader

°Royal Margarine°

★Royal Margarine x autistic reader pt.1 pt.2 pt.2.1

×Wildberry cookie×

★Yandere Wildberry cookie x Reader

#shadow milk cookie #cookie run #crk x reader #shadow milk cookie x reader #shadow milk crk #shadow milk cookie x you #crk x you #cookie run kingdom

44 notes · View notes

hart269 · 2 years

Text

A Savoury Moment

Oneshot

Pairing : Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary : Matt returns home early just as you were about to eat your cookies.

A/N : Fluff and some midnight dancing. Read it on Ao3.

Masterlist

Taking a nap in the afternoon was the worst idea ever, you knew that but you were so tired and your eyes were drooping from exhaustion, so once you fell on the bed you slept and forgot about setting an alarm.

The result, you were awake in the middle of the night closing your eyes wishing sleep would take over. Sleeping alone in a cold bed was a difficulty in itself, Matt was out fighting crime, which added to your overthinking about everything, cause no matter how much you tried the worrying thoughts were poking your brain, making you anxious.

You sighed pulling off the blanket and blinking in the dark, deciding to get up for a while and to try to sleep again later. Your stomach grumbled as you stepped out of the bedroom into the living room.

You turned on some slow music to drown the silence. Putting some milk on the stove you ransacked the kitchen for cookies and finally finding a few left, you sat on the couch and as you were about to dip the cookie in the milk, a deep voice came from behind,

"That smells nice"

You jumped barely able to stop the milk from spilling, putting the mug on the table be you turned around, "Matthew" you scolded looking at the guilty man standing in the shadows, his daredevil suit on from that night's patrol.

"I'm sorry" he chuckled, before walking up to you.

Your eyes wandered around his body checking for wounds and bruises, which he felt, "I'm fine, just feeling a little hungry"

"Then don't scare me like that" you grumbled hitting his arm as you stood up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close.

He breathed your scent mixed with his a result of you wearing his shirt, putting his arms around your waist and lightly caressing it, he pulled you close and kissed you. You both separated with a identically sweet smile, you took off his mask running your hands through his messy hair, "Your're home early today"

He hummed burying his head into your neck, "There wasn't much to do today and I missed you"

"Aww, I missed you too", you both swayed for a while before you pulled away, "But I'm afraid there aren't cookies for the both of us"

He groaned before smirking, "Looks like we have to make some then"

"Well, why don't you go change while I am setting up the ingredients" you agreed, looking up at him. His grin widened, he moved to give you a last kiss before walking towards his bedroom.

You looked around the kitchen, pulling out all the ingredients from your favourite recipe that you had saved in your phone when Matt joined you in his hoodie and sweatpants. You began reading aloud the recipe and added stuff while he mixed all of them, and with the team effort the cookies were in the oven in no time.

Cleaning up you were both sitting on the counter, munching on the little cookies you had, waiting for the new cookies to finish baking, sharing the last one left, you leaned on his arm and sighed, "Now we have to wait"

"Or do we" he smirked freeing his hand and jumping off the counter, you looked at him confused trying to figure out what he was trying to do.

"Well, unless you can control time, I think we do" you muttered.

"I can't control time but I know how to make it pass quickly" he replied kissing your forehead.

Matt went towards the record player and turned up the volume, he walked back to you and raised his hand in the air offering it to you.

"My lady, will you accept my hand"

"Yes I will, forever and ever"

You smiled giddily accepting his hand as he lifted you and gently put you down on the ground.

He pulled you towards him, you looked into his warm brown eyes that glinted in the dim lights of the kitchen. You two began swaying at the sweet melody that had filled the room, your steps matched as you both started dancing in a rhythm. The light aroma of the half-baked cookies spread through the air making your stomach growl. Matt giggled while you buried your head in his chest.

The song changed to a slightly upbeat one but still slow, you two began dancing, laughter echoed through the apartment as Matt twirled you then pulled you back before spinning you again.

It wasn't usual after all that Matt came back completely unharmed or fully tired which made you want to savour these moments forever. It was as these moments came fleeting but perfect in their own way.

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil x y/n #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock one shot #daredevil x female reader #daredevil imagine #daredevil one shot

302 notes · View notes

lovemallow · 2 months

Text

Request Status : Open . . . !

What I will do . . . !

Fluff

LGBTQIAP+ Relationships

Polyamorous Relationships

Yandere

Headcanons

Oneshots

Friend to Lovers

Best Friends to Lovers

Childhood Friends to Lovers

Strangers to Lovers

X Reader

Crossovers (like reader is from another source or reader is like a character from other source or both)

What I won't do . . . !

Angst

Su//icidal Character(s)

NSFW / Lemon

Lime / Suggestive

Anything against LGBTQIAP+ people

Anything racist

Minor x Adult relationships

Canon x Canon

Male Reader (unless TransMasc Reader)

Request Rules . . . !

I will only do POC friendly content

Refrain from using Typing Quirks when requesting

Request only one thing per ask

If I denied your request, don't send it again

I don't roleplay as characters, do not insist on it

Don't bring any type of discourse here

Don't spam your request

If I write something for the beasts and/or Lychee Dragon and Longan Dragon, it will always be Yandere, because I can't see them in a healthy relationship

Which characters I write for . . . ?

[Epics] Mozzarela Cookie, Frilled Jellyfish Cookie, Prune Juice Cookie, Kouign-Amann Cookie, Cotton Cookie, Latte Cookie, Kumiho Cookie, Black Raisin Cookie, Croissant Cookie.

[Super Epics] Crimson Coral Cookie, Stardust Cookie, Sherbet Cookie, Clotted Cream Cookie.

[Legendaries] Sea Fairy Cookie, Moonlight Cookie, Black Pearl Cookie/White Pearl Cookie, Wind Archer Cookie, Fire Spirit Cookie, Millennial Tree Cookie, Sugar Swan Cookie, Abyss Monarch Cookie, Frost Queen Cookie, Timekeeper Cookie,

[Dragons] Lotus Dragon Cookie, Lychee Dragon Cookie, Longan Dragon Cookie.

[Ancients] Pure Vanilla Cookie, Hollyberry Cookie, Golden Cheese Cookie, White Lily Cookie.

[Beasts] Shadow Milk Cookie, Mystic Flour Cookie, Eternal Sugar Cookie, Burning Spice Ccokie, Silent Salt Cookie

#✦・┊🎀꒱ navigation₊୧‧˚₊๑ #blog rules #request rules #rules #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run ovenbreak x reader

11 notes · View notes

shmolish · 24 days

Text

Shadow Milk x Reader

Oneshot

Warnings: Implied Swearing (?) Not proof read

-Rainy Day Shenanigans-

What is one supposed to do on a rainy day?

Sleep in? Play games? Read?

According to Shadow Milk Cookie, it's clinging to your lover.

"I'm not clingy, I'm conserving body heat."

His arms wrapped around your waist, and he'd hold you close to him.

"The only one cold here is you," You'd respond.

"Okay, what's your point?"

You'd sigh.

There's no reasoning with him.

But oh well. It's not that bad.

"Oh! We should bake something!" He would suggest out of the blue.

"What- Why?"

"Come on, it'll be fun!"

Shadow Milk Cookie took hold of your hand and dragged you into the kitchen.

You had just cleaned the counter earlier, so it was pristine with a white glow.

That wasn't going to last very long.

"So, what do we plan on making today?" You asked him.

"A cake!"

"You know neither one of us know how to bake, right?"

"Yeah but how hard can it be? We get the recipe and do the things. Easy."

He found an easy enough recipe and started to collect ingredients around your house.

"This is everything!"

Flour, eggs, milk, vanilla extract, sugar, butter, and baking powder.

"Okay, what do we do first?" You asked.

Both of you went through each of the steps, measuring and adding ingredients.

Sure, it was messy, but things weren't that bad..

...

"MILK WHAT TEMPERATURE DID YOU SET IT TO?"

"3,500?"

"WHAT THE F-"

So yeah. That happened.

The cake came out as a pile of ash.

"Um, ta-da?" He smiled at you awkwardly.

"You were supposed to set it to 350, not 3,500," you said while glaring at the 'cake'.

"Oops! My bad..." He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck.

"But at least I failed with my most beloved~"

He kissed your neck softly, snaking arms around your waist.

"So cooking isn't realy our thing. Wanna play games instead?"

"I guess-"

《☆》

"Go fish."

You rolled your eyes and drew another card from the pile.

"Do you have a seven of hearts?"

You handed him your card. This is the tenth match he's had this game.

"Are you cheating?" You'd ask with a skeptical look.

"No, you're just bad."

"I'm am not. This game is basically luck based."

"Okay, whatever. Do you have a king of spades?"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, love," he said with a grin.

"Go fish!"

...

"I want a rematch! I can definitely win this time."

You played ten rounds with him, and only won two.

Each time he'd snicker at you, and give you that cheeky grin.

"Doll, I admire your persistence. Really, I do. I just think we should try something else..."

"Like what?"

"Like watching a movie. That way I can hold you close to me, and admire you."

"So you don't really care about the movie then?"

"I mean, I do care about it. Just not as much as I care about you. There's nothing I care more about that you, dove."

You couldn't help the slight blush on your face.

You couldn't help the way your heart churned.

How had you gotten so lucky?

"Now come on, I wanna hold you!"

Shadow Milk Cookie would pick you up in his arms and place you down onto the couch, where he spent his time wrapping his arms around you, and giving you his affection.

A random movie played in the background, but to him, you were much more entertaining.

"I love you," he cooed.

"I love you too," You'd respond.

《☆》 Fin

92 notes · View notes

thedarkcircuswritings · 2 months

Note

Holy shit I have been seeing your account all day and you work so fast and so good. So I finally6jad the courage to make a request.

I think I have seen this trope around, but I also want to see your take on the idea:

✨✨✨ Shadow milk x reader that knows how to dance ✨✨✨

like, maybe a ballet dancer specifically if possible? The whole theater and jester aesthetic would be really interesting to see mixed with that :3

Shadow Milk rested his hands on your posing form, a smile on his face as he cooed at you. "How graceful, like a swan! Beautiful, like a peacock! Delectable, made from the sweetest ingredients around... Yes, you are perfect for me, aren't you?" He carefully helped to spin you around, moving his hand up to hold yours in the air as he began to walk around you, keeping his gaze locked with yours. "You know, when I laid my eyes on you for the first time, I knew you'd be perfect for my shows... I am always one to have a key eye for great entertainers, and you? Uehehehe, you've certainly struck yourself into the spotlight I set for you!" Shadow Milk then stopped, allowing the strings on your body to continue to spin you around on your platform, just like a music box. He grinned at his own creation, and how your beauty made it all the better. "Yes... Please continue to dance for me, my cygnet!"

#🎭Shadow Writing!#Aaaa I'm so glad you enjoy my work!#Don't worry I do not bite most of the time :3 #Also this is literally a perfect trope for Shadow Milk x anybody #I am ascending at this anon #Ty for informing me of this #shadow milk cookie #y/n cookie #reader cookie #shadow milk x reader #shadow milk x ballet reader #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run oneshot

82 notes · View notes

b4b3tte · 1 year

Note

Hi! Dunno if you're taking request but if you are could I ask for a Robin Arellano w a fem! girly s/o? :³

♡ BOYFRIEND ♡

Pairing : Robin Arellano x Fem!Reader.

genre : Fluff | bit nsfw(as in staring)| head canons. | Oneshot

Summary : Head canons and a short oneshot for robin Arellano!!

Warning: Some parts are somewhat nsfw so I’m sorry!!! Babette/Vivica’s Note!!! : MY FIRST REQUEST IM EXCITED🤗!!!!! I am accepting requests so feel free to request anything!!

As much as he isn’t a big fan of the type of style, he does love all the bright colors and clothing on you. Sometimes he will make fun of you but if someone else does, boy aren’t they in for a treat. If any of the teachers try to tell you something or dress code you for “ distracting “ the guys robin will rock their shit. You probably encourage him not to cause fights or issues he still does it anyway, mainly to protect you(<3) even though he gets suspended or get weeks of detention he would do anything to protect,save and stand up for you, it’s kinda concerning how you would go meet him outside the bathrooms after a fight and he is so normal and calm

“ Oh my god! Robin (favorite pet name) are you alright?? Are you hurt badly? “

“ chill y/n, I’m okay but how about you what’s happening? “

If you are a fighter or get into fights ( even though your girly you can still kick ass because yes 😻) he loves watching you rock a girls shit for spilling food/drinks on your outfits, in lunch if he isn’t sitting next to you which is rare and some girl or guy drops their milk on you, it’s on sight. Robin will just sit back and smirk like a proud boyfriend he will only step in if a teacher comes in or the person your fighting brought some of there friends which won’t be needed because you can handle it.

Sometimes when you are getting ready for classes or just going out, he will mess with you and your items. Example, if you two are going on a date or party he will ruin your eye shadow palette,Put highlighter on his wrists, put a lip oil on his lips and maybe try to do your eyeliner!

For clothing, he would never look in your closet he would have a weird look on his face, but when you wear it or trying clothes out, he is DOWN BAD just the way the clothes enhances your different features and lighten your body is just breathtaking for him. Sometimes when he is in the mood for shopping( for things in general) he will go to some stores with you and help you pick out some things ( purposely picks revealing outfits but shush )

𖤐 Short oneshot 𖤐

( slightly nsfw )

It was a Friday, and of course it’s fun Friday and you wanted to look your best, for no reason but just to get ready but you lost track of time. School starts at 7:35 it’s 7:50!! You were barley finishing your makeup, you had to do your hair and pick out your outfit.Robin on the other hand was wondering what was taking you so long, your parent(s) went to work it’s not like they had to drive you and there was traffic and there’s no way you would walk to school without him and the bus should have dropped you off already, he guessed you were sleeping. After you finished curling/straightening your hair you quickly picked an outfit, A (your favorite color skirt) and long sleeved shirt but kinda short length wise and you picked fishnets along with (Your favorite pair of shoes). You grabbed your bag along with random rings.

As your speed walking to school you put the rings on and started running.,You walk into the office waiting for the counselor to give you a late slip and to let you in class, after that you head to period 2 English class, you open the door all out of breath while your teacher speaks up .

“ oh look who decides to show up, do I even wanna know your excuse this time? “

“ Look im so sorry! It was a fashion emergency!“

“ fashion emergency.. “

“ it’s still a emergency..? “

“ sit your ass down y/n and take out your notebook, your lucky I’m not calling your parent(s)! “

Meanwhile that, Robin was in candy land or something, Finn even noticed how no matter what robins eyes was stuck on you, I mean he hasn’t seen you since last night when you were in your Pjs and now he sees you in some hot outfit? Dude is staring bad like he has no shame in the world thinking about things he shouldn’t. You were embarrassed that the teacher called you out in front of the class so you didn’t even look back at your classmates or Robin so you just sat in the seat in front of him and boy what a perfect view of your back and neck.

Finn thought you were pretty but would never stare down at you like Robin is doing, he literally had to kick robins shoe to get him to snap out of it and not look at your waist and ass. Robin didn’t give no shits, it took for the teacher to call for his attention.

“ AY, ARELLANO! FOCUS! “

“..uh yeah I’m focusing “

“ So you call staring at y/n’s waist and hips focusing on the lesson?.. Pay attention or I’m sending you to the principals office “

“ fuck my life “

“ What was that? “

“ NOTHING “

I deeply apologize for making this so late! I hope this makes up for it! But I’m super happy that this was my first request and that it was one of the black phone characters!! And yes my requests are open! So please don’t be afraid to request tysm love you guys sm!!🫶

#the black phone #robin tbp #robin arellano #fanfic #requests #thank you #Robin Arellano the black phone #x reader #robin x reader #nameisvivixaa #Arellano #robin Arellano x female reader #tbp hcs #fypage

55 notes · View notes

artemiseamoon · 8 months

Note

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤️

Hey 😁 how are you! 💜

Since I did recent fics for the last ask like this, I’ll dedicate this one to some oldies from a fandom I really miss. It was the last time I really felt like I was part of a community here, le sigh. But I’m glad I was able to experience it and make the friends I did! Vikings community, I adore you & you’ll always be with me!

VIKINGS

In the shadows ~ Halfdan x f reader (one of my favs I’ve ever done) it’s a bit dark

If we only ever loved once ~ Modern! king a Harald x ofc | almost ofc x Halfdan (god this has my heart, a soulmate/missed chance fic)

Milk & Honey ~ how does someone whose not a Bjorn girl, at all, I can’t stand him 😂 write a werebear soulmate au??? I don’t know. But it happened and I love this story so much. This Bjorn is okay with me :)

My first long Vikings fic, A golden palace which I love to f’n much, I actually finished it but never completed it on tumblr. I got discouraged when ppl stopped interacting and reblogging but man, this fic holds a special place in my heart! Plus I got to spent a lot of time writing that bastard Oleg who I love and hate at the same time.

Tied between these for the last one: a gift from the gods (dark king Harald oneshot w/ a little halfdan, smutty and indulgent ) absolute pleasure ( another smutty self indulgent one, my oc gets to use both Halfdan and Harald sexually one shot)

The last ask, where I rec some of my recent stuff

#fanfic rec #self rec #Vikings fandom #Vikings fanficion #those older things might need some editing but I love them anyway

9 notes · View notes

moonlit-imagines · 2 years

Text

Ghost of Failure

TASM!Peter Parker x sibling!reader

warnings: nwh spoilers, blood and death ment, also im sorry lmao

a/n: gif cred - @buckypascal also no there will not be a part 2 i am so sorry

prompt: anonymous: “hey!! Could i request being Peter Parker’s sibling (Andrew) oneshot and he thought reader died the same day that Gwen did reader comes to the universe bc they’re apart of the ppl who know Peter Parker and they meet again?? And then they’re fighting alongside all the Spider-Man with him as best as they can and he’s super protective (and it’s not weird at all just completely platonic)”

It all started ten years ago for Peter. You had just died due to a lethal electrocution and Gwen wasn’t too far behind, which made this day go down in history as Peter’s worst nightmare. He felt so lonely without Gwen, his first love, his broken promise—but you, his sibling? Without you, he was empty. Peter walked past the door of your unoccupied room every morning, wishing that just once more he could hear your music and bang on the door to tell you to turn it down. Or fight over the end of the milk carton. Or have you argue with him for waking you up when he sneaks back in the house at night. He missed you dearly and it destroyed him inside.

As his world, and many others, kept turning, he got bitter. Driven by grief. The two people he loved most had been taken from him and he had no choice but to blame himself. And in all these years, he never forgave or forgot.

But you were never a stranger to strange occurrences, so when you ended up in a different New York, you knew something was up. Not only was it a different place, it was a different time. “Oh…no.” You wondered if you should stay in place, or maybe try and call someone? Last you checked, Peter was fighting Electro and you were on standby, but who knows if that was still true. You grabbed your phone from your pocket and to your surprise, no bars—and a time glitch. “What the hell is going on?” You asked yourself and groaned, dropping your arms to your sides and throwing your head back. After a few moments of thinking, you decided to wander.

It wasn’t long before you walked straight into a portal. This was definitely not your New York at all.

“Hey!” You shouted, trying to push your way out of the dark cell you’d found yourself in. “What’s the deal?! Who are you? Where am I?!” You kept annoyingly knocking on the invisible division between captivity and freedom. “Peter..?” You squinted at the red-suited figure that walked from the shadows, the one who had just learned of his own mistakes.

“Yeah, that’s me…” The boy shyly replied while you recognized the fact that he was not your brother. “Who are you?”

“Who am I?” You raised your eyebrows. “Who are you? You sure aren’t Spider-Man.”

“Actually, I am,” he scratched the back of his head, feeling bad for putting you through all this confusion, “but I can explain. I kind of pulled you out of your universe by accident because Dr. Strange, him, he cast a spell that I messed up and so yeah. Sorry.” Peter rambled and you stared at him like he was crazy.

“Can you just let me out of here?” You asked exhaustedly. “I’ve had a rough day both here and home.” You leaned on the barrier and waited for it to disappear.

“Tell us who you are first.” Doctor Strange first asked.

“I’m y/n Parker.” You revealed, shocking this Peter immediately since he was an only child. “Judging by the look on your face, I don’t exist here.”

“You do not.” Peter gulped, maybe a little jealous of this other him. “Okay, can we let them out now?” He asked the wizard and the man hesitated. “Please, sir? They can help my friends find the others. I’m sure they have experience with this kind of thing, don’t you, y/n?”

“A lot, actually. Before I was taken from my world, I was fighting a man made of electricity who was trying to take all of New York offline to gain more power.” You explained and both looked at the wizard with begging eyes before he caved, waving his hand to release you. You first ran towards the variation of your brother and grabbed his hand to shake it. “Now, I have to say that this is so cool. I have living proof that the multiverse is real, this is so crazy.” You laughed and Peter just knew you were definitely his relative, no matter how far the family trees were rooted.

“You have no idea,” Peter smiled, but suddenly brought you in for a hug, “I never imagined meeting my sibling from another universe!” You hugged him back, he was your brother, after all. Sure reminded you of him.

“Speaking of siblings,” you veered off, “do you have any idea if my brother is here? I disappeared while he was in the middle of a catastrophic battle, he’s probably really worried about me.” Peter had a sorry look on his face, making you wonder if you said something wrong.

“I’m really sorry, but I don’t know. But my friends are on their way! They’re gonna help me track everyone down online, so you can help find him!” He exclaimed and you perked up. “Wanna get a head start?” You nodded and Peter took you to a laptop that looked a bit newer.

“Peter, what year is it?” You decided to ask a strange question and he humored you.

“2024.” He said and your jaw dropped.

“It was 2014 two hours ago, Peter.” You mumbled and heard a chuckle from the shadows, looking up to see a familiar, scaly face. “Doctor Conners?” You asked in disbelief. “You’re a lizard again…”

“Hello, Mx. Parker.” The creature greeted, surprising your new friend. “We seem to be in the same boat.”

“He’s from your universe?” Peter curiously asked, more curious as to why the man looked like a beast.

“Yeah, he was my dad’s partner, another scientist. Smart guy, but it got to be a little much when he tried to turn all of New York into lizards as a little science experiment.” You explained, excited to try out this laptop from the future as you looked away from old memories and powered it up.

“You and your brother refuse to understand my work. As lizards, we would have functioned better as a community.” Dr. Conners replied and you scoffed.

“Yeah, but we’d also be lizards.” You would have kept bickering, but Peter’s friends arrived and got to meet his very own multiversal sibling. They were nothing short of amazed by the discovery.

“So you know this lizard guy?!” His friend, Ned, asked, partially because he thought it was a dinosaur that wanted to eat him. While you conversed with Peter’s friends, you stumbled across a new discovery. Another threat.

“Peter, check it out.” You pointed to the screen at several reports describing a strange figure flying about. “This your guy? The one you were searching for?” Peter took a look and pulled his mask on.

“I’m gonna check it out, you guys sit tight!” He rushed out of the room and went on his way to capture this guy, especially with his enhanced web shooter in his artillery. While you waited for your new “friend” to arrive, you indulged in some otherworldly snacks while Peter’s friends flipped out trying to figure out what was going on. You hadn’t put it together through the fuzzy connection on the screen, but when he appeared in the cell a few minutes later, you froze.

“Max?” You finally stepped into view and heard him begin to laugh.

“Looks like I’m seeing a ghost.” He commented as you walked closer, seeing your puzzled expression and only growing more entertained. “Oh, so that didn’t happen yet?”

“What are you talking about?” You questioned as the room went quiet, intrigued by your conversation.

“Last you remember, you were in our world, right? And I was doing my thing, taking all the power, fighting your brother?” Max recounted the events you’d just lived and you nodded your response. “Yeah, I killed you. Yet here you are.”

“Yeah, here I am.” You shot back and stormed away with an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. When you reconvened with Ned and MJ, they pulled you closer and began their whispers.

“What is he talking about?” MJ asked and you shook your head.

“Nothing. I don’t know. He’s lost it, trust me.” You peered over your shoulder to see his sinister smile, staring right at you.

It wasn’t long before Peter and Strange came back and the while situation was explained to you all. Everyone here had died while fighting your brother, but you had died helping him. Electro wasn’t lying when he said he took you out, so he started laughing again.

“What are you laughing at, man? You die like, ten minutes after me.” You snapped at him and he shrugged.

“Yeah, but at least I got back at Spider-Man.” Max told you and you rolled your eyes, landing them on Peter. You knew exactly what he was thinking, he was just like your brother. So he vouched for a way to save you all so he didn’t have your blood on his hands. It just so happened that the wizard wasn’t having it, so Peter took things into his own hands.

“Y/N, MJ, Ned,” Peter addressed you with the box that could save or end you with a press of a button, “take this and do not press the button until I say so. I have to give them a chance, give you a chance.” Peter looked to you and you grabbed him for another hug.

“Thank you, Peter.” You tried not to burst into tears at your seemingly inevitable future.

“Of course, y/n. It’s what brothers do.” He loved calling himself that. Peter then pat you on the back and sent you on your way, your new meeting place at Ned’s lola’s house. Hours went by and you grew more terrified by the moment. Your death sentence was sitting on the dining room table and a very protective girlfriend had it in her grips.

“I’m gonna press it.” MJ whispered to Ned.

“No! Are you really gonna do that to y/n?” Ned fought with her with more whispers while you sat in the living room with your thoughts alone.

“It’s them or him, Ned.” She argued and looked back at the worrying images on the television. “He put me in charge of it for a reason. We haven’t heard from him in hours.”

“I just wish we could see Peter.” Ned raised his hands and sparks flew near you. Startled, you jumped back and looked over at two confused teens, deciding to join them. So he did it again, and this time a full-fledged portal opened and from afar, you saw Spider-Man. A Spider-Man more recognizable to you than anyone else.

“Peter?” You tilted your head and waited for him to come through the portal. And when he did, he was in for a big surprise. You.

“Y/N?” He ripped off his mask in disbelief and you smiled while his eyes glossed over and he ran into you for the biggest hug he’d ever given another soul. “Y/N. It’s really you. Oh, my god.” He sobbed and you held him tight. For you, it’d been a day. For him, it’d been a decade. And his guilt for your death had eaten him alive, so seeing you in the flesh had completely shook him to his core.

“How long?” You decided to check your brother’s timeline.

“Ten years. Ten horrible, horrible years. Oh, my god. I missed you. I’m so sorry, y/n. I’m sorry.” He gripped you tightly, letting it all out as the rest of the room spectated your reunion, Ned and MJ shedding a few tears. “This is another universe, huh?”

“It is.” You had spilled a few tears of your own, wiping them away as you pulled away and looked at your aged brother. “And a few of your old friends are here, too. Doctor Conners and Max Dillon.” You told him and his face dropped at the name of your killer, his bitterness flooding his body in that immediate moment. “He told me what he did.”

“Did he, now?” Peter balled his fists and you grabbed his arm to calm him. “He took you away from me, y/n. He took my sibling away from me. And then I lost Gwen…” He trailed off and your expression dropped.

“Gwen’s gone?” You mumbled and Peter nodded, choking back tears as he relived that fateful day. You slid your hand down to his own and grabbed it in solidarity.

“Harry, he dropped her from the top of a clocktower only an hour or two after you were gone. I tried to catch her, but…” You gulped, understanding the amount he lost in such a short period of time. It broke your heart that you couldn’t have been there for him, and that she wasn’t there for him. Just him and Aunt May. Oh, she must have been devastated at the news of both of your passings.

“Peter…” You whispered and hugged him once more. He needed your embrace, it had been missing from his life for too long. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” he grabbed you and looked you in the eye, “you have nothing to be sorry for. I failed you.” Peter just looked at you a minute and smiled. “I’m just so glad I get another chance to see you.”

“Pete, we were working on curing all the villains that ended up in this world, there’s a few from another universe that needed help, too. Thing is, they all died in their worlds.” You explained to him, knowing that’s something he’d absolutely approve of, despite the anger that festered deep within. “It’ll give them another chance, make sure that they don’t die in their final battles.”

“That’s…that’s great, okay. So where are they?” He asked.

“Well, about that…” Ned interjected and chuckled. “We can’t find our Peter. We have no idea what is going on.” Your brother turned to you, who had a very awkward smile on your face. “I can try again, though!” It wasn’t too much of a surprise when another Peter showed up. But this was no time for socializing, there were much more pressing matters.

Your brother didn’t want to let you out of his sight, that was his mistake all those years ago. And when you were helping him and the other Peter’s with these cures, he was the happiest he had been in a long time. Like not a day had passed.

“Peter, Peter, I have to talk to you.” You pulled him aside and he broke out of his joyous mood. “Hey, listen…I just, I don’t know if they can save me, okay? Don’t—Don’t get your hopes up.”

“What do you mean? Of course we can, we will.” Peter grasped your hands and you began to cry, knowing that you were inches from the end and if he lost you again, he’d be destroyed. “What? Why are you so worried?”

“Peter, I die before Max does.” You told him. “I’m already gone.”

“So we send you back with, uh, uh, with something to ground you. You know, so the shock travels through you? Or maybe another device that’ll absorb the energy.” Peter sparked some ideas for you, but you still weren’t convinced, just scared.

“What if that’s not how it works?” You replied and took a deep breath, looking back at the others working so hard to save the bad guys. “Peter, I need you to be prepared for the worst.”

“The worst has already happened, y/n.” Your brother hadn’t tired of hugging you yet, this was still a gift to him, seeing you. And the chance that he could right this wrong was all the more reason to keep working. “I’m gonna do everything I can to get you back, don’t worry. You deserve…” His voice cracked. “You deserve to live your life, okay? I’m gonna make sure you can.” He walked off to his station, shoving everything aside and working on your “cure.” You accepted his help and grabbed his work in progress devices, putting the finishing touches on Conners’ and even Max’s—with some hesitation.

The rest of the group paused a moment, seeing two siblings working in perfect unison with a common goal in mind. To them, it was a feat. To you, same old, same old. Nothing had changed, that was the same Peter you’d parted from despite the years that went by.

“I…think…I…got it!” Peter attached one more wire to his creation and presented it to you proudly. “This is it, y/n. This is gonna save you, okay? Just, just strap it on here,” he instructed, doing it himself as he put this harness over your arms and secured it behind your back, “and keep it on no matter what. Got it?” You nodded slowly, looking down to examine the device that would supposedly prevent your fate.

“Thanks, Peter.” You told him, still hesitant about the past and future of you.

“It’s gonna work, y/n. I swear.” Peter assured you and you avoided eye contact with him. It’s not that you didn’t trust him, but things never worked out right for you guys. Your parents, your uncle, the spider thing, Gwen’s dad, Gwen…and you.

“I know, I believe you.” You forced a smile and gave him a high five. “We did it, let’s do this!” You cheered and the lot of Spiders and friends joined in, hoping for success.

“Okay, we gotta go, but I’ll see you soon.” Your brother winked and you took a deep breath, trying not to start shaking before him. “Just stay here, you’ll be safe here.” You agreed and watched him leave, but just before he made it out the door, you yelled:

“Love you, Pete!” He turned back and waved to you with a huge, hopeful smile and tears in his eyes from what would be a true success.

“Love you more, y/n!” You laughed and let him go, taking a seat on one of the school science lab stools and started fidgeting with the sink handles, on and off and on and off.

“Are you okay?” MJ and Ned asked after staring at you for some time.

“Oh, yeah,” you scooted back from the distraction and leaned on the table instead, “just waiting for something to happen.”

“Oh, then watch this! I think I’ve got this magic thing down!” Ned turned to face the wall and lifted his hands, asking to find Peter Parker and actually managing to do it this time. You witnessed the exchange of the magic box and your stomach sank again. That thing and you were not on the same side. But you had to stop focusing on that once Ned was unable to close the portal and there was an open doorway from the battle straight to you.

“Close it!” You urgently shouted. “Ned!” You ran forward and looked out to the distant harbor past the Statue. All seemed alright for just a minute.

“So, you got a sibling?” Peter 2 asked your brother while they waited for trouble. “We were on our own, you’re lucky.”

“I am, aren’t I?” Peter 3 chuckled and looked down from this height. “Yeah, I wish I were lucky. I messed up, got them killed. I just really hope this works, I need some luck.” He explained to his variant and shrugged off his bad feelings. “But hey, I got to see y/n for the first time in ten years! How awesome is that?” Peter 2 rested his hand on your brother’s back.

“It’s gonna work, Peter. Wanna know why?” Your brother cocked his eyebrow, curious to his answer. “Because you made it. It’s what we do.”

“I guess you’re right.” He chuckled and let some of his anxieties go just in time for the villains to arrive. But this time, Peter knew you were safe. Far, far away from here.

“Ned, just close the damn portal!” You shouted while sounds of violence traveled to you. “Oh, my god, Ned, you’re gonna kill us all.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to close it, I’ve never had to!” He kept waving his hands back and forth.

“I know! I’m sorry, I’m not trying to yell at you, I’m just freaking out!” You shouted back and caught glimpse of your world’s villains. “Please, this is insane.”

“Ned, just tell it to close the portal!” MJ pitched in and gave advice already thought of. You all continued your bickering for some time until the worst happened, you were spotted by a Doctor Curtis Conners.

“Really, Conners? My dad and you go way back and you’re gonna try to kill me?” You argued with the creature while running for your life.

“You can thank your brother.” Lizard snarled and you booked it to the portal, probably the worst place you could have decided to go, but at least there were superheroes there. It was just the matter of avoiding the bad guys. Which you immediately failed at.

“Hey, y/n. long time, no see.” Max Dillon hovered before you with an evil grin as you stepped back. “Why don’t I put us back on track?”

“Peter!” You screamed for any one of them, needing someone to save the day.

“Not then and not now, kid.” He charged up and hit you dead on, flooding your device with electricity. You took it as best as you could before your brother swung your way, giving a swift kick in the face to dear ol’ Max before landing in front of you.

“Are you okay?” Peter ran up to you and looked down at the device. “Oh, no.”

“It’s toast.” You tapped on the front, singed from the blast. “All shorted out. But hey, it worked!”

“Y/N, go back to the lab and fix it. You have to fix it.” Peter instructed and your face dropped. “What’s the matter?”

“Conners destroyed the lab. Ned couldn’t close the portal and he found us.” You told your brother and all hope flushed from his face.

“Just—Just go back, okay? Try.” He told you, knowing it was a lost cause. You just snuck away and tried to make yourself as small a target as possible until the firefight was over. And when it was…

“Peter, hey, we tried, we did.” You assured him as Dr. Strange started his spells, defending this universe from impending doom.

“No, don’t talk like that, y/n. I can still fix it, give it to me.” Peter grabbed the device and opened it up to find completely shot wiring and a fried circut board.

“There’s no time.” You gently grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward one last time, gripping him tightly as he did the same and sobbed. “I love you, Peter. Thank you for trying.”

“I love you more. I’m so, so sorry. I should have never dragged you into this.” He cried into your shoulder and you gulped, choking back your tears for just a moment longer.

“This isn’t your fault, Peter. I made my choice. Please don’t blame yourself. Please keep on living for me.” You began to sob yourself as the others gave you looks of pity. All of the ones guilty of murder and destruction were going home with a new chance, but you were a teenager without a single sin who was being sentenced to death once again.

“Wait, wait, wait.” He desperately walked back and grabbed a large piece of metal, looking up at the repairing sky. “Hold this. Don’t let go, okay.” He handed it to you and you hesitantly accepted it, knowing that he was desperate. “Keep your feet together, too. I don’t know, maybe this can still work, just try it for me. If you can, connect that to another piece of metal and do not let go, I will find you. I did find you. It was just too late.” You heard the story of your death from another perspective and died on the inside, feeling more sorrow for your brother than yourself. Seeing that must have haunted him for years. You could see in his eyes, it still does.

“Okay. I’ll try.” You took a deep breath out and looked at all the friends you made along the way. “Thank you guys for everything, you really are amazing in every sense of the word.” You smiled through your hiccups and turned to your brother as you began to fade with your heavy piece of metal truss in hand. “Remember what I said, okay?” Peter frowned and nodded to you, and you soon reappeared right where you left off, bracing yourself for electrical impact.

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @johnmurphyisqueer // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck // @randomawesomeperson102 // @brutal-out-here // @wonderful-writer // @of-a-chaotic-mind // @resplendentlady // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @lxncelot // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @dindjarinsspouse // @werewolf-himbo // @lost-fantasy // @moobrvoobl-moobmoob-oobmpoobroom // @summersimmerus // @cipheress-to-k-pop // @augustvandyne // @spoodermans // @the-did-i-ask // @glxwingrxse // @scarthefangirl // @cyanide-mustard // @druigmybelovedone // @beth-gallagher22 // @bad4amficideas // @magnificentzombiebasement // @sheridans-dynamos // @seraphinevalentine // @mystic-writings //

481 notes · View notes

helnjk · 3 years

Text

All I’ve Ever Known - G.W.

George Weasley x fem!reader

last of my oneshots for my showtunes fic list, based on the song All I’ve Ever Known from the musical Hadestown! i’ve had so much fun with this series of fics, i hope you guys have enjoyed reading them xx

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: george finds her extremely intriguing, the way she spends her days drawing and creating art. maybe one day he’ll pluck up the courage to talk to her.

Warnings: mentions of food, mentions of bullying/exclusivity, stereotypical slytherin biases

lyrics are bold and italicized

–

I was alone so long

I didn’t even know that I was lonely

Y/N sat by herself at the end of the Slytherin table, pushing what was left of her meal around her plate. She could hear the different conversations flowing around her, the ones including her fellow housemates moreso, but as usual she wasn’t involved in any of them.

She could hear Malfoy sneering to his little crew about something or other that Potter did to irritate him that day. She could hear Adrian Pucey discussing the latest Quidditch plays they had used at training that day. She could hear a couple of first years anxiously discussing the topic of their exams the next day.

All around her were signs of companionship and community, yet she was left utterly alone. She wasn’t stupid. She knew why she had been outcasted from her house the moment she got sorted.

“Isn’t she muggleborn?”

“What a disgrace to Slytherin.”

“The Sorting Hat’s made a mistake with that one.”

Over the years, she had gotten used to how those in her house treated her–holding her at arm’s length. She had spent many nights in her first year crying herself to sleep because of how all-consuming the loneliness had been, but now at her seventh year, she was numb to it all.

She knew who she was: A talented muggleborn witch and a proud Slytherin. She didn’t need validation from anyone else. And anyways, most of her time was spent out on the grounds with her sketchpad or in the Room of Requirement painting.

Loud laughs from the Gryffindor table spurred her out of her thoughts. The Weasley twins had pranked their younger brother, and it seemed like their younger sister was an accomplice to the crime as well. The rest of the red and gold house was watching on amusedly, no doubt accustomed to similar situations.

The Weasleys were a well known family at Hogwarts. How could they not be? With their fiery red hair and their big personalities, it was a given that they caught the attention of almost every student.

Y/N admired how they just fit right in with their house, their second family. Of course, a lot of it had to do with the fact that they were so comfortable with the Hat’s placement. Their whole family was sorted into Gryffindor, she could remember, albeit slightly foggily, the older Weasley siblings in leadership roles when she was younger.

Her eyes lingered on George’s laughing figure for a second longer than the rest of them. She was always intrigued by the younger twin. They seldom had classes together, but from what she could gather, he was just as observant and perceptive as he was mischievous and quick witted.

As bodies began to take their leave from the Great Hall, a rough shove to the shoulder nearly made Y/N fall onto the floor. Her eyes snapped up to the offender and she saw the unbecoming sneer of Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle were snickering not so quietly behind him as he stared down at her.

“Whoops,” he jeered, “Sorry to disrupt your staring at the blood traitors and gryffindorks. Maybe you’d be better off with the lot of them.”

With a huff, Y/N gathered her things and strode out of the hall without so much as a second look behind her.

It's like I’d known you all along

I knew you before we met

And I don’t even know you yet

All I know is you're someone I have always known

She was drawing again, George noted.

It always baffled him how she was always alone. Usually students at Hogwarts drifted about their days in groups or pairs; it was rare to see someone spend most of their time by themselves. Growing up with 6 siblings, and having a twin, George was so used to the chaos and noise that came with it that he couldn’t picture what it was like to go about your day solo.

His eyes drifted towards her figure sitting on a blanket out in the grounds. She was blissfully unaware of her surroundings, or more to the point, the person staring at her like a bloody idiot. The weather was slowly transitioning from autumn into winter, and he could tell that she was trying to milk the last few warm days.

It was no secret to him that she preferred to sketch out in the sunny grounds, but Hogwarts being situated in the Scottish countryside made it so that her window of opportunity to do so was limited.

He was so focused on how her brows furrowed in concentration and how her lips pursed ever so slightly when she made a mistake, that he didn’t notice Fred’s many deep sighs. This caused his twin to take one final deep breath and exhale as loudly as possible.

“What’s got your wand in a knot then?” George asked, taking his eyes off of Y/N and turning to face his brother.

“Finally noticed that I exist, have you?” teased Fred.

“Oi, just get on with whatever you want to say!”

He merely laughed, “If you want to talk to the snake, just do it!”

George had the audacity to act as if he didn’t know what Fred meant, “What in Merlin’s name are you on about?”

“Don’t be daft,” Fred smacked him lightly on the back of the head, “You’ve been pining after that Slytherin bird for months, just go and talk to her already!”

“Was I that obvious?”

With a frustrated groan, Fred shoved his twin in the direction of the girl. George stumbled for a second and checked to see if she had seen, she hadn’t. He sent a glare at the redhead over his shoulder, before dusting off his trousers and donning a confident facade.

As he strode across the courtyard, his hands grew increasingly clammy and his heart began to beat erratically in his chest. There was no turning back now, though, as he approached the girl.

His shadow blocked the sun from Y/N’s notebook and she looked up, not expecting anyone to get so close to her.

“Erm, hello,” George waved awkwardly as he towered over her figure.

She blinked a few times before replying, “Hello. Can I help you with something?”

“Mind if I join you?”

George’s question rang through the still air for a moment as Y/N processed what he had just asked. No one had ever wanted to keep her company as she drew before, she wasn’t quite sure how to react. Just before the moment turned even more awkward than it already was, she gave him a swift nod.

The tall, lanky redhead folded his legs beneath him as he made himself comfortable on the path of grass next to her. He had to stop himself from grinning too wide, “I’ve seen you around, you know.”

She merely raised a confused eyebrow in his direction.

“Not-not like I’ve been stalking you!” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck and feeling his ears turn hot, “I’ve just noticed you like to draw out here, especially when the weather’s warm.”

“Oh,” she mumbled, brushing her hair behind her ear.

“I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?”

George’s gaze on hers was so sincere, she kicked herself internally for not saying the right thing to him, “No you’re not! Don’t worry. I’m just not used to people paying much attention to what I do. I mean, I’m not that interesting.”

She felt small under his analytic gaze, but something in her kept her from looking away.

“Well I think you’re plenty interesting from what I’ve seen,” He shrugged nonchalantly, “Tell me about your drawings!”

He had said the magic words and the pair of them dove into a conversation. Y/N couldn’t contain her excitement, as she rarely had the opportunity to speak about something she was so passionate about.

“These look bloody brilliant,” George murmured in awe as he flipped through the pages of her notebook.

Y/N’s face warmed at the compliment, “Thanks.”

All I’ve ever known is how to hold my own

But now I wanna hold you too

For nearly every day after their first encounter, George made it a point to talk to Y/N. Whether it be along the hallways on the way to class, during meals (he would take her hand and drag her to the Gryffindor tables, much to her bemusement), or out on the grounds while she drew.

Most of the time, he would talk and talk and talk as she listened quietly. A soft smile would always grace her lips as she observed him and how he spoke so highly of his family and how he was so excited for the shop he would be opening with his brother. The tone of his voice and his large grins always made her feel included in whatever it was that he talked about.

“Hello love,” George smiled down at her before plopping down on the soft grass to her right, “Reckon we’re on the last few days of good weather.”

His eyes raised skywards as the overcast clouds floated above them, hers did the same.

“It’s alright,” she shrugged, sending him a small smile, “We’ve made the most of it, I think.”

The pair sat in relative silence, as silent as it could be with one of the Weasley twins, as Y/N built up the courage to show George what she had made for him. With a deep breath, she plucked something from her school bag that lay strewn across the grass and held the parchment to her chest.

“George?”

“Yeah, Y/N?” his eyes trained on her nervous figure and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Everything alright?”

She nodded her head swiftly, “Yeah everything’s perfect! I just wanted to show you something that I made.”

Slowly, she smoothed out the parchment in front of them. She observed George quietly as he took in the sketch she had made. His eyes scanned it over once, twice, three times before they met hers again.

“Is this…” He mumbled, taking the sketch into his hands to look closer.

“You’ve just been so excited about your joke shop that I–I made a logo for you guys,” she smiled sheepishly, “It’s pretty bare bones, but I wanted you to see it. I won’t take offence if you don’t like it!”

George stared at her, mouth slightly agape. This was one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for him, and she did it out of the kindness of her heart. Without a second thought, he threw his arms around her and quickly pulled her to his chest. Y/N let out a little ‘oof’ as she collided with him, heat spreading throughout her body. She was thankful that she was basically smushed on his chest, at least then he couldn’t tell how flustered she got at his display of affection.

“So d’you like it?” she asked shyly, looking up at him.

“I bloody love it!”

Y/N let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding, the pair of them grinning at each other.

Later in the day, George all but dragged Y/N into the Gryffindor common room in search of Fred. His brother was sat on one of the couches by the fireplace, chatting idly with Lee. The sound of parchment hitting him square in the chest rang through the relatively empty room.

Fred’s hands immediately held onto whatever George had placed on him, and his eyes lit with joy as he realized what he was looking at.

“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed, “Is this what I think it is?”

George took a seat next to his brother, his hand tugging Y/N along to take the seat beside him, “Yep. Our Y/N here has made us a logo for Wheezes.”

“This is brilliant, Y/N! Thank you!”

For the second time that day, she found herself wrapped up in the arms of a Weasley twin. Slightly used to it, she just laughed the show of affection off and patted Fred slightly on the back.

“Happy to help,” she smiled.

–

As the seasons turned from autumn to winter, Y/N found herself spending more and more time with the red headed twins. She found their enthusiasm for their joke shop infectious, always chipping in with ideas of her own for products, or sketching up prototypes for them to look at.

Slowly, her days were filled with laughter and warmth.

It was a little jarring at first, spending so much time with people who actually cared about her, people who wanted to hear what she said and see what she created. It surprised her, really, how quickly she had become accustomed to being around them.

After a while, though, she found herself wanting to spend as much time as possible with George. She lived for the routine that they had formed, spending most of their breaks and meals together.

It struck her on a seemingly ordinary day, the realization that she was falling for him.

Y/N and George were at a far corner in the library, discussing how the product designs she made could be tweaked a little. He was hunched over the parchment, tracing his fingers over the soft lines of charcoal on the parchment, smudging it just a tad bit and getting some of the pigment on him.

“I love the way you drew…”

George had said something or other about the design, but Y/N couldn’t focus on anything except the way his arm flexed as he spoke. From the corner of her eye, she kept glancing at him, noticing how the glow of candlelight cast soft shadows on his face. The freckles on his cheeks seemed to dance in the flickering light, and looking at the constellations on his face made her breath hitch in her throat.

She couldn’t quite place why her heart was raging in her chest, as if she hadn’t spent most of her days with the red headed boy anyway.

And then it hit her.

Her eyebrows shot up at the sudden awareness of her feelings for George. Oh sweet Merlin and Morgana, she thought.

You take me in your arms

And suddenly there’s sunlight all around me

“George!”

Y/N’s voice rang through the relatively empty hallway as she raced to meet her friend. The friend that she might have been in love with. The friend that she spent hours and hours of her day with, trying to ignore the bubble of feelings that wanted so badly to burst in her chest.

The redhead who was on his way back up to his common room paused mid-step as he heard her voice. He spun on his heel, turning just in time for him to see her barreling towards him, waving a piece of parchment above her head.

When she nearly collided head on with him, he instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist and steadied her, “Woah there, Y/N. There’s no need to try and kill me.”

She huffed, catching her breath slightly, “Sorry, I’m just so excited!”

“Are you going to tell me what you’re excited about, or?” he teased, cocking his head to the side.

With a grin on her face, she shoved the piece of parchment she was holding into George’s hands, “I just figured out how the general design of the Wonder Witch products should look like! See here there’s a–”

“Godric I love you.”

Both bodies froze at the statement. George immediately felt his whole body get hot, no doubt tinging his cheeks and the tips of his ears red. Y/N’s mouth was slightly agape, her mind whirring with all kinds of thoughts as she tried to comprehend what had just come out of George’s mouth.

“What?” she asked, unable to form a proper sentence.

George took a deep breath, there was no going back now, “Erm, yeah. I fancy the hell out of you, Y/N. That wasn’t the way I would’ve preferred to tell you but, I do–I do love you, yeah.”

“Oh, Georgie,” Y/N whispered.

Taking her answer as a rejection, he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s alright that you don’t feel the same way, I don’t want this to ruin–”

Instead of replying, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him in a hug, “I love you too, you silly boy.”

The nerves got the better of her, and her words were slightly muffled as she whispered them into his chest.

“Come again?”

“I love you too, George!”

A wide grin spread across his face as he looked at the girl in his arms. He felt like he could fly with how happy he was. Everything he needed was right in front of him, and he would hold her close for as long as he could.

–

General taglist: @expectoevans @george-fabian-weasley @gxthsanrio @slytherinscribbles @harpyloon @nuttytani @mesmerisedangel @amourtentiaa @hufflepuff5972

Weasley twins taglist: @whizboingies @pineapplesandpinas @papapapadumb @mrs-g-weasley @a-castle-of--glass @hey-there-angels

#kai's showtunes fics #george weasley #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagines #george weasley imagine #george weasley fics #george weasley fic #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #tw food mention #tw bullying

435 notes · View notes