Okay, but the way Buck and Eddie's Crockett and Tubbs antics threw me back to the couch pizza incident in 2x06, though.
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I know a lot of people hc that Curt can't cook but I present you with my evidence on why he's the best cook out of every saf character:
Mrs. Mega raised him as a single mother during the great depression. That I'm pretty sure is canon.
This would mean she had to work a lot to keep them afloat
Which would lead to Curt having to be alone a lot as a kid
He tried to cook home alone, but nearly set the kitchen on fire multiple times
Mrs. Mega banned him from the kitchen and also couldn't teach him to cook, because she didn't have the time nor is she the best cook herself
Curt not liking being told to not do something started cooking a lot, both for himself and his mom
Over time he got good, like really good
(He started baking too although he wasn't as successful in that)
It went from cooking just to eat warm food everyday to a sort of thank you for his mom for doing so much
All in all he was quite the problem child getting bad grades, getting into fights etc so this was one of the few ways he felt he could make it up to her
Anytime Mrs. Mega saw her favourite food on the table when she got home she knew Curt fucked up big time
It became a sort of tradition for him to apologize by making dinner, even if he never gave a verbal apology or fully admitted to doing something wrong
this tradition carried over to his other relationships and other occasions
He makes dinner every time him and Owen can visit each other in their homes, He cooks soup every time someone he loves is sick, on missions where he can't make full meals he'll still find the time to make tea or coffee for Owen (He once tried to give Cynthia cookies. She nearly killed him, because she doesn't trust any food or drinks made by anyone but her... or Susan)
Anyways yeah I'm very passionate about this headcanon. This man will literally do anything but say how he feels
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Litterally how I imagine this scene tbh
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🪐 Imogen & Bix (sw)
🐺 Nadya & Jayde (original works)
🏍️ Vaune & Panam (cp2077)
⚔️ Yrsa & Kåre (skyrim)
Tagged by @jendoe @phillipsgraves @shadowglens @chuckhansen @marivenah and @risingsh0t to make my ships with this picrew thank you guys so much!!! 💕💕💕
Tagging: @corvosattano @jackiesarch @indorilnerevarine @roofgeese @florbelles @shellibisshe @unholymilf @rhetoricalrogue + anyone else I missed/hasn’t done it yet!
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TLDR at the bottom, as I know this became very long. My apologies.
I would really like to clarify first that I am not arguing with you or attempting to make you like her and am just attempting to explain my stance since you seemed confused about specifically this: as someone who is very solidly for mage rights in the Dragon Age games and also really likes Vivienne, I do think you overestimate how many fans she has? Which is completely understandable as fandom has cooled a little bit in the last few years, which means there’s less discourse posts floating around, but it used to be that if I found Vivienne content it was vitriolic towards her—she has a canonical Ao3 tag labeled “Vivienne (Dragon Age) Is A Bitch” for example.
We’re not prone to criticizing her character on the regular because she already gets a lot of it, on about the same level as Anders (whom I also am very fond of) and most of it has already been said before.
For examples though, her arguments about mages are genuinely infuriating and make little sense.
She is fantastically racist in the game, which is also very frustrating, though to be fair to her, I’m having trouble thinking of a companion who isn’t at some point or another without ability to correct them (Dorian supporting slavery and his “elven harpy” comment towards, Cole’s “Never trust half an elf” comment which is bad regardless of if they were intending it to be about Michel, Solas and Sera’s everything unfortunately, etc. all come to mind.) Maybe Bull, Leliana, or Josie? I can’t remember them being so off the top of my head.
These things do suck and most Vivienne fans (except for a few, but typically fans who support the fantasy Catholic Church aren’t going to be the type of fans who will bother caring about a Black woman—they’ll usually go for Cullen, the white straight man who is anti-mage and who the narrative actually cares about) are very aware of her flaws, but generally we think it was a very stupid idea to have the first Black companion (that they will actually admit to being Black anyway, unlike Isabela who got whitewashed and Morrigan and Cole, who never really have the fact that they are mixed Black acknowledged or shown in the games) support the oppressive system and use her as a mouthpiece for a conservative agenda.
(Using characters as a mouthpiece for whatever agenda the devs are trying to push with little regard to their actual characters is a very common thing in Inqusition—ex. at one point they have Cole say Cullen was a “good Templar who remembered the mages are people” when Cullen literally has a line in 2 saying “Mages aren’t people like you and me.” which is a direct quote from him, and even though Cole should by all rights be terrified by Cullen. Also, all of Varric’s Inquisition characterization.)
I mean, her companion quest is just there to have you distrust her briefly (the quest is named after a classic villain line and the youth potion paper) before “surprising” the player with the the fact that she… has layers? Cares about someone? Which is so… incredibly stupid on the Dev’s parts for a variety of reasons that if I talk about now I will start getting genuinely angry over.
I also think she has some very redeeming qualities. I personally found that she was very compassionate towards an Inquisitor she was friends with. It doesn’t stop her from being opportunistic, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing necessarily. I think this bit specifically is probably something we won’t agree on however, since we have very different readings on these moments, so I’m going keep it at that.
None of this is meant to convince you to like her at all, but I wanted to explain my perspective in doing so since you seemed confused about it.
TLDR: I, and many other pro-mage Vivienne fans, are aware of her flaws, but we think that was a terrible writing decision and do see several redeemable qualities in her character. None of this is meant to sway you in your dislike of her, but I wanted to explain my perspective since you said you didn’t understand how someone could like Vivienne and be pro-mage.
(P.S. I am very sorry if any of this comes off as condescending or if this was completely unwelcome. I’m autistic and have a hard time with tone, both reading it and delivering it. I’m working on it, but I’m still not good at tone over text.)
I. I understand all of this. I’ve criticized the fact they made the first black companion a huge bitch and a bigot against her own kind from the second it became clear that was her personality? But her being the first black companion also doesn’t innately make her a good character. Being a minority doesn’t make what a character does automatically ok or less bad, and idealization is dehumanization as much as villainizing is. It makes BioWare’s writers and their decisions gross, and their agenda gross, any anyone who uses her sucking as an excuse to be racist or disproportionately hateful to only the black companion horrible, but it at the same time doesn’t just…make her good, or ok.
She’s written stupidly, but the character they made is a bigot given no real character growth who tries to ruin the advances for mage rights even if you put forth the best possible outcomes (Lelianna Divine, allied Mages) and befriended Vivienne. She straight sucks. She does. She is a bad, selfish, emotionally manipulative person with no empathy for those of her kind less privileged than her, and a species traitor. (Or whatever? Can’t think of a better thing to categorize Mages as. Class??) It’s not like I only complain about her. I’ve been just as liberal complaining about Doriana and Sera and every other fucked up choice the Devs made. If you’ve seen anything I posted the past week, you’ve probably seen me having a meltdown over how utterly unsalvagable Inquisition is as a game. As for Viv herself, she’s not devoid of good qualities. She’ll be nice if she’s your friend, you’re right, but you have to be kind of terrible to befriend her at all, and so? So is everyone on the planet. That’s what fair weather friends /are/. But beyond that, yeah. She’s not all evil. She cared about the guy she was mistress to. She’s not a monster. But she high key is a terrible person and sucks. You’re right, the devs making her quest a quote from the Queen from Snow White of all things, to encourage a player to lie to her, is fucked up. So is literally everything they did to her. So is how they treated Bull, and Dorian, and Sera, and all kinds of things. But that doesn’t make the character good.
From your own description, you don’t actually like canon Vivienne. You like the HC version you rewrote in your head. And that’s fair, and it’s a fair way to say fuck you to the devs—I do the same with Solas. But you’ll never see me not absolutely accusing the shit out of canon end game Trespasser Solas—he’s a racial supremacist genocide intellectual dude bro, which is a horrific choice for the devs to make esp considering his preTrespasser characterization, but that’s still what he was. I can ignore that and make my HCs, but I’m not going to pretend canon wasn’t what it is. It was. And I wasn’t complaining I see alternate takes on Vivienne, but that I see people talk about Canon Viv like she’s a girlboss while claiming to be pro mage, and those things just concretely do not and cannot go together. And that complaint absolutely stands. It’s cool and even good to hc and rewrite her as a different person. But that’s not canon Viv anymore then, it’s an OC that should have been in the game.
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i think the first movie i remember my mom very nearly forcing me to watch was shakespeare in love, which like when she told me i should see it i was like "isn't it rated R" because i was in 8th grade and she was like "yeah but i mean there's like one sex scene kind of but mostly you just see him undressing her and that's it so like, that's fine right?" and i was like, sure i guess
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A little couple's trivia with Nanami proves that he knows you all too well.
I did use the term wife and she/her pronouns just as a brief cw. The whole thing is just fluff. Nanami is in love with you. That's the whole things.
(I am delulu and in love with this man. Hope this helps us all heal. He is alive and well and no one can convince me otherwise. Also I love including Gojo's dumbass in everything. Also Yuji is a sweetheart and Nanami's son basically.)
"Please?" You're practically begging your husband, who doesn't seem to be budging.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Yeah Nanamin-"
"Don't call me that." Nanami cuts Gojo off immediately.
"But Yuji calls you that!"
"That's different." He glares at the white haired man like he's trying to eviscerate him with just his eyes. "And I'm not playing some stupid game just to prove how well I know my wife." He tries to pay attention to the paperwork in front of him again, wanting to finish it before 5pm. Because there was no way he was working overtime again today.
"Scared?" Gojo baited him. "Afraid I'm gonna ask you a question that's just too hard?"
"Gojo, there is nothing you could ask me about my wife that I wouldn't be able to answer."
A few of the students sat around watching the two go back and forth, inevitably waiting for Nanami to either get so annoyed that he walked away, or to take the bait. They hoped for the latter.
"Prove it! Or you forfeit your marriage."
"That's not how that works."
"C'mon Nanamin, it's just a game." Yuji gives the blonde sorcerer a sincere smile, hoping to lighten the mood and sway his decision just a bit.
"Don't call him Nanamin, Yuji- OW." Gojo is cut off as Nanami reaches over and smacks him in the head with the papers in his hand.
"Don't tell him what to do." Nanami sighs and rubs at his temple. He looks at the clock, then at you. It's the look in your eyes that gives way to his final decision. "Fine. You have until that clock reads 5, and then I'm taking my wife and we're going home."
Gojo wastes no time. "Who is your wife's favorite person? And think before you say yourself because-"
"Itadori. Next question."
"I'm your favorite person?!" Yuji jumps from his seat, latching his arms around you for a hug. It's obvious from the way that you smile and hug him back that Nanami is probably definitely right. You had a soft spot for the kid since you met him, playfully telling everyone that you and Nanami had basically adopted him since he arrived at Jujutsu High. Nanami would probably never verbalize it, but you could tell he felt the same about the boy.
"Ok, ok. Next question." Gojo thought hard before coming up with it. "How does your wife take her coffee?"
"She doesn't drink coffee."
"Yes she does, I bring her some like every morning."
"And she gives that coffee to me because she doesn't like it."
"You're telling me I've been buying you coffee this entire time?"
"I make her tea every morning when we get to work. You hand her the coffee, we trade cups. I don't understand how you've stared right at us when we do it and you somehow haven't noticed."
"Ok, then what tea does she drink?"
"Earl Grey, three sugars, a little bit of milk at the top. She'll say she's ok with English Breakfast or Lady Earl Grey if they're out of the regular. She's not, she's just being polite. She'll drink half and throw it away when she thinks no one is looking."
Gojo groans, not having as much fun as he thought he was going to at the beginning of all of this. "And I just bet you have a contingency plan for when your wife doesn't get her tea, don't you?"
"Of course I do," he ignores the even louder groan from Gojo, "I walk across the street to the cafe that sells her favorite pastries and I buy her five because I know that she'll want to share with her students and she'll try to split one with me even if I refuse. They have teabags they leave out so long as you're ordering something. Earl Grey, always in stock."
"Adorable." Gojo rolls his eyes.
"You're so smart, Nanamin!" Yuji jumps in. "Let me ask one! What's her favorite color?"
"Yuji, that's too easy."
"Yellow."
"Ohhhh, mine too," Yuji says, "why yellow?"
"Because it's-" Nanami stops mid-sentence and looks at the clock, like it will give him an excuse. Almost. "We don't need to worry about the why, that wasn't the original question."
Gojo perks up, clearly realizing he'd struck a nerve. And he was ready to work it. The red dusting across Nanami's cheeks told him everything he needed to know. "Are you embarrassed, Nanami?"
"Shut up, Gojo."
"Or do you just not know the answer? It's ok if you don't, I guess you just don't know your wife as well as you thought you did."
"If you don't stop talking, I'm going to tell everyone about the one time in high school when you and Geto got caught in the-"
"OK!" Gojo turns back to the students and motions them toward the door. "Time to go! Don't you all have something better to do? Go be little trouble makers somewhere. Go TP Yaga's lawn or something. Get out of here."
He'd ushered everyone out except Yuji, who stayed behind to wait for you and Nanami. The boy shyly looked away as you kissed Nanami's cheek before standing up, stating you just needed to grab your bag before you could leave.
Yuji waited for you to exit the room before he asked. "Is it because of your hair?"
Nanami sighs. "What makes you think that?"
Yuji just shrugs. "She loves you. Answers don't always need a complex reason."
Nanami can't help the smile that graces his face. "You're a smart kid sometimes, you know that?"
"That's why I'm her favorite!" His goofy nature is back in an instant. "Can I come over for dinner again tonight?"
"Of course you can."
"Can I stay over?"
"If you'd like to."
"Can I pick the movie we watch?"
"Don't push your luck."
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just saw roman polanski’s wife claiming that her husband didn’t “had” to rape anyone “because all the women wanted him, even young ones” and I know I’m supposed to support other women and all of that but I’m gonna be honest, I hope this one die a slow and painful death tbh
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could you do one where chris and reader bring their daughter home from the hospital after she's just born? i love your writings!!!!
My Girl, C. Sturniolo
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Summary: In which bringing your and Chris's first baby home from the hospital results in a core memory<3
Pairing: Chris x feminine reader
Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of a difficult labor and its effects (not graphic!), young parents
Word Count: 974
A/N: Y'all my baby fever has been so bad lately (I'm 19 and single 🤡) and dad!Chris did NOT help. Thank you for the request and you cuties enjoy a fluffy Chris fic<33
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Chris gently lifted the enormous, pink carseat out of the back of the car, hoisting it onto his arm. He was beyond exhausted from the past three days. Granted, all he had ever wanted in life was to be a father, especially when you would be the mother. And so, he picked up the car seat with renewed energy, coming around the side of the car and opening up your door.
“You good, ma?” he asked you, protective instincts kicking in as he watched you struggle to unbuckle your seat and step out of the car.
“I just had a baby, dumbass. My hips are killing me and I’m wearing a diaper. What do you think the answer is?”
Between a long labor, the hustle and bustle of the hospital, and the typical aches and pains that came post-birth, you were a bit snappy after the events of the past three days. Nevertheless though, you planted a kiss on Chris’s cheek, eliciting a grin from your husband.
“Glad to see the pregnancy didn’t take that fiery attitude I love so much.” Chris smiled, wrapping his arm around you to support you as you slowly walked with one hand and carrying the carseat that held your sleeping daughter in the other.
You two slowly began the trek up your front steps, with Chris supporting you the whole way. But before you could open the front door, it was flung open for you, revealing Nick and Matt. They stepped out quickly, eager to get a glimpse of their new niece. They exchanged squeals over how cute your baby girl was until Chris finally shoved them off, protective over his little family.
“Can we get inside first?” he asked, rolling his eyes then smiling at you affectionately.
The brothers allowed you to step inside the house, where both your and Chris’s parents were waiting, slightly more polite than his brothers. You quickly sat down on the couch with the help of your husband, winded from the short walk up the driveway. Chris quickly placed your daughter in your arms and sat beside you with a proud smile as everyone else gathered around on your large couch and on the rug.
“So, have you two decided on a name?” Your mother asked excitedly, her eyes shining with joy.
“We have,” You and Chris looked at each other and smiled as your daughter yawned in your arms, smacking her little lips. “Charlotte Marie Sturniolo.” You said in unison.
Just as you spoke, Charlotte opened her eyes and yawned, letting out a tiny coo. Luckily, your families had been very respectful of your and Chris’s boundaries about holding her, especially since flu season was currently rampant. That didn’t deter anyone from letting out noises of affection at their new daughter, niece, and granddaughter, though. In your comical families, however, cute moments didn’t last long, which led to Nick piping up.
“Can you say Lady Gaga?” he asked. “La-dy Ga-ga.”
Chris rolled his eyes, playfully kicking his brother, which received a giggle from you. “She’s a newborn.”
“I’m raising her to have culture.” Nick shrugged, flipping his hair across his forehead.
As everyone continued to talk, your husband noted how you (and Charlotte) had become more quiet, snuggling into his side. He knew the whole birthing process had been extremely difficult on you, and selfishly, he really wanted some alone time with his little family.
“Should we go upstairs?” he asked you, whispering in your ear and brushing a strand of hair away from your cheek.
You nodded softly, already on the verge of falling asleep as you felt your infant daughter snuggle into you. “Yes please.” You whispered back.
“Well, we would love to keep chatting, but duty calls,” Chris helped you stand up, adjusting Charlotte so she could still cuddle onto your chest. “My girls need me.”
By the time you two had made it upstairs, you were exhausted, but could still hear the talking of your family below, murmuring softly about what great parents you two already were. Granted, it had only been a few days, but in your opinion, you both already were. Despite being on the younger side, you and Chris both loved your daughter with your whole heart, and that was what you wanted the most.
“Thanks for what you did back there,” You yawned as Chris tucked you into bed after placing Charlotte, who was fast asleep, in her crib. “I’m really tired.”
“I could tell,” Your husband bustled around the room, straightening things up to lessen the load on your plate. “You’re so strong, baby.”
You were almost asleep, but you could sense that Chris had stopped moving, which with your husband, meant he was up to something. “Chris? Baby, what are you doing?”
You peeked open your eyes, only for your heart to practically burst. Chris had taken his shirt off and removed your daughter’s onesie, allowing her to cuddle skin-to-skin on his chest. He smiled over at you as she yawned, fisting his skin.
“Look!” he whisper-shouted with the biggest smile on his face. “We’re cuddling!”
You smiled, enjoying the scene before you. “She looks so cozy.”
Chris began to sway and dance softly, singing ‘My Girl’ by The Temptations quietly. “My baby girl. God, I love you so much. You and your mommy are my rock, honey.”
You could hear the happy tears in your husband’s voice as he sang to Charlotte, and that was the moment you knew that you had made the right choice for the father of your children. Chris had been nothing but supportive throughout your whole pregnancy and labor, and it was clear he was carrying that energy into fatherhood as well. You took a mental snapshot, filing away this moment for later because you knew this would always be one you came back to.
tags ♡: @aemrsy @idek3000hi @melguilbert @oobleoob
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Stranger in a Bar - Part One
A DBF!Joel Fic
You meet a stranger in a bar, one who is fun and sexy and makes you wonder if the single life is all it's cracked up to be. But there's one big problem: you probably shouldn't be fucking your dad's best friend.
Pairing: DBF!Joel Miller x Female Reader
Warnings: This is smut, OK? Just a lot of smut. Protected P in V sex. Oral sex (m and f receiving). Age gap of 20 years. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.
Length: 6.8k
A/N: So this was supposed to be a one shot and then it started getting out of hand. It's going to just be two parts for the moment, this is going to be a very little baby fic, OK? Small. Lil baby story. Also. there's a hefty age gap and it comes up because logistics but no power imbalance. Thanks for always putting up with my shit, y'all are the best ❤️
Bar None, Present day
One of your friends had just put Single Ladies on the jukebox when you saw him across the bar. Bar None, the place you’d picked for the night, had one of those stupid app-powered ones and the three girls you had kept in touch with from high school had been abusing it all night long. But the man across the bar was so distracting that you hardly noticed. His eyes were locked on you, so tight and hot that it would send a chill up your spine if it was from the wrong set of eyes. But they were his eyes. Dark and molten and set into a sculpted face with patchy scruff and shaggy curl streaked with gray.
No, you thought, he couldn’t spark anything but desire.
“We should do the dance!” Your friend Emily slurred, tugging your arm. “C’mon! Now that you’re a single lady again, you have to own it.”
She flashed her empty ring finger as Beyonce sang, a cocky - if half drunk - look on her face as she did.
You smiled at her.
“He did put a ring on it,” you twisted the stem of your martini glass. “That’s why there was a problem when he put his dick in someone else. I think I’ll pass on the Beyonce. But thank you.”
“Come on drunky,” your friend Dana looped her arm around Emily’s waist. “Let’s go dance.”
“Woooo!” Emily threw her arms in the air and Dana gave you an exasperated but happy smile over her shoulder as she guided her to the dance floor.
“Jesus, is it that late?” Parker looked at her Apple watch. You half smiled and took a small sip of your drink as she rifled through her clutch for her phone and let out a relieved sigh. “Thank God, Kevin hasn’t been texting with a ton of stupid questions. Why did I think letting a baby get totally attached to me was a good idea? The fact that she only said mama for two weeks was great at first but now that she refuses to do bedtime without me, I’m having regrets…”
“Do you need to go?” You asked, brows raised.
She winced.
“Would you hate me if I left you with the party animals?”
You laughed.
“No,” you said. “Go home, see your husband and kid. I really do appreciate the warm welcome back, you have no idea.”
“See?” She reached across the small table and gave your arm a squeeze. “I told you, just like old times.”
“Did you go back home at 10:30 to make sure a baby was properly put to bed when we were 18?” You teased. “I forgot that part…”
She rolled her eyes.
“Almost old times,” she said. “Besides, you love Bella.”
“I do love Bella,” you said. “And I love you. Go home, I’m good.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. Text me when you get there?”
“Of course,” she slipped off the bar stool and came around to give you a hug and kiss your cheek. “I really am glad you’re back. Even if it’s because Reid was a dumbass.”
You just smiled a little and watched her leave, Parker pausing to wave to Dana on her way out the door.
“This seat open?”
The man from across the bar stood beside you, nodding to the seat Parker had just vacated. You smiled a little and nodded once.
“You have very convenient timing.”
“Well,” he shrugged. “Leaving a pretty girl all alone at the bar seems like a crime. Trying my damndest to stay on the right side of the law.”
“And how’s that going for you these days?”
He smirked a little. His cheek dimpled.
“Well enough.”
You looked at him, tracing the creases in his face with your eyes, the streaks of gray catching the low light of the bar. He was probably the oldest man there but damn, did he wear it well.
“You in town for a visit?” He asked, turning his beer bottle in his fingers and nodding to your friends on the dance floor. “Seeing friends?”
You cocked a little smile at him.
“No, actually. Just moved back.”
He raised his eyebrows, a look you couldn’t quite place passing over his warm features. His eyes drifted to your ring finger before he seemed to catch himself and look back at your face. You saved him the trouble, lifting your bare left hand and turning it so he could see. The indentation from your three carat engagement ring was still on your finger but your hand was empty.
“I think we should talk, Joel.”
Bar None, 10 years earlier
The man across the bar had no damn business being that good looking.
It was almost pissing you off how good looking he was. Tall, broad, with golden skin and thick, dark hair, he had the kind of face you wanted to explore intimately, in the way you could only do when someone was inside of you. The way men couldn’t control their expressions then was almost addicting. The way their eyes would roll back and their mouths would fall open, the way they stopped fucking around with pretense and just let themselves feel something - even if it was just your cunt - was beautiful and fascinating and almost elemental. It was like you could look into the very core of them for a moment, the way they always seemed to be able to look into you with just a glance. You wanted that with this man, whoever he was, this man who you caught glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.
“Aww,” Parker pouted happily at her phone. “Kevin misses me!”
“Misses you?” Emily snatched the phone from her grasp, gaping at the screen. “You’ve been gone like two hours!”
“Will you just…” Parker snatched the phone back and looked at the text again. “And I think it’s sweet.”
“You’re ditching us, aren’t you?” Emily sighed.
“I think so,” Parker winced. “Is that OK?”
You just smiled a little.
“Go see the guy who’s got you all crazy,” you said. “But I’ll see you again before I leave town, yeah?”
“Course!” She came and gave you a hug. “Good luck getting rid of me. Have fun at that thing tomorrow!”
“Yeah,” you laughed. “I’ll try.”
Emily rolled her eyes and judged Parker for a bit but it was less than an hour before she was leaving, too, with a man who’d asked her to dance and bought her a beer.
“You sure you’re alright?” She asked as she went to leave.
“Babes, I know how to be at a bar on my own. And my hotel is two doors down. I think I can figure it out.”
She kissed your cheek.
“Love you,” she said. “Try to have some fun!”
You watched her go, thinking about just how long you wanted to be sitting by yourself at a bar versus in a Holiday Inn Express standard room when a voice appeared beside you.
“This seat open?”
The man from across the bar nodded to the seat Emily had just abandoned. You smiled a little and nodded once.
“You have very convenient timing.”
“Well,” he shrugged. “Leaving a pretty girl all alone at the bar seems like a crime. Trying my damndest to stay on the right side of the law.”
“And how’s that going for you?”
He smirked a little. His cheek dimpled.
“Well enough.”
You smiled and introduced yourself before holding out your hand. He took it.
“Joel,” he said. “Don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”
“Because I’ve never been here before,” you smiled. “I’m in from out of town, my hotel is a few doors down. This was convenient and hey, the Yelp reviews weren’t the worst.”
“What brings you to the great city of Austin, Texas?” He asked, settling in on the seat beside you. He was older than you but you kind of liked men that way now that you were in your mid 20s and exhausted by every man you’d dated in college. You liked them a little older, more established, men who knew how to cook their own damn food and give you your own damn orgasm. “Business or pleasure?”
“Neither,” you smiled a little, taking a sip of your drink. “Family event.”
“That’s not pleasure?”
You laughed once.
“Not the way my family does it.”
“That why you’re in a hotel and not stayin’ with them?” He asked, brows raised.
“Bingo,” you replied. “I get in, I get drunk, I get out.”
He nodded slowly.
“Good system.”
“Worked well enough for me over the years.”
The two of you ended up talking about music and books and UT football until last call - far later than you’d intended to stay out.
“Mind if I walk you back to your hotel?” Joel asked. “Not tryin’ to be a creep but… I’d sleep a lot better tonight knowin’ you got back safe. Promise it’s not a ploy.”
“Damn, it’s not?” You asked, tucking your purse on your arm and heading for the door. “Because I was going to ask you to come up to my room if it was.”
“Well shit,” he said, catching up with you. “Maybe it is a ploy then.”
You found yourselves drawing out the walk back all the same, pace more of an amble than a brisk walk, but the hotel was so close that it really only added a few minutes to your walk all the same.
“Well,” you smiled at the door to the lobby. “This is me.”
“Yeah,” he nodded once, looking inside for a moment before looking back at you. “Look… you don’t owe me anything, alright? I’m not the kind of guy who wants to force something. I can just head on back to my truck, no hard feelings…”
“Well maybe none for you,” you teased a little. “But I might have some. Unless you really don’t want to fuck me.”
“Oh, I want to,” he said. “Trust me on that…”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” he laughed. “Been at the top of my list since you first walked in that place, baby, lemme tell you.”
“Well then,” you jerked your head toward the door. “Why don’t we cross it off the list?”
You took his hand in the elevator, his palm so broad, his fingers thick and long and callused in yours. You pressed your back against the wall and pulled him onto you so his hips were on yours and his nose brushed your own. His eyes ranged over your face, hungry and soft and open.
“You sure about this?” He asked, looking down at the rest of your body for a moment before going back to your face. “Sure you don’t have something better to do than some old man?”
“I’m sure,” you smiled at him, draping your arms over his shoulders. “Besides, I like old men. How old are you, anyway?”
“Forty-five,” he said. “How old are you?”
You snorted.
“I’m not sure I should say,” you said, holding him a little closer all the same. “Since you’re all hung up on age…”
“Not hung up on it,” he rolled his eyes. “Just… don’t need to be some youthful mistake is all. Wait, Jesus, please tell me you’re at least out of college, tell me you’re not a teenager…”
You laughed.
“No,” you shook your head. “Not a teenager. And I’ve been out of college a few years, I’m 25.”
“God,” he closed his eyes and shook his head once, like he was trying to shake the idea of you loose. “Still, that’s… you’re…”
You pressed your lips ever so slightly against his, more a quick brush than anything else, giving him every opportunity to pull back.
He didn’t take it.
Instead, he pressed his lips to yours, his hands going to your waist and tugging you tightly to his body while he pushed you back against the wall. Your arms got tighter to him and you opened your mouth, his tongue licking into you almost immediately. Joel didn’t need an engraved invitation, all he needed was a sign that you wanted him and fuck, you wanted him. More and more, each passing second, you wanted him. There was heat in you that was starting to flare so molten and hot that you pulled at his clothes, forgetting that you weren’t alone, not really.
The elevator dinged and he all but sprang back from you, both of you panting for breath.
“Fuck,” he breathed, looking you up and down, pupils blown.
“C’mon,” you took his hand. “I’m down the hall.”
You pulled him along behind you and fumbled to get your room key out of your bag. Joel’s wide, thick hands slipped around your waist as you did, tugging your ass back against his growing bulge and fuck, but he was huge. Thick and long and you knew his zipper had to be fucking killing him, cock that big and hard restrained by mere fabric and a slip of metal. His lips found the hinge of your jaw, your neck, down to your shoulder and you groaned a little as you clumsily forced the keycard in the door, the little beep the mechanism gave one of the best damn sounds you’d heard all night.
The two of you practically fell into your hotel room. You dropped your purse on the first table inside the door and started stepping out of your heels as Joel turned you around to face him, manipulating your body to put you right where he wanted you and the fire in you sparked higher, brighter as he manhandled you. Every touch he gave was loaded with need, the air thick and heavy with it as he pawed at your clothes and skin, licking into your mouth at every opportunity, taking your chin firmly in his heady grip to tug you open further for him, all but forcing you to give him everything.
You were as rough with his clothes as he was with your body, pulling so hard and fast at the buttons of his shirt that two popped free, pinging off the glass of the mass produced art that hung on the wall.
“Shit,” you panted, looking around the dark of your room for the buttons.
“Don’t give a fuck,” Joel replied, breathless, clutching you close and tight before you could pull away. “Didn’t really like this shirt, anyway.”
You shoved it down and off as he tugged your dress down your body, leaving it in a pile on the floor before turning you so the backs of your legs were against the bed. He deftly unhooked your bra with one hand then, ripping the straps down your arms but almost reverently lowering the cups, panting for breath as he exposed your breasts to his gaze. Joel tossed your bra to the side before taking the soft weight of your tits in his hands, cupping them, brushing his thumbs over your hardening nipples as he looked down at you with a look of near awe on his face. You half expected him to shove you back down onto the bed after his race to get you undressed but instead, his arm went around your waist, his hand splaying wide over the smooth skin of your back and he pulled you tight against him, making you gasp.
He moaned, deep and low, and dropped his head to your bared shoulder before trailing his nose over you to your neck, the wet heat of his breath on your skin.
“Fuck, you’re so goddamn soft,” he groaned, almost pained, and pressed his lips to your throat, making your breath catch. You clung to the broad expanse of his back, fingertips pressing into him, trying to get at every inch of his skin that you could find.
His mouth found yours and he gently, delicately, lowered you back onto the bed. He cradled your body against his own, keeping the firm line of him taut to you as he kissed you. Joel rested you on the mattress and you let your legs fall open so he could settle between your thighs, the heady weight of him pressing against your clit and making you moan.
“You got a problem if I explore this pretty body of yours?” He asked, his lips still brushing yours when he spoke. “Because fuck, baby, seems like a sin to not touch every goddamn inch of you.”
He rocked his thick, hard, still clothed cock against your core, as if to make his point, and took your responding moan as the yes it was. He trailed his lips slowly over your body, down your throat, your breast bone, your stomach, your navel. His nose brushed against you, his breath covering you in warm and needy pants. When he reached your underwear - the last thing still on your body - his fingers looped through the band before he paused, looking up at you over your stomach and between your breasts.
“You still with me, pretty girl?” He asked, mouth so close to your skin that the wetness of his lower lip had caught on your stomach. “Still good with this?”
“Yes, Joel, please,” you were practically squirming. He was so close to precisely where you needed him it seemed like you might melt with the want of him. “Fuck, please…”
“Fuck, you’re even prettier when you beg,” he said and started to pull your panties down over your hips. You lifted yourself up off the bed to help and it wasn’t long before you were naked below him. He knelt in front of you and took your knees in his hands, parting your thighs for him and groaning when he did.
“Goddamn,” he breathed, so quiet you weren’t sure you were meant to hear it or if he’d meant to say it out loud at all. “Just… fuck.”
He opened your legs enough to lay between them, settling with your thighs over his shoulders. His thumb traced a slow, tender path over your slit, brushing your clit and making you gasp when he did.
“Swear you’ve got the prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen,” he said before he pressed his lips to your leaking hole. He moaned as he did and you couldn’t help but thrust against him once. He pulled back from you just a little, his nose barely touching your clit as he did. “Needy little pussy, too, huh?”
Your fingers knotted in the bedspread and Joel’s mouth found your clit, softly sucking the sensitive nub between his teeth to tease with his tongue. You fought the urge to rock your hips against his face, trying to remember that this man was practically a stranger, not a lover whose tastes you knew intimately. But that was hard to remember as he worked his way lower, his tongue slipping inside of you with a deep groan.
Joel ate you like you were a delicacy he longed to savor. He started slow, tasting and teasing you open, before delving deep like he couldn’t resist it, his thick tongue exploring and finding the soft and tender places inside you. His thumbs spread you open wide to him, his nose against your clit and you couldn’t stop yourself, you rolled your hips against him. He moaned into you and you forced your hips down on the bed, trying to clear your head enough to be still.
“Sorry,” you panted. “I didn’t mean to do that, you’re just… really fucking good at that.”
He stopped and pulled back from you enough to look up your body again, a frown on his face, your slick glistening on his beard in the light from the parking lot outside.
“You think I don’t want you fucking my face?” He asked. “Fuck, baby, I want nothing more than for you to take exactly what you need. Want you to make yourself come on my face, you understand?”
You swallowed and nodded.
“What are you going to do?” He asked, voice almost stern.
“Make myself come on your face?” You more asked than answered.
“Better sound more sure than that,” he said, fingers moving to your clit. You gasped and moaned at the contact. “Come on baby, what are you going to do? Say it. Own it.”
“Come on your face,” you panted. “Fuck, Joel… I’m going to come on your face, I’m going to make myself come on your face, please…”
“Good,” he said, going back to eating your pussy.
It was like he’d been holding back before but had nothing stopping him now. His tongue pressed deep, his nose nestled in your slit to nudge your clit, his arms looped over the thickness of your thighs to keep you open for him while also pressing the softness of you to the sides of his head. Your orgasm built quickly, the heat in you sinking to your core, everything inside you there going taut and tense. You were just on the edge of it, whimpering below his tongue and his touch when one hand left the warmth of your thigh and moved to your slit, his finger sliding inside you alongside his tongue. He pressed into the soft, tender place inside you that seemed to elude other men, finding it with an almost practiced ease and moaning when he did, sending the sparks of your climax shooting through you.
He groaned, needy, as he ate you through it, not letting up, not even for a second until your orgasm had subsided and your head was swimming.
“Fuck you feel amazing,” he pulled himself from you, sucking the finger that was inside you clean before wiping your slick from his beard while his other hand traced over the smooth softness of your inner thigh. “Should’ve asked this sooner but… please tell me you’ve got a damn condom. I wasn’t exactly lookin’ for this tonight, not until I saw you, so I’m not exactly prepared.”
“I do,” you propped yourself up on your elbows, trying to remember where the hell you left your suitcase in the dark. You spotted it on the dresser, thankfully still mostly organized since you’d arrived that afternoon. You nodded to it. “Suitcase, top zipper pouch inside the lid.”
He got one, the crinkle of foil strangely loud in the silence of the room.
“Here,” you sat up and reached for him as he came to stand between your legs at the edge of the bed. “Let me do it…”
He gave you the packet and you opened it before palming the condom, holding it tight in one hand while slipping the other into the open zipper of his jeans and into his underwear to find his thick, heavy cock.
You moaned as you wrapped your fingers around his length, hard as steel wrapped in silken skin, and you stroked him, just half way up his cock at first before going from root to tip. He was dripping there, his arousal making his head slick and wet. You brushed your thumb over his leaking tip, the smooth skin making your mouth water. You looked up at him through your eyelashes as you leaned forward to lick him before taking just the very end of his cock between your lips. You suckled at him gently, lapping up his precome, Joel’s breaths getting heavier and faster as you did, before you took him into your mouth. He moaned as you sucked him, his hand going to the back of your head and holding you against him, your nose brushing against the base of his stomach. You took his head into your throat and moaned around him as you sucked him, making him hiss in pleasure, his grip on your skull tightening.
“Fuck, woman,” he managed as you kept sucking him. “Gonna make me come if you keep doin’ that…”
You pulled back from him slowly, his hold on you easing as you did, until he slipped from your mouth, still slick with your spit.
“Should probably stop then,” you said, a little breathless. You took the condom - warm now from the heat of your hand - and put it over his head before rolling it over his thick shaft. You stroked him once, twice and leaned forward again, sucking his tip for a moment when it was in place and his head tipped back, staring at the ceiling as he groaned.
“Jesus,” he panted. “Fuck, you gonna let me inside that soft little pussy of yours or make me come in your mouth?”
You laughed once, needy and low, before pulling yourself backwards on the bed, Joel’s eyes hungry on your body as you went. He shucked his jeans and underwear off before crawling, finally naked, between your thighs. His head brushed against your sex and he took the base of his cock in his hand, trailing his tip up and down your dripping slit before spreading you open for him, your pussy swollen and tender as he did. He put his tip against your dripping entrance, pressed just the very end of him inside, barely opening you to him. His hands moved to your thighs, brushing over them to your knees before trailing back toward your center, his fingers splayed wide over you soft flesh.
“You ready, baby?” He asked, needy.
“Yes,” you breathed. You’d passed ready a long time ago. You were desperate now, aching and all but begging for him to take up every empty space inside your body.
“Good,” he pressed forward until his head was fully inside your tight channel and you both moaned with it, one of your hands finding the smooth skin of your breast and squeezing it. He groaned at the sight as he started fucking just the tip of him into you, rocking in and out of you in short, sharp bursts. “Fuck, there you go baby. Just like that.”
He started feeding you more of his cock then, driving further into you with each stroke until he fucked all the way into you, his hips flush to yours, his thick length stretching you open, the burn of him meshing with the heady pleasure of being so utterly full.
“Goddamn,” he breathed, his cock buried inside you totally. “This pussy… fuck me.”
One of his hands went from your thigh to over your hip coming to rest and the soft swell of the base of your stomach. He spread wide over your skin, his palm swallowing the space over where he was inside of you and pressing down, making you moan as the tight fullness inside you got more intense. His thumb stretched down toward your clit and he started working you there as he just held himself within you, making your cunt throb once around him. He groaned at the feeling.
“That’s right,” he said. “So full of this cock ain’t you baby? Taking me so damn well…”
He kept working your clit for a minute, not moving inside you, just pressing into your skin until you were practically writhing below his touch. He was so big, you were so full, the pleasure in your body so tight. It made your head spin.
“Joel,” your fingers scratched at the blankets. “I need you to move, please, please, please…”
“Please what, pretty girl?” His voice was dark, low.
“Please fuck me,” you begged. “Please, please fuck me, please…”
He drew back then, achingly slow at first, watching where his cock was pressing into you with a hungry look on his face, before thrusting back in, deep and firm.
This, you thought, was why you liked fucking older men. Joel knew what he was doing. He worked your body with expert skill, grinding his cock deep inside so his head pressed against the most sensitive parts of you, the thick drag of him making your back arch and toes curl. He kept rubbing your clit with his thumb, the pressure and pace keeping your pleasure building and building but never quite cascading over the edge.
He kept fucking into you that way until you were desperate, your whole being drawn tight and achy around his cock. He’d stopped watching where your bodies were joined and had moved to your face, his gaze drinking in your desperate little moans and the way your eyes would scrunch closed as you got so close to coming but didn’t quite make it, whimpering as your climax fell just out of reach yet again.
“Got you so tight and needy, hm?” He said, breathless. You just nodded, trying to rock your hips up against him but held in place by his hand on your stomach. “Why don’t you tell me what you need? Tell me exactly what it is you need.”
“To come,” you whimpered. “Fuck, I need to come, you need to let me come, please let me come…”
“Think I’ve been keepin’ you on the edge too long?” He asked. “Think I should let this little pussy come? Let her just milk me dry?”
“Fuck, please,” you begged, not caring if you sounded pathetic. It’s not like you’d see this man again after tonight, anyway.
He took his thumb off your clit but before you had a chance to whimper in protest, he adjusted your legs to drive somehow deeper and leaned over you, pressing his bare skin to yours before kissing your neck, sucking and licking at the tender skin there as he fucked into you, making you whimper, your nails scrabbling over his back. His lips moved from your neck to your ear, his large hand coming to cup the crown of your head, his pace never relenting.
“Come for me,” he whispered, low and needy. “You can come, want you to come, want to feel you come. Just let go for me, just give in to me.”
His hips rocked against your clit, his cock buried so deep and you saw stars for a moment before you cried out, your orgasm hitting you hard after being on the edge of it for so long. It broke your whole body down, muscle clenching desperately, blood rushing, fingers clinging. You felt it everywhere, starting at your core and radiating out in hot, aching waves.
“Goddamn, that’s it,” he fucked you through it as your core fluttered over him. “Just keep comin’ for me, just like that, feeling so damn good baby just…”
He pressed deep as your orgasm started to fade and moaned, the sound going straight to your raw, fucked out cunt. The pulsing of his cock, in you to the root, rolled you into another orgasm, this one less intense but still making your pussy grip him close and tight as he spilled into the condom.
He collapsed on you for a moment as both of your climaxes eased, his chest heaving. Before his weight became too much, he adjusted, rising up enough to kiss you as he slid his softening cock from your body and falling flat on his back on the bed beside you.
“Damn,” you panted after a moment, staring up at the ceiling.
He laughed lightly beside you.
“Know the feelin’.”
You lay there next to each other, listening to each other as your breaths came back into a normal, steady cadence. Goosebumps started to pebble over your skin, the air cold as you were naked without his body on yours, the air conditioner below the window humming along.
You turned your head to look at him and he did the same.
“Should probably go…” his voice trailed off but he sounded reluctant. Or maybe you just hoped he did.
“You don’t have to,” you said, probably a little too quickly for a man you’d just met. Even in the dim light of the moon and the parking lot lights out your window, you could tell he raised his eyebrows. “I’m just… you can stay, if you want. It’s a big bed. Think we can manage it.”
“Wouldn’t want to impose…”
“You’re not,” you said. “You can leave, too, if you’d rather but… don’t feel like you have to rush out.”
He smiled a little.
“Then I’ll stay. I’d like to stay.”
You smiled back, that blissed out and relaxed feeling you had after you came settling over you.
“Good.”
The two of you settled far across the bed from each other at first but drifted quickly, until your head was on his chest and you were curved around his side as his arm wrapped around your shoulders, his fingers trailing up and down your arm until you fell asleep.
He was somehow even more beautiful in the light of day.
You realized it as the two of you went about the strange intimacy of getting ready for the day side by side with someone you didn’t know. He blinked sleep from his eyes when first woke up and stretched his back before getting out of bed, his curls haphazard and messy and his body soft and warm. He got dressed and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tame it. You offered him your travel toothbrush as you got dressed and he watched you pull on your jeans as he leaned against the bathroom doorframe.
“Been a while since I’ve done this,” he said, a little hesitant.
“Just how long?” You asked, teasing as you pulled on your shirt.
“Longer than I want to admit,” he said, small smile making his cheek dimple. “Long enough that I don’t remember exactly how this is supposed to work but… I’d like to take you to breakfast. If you want.”
You smiled.
“Sure,” you said. “I’d like that.”
Joel walked back to the bar and picked up his truck before taking you to a diner not too far from your hotel. You laughed with him about menu typos and the questionable song choices coming from the speakers over greasy eggs and toast soaked in butter.
“Know we just met,” he said as you were on your fourth cup of coffee and you were both avoiding the fact that you’d have to leave this table and go your separate ways soon. The remains of your hashbrowns had long gone cold, ketchup smeared across the plate and you weren’t ready to say goodbye to him yet. “And that you’re in town for some family thing but… if you’re not busy tonight, would you want to come with me to this party? Buddy of mine is throwin’ in, supposed to be nice. Think he gave me a plus one in hopes I’d actually use it.”
“Damn,” you winced a bit. “I really wish I could but the thing I’m in town for is tonight.”
“Damn’s right,” he smiled a little. “Think you’d be my best shot for a good time at that thing.”
“Yeah, back at you for my thing,” you laughed.
“Here,” he pulled his phone from his pocket and unlocked it before handing it over. “Put your number in. Maybe we could still get together later…”
You took it but hesitated, thumb tapping on the side of his phone case.
He frowned.
“What?”
“I live hours away,” you said. “Is this really smart?”
He shrugged.
“Don’t really care if it’s smart or not. Just want to see you again. If you’ll let me.”
You smiled a little and shook your head before putting your number in his phone.
“There,” you said, handing it back over. “Let me know when you’re done with your thing. I can think of a few more ways to get some good use out of my hotel room.”
Two more cups of coffee later, Joel dropped you off at your hotel. You kissed him goodbye in the cabin of his truck, moaning against his mouth before pulling away.
“Alright, go before I come back in with you,” he said playfully, reaching across you to open your door.
You laughed.
“Don’t tempt me,” you got out and paused before closing your door, taking one last chance to look him over. “If we don’t see each other again… It was good meeting you.”
“Good meeting you, too,” he said. “But don’t worry. I’ll see you again.”
You went inside, looking back over your shoulder once you were in the lobby, Joel’s truck still sitting near the doors as he waited to make sure you were safely inside.
There was an odd sense of loss in you as you got ready for your parents’ big anniversary party. You hadn’t expected to meet anyone when on your trip back to your hometown, let alone someone you liked so much. You’d been single for a while, doing things alone didn’t really bother you. But now, you felt this tug of desire to have him getting ready beside you where you could help him with his tie and he could zip you into your dress.
But that was stupid. You knew it was stupid. Your job had taken you to Memphis and you liked it there. You weren’t in a rush to move back to your hometown. And Joel had a business here. It wasn’t going to happen. It’d be a lot easier in the long run if you just accepted that now.
You showed up early to the party, your older sister wanting help to get things set up in the tents outside.
“Who all is coming to this shindig anyway?” You asked as you put pictures of your parents out around a guest book near the entrance of the tent.
“Oh, you know,” your sister waved you off.
“Not really,” you said. She gave you a look. “What! I haven’t been home for a family party in… well, it’s been a minute.”
“Yeah, and I’ve been the one doing all the work to help with those for a while,” she said.
“And you’re definitely not bitter about that…”
“Not one bit,” she teased. “But the usual people. The closest neighbors, the aunts and uncles, Mom’s book club, church people, Dad’s friends…”
“Dad has friends?” You gaped at her. “Since when?”
“He’s had friends for years!”
“OK, he’s never had friends,” you said. “Where is he finding friends? Shit’s unnatural…”
“Don’t let them catch you saying shit,” she said. “And there are a few from work, one from this basketball league he joined…”
“Ew,” you crinkled your nose. Your sister laughed.
“Definitely not ew,” she said. “At least not the basketball friend one, he’s weirdly hot, it’s disturbing…”
“Well, there’s no accounting for taste, is there?” You teased.
“You’ll eat those words when you meet the guy,” she said. “Just wait.”
“Whatever you say,” you rolled your eyes, skeptical. You and your sister had never had the same taste in men, you didn’t see any reason for that to have changed.
But still, you were keeping an eye out for this mysterious hot friend of your father’s as people started to arrive for the party. Or trying to, anyway. You kept getting pulled away by distant relatives you hadn’t seen since your cousin’s wedding or to do a favor for your mom as she frantically rushed around trying to take care of everyone while also trying to have fun at the party that was being thrown in her honor.
Everything was in full swing when you heard your father call your name from across the large, increasingly full tent. He waved you over, leaning around a man he was talking to, and you worked your way around the dance floor, trying not to think about how much you’d like to have a date at this damn thing - how much you’d like to have Joel as your date at this damn thing - when you froze beside your dad. The man standing next to him was devastatingly familiar, even from behind. Tallest man in the room, broad shoulders, thick curls. Your heart beat faster.
“Hey honey,” your dad said, tugging you closer. “Want you to meet my friend. Joel, this is my youngest that I’ve told you so much about.”
He turned around, a beer bottle in his hand a smile on his face that fell the moment he saw you. Your dad was saying something else but you didn’t hear it, too busy staring at the man who had been inside you less than 24 hours earlier.
The man who had you thinking about what life alongside another person would be like.
The man who was apparently your father’s friend.
“Hi,” he said after your dad had stopped talking. You hadn’t noticed.
“Hi,” you said, still staring at him.
Fuck, you were in trouble.
A/N: Here's whatever this is. He's unhinged, I don't know what's happening to the Joels who live in my head lately but they're just going crazy up there. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! Love you!
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osamu and you leave your daughter with her uncle atsumu for the weekend. chaos ensues.
___
“i woulda felt better leavin’ her with kita or aran.”
you let out a snort at your husband’s statement. “over your own brother? her blood relative?”
you and osamu were driving to a weekend getaway in the mountains. while the two of you were excited for a break and some quality time, there was no denying that there was some apprehension in the car.
it was the first time you’d be away from your baby daughter. as great as a vacation sounded, it would be a lie to say the two of you weren’t reluctant to go.
in order to ease your nerves, a suitable babysitter was chosen.
only osamu didn’t have a lot of faith in your choice.
“exactly, he’s ma brother, so ‘m the only one who understands just how much of ‘n idiot he truly is.”
“but you saw how happy he was to offer to watch her! atsumu loves being a uncle, he won’t half-ass taking care of her. besides, if he ends up needing help your mom is just a call away.”
“ma’s hostin’ her book club this saturday, she can’t just drop everythin’ if tsumu’s dumbass ends up needin’ help.”
you let out a sigh. “samu, just try and relax. i’m sure everything over on his end is fine.”
____
“COURT BABY! COURT BABY! COURT BABY!”
hinata and bokuto chanted as they watched your daughter crawl across the shiny floor of the msby practice gym.
having grown tired of the play mat and toys her uncle atsumu had laid out for her, the little one decided exploring her surroundings would be far more exciting.
“she’s crawlin’ earlier than most babies would,” atsumu chimed proudly. “must’ve got ma athlete genes.”
sakusa rolled his eyes from behind the fake blonde.
“she’s really going fast! let’s time her to see how quick she can move!” hinata suggested, fascinated by the little human on the ground.
“we’re supposed to be doing passing drills-“
“GREAT IDEA HINATA!” bokuto shouted.
“i give up,” the masked brunette said, moving to sit down on the bleachers since apparently no one was going to actually bother to follow instructions.
atsumu smirked while watching his teammates fawn over his niece. he knew it would be a good idea to just bring her to friday practice. the vibe for fridays was always a little more laid-back, and he knew having a cute little baby around would earn him brownie points with his excitable teammates. who didn’t love babies?
his brown eyes shifted over to sakusa momentarily, who was gazing at his niece with a look of disdain on his face.
okay, maybe he didn’t enjoy kids, but the rest of the team sure did!
“hey hey hey, baby miya! let’s see how quick you can crawl to your uncle tsum-tsum!”
atsumu grinned, moving to kneel on the ground so he can encourage his niece to move towards him. seeing the familiar face of her uncle- who shared a face with her father- had her happily babbling away as she pushed towards him.
“awe, she’s trying to talk!” hinata cooed, lip wobbling as he watched the precious exchange.
“alright, everyone,” a voice boomed. everyone turned to see a muscular figure with a head of spiky black hair enter the gymnasium.
“your coach asked me to come over to ensure you boys were actually practicing,” iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer stated. “i have some specific stamina exercises i want everyone to participate in. we’re gonna start by-“
movement in the lower peripheral of iwa’s vision caught his attention and the former ace found his gaze turning toward the floor.
“…why the hell is there a baby here?”
“don’t fuckin’ curse in front’a ma niece!”
“you just- nevermind,” iwa grunted, trying to be as patient as possible considering there was a literal infant present.
slotting his clipboard into the junction of his shoulder, the athletic trainer bent down to gently pick up your daughter. balancing her on his hip as if he’d done it a million times before, he turned back to the team.
“alright, jumping jacks and high knees, i want those heart rates getting up!”
before atsumu could open his mouth, iwa shot him a pointed look.
“i’ll hold your niece, miya, now get moving.”
the squeaking of shoes against the linoleum floor began to sound off. after ensuring everyone was properly following his instructions, he turned to the baby in his hold.
everyone knew iwaizumi was tough, but few knew how much of a complete softie he could be at times. giving your daughter a small smile, he lifted his hands to wave his fingers at her, to which she smiled back and tried to mimic his movements.
he let out a light laugh. “motor skills coming along there, i see-“
“iwaaaaa-chaaannnnn,” a voice sounded off from behind him.
iwaizumi froze. that voice, that stupid nickname, he knew it from anywhere. he began to turn his head to look behind him, gradually as if he was moving in slow-motion.
there was no way…
“guess who flew all the way from argentina to surprise you with his presence,” oikawa boasted as he stepped into the room. “that’s right, me-“
the seijoh grad fell silent as his chocolate colored eyes fell on the small human in his best friend’s hold.
oikawa blinked once. twice. three times. then-
“since when did you have a kid?”
“tooru, this isn’t-“
“how could you keep this from me?”
“will you please just-“
“a whole child? when?”
“shittykawa just shut up-“
“STOP CURSIN’ IN FRONT’A HER!”
“-and listen to me for a second!”
oikawa finally stopped his tirade, moving towards iwaizumi to study the baby in his arms. he bent down to be eye level with her, the both of them staring at each other curiously.
the brunette hummed to himself, reaching a finger out to poke your daughter’s cheek. “she doesn’t look like you.”
“wow, what an observation, it’s almost like she’s not my kid.”
“then who’s is she-“
“she’s my niece,” atsumu growled out, pushing oikawa away from the baby he was prodding at. he fixed the other man with a glare, well aware of who he was and what position he also played. the fact that this potential rival thought he could casually touch his flesh and blood had the fake blonde heated. “i’m takin’ care’a her for the weekend, which means i ain’t letting no lesser setter lay’a hand on her.”
“lesser setter?”
“oh boy,” iwa said, moving away from the two ego-fueled players. he could tell they were about to scuffle and he couldn’t let a baby be anywhere near that.
placing your little girl safely to the side, iwa crouched in front of her, sounds of “never saw ya at spring nationals” and “let’s see what your stats are, huh?” airing in the background.
“you stay right here, i’m gonna go get them to knock it off.”
standing a few meters away from all the chaos, sakusa watched as iwaizumi tried to wrench the two setters apart. sighing, he shifted his gaze to your daughter sitting unattended on the ground, babbling at nothing in particular.
sakusa grimaced. he really didn’t like babies. they were so…germy. and gross. but, he supposed the babies themselves couldn’t really help that fact. it wasn’t their fault they were so little and had such new immune systems.
a shadow then loomed over your daughter, bokuto and hinata standing over her. now that iwaizumi was too distracted to lead them in workouts, the two’s attention was back on the infant.
“i know!” bokuto exclaimed. “let’s do passing drills with baby miya! we can pass her back and forth to each other!”
“she’ll feel like she’s flying! like she’s a little crow!”
“or an owl!”
“you two will be doing absolutely no such thing with this child,” sakusa interjected, scooping your daughter up and going to sit down on the bench with her.
“but ki-“
“no.”
he wasn’t a fan of babies, but considering your daughter’s uncle was currently holding oikawa in a headlock, sakusa figured he could keep an eye on her for just a few minutes. it wouldn’t be too much longer before iwa finally decided he’d had enough and smacked the shit out of both of them.
hearing a little gurgle from below him, the brunette cast his eyes downwards. your daughter’s sight was transfixed on him, a smile coming onto her face when she saw she had the spiker’s attention.
from behind his mask, sakusa felt the corners of his lips twitch upwards.
okay, maybe babies were a little cute.
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The Way to His Heart [8]
Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 7 | Fic Masterlist | Part 9
"Sir, the dressmaker has arrived with the mistress' first batch of clothes. Should I send him directly to the House of Lotus?" Jongho asked tentatively from the entrance of his master's study.
Removing his hands from his head, Seonghwa looked up and shook his head miserably, "Lord, no. Send him to me first," The assistant bowed and went to do as he was told, "Right away, sir."
Hongjoong entered the study without bothering to knock, hands propped on his hip as he stared at your husband, unamused, "Would you mind explaining why I'm here instead of presenting the new clothes to your wife, Park Seonghwa?"
"I need advice, Hongjoong." The general croaked, feeling quite lost for once. He had rarely ever been in such a situation; who knew all it took was one woman to put him in such misery. Not even the most vicious enemies he had fought in war could have ever fazed him this much.
He returned from work the day before, enthusiastically sharing his plans for the grand wedding he wanted to give you. However, things went south when he dropped the bomb about the visit to your old home, foolishly believing you would express joy at the prospect of flaunting your newfound happiness to your wicked family. Instead, you were gripped with fear at the idea. You ended up retiring to your quarters early and refused to come out ever since.
Goddamnit, I'm the biggest moron ever.
The dressmaker raised an amused brow, having never seen Seonghwa like this before. He went over to sit down across from his friend, "Hmm, I didn't think you'd be having trouble in paradise this soon. Let's hear it; we'll see if there's anything I can do for you and that lovely wife of yours."
Taking a deep breath, your husband started from the beginning, recounting every single thing that happened from the start of your arranged marriage until the present.
"Wait, you're taking her back to that wretched place? No wonder she's upset, you idiot! You said it yourself; she suffered so badly being caged in there all her life. I mean, sure, your cause is very noble—wanting to make her family pay for what they've done with this plan of yours. But you'd been so focused on that, you forgot how traumatising it could be for her, huh? You really didn't think that one through, my friend."
Letting out a groan, the general pulled at his hair, "Yes, thank you for repeating it all to me like I didn't already know what I did wrong. Now, tell me what exactly it is that I can do to make it all better."
"You're welcome. Oh, I'll tell you what to do, all right. You best keep your dumbass seated here while I talk to her," instructed Hongjoong, watching expectantly as your husband frowned, "What? Why should you talk to her? It's my mess; I should be the one to clean it up."
Sighing, the dressmaker explained, "Look, we all know the only way for you to make things better is to not take her back to the damn house at all. But you do have a point, okay? You've come this far with your plan, and as much as it sucks, she must go there with you in order for this to work out. So, you stay put, and let me convince her to go willingly with you, got it?"
Seonghwa nodded reluctantly, realising his friend was right. As much as he hated how charming Hongjoong was and how persuasive he could be, he would have to rely on those skills to help you see things in the bigger picture. Sure, you were not privy to any details about the revenge, but hopefully, he will be able to make you at least want to stand up to your family for once.
"Lady Park, it's Hongjoong. I've brought your first batch of clothing. May I have permission to enter?" Blinking in surprise, you straightened up, not expecting to hear the dressmaker's voice, "O-okay, please come in."
Despite the anxious state you'd been in since the revelation your husband had dropped upon you the night before, you couldn't help but smile at the unusually colourful outfit of your visitor. Eunsook followed behind him with a group of servants filing in to deliver the precious cargo into your quarters.
The head maid felt relieved to see you smiling again, even if it was only a little. She had been concerned about you after witnessing your retreat into your old shell the previous night, as the fear you demonstrated reminded everyone of your initial arrival.
In an effort to distract you from your upsetting thoughts, the dressmaker quickly pulled out a few designs he thought you'd love, "Come, take a look at this! I made it the way you preferred and added a little touch of my magic. What do you think?"
Fortunately, his strategy worked like a charm, and you immediately moved over to him with sparkly eyes, marvelling at some of the most beautiful hanboks you'd ever seen, even prettier than the ones he had displayed in his shop.
As you admired the clothes in front of you, Hongjoong exchanged a knowing look with the elderly woman. Nodding, she quietly exited your room along with the rest of the servants, leaving you alone with your husband's old friend.
But you weren't entirely alone, of course.
Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa was right outside, listening intently. He didn't spare any of his servants a glance as they all passed by him with a deep bow, waving his hand carelessly in a gesture to ask them to leave quickly.
"Hey, you haven't answered me. Do you like them, Lady Park?" The dressmaker asked, a teasing smile on his face as he found your endearing shyness adorable.
You nodded quickly, "Yes, I do. I love them. They're all perfect. I just... don't know if I deserve to wear any of these." The general felt his heart clench at your response, realising you were still far from being able to love yourself.
With a scoff, Hongjoong moved to stand beside you, "I'll have you know I only make dresses for people I deem worthy of them. Not just anyone can wear my designs, you know. And you, by far, are probably my favourite client. So that says a lot."
Your husband silently agreed with those words, resisting the urge to rush in there and hold you tight, to tell you that you deserved only the best, that you deserved everything good in the world.
Lowering your head, you fiddled with your fingers before replying in a small voice, "You're only saying that because I'm the general's wife..."
Sighing lightly, the dressmaker turned to face you, "You're not wrong... but that's exactly because not just anyone can be Lady Park. Many women before you tried to be in your position. Regardless of their efforts, he never would have given them the time of day. Yet, he wholeheartedly accepted you."
Recognising the doubt in your eyes, he further explained, "I understand if you think these are just words. But that's probably because you don't know the general like I do. We've known each other since joining the military in our teens. Back then, the Seonghwa I knew would never bat an eyelash at any woman."
As you slowly looked up to meet his kind eyes, intrigued to learn more about your husband's past, he continued, "Those rumours about him being the cold-blooded general were not lies. He really was as merciless as they say. He still is, just not to you. When I saw him again for the first time after years that day, I couldn't believe the man in front of me was the same friend I once knew. He's different around you; he's different because of you."
"It's evident that you're special to him, that you mean something to him. He cares so much about you; do you realise that?"
Tears welled up in your eyes, and you hurriedly blinked them back. The thought of someone genuinely caring for you still seemed surreal despite the amount of care that had been shown to you since living here. However, you were starting to understand that he was right.
Hongjoong grinned, seeing the effectiveness of his words, "You're the first and only woman who can tame Park Seonghwa, so you are beyond worthy of my dresses."
Before you could even attempt to protest, he held up a hand, "And don't bother telling me I'm wrong because I'm never wrong."
You couldn't help but giggle at his sassy words, and he smiled sincerely at you, saying, "So don't you dare question whether you deserve these clothes. You're the only one who deserves them because these are made only for you, do you understand?"
This time, you nodded with a wide smile.
"I want you to wear my dresses proudly and show the world who you are: the great Lady Park, the only woman General Park wants as his wife. No one will dare disrespect or look down on you again."
Feeling as if he knew exactly what had been worrying you, you felt touched. He was right; you were not who you used to be. You had no reason to cower from your family, recalling their belittling assumptions about your survival in this marriage. Now was your chance to prove them wrong.
With newfound determination, you nodded firmly, "You're right, I will. Thank you, Hongjoong. You're a good friend; Seonghwa is lucky to have you."
He crossed his arms over his chest cheekily, "I sure am. That fool hasn't a clue how fortunate he is."
Mission accomplished.
Pumping his fists in victory, your husband silently cheered outside, brushing off the playful taunts from his friend. Just this once, he would forgive Kim Hongjoong.
"Are you ready, my dear?"
The general turned to you as your carriage came to a stop, marking your arrival at what you assumed to be the Jang estate, your former prison. With a resolute nod, you smiled up at him, "I am."
As you moved to exit the vehicle, your husband halted you. Cupping your face in his hands, he gazed reassuringly into your eyes, "Remember, whatever happens, I'm here with you. You're not alone from now on; I'll always be here to protect you."
"I know, Seonghwa. I believe in you."
His heart melted at those words, and he couldn't resist pressing a lingering kiss onto your forehead. You fluttered your eyes closed, holding onto his wrists, cherishing the warmth he was providing.
"Alright, let's go." Leaving one final peck on your cheek, he got out of the carriage and swiftly helped you down, his strong arm securely wrapped around your waist. Eunsook stood there, mouth agape, that was initially meant to be her responsibility but she realised her assistance was no longer needed at the moment.
Jongho grinned, nudging the elderly woman on the shoulder as they followed their master and mistress into the minister's estate, "Come on, we've got work to do."
Taking a deep breath, you surveyed the familiar surroundings that once made you feel small. Feeling a reassuring squeeze on your hand, you found comfort in your husband's presence.
Yes, he's here with you now.
Nothing bad will happen.
His grip on your hand tightened, and his warm smile, reserved only for you, vanished when a few of your father's servants nervously stumbled out, bowing deeply before both of you, "Good morning, General Park. Welcome to the Jang estate."
The brave front you had put on seemed to falter slightly as you realised the servants here remained the same, showing no acknowledgement despite you no longer being their prisoner. Seonghwa, glaring at the maids in front of him, growled in a low voice, "You've left out Lady Park. Will you not greet my wife?"
Gulping on behalf of the servants, you witnessed the return of the general's intimidating demeanour. Hongjoong was right; he was still terrifying, just not to you.
The maids bowed deeper, "B-but sir—"
"What is going on here?" That voice resonated across the courtyard, causing your heart to plummet to the lowest pit of your stomach. Perhaps you weren't ready to face them at all. Your father emerged from the main hall, wearing an expression that was far from pleased.
You pressed closer to your husband, and instinctively, he wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you close. The minister's eyebrow raised in surprise at your refined appearance; he nearly did not recognise you. You were even more stunning than on the day you left this place, seemingly given a complete makeover.
Aside from that, he realised the general had meant his words when he had spoken so highly of you during assembly. Witnessing the intimacy between the two of you, there was undeniable evidence of shared affection. Your father began to question whether marrying you to his enemy was a mistake in the first place.
Seonghwa smirked, "Ahh, Minister Jang, it seems your servants do not know proper manners. They did not greet my wife, and that, to me, is punishable."
The old man felt his eye twitch at the general's satisfied grin before responding, "Well, I'm their master, so I decide what is punishable, General Park."
"Right, well, I'm just looking out for you. Wouldn't want people to find out what rotten-mannered staff my father-in-law has in his estate, not knowing how to show respect to even the general's wife."
"You do realise that before she became your wife, she's my daughter first." Your father sneered, and you felt sick at that, to be called his daughter when you've never once been treated as such.
Remaining unfazed, your husband retorted, "All the more reasons for them to show respect to their eldest miss then, no?"
Jongho and Eunsook bowed their heads in an effort to hide their snickers at the minister's red face flushing in embarrassment. He should have known better than to think he could win the general in an argument, "R-right. What are you fools standing around for? Show Lady Park some bloody respect!"
The line of servants bowed all the way down pathetically, "Yes, master! Good morning, General Park and Lady Park! Welcome to the Jang estate!" They chanted loudly, enough to bring about the rest of your family, coming out to witness what all the fuss was about.
"Very well, let us head in then." With a bored expression, Seonghwa walked into the hall with you, moving right past your stepmother and stepsisters intentionally, paying them no mind as he helped you into a seat before settling down beside you.
All four of the women standing in the main hall were rooted to their spots, eyes bulging as they took in the sight of you and your husband. First of all, you were nearly unrecognisable. If they thought you looked pretty on the day you got married, you were now almost a hundred times more beautiful, though they would rather die than ever admit it out loud.
Beyond your enhanced appearance, they were more taken aback by the general's beauty. He was nothing like they had imagined; he must have been one of the most attractive men ever, or at least the most handsome one they had seen so far.
Suddenly, your stepsisters were even angrier than they were upon learning about your stupid grand wedding. They were now furious with their father for never having told them about how good-looking General Park truly was. If only they knew, they would have volunteered to marry him themselves.
But what if there was still hope for them?
What if they had a chance?
After all, you hadn't officially wed Seonghwa yet and were merely here to discuss plans for the upcoming ceremony. Perhaps, with enough effort, they could still win him over. If a peasant like you could seduce the general, why couldn't any of them? With this determination in mind, the three stepsisters promptly began adjusting their appearances as you all gathered around the main hall.
You didn't appreciate the way your stepsisters were eyeing your husband, although you understood their motives. Sensing your discomfort, Seonghwa moved closer to you in his seat, whispering in your ear, "Are you feeling alright, my dear?"
Nodding lightly, you looked up with a small smile, "I am, as long as you're with me," He couldn't resist smiling at your words as he gave you a gentle peck on the head, "Good."
That should be me!
The three stepsisters clenched their fists, their fury intensifying as they witnessed the handsome general being affectionate with you. It should have been them; the title of the general's wife was more befitting a noblewoman like them, not a rat like you. How dare you sit there in their place as if you deserved it?
In an attempt to break the silence, Jinah cleared her throat and made her move, "Have you been well, unnie? I missed you so much! Did you know how worried I was about you? You must have had such a hard time, especially after you adamantly refused to marry General Park."
Seonghwa raised a brow in amusement, while you remained quiet, unsure how to respond to such a blatant lie. Jinjoo scoffed at your lack of response, "Unnie! Will you really not answer Jinah at all? You've always been like that, so ungrateful when we care so much about you!"
"Really? My wife being ungrateful? That's wild. I cannot imagine her like that at all." Your husband chuckled, holding you close when he felt you begin to tremble.
Jinhee's fists shook with envy as she nodded pitifully, "Yes, that's because you haven't known her well enough, my lord. She can be so scary when she's mad, you know how the eldest usually are."
Minister Jang rubbed a tired hand over his head when he realised what his stepdaughters were trying to do. Of course, these foolish girls would easily be blinded by the general's appearance. Even his own wife, seated beside him, found it difficult to take her eyes off the gorgeous young man.
Jongho and Eunsook, positioned behind you and their master, were making every effort to contain the irritation they felt. The audacity of these women to feign innocence after what they've put you through all these years. They were once again thankful not to have any of these conniving foxes as their mistress.
Rubbing his thumbs over your hands, Seonghwa laughed sarcastically in disbelief, "I'm sorry, I just find that so hard to believe. Are you sure you're not all talking about yourselves?" In an instant, his smile dropped, and he sent your stepsisters a death stare as if daring them to continue spouting more ridiculous lies about you.
Left in stunned silence, they blinked nervously and avoided his eyes, unprepared for his questioning. It was clear that they hadn't planned their silly little act thoroughly.
Damn it, how did that worthless thing manage to gain his favour?
"That's enough." The minister declared firmly, not wanting his stepdaughters to continue embarrassing themselves. All he wanted was to get the general out of his house as soon as possible. Every moment that Seonghwa remained felt like a threat; your father was walking on eggshells around him.
Pushing himself off his seat, the old man addressed your husband, "You mentioned wanting to see the environment your wife grew up in, right? Let's proceed with that before we delve into discussions about your wedding arrangements. I don't have all day."
"Sure, can't wait." Seonghwa responded smugly, standing up with your hand securely in his. A sense of unease washed over you as you wondered what kind of deception your father would employ. Surely, they wouldn't be stupid enough to reveal your actual room to the general. Dread filled you, and you longed to return home.
Your real home, not this nightmare.
« Preview of Part 9 »
As you all followed the minister around the estate while he showed the general what was supposed to be your old room, Jongho exchanged a glance with the private investigator who was still posing as a staff member in the estate.
"This is unnie's room; she has the biggest and nicest one out of all of us. She's so lucky and doesn't even know it. I'm the youngest and I have the smallest room; I'd honestly be happy to have anything at all." Jinjoo said innocently, playing with a strand of hair as she batted her eyelashes at Seonghwa.
You stared blankly at the room supposedly designated as yours. It was merely a guest room rearranged with some of your stepsisters' belongings to create the illusion of long-term habitation. Sensing Jinah and Jinhee's intense gazes on you, you turned to find them glaring daggers at you as if daring you to speak up and disclose the truth to your husband.
If you voiced your denial, who would believe you? It was your entire family against you alone. Would there even be a point in trying?
Just as doubt started to creep in, Seonghwa wrapped an arm around you, reminding you of his support, "Is that true, my dear? Is this your room? It doesn't really seem to be your style at all."
Everyone held their breath, awaiting your response, but you remained silent, fixing your gaze on the familiar space where you spent your entire life, now masquerading as a storeroom.
"What is it that you're staring at so intently, hm? Let's go take a look."
Oh, crap.
Shit will go down in the next part, I assure you. Patience, my dearest readers, patience HAHA this part was focused more on setting the stage for the main event.😈
Also, I've created a mood board for this fic. If you haven't already checked it out, go take a look! I might consider making another one that depicts Seonghwa's estate if I'm able to find the right images.
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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Tag list (cont.): see comment/reply section
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helloooooo!!!! can i request a percy jackson x daughter of hera!reader headcanons?? it would be pretty interesting to see hera having a child tbh
thank you if you do 💛
percy jackson x daughter of hera!reader
summary: hcs for percy with a daughter of hera
when he first met you he was kinda worried bc he has beef with hera
but he's also confused bc wasn't she not supposed to have kids??
he expected you to be just like your mom
and you lowkey were
but you were a bit less.. uptight
but at the same time, u cant really blame her, her husband literally cheats on her so much
BUT ANYWAYS
i think u'd be so caring to him and he would love it SO MUCH
since hera is the goddess of marriage and childbirth, u would lowk take care of him like hes ur son
but like not in a weird way
u just care ab him so much that u baby him all the time
since both of ur cabins are always empty except for each other, u have sleepovers all the time
u have a pretty close relationship w ur mom, esp because ur her only demigod kid
percy isnt really jealous per say, bc he's decently close w poseidon, but like
he wishes he was that close with him
hera visits u in ur dreams a LOT bc she just loves u a lot
zeus is mad but she dgaf cuz ur her only daughter
and only kid
so obviously she's protective
esp when u tell her that u and percy r dating
shes at camp the next day asking u to introduce her to him
which ur like "mom pls y'all have already met"
and shes like "yes, but never when he was ur bf"
so u just go along w it bc u love her
they're lowk beefing bc she doesnt want u to get hurt
but as time goes on she realizes how much percy loves u and cares abt u
and she thinks ur the cutest couple ever
she is ready for yall to get married bc shes gonna throw the most extravagant and perfect wedding
and shes so excited esp bc ur the only kid she's going to be able to do this for
have i mentioned that she loves u a lot?
ANYWAYS
yk how in like house of hades and i think chalice of the gods when percy looks at annabeth and is js like "i cant wait to marry her and have kids"
yeah, hes like that but 300000x
and he's so excited bc he knows that ur gonna be SUCH a good mom
people always think ur weak bc ur mom "lets herself get cheated on"
or whatever dumbass shit they be saying
but u prove them wrong
mothers r fr the most powerful people in the UNIVERSE
and ur basically a mother bc u take care of everyone at camp
ur always at the infirmary helping the apollo kids bc its just in ur nature to love taking care of people
and percy always comes in with even the smallest little injuries
and it just warms ur heart to know that he wants to come see u even when ur working
u take care of the little baby pegasi too omg
gn thats so cute
imagine if blackjack had a lil baby pegasi and u took care of it
and percy is just like
melting
ur so sweet to them even if theyre "just horses"
it makes him so excited to have kids w u
whenever u see a little kid
or like a younger camper
u always tell him that u cant wait to go to new rome uni and then get married and have kids w him
the two of u are just so excited for the future with each other fr
i just think the two of u would be taking care of the pegasi and u would fall asleep in the hay after staying up talking
big surprise for the kids that have riding lessons that morning...
yall werent embarrassed tho cuz u have no shame fr
well, u have shame
percy has none
not the point.
everyone at camp sorta sees u as a mother and they always come to u
lowk camp therapist
bc they NEED one real bad
but it doesnt bother u bc u love to help them
ur always trying to fix problems at camp
and its very upsetting for you when you cant, and percy is always there to comfort u
ur lowk a meddler like ur mom
but its okay bc ur just worried about ur friends
i think that u would maybe have some soothing powers kinda like a hypnos kid, where u can like calm people down or put them to sleep
i also think that percy would suffer from panic attacks after his nightmares
so after he has a nightmare, you're there and if you can't soothe him with your words you just use ur powers
u can't stand to see him like that
it just upsets you so much
percy is so grateful for ur powers, but hes even more grateful for you
i think ur a lot more relaxed than most people at camp
and u dont really see the point in doing dangerous things for fun
which is different for percy, but he really does like it
he likes that he can just go to you and ask to relax and ur always down for that
its a change of pace that is definitely welcome and necessary in his life
ur definitely more of a rational thinker than him, so u stop him from doing some pretty stupid things
but u would never stop him from having fun
or doing thing that are important to him
ur relationship is lowk the blue print
yall just take care of each other fr
and ur like an old married couple which u two get teased ab
but u dont care
cuz u cant wait to get married lol!
a/n: this was a vv interesting request to write and i honestly loved imagining what a child of hera would be like so thank u for the req!
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this idea came to me when I wanted to go to bed so imagine bradley at the hard deck wearing his usual hawaiian shirts and he bumps into a girl in a dress with the exact same design as his shirt like it's fate😭 and then after they start dating they always match🥹
THIS IS SO CUTE ??
--
The material that Bradley's hand brushes against is soft, but he doesn't pay much attention to it until he can see it. He stops in his tracks, offering you a sincere, "Sorry," when he's jostled from his left and rams into you on his right. You turn to glance at him over your shoulder, and you register each others' outfits at the same time, all owlish blinks and hitched breaths.
Bradley speaks first, a murmured, 'Oh-' but you're hot on his trail, an incredulous laugh escaping your lips.
You're wearing the same thing.
Bradley's sporting a faded old Hawaiian shirt, but it's unmistakably the same patterned fabric that your dress is made from. The green on his shirt was a lot brighter when he'd plucked it out of his dad's closet almost ten years ago, but yours is more vibrant, reminding him of a photo of him and his dad that lays in the drawer of his nightstand.
"I like your shirt," You grin at him, and he wonders if the glimmer in your eyes is always there, or only when you've got a drink in hand. It's pretty, he thinks, he hopes it's not temporary.
"I like your dress," He teases, swallowing what he doesn't want to admit is the beginnings of a lump in his throat, "Where'd you get it?"
"I found it at a thrift shop," You admit, reaching out to tug at the open panel of his shirt, "What about you?"
"It was my dad's," He grins, taking one step closer to you so that you're not so much reaching out for him as you are reaching up, "If he'd known there was a matching dress, he would have bought one for my mom."
"That's sweet!" You gush, and he notices whether you want him to or not, that you haven't let go of his shirt yet, "I like it when husbands match with their wives, I think it makes a good man."
--
"-And that's- that's why he's got that dumbass tie on," Fanboy concludes, words coming out slurred with laughter, "'Cause- cause three years ago she said it'd make him a good man."
"It's not dumb," Bob pipes up with a kind smile, eyeing Bradley's tie and your matching hair tie, a scrunchie made from the same fabric. You'd had to sacrifice your dress to fashion your accessories, but you're wearing maternity clothing now, and you likely won't be able to fit into it afterwards, anyways. It's a thing of the past, but you'd thought it unbearable not to incorporate the reason you'd gotten together with Bradley in the first place into your wedding.
"I don't care if he thinks it's dumb," Bradley drawls, his hand growing clammy from where it's been clutching yours beneath the table for almost an hour now, though he makes no move to break the embrace, "He thinks deodorant is dumb, too, and I can smell him from here."
"I'd watch what you say, Fanboy," Phoenix warns, "They made a onesie for the baby out of that dress, too, and if you keep running your mouth they might not let you hold her."
"He's not gettin' a chance to hold her anyways," Jake vows, "Kid's gonna love me so much she won't want me to put her down."
"You usually have the opposite effect on women," Bradley reminds him, "But the only ones I'll trust to hold her are Phoenix and Bob."
"No fair! I've got nieces and nephews," Jake protests, slightly more invested than normal thanks to the wine he's been nursing, his cheeks growing rosy with each sip, "I'm great with 'em."
"You throw those kids around like they're basketballs," Bradley scoffs, "And I'm not letting you give my baby brain damage, Hangman. I've gotta make sure she's smarter than you."
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william breeds his s/o after seeing the souls of the children he killed in the restaurant without his s/o knowing about his secret.
"There's a small boy in that area, asking for a hug. So, I gave him one. William, can we have a baby?"
HOLY FUCK THIS REQUEST IS AMAZING
EXPLICIT Content, 18+, Dark-content (ish), Breeding, Taking to ghosts, William Afton is a bitch (and I love it)
-You had been tiding up the restaurant just after closing so you could get some cleaning done.
-When a young boy, no older than none of ten had appeared before you. You hadn't even heard him approach you.
-He seemed lost and very sad. "Sweetie, are you okay? Where are your parents?" You asked him
-The boy sniffled and told you that he couldn't find them. He was close to tears.
-"I'm scared." He said. "Can I have a hug?"
-Your heart melted when he asked you this, poor little boy. You knelt down and opened your arms and he ran into your embrace.
-You said to the boy if he waited here for you to get your keys, you could drive him around to look for his parents.
-He nodded and you left the room to grab your purse. But when you had come back the boy was no where to boy found.
-Assuming his parents came back, you continued to tidy up the restaurant.
-The thought of the boy never let your mind through. Making you realize how much you longed for your own child.
-Later at home you approached your husband William, telling him you run in with the child today.
-A glint appeared in his eye when you mentioned the child, you asked him to start a family with you.
-"There's a small boy in the area asking for a hug, so I gave him one. William, can we have a baby?"
-His response was scooping you up bridal style in his arms and carrying you into the bedroom.
*****
-William wasted no time with you, he was as eager as you has ever seen him.
-He tossed you onto the bed and threw his clothes off, damn near pouncing on top of you.
-The love he made to you was ravenous, he was rough without being painful, his desperate-ness to get your pregnant turned you on.
-He had never treated you like this before, this time he was holding nothing back. The way he fucked you this time had orgasm after orgasm rolling through your body.
-You had gone multiple rounds all throughout the night but refused to stop. You saw starts and could only chant his name. It turned you on how hard he was trying to fertilize you.
-You were so turned on from how excitable he was to start a family with you.
*****
-William recognized who the brat was instantly when his wife described the boy to him.
-Not even a month ago he had stuffed its corpse into one of his believed robots.
-And now his dumbass wife was gullible enough to mistake it for a real child and let him breed her over it.
-William was drunk with power, feeling like a God among men. He was able to do whatever he wanted, there were no consequences for any of his actions.
-He held nothing back this time while fucking his wife. The dumb cunt was so cock drunk that he could have done anything to her and she would still be praising him for it.
-An insane expression distorted his face as he repeatedly slammed into her. His adrenaline allowed for hi to shot load after load into her eager womb.
-William got to claim her as his own, just from this one night she would have to be dependent on him for nine months. He owned this bitch.
-Madness poured off of him in waves, his delusions were all encompassing. Animalistic instincts took over and he could feel another orgasm build as he pounded into his wife.
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