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sirxaibs · 1 month ago

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Batfamily X Batmom! Reader

ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ Someone Thought Of Meཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ

I feel like Tim has very little love. So how does he feel in a family thats so weird?

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Timmy timothy tim likes to journal his problems

ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ Journal entry- Shes always there. Written from the point of view of Tim Drake. In Tim Drakes Journal. Which Is my journal… Tim Drake… because it’s my journal?

When people think of Bruce Wayne, they think of Gotham’s crowned prince brooding, rich, charming in a suit. Maybe they even think of Batman if you’re one of the few people that actually know him, the knight in Kevlar, Gotham’s relentless protector. They forget, more often than not, that behind the cowl is just a guy made of jagged edges. The kind that can cut even the people he cares about most.

But her?

She was warmth. A reporter with fire in her blood and sharp questions at her lips. That’s how Bruce met her chasing down a story she didn’t know he was part of yet. She wasn’t intimidated by his name or the shadows that followed him. And when she found out he was Batman, she didn’t run. She pivoted. She didn’t want to be used by the Gotham Gazette to milk a headline about their relationship. So she left. Started something new. Told the stories of villains not to glorify them, but to show their truth. The people they used to be. The cracks that made them break. That was her power.

I didn’t meet her until later, of course. But I always knew of her. I still stayed with my parents at the time and since she stayed at the mansion i never really saw her. she was the one everyone talked about. Not just in passing, but with reverence. Even Bruce, in his own quiet way, would drop her name like it meant safety. And to Dick and Jason? She wasn’t just a stepmom, or “Bruce’s wife.” She was Mom.

Dick talks about her like she’s the sun. When he visits he always visits, at least once a week no matter where he is you can see it. How his whole face lights up just stepping into the manor and hearing her voice from the kitchen. You’d think he was back in the circus and just found his net again.

“She used to stay up for me, no matter what time patrol ended,” he told me once. “I’d come in through the balcony, boots muddy, bruised up, sometimes bleeding and she’d be in the kitchen heating soup. Always that look on her face like I’d just come back from war. Never lectured me like Bruce. Never told me to be more careful. Just… held me. Like that fixed everything.”

Dick never stopped calling her “Mom.” Not even during the rough years when Bruce pushed him too hard. Not when he moved out. Not when the Batcave felt colder than the Gotham River in winter. If anything, she was the reason he kept coming back.

When she got that small publishing deal to write about Harvey Dent’s past, Dick flew back from Blüdhaven just to take her out to dinner. No press, no big celebration. Just a booth by the window at her favorite Thai place and a bouquet that barely fit through the door. He said he owed her everything. “I don’t care if I’m not hers by blood,” he told me once. “That woman taught me how to hold on to who I am, even when everything else was falling apart.”

Then theres my other older brother. Jason’s love is different. It’s quieter.

Harder to see unless you’re looking close. He’s not good at the soft stuff. Not anymore. But with her, he tries. He never says “I love you.” I don’t think I’ve ever heard the words leave his mouth. But he’s always fixing stuff around her house. Not the manor her place, the little brownstone Bruce bought her because she hated the echo of the mansion. The place with the bookshelf she filled herself, the mismatched mugs, the heavy desk where she does her interviews. Jason comes by when she’s out running errands. Patches the leaky sink. Replaces the light in the hallway. Leaves a bag of her favorite tea on the counter. No note. No credit. But she always knows it’s him.

“She used to sit on the fire escape with me,” he told me once, when we were staking out some arms deal in the Narrows. “I’d be pissed off at Bruce, just raging. And she’d just sit there. Didn’t ask questions. Didn’t talk me out of it. Just sat and sometimes smoked a cigarette. One time I cried. Don’t remember why. But she didn’t flinch. Just put her hand on my back. Stayed until I fell asleep.”

He’d die before saying it out loud, but I think in a way… he’s more hers than he ever was Bruce’s. And when he came back when he was the Red Hood and he was full of grief and rage and bullets she was the only one who hugged him. Everyone else flinched. Even Bruce. But she opened the door, saw what he’d become, and said, “You look like hell, baby. Come inside.” And he did.

I remember the first time I met her. Bruce had just taken me in. I was still flinching every time he walked into the room, still unsure if I belonged in this broken, stitched up family. And then she walked in breezy and fierce, like she’d just come off a battlefield with coffee in one hand and her phone in the other. “You must be Tim,” she said, giving me a once over like she could see right through to my spine. “You eat?”

I hadn’t. She fixed a plate, sat with me, asked me about everything except my parents. I had just lost them at the time and that’s when I got it. Why Dick lights up around her. Why Jason will move heaven and earth to fix her sink. She’s home. Not the kind with walls and Wi-Fi. The kind with presence. With knowing how to say just the right thing without ever saying too much. With safety, and warmth, and late night soup and hair ruffles and sitting on fire escapes even when the kid next to you’s got blood on his boots. I think that’s why even Bruce… softens around her. She’s the one person who makes him feel safe.

When she got her first daughter, you can tell something changed in her. Cass didn’t talk much. Not in the early days. She was quiet in the way shadows were quiet always there, always watching, always slipping through cracks without a sound. Most people assumed she just didn’t want to talk. Or couldn’t. But I saw it different.

Cass spoke just not with her mouth. She spoke with her hands, her eyes, the way she’d tense or soften when you entered a room. But with her? With Mom?

Cass bloomed.

She’d lean on her shoulder when they sat on the couch. She’d grab her hand subtle, small, but full of meaning and lead her to the garden out back just to sit in the sun. I watched Cass laugh once, like actually laugh, cheeks lifted and eyes crinkled. I didn’t even know she could laugh like that. But it was because Mom had made some dumb joke about a rogue penguin at the zoo stealing someone’s purse. Cas used to flinch at affection. Now, she hugged her. Without hesitation. Leaned into her side. Signed things with soft smiles and the rare, quiet “Love you,” if no one else was around. She didn’t even say that to Bruce. Not really. But Mom? Mom got everything.

She knew how to talk to her. Never pressed. Never coddled. Just existed beside her with a kind of understanding that didn’t require words. I think Cass clung to that someone who didn’t need her to be anything but herself. Someone who didn’t treat her like a porcelain weapon. I’d never seen Cass so… safe. So full.

Then there was Damian. God. When Bruce brought him to the manor, I thought maybe we’d finally seen the worst of it. Turns out a ten year old assassin with an ego the size of Arkham was the cherry on top.

From the minute Damian showed up, he was a walking migraine. Arrogant. Condescending. Entitled in the way only someone born and bred to believe they were superior could be. But the worst part? He was cruel to her.

Not in the loud, tantrum way kids can be cruel. No. Damian was sharp. Precise. Calculated. His insults were surgical targeted and clean like a blade to the gut. “I don’t see the point in you,” he said once, arms crossed in the foyer, looking her dead in the eye. “You’re not my mother. You’ll never be her. Father had real women in his life before you.”

It wasn’t the first time he said it. Wouldn’t be the last. she….God, she just took it. Not because she agreed. Not because she was weak. But because that’s who she is. She let him be angry. Let him lash out. Let him burn himself on her because she knew what was underneath it all. But I saw it. I saw the way her shoulders slumped when she turned away. The way she stirred her tea a little too long in the kitchen. The way she lingered in front of Bruce’s old pictures of Talia that he put up for Damien. didn’t touch them, didn’t say anything, but looked like someone standing in a war zone, wondering if the ruins were prettier than she’d ever be. She never said it aloud. Never asked if she measured up. But we all knew the weight she carried. Bruce’s past wasn’t just shadows it was legacies. Legacies she was never meant to compete with. And Damian made sure she felt that.

I don’t know when that started to change. Maybe when she helped patch him up after his first solo patrol and didn’t say a word about the busted ribs. Maybe when she sat in the library and helped him with his handwriting because even deadly assassins have messy cursive. Or maybe it was when she found his sketchbook. hid it from everyone else, never mentioned it, just left him new pencils on his desk with a quiet, “You’re very talented.”

He stopped being so sharp after that. Still rude. Still Damian. But less… venomous. Like the poison had burned itself out and he was left kind of confused by the fact that she was still there. Because she always was. For all of us.

And then there’s me. The extra. The late one. I was never brought in because Bruce wanted to be a father. I was brought in because I figured out his secrets and then wormed my way into the cave, into the suit, into the family. I don’t know if I was ever really meant to be here. Not the way the others were. Me? I had parents. Not great ones. But they were there… until they weren’t. I didn’t grow up in an alley, or a pit, or the League. Sometimes I wonder if that’s why I feel so… replaceable. But she never made me feel that way. She saw me. She knew I overworked myself. Knew I never slept. Knew I spiraled when I wasn’t useful. And instead of pushing me to be better or telling me to slow down, she just… met me where I was. Once, I found a note in my backpack. Folded between mission plans.

“Youre the most amazing boy that i know, You my boy are going to do amazing things. I love you so much!!”

I never told her I found it. But I kept it. Still have it, tucked into my journal like armor.

I don’t know if any of us would’ve survived this family without her. Bruce taught us how to fight. How to fall and get back up. But she taught us how to rest. How to breathe. How to love without blood and history binding us. She fixed all of us. Bit by bit. Even when we didn’t know we were breaking. I don’t feel broken enough to deserve that kind of care. But she gave it anyway. Because that’s who she is. Because she was always there.

I heard her once, talking on the phone to someone. Maybe a friend. Maybe a source. “They’re not mine by blood,” she said. “But God help the world if they ever needed me. I’d burn down Gotham to protect any one of them.” That’s when I knew she meant me, too. if I had to tell this story about the Batfamily, about the ones who wear masks and hide pain and throw themselves into the fire night after night I’d start with her. Because Batman might have saved Gotham but she saved us.

ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ

Tim closes the journal with a soft thump, fingers lingering on the worn leather cover. His hand hovers just a second longer before pulling away. The room feels too quiet now like his thoughts are echoing louder without the scratch of his pen to distract him.

He pushes the chair back, the legs creaking on the old hardwood floors, and stands. His back cracks. How long had he been writing? Hours maybe. It’s dark out, the kind of heavy Gotham dark that presses against the windows like it wants in. The manor groans quietly in the silence, pipes murmuring and the wind brushing tree branches against the windows like fingers tapping to be let inside.

He walks out of his room, bare feet soft on the carpet as he pads through the hallway. The air feels heavier at night in the manor. Like all the ghosts that live in the walls are finally breathing.

I turned the corner after walking mindlessly and stared. There you were.

Back facing towards me, wearing one of those oversized, faded shirts Bruce always swore he didn’t miss. Standing in front of the stove, hair pulled up, humming something under your breath as you stirred with a wooden spoon like you were crafting alchemy and not just soup. And beside you, leaning against the counter, arms folded but eyes softer than I’d seen in weeks. Jason. He wasn’t wearing his jacket. Which was rare. His boots were off. Rarer. And he was smiling. Not the cocky half grin he used when he was about to pick a fight, but something quieter. Warmer. Something like a son sitting in the only place in the world where he felt safe.

You said something to him I couldn’t hear what but you reached up on your toes and smoothed his hair out of his eyes like he was five. He rolled his eyes, said something sarcastic, but didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned into it. that was when Alfred walked by, hands behind his back, chin tilted slightly in amusement as he passed me. “You know the rule, Master Timothy,” he said, low enough not to disturb the moment in the kitchen. “She is the only one allowed in there. The rest of you have forfeited that right after the last… incident.”

I groaned.

“That was Damian’s fault,” I hissed back.

He raised a brow. “Was it Damian’s idea to flambé a Pop Tart?”

“Okay. Fine. That part might’ve been me.”

It was one of our dumbest ideas maybe not the dumbest, but it’s a crowded race. It started with a challenge. Damian, fresh off a smug streak and newly obsessed with culinary documentaries, claimed that my “American palate” had “eroded my taste and motor skills.” I told him I could cook circles around him. Neither of us could cook.

It escalated quickly. An Iron Chef style duel. Secret ingredient: eggs. Only, I dropped mine. Three times. Damian misread the baking powder as flour. Then I panicked and tried to “smoke” the scrambled eggs for flavor using a packet of incense from the guest room and a lighter.

Within ten minutes, the fire alarm was going off, Alfred had activated the emergency sprinklers, and the kitchen looked like something between a crime scene and a culinary apocalypse. Mom was the one to find us.

Standing soaked, flour covered, blinking through smoke. Damian holding a spatula like a sword. Me covered in what I hoped was yolk. You didn’t yell. That’s the worst part. You just… looked at us. Long and hard. Then let out a breath, pinched the bridge of your nose, and said, “Alfred, I assume this is why you told me to ban them from the kitchen.”

“Indeed, madam,” he replied grimly.

And that was that. Kitchen rights revoked. Except for you. Always you.

Now I stood there in the hallway, watching you and Jason from the doorway, unseen. He was telling you about something he saw on patrol a gang trying to smuggle rare books, of all things. You were laughing, that full body laugh that makes your shoulders shake and your eyes close, like the world could still be beautiful if you just tried hard enough. And Jason?

He was drinking it in. Like he’d been starved of this kind of love for years. Ever since he came back, you were different around him. Not overly careful like Bruce. Not tense like some of us had been. You just loved him. Loudly. Freely. kisses to the temple, touching his shoulders like you had to convince yourself he was still solid. Like you had to remind him that he was still wanted. Jason never said it but he melted under it. His edges dulled. His anger slipped. When you held him, when you gave him that smile that said “you’re home,” he softened. He belonged.

I swallowed hard. Stepped back, just a bit. Let the shadows take me. Because I’d never had that. Not in the same way. You loved me I knew that. But it wasn’t the same kind of fierce, smothering love. And maybe that was fair. I wasn’t broken in the way Jason was. Not born in blood like Damian. Not carved out of grief like Dick. Not silenced like Cass.

I was just… me. Smart. Quiet. Stable, mostly. I’d always felt like a thread sewn into someone else’s tapestry. Useful. Strong, even. But not the reason anyone stayed warm. in moments like this seeing Jason melt under your hands, seeing you pour every ounce of your soul into making him feel alive I couldn’t help but wonder if I was ever going to fit here. So I stepped away from the kitchen door.

ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ

The house was quiet again. The kind of quiet that only happens after everyone’s gone to bed or pretended to. I was curled up in the corner of the library, one leg slung over the arm of the chair, a thick old book cracked open across my lap. It wasn’t for patrol or mission planning. Just something to read. Something to fill the quiet so I didn’t have to think too much.

It was peaceful, until muffled voices filled the room. I blinked, tilting my head just enough to catch the low murmur threading in from the hallway. At first, I thought maybe Bruce had wandered into the Batcave again, but then I heard my moms voice. Whispering like someone trying not to wake a sleeping baby. Bruce responded, and you both laughed, low and secretive. I rolled my eyes and went back to my page.

I stopped caring about that kind of thing a long time ago. You and Bruce were always, in a word, gross about each other. Not the clingy, PDA gross… well yes the clingy PDA way but the kind where he’d brush your cheek mid conversation like it was instinct. Or the way you’d make him coffee without asking, and he’d pass you reports to look at because he trusted your opinion more than the board’s. It was… sincere. Intimate. Kind of annoying, honestly, when you were trying to eat cereal and Bruce kissed your temple like it was some kind of reflex.

But it was comforting too. Something solid. I was just starting to lose myself in the book again when

“Boo.”

“GAH!”

I launched the book about a foot into the air and nearly twisted my entire spine trying to figure out what demon had possessed the room. My heart rocketed into my throat as I whipped around, hand halfway to a batarang that wasn’t even on me. You stood there, grinning ear to ear.

“Tim,” you cooed, covering your mouth to stifle a laugh, “you should’ve seen your face oh my god, I think you levitated.”

“I almost hit you with Tolstoy!” I hissed, breath still catching up to my body. “Don’t sneak up on a guy in this house! I was ready to throw hands with a ghost.”

“Well,” you teased, “if it was a ghost, you’d be the only one I’d trust to outsmart it.”

I gave you a flat look, still massaging my neck. You sobered a little, stepping forward and tapping the top of my head gently. “Come on, kiddo. There’s something we want to show you. In the dining room.”

I blinked. “We?”

“I’m here too,” came Bruce’s voice from the hallway, in that terrible deep gravel whisper he clearly thought was somehow sneaky. You and I both turned to look at him as he peeked around the corner, trying very hard and failing to look inconspicuous.

I squinted at him. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he said too quickly.

You sighed and gently smacked his chest. “Why are you like this?”

“I’m building intrigue,” Bruce said with what I assumed was supposed to be a straight face. “It’s part of the plan”

“You’re ruining the surprise,” you whispered, dragging a hand down your face.

“There’s a surprise?” I asked slowly, eyes darting between the two of you.

Bruce’s expression didn’t change, but I could see the micro tension in his brow. He was lying. For the world’s greatest detective, the man couldn’t lie to his children to save his life. Every time he tried, he got this weird stiffness, like someone who’d never used human emotions before. You groaned again and took my wrist gently. “Come on. Just come to the dining room. Please?”

I stood up slowly, abandoning my book on the chair. “What’s going on?” I asked again, warier now. “Is this, like… an intervention? Did Damian break into the Tower again?”

“Nope.”

“Did Jason get arrested for vigilante loitering?”

“Not this week.”

“Are you going to make me touch grass?”

You snorted. “God, no.”

I sighed. “Alright. But if this is a trap, I want it on record that i died saying my parents were weird.”

Bruce just grunted. So I followed them. These two weird, overly affectionate, semi cryptic parents of mine one with crows’ feet from smiling too much and the other still pretending he didn’t smile at all. Down the hallway. Toward the dining room. Still completely, utterly confused.

The hallway to the dining room wasn’t long. It just felt long. Partially because Bruce was still trying to act like this wasn’t suspicious at all, and you kept elbowing him in the ribs every few steps. Partially because my nerves were starting to twitch under my skin. mostly because I could hear whisper yelling coming from the dining room.

“I said put the banner up, not strangle the chandelier with it!”

“That wasn’t me! It was Damian! He climbed up there!”

“I was fixing your poor attempt at symmetry, Grayson!”

“Why is the pie we made lopsided Jason what did you do to the pie?”

“It’s good. Shut up.”

“You burned it.”

“I call it caramelized flavor.”

“…It smells like regret.”

“Can someone…. Cass, what are you doing with the glitter glue?!”

“Decoration.”

I paused just outside the door and looked up at Bruce and you with raised eyebrows. You just smiled softly and gave a little shrug, while Bruce tried to maintain whatever shred of dignity he had left. It wasn’t working.

You both looked so stupidly in love standing like that his arm around your waist, yours looped casually around his. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like this was normal. Like this whatever chaos was waiting behind the doors was ours.

Bruce leaned in toward the doorframe like he was assessing a mission room, and I swear I saw his eye twitch.

“I gave them very simple instructions,” he muttered.

You patted his chest. “Your children are as smart and emotionally constipated as their dad”

The door swung open before anyone could knock. Dick stood there with his usual too big grin and remnants of glitter on his cheek like war paint. “Timmy! You’re late to your own surprise party!”

“It’s not my birthday?”

“Not that kind of surprise party!” he said, reaching out to drag me in with too much enthusiasm. “It’s Appreciation Day!”

“That’s… not a real holiday.”

“Sure it is,” said Jason, appearing from behind a mess of mismatched plates and aluminum foil wrapped disasters. “We just made it real. Sit down, Nerd Boy.”

Cass waved from the head of the table with a little toothy smile. Damian was on a chair next to her, arms crossed, already pouting like he hadn’t been helping just ten minutes ago.

The table was atrocious like someone had thrown a home economics final exam and a kindergarten arts and crafts project into a blender. The centerpiece was a crooked sign that said “WE APPRECIATE YOU” in bold, messy handwriting (clearly Dick’s). There was glitter on everything. The cups didn’t match. The pie looked like it’d been in a fight. it was perfect. All of it.

Dishes were stacked, uneven and mismatched. Cookies were slightly burnt on one side. Jason’s so called “caramelized” pie was visibly cracked. Cass had made what looked like finger sandwiches shaped into little bats. Even Damian had contributed begrudgingly with a plate of sliced fruit that had been carved into vaguely threatening shapes.

And in the middle of it all was a small card in your handwriting.

Tim,

We know things have been hard.

We know it sometimes feels like you’re overlooked.

But you’re not. Not here.

You’re brilliant. You’re loved. You’re ours.

Love,

Your Family (a bunch of idiots, but yours)

I couldn’t speak. Not really. Because what was there to say? This… this wasn’t some big show. It wasn’t polished. It wasn’t perfect. But it was real. it was for me. I glanced down the table.

Dick was beaming and already scooting over to make room for me. Jason was pretending not to look at me too hard, but his expression was softer than usual. Cass gave me a small nod, the kind that said more than words. Damian looked away when our eyes met but I could see the tiniest hint of awkward approval in the way he pushed a napkin toward the empty seat beside him. I took it. Quietly. Still blinking a little too fast. I didn’t cry. I didn’t. But I felt it thick in my chest. That weight. That feeling. Because my biological parents had never done anything like this. They didn’t see me, not really. I was a project. A prodigy. An obligation. But you and Bruce, in his awkward gruff way you saw me. You made this happen. I looked up once more and saw you and Bruce still standing near the door. Arms still around each other. Watching. Bruce’s eyes met mine. He gave the smallest nod. You just smiled. I mattered here. not always loudly. not in the same way the others did. But I mattered. And this this was home.

545 notes · View notes

luveline · 8 months ago

Note

hii 🤍 i miss spencer, amanda and reader 🥺 when will reader and spencer finally kiss?? hahahah

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.2k

Amanda’s dad has a girlfriend with a kind mouth that curls in smiles, like seeing her is the one thing you’ve waited for all day. You have slow hands: your fingers ease through Amy’s hair one strand at a time, warm, but somehow shivers race down her spine whenever you touch her. You’re like her dad, in that you kiss her cheek before bed or hug her with one arm. You’re a gentle touch whenever Amy wants it. You and Spencer are both enthusiastically tactile.

What Amy doesn’t understand is why you and her dad never seem to kiss. Amy isn’t sure if she wants to see it. She hasn’t thought of it in depth, just knows that you and Spencer are both grown ups who love one another —Spencer looks to you in every room, his eyes squinting against the sight of you like you’re some star, a sun, bright and blistering and too beautiful to look away. It’s like a movie. Plus, Amy wants a stepmom. Paula from school has one and she says it’s awesome.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?” Spencer’s voice echoes, head deep inside a cabinet looking for a can of evaporated milk. “We don’t buy enough canned stuff. We’d be screwed in the apocalypse.”

“I like fresh.”

“Of course you do. You’re brilliant.”

“Brilliant,” you echo, legs swinging against the cabinet behind your legs. You hold the door to prevent Spencer’s likely head injury.

“Dad?” Amy asks again.

He pulls his head from the empty cabinet to appease her. “I know, I’m looking for the hot cocoa powder.”

“That’s not what I want to ask.”

“Oh. Well, what do you want from me, angel?”

You choose that moment to hop down off of the counter top, phone in hand. “I’ll be right back,” you promise, leaving with no further explanation.

It’s good timing. Amy crowds her dad to look up at him, a reflection of her brown eyes peering down at her curiously. He cups the back of her head. “What, Amy?” he asks.

He says her name nicely, too. Amy is bathed in love, all the time, but it never gets any less warming. She wraps her arms around his thighs and rubs her nose against his stomach, cuddling into him.

He’s patient, but not unaware. “What do you want, beautiful?” he murmurs, fingers scratching gently up his scalp and through her hair, soft ends of it fluttering down onto her shoulders. He repeats the motion. “I’m listening.”

“Why don’t you and Y/N ever kiss?”

He laughs softly. “Why are you asking me a question like that?”

“You’re boyfriend and girlfriend, but you don’t kiss or anything. Do you?”

Spencer holds her face, more fingers in her hair than anything on account of her small head. “No, we don’t kiss,” he says, like it’s a secret, but a good one. Amy’s confused squinting makes him laugh again. “Um… just, it’s not easy to explain, but we’re taking things slowly. That means that we like one another, but we’re not rushing to do things we aren’t ready for.”

“You’re not ready to kiss her?” Amy asks.

“Maybe not.” Spencer doesn’t share that you aren’t completely ready either, far as he’s aware. This is a big thing for both of you, months of deep pining, a fragility. “It’s not because I don’t want to.”

“She’s really pretty. I think you should hurry, just in case someone else likes her.”

Spencer hugs her to his tummy and gives her a squeeze. “She’s beautiful like someone else I know. And I will kiss her, I’m waiting for the right time.”

Amy forgets about what she’d been asking after that, charmed and then ferried to her room to get dressed. We’ll have to go out for cocoa, Spencer had said, bundling her in a big coat. You were all to happy to put your shoes on and join them, Spencer’s borrowed scarf shielding your neck and jaw, your nose quickly sniffly against the cold.

Amy takes your hand on the way into the cafe and savours the warmth of it. She will need to concoct the right time, she decides, for her dad to kiss you, if only so she can be a flower girl at your wedding. If you get married (if your wedding ceremony even has flower girls). She’s just thinking maybe she’ll be the maid of honour when you push out a chair for her. She settles in, wondering if you’d like flowers, what sort of clothes you’d wear, if you’d come live with them in the apartment, sipping at a procured, thick hot chocolate while you and Spencer chat.

“Half?” he asks, knife poised over a pastry.

“I already ate all mine.”

“That’s not what I asked.” He cuts the pastry in half and offers it to you, a red and golden brown mini pie, fruit glistening in its jelly, flaky salt on the top that tumbles off the edges as he passes it to you. “Here.”

You take a big bite. You smile so much you can hardly chew.

Spencer stares at you.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

You have fruit on your lip. Your genuine puzzlement is all the more enticing: how is Spencer supposed to look away? He hooks his ankle around a leg from your chair and draws closer.

“You know, I heard you earlier.”

“When?” he asks.

“Before we left. You were telling Amy that you think I’m pretty.”

“No, Amy said pretty, I said beautiful. I should’ve said perfect.”

“That so?” you tease.

Spencer has to wonder what’s beneath it. Kiss me, kiss me. Lean over and do it, Reid. Or if he hears what he wants from your lilting mouth. “I’m sure there’s a hundred words I should’ve said.”

“You don’t have to say anything else,” you say decidedly, your hands falling to his knee, “that’s enough flattery for today.”

“Is it?”

“You sound entirely genuine,” you say, voice turning soft now, a padded thing to think about later.

“I am,” he says. Simply, and hopelessly, leaning in to breathe the same air.

“Is now the right time?” you whisper.

“You heard that?” he asks back.

“I’m ready whenever you’re ready.”

Spencer chances a glance at Amy where she’s ripping at the paper sleeve on her hot chocolate before he holds your arm to kiss you. A chaste, brushing touch, pressure of a butterfly’s wing at first and then marginally firmer. He kisses you, and he pulls away just as your bringing your hand to his cheek.

“Was that okay?” he asks.

“Very princely.”

“So you're getting married, right?” Amy butts in, her smile a thousand watts. “Yes? Can I choose the flowers? Can we go on a honeymoon?”

Spencer flushes at the idea of Amy seeing him, but then he feels sick thinking about such a short first kiss, covering the side of your face with his hand to occlude his lips as he moves in and gives you another.

“Dad, one was enough.” Amy’s concern is grouching, and it makes you laugh against his mouth.

You both pull away. “Sorry, Amy,” Spencer says, “but you did tell me to hurry up.”

“Yikes. Can I have some pie?”

Spencer hands her his uneaten half. You search for his hand under the table.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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meazalykov · 6 months ago

Text

mother who stepped up

stepmom!lena oberdorf x mom!reader

summary: lena accepts you, and the mini-you

warnings: one mention of death, nothing too impactful to the story though. very long fic

you’ve never been one for surprises. your life, at least recently, has been built on carefully crafted routines, ensuring that your two-year-old daughter, macy, is comfortable and happy.

dating? it was something you thought would come much later—if at all. after coming to terms with your sexuality, you didn’t want to date unti you were reassured that you’d be with the right woman for your daughter.

here you are, sitting across from lena oberdorf, a suggestion from your well-meaning friends, and even though you like her, there’s something you or your mutual friends haven’t told her yet.

everything had been going smoothly with lena from the start. she was charming, funny, flirtatious, and made you feel seen in ways you hadn’t felt in a long time.

you didn’t think you could get used to someone so effortlessly, but somehow, lena just fit into your life—except for that one secret you hadn’t yet shared.

you’re sitting across from lena at a cozy café, sipping your coffee and listening to her talk about her game against wolfsburg– a club she played many years ago.

it’s easy to get lost in the sound of lena’s voice, the way her eyes light up when she talks about football. you nod along, smiling as she recounts a funny moment from practice.

for a while, everything feels perfect—simple, like your lives are in sync. in the back of your mind, you know you will have to tell her about macy. the little mini-you that is currently coloring in her daycare class across munich.

the conversation shifts to lighter topics, and you pull out your phone to check a notification.

you sit your phone flat on the table and as you’re about to lock the screen, lena leans in, catching a glimpse of the photo that displays on both your home and lock screen.

your heart skips a beat when you realize what she’s seeing—macy, her chubby little cheeks, dimples, and wild curls staring back at you from the lock screen.

lena’s brow furrows slightly, curiosity flickering across her face.

“aweee who’s that?” she asks, her tone casual but with a hint of intrigue.

you freeze for a second, unsure how to respond.

here we go, you think, heart pounding. swallowing hard, you try to brush it off with a light chuckle.

“oh, that’s little macy.”

lena tilts her head, staring at the screen for a moment longer before locking eyes with you.

“macy?” she echoes. “is she… your niece or something? she looks just like you.” she smiles, clearly finding the resemblance cute.

you force a small smile, feeling your throat tighten. this is it—the moment you’ve been dreading.

“uh, no… she’s not my niece.”

“oh,” lena says, looking at you, then back at the picture.

“then, what, a cousin? a friend’s kid?”

you can see her mind working, trying to make sense of it. your fingers tighten around the edge of your phone, and you finally decide to rip the band-aid off.

“she’s my daughter….”

lena’s eyes widen, her gaze darting back to the screen, then to you. her lips part in surprise, but she doesn’t say anything right away. she stares at the lock screen as if seeing it for the first time, really seeing it.

“your daughter?” she repeats softly, almost like she’s processing the words.

you nod, feeling the anxiety rising in your chest.

“yeah. she’s turning two in a few months. macy’s my little girl.”

for a long moment, lena just looks at the photo, her expression unreadable. you watch as her gaze flickers between the image of macy and you, comparing the two of you.

“she… she looks just like you,” lena murmurs, her voice almost in awe.

“i thought she was you for a second, like, as a baby.”

you let out a small, nervous laugh, trying to keep the mood light despite the tension knotting in your stomach.

“yeah, she’s basically my mini-me. she’s got my nose and everything.”

lena doesn’t seem to hear your attempt at humor. instead, her brow furrows deeper as she studies the photo.

“wait, she’s… really your daughter? like, you have a kid?”

you bite your lip, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you.

“yeah, she’s mine. i know i should’ve told you sooner, but…” you trail off, not knowing how to explain the complexity of it all.

“but why didn’t you?” lena asks, her tone still soft, but there’s something raw in her voice—an undercurrent of emotion that you can’t quite place.

you glance down at your coffee, swirling it absentmindedly. “i didn’t know how,” you admit.

“i didn’t want to scare you off. most people aren’t exactly thrilled about dating someone with a kid.”

lena leans back in her chair, processing what you’ve said. “you thought i’d be scared off because you’re a mom?”

you shrug, feeling a little defensive but mostly scared. “it’s happened before,” you say quietly.

“people hear ‘single mom,’ and they run for the hills. i just… didn’t want that to happen again.”

lena is quiet for a moment, her eyes still on the picture of macy. she seems to be absorbing everything, and you can’t help but hold your breath, waiting for her to say something—anything.

“is the father around?” lena says her thoughts out loud.

“oh no no no. um– he didn’t want anything to do with macy. he also passed away shortly after mae turned one. her father and i were never together or even had feelings for eachother– it was just um..” you trail.

“i’m very sorry about that.” lena says, looking up at you before looking back to the photo of your little daughter.

“oh no don’t apologize.” you say.

there's a pause for a few minutes. its clear that you wanted to switch the topic away from macy’s biological father, who wanted nothing to do with her before his passing anyways.

lena looks up at you, giving your phone back with her expression softening.

“you’d thought i’d run?” lena asks, a small, incredulous smile playing on her lips.

“because of this? because of her?”

you shrug again, not trusting yourself to speak. all your worst fears are bubbling to the surface, and you can’t shake the feeling that this might be the moment it all falls apart.

lena reaches across the table, taking your hand gently in hers.

“y/n, she’s beautiful,” she says, her voice sincere. “i mean, she really is a little version of you.”

you blink, the words not sinking in right away. “you… you’re not mad?” you ask, your voice trembling just slightly.

lena shakes her head, squeezing your hand. “no, i’m not mad. i just… wish you’d told me sooner. i know we’ve only been official for a week but–” she pauses, her thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“i get why you didn’t, but… i’m not going anywhere. i like you. and now that i know about macy… i like her too. even if we haven’t met yet.”

the relief that washes over you is almost overwhelming, and you feel your eyes welling up. you’ve been bracing yourself for rejection, for lena to tell you this was too much for her.

though here she is, sitting across from you, holding your hand, and telling you that she’s not going anywhere.

“you’re really okay with this?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“more than okay,” lena says, her voice firm but kind.

“you’re a mom. that’s a part of who you are, and that’s okay with me.”

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart finally starting to settle.

“thank you,” you whisper, blinking back the tears. “you don’t know how much that means to me coming from you.”

lena smiles, giving your hand one last squeeze before letting go. “so, when do i get to meet this little mini-you?” she asks with a teasing grin.

you chuckle softly, wiping at the corner of your eye. “soon. i just… didn’t want to spring her on you right away.”

“well, now that i know about her,” lena says, leaning back with a playful smirk, “i feel like i’m the one being kept a secret from macy.”

you laugh, the tension between you finally breaking. “i guess we’ll have to fix that soon.”

lena grins, taking another sip of her coffee. “i’m looking forward to it.”

the next day– lena doesn’t text much. you know that she is busy training at bayern but anxiety consumes you.

your thoughts spiral. maybe she changed her mind and realized that it was too much for her. maybe she’s having second thoughts.

by mid-afternoon, you’re glued to your phone while macy is with her aunt (your sister), checking for any sign from her.

nothing comes, and your heart sinks.

as you’re picking macy up from your sisters, your phone finally buzzes. lena’s name flashes across the screen, and you almost drop your keys in your hurry to check it.

lena: hey, can we talk later? i’ve been thinking a lot.

you stare at the message, panic clawing at your chest. thinking doesn’t sound good. you force yourself to respond.

you: sure. what time?

the reply is almost instant.

lena: i can come over tonight?

you hesitate. having her over… that means she’ll meet macy, and you’re not sure if you’re ready for that yet. you also know you can’t keep her at arm’s length forever. you type back quickly.

you: yes, come at 7.

you spend the rest of the afternoon trying not to overthink it.

as soon as macy is fed and bathed, your nerves start creeping back. you’re pacing the living room, glancing at the clock, when the doorbell rings.

macy, sitting on the couch with her stuffed miffy bunny and fluffy blanket, perks up.

“mama, door!”

you smile, ruffling her hair.

“stay here, baby,” you say softly, walking to the door.

you open it, and there she is—lena, standing on your doorstep wearing a black outfit along with a grey beanie, looking as unsure as you feel.

“hey,” she says, giving you a small smile.

“hey,” you reply, stepping aside to let her in. you’re about to close the door when macy toddles over, clutching her miffy bunny in her small hands. lena’s eyes immediately land on her, and she smiles.

“this must be macy,” lena says, her tone soft and warm.

you nod, watching as macy stares up at lena with her wide (reader’s color) eyes.

“yeah, this is her.”

lena crouches down to macy’s level, holding out her hand. “hey, macy. i’m lena.”

macy looks at you for reassurance before shyly reaching out to shake lena’s hand.

“miffy bunny,” she says, showing off her stuffed toy.

lena chuckles softly. “that’s a cool bunny.”

you watch the exchange, your heart swelling with something you hadn’t expected. lena looks so natural with macy, and it’s a sight you weren’t prepared for.

you clear your throat, trying to shake off the wave of emotion.

“so, um, you said you wanted to talk?” you ask, motioning for lena to follow you to the couch.

she nods, standing up and giving macy one last smile before sitting beside you. macy toddles back to the couch, climbing up and sitting between your legs, still clutching her bunny as her small arms hug your waist.

“yeah,” lena says, glancing between you and macy. “i’ve been thinking a lot since last night.”

you nod slowly, waiting for the bomb to drop.

“i know this is a lot,” she continues, her voice gentle but steady.

“and i understand if you’re worried about how i’ll fit into your life, into macy’s life, but… i want to try.”

you blink, taken aback. “you do?”

lena nods, reaching out to gently take your hand.

“yeah. i mean, i didn’t expect this either, but i really like you, y/n. and if macy’s a part of your life, then i want to be a part of that too.”

you sit back, still reeling from the way the conversation unfolded. the tension that had knotted up your stomach starts to loosen, but you can’t help feeling the need to set some boundaries—just to be sure lena knows what this really means.

it’s too early in the relationship to assume anything, and you don’t want to put any pressure on her, especially when it comes to macy.

taking a deep breath, you meet lena’s eyes.

“i just want to be clear about something,” you say softly.

“i don’t expect anything from you when it comes to macy. you’re not obligated to her, and i’d never force any duties on you. it’s still really early in our relationship, and i don’t want you to feel like you have to step into a role you’re not ready for. if you just want to date me, that’s okay. i mean it. however i just want you to understand that in a case between you vs. macy– i’ll always choose macy.”

lena watches you closely, her brow furrowing slightly as she listens. she leans forward, resting her arms on the table, and shakes her head gently.

“y/n, you don’t have to put up walls.”

you bite your lip, feeling the weight of her gaze. “i’m not putting up walls,” you explain quietly.

“i just… i want to be fair. macy’s is the biggest part of my life, but she’s my responsibility, not yours. i don’t want you to feel like you have to take on so much at once. i don’t want you to feel trapped.”

lena sits back in her chair, exhaling slowly. her eyes soften as she takes in your words.

“first of all, macy isn’t a trap,” she says firmly, her tone leaving no room for doubt.

“she’s your daughter. i don’t see that as something to run from.”

your heart stumbles at her words, but you try to stay grounded. “but it’s still a lot for you,” you press gently.

“being with me means being with macy too, and that’s a lot to ask of anyone. especially this soon.”

lena reaches across the table again, her hand finding yours, warm and steady. “i get what you’re saying,” she begins, her voice calm but sincere.

“and i appreciate that you don’t want to rush things or put pressure on me. but, y/n, macy is a part of you. she’s part of your life, and if i want to be with you, that means i’m choosing to include her too.”

she squeezes your hand, her eyes locked on yours. “i’m not saying i’m trying to be her mom right away, or that i know how all of this is supposed to work. but i want to figure it out. because macy is important to you, and that makes her important to me.”

your heart swells, and you can feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes again. you hadn’t expected this, not so soon, and certainly not with such certainty in her voice.

it’s like lena had already made the decision in her heart before you even started this conversation.

you blink back the tears, swallowing hard as you nod. “i… i didn’t know if you’d feel that way.”

“of course i do,” lena says softly, her thumb gently brushing the back of your hand.

“i’m not scared off by you being a mom, y/n. it doesn’t make me want this any less.”

you take a shaky breath, overwhelmed by the depth of her words. “i’ve never had anyone say that to me before,” you admit, your voice barely a whisper.

“it’s always been the reason people walk away.”

lena’s eyes soften even more, and she moves her chair closer to you, her hand never leaving yours. “well, i’m not them,” she says simply, her voice steady and sure. “i’m here. and i’m not going anywhere.”

the emotions well up in you, and for a moment, you’re speechless. you look down at your joined hands, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you. she’s serious. she’s really serious.

“thank you,” you finally whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “thank you for… for staying.”

lena smiles, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your temple.

macy, oblivious to the weight of the conversation, leans against your arm, yawning as she starts to doze off.

you glance down at her, then back at lena, your heart full in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

from that moment on, things between you and lena shift. she starts coming over more, spending time not just with you but with macy too.

at first, macy is a little shy around her, but lena is patient, never pushing too hard, just gently easing her way into your daughter’s life. it doesn’t take long before macy is running to the door to greet lena with a grin, her little arms reaching up for a hug.

the first time macy calls her "obi”, your heart skips a beat. it's a simple moment—you're all sitting on the floor of your living room, surrounded by toys, when macy tugs on lena's sleeve, her big eyes looking up at her expectantly.

"obi, play?" she asks, holding out a mermaid barbie.

lena grins, taking the truck from macy. "of course liebe."

watching them together, you can't help but smile. it’s becoming clearer each day—lena’s not just here for you.

she’s here for macy too. sometimes you joke that she is only here for macy.

as the years goes by, lena becomes more and more involved in your life. she starts joining you for bedtime routines, helping with bath time, reading macy her favorite stories as she grows older.

after lena, macy, and you move into an apartment together— lena is for the tantrums, the messy dinners, the sleepless nights. sometimes, she will take the initiative so you can rest. the more time she spends with macy, the more it feels like she belongs in your little family.

three years after the important conversation, your life with lena feels like a dream.

macy is five now, full of energy and curiosity, and lena has been there for all of it—every scraped knee, every preschool recital, every bedtime story. your home is filled with laughter and warmth, the life you never imagined you’d have when you were raising macy on your own.

now, as you sit together on the couch, macy fast asleep in her room, lena leans into you, her fingers tracing patterns on your hand. she’s quiet, more thoughtful than usual, and you can sense something’s on her mind. she glances at the engagement ring on your finger, the same ring you’ve been admiring for months now, and then turns to you with a serious expression.

“i was thinking,” lena says quietly, her voice soft in the dim light.

“about what?” you ask, turning to look at her.

she hesitates for a moment, her hand pausing on your arm. “about macy. and… about us.”

your heart skips a beat, but you keep your voice steady. “what about us?”

“i know it’s still early but…” she says, her voice careful,

you blink, processing her words. “but…?”

she takes a deep breath. “once we get married i’ll be macy’s stepmom. something i’ve been thinking about for a while. however i don’t want to wait until then. i want to be a mom to macy. if you’ll let me.”

the weight of her words settles over you, and for a moment, you’re speechless. you’d always hoped, deep down, that lena would want to be a part of macy’s life, but hearing her say it out loud—it feels overwhelming in the best possible way.

“i know i’m not her biological mom, and i’ll never try to replace that, but… i love her, y/n. i love both of you. and if you’re ready for that, i’d like to be her mom too.”

the tears you’ve been holding back finally spill over, and you reach up to cup her face, your thumb brushing against her cheek. “we’d love that, obi.” you whisper. “we’d love that.” you repeat in awe.

when macy starts calling her “mama lena,” after she turns six– your heart nearly bursts with love.

macy is seven now, and the bond between her and lena has only grown stronger over the years. she clings to lena in a way that sometimes surprises you—like she’s always seeking her approval or comfort.

it’s been that way ever since lena officially adopted her after turning thirty-one, and you and lena got married.

you remember that day so vividly, the moment the judge declared that lena was now macy’s legal mother. the joy on lena’s face, the way macy had leaped into her arms, calling her “mama” with such pure excitement, filled your heart with pride and love.

it wasn’t long after when lena got the call—an offer from chelsea. it was a huge opportunity, one that meant she’d be competing in the women’s super league. after a lot of late-night talks and some serious decision-making, lena accepted the offer, which meant the three of you were moving to london.

the change was exciting, something fresh and new for all of you. macy was thrilled at the idea of living in a new city, and as for you, the thought of starting a new chapter together made you incredibly happy.

in london, lena is the person macy runs to for almost everything. scraped knees, homework help, even just to ask if she can have a snack—lena is her go-to. most days, it fills you with happiness to see them so close, to know that macy has someone who loves her so much.

sometimes, like today, you can’t help but feel a little sting.

you’d been in the middle of getting macy ready for school. she was in a hurry as usual, fidgeting in her seat while you knelt to help her tie her shoes.

before you could finish, she pulled her foot away, laughing. “no, no, mama lena does it better!” she giggled, her bright smile lighting up her face.

you laughed too, even though the words pricked at your heart. “oh, really?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“guess i’ll need to practice, huh?”

macy just grinned, her curls bouncing as she wiggled her toes. “yeah, you should! don’t worry, you’re still good at other stuff!”

you smiled, ruffling her hair. “well, i’m glad i’m still useful for something.”

she giggled again, completely unaware of how her innocent words had stirred something in you.

you shoved the feeling aside quickly, focusing instead on making her laugh as you pretended to dramatically fumble with her shoes. her laughter filled the room, her curls tumbling down her back as she leaned forward in her chair, watching you with bright eyes.

it wasn’t until you were dropping her off at school that the feeling crept back in, like a quiet ache in the pit of your stomach.

it wasn’t that you were jealous—at least, you didn’t think you were. you loved that macy and lena were so close. you’d always hoped that one day macy would have a strong bond with lena, and seeing it unfold so naturally had been like a dream come true.

still, moments like this made you wonder if you were slowly being edged out, if macy was starting to see lena as the “cool” mom while you were just… the other one that happened to look like her.

you tried not to dwell on it too much. lena had been nothing but supportive, always making sure you knew how important you were to both of them. and really, you were happy.

lena had embraced being a mother to macy in every way—going to parent-teacher conferences, staying up late to help with school projects, even helping macy with her football in-between training at chelsea.

that was another thing: football.

macy had recently started showing a serious interest in the sport, much to lena’s delight. she idolized her mama, always asking about drills and tactics, begging to go to practice with her.

one afternoon, after watching one of lena’s games, macy had turned to you both, her eyes wide with excitement.

“i want to play football too!” she’d said, bouncing on her toes.

lena’s face had lit up with pride. “you do, huh? well, we can definitely make that happen.”

since then, lena had been working on getting macy into training, talking to coaches and setting up practice sessions in your backyard. you’d watch them sometimes, lena patiently teaching macy how to pass the ball, how to position herself.

the way macy looked up at lena, so full of admiration, always made you smile. you were thrilled that your daughter had someone like lena to look up to, someone who could teach her the things you never could.

and yet, in the quieter moments, when macy would run to lena after a long day, her arms wrapping tightly around her waist, you couldn’t help but feel a tiny pang of sadness. it wasn’t that macy didn’t love you—she did, of course.

there was something different about the way she clung to lena, like lena was her whole world. you couldn’t blame her. lena was a natural with her, always knowing just the right thing to say or do to make macy feel safe and loved.

you’d catch yourself watching them sometimes, a soft smile on your face as you listened to their conversations, the easy way they communicated without needing to say much. you’d hide your feelings behind a joke, like the time macy had joked about lena being better at making breakfast, and you’d playfully said, “well, guess i’ll just stick to making the coffee then.” macy had laughed, and you’d felt the sting lessen, pushing it to the back of your mind.

around this time, you and lena had started talking more seriously about having another child.

this time, you would carry, using lena’s egg along with a donor. you’d been through a few consultations, and after what felt like a whirlwind of planning and waiting, the IVF procedure was finally successful.

you were pregnant with another little girl.

the joy that filled your heart was indescribable. the idea of adding to your family, of giving macy a sibling, was something you’d dreamed about for so long. and now, with the news confirmed, it was time to tell macy.

you weren’t sure how she’d react—she’d always been so used to being the only one, the center of attention. but you were hopeful that she’d be excited.

one evening, you and lena sat macy down, her favorite blanket draped over her lap as she snuggled on the couch between you. lena’s arm was around your shoulders, her hand resting gently on your belly, already slightly swollen with the new life growing inside.

“munchkin,” lena said softly, looking at macy with a warm smile. “we have some big news for you.”

macy looked up, her curiosity piqued.

“what is it?”

you took a deep breath, smiling as you leaned forward a little. “you’re going to be a big sister, sweetheart.”

macy’s eyes widened, and for a moment, she just stared at you, her mind clearly racing to process what you’d said.

“a big sister?” she repeated, her voice uncertain.

“that’s right,” lena added, squeezing your shoulder gently. “there’s a baby in here.” she gestured to your belly. “a little sister for you.”

macy’s face scrunched up, her expression a mix of confusion and hesitation. “but… i like being the only one,” she admitted, her voice small.

you shared a glance with lena, both of you understanding her hesitation. “we know, sweetheart,” you said gently.

“and you’ll always be our first, our special girl. but having a sister means you’ll have someone to play with, someone who’ll look up to you, someone who’ll need your help.”

macy was quiet for a moment, clearly thinking about what you’d said. her little fingers twisted in the edge of her blanket, her brow furrowed as she processed the news. you could tell she wasn’t sure how to feel.

“and you’ll still get to do everything you love,” lena added. “football, school, everything. this just means there will be more love in the house. and maybe, when she’s old enough, you can teach her some football moves.”

macy’s eyes brightened a little at that, the idea of teaching someone something she loved appealing to her. “i get to teach her football?”

you smiled, nodding. “absolutely. you’re going to be the best big sister ever.”

slowly, macy’s frown faded, replaced by a tentative smile. “okay,” she said, her voice soft but a little more certain.

“i’ll be the best big sister ever. but only if i get to teach her football.”

lena laughed, pulling macy into a tight hug. “deal.”

and just like that, your family took another step forward, your heart full of love as you prepared for the next chapter in your lives—together.

masterlist

#lena oberdorf #lena oberdorf x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #gerwnt #bayern frauen

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mclager · 1 month ago

Text

Latinos unidos! | Fernando Alonso x reader

We have fluff and a lot of Latinos, that's it, good reading

Fc: Bella Campos

Ynreal

Liked by carlossainz55, fernandoalo_oficial and others

Ynreal Not all people that speaks Spanish/Portuguese are Latino(a), with that said, I claim Carlos Sainz as an honorary Latino by the vibes only! Thanks @/williamsracing for the invite, I guess I'm a new F1 addicted 🤷🏻‍♀️

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Stakef1team We have a real Latino! @/gabrielbortoleto_

→ ynreal YOU GUYS HAVE A BRAZILIAN? I'm a fan, no questions asked.

→ gabrielbortoleto_ Vamo bora! (Let's go!)

→ ynreal tô contigo e não abro! (I'm with you, man!)

Alpinef1team Well, we have a Latino reserve driver

→ ynreal Oh, there's more Latinos then I thought

→ Francolapinto That would be me, hi!

→ ynreal Hi!

User55 I knew Carlos was Latino material in his core

User27 He manifested that I'm pretty sure

Fernandoalo_oficial Y a mi no? (And not me?)

User14 NOT FERNANDO TRYING TO BE CLAIMED BY Y/N!

Carlossainz55 I'll take it!

McLaren Oh we're showing off our Latinos? @/patriciooward please say hi

→ patriciooward Hola, guapa!

→ ynreal Hola 👀

Astonmartinf1 @/Fernandoalo_oficial why you didn't introduce our Latino? Hi, @/ynreal, we also have a Brazilian, reserve driver, but a Brazilian non the last! @/felipedrugovich

Haasf1team @/enzofitti also a Brazilian reserve driver

Ynreal

Liked by fernandoalo_oficial, enzofitti, felipedrugovich, gabrielbortoleto_ and others

Ynreal Colecionadora de brasileiros feat Papi Fernando 🇧🇷 (Collecting Brazilians)

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User67 does she know what Papi really means? 👀

Felipedrugovich Muito bom esse rolê brasileiro irmão (This Brazilian dinner was too good bro)

→ Gabrielbortoleto_ Seria melhor se o Fernando não tivesse flertando com a y/n a noite inteira (it would be better if Fernando wasn't flirting with y/n all night)

→ enzofitti O pai é seu, lide com isso 👍🏻 (It's your dad, deal with him)

→ ynreal tá precisando de uma madrasta? (Do you need a Stepmom?)

User81 ARE THEY OPENLY SAYING THAT FERNANDO WAS FLIRTING WITH Y/N JUST CUS?

→ User12 this is the brazilian way my friend

Fernandoalo_oficial Good to meet you, Hermosa!

→ ynreal Good to meet you too 😘

→ gabrielbortoleto_ oh no

Ynreal

Gabrielbortoleto_ Eu criei um monstro (I created a monster)

Ynreal

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Ynreal Valeu @/gabrielbortoleto_ por ter me apresentado o Nando! Te devo uma. (Thank you Gabriel for introducing me to Nando! Own you one.)

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Felipedrugovich Perdeu o pai pra yn (Lost your dad to yn)

→ enzofitti ganhou uma madrasta (He won a Stepmom)

Gabrielbortoleto_ 🫠

User14 So it's official? I'm confused

User32 Old man Fernando still got the rizz!

Fernandoalo_oficial Still waiting for you to put me in your honorary Latino list...

→ ynreal You're in my honorary Brazilian list which is better! I'll get you a CPF 🙏🏼

→ Fernandoalo_official If I marry you would that help?

→ gabrielbortoleto_ NO

→ ynreal YES!

Williamsracing Please don't forget us 🙏🏼

→ ynreal NEVER!!! Always in my heart as the team that made me like F1, thank you very much ❤️

→ williamsracing 💙💙💙

Fernandoalo_oficial

Liked by ynreal, gabrielbortoleto_ and others

Fernandoalo_oficial Mi amuleto de la suerte @/ynreal (My lucky charm)

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Ynreal Te amo!

→ Fernandoalo_oficial Te amo muchísimo ❤️

→ felipedrugovich Gado (Simp)

Gabrielbortoleto_ Don't know if I did the best thing ever or the worse thing ever

→ enzofitti At least now you can have a fight in Portuguese with someone 👍🏻

User27 OMG FERNANDO?

User98 I can't believe this

Ynreal

Liked by Fernandoalo_oficial and others

Ynreal Nando, P1 on track and on my heart, te amo, Papi! (Turns out, I know what Papi means)

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Fernandoalo_oficial Te amo, Nena ❤️

Gabrielbortoleto_ Se eu ouvir você chamando ele de Papi eu me jogo de um prédio! (If I hear you calling him Papi I will jump off a building)

→ ynreal 👍🏻

→ felipedrugovich ta conversando muito com o enzo (you're talking too much with Enzo)

→ enzofitti 👍🏻

Carlossainz55 I'll always remember when she loved me first 🥲

→ fernandoalo_oficial Cry all you want, the girl is mine 👍🏻

→ ynreal 👍🏻

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 social media au #fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader #gabriel bortoleto #felipe drugovich #enzo fittipaldi #smau

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morganski-19 · 1 year ago

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The One with the Gossip

The group is hanging out at the café, all in different conversations when Jonathan comes into the bar and flops down on the couch. Camera bag sliding off his shoulders.

“When does this place start serving alcohol?” he groans.

“In about thirty minutes,” Nancy starts, “are you ok?”

Argyle trades places with Robin, sitting next Jonathan. “That bad?”

Jonathan nods, widening his eyes. “Messiest wedding I have worked months. There were so many things and they just piled on top of each other. The amount of bridesmaids and groomsmen that had previously slept together and didn’t know about it was insane.”

Steve and Eddie turn their heads at the same time. “What now,” Eddie says intrigued.

“I love messy shit I’m not apart of,” Steve mutters under his breath.

“It was crazy,” Jonathan sits up, turning toward Steve and Eddie at the side table. “And it all started for the most stupid reason. The guys apparently had a bet when to see how many of the bridesmaids they could sleep with. And the girls didn’t know about it, and a few of them fell with their ‘charms’ and were none the wiser. Until, one of the groomsmen said who won in their speech.”

“Holy shit,” Robin says with a sip of her tea.

Eddie winces. “That is such a dick move.”

“How likely was it that they were part of those fraternities that just liked to terrorize people,” Steve asks. Having almost accidently joined one of these fraternities when he was in college.

Jonathan nods with disgust. “That only scratches the surface. The best man had won, having slept with six out of the seven bridesmaids, and he was engaged to the maid of honor.”

Everyone winces with disgust.

“Not cool, dude,” Argyle says with disappointment. “So not cool. How can people do this to other people. And think that they can get away with it.”

“Because they’re inconsiderate assholes,” Steve says at the same the same time Eddie says “They’re disgusting bags of shit.” They high five each other.

Jonathan lets out a long breath. “And I’m not done yet. It gets worse.”

“Oh my god, how,” Nancy questions.

Argyle stands. “I’ll be right back, continue without me.” He walks over to the bar and starts to talk to the barista.

“He got bonus points for sleeping with the bride. And the second-place winner, was the groom.”

“Holy shit,” everyone says in unison.

Jonathan nods with wide eyes. “And the groom got a bonus point for sleeping with his future mother in law.”

They were too stunned to speak, just letting the silence fill that moment. Argyle returns with a cup of something and places it in Jonathan’s hands.

“What did I miss?” he asks, looking at them all super confused. “Are you guys broken?”

Steve shakes his head, trying to wrap his head around what was just said. “I don’t think I’ve heard that one before.”

“And this is coming from someone who has actually slept with one of his frat bro’s moms,” Robin interjects.

“On accident. And she was his stepmom, that was much younger than his dad, well after I was in college. He doesn’t know, it’s fine.”

“Did that cause another sex ban?” Eddie asks.

Steve laughs. “No, that’s when the figured out that the previous sex ban wasn’t working.”

Jonathan takes a sip of the drink Argyle gave him. “Jesus, that’s strong. Did you bribe them or something?”

“Something like that. Seriously though, what did I miss?”

“Groom slept with the future mother-in-law,” Robin fills in, Argyle winces. “What is with people?”

Jonathan shrugs. “Don’t know. But it was a big wedding that they are not getting a refund for. And I still got cake, well what was left of it.”

Eddie leans forward. “What was left of it?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan nods. “Speeches were right before cake, so the bride took the entire top layer and slammed it over the groom’s head. Followed by the maid of honor taking two giant handfuls and shoving it into the best man’s face. Arguments broke out and all that shit. I stayed back to help clean up.”

“Had they signed the marriage certificate yet?” Nancy asks.

Jonathan sighs. “No clue, don’t care. It’s over and I got paid. A lot. This was not a cheap wedding. Oh right,” Jonathan reaches down into his bag and grabs a takeout container, handing it to Argyle. “Saved you a piece of cake.”

Argyle takes it, opening it and starting to eat it. Nodding his head in appreciation.

The rest of the group looks at Jonathan. “Where’s our cake?” Robin asks, a little hurt.

“You don’t live with me, you don’t get cake.”

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @mentallyundone, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug

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harmless-variety-of-garden-snake · 7 days ago

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thank you for reminding me that your tommy is bobby’s son au exists (looooooove it so much) (apollabarnes) (please for the love of god when can i send an ask from a sideblog it’s been 84 years)

I NEED TO GET BACK TO IT. I finally got Tommy to the 118, here's a taste of his first day:

While he's scrubbing down windows, Deluca approaches him.

“Tuscany,” is all he says.

“Campania,” Tommy replies, and Deluca grins, sticking out hand. “Tommy.”

“Sal,” he says as they shake hands. “Wasn’t too sure with a name like Kinard, but it's hard to hide that schnozz.”

Tommy’s eyes cross as he looks at his nose, and Sal cackles when Tommy smiles and shrugs. “How long you been at the 118?”

“Couple years, I transferred from Philly, thought I'd see the Kings get their asses beat up close.” He leans against the frame holding the windows, his arms crossed over his chest. He's handsome, that's for goddamn sure, and charming enough that Tommy has to fight back a blush. “You a local?”

“Sort of,” he says, spraying the window cleaner carefully so it doesn't blow back in their faces. “Grew up in Bakersfield—”

“My condolences.”

“Exactly. But I spend a lot of time in Minnesota with my dad and stepmom, and I was in the Army. Just got out. So I've actually got more Wild loyalty, which is lucky for me.” He grins when Sal laughs, and he's about to ask what other sports he's into when he hears Gerrard call Sal’s name.

“Stop flirting with the probie, Deluca, and get your ass back on that stick check!” Gerrard barks.

Tommy freezes, even though Sal just rolls his eyes.

“Fuckin’ prick,” Sal mutters, pushing off from the wall. “Nice talking to you.”

“You, too,” Tommy says, even though it feels like there's ice in his lungs.

He tries to keep his head down, and it helps that the alarm starts ringing. Tommy's eventually one of the only people in the station along with Chimney, who seems to be determined to balance an orange on his nose.

“Can you do this?” Chimney asks, wobbling past.

“Never tried,” Tommy replies, smiling and catching the orange when it's tossed his way. It turns out he has an even harder time, but his attempts make Chimney cackle. “Why do they call you that anyway?”

Chimney grins. “Oh, it's a—”

They're cut off by the return of the engine and Gerrard yelling at one of the firefighters.

“He always like that?” Tommy asks softly.

“Nah. Sometimes he's an asshole. You caught him on a good day,” Chimney replies, squeezing his shoulder. “Go make yourself scarce for a bit.”

It's like that all shift. Gerrard finds something or someone to have a problem with, but it's never Tommy because Hen, Chimney, and Sal are running interference. He doesn't get to go on any calls, but he doesn't have to face any wrath or humiliation.

In the morning, Tommy trudges out to his truck, having gotten very little sleep after Gerrard refused to take the house offline all night and the alarm kept going off.

“I know it might not feel like it, but you did good,” Hen says from somewhere off his left elbow. She looks exhausted for a good reason, having put out a house fire and delivered a baby in the last six hours. “It's not easy being new.”

“Transfer, right?” he recalls, and she nods. “Yeah, Sal was, too. High turnover rate here, it seems.”

“Yep,” she says, sighing. “God, I want to crawl in bed with my girl and just sleep until tomorrow.”

Tommy almost asks how and why she could feel okay saying something like that, but Gerrard isn't around to hear it and they're not in the military. She's saying it because she thinks Tommy's okay to say it around. So she either knows or he hasn't given her any reason to think he's like Gerrard.

“She okay with the schedule?” he asks, because he doesn't know how to get her to reveal which option it is. “My dad's on a twenty-four-forty-eight rotation, my stepmom says it's tough.”

“No kids,” she says, shrugging. “And she's got her own stuff going on. Your dad's a firefighter?”

Tommy grins. “I'm a fifth generation firefighter, if you can believe it. I didn't grow up with it, because I didn't know my dad until I was eighteen, but it just kinda felt right.”

“Assigned firefighter at birth?” she teases, and he tries to pin down the reference but can't. “Never mind. That's great, though, that you have that. I had the opposite: Dad took off when I was a kid.”

“That's tough,” he says, and she shrugs. “He didn't know about me. I thought my dad was someone else, then my mom died—it's a long story.”

“We swapping stories?” Chimney asks, having apparently silently jogged up on them. “What kind?”

“Tommy's a legacy firefighter, and he had a Maury thing with his dad,” Hen fills in.

“Ah, correction,” Tommy says, raising a finger. “Thomas Senior knew I wasn't his. Like I said: long story.”

They give him their numbers and get his in return, and Tommy gets into his truck and drives back to his shitty rental, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel with the music.

#bucktommy #my wip #i need to have a tag for these snippets #tommy kinard #chimney han #hen wilson #sal deluca

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wandanatsgf · 1 year ago

Text

Masterlist

Wanda x Reader

Lovers, Vampires, Strangers Part 1 Part 2 (ongoing)

summary: this story starts in the year 1850. You and your girlfriend Wanda are happy together. You have everything you could ever want, until she secretly turns you into a vampire. After a horrible accident, you leave her and that life behind. Now 173 years later, she's come to ask you for help.

While You Were Sleeping

summary: You work for the transit authority as an attendant in NYC where you see glimpses of Natasha everyday as she waits for the subway. You slowly gain a crush on the woman and fantasize about crazy things like marrying her or being in love with her, but you know realistically that would never happen. It’s just a way for you to pass the time. One day while waiting for the subway Natasha is mugged and left unconscious, which leads to a case of mistaken identity at the hospital where they assume that you are Natasha’s fiancée. You become caught up in everything and become too scared to tell the truth. Pretty soon you're hanging out with Natasha's family, but the longer you hang out with them, the more you fall in love with them, and especially one person in particular.

Right Where You Left Me

summary: Wanda is your maid who you fall head over heels for. But like all good things, you knew it wouldn't last. You knew your life was already decided for you, but that didn't mean you couldn't enjoy your time with her while it lasts.

Why Won't You Love Me

summary: You can tell your relationship is falling apart, but maybe there's still some hope for it.

Pray and I Shall Answer Thee Part 1 Part 2 (complete)

summary: Night after night you pray to the goddess of love with no response. After years of doing so with no answer, you become an unbeliever. Only after you have forsaken her does she make you a believer again.

Family Lines

summary: Your relationship with your family has never been good, but after Wanda insists on going to see them you can't say no. You watch as she falls for their charm until their façade cracks.

Mommy's Milk

summary: Wanda tricks you into sucking on her boobs and you get a shocking surprise

Meeting Fun

summary: Wanda decides to have some fun during a meeting

Sick Day

summary: you’re sick and your girlfriend Wanda takes care of you

Paint Me Like One of Your French Girls

summary: what starts as you helping a friend with an art project quickly turns into something more

Mommy’s Here

summary: after your bio mom kicks you out Wanda, your loving stepmom, takes you in

The Doctor is Ready For You

summary: it’s your first time going to a gynecologist and Dr. Maximoff takes good care of you

Natasha x Reader

Scream

summary: After the gruesome murder of your fellow classmates, Jean and Charles, everyone is on high alert. The police tell everyone to stay inside, but your friends decide a party is just what you all need. It's not like the killer will be there, right?

If You're Gonna Lie

summary: you know she's cheating, but you'd rather hear her lies than leave her

Drunk and Needy

summary: after a night of drinking you cling to your girlfriend Natasha

Do You Like Me Baby?

summary: Natasha teases you after you lie and tell her you don’t like her

I Can Fix Her (No Really I Can)

summary: Your girlfriend catches you talking about how soft she has gotten in front of her gang members. She has a reputation to protect, so she’s determined to prove you wrong

Hair Cut

summary: you try to cut your own hair and mess it up. Luckily your girlfriend is there to help

Knife Play

summary: you and Natasha try knife play for the first time

WandaNat x Reader

Inappropriate Feelings Part 1 Part 2

summary: You have feelings for two married women. When it gets in the way of your work they confront you

Kate Bishop x Reader

Taking Care of Her

summary: Kate comes home after a rough mission and you take care of her

Just a Little Bit of Your Heart part 1 part 2 (complete)

summary: You know you're not her only lover, but as long as she stays with you you're content with ignoring her infidelity.

You Don’t Go To Parties Anymore

summary: Kate looks for you at her birthday party and then remembers she ruined the relationship the two of you once had

Yelena Belova x Reader

Mac and Cheese

summary: After eating mac and cheese for the past few nights, you get sick of it. Your girlfriend, however, does not.

You’re Not Alone (COMING SOON) (Platonic)

summary: After Natasha’s death you get lost in your depression. Luckily Yelena is there to pull you out and together you two work on moving past your shared grief

Ava Starr x Reader

Putting You in Your Place

summary: You and Ava are teammates who have never gotten along. One day you push her too far so she puts you in your place.

Villanelle x Reader

Date Night & Murder

summary: What a date night between two assassins looks like

Love Quinn x Reader

You’re Mine

summary: Love doesn’t take your breakup well. When she sees you out with another woman she loses it and kidnaps you, determined to make you fall in love with her again.

Clean Up Routine

summary: Whenever Love gets jealous and kills someone, you’re there to remind her you love her and to help clean up

#wandanat x reader #marvel #mcu #masterlist #wanda x reader #natasha x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #villanelle x reader #killing Eve #love quinn x reader

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brucewaynehater101 · 9 months ago

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Okay okay. I saw you write “lesbian Janet Drake AU” AND I HAD A THOUGHT

Normally I’m team ‘Janet Drake was always a Drake and Jack took her last name’ BUT

I think it would be really cool if in this AU

Janet is a power hungry woman (perfectly normal) so she marries new money Jack Drake to get ahead in life.

She has a kid to secure the Drake legacy (hello baby Timmy)

And then she hires someone to off Jack!!!

The wonderful assassin lady she hired said that she’d do it for free (first assassin step mom, pick your favorite villainous woman), thus opening the door for baby Timmy to start picking up skills from his mom’s villainous girls friend of the week

So yeah, origin story of how we got Jack Drake out of lesbian Janet’s life and opened the door for many a morally grey/black step moms for Timmy to learn “life skills” from

I fucking love this so much, my lords.

In this AU specifically, Jack is an asshole rich guy who viewed Janet (smart, cold, calculative, charming Janet) as a trophy wife.

Janet was fine with this. She's not a good person (Jack was an asshole, but not overall a bad person. Killing Jack was a wee bit fucked up, but fuck yeah. Good for her), but she is a good mom. She loves her kid and does everything she can for him. She has her own life outside of being a mom (which is healthy), but her kid does come first.

Tim gets many many stepmoms.

The stepmoms are kind of charmed by Janet's morally grey BAMF MILF vibes

#janet drake #lesbian janet drake au #tim drake #thank you for the ask!!!!#dc au

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captainwinterrsoldierr · 10 months ago

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Greetings. I would like to make a request with Lester where the (female) reader recently turned 18 and she and Lester have been together in secret for a while and Apollo's sons and daughters are shocked that their stepmother is supposed to be barely older than They. Thank you!☀️

Ty for the request! Sorry it took so long to post!☺️🫶��

Title: Do We Call you Stepmom now?

Apollo x Fem!Reader

You finished up with training the new demigods at Camp. The new kids gathered their supplies and walked off to prepare for dinner. You finished cleaning up the weapons and sorted them properly on the weapon stache.

The sun rays glint brightly in the clear waters. The golden hue of the sunset always made you smile thinking about him. Just the thought of him made you blush and made your heart thump. As if reading your mind, you heard a chariot land behind you. You turn and saw Apollo getting off the chariot. He transformed into Lester. You didn’t mind at all. You loved him both ways no matter what. But he will always be the goofy, charming Lester to you no matter what.

His eyes glossed over as his mouth curved into that brilliant smile of his. He held out his hands and cupped your face gently. His blue eyes twinkled. Lester leaned into you and placed his lips onto yours. His kisses were always like this. Slow and meaningful. You always felt loved by him.

“I missed you darling,” He said pecking your lips.

You giggled, “I just saw you yesterday.”

He sighed dramatically, “Oh my love and it’s never enough.” His hands traced your back and he held you closely.

You glanced over your shoulder and saw Kayla walking over to where you and Apollo were.

“Ah!” You pushed him away and started to pretend lifting a sword.

Lester raised his eyebrows at you, “Y/N!”

“I’m sorry but we haven’t told your kids yet we’re together! What will they say! Im a Demigod!” You panicked ducking behind a shield.

Lester bit his lip, “Well let’s tell them now! Darling you just turned 18 it’s fine! We’re happy and in love!” He clapped happily.

You furrowed your eyebrows still ducked behind the shield. Kayla was getting close now soon she will see you two. Lester knelt up to you.

“My love, my sweet sunshine it’s ok I promise. They won’t say anything and as far as I can tell they love you!”

Your lips trembled, “are you sure?”

He nodded and he held his hand out. You took it and brushed the dirt off your knees. You spotted Kayla and waved at her.

“He-hey Kayla!” You nervously smiled.

Her eyes darted when she saw Lester, “Hey dad! What are you doing here today.”

You fiddled with your thumbs nervously.

“Greetings amazing daughter, me and y/n actually have something to tell you and the others, where are they now?”

“Oh they’re getting ready for dinner! Come on! I was just looking for y/n since I hadn’t seen her.”

Your heart warmed. Maybe they will be ok with this. The three of you chatted and walked back to the cabins. Kayla seemed unknowing of you and Lester. His fingers brushed against yours as the three of you walked. You finally reached the cabin and your heart raced faster.

Will was chatting with Nico outside the cabin. Austin was running around looking for a piece for his saxophone.

Will spotted you 3 and his eyes beamed. “Dad! Hey!”

“We have news to tell you all, my magnificent children,” Lester grinned. You nodded trying to seem confident. You all gathered in the central living space of the cabin. All eyes were on you and him. Even Nico was there. He smirked and drew a heart with his fingers. You bit your tongue. Oh no.

“So we are gathered here today to say-“ Lester began.

“What that you and y/n are together and happily in love?” Austin cackled. You froze in place. You looked over at Apollo who seemed a little anxious.

“Cause if you’re going to say that, we already know,” Will finished looking at the others. Your mouth gaped slightly open. They didn’t seem angry or uncomfortable which was a good sign.

Kayla got up and swung her arm around your shoulders, “maybe next time if you wanna keep things secret don’t make out on top of the training hill.”

Your eyes widened and your face turned beet red. “I uh can explain that!” You stammered.

“Fine yes we are happy and in love! We wanted to tell you ourselves but it seems we are indeed bad at hiding it,” Lester blushed.

“I just didn’t know if you guys were gonna be ok with it, we’re friends and I adore everyone in the Apollo cabin, you’re good people,” You spoke, your eyes looking down.

Kayla still had her arms around you, “We discussed it and we’re all ok with it! Actually we’re estatic! We all love you y/n, it’s a little odd you’re around the same age as us. But we will get used to it!” She gave you a squeeze and went to sit back down.

Your heart felt warm. You started to tear up and you felt Lester’s fingers lace into yours.

“Told you honey,” he said softly.

Will got up and wiggled his finger at Apollo. “Now now that doesn’t mean we won’t hold our father accountable though. Don’t go hurting our precious Y/N!”

You giggled and side hugged Lester. “I promise on myself I won’t!” He Exclaimed.

You were so happy. You and Lester can be together publicly now and it made your heart skip a beat. He was your everything. The cabin seemed happy about it. Everything was perfect

Austin cleared his throat and everyone looked at him, “but do we have like start calling you step mom now?”

#trials of apollo #apollo x reader #apollo fanfic #apollo imagine #lester papadopoulos

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mrsparrasblog · 1 year ago

Text

Makarov X Price Daughter pt.2

Pt 1 pt.3

You woke up with the worst headache of your life. Did you drink too much yesterday? You didn't remember drinking at all, only meeting the most handsome man you ever saw in your life who was interested in you and charming. When you slowly shifted in bed, you felt some difference. Your bed felt more comfortable and not so small anymore. It wasn't your usual twin-sized bed; it was a king-sized bed and very comfortable. Did you go to his place yesterday and forget?

You opened your eyes and gasped. This was definitely not your home. The room you stayed in was gigantic. The bed sheets were made of satin, and not the poor ones, but expensive satin, and they were pink. The whole room was to your aesthetic. Were you dreaming? You must have. You wiggled your legs away from the satin sheets, noticing the pajamas you wore. You didn't remember buying this. Just a dream.

As you jumped out of the comfortable bed, the dream turned into a nightmare. There were four military men pointing guns at you. "Куда, по-вашему, вы направляетесь?"

Russian. Your mysterious bachelor from yesterday was Russian too, but it couldn't be. He was so nice. You whined as you replied, tears streaming down from your face onto your soft cheeks. "Sir, I don't understand Russian."

They rolled their eyes at you and chuckled. They didn't speak with you, only gesturing for you to sit down and point their guns at you, and you obeyed. You remembered how your dad always told Tina, If someone points a gun at you, listen. He never told you anything about how to save your life in these kinds of situations. It is ironic to think that you were in this situation. You asked your dad once if he'd teach you how to shoot a gun, but he said things like that wouldn't be for girls like you, more for girls like Tina.

After sitting in the same spot for an hour, Vlad really entered the door. "Princess, were my guards too ruthless, or why do you cry?"

You couldn't believe how naive you were. Of course, a man like him had ulterior motives when he flirted with you. "Why are your guards pointing a gun at me?"

"Oh, Princess, are you scared?"

You only nodded and gasped when his reaction to your nod was to shoot one of his guards in the head. The blood splattered on the remaining two guards and on the soft white carpet. You were horrified. You had never seen someone get killed in front of you, and you were scared out of your life. He killed his own man without any remorse.

"Sorry, Princess, about the mess, but you don't need to be scared. I'll always protect you," he said with a sinister smile as if he really thought he was my protector, but he wasn't. He was a psychopath.

"Why am I here?"

"You know your dad pissed me off, and I wanted to teach him a lesson, but I'm a man of resources, and your ass is worth enough not to be killed. Besides, I'd like to see John Price begging to spare your life."

You didn't know why, but you laughed. You got kidnapped for your dad, who didn't even make time to come to your birthday, as if he had time to save you from Vlad. "I think you got the wrong daughter for that. That will be my death, and my father won't care enough to save the biggest disappointment in his life."

"Oh, Princess, I know that you think your daddy hates you and loves your ugly little sister, but want to know a secret?" He grinned, his eyes darkening.

You only nodded. You thought you didn't want to know, but you would agree with everything. Vlad didn't seem like the guy to tolerate your sassiness.

"Tina isn't his."

"What?"

"Yes, your annoying stepmom cheated."

"My life is a joke."

He screamed at you, "I don't tolerate negativity towards yourself. Did I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Vlad."

"Good girl," he purred, nipping at your neck. He wasn't someone who showed care or ever felt affection before, but he was always possessive, never sharing, not even as a kid. So, this was his way to go: marking your neck, showering you with gifts, and showing everyone touching you would get them killed—and not in a merciful way. He didn't know why or what spell you put him under, but you occupied his mind. He was almost close to killing you for it, but he had better things in mind—more selfish things for you. "You know, my princess, I have big plans for you."

"It's beautiful," you said flatly, not wanting to satisfy him to much.

He grabbed your wrist roughly and walked you to a second room, a walk-in closet. How rich was this guy? There was everything you could have imagined—everything from your Pinterest board. And everything was straight-up luxury: Louboutins, YSL heels, Chanel dresses, Cartier jewelry, and a Birkin bag. Who is this guy?

"Is this—"

"I almost needed to kill someone for that stupid bag, but everything for you, princess," he said. The sound of his flickering tongue made your stomach grumble.

"You can't buy my love!" You screamed, your emotions pent up, and you started to cry again.

He grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you down into the basement of this mansion, showing you a dark and cold room. "Stop being ungrateful, or I'll let you rot here." He didn't need to prove anything. You knew he was ruthless by the way he killed his own men.

"I'm sorry, Vlad."

"Good girl," he purred, nipping at your neck. He wasn't someone who showed care or ever felt affection before, but he was always possessive, never sharing, not even as a kid.

So, this was his way to go: marking your neck, showering you with gifts, and showing everyone touching you would get them killed—and not in a merciful way. He didn't know why or what spell you put him under, but you occupied his mind. He was almost close to killing you for it, but he had better things in mind—more selfish things for you.

"You know, my princess, I have big plans for you."

"Kill me and send my corpse to my dad?" You said it sarcastically, and he smirked at your response.

"You know this is my empire, and every good empire needs its queen."

"No."

"Oh, you think you have a say in this? You will fall in love with me anyway, pathetic little girl."

He grabbed you and pushed you deeper into him, the tip of his finger gliding around your bottom lip, savoring the slickness from your trembling lips before kissing you forcefully. He wasn't a man who kissed without ulterior motives normally, always feeling disgusted by this. But right now, he wanted to claim every inch of you, showing you that you are indeed his.

Like a reflex, you leaned into his kiss, feeling the need to savor this moment. He could have only asked you out, and you would have agreed, but now you're his plaything.

Tag list: @multifand0midi07 , @whos-fran

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