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moonieandi · 1 month

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snapshots pt. 4 | stanley pines x f!reader

summary: you and stanley unknowingly go on a date

warnings (TW): swearing, illusions of past abuse, alcohol consumption

tags: fluff, early relationship described, pining, slight angst, affection

notes: thank you all for the engagement! hope you enjoy <3

edit 8/27/24: hello! below i have linked an up to date masterlist of all the parts of this continuing series- hope you enjoy <3

word count: 3.9k

| masterlist | part v |

He had somehow managed to drag her out of the basement that day.

Of course, he had been down there assisting her in any way he could. A high school dropout only knows so much about mechanical engineering and quantum physics. Still, she seemed happy enough to dance around the chalkboard she (he) had dragged downstairs, bouncing off ideas with him contently listening, trying to piece back together complex wiring to get the ominous inverted triangle on the basement wall to whirl back to life.

She was even more spurred on when he actually engaged, not that he raised his hand like he was back in class (not that he ever remembered doing so when he was in class). She simply seemed grateful that he was attempting to learn anything to help her. To learn how to move this whole fucking thing along.

She dragged him to the basement quite often now that the shack was half shut down for the winter. He had managed to see a few rounds of locals and tourists through the Murder Hut from early October until Thanksgiving when snow began to fall. Then tourists dried up, and only the locals frequented now, so Stan reduced his hours and gave some more of his time to helping her downstairs during the day.

Every night was spent downstairs in the basement though, there hadn’t come a day since she stepped through that front door that they both didn’t wander down to the portal. Of course, this was usually then followed by convening upstairs in front of the T.V., Stanford’s journal passed between the two of them.

She had grown more frustrated as of late, raving about alien material and compatibility with human electronics. He did his best to understand, and he followed along very aptly. Always wanting to be an attentive sounding board, and even bouncing his own, albeit stupid, ideas.

Not that she ever made any indication of them being stupid, and not that she would ever stop him from voicing them.

Educationally, he felt it was the closest he’d ever gotten to an actual education. Said education being advanced quantum mechanics, but everyone had to start somewhere.

But now they were out for dinner because, after yesterday’s long night of pacing and chalkboard rants, he thought they deserved to go out on the meager earnings of yesterday’s Murder Hut tour.

That and it had been exactly a year since he first laid eyes on her. Not that he was gonna tell her that.

He could acknowledge that she may have noticed the amount of time that had past, hence her growing irritation with the lack of progress in getting Stanford back, and her growing hours spent in the dark of the basement. But she more than likely didn’t know of the significance of the exact date, or care, which he figured may be more likely. Especially with the anniversary of Ford’s disappearance having come and gone.

December had been hard for the both of them really, and some things had settled somewhat awkwardly between them from the previous week.

They both handled the anniversary slightly differently, her with general avoidance, head somehow buried deeper in that god-forsaken journal. He found some semblance of self-soothing in diving head first into holding a conversation with any customer that walked through the front door of the Murder Hut that day.

Sitting across from each other at the dinner table was hard that night, and for the first time ever, she poured copious amounts of wine into their mugs on a weeknight. The kitchen had been eerily quiet that night, the silence only broken by scrapes of plates and mumbled conversation.

He remembers being disgusted with his hands that evening. Remembers thinking about how he had shoved his brother away that day, how Ford had stumbled from one end of the room into the other just to disappear before his eyes. How his hands had reached for Stanford, calling for him. How the journal made its way back to his hands, but his brother hadn’t. His hand had been constantly grazing his shoulder that day, running along the raised scar, a sickening feeling sinking further into him throughout the day.

They had both shuffled around each other that night, and she had not said so much as good morning and goodnight in her mounting grief, it felt like. She had felt bad about how she handled that day but had felt even worse about failing Stan and Ford. She knew of the hope in Stan’s eyes that day when she had trampled in through the door of the shack, knew the relief he felt in her knowledge and presence. But a year had passed, and she could feel nothing but shame when she looked at him. She saw both twins that night while looking over at his hunched figure across the dinner table. She had said goodnight to Stan and Ford that night and had wandered upstairs wondering if she could wash the image from her eyes in the bathroom sink.

They had both returned to normal by Thursday but had grown more determined than ever before. So yeah, Stan figured a night out may be deserved.

She seemed happier now, sitting crisscross from him in the Greasy’s diner booth, elbows on the table as she reached over to draw along the corners of his paper placemat with the crayons she had swiped from some kid on the way in.

Something that made him chuckle for a little too long. He must be a bad influence. He had sticky fingers and she knew it. It now seemed to be a competition between the two of them, who could steal the most random of objects.

Her hand was out, shielding the drawing on his placemat as she switched between the meager 4 colors the shitty diner crayon pack supplied. He nudged her hand aside as she giggled.

“No! My masterpiece! Give me a second you grump.”

“It better be good, Picasso, you’re hoggin all the crayons.”

She handed over the red one, and he elected to reach across to her own paper placemat, beginning to draw his usual comic-book-style figures. One of the figures, oddly enough, began to look like her.

Her face was so close to her drawing she might as well have been kissing the table, when she shot up, smiling at Stan and looking for approval.

“Ta-Da!” She moved her hand, showing a mish-mash of red, blue, green, and purple.

He stared contemplatively, sitting back in his seat humming. In truth, he had no idea what he was looking at, but he would entertain giving an “expert” review.

“Hmmmmm, now the color selection may be controversial to some but I think the blue and the purple over here are just lovely. Truly an emotional piece mhm.” He nodded his head, pointing at the corner of colors.

“You have no idea what it is, do ya?”

“Not a clue Doc.”

She laughed, pointing to the blue and purple figures. “Okay so these are two llamas and they are totally in love. You can tell by the cool rainbow and shooting star I put by them.” She pointed at what he figured was the “rainbow and shooting star” between said “llamas”.

“And they are here in Gravity Falls because I drew a bunch of pine trees behind them!” She pointed to what he supposed was the foreground and the mess of green sprigs she had tried to draw.

He hummed again. “Very moving, very touching Doc.” He moved to wipe a fake tear, sniffling along with his act.

“I ain't much of an artist, am I Stan?” She laughed, finding humor in her lack of skill.

He gasped, fake clutching his pearls, an even faker mean expression on his face. “Don’t say that Doc! This is a masterpiece!”

She smirked. “Okay, then that will be 50 bucks for said masterpiece, pay up!” Hand held out to him she made to grab his placemat.

“Pretty steep price there kid, don’t get ahead of yourself now.” He conceded.

She smiled again. “I knew you thought it was shit.” Shaking her head at him she moved to look at his own drawing. “Now what's this?”

He smacked his hand palm side down on the corner image, a blush on his face. “Nothin’!”

She nudged his hand now, trying to lift his hand finger by finger. “No! I had to show you mine now fess up! What ya drawing?”

His hand clenched the corner of the paper placemat, ripping the picture of her from the corner of it and crumpling it up into his hand.

“Nope!”

“Yup!” She had risen up with her hands on the table, reaching for the corner paper now clutched above him in his fist. “Lemme see! Don’t do this Stan!” She giggled the entire time.

He panicked at her determination, fisting the paper into his mouth.

“Gross Stan!” She laughed. “What the fuck!”

He swallowed the paper, not thinking much of it. Saving himself the embarrassment of having to explain himself. He smiled across from her though, as she cracked up at his over exaggeration.

She looked just right, under the shitty diner lights. Car headlights flashing as they went by from time to time, he began to wonder how long she would stay. If she would linger around, once Ford had returned. Wondered what it was that note said, that she brought in with her that very first day she burst through their front door. She had put it away after that day, and he never really did get to see his brother’s usual cursive gracing the paper. What was it he had said, to get her of all people out here?

She was too good to linger, he figured, and Gravity Falls felt far too small for someone like her anyway. Even if the unknown waited past their doorstep, they both hadn’t made the move to wander into the woods in search of the creatures Ford had spoken about. Something they had both voiced before over dinner, their shared hesitation to walk too far from their doorstep. If it was just himself he reasoned he would have wandered into the woods looking for signs his brother had been there, he wasn’t fearful of the unknown, he had done plenty of other things that were far scarier than what waited in their backyard. But she was here, and he felt some semblance of duty to watch her back in particular. So they had made a pact to not wander off too far from the other, and they had stuck to that deal even when coming into town.

The townsfolk hadn’t seen Stan without her by his side since he trampled into the gas station in search of food that very first week. Surprisingly, not too many townsfolk approached her at all when they were out. If it was because he tended to glare at unknown men, she didn’t comment.

“Order up!”

Susan made her way back over to their booth, her hands full with two separate plates of short-stacks.

“For you Mr. Pines.” Settling one plate in front of Stan, Susan moved to place the other in front of her. “And the other for you Mrs. Pines!”

Brain short-circuiting, he freezes in his motion to grab his fork for his meal. His mouth began to move to correct Susan.

“Thanks!” She said across from him, a panicked look in her eyes. Face creeping up into a flush as she thanked the waitress.

Susan made her way away from the table after exchanging common pleasantries, all the while he sat in suspense.

Only after he could swear Susan was out of earshot did he lean into the table, chest close to his plate to whisper across at her.

“What the fuck was that?”

She looked beyond guilty, ringing her table napkin in her hands as her eyes flickered to every corner of the diner that didn’t contain him.

“I-I may have… accidentally… at some point, perhaps…” She sighs, knowing the drive home will be silent, absent of the usual radio. At least it would be if they couldn’t make it through the mistake she had made all those months ago. “Accidentally, sorta, maybe, kinda, let Susan think that we were married?” Her voice rising in octave, her hands running along the rim of the diner table now.

He sits back, disbelief struck him. How the fuck had she managed that?

She answers his question unknowingly. “Okay, so for your birthday in June, remember how I begged you to come to town?” A nod. “Well, you know how I snuck off to Greasy's to get you some birthday pie?” Another nod, remembering how she had been so happy to have correctly guessed his favorite kind that night. He hadn’t even chastised her about the money she had spent on him.

She continues, hands now flying around, trying to flick the memory away. “Okay well, when I got the pie from Susan she had called my order and she called me Mrs. Pines. And I just…. froze up… and I didn’t know how to explain- well everything.” Her voice picks up speed. “I’m not good at lying, like I can do it, but she just caught me off guard. And we hadn’t discussed what we were gonna tell people- like what we were gonna tell people about us living together? And I thought of Ford and all that bullshit-“ she slumps further into the booth seat.

“And well, ya I just…I just didn’t correct her.”

Staring at him, expectantly now. Perhaps waiting for him to explode on her. But all he can manage to do is unravel his fork from his napkin and dig into his pancakes to finally take a bite. Chewing around it, he finally can ask something. He’s less likely to yell with his mouth full.

But the question dies on his lips. He feels more confused by the second, and then more frustrated also. The silence she figured would follow in the car seems to have raced ahead and sits between them at the table now. Her appetite diminishes by the second, and she no longer waits for some sign from Stan, some indication of acceptance. She didn’t figure there would be, she knew she had fucked up. Or at least, fucked up by not telling him about all this sooner, but she had more or less forgotten in between work and well… enjoying living alongside him. But perhaps the arrangement she had unknowingly shoved him into wasn’t something he was comfortable with, which was understandable. She hadn’t ever really believed herself marriage material, and more or less figured she was even less so in Stan’s eyes.

He knew she wasn’t the best liar, their old conversation concerning his name had rushed back to him. He hadn’t wanted there to be any lies between them, because he knew it would be difficult for her to upkeep them on top of everything else. That and he believed that their arrangement and reliance on one another wouldn’t work in the slightest if they were just spilling bold-faced lies back and forth to each other. But this arrangement she had stumbled headfirst into came as a surprise. Perhaps they should have rehearsed something to say to everyone who asked about them, but then again Susan didn’t really ask, she had just assumed that they were together, were married. He understood her stumbling into something like that, but he was struggling to find a way back out of it. Because he couldn’t allow her to live attached to him like this, didn’t want her to have to lie for their own comfort.

A lingering worry in the back of his mind, concerning his past. What if it all came rushing back? What if someone was out there looking for him? What if they hurt her?

He was far past frustrated, not at her though. At all the scrapping and clawing he had to do just to get here, to wind back up in the comfort of lies to survive. But he didn’t want her scraping by with him through this, he wanted her to live. At least before today, he believed she could leave him behind if it all fell apart under him. Always an escape plan somewhere in the back of his head, a way out, a door to reach in the dead of night. But she had shut it, and he didn’t know how he was gonna get her out of it now.

They finished dinner in silence, something that also rubbed him the wrong way. He was frustrated, and taking it out on her. She folded into an odd shape across from him, now looking dim in the diner light. It only served to frustrate him more.

Susan didn’t comment or come by to further disturb them through dinner, which was odd for the waitress. She liked to talk, and Stan knew that the south half of town would know about their silent dinner by Friday night.

Bill paid, they made their way back to Stan’s car. His coat caught up in her arms, he opened her door and shut it again after she entered the car without so much as a prompt.

He didn’t voice a single word until he made it to his seat, he had been too wound up concerning what she had said. That and he hadn’t wanted anyone else to hear their conversation. To know about the lie she had sown, tying them unknowingly together.

“So you’re tellin’ me that this town has thought that we’ve been a couple, no married, for about six months?” His hands tight against the steering wheel.

“Well no, because it was just Susan. Like, maybe just a few people know?” She reasoned.

He shakes his head, chuckling. That’s not how small towns like Gravity Falls worked. “Nah, she told everyone. People in this town are nosey Doc. Everyone’s gotta know by now.”

He adjusts himself in his seat again, reaching his hand out to the back of her seat, like he always does. She’s swallowed by his red coat, her hand meticulously passing the patch he had put across his right shoulder. Humming to fill the silence. He sighs.

“This is gonna be hard, Doc. I get why ya shrugged off the assumption Susan made, really I do, but that doesn’t change the fact ya didn’t tell me.” His hand rubs his eyes, frustration seeping off of him. How the fuck was he gonna pull this off?

“What do you mean?” She interrupts. “It won’t be that hard Stan, we can manage this, it won’t be too hard.” She shakes her head, trying to smooth over his frustration.

“How am I supposed to convince this whole fucking town you married some sorry-sap like me doll?” He points between them, an intensity to his eyes. “Now this will be the hardest con. Because why the fuck would you have married me, huh?” He shrugs, throwing his hands up.

Looking over his scarred shoulder, feeling regret seep through his bones when he sees her now. Sitting there, his winter coat hung off her shoulders, a look of disbelief on her face. An apology on her tongue, he could almost hear it now.

“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “What’d I tell ya Doc, don’t apologize to me.” He turns back to face her now, still shaking his head.

“No.” Anger blooming on her face. “No, why the fuck would you say that Stan. Why the fuck would you even think that.”

She was fuming, a look crossing her face he had never seen before. He had never seen her this thrown before, and he hadn’t the smallest inkling as to why her anger grew tenfold in the face of his statement.

“Because I ain’t no good and you damn well know it!” Voice raising, hackles rising.

“No!” She shakes her head, fingers fisted into his coat sleeves. “You are good, Stan! I don’t wanna hear that utter bullshit from you, don’t say that to me. I don’t believe it, not for a second.” Shaking her head, refusing to leave his gaze. "You're kind to me, you're considerate to me. You're good to me." She reasoned. But he was only ever really good to her if anything. Only kind in the face of her everything.

He thinks of his parents then, their image mirroring their own, but only for a moment. Arguments in front seats of cars and in front of televisions. How they would bend and snap back to each other, how he figured his father would snap and his mother would lie, to soothe him. She would lie, to see the end of the argument, to soothe frustration and heal hurt. But he figured it had more to do with his father's temper more than anything, more to do with raised voices and raised fists. But she was a terrible liar, his Doc, and he would swear to be less of a terrible grump.

He slumps in his seat, turning glassy eyes ahead of him.

“I just didn’t want you to have to lie for me, hun.” He hadn’t called her that in weeks, a flickering memory of that dream always made him flush at the enderment. But he enjoyed how she melted when he did call her that, so he’d concede his embarrassment for her.

“Stan, we can do this.” She slides closer, into the middle spot of the long bench, reaching her hand to his chin and pulling him into an earnest gaze. “Stan we can do anything, we will do anything, to get your brother home. And if it means lying like this then I'm prepared to do it.” She chuckles, humourlessly. “Especially because I’m the one who got us into this mess.”

She’s beautiful, he thinks, this close. Diner light seeping in through the dashboard window, her eyes looking deeper than he'd ever been allowed to notice. She's even more beautiful, as she giggles across from him, slipping a stolen diner spoon into his hand. Slipping her fingers around the stolen object and his fingers. He chuckles finally, he's a terrible influence. His heart settled into that familiar aching sickness, something he doesn't dismiss as much now. Now that it felt as familiar as her. There was a certain comfort he fell into when it came to the feeling and her now, one that made his heart race.

It wasn’t a mess though, what she had done, but it did solidify what he had to do next.

He had been thinking about it for a while, thinking about what sitting in one spot would bring to his, their, doorstep. Thought of the crimes he had left behind, skipping from state to state. It's what had kept him up late at night during those early summer months. What had made him linger around the door late some of those nights also, what if it all caught up to him? Would she be safe?

No, he figured now. Now that she had intrinsically tied herself to him, she was safest next to him. That she hadn't shut any door, that there was a way out, but only for the old him. So she wouldn’t be leaving, but that old part of him would have to. Protect her, them.

He sighs, ready for the conversation they would have to have. He would have to be more honest about himself, he warmed, kinda like her. But really only with her.

“There's something I gotta do then, hun.” He shuffles, leaning into her warm palm along his cheek. “I gotta die.”

She pales next to him.

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls imagine #stanley pines #stan pines #grunkle stan #stanley pines x reader #stan pines x reader

413 notes · View notes

sourcherryandsprinkles · 3 months

Note

hiii omg istg your modern jace works have been living in my mind RENT FREE THEY'RE SO DAMN GOOD but like a modern college jace bringing reader to meet rhaenyra and his brothers for the first time would be soooo cute, like i feel like joffery would LOVE that his big bro had a gf and would like pull her to colour with him and do stuff like that and rhaenyra would love her like a daughter, luke would LOVE embarrassing himm <3

Season 2 is premiering right now, but I have to wait until 10pm to watch since I don't have access to HBO Max... Please come to my ask and send me requests/let's talk about the new episode!! I will be opening them after I watch and giving my thoughts on the episode every weeks 🐉⚔️🖤

Thank you so much for the love for modern!Jace. I really enjoy writing about him. This one was challenging to write as there was a lot of people to write about. I hope you like it!!

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When Jacaerys came home for Thanksgiving, he didn’t tell his family about you. You had only been dating for a couple of weeks and were still getting to know each other. It was too soon to announce that he had someone in his life. But a mother's instinct never fails to recognize the smile on her son’s face whenever he looks at his phone or the hushed phone call she had heard when she walked by Jace’s bedroom.

Although she wanted to know everything about Jace’s new girlfriend, Rhaenyra respected her son’s privacy and let him tell her in his own time. That was until Luke spilled the beans after coming across a picture on social media where Jace was holding and kissing a girl’s cheek.

In typical brothers behavior, Jace sent a lot of middle finger emojis to Luke for spilling to their mother.

After a long phone call with her, a date was set. Joffrey’s birthday was coming up, so Rhaenyra saw it as a good opportunity to meet you. And Joffrey would love for his big brother to be there on his seventh birthday since he missed it last year.

‘’Mom, we’re home!’’ Jace called as he opened the door of his childhood house, carrying small bags for your weekend stay.

The sound of footsteps on the second floor filled the small entryway as Jace dropped the bags with a thud, making you jump. You took a deep breath, your nerves getting the best of you.

‘’It’s going to be fine. They’re gonna love you,’’ Jace reassured you, kissing your temple sweetly before an overexcited Joffrey came down the stairs. ‘’Here’s the birthday boy!’’

Joffrey hugged Jace, happy that he was home. It must not be easy for him to not see Jace everyday anymore.

More footsteps came from the back of the house as Rhaenyra, with a blond toddler in her arms, came to greet you. Her warm smile was welcoming. You couldn't help but notice how Jace's features mirrored hers. Except for the hair and eyes. He must have gotten them from his father.

‘’Hi. It’s lovely to meet you,’’ she said, her voice kind and genuine. ‘’I would give you a hug, but I’m worried Viserys is going to try to pull on your hair… He picked up this bad habit last week and we’re working on it.’’

You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. ‘’No worries, it’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Targaryen,’’ you replied, glancing at the curious toddler who was eyeing you with fascination.

‘’Please, call me Rhaenyra.’’

Joffrey tugged at your and Jace’s sleeves, his eyes wide with excitement. ‘’Come, I want to show you my birthday cake. There’s a big dragon on it.’’

Rhaenyra was quick to correct the young boy, laughing dryly. ‘’There is no birthday cake in this house.’’

You chuckled politely, figuring out that Joffrey must have seen the cake by accident and Rhaenyra was trying to keep it a surprise.

‘’Jace told me you have a massive dragon collection,’’ you said, driving the young boy’s attention to something else than the birthday cake. ‘’Is that true?’’

Joffrey grinned and began to tell you all about his dragons. He fetched some from the playing room and brought them over to show you on the couch, giving you all sorts of information about dragons. There was one of every color and size. Some had horns and a threatening stare, while others looked simply beautiful.

While you were occupied with Joffrey, Jace went upstairs to drop your bags in his bedroom. When it came back, he watched the two of you from the corner, finding it sweet how quick Joffrey took a liking to you. He was usually shy around new people.

‘’Where’s Luke and Aegon?’’

Rhaenyra set Viserys down on the floor so he could play with his blocks, and shook her head. ‘’I don’t know. Probably upstairs. Aegon is with Daemon in the backyard. Since we cleaned the old playset, he always wants to go outside.’’

Leaning over the banister, Jace called out to Luke. ‘’Luke! Come here, you little shi—’’

‘’Language,’’ Rhaenyra scolded, her eyes pointing at Joffrey and Viserys.

He apologized and you bit back a smile. He truly was a mama’s boy.

You didn’t meet Aegon and Daemon — Jace’s step father — until dinner. The latter looked intimidating, but he kindly smiled at you as you shook his hand. As he was helping his wife getting the food on the table, she gave him a subtle nod of approval, silently telling him that she liked you.

‘’I told you my mom would like you,’’ Jace said, pulling you with him in the hallway while the younger ones were being bathed and put to bed. His arms were around you, chasing your worries away.

You took a deep breath, feeling the tension leave your body as you smiled up at him. ‘’Now I know where you got your kindness and charm from.’’

‘’You think I’m charming?’’

Rolling your eyes, you tried to get away, but Jace didn’t let you.

‘’Joffrey is very fond of you too,’’ he continued, his eyes sparkling with amazement. ‘’I’ve never seen him so at ease with someone he doesn’t know.’’

‘’He gave me a full lesson about dragons. He is so sweet.’’

Hearing this made Jace happy. For him, family was very important, so it meant a lot to him that you were getting along with his family.

His gaze softened, his eyes locking onto yours before leaning down to kiss you. Your fingers gripped the fabric of his zip-up hoodie, kissing him back until a loud, exaggerated gagging sound broke through the moment.

You both turned to see Luke standing at the end of the hallway, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

‘’Do you want to see Jace as a baby?’’ Luke asked with gleeful enthusiasm. ‘’He had chubby cheeks…like Theodore from Alvin and the Chipmunks.’’

Jace groaned in embarrassment and you chuckled, imagining baby Jace with chubby cheeks. ‘’I’d love to see those photos,’’ you teased, nudging Jace playfully.

But Luke wasn't done. ‘’Do you know why there is no school picture of him in fifth grade?’’ he continued, leaning against the wall, clearly relishing the moment. ‘’There was this guy at school who was bullying me and Jace decided to put his big brother pants on and take him on a fight. This guy was two inches taller than him and much bigger, so Jace lost and fell, which knocked his front tooth out the night before picture day at school.’’

You laughed, picturing a brave little Jace standing up for his brother. ‘’You’ve always been protective, I see,’’ you said, turning to Jace. A small smile tugged at his lips. ‘’Okay. Luke, that’s enough,’’ Jace decided, taking you away from him before more embarrassing stories could come out of his brother’s mouth.

—

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puckinghischier · 3 months

Text

Choices

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary: jack proves that he will always choose reader, no matter what anyone has to say

notes: so, the first part of this is literally my favorite thing i’ve ever written. the ending? meh. i don’t hate it, but i definitely think it could have been done better, i just struggle so hard with endings 😭. i also lowkey don’t like the title, but literally couldn’t think of a different one. anyways, i hope you enjoy!! happy reading! 🫶🏼

can be read as a part 2 to this fic, but can also be read by itself

request: Could you write something with Jack getting defensive/choosing her? Maybe he gets cornered by an ex flame or someone about what makes reader so special to get him to commit to a serious relationship when he didn't with her

[6.7k]

“Are you sure I don’t need to dress up tonight? I know you said they’re just some old family friends, but I want to make a good impression,” you question Jack, standing in front of the full-length mirror propped against the wall.

You’re wearing a pale, yellow sundress with daisies imprinted all across the fabric. Jack insisted the Lawsons were just old friends of the family, having owned the house down the street since he was just a kid.

Since meeting Jack’s family last year, you’ve been his plus one to every single trip he’s made home. At thanksgiving he brought you home for a quick, two day trip to meet his grandparents and a few pairs of aunts and uncles, before having to fly out again because of his game schedule. Around Christmas the two of you split your time, spending the actual holiday with your family, then flying to meet Jack’s family for New Year’s activities, where you met several cousins and old school friends of Jack’s.

This year, you’re celebrating the Fourth of July in Michigan, finally getting to experience the infamous Hughes lake house. Jack was able to convince you to spend an entire month here at the large house, telling you the trip was for the Fourth festivities, but suggesting you leave a few weeks beforehand, wanting you to get the full lake house experience.

You had spent your days switching between joining his family on the large pontoon boat sitting at the end of their dock and going out on adventures with Jack alone on the pair of Jet skis Quinn had bought after his first paycheck came in during his rookie year. A few nights a week, Jack would tell you to put on something nice, showing you around the small town a few miles away from the house, taking you to each of his favorite childhood spots for dinner.

One night he had told you to put on the nicest dress you brought, then proceeded to take you to an old, beach themed bar. He sat across from you at the high top table in a collared shirt and khakis, the rest of the patrons around you in their bathing suit cover ups or shorts and t-shirts.

You scolded him, telling him you two looked like fools in there, all dressed up to eat fried seafood. He laughed, telling you the only fool in the room was him, because he was “foolishly and wholly in love with you.” You rolled your eyes at his mushy-ness, a blush making its way to your cheeks at the same time.

That memory, however, is the reason you no longer trust Jack when he tells you to either dress up or dress down for dinners. Including tonight.

“I promise, you don’t have to dress up. You could wear your bathing suit for all I care,” he calls out from the bathroom where he’s ‘fixing’ his hair, which usually means brushing it and then ruffling it around with his hands. “I mean, mom might not be too happy if you’re sitting at the dinner table in just a bikini, but I’d sure enjoy the show.”

You scoff at his words, turning to go and stand in the doorway of the ensuite, crossing your arms.

“I’m being serious, J. I want to make a good impression on these people. They’re really good friends of your parents. Your mom was telling me how you all used to spend almost the entire summer together, constantly over at one another’s houses for dinner and fire talks,” you remember how excited Ellen was to be having her friends over for dinner tonight, claiming she hadn’t seen them in years because of how busy their lives had gotten.

Ellen also mentioned they had a daughter around your and Jack’s age who was in with her parents for the summer. Her name is Sarah and she’s a department director of some big advertisement company in New York. She stopped coming around as often around the same time Jack got drafted to the Devils, according to Ellen. Her job being too demanding for her to make the trip every summer.

You were excited to meet yet another person that knew Jack as a kid. You were hoping to rope a few stories out of her over the course of dinner, wanting to know as much as you can about Jack’s childhood from those around him. Sometimes you really hate the fact that you haven’t known Jack his whole life. You count yourself one of the luckiest people alive to be able to share his life with him now, but you’re always picturing him growing up, wanting to know every detail of what makes Jack, Jack.

Quinn and Luke are always eager to tell you anything you want to know about Jack, from the time he wanted to be “TP man” for Halloween and proceeded to wrap his entire body in toilet paper, wearing the empty rolls on his hands, to the time he wanted to ask his eighth-grade crush out on a date, but instead blurted out that he had to go home to massage their dad’s feet.

You always enjoyed hearing stories about him from people that weren’t his mischievous brothers, though. Like when his grandma told you about the time she got home to see that Jack had rearranged her kitchen cabinets, placing everything he saw her use on a regular basis closer to where she could reach it after watching her drop her favorite mug while trying to put it away on the second highest shelf that morning. Or when his best friend from high school told you about the time Jack gave him a ride home from practice, stopping in to say hello to his parents when Jack heard his little sister crying in her room because she couldn’t figure out her math homework. Jack stayed over for nearly two hours to help the little girl with her multiplication table and gave her words of encouragement the entire time.

You knew Jack was someone special, his calming energy easing your nerves from the first time you ever spoke to him. Hearing the stories that confirm he’s been this way his whole life, from the people that have known him far longer than you, though, makes you burst with so much love for the man you think your heart might actually explode one day.

“And I’m being serious, Sunshine, what you’re wearing is fine and won’t change the fact that they’re going to absolutely love you, just like everyone else does,” Jack walks over to stand in front of you.

You uncross your arms, letting them fall to your sides. Jack reaches down and takes each one of your hands into his, stepping forward slightly.

“I just…I care about how the people that know you view me. It’s important to me that the people important to you know that I love you, not that I’m just trying to ride on the back of some hot shot hockey player,” you whisper, referencing a blog post you were sent by one of your coworkers back in Jersey, asking if the girl in the picture was, in fact, you sitting on Jack’s lap in a crowded bar you went to for a post-game celebration.

The post talked about how you had been seen with Jack at a few games and were seen leaving several bars with him over the course of a few weeks early into your relationship. The blog site was a silly, hockey gossip blog, more concerned about who the players were sleeping with than any of the games themselves, but the accusation made your heart sink nonetheless. You knew you were with Jack for no reason other than you love him and he makes you feel safe, comfortable, and loved. Jack knows you’re not with him for his money, and anyone close to him knows you’re not with him for his money or fame.

He could quit hockey tomorrow and it wouldn’t change even an ounce of your feelings towards him. With or without hockey, he’s still your Jack. The Jack that makes you honey lavender tea every night because he knows it helps you sleep. The Jack that somehow manages to bring you flowers after every home game, no matter how late it is. The Jack that insisted you move in with him after your lease ended because his apartment is closer to your new job, but really because he was tired of not coming home to you every night. The Jack that showed up to your graduation this spring, bringing nearly his whole team and his family, the group cheering so loud when you walked across the stage everyone in attendance laughed, the person handing you your diploma commenting “sounds like you have a few fans out there.”

Even though you know that Jack knows, and his family knows, each time you meet someone new from his life, you feel the need to prove yourself. It’s part of the reason you were so anxious to meet his parents all those months ago. You worry that each person you meet has seen or read an article like the one you were sent. You worry they’ll think you’re not right for Jack, or that you’re only with him to get a taste of the popularity and lifestyle that comes along with his job. All you want is to show them how much you love him for him, and how you never want to leave his side.

Jack looks down at you, bringing your joined hands up to his mouth, pulling them together and kissing your knuckles.

“I promise you, no one here thinks that,” he starts, his words oozing with sincerity. “There is not a single person that matters to me in my life more than you. And absolutely no one’s opinion of you matters to me other than your own. Do you think you’re with me for the wrong reasons?” He asks you, waiting for you to answer him.

You shake your head no, breaking his eye contact.

“Hey, look at me,” he squeezes your hands that are still resting near his mouth, bringing your eyes back to his. “Then absolutely nothing else matters, okay? I know who you are, and you know who you are. Last time I checked, we’re the only two in this relationship, so that’s the only two people I’ll ever be looking to for opinions concerning my choices in this relationship, got it?”

You nod, a little embarrassed you were ever worried in the first place after his small speech, but still needing the hear his words nonetheless.

You’re still looking up at him, opening your mouth to tell him how much you love him when your stomach growls between the two of you, loud enough you nearly jump back.

Jack’s eyes flicker down to your stomach and back up to your eyes, the amusement in them making the blue shade shine even brighter.

“On that note, let’s go get you something to eat,” he chuckles, kissing your forehead before dropping one of your hands, the other still intwined with yours, pulling you out of the room behind him.

Jack led you down to the kitchen, digging around in the fridge to sneak you a snack before everyone sat down for dinner, knowing the meal wouldn’t be ready for at least another hour.

After he was satisfied that you weren’t going to starve, thanks to the small bowl of fruit he found, the two of you walked out to the back deck, joining everyone else.

The Lawsons had already arrived, Jim and Ellen standing on the other side of the large deck, conversing with Mr. and Mrs. Lawson separately.

Mrs. Lawson is a short, slim woman. Her hair is flawlessly styled into a ‘looks lazy but really took an hour’ up do, wearing a light purple, short sleeve pleated dress that fell just above her ankles, a simple pair of sandals on her feet.

Her husband is a tall man with salt and pepper hair, wearing a matching polo shirt and khaki shorts, a pair of Hey Dude brand shoes on his feet.

As soon as the two of you walked out onto the porch, Ellen was immediately halting her conversation to introduce you to the guests.

“Oh! There they are! Aren’t they just dolls? Look at them!” she gushed, walking over to greet the two of you.

You smile warmly at her, your relationship with Jack’s mom almost as dear to you as your relationship with your own. The two of you were able to sit and talk with one another during the hockey game her and Jim had come into town for the first time you met them. You both were invested in the game itself, considering all three Hughes boys were on the ice that night, but the intermissions were full of conversations and stories. You left the rink that night feeling like you had gained another mother, exchanging numbers with Ellen and promising to keep in touch. You now have weekly phone calls with Ellen, her interest in your life and well being matching that of her interest in her son’s.

“Mom, we literally saw you an hour ago on the boat, calm down,” Jack tells her, earning soft smack to his chest from you.

“Don’t be a grump, Jack. She’s telling us how good we look and you choose now to suddenly act like you don’t love being told you look pretty,” you scold.

Jack looks down at you with his mouth slightly open, putting on his best fake offended face.

“See, I told you she keeps him in check for me. Now I don’t have to carry the burden all by myself anymore,” Ellen tells Mrs. Lawson, earning a laugh from the woman standing just behind her.

You and Jack continue to have a small stare down until he conceded, choosing to flash a smile at you instead, sticking his tongue out like a child and earning a small giggle from you.

“Y/N, this is Deborah, but we all call her Deb. Deb, this is Y/N, my new baby girl,” Ellen breaks up yours and Jack’s moment, introducing you to Mrs. Lawson.

“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you Mrs. Lawson,” you say, removing your hand from Jack’s so you could step forward and give a small, greeting hug to the woman in front of you.

“Oh honey, Mrs. Lawson was my mother-in-law, please, call me Deb,” she tells you as she pulls back from the hug.

“Okay, Deb is it,” you laugh, stepping back beside Jack.

“C’mere, I need a hug from you too, Jack,” she motions Jack over to her, your boyfriend walking over to give her a slightly longer hug than you shared with her. “My, you’ve grown up, haven’t you? Last time I saw you, you were just getting ready to declare yourself draft eligible. Now look at you, the real deal.”

Jack blushes as he steps back towards you, knowing how shy he gets when complimented.

He may be cocky on the ice and in interviews, but you’ve learned that when it comes to the people that are close to him, Jack is extremely humble. He turns a light shade of pink any time you compliment how well he played after a game, or when his mom calls to tell him she watched his game on tv and cheered so loud she woke their cat up anytime he scored a goal.

“Just enjoy playing the game, is all,” he slips his hand back into yours. You give it a light squeeze.

“Ron, quit talking golf and get over here! Come say hi to Jack and his girlfriend!” Deb turns and shouts to her husband behind her. Both Mr. Lawson and Jim leave their spot by the heating grill and walk over to join your small group.

“Jack, how are ya, boy?” Mr. Lawson walks up, pulling Jack from your hold, bringing him in by his arm for what you call a ‘guy’ hug, each having one arm slug over the other’s shoulders, their clasped hands trapped between their chests.

“Getting by alright. Happy to have a bit of a break. Couldn’t wait to show Y/N here the ways of the lake house,” Jack motions to where you stand slightly behind him.

“Oh gosh, where are my manners. Hi, sweetheart, I’m Ron,” Mr. Lawson sticks his hand out towards you, shaking it softly.

“Hi, Jack’s told me a lot about you two. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Lawson” you reference both of the Lawsons, repeating part of your greeting to Deb.

“Oh, no, Mr. Lawson is my father, I’m just Ron, dear,” he mirrors his wife’s earlier statement, stepping over to place his arm around her waist.

You chat with the couple a bit longer, noticing after a few minutes that Quinn and Luke are nowhere to be found. Neither was their daughter Ellen had mentioned earlier.

“Not to interrupt, but where are Quinn and Luke?” you ask just as Ellen finishes telling Ron and Deb about a recent cruise her and Jim had been on.

“Oh, they took Sarah out for a spin on the boat before dinner. She said she missed the water, so away they went,” Deb explains, looking over to Jack. “She’s so excited to see you again, Jack. She always talks about wanting to get across the bridge to see a game, but you know her, a workaholic and all.”

You sense a slight rigidness in Jack’s body language at the mention of Sarah. He responds with a simple “Yeah, that’s a shame,” not offering any other words about the mystery girl.

You were confused. You had thought Ellen said the boys were friends with Sarah growing up. Why did Jack tense up when she was mentioned? Had there been some sort of falling out? Was he not excited to see her? He hadn’t mentioned anything when you brought her up earlier, causing you to assume he just didn’t know much about her, having lost contact after they both were busy and didn’t have as much time to spend at the lake anymore.

As soon as Jack had finished speaking, you heard loud laughter coming from the long deck at the end of the house’s yard, seeing three figures quickly approaching the porch you were standing on.

“See, told you I could still beat you, just like when I was a kid!” you hear an unfamiliar voice call out, footsteps coming up the wooden stairs leading to the porch.

“Not fair, you didn’t tell me it was a race until you were already at the end of the deck,” you recognize the voice this time, Luke uttering his words between fast breaths.

As you look towards the stairs, you see one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen in your life step onto the porch.

She had jet black hair that fell to her mid back, perfectly pin straight. She had the greenest eyes you think you’d ever seen, and her tan skin was a shade that people usually had to be photoshopped to achieve. She was wearing a sundress similar to yours, but hers was a baby blue color, complementing her skin tone and hair perfectly. It fell right at her mid-thigh, and had a floral print running across the fabric.

“Hey, everyone. Hope we didn’t miss dinner,” she said, waltzing over to the wet bar to grab a bottle of water as Luke and Quinn make their way up the stairs, coming to stand a few feet from you and Jack.

“Oh, not even close, honey. You’re just in time. Your dad and Jim were just about to put the chicken on the grill,” Deb tells her daughter, beaming at her.

She walks over to join everyone, not stopping until she’s stood right in front of Jack.

“Oh, Jacky! I’ve missed you so much! It’s been so long!” she wraps him in a hug. His arms stay pinned to his sides, his body going rigid with discomfort. You notice the looks from Quinn and Luke, confused at their wide eyes.

He coughs, causing her to detach herself from his body, but not removing her hand from his shoulders.

“Well, that hockey training sure has been good to you, hasn’t it Jacky,” she continues, squeezing his biceps with a smirk before dropping her hands, completely ignoring you.

The second her hands leave his body, Jack is stepping back over to you, placing his hand on your waist.

“Uhh, Sarah, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, Sarah,” Jack says, squeezing you to his side.

“Oh! You’re the new girlfriend my mom was telling me about. How sweet!” she coos, placing her hand on her chest. “Jack, she’s so pretty. But, what happened to Macey? You know, the one with the pretty blonde hair? Oh, and the absolute insane body. Seriously, I need her personal trainer’s number,” she asks, looking around at everyone.

You think about your brunette hair and know exactly what she’s trying to do.

“Not in the picture anymore. Didn’t really like the fact that she kept sticking her tongue down some Philly player’s throat when she came to visit me during an away game,” Jack spat out, grinding his teeth.

“What a shame. I liked her,” Sarah waved it off, making a small pout with her lips. “But, I’m sure you’re great too!” she added as an after thought, flashing the fakest smile you’ve ever seen.

You feel a presence step up behind you, Quinn slyly whispering “ex-girlfriend” in your ear, suddenly making Jack’s body language and her backhanded warmth towards you make sense.

“Okay, well, time to go get the food on the grill. Food will be ready in around thirty,” Jim claps his hands together, sensing the need to break up the awkward moment.

“Oh great, I’m absolutely starving,” Sarah exaggerates her last word, turning and walking towards the sliding glass door leading to the kitchen.

You stand there, not knowing how to process what just happened, Jack’s grip on you as tight as ever. You look over to Ellen, who gives you a sympathetic look.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Deb sighs and shakes her head in amusement, completely oblivious to her daughter’s fake niceness and obvious flirting with Jack. “She’s something else, isn’t she? Such a little firecracker,” she reflects, nothing but adoration in her tone and on her face.

“Yeah, one that backfires into the innocent bystanders,” Quinn mumbles under his breath, earning a snort from Luke. Ellen shoots them a glare, darting her eyes towards Deb to see if she heard, but the older woman was still staring adoringly at her daughter in the kitchen through the glass doors.

Thirty minutes later, just like Jim announced, everyone was sat at the large outdoor table, food covering the large surface.

The food was amazing, the bowl of fruit from earlier long gone as you sat down to fill your plate, wanting seconds of almost everything.

“Jack, will you hand me the potato salad, I swear, I can’t get enough of it,” you ask your boyfriend who’s sitting to your right.

He reaches over and grabs the bowl, scooping a spoonful on to your plate for you. “That good? Or you want more?”

“No, that’s good. Gotta save room for dessert,” you tell him, picking up your fork to dig in.

Jack places his hand on your thigh, smiling over at the little happy dance you do when you scoop the potato salad into your mouth.

“Oh, I’m so full,” you hear Sarah say, raising her voice to make sure the whole table hears her. “I wish I could be like you, Y/N, I’d love to have seconds, but I just cannot hold another bite, I’m already so bloated as it is,” she places her hands over her stomach to emphasize. “You’re so lucky you’ve already snagged a man and don’t have to worry about watching what you eat anymore.”

You stop mid-chew, her words sinking in.

You look around the table, everyone looking at you. Deb and Ron are smiling at you, not at all reacting to their daughter’s words, likely not even understanding the connotation of what she just said. Ellen and Jim are looking at Sarah, their eyebrows raised in shock. Quinn is glaring at her while Luke’s mouth is dropped open.

Jack’s hand is digging into your thigh, his other hand closed, clenches in a tight fist on the tablet next to his glass of water.

You finish chewing your food and swallow thickly, placing your fork down and sliding your plate away from you.

“Oh, no, don’t stop on my account. I’d kill to be able to be as comfortable as you are. Not having to worry about impressing anyone anymore, just being able to know you’re loved, no matter what you look like,” she continues, taking a sip of her water to hide her smirk.

You bow your head, your face a shade of red you can physically feel, refusing to meet anyone’s eye.

Luke coughs, a faint “bitch” heard by your ears.

“Okay, I think it’s time we clear the table for dessert, shall we,” Ellen pipes up, her own smile strained.

“Great idea, let me help you,” Deb, either still oblivious or intentionally ignoring the hurtful nature of her daughter’s words, starts to stand.

“No, I got it,” Jack surprises you by standing, taking everyone’s plates and quickly stomping off of the porch.

You could feel the anger radiating off of him when Sarah was talking, probably choosing to leave the area before he said something he would regret.

“Here, let me help, too,” Sarah stands, taking a few food dishes in her hands and stepping inside behind Jack before anyone could protest.

The table is silent after she leaves. You sit there, debating on just sliding out of your seat and under the table, wanting to hide. Luke, who was sitting next to you, brings his hand over to rest on your shoulder, trying to provide some comfort.

You look over at him to see a concerned look as he mouths a silent “You okay?”, nodding your head yes, despite the heavy feeling in your stomach.

You look up again, straight at Sarah’s parents, wondering how they can be so ignorant about their daughter’s malicious words.

You meet Ellen’s eye, seeing a sad, pleading look, begging you to forgive her with her expression. You give her a small smile, shaking your head to tell her it’s alright.

Ron is the one to finally break the silence, looking around at everyone with a genuine smile, once again proving your suspicion they’re unaware of the shift in atmosphere.

“Ellen, please tell me you made your famous cheesecake. It’s been too long since I’ve had a slice,” he speaks, unable to read the room.

Ellen partakes in empty small talk with Deb and Ron about how she makes her cheesecake when you decided you need to go check on Jack.

“I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go help Jack,” you say flatly, standing from your seat and all but running inside, the urge to walk over and shake the Lawsons while shouting “your daughter’s a bitch!” in their face your cue to leave the table.

You enter the kitchen, seeing the dishes both Sarah and Jack brought in littering the counter, but neither one of them was to be found in the spacious area.

You walk through the house, calling out Jack’s name softly as you pass the stairs, making your way to the small sitting room at the front of the house.

“Jack, I don’t get it. What does she have that I don’t? What about her makes her any better than me?” you hear the sound of Sarah’s voice coming from the foyer.

“What the hell do you mean? Everything! She has everything you don’t!” you hear Jack exclaim, stopping in your tracks.

Were they talking about you?

“Jack, we were good together! We had fun. I don’t understand why you ended things between us. Hell, I took a job in New York because you said you were probably going to New Jersey to play. We could have been the new it couple of New Jersey!” it was Sarah’s turn to raise her voice.

Jack shakes his head, a dry laugh making its way out of his mouth. “What part of I didn’t want to don’t you understand?” Jack spits out. “You had fun. You chose to move to New York. You thought were good together. There was never any we in any of that.”

You can practically see the veins popping out on Jack’s forehead through his tone, even though they were out of view.

“All you ever cared about when we were together was the fact that I was about to play professional hockey. You didn’t care about me, you just cared about what I could offer you!” he shouts again. “The fact you just admitted you cared more about being the “it” couple more than you cared about wanting to be with me proves it.”

“Well, sue me for wanting to live the life of the rich and famous,” Sarah says, scoffing.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” Jack huffs out. “Y/N doesn’t care about living the life of the rich and famous. She just wants me. She wants Jack, not ‘Jack Hughes, star forward, number one overall draft pick’,” he puts on his announcer voice.

“All my life, people have only ever cared about how well I played hockey. Every coach, every teammate, every girl. They all saw me as a hockey player. They wanted me on their team, or in their bed, because they wanted what came with me: attention and popularity,” Your heart breaks at Jack’s voice, never having heard him sound so deflated before.

“Hell, you introduced me to people as a future professional hockey player before you ever introduced me to them as your boyfriend,” he continues. “With Y/N, that’s far from the most interesting thing about me. When she first introduced me to her family, she told them I was her best friend’s brother,” he refers back to the first time you took him home to meet your family, the subject of hockey not coming up until your dad asked if he liked sports, only to berate him for not being a football player. Later that night he asked him how hockey worked. Your dad has never missed a Devils game since, either in person or on tv.

“Her favorite fun fact to tell people about me isn’t a stat, or how many hat tricks I’ve scored,” he keeps going. “It’s that I love to sing Shakira when I’m in the shower. Or that I’m the only other person other than her dad that has ever made her laugh so hard water has come out of her nose,” Jack lightly laughs.

“Hey, Y/N, everything okay-“ you hear Quinn’s voice rounding the corner.

Cutting him off with a “shhh” you place your finger on your mouth to tell him, and Luke who trails behind him, to be quiet, pointing to the sitting room where Jack and Sarah are arguing.

“So, yeah, I would say I’m sorry you didn’t get what you wanted out of me, but I’m not. I’m not sorry that I broke things off with you. I’m not sorry that I found someone that actually loves me for who I am. And I’m not sorry that I brought the woman that I plan on marrying here with me, and you just so happened to be here too,” Jack tells her, his voice still holding a slight trace of anger.

“I am sorry that I never told my parents what really went down between us, telling them we just agreed it would be too hard and we needed to go back to being friends, because maybe they wouldn’t have invited you over tonight. I am sorry that I didn’t take Y/N out for dinner, trying to avoid what’s happening right now. I am sorry that you can’t begin to fathom someone can see through your forced smiles and backhanded comments, seeing how cold and rotten you really are on the inside. And I am sorry that your poor, sweet parents were given such a malicious bitch as a daughter,” He finishes.

“You know, my mom said Ellen told her you showed her a ring, but I thought it was just a gift. You’re really going to propose to her?” Sarah asks, annoyance clear in her voice, spitting out her last word with unmistakeable disgust.

“Of course it’s true. Bought the ring months ago, been carrying it around with me every since. Showed mom the night she met her, told her I was serious about her and that she’s the one. I think part of me knew that from the moment I met her,” you hear Jack say, hearing the tenderness in his voice when the subject turns to you.

Your head whips over to Luke and Quinn, your eyes wide and your mouth handing open. The panicked look on their faces is all the confirmation you need to know that you heard Jack right. He bought you a ring. He bought you a ring and showed his mom. He bought you a ring and showed his mom and was going to propose to you.

Before you know what you’re doing, your body is leading you to the entryway where your boyfriend is arguing with his ex-girlfriend.

“Y/N, no, wait,” Quinn tries to stop you, but it’s too late.

“You bought me a ring?” you ask as you enter the room, seeing Jack and Sarah standing several feet apart from each other.

“Oh, great, the woman of the hour,” Sarah rolls her eyes at you, throwing her arms up and letting them fall to her side.

You shoot her a glare, not at all concerned about her comments from earlier anymore.

You turn your head to Jack, who’s face looked as panicked at Luke and Quinn’s.

“Jack, you said you bought me a ring. Is that true?” you ask him, begging him to answer you.

Jack gulps, nodding his head yes.

“Right…” is all you can say, trying to digest what’s happening.

You look back and forth between Jack and Sarah, your gaze finally landing on the unimpressed one of Sarah.

“Listen, I don’t care what happened between you and Jack however many years ago, but I don’t appreciate you coming to his family’s house and acting like a nasty bitch to me because you got dumped and I’m the one getting the ring,” you tell her, earning a shocked scoff from her. “So, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you took your nasty attitude and sad insecurities out of this house and elsewhere. I have something I need to discuss with the man that chose me .”

You hear the faint snorts of Quinn and Luke behind you, while Jack’s face moves from panicked to shocked as he looks between the two of you.

“God, you don’t have to ask me twice. All of this melodrama is giving me a headache. You’re not worth this. I can get any guy from the Knicks roster, I don’t need to waste my time on hockey players anymore,” Sarah says before she storms out of the room.

You watch her go, giving her a sweet smile and a wave on her way out.

“That was…the hottest thing I’ve ever seen you do,” Jack tells you, walking over to where you stood.

You roll your eyes at him, hitting him in the chest once he gets close enough to you.

“Ow! What was that for?” Jack asks you, rubbing where you thumped him

“For not telling me that Sarah was your ex-girlfriend when I was telling you how excited I was to meet her earlier” you exclaim while looking up at him, poking him in the chest with each word

“I didn’t want you to feel like you had anything to be worried about and get even more in your head about this dinner,” he tells you, grabbing your finger and pushing your hand down to your side.

“Yeah, well a lot of good that did,” you roll your eyes, bringing your hand up to softly smack his chest again.

“God, woman, stop hitting me!” Jack yelps again. “What the hell was that one for?”

“For buying me a ring only a few months into our relationship! And then for not telling me you were going to propose, you idiot!” you exclaim, throwing your arms around.

“Well, I don’t know if you know this or not, but most proposals are usually a surprise,” he tells you, grabbing your arms and holding them apart, preventing you from hitting him again.

“Still. Why would you buy it so soon into us dating, Jack? What if you ended up hating me once we hit six months, or you found out I snored and decided you didn’t want to share a bed with me for the rest of your life?” you ask him, earning a laugh from your boyfriend.

“I knew that you were it from the moment I met you. There’s absolutely no chance of me ever getting sick of you, or hating you,” Jack tells you honestly, the intensity behind his eyes causing you to believe his words. “Also, you do snore, and I think it’s cute, don’t worry.”

You try to hit his chest again, but your arms are still being held by his hands.

“So, is this a good time for me to say I never really liked Sarah,” Luke chimes in, reminding you that him and Quinn are standing in the entrance of the room.

“Luke, you’re such an idiot,” Quinn tells him, flicking him on the back of his curly head.

“What? It’s true. I liked Y/N the second I met her, but Sarah was always just a bitch,” Luke rubs the back of his head as he speaks. “Why do you think Quinn and I took one for the team and took the wicked witch out on the boat so we could keep her out of your hair for as long as possible?”

“Thanks, Luke,” you chuckle, shaking your head.

“Well, I guess it’s time to tell mom that she knows you’re proposing,” Quinn says, looking towards Jack.

“Oh, no, no one is going to know that she knows. I had this whole thing planned out, and I’m not letting Y/N ruin her own proposal,” Jack says, finally letting go of your hands.

“Do I at least get to see the ring?” you ask him, hopeful.

“Nope,” Jack shakes his head, popping the ‘p’.

You huff, crossing your arms and looking at him with a pout, until you remember his words from a few minutes before.

“Wait, you told Sarah you carry the ring with you everywhere, does that mean it’s here? In this house?” Jack’s face falls, eyes looking anywhere but your own.

“No…”

Your face lights up, looking towards the stairs before back at Jack, turning and making a run for your room.

“Oh no, you don’t!” he runs after you, catching up to you in no time.

He grabs you by your torso and swings you around, sitting you back at the bottom of the stairs as he guards them.

“Not fair, your stupid hockey speed and reflexes can shove it,” you pout again.

As you stand at the bottom of the stairs, Quinn and Luke watch the two of you, admiring how perfect the two of you are for each other.

Luke thinks back to when he decided to introduce you to his older brother, knowing he made the right decision, the two of you bringing out the best versions of the other.

And when he stands, hidden with his family as he watches his brother get down on one knee, proposing to the girl that stood at the bottom of the stairs, demanding to see her ring, he knew sneaking into Jack’s room and moving the ring to his own room was the right move, the shock on your face worth the two week long silent treatment you gave him when you found out what he had done.

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kechiwrites · 10 months

Text

choking hazard

simon “ghost” riley x medic!reader

synopsis: you have a very special request for simon. he thinks you're insane.

wc: 1.3k

cw: afab!reader, choking, grinding, hotdogging, haphazard kink negotiation, thigh riding, playful name-calling, no use of y/n ever.

an: a quick little bite of simon and medic reader for this challenge, which i technically failed cause this is way over 100 words. happy thanksgiving

“What?” He asks, but really, it lacks the traditional inflection of a question. Instead, the single word manages to hold deep exhaustion and a healthy helping of ‘what the fuck is wrong with you’.

Which, rude.

You stomp your foot, the moue of your lips more than a little petulant. “Oh, come on, don’t make it weird. Just...a little. Enough to pass out.” you raise your hand and pinch the air for emphasis.

“What?” Oh! The inflection was back, and he’d shifted weight onto his other foot. His cotton mask allows for you to see the top half of his face today, and you’re grateful, because the furrow in his brow exposes that while he really wants to just up and leave this conversation, he’s far too curious, or maybe perplexed? Disturbed?

“I want you to choke me out, Simon.” You grin, shrugging, “preferably with your cock in me but...” You mutter to yourself, pressing your lips together and widening your eyes in mock innocence when he glares at you in response, obviously hearing you.

“No.” He turns away from you, pushing around the ceramic skull you placed in your office. A paperweight, whose presence had absolutely no hidden, romantic meaning whatsoever, you’d simply seen it in a home goods display off base and snatched it up.

It had been on sale. Or something.

“I’m a doctor.” You tap your name tag insistently, “I know my limits, Si.” Now you’re just trying to rile him up, as if he’d ever lay a hand on you in anger you didn’t expressly beg for. Still, he hates when you shorten his name, used to hate it when you said it at all.

Thankfully, things change.

“Fucking quack.” He mutters and you make a loud, dramatic, wounded noise you’d heard in a K-Drama you had watched once before flipping back to your favourite period drama you’d watched a million times over. You flatten your hand against your chest and rear back, more for your own gratification than to impress your offence upon Simon.

“I’m serious! I’m curious and I know it won’t cause any real, lasting damage.” You approach him from behind, wrapping your arms around his middle. He flinches, not from surprise, you guess, but from sensation, before his body relaxes. You push your face between his shoulder blades, rubbing your nose against his shirt.

“I’ll suck you off after.” You murmur, and the lieutenant snorts derisively.

No dice.

“Then I’ll ask Soap to do it!” You release him, and circle around your desk, feigning a grab towards your cell phone.

He doesn’t rise to the bait initially, turning back to face you and crossing his inked, scarred arms. You ogle them shamelessly, eyes greedily tracing every bit of knicked skin, every prominent, tempting vein. Thing of beauty, his arms were. “Go on, then.” He shrugs and consternation makes you furrow your brow in defeat. Unfortunately, the closer the two of you become, the more bags of candy and suggestive texts and lingering glances you exchange, the easier it is to read the other’s intent, your bluffs.

You pout, and kick at the corner of your own desk, shifting it slightly. “Fine. I wouldn’t ask him.” You tilt your head, pinning him with a needy look you hope is suitably enticing, “I’m asking you cause I trust you, Simon. Please?”

Apparently, bald, earnest honesty is the ticket because your not-boyfriend heaves a sigh and uncrosses his arms, raising one to rub at the back of his neck, the black t-shirt he dons stretched tantalizingly tight over the curve of his muscled bicep.

Oh, this was going to be so good.

“Fine. Just don’t piss yourself.”

“Do people do that?” You wrinkle your nose, and Simon levels you with a look, dark brown eyes broadcasting a stark “Do I fucking look like I’m joking?”

Regardless, you clap your hands in celebration, locking the door to your office and sprinting back to stand in front of him, the framed photo of your commanding officer, your mother, and you looking on judgmentally. You try to ignore it but end up putting the photo down on its face, no need for dear mum and your boss to witness your fantasy come to life.

Simon turns you to face away from him, the heat of his hands seeping into your shoulders. He is always so warm. It had been a boon to your freezing feet the few times you’d shared a bed for actual sleeping. (He’d cursed at you for maybe a minute before hiking your legs up to bracket his hips, so you could fall asleep wrapped around him like a koala.)

“Double tap, you understand?” He barks, and you can’t help but shimmy in excitement.

“Yup!”

Simon wraps a burly arm around your neck, not exerting any pressure yet. He hooks his other arm around his wrist so it sits in his elbow, and places that palm on the crown of your head, securing you snugly in a standard choke-hold.

“Good?” He mutters low, his chest blankets your back, and you're enveloped in the clean, sharp scent he usually carries with him.

You laugh, “Yeah-huh-huh-huh.” and you know you sound a little stupid, but you’re getting what you wanted and even without Simon utilizing force, you can feel yourself getting wet, forcing you to rub your thighs together in anticipation.

He begins to constrict your airway and it feels as though your head is ballooning, building up pressure as breathing slowly becomes more and more difficult. Your eyelids flutter closed and your lips part in shock. It doesn’t feel good, necessarily, but it certainly doesn’t feel bad. It’s obvious Simon’s holding back a lot. It probably should hurt but the lack of air makes your mind stutter to a stop, and all you can feel is Simon’s heat along your back and his strength holding you in place and his scent where it’s stalled in your lungs, unable to escape. When he shifts a bit behind you, your eyes pop back open in surprise at what you feel.

“You’re hard!” You wheeze incredulously, using the very last bit of air you had to call him out.

“And you’re a fucking lunatic.” He bites back, jerking his hips forward to rub his clothed erection against the swell of your ass. And he’s been doing that a lot lately, pushing up against your back, grinding along the fat of your thighs. Just last week, he’d spent a whole night hot-dogging (“Dumb fucking name, huh?”) the aching length of his dick between the cheeks of your ass, fucking against your flesh until he spilled hot and thick over your lower back.

You think he may be developing a thing.

He keeps rocking against you, branding his shape into your backside. “God.” He mutters, pulling you up and sliding his knee between your thighs. You can’t speak, what with your brain rapidly losing function, but if you could you’d hiss your assent, maybe scream when the muscles of his thigh nudge against your clit.

Your lungs and cunt burn in unison, and the edges of your vision fade, but you want to keep going, want to come just like this, completely under his control, dry humping his massive thigh, unable to breathe.

Finally, you raise a shaky hand to tap at his forearm, and Simon immediately releases you, letting you stumble forward, off his leg and towards your desk. Your palms make contact with the polished wood and you hunch forward panting loud and hard. The room is fucking spinning, but all you can bring yourself to do is laugh like a fucking maniac.

“You good?” The soldier speaks, the sound of his footsteps just barely piercing through the sound of your rushing blood. Your voice is practically non-existent and you have to clear your throat three times, but when you do eventually croak out a response, your chest heaves with your desperate breaths in between your words.

“Yeah, fuck yes.” Your chest slowly loses that frantic, mounting pressure and when you turn your head to look at Simon over your shoulder, his eyes are unfathomably dark and narrowed, running laps over your legs, thighs and ass.

“Good. Take your scrubs off. Right now.”

#ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost x black reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #simon ghost riley smut #kechiwrites #cod mw2 smut #cod fic #ghost x black!reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x black reader

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apollosdaydreams · 11 months

Text

Let Me In

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: You are dating Lando Norris, you love him don’t get me wrong but sometimes he can be a bit forgetful. Lando loves to game when he's not busy with racing, often streaming while he plays. When he streams it's like the outside world doesn't exist. You were coming over and you had forgotten your keys to his place, and Lando had his phone on silent.

Warnings: None fluff, adult language. I have no clue how twitch works so sorry if i get that wrong.

Word Count: 590

You were currently standing outside Lando’s apartment, you had forgotten your keys and were waiting for him to answer his phone. As time went by you realized that he wasn't going to answer his phone. So you went on twitter and saw that lando was streaming on twitch. You sighed out loud and rolled your eyes. Mumbling on how forgetful he can be when you put a screen in front of his face.

“Fucking I-Pad kid” You mummbled to you self, while slightly laughing at your situation, of course this would happen to you. It wasn't even Lando’s fault, you had forgotten the keys.

While standing outside his door thinking what to do, you decided that you should see if he would see your comment. So you downloaded twitch and made an account. You then looked up his account and followed him, you clicked on the live and waited. Nothing happened. So you decided that the next best thing was to subscribe, so you put in your credit card info and then it went through. You then saw that you could add a message. On the screen it read “y/n y/l/n has subscribed! Please let me in Lando. :)”

“Oh shit!” Lando said while laughing. “My girlfriend! She's on twitch telling me to open the door!” I'll be back guys. You laughed to yourself and stood there waiting. You then saw the door opening. You pretend to look mad, but that only lasted about a second before you both bursted out laughing.

“I'm sorry baby.” He said while hugging you and pulling you into the apartment.

“It's fine lands, it's my fault anyway I'm the one who forgot the keys.” You told him.

“But I should have been looking at my phone.” He said, while walking back to his streaming room.

“Lando, look at me. It's fine. It's my fault, honestly it's actually hilarious.” You told him while laughing. “You better get back to you steam babe, don't want to keep them waiting for too long.” You said.

“I'll be done soon love.” He said, before he left he kissed you and then went back into his streaming room.

You decided to have fun watching him on your phone, as you had to pay, better put it to good use. You sat in the living room on the couch, waiting for Lando to be done streaming.

“Sorry guys, I'm back.” Lando said. “My girlfriend was locked out of my apartment, so I had to go save her.” He said. “She had to subscribe to me!” He laughed. “I gained a subscription so I'm happy!”

You laughed out loud at this, you didn't realize how loud you laughed until you heard Lando addressing you on the stream. “Sorry guys, that was my girlfriend.” He said with the biggest smile on his face. After a few minutes of his staying on Twitch, he told the viewers that it was time for him to go hang out with you, his girlfriend. You turned off your phone and saw him walking into the living room.

“Hi baby.” He said while flopping down on the couch, his head laying in your lap. You moved your hand to his head, running your hand through his curls.

“Hey lands.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Lando, if you say sorry one more time I'm going to leave.” you jokingly said. “Don't feel sorry, it’s my fault I'm the idiot who forgot my keys.”

“I love you so much,” Lando said.

“You are sleeping on the couch tonight.” You said.

I hope you guys enjoyed this, it would be greatly appreciated if you would like, comment and repost this!! Sorry about the end it was kinda rushed. Sorry for not posting much, I'm busy with college but Thanksgiving break is happening soon, so I hope to write a lot during that time. If you guys have any ideas for me, my requests are still open!!

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vivwritesfics · 7 months

Text

Interviewers Are Assholes

The world didn't know about their relationship. But, once they find out, they refuse to leave her alone

(AKA I saw a martin brundle grid walk compilation and he asked someone 'who are you?' and i ran with it)

Loscar x reader

F1 Masterlist

"Are we doing Thanksgiving this year?"

This was not the conversation Logan and Oscar expected to hear from their girlfriend as the three of them stood on the grid. It was normally F1 staff, drivers, engineers, mechanics and such, along with celebrities on the grid before a race. But, dating two drivers on different teams meant not being about to sit in both of their garage at once (she was only human, after all).

So, they stood on the grid together before the race, chatting before the national anthem was played.

"It's kinda early to be talking about Thanksgiving, babe," Logan muttered, shaking his head.

She held her hands up, somewhat defensively. "Just trying to be prepared."

They'd been together for four years at this point. For the first two years of their relationship they hadn't had to worried about traditional celebrations from their countries of origin. But when they all moved in together, she insisted on it.

The first year they'd lived together, they'd gone to Florida for Christmas, spent it with Logan's family.

The next year they'd done Thanksgiving before heading to Australia for a traditional Australian Christmas, filled with seafood and everything.

This year, though, they had no idea what they were doing. Of course she was already stressing about it. It didn't surprise Logan and Oscar in the slightest.

Suddenly Logan and Oscar were looking past her. "What?" She asked, readying herself to turn around. But then Logan and Oscar were retreating. "Guys!" She called, readying to follow them.

There was a hand on her shoulder. She turned around, coming face to face with Martin Brundle on his grid walk. "Hello, who are you?" Martin Brundle asked.

It made sense. She clearly wasn't working for any F1 team, and she was surrounded by celebrities. The fact that she was talking to two of the drivers probably made him all the more curious.

"I am..." But she didn't have an answer for him. Who was she? It had been four years already, why were they hiding it. "I am a... wag," she answered, and immediately regretting it.

What she didn't know was that Logan and Oscar didn't get very far. They stood behind her, just out of view of Martin Brundle's camera, giggling as they listened to her struggle.

"Who's wag are you?" Martin Brundle asked, but he already knew. He'd seen them retreating as he walked over.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Good question, Martin," she said. "Who's wag am I?" Did she choose one of the boys? If so, which one? Or did she just come out to the world, tell everyone that she loved Logan Sargeant and Oscar Piastri?

She went with the latter, unaware of how much it would come to affect her. "Sargeant and Piastri," she said, scratching the back of her neck.

This might have been the strangest grid walk Martin Brundle had ever done. She didn't sound entirely happy to be dating the McLaren Driver and the Williams Driver. Don't get me wrong, she was happy to be dating them, but she was ready to kill them. Assholes.

"What kind of result are you expecting from them today?" She asked.

"Well, Martin, I'm always hoping they do well. Every Grand Prix they try their absolute hardest and every week I'm proud of them," she said, the perfect answer.

Lets just say, after the grid walk, the internet kind of blew up. Loscar was a somewhat forgotten ship, replaced by Landoscar. But it had returned and it was real. It was actually real!

As with everything in F1, some fans loved it, some fans didn't. But, most of all, everybody was so curious. Nobody knew this four year long relationship was a thing until a couple of weeks ago. Everybody, especially F1 reporters wanted to know everything.

Media days were completely filled with questions about their relationship. Logan and Oscar rarely got asked about anything else. They didn't mind. They were more than happy to talk about it.

But interviewers took it too far when they pulled her into things. She wasn't media trained in the way they were. She didn't have a PR team that prepared her with every answer for every question. That was how the grid walk had gone so wrong (or so right, if you asked the Loscar boys).

Oscar had gotten through to Q3, Logan hadn't. As always, she was there to comfort him, to hold him close after media duties. Media duties, which were taking ages.

But then the interviewer spotted her standing behind him. "It was recently reviewed to the world that you and Oscar share a girlfriend. How did that come about?"

The camera focused in on her behind him, as she furrowed her brow. It picked up no sound, but watched as her lips moved, forming 'what the fuck?' It was lost on her, and everyone, what this had to do with racing.

"Uhm, well, we've all known each other for our entire lives, it just made sense that we all dated," he said, clearly uncomfortable.

As soon as the interview was over, Logan wrapped his arm around her shoulders and walked her away. "Sorry baby," he said, kissing the top of her head.

"Why is it such a big deal to everyone?" She mumbled, shaking her head.

Most Wags weren't pulled in for interviews. The invasive questions had been a step to far already to the Loscar throuple.

This time, after checking on Oscar in the McLaren garage, kissing him before he went off to to his drivers room. She headed out, meeting the both of them at the car. She never expected to be accosted by an interviewer.

She didn't know his name, she didn't care. He grabbed her arm, pulled her on camera, and shoved a microphone in her face. "So, Y/N, what is it like to be dating to F1 drivers?"

There was a moment before she answered. Her brows were furrowed as she looked between the interviewer and the camera. "Why... why are you interviewing me?"

"The three of you have stunned the world with the announcement of your relationship. When did the three of you meet?"

"Uhm, I-Well... uhm... We've known each other for... sorry, why the hell am I being interviewed? This isn't... I don't want to be interviewed. Please leave me alone."

The interviewer bashfully turned to the camera, trying to recover. As soon as he looked away, she retreated, heading back towards one of her boys drivers room.

Oscar wasn't in his drivers room. He walked towards her, grabbing a hold of her before she had a chance to notice him. "Hey, baby," he said, pulling her close. "Is Logan not ready yet?"

Before answering, she turned back towards the exit, where the interviewer was still waiting. "Let's go get him," she said, pulling Oscar towards the Williams garage.

But Logan, too, was walking towards them. "Logan!" She called, throwing her arms around him. Oscar hung back. When she let go of him, they headed to the exit together. "There's a fucking annoying interviewer up there, and I want to kick his ass," she said, linking her arms through theirs.

"Kick his ass, baby."

They walked to the exit together. Once again, as they walked past the interviewer, he tried to grab their attention. Logan and Oscar were prepared to pull her past, to ignore him, but she stopped. She turned to the interviewer and grabbed his microphone.

"Just a PSA literally everybody," she began. The interviewer and the boys watched on with curiosity. "Our relationship is none of our business. Fuck off."

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sycamorelibrary754 · 6 months

Text

Happy Easter

Summary: You are three weeks from your due date, but the thought of you and Natasha missing Easter at the Barton’s farmhouse in Iowa was simply inconceivable. What will you do if your little bundle of joy makes an early, unexpected entrance?

Genre: Fluff

Pairings: Natasha x reader, Avengers x reader (platonic).

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: None

A/N: Happy belated Easter! I wanted to post this fic on Easter, but there wasn't enough time. This is part 3 of Happy Thanksgiving and Merry Christmas! I recommend reading those stories first, but it can be read as a stand-alone story as well. This was so much fun to write. I hope you enjoy it!

"Does anyone know where the purple egg dye is?" you inquired, scanning the table as you addressed the Barton kids. "I could have sworn we had two cups of every color." Cooper and Lila were fully engrossed in the Easter egg decorating contest, meticulously crafting their designs, while Nate seemed to relish in using every color available on the table. "Oh, it's on the counter.”

You were just about to rise from the kitchen table, no easy feat at this stage of your pregnancy. It felt like yesterday when you surprised Natasha with your pregnancy at Thanksgiving in front of her family and announced to the team that they would all be aunts and uncles at Tony’s annual Christmas party. Your due date was three weeks away, but missing Easter with Clint’s family in Iowa was out of the question.

“Don’t get up, Y/N. I got it!” Nat said as she jumped up to grab the paper cup of purple egg dye behind you.

"Thanks, sweetheart," you said as Nat placed the cup on the table.

"How are you feeling?" Natasha asked as she gently caressed your cheek. "Maybe you should take a break?”

“Nat, I promise I’m okay. Come sit back down and color some Easter eggs with us,” you replied, trying to put your wife at ease.

Natasha was looking forward to Easter, too, but she was more focused on you and the final weeks of your pregnancy. Dr. Cho had given you the green light to go, with the condition that you'd have daily check-ins by phone and go on bed rest as soon as you returned home.

"Auntie Nat, look at this!" Nate proudly showed off an egg with The Black Widow symbol on it.

"Look, Auntie Nat," you echoed with a smile.

"This is amazing! Maybe I should have you design my next suit instead of Stark," she said.

"Shall we start the judging?" Clint asked as he entered the room with Laura.

"Yep, all set," Cooper confirmed.

"Just a sec," Lila said, focused on decorating her egg. "There, done."

"Where are Yelena and Kate?" Laura asked.

"We're coming!" came a shout from the living room.

"It's not a Fabergé egg, you two, come on!" Nat yelled.

"Tada!" Kate exclaimed, revealing a beautiful purple egg with green and orange stripes.

You whispered to your wife, "So that's where all the purple dye went.”

You placed your egg on the table with all the others. Pink and blue with red polka dots. Symbolic of your current anticipation over the impending arrival of your bundle of joy. You and Nat both agreed you wanted to be surprised.

“Hmmm, this is going to be a tough decision,” Clint said, stroking his chin. “As you all know, you will be judged on creativity, technique, and presentation.”

Walking back and forth in front of the kitchen table, you couldn’t help but giggle at his mock seriousness.

“Allow me to confer with my fellow judge,” he said. After a few moments of hushed whispers with Laura, Clint returned to the group. “We thank you all for your participation. You all decorated beautiful Easter eggs. The competition was tough this year, but one egg stands head and shoulders above the rest,” pausing for dramatic effect. “The 2024 Barton Easter Egg Decorating Champion is Nathaniel Barton!”

You shouldn't have spent so much time on the sketches!” Yelena said, slapping Kate on the arm.

“Yes!!” Nathaniel cheered.

“You are hereby awarded this Lindt Milk Chocolate Gold Bunny,” his father said, handing him the gold-wrapped chocolate as big as his head.

“That you will share with the rest of the family and not eat in one sitting,” Laura added.

“Aww!” Nathaniel whined.

*^~^*

You spent the evening on the porch, surrounded by the laughter of the kids playing on the lush green lawn as the sun set over the farm. Laura served her delicious homemade Lemonade as you shared stories and reminisced about old times. The air was filled with nostalgia so vivid that you could almost reach out and touch it. Natasha sat next to you, holding your hand gently, her calloused touch a reminder of the strength and resilience she had acquired through years of training.

You were taken by surprise as you felt the baby begin to kick.

"Wow!" You exclaimed as you gently placed your hand on your belly.

All eyes turned to you. Though unspoken, everyone shared the same nervous anticipation as your wife for the approaching due date.

"Are you alright, malyshka?" Nat asked, her eyes filled with concern as she squeezed your hand.

"I'm okay. The baby is kicking. Here, feel." You said as you took her hand and gently guided it to your stomach, trying to find the right spot.

“Oh,” Nat squeaked. “I’ll never get used to that feeling.”

“Think how I feel!” you teased.

“Move aside, sestra; I want to feel my little plemyannitsa or plemyannik.” (Niece or nephew).

Yelena playfully bumped her sister out of the way with her hip and eagerly reached to touch your stomach.

"Wow, that's amazing!" she cried out. "Hey there, little one. I'm Aunt Yelena, and I will spoil you rotten!"

"Have you two settled on a name yet?" Kate inquired.

"No," you sighed. "We just can't seem to agree. Since we both want to be surprised, it's been twice as hard to come up with two names."

"Don't worry, you'll know when you see the little bundle of joy," Laura reassured.

"This wouldn't be an issue if either of you were open to any of the names I've suggested," Yelena added with a grin.

“Yelena is not an option,” Natasha frustratedly replied.

“What about—“

“Neither is Alaska! That isn’t even a name!” Your wife is exasperated.

“It could be!” Yelena said. “What about—“

“Or Wolfgang!” Nat interrupted.

“You lack all originality, sestra,” Yelena berated.

^*~*^

The soft glow of the table lamp reflected off your glasses as you delved into the pages of your latest beloved read. You placed your bookmark between the pages at the sound of your wife closing the bathroom door and crawling into bed beside you.

"Did you get a chance to talk to Helen today?" Nat asked as she helped me fluff up my pregnancy pillow.

"Yeah, I did. She was glad to hear that the swelling in my ankles went down and suggested taking a warm bath to help with the discomfort," you replied, shifting to get comfortable against the pillow.

"Mmm, a warm bath does sound amazing," Natasha hummed as she settled down on her side, facing me.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you’d be joining me?” You said softly, with a sly grin and a raised eyebrow.

“Of course I would, detka,” leaning over and kissing your baby bump.

You gently squeezed Nat's hand, feeling a wave of anticipation as your due date drew near. Thoughts of what your baby would look like and who they would become filled your mind. Would they inherit Nat's fiery red hair, or perhaps have your Y/E/C eyes? The anticipation was almost overwhelming, but knowing that Natasha was by your side made it all feel possible.

"Are you looking forward to the Easter egg hunt tomorrow?" You asked, pulling yourself out of your daydream.

Nat giggled, "You make it sound like I'm the one participating."

"Well, you might as well be. I can never tell who's more excited, you or the kids," you replied.

Natasha glanced down at our intertwined hands and then back up at you. Her green eyes sparkled like emeralds.

"I think it's because holidays in my childhood weren’t real. We filled the photo album with fake pictures and empty boxes. But this," looking around at the small details of Clint and Laura’s farmhouse, "Is real, and I’ve always done my best to help ensure that Cooper, Lila, and Nate have everything I didn’t. A carefree childhood filled with love," Natasha explained.

"You’ve done a wonderful job with Clint’s kids, Nat. They love you so much, and I know you’ll be just as amazing with our little one," you said, doing your best to reassure her. “Goodnight, Natasha,” kissing her lips.

“I hope you're right, detka,” Nat said, kissing your lips in return and laying a hand on your stomach. “Goodnight, malen'kiy (little one).

*^~^*

The following day, you awoke to the sun shining through the window and a soft breeze that caused the curtains to dance gently on the wind. Your back was aching, and you were tired, but you were determined to make it through today. You slipped into the most comfortable maternity outfit you had. Natasha helped you with your shoes, and you both went downstairs to the kitchen.

“Happy Easter, you two!” Clint said upon seeing you two enter the kitchen.

You sat down at the kitchen table as Laura placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of you and Nat, along with two glasses of orange juice. The kids were already eating and arguing over who would find the most Easter eggs this afternoon.

Yelena and Kate walked in a few moments later, clad in bathrobes and their hair disheveled.

“Against the idea of showering and dressing before breakfast, were you?” Natasha asked.

“Kate Bishop kept me up all night with her snoring, and Lucky and Fanny woke me up by sitting on my face,” Yelena mumbled as she flopped beside you.

“Hey, that’s how dogs shows affection,” Kate interjected.

“So, I should consider your snoring a Valentine?” Yelena deadpanned.

After breakfast, the kids ran upstairs to prepare for the Easter egg hunt while Clint got a head start on hiding the eggs. Nathaniel insisted Nat accompany him to help find his Easter basket, but she hesitated to leave you.

“Go ahead, babe. I’m fine.” Motioning for her to follow her namesake.

“So, how are you really feeling?” Laura asked, now that Nat was no longer in the room.

You let out a deep sigh, “Tired and sore,” resting your head in your hands. “But this quality time with you all means so much to both of us. I can make it one more day before going on bed rest.”

Laura rubbed her hand softly on your back, “Why don’t you sit in the family room with Kate and Yelena until the fun starts.”

“Okay, that’s a good idea. Make sure Yelena and Kate haven’t snuck into the Easter candy,” you laughed.

Laura helped you to your feet and then began to clear the table. As you started to walk, you felt a minor twinging pain in your stomach. You winced but thought nothing of it. With the amount of shifting the baby was doing these days, you had every spasm and cramp in the book. Unfortunately for you, you were in a house full of spies, and Laura picked up your discomfort. She made a mental note to watch you as the day progressed.

*^~^*

"Look, there's one!" Cooper exclaimed, pointing at the leather seat of the tractor in the front yard. He dashed towards it, but Lila beat him by a step. "Ha! Slowpoke," she teased.

From your spot on the porch, you glanced over and saw my wife hoisting Nathaniel onto her shoulders to carefully grab an Easter egg from the crook of an old sycamore tree.

After about 15 minutes, everyone's baskets were full of eggs. Now came the fun of opening them all. You watched as all three kids dug into their baskets, opening the eggs to find mini Hershey bars, M&M's, jelly beans, or starbursts.

Nathaniel walked over to you and placed an Orange Starburst in your hand. "Here, Aunt Y/N. I know the Orange ones are your favorite."

"Aww, thank you, Nate," you said, kissing his forehead.

As you were about to open the soft toffy candy, a sharp contraction cut through my stomach. “Aaah!” you reached for your stomach as you bent over at the knees. Much stronger than anything you had felt before.

Natasha rushed to your side. “Y/N?! Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Reaching for your hand.

"I don’t know," you grunted.

Natasha's voice quivered with anxiety as she tried to rationalize the situation. "This—this can’t be it. We’re still three weeks out," she said, her mind racing with worry. "Maybe it’s just false labor."

That was the moment when your water broke. "Oh God—" you took a sharp breath as another contraction hit.

"Okay, not false labor," Nat conceded.

"It’s okay, Y/N," Laura reassured you calmly, gently taking your hand. "Most first births are a long labor. But we’re going to get you inside, okay?"

You felt a surge of panic. "What? No, no. I can't have the baby here. I'm not ready. We had a birth plan; I don't have my overnight bag!" you started to ramble, the anxiety rising in your voice.

"You're not boarding a Quinjet now. “I'm going to call Helen,” Clint said as he started to run inside.

"What's wrong with Aunt Y/N?” Nathaniel asked.

"Nothing, sweetheart, but the baby is coming a little bit earlier than we thought," Laura said calmly as she and your wife Nat gently guided you up the steps and into the warm and welcoming embrace of the house.

"Cooper and Lila, please grab a soft, warm blanket and clean towels from the linen closet?" Laura called out to the older children, her voice steady and reassuring.

I'l boil some water and tear up some sheets!" Kate announced frantically.

"This isn't Little House on the Prairie," Yelena quipped. She looked at you and Natasha with a warm yet nervous smile. "I’ll call Mom and Dad.”

"I thought you said this was a long process?" you managed to say between deep breaths, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"Yes, but there's nothing wrong with being prepared, honey," Laura replied with a comforting smile, her hands steady as she and Nat helped you onto the bed.

Natasha gently grasped your hand and locked eyes with you. "Y/N, look at me," she said reassuringly. “You’re okay, and I'm right here with you. Let's take a deep breath together.”

You took a deep breath, trying to follow Natahsa's lead. The air came out shakily as it moved around the sharp pain of the contraction.

"Do you remember your Lamaze breathing?" Nat asked, her voice calm and reassuring.

"I think so," you replied, trying to focus on the breathing technique you had practiced during the prenatal classes.

*^~^*

Contractions came and went over the next few hours. You were thankful that childbirth was part of the first aid classes all SHIELD recruits were required to take. Otherwise, the prospect of giving birth in a farmhouse in the middle of Iowa would have been more terrifying than it already was.

You heard the front door open and the screen shut behind it as footsteps hurriedly approached the bedroom. When you saw Dr. Cho, you just about burst into tears.

Helen! Oh, thank goodness," you exclaimed just as another contraction began, your face twisted in agony.

"Y/N," Helen responded, rushing to your side and gently pushing the sweaty strands of hair away from your eyes. "Clint and Laura briefed me. They said that you're handling this wonderfully. Let me take a moment to set up, and then we'll check your dilation progress.”

Okay," you managed to say, catching your breath. "Where's Bruce?"

He's in Kamar-Taj with Wong. Something about ten rings? I'm not entirely sure, but don't worry, both of you," she reassured, meeting your and Natasha’s fatigued and apprehensive gazes. "I have a backup.”

Thor strode into the room, effortlessly carrying a collection of Helen's equipment that seemed as light as a feather in his hands.

"Thor? What are you doing here?" Natasha asked, clearly puzzled.

Thor glanced at your wife, then at you, then at Laura, and then at Helen.

"Hello, everyone," he said shyly. "I was, uh, Helen and I—Dr. Cho. She invited me for Easter, and we were enjoying a nice glass of Asgardian Mead when—"

"When Clint called," Helen finished. "Anyway, he's here to help, right?"

"Of course," Thor replied. "I've never witnessed a human birth before, but I've been present for the births of many Gods and am well-versed in many newborn blessings."

You and Natasha locked eyes, your nervousness quickly replaced with gratitude as you realized the significance of having another close friend by your side during this pivotal moment in your lives.

Natasha expressed her gratitude to Thor, finally breaking the silence. "We're both thankful that you're here," she said, her voice filled with sincerity.

You nodded in agreement, silently acknowledging the sentiment.

"It's my pleasure, ladies," Thor replied warmly.

“Thor, can you bring the rest of my equipment in from the Quinjet while I check to see how far Y/N is dilated?” Helen asked.

“Sure, and do either of you need anything? He asked.

Some ice chips would be great, you said in a tired voice. “Thank you.”

“Water,” Natasha said.

Shortly after Thor departed, Yelena entered, engaging in small talk as they crossed paths in the hallway. "What's the God of muscles doing here?" she inquired.

"It's a long story," Helen responded.

"I spoke with Melina. She and Alexi are en route and should arrive by morning. At least, I think that's what she said. It was hard to hear her over Alexi's ecstatic screams in the background."

"Okay, Y/N, you've done most of the hard work in my absence. You're just about at 10 centimeters. It’s time to start pushing. You two are going to parents soon," Helen announced with a smile.

“Oh my God,” you said, looking over at Natasha.

“Hey,” your wife said, running her hand through your hair, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said.

*^~^*

“Push. Push, just a little more! Come on, push for five seconds. 5…4…” Helen counted down.

Gasping for air, you exclaimed, '3-2-1 oh!!' as you fought to catch your breath.

Thor gently wiped away the sweat from your forehead with a cloth.

“You're doing great, Y/N. The next contraction should be coming in about twenty seconds," Helen encouraged, glancing at the monitor.

“I can’t,” you cried. “I can’t push anymore, I can’t.”

Natasha reassured you, "Yes, you can, Y/N. You're so close," she reached out and firmly took hold of your hand.

“Oh God, twenty seconds, my ass!” You shouted.

Natasha screamed in pain and fell to her knees beside you as you squeezed her hand. “Fuck, detka!”

"Here, Lady Y/N," Thor said, taking her hand in his, "Give my hand a good squeeze; you won't hurt me. And when you reminisce on this moment, you will remember that a God has faith in you. You can do this!" Thor's voice was solid and reassuring, his eyes filled with genuine belief in your strength.

Your eyes shone with tears as you held Thor's hand tightly, feeling the strength in his grip while Natasha enveloped you, her arm supporting your back.

I can see the baby's head. Are you ready to push one more time, honey?” Helen asked, “Here we go, on three: 1... 2... 3!”

You let out a final scream and then collapsed back onto the pillows, trying to catch your breath. As the room fell silent, the innocent cries of your and Natasha’s baby filled the air.

"It's a boy!" Helen exclaimed with joy.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at Natasha, who was also crying. It was more emotion than you had ever seen Natasha show before.

Helen held up your son for both of you to admire. His little head was adorned with the beginnings of red hair.

"He's absolutely perfect," Nat exclaimed with a radiant smile as she affectionately kissed your temple.

Thor carefully cut the umbilical cord, and then Helen gently passed the newborn over to Laura, who began to clean him up.

Overwhelmed with emotion, you exclaimed, "He's so tiny! Where'd he go?"

Natasha reassured you, "It's okay. They're just wrapping him up," as she wiped away her tears. Concerned for the baby's well-being, you cautioned, "Okay, well, be careful with him. He's really tiny!”

Moments later, Laura tenderly announced, "Here he is," and placed your precious son on your bare chest, swathed in a soft blanket.

"Hi, baby boy," you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I know you."

As your voice reached his ears, his little Y/E/C irises opened, revealing a world of innocence and wonder.

At that moment, gazing at your son, you experienced a love so profound it felt as though your heart had been laid bare.

Natasha tenderly kissed his head and softly murmured, “Dobro pozhalovat' v mir, moy malen'kiy mal'chik.” (Welcome to the world, my little boy).

We’ll give you a few minutes," Helen said with a reassuring smile as she closed the door behind her. In the serene stillness that followed, the only sound was the gentle cooing of your precious newborn son.

“I can't believe he's finally here,” you said.

"I know. He’s so beautiful," Natasha said, her gaze fixed on the newborn.

"It looks like he’s going to take after his Mama," you chuckled, running your hand over the delicate red hairs sprouting from his scalp.

"Yes, but look at his eyes—sparkling Y/E/C like yours. Wow," Nat said.

You remarked, "I guess this narrows the names down, then."

Nat sighed in relief, "Thank goodness I don't have to explain to my sister why we didn't choose Yelena."

Looking into your wife's eyes, you asked, "So what do you think?"

*^~^*

A short while later, a gentle knock on the door signaled Helen's arrival as she peeked inside. "Hey, you three. I need to conduct a few routine tests, and there are some eager people outside who can't wait to meet your son."

"Please, come on in, everyone," you welcomed them.

You couldn't hold back the tears as you witnessed the heartfelt expressions on their faces as they laid eyes on your baby boy. It was as if he instantly captivated them, just as you were when you first saw him.

"Oh, my goodness," Laura exclaimed as Clint enveloped Natasha tightly. Tears glistened in his eyes as he held his best friend close.

"He's beautiful, Natasha," Yelena said, her eyes brimming with tears. "Privet, malen'kiy plemyannik," she whispered (hello, my little nephew).

"He's so cute, Y/N! Oh my gosh," Kate exclaimed as your son wrapped his tiny hand around your finger.

"He is lovely," Thor added, his voice filled with warmth. "Strong and brave, like his mothers."

Cooper, Lila, and Nathaniel gathered around you, admiring the newborn in your arms.

"Everyone," Natasha began, her hand resting lovingly on your back. "We have someone special we'd like you to meet.”

“This is Nikolai Odison Romanoff," you announced with a proud smile.

"Nikolai! What a beautiful first name," Clint exclaimed, wiping his eyes. "It suits him perfectly."

"Oh, my, Odison," Thor said wide-eyed. "Ladies, this is an honor fit for someone else. I wasn't even supposed to be here, I—"

"But you were, Thor. You were here when I needed someone the most," you said, looking at him with gratitude. "We'll never forget what you did for us."

The God of Thunder exhaled, visibly touched by your kind words. "I'm truly honored, Y/N. Thank you," he said, kissing your cheek.

Excuse me, ladies," Helen said, "May I borrow him for a moment? We'll be right back.”

Nikolai began to cry at the loss of contact with you, and the sound tugged at both your and Natasha's heartstrings. "It's okay, little one. It's okay," Helen soothed him.

Then, looking up at your wife, you added, "There is something else we wanted to ask.

“Clint and Laura, we would be honored if you would be Nikolai’s godparents,” Natasha said.

“Of course!” Clint declared.

“Nothing would make us happier,” Laura added.”

The couple hugged you both in appreciation as Helen returned with Nikolai.

“You have a healthy little boy on your hands! Born March 31st, 2024 at 7:23pm. He weighs five pounds and eight ounces and measures 16.5 inches long," she said as she gently placed your son in Natasha’s arms. "He's a bit small, but that is because he was impatient and arrived a bit early," Helen explained with a warm smile. "Nothing to worry about.”

Natasha cradled the baby in her arms, swaying gently back and forth as a soft yawn slipped from his tiny lips.

“We’ll spend the night here, but I want to bring Mom and Nikolai back to the compound tomorrow. I want to perform a thorough examination in my lab before sending you all home.” Helen explained.

"Of course, whatever you think is best," you agreed.

Natasha nodded in approval before a sudden realization struck her. "Oh, Mom and Dad! They're on their way here."

"They can join us if you'd like," Helen suggested.

"That would be great," you said. "Right, Nat?"

"Yeah, great," Natasha said, her mind racing as she tried to imagine the chaos of the Quinjet flight home with Alexi and Melina.

Yelena couldn't help but burst into laughter, fully aware of what her sister was thinking, until Kate elbowed her in the ribs.

"We'll leave you all to get some rest," Helen said. "I'll be outside if you need anything, and I'll be back in a little while to help you with breastfeeding him.”

"Thank you, Helen, and all of you, for everything," you said, feeling the exhaustion and emotions of the day overwhelming you as tears began to fall.

After exchanging warm embraces, everyone exited the room, leaving you and Natasha in peaceful solitude with your precious newborn son, savoring the tender moment.

Natasha gently settled Nikolai in Nathaniel's bassinet, a family heirloom lovingly retrieved from storage by Clint and Laura. As your little one drifted into a peaceful slumber, you both couldn't help but marvel at the miracle of life, watching his tiny chest rise and fall with each breath. It was a moment you never wanted to forget.

“Rest, detka. I'll take care of Nikolai," Nat offered, her voice filled with warmth and reassurance.

"I can stay up; it's fine. You should rest," you insisted, determined to take responsibility.

"Y/N, you've just brought new life into the world. You deserve to rest for the rest of your life," Nat chuckled, her eyes filled with affection and concern.

She settled beside you on the bed and enveloped you in a comforting embrace.

"Look at your face," Nat suddenly remarked, her expression softening with genuine admiration.

"I must look a mess," you replied, a tired smile tugging at your lips.

"No, Y/N, you look absolutely beautiful," Nat insisted, her words filled with sincerity. "I've never seen your face more radiant than it is right now.

Natasha's soft lips met yours in a tender kiss, and in that moment, you felt the truth of her words resonate deep within you.

*^~^*

The following day, Laura prepared a delicious breakfast and brought it to you and Natasha in bed. Both of you had barely gotten any sleep with Nikolai waking up every couple of hours. Despite feeling utterly exhausted, you didn't mind one bit. This weariness stemmed from the joy of caring for your precious newborn son on his very first night.

Twenty minutes later, the tranquil moment was interrupted by familiar voices outside. Natasha gently pulled the curtain back to glimpse her parents making their way up the front porch steps.

Yelena strode into the room with her arms folded and a mischievous smile on her lips. "Brace yourselves," she teased, "The grandparents have arrived.”

"Where's my little guy?" Alexi eagerly shouted as he entered the room.

"Shh!" Natasha hushed him with a grin, motioning to Nikolai nestled in her arms. "Oh, look at him!" Alexi whispered in awe.

"Mom, Dad, this is Nikolai,” Nat said, wiping a tear from her eye.

"He's beautiful, Natalia," Melina murmured.

"May I hold him? I washed my hands," Alexi asked eagerly.

"Of course," you replied, carefully passing the baby to Alexi. The sight of the mighty Red Guardian tenderly cradling your newborn son made you smile.

"Hello, Nikolai. I'm your dedushka," Alexi said affectionately. "You're so adorable; yes, you are."

As he spoke, Nikolai slowly opened his eyes, and you could have sworn you saw your father-in-law's heart swell with love.

Alexi gently placed the baby in Melina’s arms. Your mother-in-law had always been a complex and enigmatic figure. She was one of the longest-tenured widows, and her resilience made her one of the strongest women in your eyes. As she cradled your newborn son in her arms, a single tear traced its way down her cheek, revealing a depth of emotion and vulnerability that you had never seen before.

Yelena inched toward you and whispered, “He won them over faster than you did.”

*^~^*

The next morning, Thor joined in to assist with packing while Clint hurried to the store to purchase an infant car seat for Nikolai. You were a family of two when you arrived, and you were leaving a family of three.

After a swift diaper change, Natasha placed your precious bundle of joy in his carrier. "Time to head home, Nik," you said, taking his tiny hand in yours.

You bid farewell to everyone and securely placed Nikolai's carrier beside you on the Quinjet.

Nat smiled as she prepared the Quinjet for takeoff. Your first Quinjet ride," she said. "You're already an overachiever, moy sladkiy mal'chik" (my sweet little boy).

Your phone suddenly vibrates with a flurry of notifications.

"The team group chat is blowing up, sweetheart," showing Natasha your phone.

Nick Fury: Congratulations on the arrival of your precious son, Nikolai! It's heartwarming to see the Avengers family welcoming the newest member. Everyone at SHIELD looks forward to meeting him and supporting you and Natasha.

Steve Rogers: Hey, Y/N and Nat, huge congratulations! I'm so excited to meet Nikolai, the newest addition to our Avenger family. 🎖️

Wanda Maximoff: Congratulations to you both! All those cliches, those things you hear about having a baby and motherhood—all of them are true. And all of them are the most beautiful things you will ever experience. I’ll drop off some food for you both in the morning. 🥰

Clint Barton: Hey, Y/N! Make sure Nikolai is securely fastened in his infant carrier. I hope he sleeps the whole way back. If he gets fussy, let Nat know to ask FRIDAY to turn on the cabin pressure stabilization. It's a feature I insisted Stark add to the Quinjet after SHIELD found out I had kids. You're welcome. 😏

Laura Barton: I know things didn't go as planned, but I'm grateful we could share in your special day, Y/N. Nikolai is absolutely beautiful! Please let Nat know that I'll give her a call tomorrow. 😊

Tony Stark: Rushman! Y/L/N! Congratulations on the arrival of your precious son. Nikolai will bring you endless joy and fulfillment and become your favorite reason to lose sleep for the rest of your lives. 😉

Pepper Stark: Congratulations! I'm so happy for you and Nat. I can only imagine how incredible it must feel to look into Nikolai's eyes and feel like everything is right in the world. Please don't hesitate to reach out if there's anything I can do to help. Sending lots of love! ❤️

Bruce Banner: I'm truly sorry I couldn't be there; I’m thrilled for you and Natasha. I can't wait to meet Nikolai! 💚

Maria Hill: Congratulations, Y/N and Nat, on the arrival of baby Nikolai Odison! I can't wait to meet the little bundle of joy and see those tiny fingers and toes. The name Nikolai Odison Romanoff is absolutely beautiful. I spoke with Thor this morning, and the honor deeply moved him. 🥹

Thor Odinson: I am incredibly grateful to have been present for the birth of your son, Nikolai Odison Romanoff. Your decision to include me in this momentous occasion is a great honor, and I want to assure you that I will always be there to support and care for all of you. The arrival of Nikolai is a joyous event, and I am committed to being a steadfast presence in his life. ⚡

Peter Parker: Y/N! Congratulations on the arrival of Nikolai! I'm so thrilled for you and Nat. What does he look like? Does he have your hair or Natasha’s? What color are his eyes? I'm already thinking about all the adventures we'll have with him. I'm going to text Nat right now. I can't wait to meet him! 💙

Yelena Belova: Give my little nephew a kiss and hug from me. Also, heads up - Mom and Dad are considering staying with you for eight weeks to help care for Nikolai. Happy Parenting! 😂

Kate Bishop: Yelena is sitting next to me, and she can't stop laughing, so I'm going to assume that everything is going well. Please give Nikolai a kiss and hug from me! 🩵

*^~^*

You and Natasha stood together at the front of the Quinjet, the hum of the engines surrounding you as the aircraft soared safely through the sky.

“Nikolai is sound asleep. I don't think your parents have taken their eyes off our son since they got here,” turning around to see Melina and Alexi lovingly admiring their grandson.

Nat lovingly reached for your hand. “Our son,” she repeated with a big smile.

Nat took her place in the pilot's seat and turned off the autopilot as you settled in beside her.

"Come on, Y/N. Let’s go home.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x you #avengers x reader #mcu #fluff #clint barton #Laura Barton #cooper barton #lila barton #nathaniel barton #yelena boleva #kate bishop #helen cho #thor odinson #platonic #easter

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