#I don't plan on making her an OC in the long run like I did with Riralyne

[foreveranonymousfa]

I am normal and can be trusted with a new laptop and modding Skyrim 👀👀👀

This is my new character Felinwen. She is a completely bonkers extremist Green Pact Bosmer that doubles as a werewolf (not how that works). Truly, the best way to consume the Meat and Flesh of other beings is in the form of a Beast yourself (this literally goes against the green pact). She's been exiled from Valenwood due to being A Little Crazy. She's convinced that gorging meats brings her closer to Y'ffre (ok babe w/e). Surely The Ooze will understand :)

[evilminji]

My ONGOING "SI-OC Ponderings that my Muse is haunting me with but I may never get around to write" Series!

Because, fuck it, might as well. Maybe it will inspire somebody?

Jedi Youngling! Staring down that double barrel Order 66! FUCK.

Now, see, they don't blame the Clones. They don't even blame the Jedi. Whole lot of "victims of circumstance and our Wrong Place Wrong Time environment" going on. But? Are they gonna lay down and take it? Fffffuck no!

They JUST got this body!

Also?

THESE ARE BABIES.

They, An ADULT, have a god damned MORAL OBLIGATION to save as many of this itty bitty alien babies as they can. They warn the adults, obviously. But they FULLY expect? And are unsurprised? When they DON'T LISTEN.

There is a Force Damned PRECEDENT for that. (May you finally rest in peace now, Master Sifo-Dyas.)

The younglings though? THEY didn't get to make a choice. THEY are innocents. And as the only ADULT with knowledge of what's to come? It's HER moral, ethical, and Force given obligation to PROTECT them until they can do so themselves.

As a Jedi... she has to PICK.

Try to save the adults? Those who willfully chose ignorance AND have the ability to defend themselves? To fight and flee under their own power? Or... save the younglings, the infants and babies. Those whose ignorance is that of the young and still learning? Who CAN NOT fight. Can Not run?

It's no choice at all. And if they truely understood? She can only hope they would command her to do EXACTLY as she is doing. Would demand no less. Consider it UNTHINKABLE to ever choose them.

She searches out the hidden passages. Practices lifting things instead of sword stances. She will need to carry so much. Move so quickly. She KNOWS where the attack will come from... Force willing, if she plans well? The Creches will be EMPTY by the time the soilders arrive.

But for that? She must steal. Redirect. Take things from where they should be. It is easier then it should be. First because no expects true mischief from a child, then? Because a war has begun.

Restriction Bolts of the Temple droids and a simple explanation is enough to gain their assistance. It's illogical not to have a plan, even if you never use it. And through them? "Liberated" data jewels. Already plumbed for all the information they're good for. High end, too.

Perfect.

She wipes them all. Fashion's a belt that, one day, Force willing she might wear as a necklace. Then sets to work coping EVERYTHING about the Jedi. When the temple is lost? Their history should not be.

So long as this string of jewels alone survives.

The Jedi are remembered. Luke with not have to start over from half memories and hearsay. They can learn from the past AND still have it. She puts diaries, prophecies, books the jedi wrote for fun. Various Force sects both past and still alive. Teaching methods. Anything. Everything.

A time capsule.

It HAS to be enough.

She fears it's not. Sneaks into the hall of retired Sabers. Sits. And opens her mind to them all. Please. Please! She knows. She's so, SO sorry. You were done. You EARNED your rest. She would not ask this if youngling were not on the line. If Illum might not become to dangerous to travel too.

....if she did not fear what would become of you, should you stay.

The Sith is coming. He WILL take the temple.

Will you come with me now?

Some do, some promise to die, and die VICIOUS. Swear to blow to deadly shrapnel in the hands of any who dare come for them. Others leave their casings. Willing to come, but not as they were. She apologizes for the indignity, as she stuffs them all in the hidden paths.

Honestly? They muse. They've seen worse. Remember that-? WE DO NOT SPEAK OF THAT. HE WAS TRYING HIS BEST, OKAY?!

And all throughout? One must wonder. What do the other younglings think? That OC is strange? Mad? To be ostracized? No, of course not. She is nice. Listens when they're upset. Does not judge or make every emotion a test. Hugs come readily and her mind FEELS older. Like the Creche Master.

And? If Master YODA can be short? Why not OC? She just lives with them. The other Knights and Master's don't listen to her because she Sees things. It scares them. They SAY they do. But children know the difference, don't they? Between what you promise you'll do... and what you'll ACTUALLY do?

But see, the Creche Master's? Increasingly distracted. Preparing the eldest of their charges for WAR ZONES. It's stressful. The fact that the youngers are quiet? SHOULD raise alarm bells. They KNOW better. But they are distracted.

The ones who DO notice? Are the orphan Padawan. The older initiates. People assigned to "help out".

There aren't enough mind healers. Not enough hands to help around the Creche. It was considered a good idea. Young children are full of uncomplicated Light! Yes, Yoda. They are. But as with Obi-Wan, so too with the Crechelings? Children are NOT here to mend the hurts of their elders. That is NOT their purpose.

They are exposing the youngers to Fear and Grief. Broken bonds and the echos of war. This is NOT good for young force sensitives.

Yet... are THEY not young Force Sensitives? Children too? OC knows they are. And it is a bitterness on her tounge. She does what she can. Because SHE is and adult. They notice too. How can they not? The other children turn to her, she guides them through their day. She gives "projects" and listens to concerns. Walks everyone through meditation.

......runs everyone through the Evacuation Plan? WHAT Evacuation Plan?

Oh.

It... it helps. Having something they are PART of. Doing TOGETHER. Something to combat the growing, creeping, darkness that is not violence and death. This? This is planning. Preparation. It... it feels like have some sense of control again, after everything has become senseless and OUT of control. Yet? It is not DARK. Not seeking to force control on others.

It is just... quietly stepping back.

One foot, then another. Calmly and with grief. Letting go, knowing you have tried, as you leave those who have made their choices to the fates they chose. Silently slipping out the door before the building begins to burn. Just as you warned them. Just as they refused to hear.

It's okay to grieve.

Even those who are still alive.

Of course, Shadows ARE supposed to notice unusual movements. Spies and Falling are a concern. Heeey, little youngling! How's things? Just swinging byyyy~☆ soft interrogation tactics~! Gonna admit to any of the Blatant Theft?

Yes, actually. Good you are here. Saves OC the trouble of trying to figure out who is and isn't a Shadow. Kinda convenient, Master Vos, that it's you. What's the fastest set of ships you could stash at the exit to this and THIS hidden path? By this date?

He's sorry, what?

You heard her.

Tiny youngling, unflinching, staring him down and asking for ships like that's a thing she has any right to do? Why? Well... that depends. Are you actually going to listen, Master Vos, or do you want an answer that will comfort you?

Excuse me.

Do you remember? Master Vos, the suffering of Sifo-Dyas? A temple full of Jedi, a seat upon it's council, yet not a single soul would hear him. Would truely listen. How many Knights? How many Masters? Tell me, Master Vos, exactly how many have DIED for willful ignorance and attachment to peaceful days?

There could not POSSIBLY be Sith. So we will not train or prepare. There can not POSSIBLY be a war, Sifo-Dyas, so be consumed by your fear alone. Die, alone. Let Padawan and peacekeepers be Generals. Because what the Force has shown you? It is happening today.

So we refuse to see it. Cling to the present, Master Vos.

Isn't it so COMFORTING here?

You don't have to know what might be. Don't have to ACT. Can be blind and choose ignorance.

A vision then? He surely concludes. For he is no fool. And the Youngling just looks tired. Eats their meal. Answer the question, Master Vos. Do you remember? Was Master Kenobi's suffering also ignored? How well did that work out. Will you LISTEN or have you already come to your conclusions, and now simply seek information to support them?

....he wants to. He does. But you're like, four.

OC nods. Fair. She can see the genuine conflict on his face. He HEARD her. But can not let go of what his eyes tell him. The Force is too muddled here. She too, would have a hard time trusting a small child with something so serious. But.... she can not change her path. And neither can he.

May the Force Be With You, Master Vos.

Plan Besh it is.

She is a small adorable child. The Coruscant gaurd are overworked and filled with spite. Who wants caff and bribery~? Do they clock her immediately? Yes. Is this hilarious. Also yes. Who did you kill, small child? We promise not to be mad.

No one, yet. Could change. She would prefere it not. But who knows. Anyway~☆! Do any of YOU caff loving (here have a refill) gentleman happen to know of any asshole Goverment Officals with REALLY fast ships that run primarily of droid piloting? With potentially easily disabled trackers? Not that she, a small child, would be DOING anything with this information!

It's just neat information to know! *innocent blinking of innocence*

Uh huh. And they were decanted yesterday.

That SAID.... they have a list. Oh noooo! They dropped the list! So much effort to pick it up. Hey, kid, could pick that up and definitely not steal it for us? Good baby Jedi. Thanks for the Caff. Tell Vos to stop haunting the lower levels. It's OUR job to hunt criminals for sport, not his.

Yes, sir o7

Of she goes? To the Senatorial Garage. It's mostly droids. Of LOOK! I have this handy little tool! Pop. Pop, pop, pop~! Hey? Wanna fuck over the asshole who doesn't appreciate you, steal this ship, AND save the lives of small children?

BOY WOULD THEY! Says local every droid in the Ship pool.

Great! Just figure out where the trackers are, how to turn them off, and when it's time? Meet a one of these locations for pick up. We're gonna NEED you. Like... actually NEED. Not "I'm throwing my money around on the latest and greatest then not USING THEM FOR ANYTHING" supposedly need. You'll have SO MUCH WORK.

(They're gonna cry in Binary. Omg? Fuckin FINALLY???)

And so... inevitably. The clock ticks down. The drama of adults ramps up. They smuggle a few clone troopers through surgery. Try to warn the others. Know it won't be enough. The momentum is too great. The gears of War will grind over everything.

Like a forest fire... the old has to burn away for new growth.

But like hell is she letting that come at the cost of tiny bodies. Clones trapped in their minds forced to fire upon children. There will be enough horrors this day. This can be on less. They WILL be ready. And... they are.

She sees the council running out. Knows what it means. And she does NOT hesitate. Her signal goes out. Her Padawan helpers dropping everything to BOLT for the Creche and the go bags stored there. They are followed by friends. Who do not understand, but trust them. Who's Master's do not understand, but assume this is some plan they were not told off.

It certainly seems so, when in the distance? They hear the temple gaurds fighting to hold the line. Hear blasterfire. They race down the hidden paths. Are met with droids, loading up food and medicine, leave as soon as each ship has the assigned numbers. Again and again. Senatorial chips mean instant pass into space. Important business, you understand.

The droids will follow, with everything. Including what was nailed down. Probably the nails too.

Might steal the hammers while they're at it.

Next stop? Wild Space.

Explorcorps newest finds. FRESHLY deleted. All points warning already being sent. A Fuck You Very MUCH, Sith-y Pants. You'll not be getting ANY of the Corps workers if THEY can help it. And hey... the Masters and a few knights were a pleasant suprise. Them and their squad of rescue troopers? Almost make enough adults to take care of everybody!

Now all they have to do? Is hide, rebuild, and regrow.

Return when Luke has down his Luke thing.

Who knows... not her. She made a plan and she DID it. Some one else can decide for a while. She's just a kid. Tell her when they get there, okay?

[woso-dreamzzz]

Reina

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You meet Natalia's cat

If you were to describe yourself, you would say you were an animal person. You didn't really make distinctions between whether you were a dog or cat person. You like all animals equally.

Prins was an absolute darling and stuck firmly to your side like he was made for it. He was soft and excitable and was more than able to keep up on your daily runs.

But, it had to be said, there was something about soft, cuddly cats that really got you.

Exactly like the one that was currently rubbing herself all over you.

"She likes you!" Natalia looks delighted, face split wide open in a big smile.

"I like her!"

Reina purrs as you scratch behind her ears, bumping her head more firmly into your hand. Her calico ears twitch slightly when you stop stroking so you redouble your efforts.

Meeting Reina was something that Natalia had been trying to get you to do for weeks now. You'd fully settled in at Barcelona now, even gaining the confidence to stray from her side every now and then and get to know your new teammates privately.

Natalia had been begging you to come over for dinner and meet Reina since the very first week.

You'd put it off for a while with the excuse of getting settled in and then the day you had planned to do it had been taken over by Tia Tana dropping in with strict instructions from your mothers to check you were taking care of yourself.

So, that was why now, you were soaking up all the cat cuddles you could get.

Reina certainly lived up to her name. Elegance seemed to be her main character trait. She was practically show perfect with her long fur and large body.

"Did you just take a picture of me?" You ask when you hear the sound of a phone shutter.

Natalia grins at you. "I have to document this. My two girls, finally meeting." Her tone was wistful and your face burnt red.

You think you kind of like that, being one of Natalia's girls.

"You're lucky she's cute," You reply before smiling down at Reina again," Yes, you are. So cute."

Reina lets out a little chirp before leaning into your space to sniff at your neck. You let her, looking down at the ground to where Prins was whining.

He was doing a good job behaving himself for a puppy so little and Natalia had practically insisted that you bring him along for this occasion.

"Are they ignoring you, little man?" Natalia coos," I'm sorry." She kneels down on the floor to pet him as Reina finally stops sniffing at you.

She brushes her cheek against your shoulder before turning around to peer down at Prins.

Happy with all of this new attention, he jumps up to rest against your legs, stretching as far as he could to greet Reina.

She looks a little insulted by him but leans down to properly make her decision. She stares, unblinking for several seconds before leaping down from your lap.

She inspects Prins at his level which is kind of funny because she towers over him.

She baps him over the head a few times before clearly deciding that he's hers because she tries to pick him up by the scuff of his neck.

It doesn't quite work because he's a bit too big for that so she just kind of ends up herding him where she wants him to go before settling down and grooming him.

Natalia joins you on the sofa, an arm automatically thrown over your shoulders as she settles by your side.

"She likes him."

"I think she thinks that he's her kitten."

"That's sweet. I'm glad they're getting along." She smirks at you, her arm tightening around you. "That means I never have to let you leave."

You roll your eyes. "Except for training."

"Except for training," Natalia agrees," But you agree then? That I should keep you and Prins here?"

"I don't think Reina will let him leave."

You both look over to watch Reina firmly drag Prins back into the cat bed when he tries to leave. He sends you a wounded look as you laugh when Reina practically sits on him and focusses her attention on grooming his back.

"It's the Scandinavian in her," You reply.

Natalia groans good-naturedly. "I take it back. You and Prins can leave. I don't want to be outnumbered by three Scandinavians."

"I mean," You shrug," Technically only Reina and I are Scandinavians. Finland doesn't count."

"But Norway does?! How's that fair?"

You laugh. "Have you ever looked at a map? Finland doesn't count as Scandinavia."

"Your countries confuse me," Natalia laughs too.

"I can leave now, if you really want." You jokingly move to get up but Natalia keeps a firm grip on you. It feels nice, like being wrapped up safely in your baby blanket again and you sag into Natalia's body against yours.

Her arms move from your shoulders because of the change of position. You're sitting between her legs now, splayed out on the sofa and she wraps her arms gently around your waist.

Her grip is firm though and two fingers draw soft patterns on your hip, occasionally going up and under your shirt to draw circles on your side.

The pressure of her hands on you makes your head go a little floaty. You've never seen Natalia do this with any of your teammates at training but it's private here, in her home, so you suppose that she feels like she can be a bit more touchy.

Friendships back home weren't like this. You'd be hard pressed to find any of your friends willing to even hold your hand let alone your waist so this is dangerously new territory.

Selfishly, you wish that her hand would go a bit lower. It makes you feel guilty even entertaining the thought because Natalia's your friend and it isn't right to take advantage of her touchiness.

You can feel her breath on the back of your neck though and it makes your blush spread all through your body.

"So," You manage to get out, desperately trying to not get lost in the feeling of Natalia against you," Are we having dinner or what?"

"My company isn't enough?"

"Your company is perfect," You assure her, desperately wishing she knew just how perfect she really was," But, seriously, I was promised cat cuddles and food. I've had the cuddles. I need the food."

"Maybe we'll hold off on dinner for a bit longer," Natalia says," I like this position too much to move. Is that good with you?"

"That's perfectly fine with me."

[bratbarzal]

On Your Side (NH13) / Chapter Nine

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen

WC: 23k (have fun!!)

18+ MDNI!

Chapter Warnings: so we're hitting the ground running here - poppy is horny in abundance tbh so smut!! thigh riding, dry humping, unprotected p in v, she's just a girl who wants what she wants and who are we to judge or kink shame?? that's what I thought. and the rest of this chapter just has some lighthearted banter between two pals welcoming a baby into the world. mentions of anxiety, the usual. poppy is on edge because there's another jensen family dinner. nia being nia, the boys being the boys. if guys talking about women's hormones disturbs you look away now. jealous nico once again, a gender reveal!!!! the fluffiest one you ever did see to be honest. there's maybe a point in this where you could get second hand embarrassment but that's not my problem. honestly I've written this chapter so out of order I don't even know what else is in here or if it all links but you get what you're given atp.

Series Masterlist

Previous Part (Chapter Eight)

A/N: this is potentially my favourite chapter yet these two are so stinkin cute!!!! months ago I had a fleeting thought about a pregnancy pillow and wrote a little thing in my notes about it, and this whole fic so far (150k+ words shoutout all my yappers) has been bred from that single scene which is in this chapter. nine chapters to get the the first thought I ever had of Poppy and Nico. I really hope you guys like it and I'm sorry that this has been the longest between updates yet. hopefully a 20k chapter makes up for it. my plan was always 12 chapters but idk if it will end up being more but just the thought that this is potentially over in 3 or 4 chapters is CRAZY I'm so attached to these two idk what to do with myself!! also once again shoutout to rory @h1sch13r for always inspiring me when it comes to these two and little baby (pepper) cheeto I hope I can make up for spoiling the gender to you like an idiot weeks ago with how cute this reveal is lmao

Poppy

Poppy has given endless thought and mind space to the situation that might bring her and Nico back into some sort of intimate space, together.

A romantic, candle lit dinner, where she’s so in the moment that it only makes sense for them to turn it into something more - baby steps be damned, and he’d take her back to that huge bed of his that she loves so much and keep her there until she can’t function properly, anymore.

A movie night, cuddled up on the couch together, where them spooning ends up with his hand down her pants, or her on top of him as whatever scene flashes in the background, the movie long forgotten as they get lost in each other. 

She hadn’t given much thought to it happening in her office, with him finding her all pent up and frustrated after a long day, and he’s all freshly showered after training, his hair still damp and his t-shirt clinging to him in all the right places.

It’s a single look that has her throwing herself at him, hands cupping either side of his face to pull him down until he’s tired of craning his neck, and his hands lift her hips until he’s walking her back and planting her down on her desk.

He pushes at her skirt, pulls at her panties, and pops the buttons of her blouse, all while their mouths move around each other’s, gasps and groans falling between them and hands wandering everywhere they can possibly go. 

She tugs at his hair, bunches his t-shirt in her grip and leans into his every touch, falling back onto her palms when their lips part and moves to pepper kisses along her jaw.

“We shouldn’t do this here,” she whispers as his lips press into her neck, pressure firm as the sensitive skin there gets sucked into his mouth, his stubble scratching into her skin in such a way that she opens up even more for him - head craning back, legs widening, hips pushing right to the end of her desk where his thigh presses between them.

“No?” He mutters into her, “You want me to stop?”

“No.” She pouts, and he chuckles against her flesh, the hot air from between his lips sending shivers all the way down her spine. “Of course I don’t want you to stop.”

He hums, pressing his thigh straight against her heat, and she grinds onto it through sheer instinct, seeking whatever pleasure he can give her and moaning out in response as soon as she feels the contact.

“Good girl,” he praises, swiping his chin against the skin he’s marked up until she hisses at the feeling, the prickly hairs on his jaw scraping against where she feels like she’s been rubbed red-raw.

It isn’t until he takes her jaw in his hand, pinching slightly to pull her toward him and slotting their lips together that her hips start to gyrate of their own accord, rubbing against his thigh without shame in the middle of her office, her nails clawing into the wood of her desk until she hopes they leave some sort of mark.

“That feel good?” He mumbles into her mouth, a hand of his falling onto her hip to assist with the movements before he kisses her again.

She just hums against him, eyes screwed shut as she tries to savour the feeling when her clit presses straight against his thigh, his pants being the only barrier. 

“M’just gonna move you a little, yeah?”

She nods, mindlessly.

And then his hand is gripping at her thigh, fingers and thumb pressing into the flesh firmly to push her legs even further apart so that he can stand between them, and he unbuttons his jeans with his free hand until he can push them down. 

She can’t complain at the lack of friction when this is what she’s getting as a result.

She can see the firm outline of him through his briefs as she looks down between them, her mouth watering slightly just at the sight, until her view is obstructed by his face when he kisses her again.

She tilts her hips in anticipation, ready to meet him when he moves to push into her, but the feeling she gets instead is different. Similar to before, a layer of fabric sits between them as he presses his hips into hers, still not having undressed completely.

She whines, lips pouting so he’s kissing at them as they remain still, and he keeps at it, hips working into her own until he gets frustrated at her lack of response. 

“What’s wrong, huh?” He asks, pulling her hips forward himself until he’s right against her and she gasps, “Why’re you being pouty?”

“S’not enough,” she mumbles, “Need more.”

“Aw pretty girl,” he pouts himself, mockingly, “I’m not giving you what you need?”

She shakes her head.

“Thought this is what you wanted? To take things slow?”

“Not this.” She whines, her hand trailing down his abdomen, feeling the soft ridges even beneath his t-shirt, until they meet the elastic of his pants, snapping it teasingly against his skin. “Think you should fuck me.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

The smile he gives reads like a promise of everything to come, of all the dirty, sinful things he’s been waiting all this time to do for her, and she feels her heart jump and thud in response. 

He closes the distance again, so that she can’t see between them, his tongue lapping languidly against her own and she’s moaning into his mouth when she feels what she has been craving pressing against her entrance, pressing to slide up until it bumps against her clit and her back arches straight into him.

She feels sticky all over. Lightheaded and far-off like she isn’t even here, and when he finally pushes into her, she’s startled back into clarity.

The shrill beeping of her phone alarm rings on the nightstand right beside her head, and when her eyes adjust to the light, she feels tears of frustration well up in them at the realisation of what she’s just been deprived of.

She still feels sticky. Still feels lightheaded. Feels hot all over and tingly like she’s been left unsatisfied.

Only now, there’s no promise of any sort of reward for it.

She’s alone in her bed with nothing but a pillow for company, and she’s so exasperated she wants to scream.

Yet another cursed pregnancy dream she gets no form of relief or respite from.

She could honestly curse the Hischier genes if this is what they bring.

She’s tired of it, now.

Most of the time, she’s usually able to shake her dreams off as soon as she’s awake, but this one seems to linger in her mind, an ever-present heat creeping up her skin despite the fact she tries to wash it away in the shower.

She feels hot as she gets ready, feels hot as she drives to work, and even in her office, where she can turn on the AC and try to distract herself.

Only that doesn’t work, either. 

Obviously.

She’s brought herself to the one place that’s going to bring the whole picture back.

So she ventures upstairs to the supply closet, deciding to fill a box with everything she’s low on just to pass the time - to occupy her mind with something other than the thought of Nico, and him having her legs spread on top of her desk.

She’s closing up when she hears the distant call of her name.

“I’ll take that.” Luke appears seemingly out of nowhere as she’s in her own world, coming toward her before she really has a chance to do anything about it. “Can’t have you carrying these things on your own.”

“It’s not that heavy,” Poppy protests as he takes the box from her hands, clearly not believing her or expecting how light it would be when he takes it into his own. “Told you.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s best you don’t lift anything, too much work on your body could make your feet swell, and that might not go down. Did you know most women go up a shoe size when they’re pregnant?”

All she can do is blink at him, narrowing her eyes as he talks like he isn’t being a complete weirdo. “I didn’t, how did you know that?”

“I bought a book.” He shrugs as he starts on the way back to her office.

“You bought a-,” she stumbles to follow after him, his long strides already carrying him halfway down the hall, “Luke, you’re gonna end up weirding yourself out with that sort of stuff.”

Him and Jack have both been on at her all week since they found out, appearing to take it in turns to bombard her with gross pregnancy facts, like Nia and the girl with the list - although she’s at least had the decency not to mention that since finding out, herself.

The boys, however, have branded themselves the Funcles, already regaling Poppy with stories of how they’re going to be the ones to make her baby laugh for the first time. 

It shouldn’t stress her out, the thought of those two being responsible for a baby - not with Mr Research in front of her - but it does. Luke would probably learn too many weird facts, and stress himself into some kind of almighty meltdown.

She had to block them last night for her own peace.

“Too late. I already know too much.”

“Like what?”

“I know that as of this week, your baby has started peeing inside you, which is absolutely gross.”

That is gross. She didn’t know that. She doesn’t really want to know that. If only she could block him in real life, too.

“I need you to hand the book over.”

“Can’t, Jack’s reading it now, we’re very serious about this funcle thing.”

“Luke,” she warns, not wanting to be on the receiving end of this horror from everybody.

“What? The more we know the better we can help you.”

“What book did you get that from?” She scoffs, pressing the button for the elevator while his hands are full.

“Same one. It’s good, I’ll tell Jack to give it to Nico after, it’s all about what you’ll be going through in each stage of your pregnancy-,”

“Nico doesn’t need the book, Luke, he’s going through it with me.” She frowns a little as she says it, a little voice in her head telling her it isn’t exactly working out like that. “And I thought me blocking you guys would have made it clear enough, I don’t want your weird facts. If I need to know something, I’ll find out from my doctor, not your deep dives on the internet.”

“Hey, to be fair, I was just trying to prepare you with the thing about your brain.” They step into the elevator and she presses the button for her floor,  “Maybe yours won’t shrink, maybe you’ll-,”

“Nope. No more talk about pregnancy symptoms. You’re on a time out, funcle privileges revoked. If you want to be unblocked, you’ve got to give up Google.”

“I don’t know if it’s worth it, I use Google for everything,” he frowns, like this is an actual thing he needs to seriously consider, “How will I know what I can and can’t eat?”

“You’re not a dog, Luke, if you can buy it, you can eat it.”

“I can buy bleach-,”

“You know exactly what I meant.”

“Fine. No more Google.” Luke huffs, stepping out with Poppy as the doors slide open, “But if I eat an unidentifiable seed and it’s poisonous, we all know who’s to blame.”

“Maybe stay away from seeds, then?”

“My body is a temple, PJ, you can’t tell me what goes in.”

If he wasn’t doing her a wasted favour with the box, she’d probably give him a hearty shove. He can be so irritating when he wants to be. Now she has his death-by-unidentifiable-seed weighing on her conscience.

“Got to get all my nutrients in if I’m gonna be Mitchie’s favourite uncle, Nico looks like the type of dude that makes chunky babies.”

He probably isn’t wrong, not that she entirely wants to think about it, but baby Cheeto measures a little over expectations every time she has a scan, and her bump is a little bigger than the average, she has been told.

“I really don’t want those kinds of ideas in my head,” she pouts, her mind immediately going to the delivery aspect of it all, relief flooding her system as her office finally comes into sight, “And for the last time, I’m not calling my baby Mitchie short for Michigan.”

“It’s better than calling it Cheeto,” Luke scoffs, “At least Mitchie is unisex.”

Poppy gasps, stopping and placing two hands over her bump as if she’s covering tiny little ears in there. “Words hurt, Luke, you’re hardly gonna be favourite uncle chirping my baby in the womb.”

“Actually, it can’t hear anything outside of your body until like 28 weeks.”

“If I could block you in person, I would.” She’s pushing the door to her office open as she says it, turning to face him and walking in backwards to give him a meaningful glare when she notices his face twist in confusion at something behind her.

When she spins around to see what he’s bothered by, she sees a tall figure stood by her wall, hands in his pockets as he looks over the photographs that line it - and even from the back, she can tell who it is.

“Dad, what are you doing here?”

“Looking at all your pictures, I’ve never seen any of these before.”

That’s because you don’t care about my work, she withholds from biting back, remembering Luke’s presence behind her and not at all prepared to have any sort of family bust up today - especially not in work. “You’re from this one. 43. A little scrawny to be an athlete, aren’t you son?” He points to one of the pictures, one of Poppy, Luke, Johnny and Holtzy before a game at the beginning of the season. 

“I’m-,” Luke frowns, almost comically if Poppy wasn’t too tense now to laugh, “Scrawny?”

“Look like you’d snap in two if I ran at you too hard.”

“Aren’t you a little old to be running at people?” Maybe she isn’t too tense to laugh. “Respectfully, I mean.”

“Thank you for your help, Luke,” Poppy takes the box from his hands and immediately puts it on the couch in the corner before he can protest, making eyes at him to get out of there before it’s too late. It’s for his own safety. “I’ll unblock you later, I promise.”

“Right.” He nods, “Catch you later, PJ. Good to meet you, sir.”

He dashes out so quick she swears he leaves a Luke shaped outline in his wake, her door swinging shut before she can even call out a response. 

“No pictures of the boyfriend?” Her dad asks once he’s gone, taking another quick look over the wall.

“They’re at home.” She says, going around the other side of her desk so that there’s some sort of barrier between them. “Did something happen? Is that why you’re here?”

“Cant a father visit his daughter at work?”

“If he can name her job title without looking it up, then sure.”

“I don’t need to know your job title, Poppet, I know the day you were born and how much you weighed, beyond that, I’m not expected to remember the little things.”

It isn’t the little things, she thinks, it’s my career.

“Whatever,” she sighs, not wanting to get into it, “What are you here for, dad?”

He sits in the chair opposite her, looking a little large for life now that she’s properly seeing him in front of her. It’s like when he would sit at her tea parties as a kid, always too big for the chairs and table.

“I came to say that what happened at dinner last week was embarrassing.”

She can’t help but roll her eyes, despite how petulant he probably thinks it is, crossing her legs and wiggling her mouse to bring her computer to life, hoping if she looks busy enough this conversation will be much shorter.

She’s been trying not to think about it, trying to suppress the floods of disappointment that wash over her every time she remembers it. Her mother’s biting words, her father’s indifference, it all hurts just the same.

“I’m not gonna apologise for defending myself, or defending Nico, I don’t care if I humiliated-,”

“I was embarrassed of myself.”

“I-,” Oh. Just as she feels herself start to get defensive again, his words register. “What?”

“I’m your dad, I’m supposed to stick up for you and have your back.” He frowns, “Especially knowing how hard your mom is on you, and what you’re going through, I was just blindsided by the whole Rich Horowitz thing with your brother, and-,”

“You’re supposed to stick up for him, too, dad. You’re just as hard on Oli.” She doesn’t know why she’s defending her brother after what he did, but after all these years it’s almost like a second nature. She can snap at him, but if anyone else does the same, she won’t let it slide.

“Says you, you called him an idiot.”

“Yeah, well he got under my skin.”

“He was being an idiot. We all were, that’s why it’s embarrassing.” He sighs, “It took your boyfriend stealing my job for me to realise-,”

“Stealing your job?”

What on Earth does he mean by that? 

“What is it that you kids say? He handed my ass to me?”

“What kid taught you that?” Oli’s boys are too young to know that one, and it won’t have come from her brother. Is the demographic at the club really that young these days that someone’s teaching her dad the meaning of having his ass handed to him? It can’t have been Nico. “What do you mean?”

“After you and your mother stormed off, he gave me and your brother a verbal spanking, if you will.”

I won’t, she thinks, unable to stop the grimace that comes out in instinctual response at her father mentioning spanking.

“He yelled at you?”

“Well I can’t picture the boy yelling, Poppy, he’s a little gentle-mannered, don’t you think?” His tone is patronising, but from the way this conversation is going, she doesn’t think that’s his intention, for once. “That isn’t a bad thing, of course! I wouldn’t want my daughter to be with a man so quick to raise his voice, anyway.”

“What did he say?”

“That’s probably up to him to tell you.” He shrugs, “He just made me realise that I haven’t been the most supportive of you lately. With all this,” his hands gesture around the room, “And that,” and then towards her belly. “And I didn’t give either of you a chance the other week. I’d like to get to know the guy who sat at a table in my house and had the guts to put me in my place. Have a do-over.”

Her mouth hangs open at the revelation, blinking slowly as she tries to come to terms with what her father has just said.

Nico stood up for her? To her dad? After how eager he was to impress him and bond with him over something - he just laid down the law on how she deserves to be treated? Like it’s nothing for him to do so? And he didn’t even tell her he’d done so, didn’t even try to get some brownie points?

And her dad respected it enough to come all the way out here and ask for another shot?

“You want a do-over?”

“I do. One of my golfing buddies has a suite at Madison Square Garden, he’s a big Knicks guy, but he rarely uses it for the Rangers, he’s said we can use it for the game on Wednesday. It is your guys they’re playing, right?”

The game on Wednesday.

Who is this man and what has he done with her dad?

Her dad who has never shown anything but distain for hockey in his life, has voiced it so much to Poppy since she started working with the Devils that she stopped talking about work, entirely.

She nods, anyway.

“And then we’re gonna treat you and Nico to lunch on Thursday, if he’s free.”

“We?”

“Me and your mother.”

Poppy gulps. She’ll probably have something to say about Nico speaking up in her defence. 

“She’ll be on her best behaviour, I’ve had assurances.”

“Right,” she scoffs, finding that hard to believe. “I don’t know, Dad, I don’t think a game against the Rangers is the best place to do this-,”

“I want to understand your world, Poppy.”

Well that’s a cruel thing to say to an overly emotional pregnant woman, she thinks, eyes watering at the thought that maybe this could actually be a turning point for them. 

All thanks to Nico.

“Okay.” She agrees, despite her better judgement warning her against doing so.

“Great. I’ll email you the details for the suite. I have to go, your mom is getting her hair done and I won’t hear the end of it if I’m late to meet back up with her.”

“You guys are over this way?”

“We’re in midtown for a conference on Tuesday, we’ll be going back on Thursday after lunch.”

Poppy just nods in response, having nothing more to say to the fact they’re just across the river and neither thought to check up on her.

She supposes this is that, her dad checking up, so she lets it go as she rounds the table to hug him goodbye before he leaves her alone with her thoughts.

She’s only alone for a minute before her door opens without a knock, and she looks up to see an out of breath Nico barging into her office, skin almost glossy with sweat and still donned in his team gym gear. 

He pants to catch his breath once he has closed the door behind him, putting his hands on his hips and frowning over at Poppy, who can’t help the alarm that crosses her own features.

“Are you okay?” She stands and rounds back to his side of her desk, standing before him to get a better look, assessing for any way in which he could be hurt, because why else would he rush straight here in a panic?

“Yeah,” he breathes, tongue swiping out against his bottom lip as he looks over her in the same way, head tilted and eyes blinking slowly, “Are you? Luke said your dad was here, I was worried you’d be upset.”

“Oh,” her lips remain in a pout around the word as her eyes dart to where she can see a little bit of sweat trickling down the side of his neck, and she feels hot, herself, all of a sudden. “I’m good.” The words slip from her mouth before she can even think of them, making up for the way her mind is racing at a million miles an hour out of nowhere.

“You sure?” He runs a hand through his hair, and she sees his t-shirt strain against bulging biceps, making her struggle to swallow and only able to nod in response. “I ran up here like a madman,” he chuckles, stepping around her to sink down into the chair behind, spreading his legs and laying his arms on the rest in a way that reminds her of the dream she had been woken too soon from this morning. 

It’s a real mental effort not to let her eyes travel lower than his broad, heaving chest as she looks down at him, perching herself on the edge of her desk, awkwardly, not knowing what to do with her own arms and legs that isn’t going to elicit such sinful thoughts.

“Sorry, I didn’t tell him to go find you or anything.”

“No, it’s okay, I asked the boys to come get me if they think you need me,” he shrugs, like that isn’t going to cause her heart to do little somersaults in her chest. “Would have ended up here at some point this morning, anyway.”

“Less stressed, though.”

“Always stressed when it comes to you.” She kicks softly at his calf, underestimating just what the effects of the touch would do to either of them when he smirks up at her, his eyes dark and inviting.

All she wants to do is crawl into his lap.

This isn’t your ridiculous dream, Poppy, she tells herself, chewing at the corner of her mouth to ground her mind.

“He wants a re-do.” She tells him, “My dad. He and my mom are staying in Manhattan for something this week, and he wants to come to the Rangers game on Wednesday, and have lunch with us the day after.”

Nico straightens up in his seat, leaning his elbows onto his knees as he looks up at her. “That’s a good sign, right?”

The gleam in his eyes paints a picture of optimism, and the thought that anything about this is going to result in a positive outcome, but Poppy knows her parents too well to get her hopes up.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, “He seemed apologetic, but I doubt my mom is going to have magically changed her entire outlook in the span of a week.”

“Getting your dad on side is still a win,” he keeps that sweet smile despite her pessimism, and she feels a little lighter just looking at the curve of his lips. 

“Yeah, I heard I have you to thank for that.”

He pauses a second while he thinks over her words, before slinking back into his seat, defeated, but still deciding to feign ignorance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?”

“Nope.”

“That’s a shame,” she pouts, “‘Cause my dad told me about someone matching your description, sitting at his dinner table and putting him in his place about not sticking up for his daughter.”

“Sounds like a decent guy,” Nico shrugs, standing from the seat, closer to Poppy than either of them could have anticipated, their knees bumping together as she’s now the one looking up at him. “Probably didn’t mean to cause any offence and just wanted to defend the mother of his child like she did for him.” His hand reaches instinctively to settle against her side, the tips of his fingers on her waist and his palm caressing her belly. 

She hums, lips curving as she watches his eyes drop to where his hand is, fighting the urge to touch him back.

“Sounds very decent.” She agrees, “No one’s ever gone to bat for me like that, before.”

“Yeah, well, whoever he is, he knows he’s the luckiest guy in the world to have you.”

A large palm comes to cradle her cheek as she beams up at him, and his touch lights all her nerve endings ablaze.

Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, she thinks, with him practically stood between her legs and his melted chocolate eyes looking into hers, swirling with what feels like adoration. 

They dart down to her lips, and his tongue swipes at his own, and just when she thinks this is it, think he’s going to lean in and close the gap, his phone buzzes in the pocket of his shorts.

He sighs as he retrieves the hand from her face to get it, frowning as he looks down at the screen while his other palm stays on her belly. “I have to get back,” he mutters, “But Thursday is fine with me, I’m free. I’ll text you when I’m done with practice, we’ll figure everything out,”

“Okay,” she smiles, despite the fact that she feels like she’s now wound tighter than a drum, all the anticipation in her body stiffening her muscles as she watches him retreat.

“Or we could do lunch together later?”

She should be embarrassed of how quick and how eager she nods in response, but she can’t really be ashamed when he smiles the way he does, a soft laugh accompanying it as the dimples settle into his cheeks. 

“Let me know what you want and when you’re free and I’ll bring it by.”

“Okay,” she breathes as he gets a little closer, smiling back shyly.

He swipes his knuckle along the curve of her bump, before leaning in and pressing a kiss to her cheek, and she hopes he doesn’t notice the way she smushes herself into it, nuzzling into the feeling of his lips against her skin. She can feel him smile against her, though, so that hope goes out of the window too quick for her to really care.

“I’ll see you later then, Poppy.”

“And Cheeto.”

And he leverages two hands at either side of her hips on her desk before leaning down, face level with her belly as he says, “And you too, Cheeto.”

She's gonna have to stop letting him into her office, for her own sanity.

“I’m gonna need your dad to tell me who hooked us up with this suite, this is insane!”

Poppy hadn’t been sure when her dad had sent over the instructions on how to get to his friend’s suite at MSG, especially not when the staff had been so attentive and treated the girls like they were the most important people in the building, having a guide literally walk them to the door before letting them know where he’d be if they needed anything replenished while they are here. But now that she’s in the suite, she gets it entirely.

She’s used to watching from the staff suite at work, but even those aren’t as nice as this one. 

The room itself is intimate, dim, warm lighting cast across leather seating, pictures of the arena on the wall, and a few pictures of Knicks winning their championships in the 70’s. Thankfully not a Rangers themed box or Poppy’s nausea might have returned. 

“It’s alright,” she shrugs, trying to ignore how incredible it is to be in a private suite at MSG. She’s a Prudential girl, always loyal to The Rock. Private restrooms and a VIP entrance won’t sway her to the dark side, she isn’t that fickle.

“Oh my God, they have baked cookies.”

When she looks over at Nia, she has the lid lifted on one of the trays in the chafer in the corner, the smell of fresh, hot cookies flooding the room and luring Poppy over like a siren-call. There’s a tray of quesadillas, some crudités, a salad and some chicken fingers, and she wants to eat all of it.

It’s probably a good thing she can’t drink, because the mini bar might have done the trick.

“I’m not waiting for my parents to dig into this.”

“You’re pregnant, they’ll understand.”

The two best friends share a knowing look before breaking out into laughter, and filling two plates with food before going to sit at the counter-like table that overlooks the ice. 

Poppy feels her anxiety slip away a little as her and Nia catch up, hearing about her work and her dad’s new random venture into woodworking that has him flooding her apartment with new shelves and a TV unit so that he can test their durability before he builds Poppy a crib, her heart melting at the thought of him being so sweet to someone who isn’t even his own daughter. 

They watch as the arena fills up, the noise building to a continuous buzz that always makes her hands shake a little, and Nia, knowing her all too well, is able to distract Poppy entirely from her parents impending arrival and whatever else is going on in her crazy mess of a head.

That is until she gasps, pointing toward the jumbotron that’s playing some sort of preview. “Look, it’s your man.”

“I don’t know if I’d call him my man.” Poppy huffs as she manages to catch a glimpse of him, a 2 second flash that has her whole body vibrating.

“I thought things were going well?”

“I don’t know, Ni,” Poppy sighs as she leans back, snapping a cucumber stick in half, “I mean, they are, but I guess I just thought he would have made a move by now.”

“Haven’t you been pushing him away every time he tries?”

“No. I pushed him away once.” She frowns, rolling her eyes when Nia raises a single brow at her incredulously, “Maybe twice, 3 times, maximum. But that was so long ago, now. And things have been so good lately, he’s been incredible.” Poppy’s limbs feel a little like jelly as she melts into her seat, her mind relaying all the ways in which Nico has been a rock for her over the past few months. Taking her to her appointments, going on grocery runs with her, coming around and helping her put them away. The whole family dinner ordeal and the agreement for a re-do. 

He’s so good to her that it’s driving her up the wall.

“But?” Nia asks, knowing her best friend all too well.

“But nothing! I wanna,” Poppy looks behind her to double check her parents haven’t arrived yet, “climb him like a tree,” she whispers, “and he’s being respectful and decent about it.”

“Ugh, what a dick.” Nia scoffs in faux-agreement, raising her arms mockingly. 

“I know.” Despite the fact that Poppy knows Nia is being sarcastic, she carries on anyway to further drive her point home. “He came by my office the other day, and he was all sweaty and gorgeous, and things got all intense, and kissed me on the cheek. How am I supposed to slip him some tongue when he kisses my cheek? And then he came back later for lunch and pretended like everything was normal.”

He had brought her a wrap and some juice, and the two of them had sat and eaten together in her office like he wasn’t about to kiss her stupid in the morning, stood between her parted legs like something fresh out of a literal fantasy she’s already had.

“I thought you’d last a little longer before you completely lost your mind, to be honest. You’re falling apart before my very eyes.”

“I haven’t even told you about the dreams yet.”

“Let’s keep it that way.” 

“I just feel like I’m running out of time, or something.”

“You guys are having a baby together, Pop, you literally have forever to figure things out.”

Poppy knows that’s technically right. It had been her exact sentiment when she had suggested taking things slow in the first place. They don’t need to rush into something just because they’re going to be parents, soon, but she had thought those things at a time where everything was confusing. 

She was still hurting a little, fresh from almost a month of the two of them not talking, of him rejecting her and telling her he wouldn’t have the capacity to be a good partner. And she had been a little overwhelmed at the time, her life changing before her eyes, and all. But he’s done so much to disprove all of that, since. 

He’s there for her, physically, emotionally, however she needs and whenever she needs him. He looks after her, tries to help in whatever way he can when she’s exhausted or feeling sick - brings her food and smoothies and sends her pick-me-up texts that make her feel like she’s floating. 

All that when he’s in the thick of his season too, fighting what is looking more and more like a losing battle for playoff contention, going home every day exhausted and beaten and bruised, and he always makes the time to call her. To ask how she’s doing, how she’s feeling, to make sure she has eaten and is tucked up for the night and safe. 

They kiss each other, they hang out like old times, he caresses her belly when they’re in private and she rubs his back affectionately when they cuddle, and sure, her hormones are all out of whack and her brain is shrinking and maybe she is falling apart, but she wants him so bad she doesn’t even know how to function, anymore.

Everything they do together points to the fact that they should be together, but he isn’t doing anything about it - and so all Poppy can think is that maybe he doesn’t want that, still.

“He’s going home for the summer, Ni,” Poppy frowns, “And we haven’t even really talked about it, but I feel like if something doesn’t happen before then, then maybe it never will.”

“That’s ridiculous, you said it yourself, the two of you are in a good place.”

“This time last year we were in a good place too, and then he left and came back with a girlfriend.”

Nia’s eyes widen as realisation flashes across her features, and Poppy’s brows push together at the depth in which she’s being perceived by her best friend. “You’re really worried about that?”

Poppy shrugs, shuffling in her seat as she watches the lights dim across the arena, thankful for the darkness so that Nia can’t notice the heat creeping up her neck.

She doesn’t want to be told she’s an idiot, right now.

“You’re being an idiot.”

Great.

“Poppy, c’mon, this isn’t even remotely the same situation, anymore. I know I’ve been giving him a hard time since he hurt you, and I’ve had a lot of other things to say, but that guy worships the ground you walk on. I posted a picture of you on my story the other day with some writing on there, and he replied to it asking me to send him the original picture like a giant lovesick dork. That’s like obsession, there’s no chance in hell he’s going home and not thinking about you and your baby every waking second of his life.”

“You unblocked him?” Poppy can feel her lips twitching a little into a smile.

She knows Nia never hated Nico after what he did - she was angry, and probably felt betrayed herself a little that she had trusted him with her best friend’s heart and he had stomped on it - but she’s never really been a forgive and forget kind of person.

But she’s been doing her own version of baby steps with Nico. When they cross paths at Poppy’s apartment, one on the way out, one on the way in, she no longer scowls at him. No longer rolls her eyes when he’s brought up in conversation.

And, evidently, she no longer has him blocked 

For everything Nico has done to prove himself to Poppy, Nia has seen it, too. 

Even just to let him back in, in such a small way, is such a big step.

“He’s on a probationary period, three strikes and he’s out.”

“Wrong sport.” Poppy smirks.

“Don’t care. Besides the point anyway, what I was trying to say is that you’re worrying too much about stupid things when you should be focusing on the things he is doing. He literally endured dinner with your parents, and is going to do it again. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.”

“I thought the point of this pep talk was to stop my anxiety, not double it.”

She’s been trying not to think about lunch with her parents. Has been trying even not to think about them coming to this game, Nia being the only reason she hasn’t tried to make her escape by now.

They probably won’t show, anyway, and it will start their meeting off tomorrow with already raised tensions, just how her mom prefers it.

Her stress levels dip and rise like a rollercoaster in the build up to the game. The announcement of the players, the national anthem, the tension in the room palpable as the clock ticks down, high already from the last time the two teams met and the constant chatter of a fight breaking out on the ice - and she’s feeling more and more grateful that they haven’t arrived yet.

Until the door to the suite swings open, and her dad walks in on his own, an apologetic smile on his face as he rushes over.

“Sorry I’m late,” He kisses Poppy and the cheek, and greets Nia with a warm hug, sitting beside his daughter and looking out into the arena, “Did  I miss anything?”

“Pucks about to drop,” Poppy tells him as he gets himself comfy, watching as he scans the crowd with an expression that kind of, sort of, looks like awe. “Mom’s not coming?”

“Not this time,” he shrugs, patting a hand against her back gently and not really delving any further into it. “We’ll have more fun without her though.”

Nia scoffs from the other side of her, hiding her smile with a bite of a cookie while Poppy tries to swallow down her unexpected disappointment.

This will have to be enough - her dad trying his best while her mom sulks on her own in her hotel room. He’s right, anyway. It will be more fun without her here.

Poppy has work the next day, Nico having a rare morning off, himself, and so the two of them arrange for him to pick her up at lunch, driving over to meet her parents together. She blocked the afternoon out of her diary, having to account for the travel either way across the river, and for whatever trauma the two of them are about to face, no doubt needing a good 20 minutes to wind down in the car after, and her morning goes by way quicker than she probably would have liked.

She packs up her office with as much delay as she can cause, stopping every couple of minutes to put her hands on her hips and try out a couple breathing exercises that Nico has been teaching her, huffing out long breaths through puffed out cheeks and letting the tension drop from her shoulders. Once she has everything, she reluctantly heads down to meet Nico where they had agreed after he sends her a text to tell her he’s there.

She straightens her skirt out as she waits in the elevator, making sure her hair is neat and her top isn’t riding up against her small bump as it has been all morning, no longer able to cover it up with her cardigan tied around her waist, knowing her mother would call her out for being unkempt.

She wouldn’t be wearing heels if it were up to her, a subtle ache already settling into the soles of her feet, but it’s only for an hour or two, she has some sneakers in her trunk for when he brings her back for her car, and if anything, they make her legs look good so it isn’t entirely a bad thing to be wearing them around Nico.

When the doors to the parking level open, she has the expectation that he would be in his normal spot around the corner, where the players usually park - the spaces a little bigger, less chance of anyone being careless with the way they open their door and dinging it against another like she’s had happen before - but she’s surprised to see he isn’t too far, parked straight ahead so she doesn’t have far to walk.  

Nico leans against his car, dressed smart in charcoal pants and a light grey shirt, and she finds herself doing a not-so-subtle once over, mainly to check he isn’t wearing sneakers. 

She’s grateful she has a little time to walk over to him, to admire him before it’s too obvious she’s doing so, because if he got a close enough look at her, he could potentially call her out for drooling. 

She catches him doing the same, eyes lingering on her bare legs as she closes the distance between them, before flickering up to greet her with a dimpled smile.

“You look good,” she comments as she steps toward him, reaching to smooth his hair where he’s slicked it back a little, swiping her finger along his clean shaven jaw as she retreats.

“It goes against everything I believe in, wearing dress pants this early in the day.” 

“I appreciate it.”

“I know you do.”

He opens the car door for her and walks by the front to round to his side, giving her a chance to admire the back of him as he moves before he’s jumping into the drivers seat. 

She reaches to put the AC on low as he drives, getting a little hot watching his fingers flex around the wheel, and tries not to spend all her time leaning against the headrest and looking over his side profile like a crazy person. 

Although, if admiring a guy as gorgeous as Nico while he’s in her presence is a crime, she thinks she probably deserves to be locked up.

She’s a repeat offender, after all.

“You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I feel weirdly good, actually.” Her morning at work hadn’t been too hectic, a meeting and a few calls, and she hasn’t really felt sick all week, so things are definitely looking up.

And last night with her dad went better than expected, despite her mom not making an appearance.

She’s even slightly optimistic for this lunch, oddly enough, not having that nagging voice in her head telling her everything is going to fall apart, for once.

“What about you? You aren’t gonna threaten to drive off again, are you?”

“Nah,” he chuckles, casting her an amused glance before focusing back on the road. “I think I’ve got a good read for how these Jensen table talks go by now.”

“I think my dad will be okay today, he got really into the game last night. I think it was all the fighting, and my mom not being there, it was like he’s been holding back all this time.”

She had been initially disappointed when her mom hadn’t shown, but when all the fighting had started, she had been relieved. She had warned her dad when he had made the suggestion in the first place, but nothing could have properly prepared him for the carnage of a game against the Rangers, and so she just had to let him endure it.

And he loved it. It was bizarre to see. He’d been cheering on the boys, oohing and aah-ing in time with the crowd, and jumping whenever she and Nia did.

She had actually had fun, and it seemed like he did, too.

“He’ll be coming to The Rock in a jersey before we know it.”

“Is that how things work out for you, everyone just comes around in the end ‘cause your so charming?”

“Surprised it took you this long to notice.” 

Poppy’s parents are waiting in their hotel lobby when Poppy and Nico arrive after their almost-hour long drive, thankfully both dressed just as smart as they are, because she knows Nico would have something to pout about if her dad showed up in khakis. 

The four of them sit around a table in the lounge restaurant of her parent’s hotel in Midtown, her dad having tried to find another spot and her mom having quickly vetoed every cafe or restaurant in the area after vigorously trawling through the Yelp reviews and no doubt turning her nose up at every picture she came across.

Despite the setting being suited to her, she still rearranges her table setting when she arrives, still swipes at the surface and assesses her finger for dust or grime with a dissatisfied look on her face, and Poppy’s trying her best to ignore the little things. Her mom would be like this in the finest restaurant in the world, it isn’t specific to Jersey, it isn’t entirely personal.

It has been cordial, so far. Pleasantries exchanged, small talk conversed. The food had been nice, the wait staff thankfully avoiding her mother’s daring glares, and Poppy starts to feel her anxiety dwindle the more her father talks.

He asks Nico of his interests, trying to find something shared, but coming up slightly short - but that’s okay, she thinks, not everyone has something in common. Maybe they’ll discover that down the line. Maybe there’s something niche that their conversations haven’t sparked yet. 

Nico is his charming self, she has no worries there, and her dad is putting in enough effort to make up for the lack of it on her mom’s end.

Then he moves onto hockey, and Poppy can tell he had been paying attention when he had watched them play the day before. 

She and Nia had been too invested in the game to explain much to him, and it’s hard - being in the arena, watching it live - without having heard most of the terminology through commentary or any sort of breakdown of a play, and so Nico ends up pretty much going through plays and game structure with him, explaining penalties and power plays, shift switches and face-offs, and Philip sits, nodding along as if he’s actually taking it on board. 

“And what do you do with yourself when your season is over?” Her dad asks, and despite the depth in which she knows him, can see the lingering suspicion and distrust in Nico, and of their situation as a whole, she’s grateful for that fact that he’s at least trying.

“I usually go back home and spend time with my family, sir. My brother plays in the league over there so I don’t get to see him when we’re playing at the same time.”

“That’s nice. And that’s Sweden?”

“Switzerland, Dad.” Poppy corrects him, her fingers tickling mindlessly at Nico’s palm in her lap. 

“Of course! Beautiful country, Poppy’s mother and I always used to stop by Zurich whenever we were in Europe. You loved the Opera House, didn’t you, Cilla?”

“Hm,” Poppy’s mom confirms, sipping at her wine with feigned disinterest. Poppy knows she’s paying attention, is going through Nico’s every word with a fine toothed comb. “I much preferred France.”

Poppy rolls her eyes, shifting a little in her seat until her knees knock into Nico’s.

“What do your parents do, son?”

“They both work in insurance, my dad has his own firm.”

“Ah, they’re not athletic, like you and your brother?”

“They were. My mom was a swimmer, my dad played footba- sorry, soccer. And my big sister, Nina, she used to play volleyball.”

“I bet your family game nights get heated.”

He really is trying, Poppy thinks, smiling softly over at Nico as he chuckles in response, lips twisting fondly at whatever memory that invokes. 

“They aren’t too bad, only a bit competitive. No major fights, thankfully.”

“Is that what you want for our grandchild?” Priscilla chimes in, only proving Poppy’s point that she isn’t as disinterested as she’d like to seem. “For them to put all their focus on games and competitions?”

“Mom,” Poppy frowns, shuffling uncomfortably again, all too ready to jump to Nico’s defence until he speaks up from beside her.

“It’s okay,” he assures her, “I haven’t thought much about it, to be honest, I would just want them to be happy.”

He doesn’t say it like he’s trying to win points or be corny, when Poppy turns her head to look at him, she sees the slight dopey smile he has whenever he talks about their baby - a look of pure adoration for even the unknown - and she smiles too. If anything, his outlook would have the opposite effect on her mother than to give him any sort of kudos, but her heart warms, all the same. 

She clutches at his hand under the table, giving him a reassuring squeeze that he returns three times over.

“Nico plays for Switzerland, too,” she directs more towards her father, who might be a little more receptive to the fact, “They have the world championships in Prague this year, if the Devils don’t make the playoffs, Nico might be going over earlier. Might even captain the team.” She beams with pride, using her other hand to rub at the arm of the hand of his that she’s holding.

“That’s great-,”

“That’s an awfully busy schedule for a father-to-be.” Her mother scoffs from across the table. “How are you supposed to look after my daughter from half way across the world?”

“I can look after myself, Mom.”

“You shouldn’t have to. What if something happens, and he’s 9 hours away?”

Why does she have to be like this?

Poppy can feel the responsive insolence brewing within her, bubbling and steaming and about to rear it’s ugly head when another voice speaks up.

“Cilla, that’s enough. She’s shown us she can take care of herself, stop trying to instigate something and scare her for no good reason.”

Poppy feels herself mirror her mom’s expression, her mouth gaping open in shock at the nerve of him to stand up to her like that out of nowhere. As Priscilla presses her lips together in indignation, Poppy prepares hers to speak when her dad turns to Nico, completely disregarding the interruption in their conversation. 

“Is that different? Being a captain for your country compared to the Devils?”

She could lean over the table and kiss him on the head, beyond grateful for the interest he’s now showing, hoping it overpowers the venom spewed from her mother’s mouth. 

“A little bit,” Nico nods, lips curving softly at the corners, clearly appreciative, too. “I don’t really have to worry about trades and contracts and stuff when it comes to my national teammates. I grew up with a lot of those guys, and the tournament is a lot closer to home than the games here. I don’t want to say I prefer it, but it’s always nice to play closer to my family and friends.”

“You’ll have to let me know when it’s on the TV, Poppy. After last night, I’d love to watch more games. It was quite exciting.”

She squeezes his hand again, her smile wider when she looks up at him this time, her eyes settling on the dimples she wants to press her lips to. 

Her dad’s words from the other day ring in her head.

He made me realise I haven’t supported you in the way I should be.

Her dad has never stuck up for her like this. Always turning a blind eye to the way her mom zeroes in on all the things that could possibly sting her - and here he is, in public no less, putting her in her place to protect Poppy. To protect Nico, even. 

“I don’t know if that game was the best introduction for you, sir.” Nico chuckles, “We lost, too.”

“I have it on good authority that that’s only because the Rags are a bunch of no-good cheaters.”

Nico snorts, glancing down and meeting Poppy’s gaze, fondly. “Is that so?”

“I said dirty, rotten, no-good cheaters, actually,” she shrugs, “Dad, if you’re gonna start chirping, you’ve got to put a little more heart into it.”

“You’ll have to teach me, Poppet,” Philip tells his daughter, “Maybe that’s how we keep you busy this summer, you can get me up to scratch for the next season.”

And despite the way her heart hammers in her chest at the mention of her having to be kept busy and the thought of being apart from Nico, she feels the tension in her shoulder slip away. Even her mom’s sour face can’t ruin this moment, where her dad starts showing slight signs of approval for the first time in her life, she feels.

“We can discuss my rates, later.” She smiles over at him, cheeks tightening and eyes watering slightly as she smiles, her appreciation for his time, and for the moment, far outweighing her disappointment in the woman sat beside him. 

It’s only two days later that Poppy and Nico are separated again, him and the team leaving a day early for their game against the Senators, situating him overnight in a hotel in Ottawa when she really wants him back with her in Jersey.

It’s getting pathetic now, she thinks, the way she misses him all the time. It’s one day. She’s still texting him, still speaking to him practically every hour. She shouldn’t need to have him right next to her at all hours of the day.

If anything, she needs to start getting used to this - him not being around. Within the next month, he’ll be back home in Switzerland and she’ll be here, grumbling and moaning to herself and everyone but him about how she wants him back.

She’s been trialling out other people’s company too, as pitiful as that sounds. Nia she knows is a safe bet - she’ll be around, already in full auntie mode and more than ready for Poppy to enter her nesting and shopping phase. Jack and Luke will be going back to Michigan, no doubt, but they’re bound to have some trips back to Jersey. Kelsey is kind of a no-go, because despite the fact that she still considers her one of her best friends, she’s all of a sudden under the impression that Poppy is no fun now that she’s pregnant, and she doesn’t have the energy in her to prove her otherwise. Josh at work had come with her for lunch earlier in the day. He’s alright company, but a little boring, if anything - doesn’t make her laugh straight from her belly, not like Nico, not that she’s comparing them.

Nothing really compares to him, if she’s honest, so it’s a fruitless task to even try.

And so, she’s resigning herself to the little version of him that sits in his poor-signal box on her FaceTime app, crashing and pausing and cutting out sometimes when he speaks.

“I’m so hungry I could eat a horse,” Poppy groans, leaning forward onto her elbow in front of where her phone is rested on the counter, a pout on her lips as she watches Nico situate himself on his hotel bed.

“I thought you were getting food, before? Didn’t you say you were gonna have a late lunch?”

“We did,” she sighs, remembering the disappointment that the first bite of her bagel had elicited and swearing that even the memory of it has her stomach growling.

“We?”

“Yeah, I went with Josh.”

“The PR guy?” Nico looks so cute when he’s frowning, she thinks, his eyebrows pressing together and his doe-brown eyes going round, his screen pausing on a very adorable pout for a few seconds. 

“Yeah.”

“You went on a lunch date with Josh the PR guy?”

“I wouldn’t call it a date, we just had the same lunch hour.” She shrugs, trying not to get distracted at just the sight of him on a phone screen. Nia was right the other day, she really does need to pull herself together, she thinks. “I don’t think anyone in their mind would want to date me right now, I’m distinctly round and up until a week ago was walking around with a gross vomit smell about me.”

“Was it just the two of you?” He asks, doing little to dispel her undateable theory and causing her to frown, too.

“Yeah,” she drags out with the tilt of her head.

“And you went away from The Rock?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Did he pay?”

“Well, yeah, but-,” He probably wouldn’t appreciate her telling him it was Josh’s turn, implying they had shared other lunch breaks, but he cuts her off before she can.

“And you walked back to work together after?”

“We’re in the same building, and it was nice out today.”

“Has he text you since?”

“I-,” She doesn’t actually know. Poppy swipes up from their FaceTime to check her messages, seeing his name near the top. Sent 30 minutes ago, I had fun today, with a smiley face - a blushing smiley face, at that. “Yeah? But you used to pay for my lunch and text me when you got home,”

“Yeah and now you’re carrying my baby.” He’s smiling when she brings the FaceTime back, a soft smile that barely meets his eyes but melts her heart, all the same.

“Can’t argue with that logic.”

“It was a date.” He tells her, and he shifts on the other end of the phone, discomfort evident as she realises that the smile is more resolute than she first thought. “A cheap one, if you’re still hungry.”

“Well he wanted to go to that bagel place a couple streets from work,” she says, ignoring his jab, “You know the one with outdoor seating?” He nods, “He said it’s his favourite spot nearby.”

Maybe it was a date. Walking in the soft sunshine together to his favourite spot. Him buying her a bagel, an iced tea and a little tub of tiramisu for her to eat at her desk that had way too much coffee for her to eat.

Shit.

“You hate that place.” That frown comes back, defensive, almost, and he leans back onto his bent arm in a way that makes his muscles flex, distracting her entirely.

“I know,” she sighs, at the sight of him or at this conversation, she doesn’t know. “They’re so dry, I swear they’re stale, I ended up just picking mine apart, but now I-,”

“Could eat a horse?” He grins, flexing his arm like he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

“Exactly,” she smiles, “And I have nothing in.”

“You went shopping yesterday,” he hums, leaning back and getting comfortable, looking back at her with that sleepy smile that makes her want to cuddle into him. She could so slot into that space that his arm makes - it’s literally Poppy shaped.

“Yeah, but yesterday I had all the intentions of buying things to cook, and now I don’t want to cook.” She walks over to her couch with her phone in hand as she talks, throwing herself down into the cushions with a heavy sigh. “I saw someone with this giant soft pretzel earlier, and I know it isn’t moving yet, but I swear Cheeto started doing backflips at the smell. It’s all I can think about. Soft pretzels and melted cheese, I could actually cry right now just imagining it.”

“Maybe take a shower,” he hums, and he looks like he could fall asleep, any second. “You might have some energy after to make something.”

“Maybe,” she hums, back, soft tone matching his as she watches his eyes flutter. “Still won’t be a soft pretzel, though.”

“Keep me posted on whatever you pick, I’m gonna go before I fall asleep, I’m grabbing dinner with the boys.”

“Show-off.” She pouts, lips twitching when he smiles big enough for his dimples to form. “Text me when you’re back?”

“Sure thing. Make sure you eat something, yeah?”

“I will. See you later, Nico.”

Once her screen goes black with the end of the call, she falls into the back of the couch with a heavy sigh, head craned back to look at the ceiling. 

This is so hard, she thinks of missing a man that isn’t entirely hers, of trying to suppress her feelings before they spread to every fibre of her being. 

And with her patience wearing thin, all she has left is to listen to him - to follow his instruction in the hopes that this is what will make the universe reward her, subliminally giving him what he wants.

She showers, trying not to think about him as she faces up into the spray and lets the hot water rain down on her, lathering her hair in a shampoo she wishes smelled like him and dressing herself after in a hoodie she had stolen a while back, all remnants of his scent long washed away. 

She’s staring at a full refrigerator with a head empty of ideas when there is a knock at her door, and she trudges toward the entrance to her apartment with heavy feet. 

She knows as soon as she opens the door what it is, her nose perked like a sniffer dog as the aroma floods from the paper bag being held out to her.

“I got a delivery for Poppy?”

“Thank you so much,” she smiles, taking the bag from the pre-pubescent looking Postmates delivery guy, and handing him a tip from the little stack of notes she keeps on the table by her door. 

The name on the bag is for a bakery she knows is around 15 minutes away, closer to her old place up in Hoboken, and she practically skips around to her couch to open it up. 

Two soft pretzels and a tub of Cranberry-Bacon Swiss cheese dip that she had forced Nico to try one time a few years back, and hadn’t had since she moved - still warm in the bag and the smell of it causing her mouth to water.

She thinks this might be the sexiest thing he’s ever done.

Remembering a random order for a soft pretzel from years ago. Relaying her schedule over the phone before, how she didn’t like a certain bagel shop that she had probably mentioned one time before, how she had gone shopping the day prior, something that had probably been a passing comment in a text earlier in the week - flooding her with his perfect recall and insistence on delivering a love language from hundreds of miles away. 

I think I’m in love with you, she types out in a fit of giddiness, senses overpowered by the delicious smell from the bag in her lap, her judgement thankfully coming back before she can hit send, because sure they’ve told each other they love each other before, but never like that. 

Instead, she types out something much more reasonable for the occasion to send along with a selfie of her holding the bag with a stupid smile on her face.

Poppy: You’re my favourite baby daddy 😊 

Nico: I’m your only baby daddy 🙄 

Poppy: Potentially my favourite person 

Nico: Potentially?

Poppy: Cheeto’s first

Nico: So I’m second?

Poppy: Potentially 💖 

Her mind goes back to something Nia had said at the game earlier in the week, about how Nico cared for her like it was an obsession.

Maybe she’s obsessed, too.

Nico

“What do you know about Josh from PR?”

Nico knows that he should probably feel at least an ounce of shame for going to the rest of the guys about this - should feel childish for letting his own insecurities cloud his mind like this, but he’s tried talking himself out of it, and it hasn’t worked.

The locker room has kind of always been his safe space to vent - in a room surrounded by his peers, where better to air out his grievances and have his irrational feelings validated than here?

Especially on the road, after a rough night’s sleep in a hotel bed, and in a practice facility that has a distinct chemical smell that is making him a little loopy.

This is truly his last resort, and he’s already regretting it from Jack’s response, alone.

“I know that his name is Josh and he works in PR.”

“Funny,” Nico scoffs as he leans back into the bench of his locker, running a frustrated hand through his sweat-matted hair. 

“Why, what beef do you have with Josh?”

Jack sits a few cubbies over, the distance causing his voice to carry and opening the conversation up to the other stragglers, namely Timo, who doesn’t speak up but Nico can see his attention pique.

“He took Poppy out on a date.” He grumbles.

“Our Poppy?” 

Mine, Nico thinks, but nods in response, anyway, hoping only Jack takes notice but wincing when another voice responds, instead.

“Damn,” Timo teases, “Going after a pregnant woman is ballsy.”

“Do you think he’s a problem?” He knows he shouldn’t rise to Timo’s ribbing, the panicked raise of his brow only eliciting a smirk from his fellow countryman and longtime friend, but he can’t help it.

“The last time I had any dealings with him, he was wearing a tie with turtles on it, so the chances are slim, but what do I know?”

“Poppy does like her guys dorky,” Jack joins in, a taunting glint flashing across his eyes.

“Does she like him?” Timo asks, throwing himself down beside Nico, who shrugs in response.

“She didn’t even know it was a date,” he tries to brush it off a little, to sound cocky, but he doesn’t really pull it off.

“Hardly sounds like a threat to me, Cap,” Luke speaks up from the other side of his brother, always the voice of reason. 

“I’m not threatened.” He gives a nonchalant frown.

“Sure you’re not.” Luke scoffs.

“I’m just looking out for her.”

“Of course you are.”

“Stop being annoying.”

“Stop being a liar.”

“I’m not lying.”

Luke is always so quick to call Nico out that it’s starting to remind him of Poppy, a little - sharp tongue and a slight disregard for where he pokes it, if needed. It almost makes him appreciate it, all the more.

“She’s the mother of my child, it isn’t a crime to care about who she might be going on dates with.”

“Buddy, she’s carrying your baby, the last thing she’s looking for is a serious relationship with someone else right now.”

Nico narrows his eyes at his best friend, waiting for the follow up he knows is coming where Timo says something to chip away at his dwindling resolve - something to keep him awake, tonight.

“She’s probably just looking to get some.”

Something like that.

“Get some?” He scoffs, uneasily, his face curling in disgust, “This is Poppy we’re talking about, she isn’t like that. It was a stale bagel and an iced tea, not some sordid hookup.”

“You said she didn’t know it was a date.” Luke chimes in, his tone bored and his expression the same - halfway done with having to entertain Nico’s incessant talking and no action. 

“She didn’t, he took her out to lunch. But she didn’t seem entirely opposed to the idea it was a date when I pointed it out to her.”

“Well maybe,” Timo drags out as he pushes himself off the bench and stands before him, a playful smirk on his lips, “And hear me out before you go crazy,” Nico rolls his eyes, swallowing hard in anticipation, “She’s just crazy horny.”

“Fuck off,” Nico throws one of his pads at him, bouncing off his shoulder before he catches it with a chuckle.

“No, I’m serious,” he throws it back for Nico to catch, “Pregnant women are freaky, it’s all the hormones, and most of them have their partners to scratch that itch,” Nico wonders where he’s getting all these ridiculous sayings, all of a sudden, “But you two aren’t together, so she has to get her fill from somebody else.”

Nico tries looking at the other boys for validation. Jack is already distracted on his phone, and Luke looks too grossed out to comment.

“I don’t know why I’m even speaking to you about this, I should have asked someone with at least two brain cells to rub together.”

“Fair point, hey, Curtis, come over here a sec!” Timo calls out, swinging his arm over his shoulder as he approaches, “Tell Nico, in graphic detail, just how freaky pregnant women get!”

“I want nothing to do with this conversation,” he grimaces, shrugging out from under Timo’s grip and carrying on over to his cubby. 

“He didn’t deny it!”

And he knows, deep down, that Timo has been on a personal mission to grind his gears the last few months, finding joy in getting Nico all riled up for no good reason other than it makes him laugh. He knows he shouldn’t take him seriously, but all of a sudden, his chest feels tight - and the feeling won’t go away.

He tries not to overthink any of it, but it’s no use.

All the little nagging thoughts he’s had about his relationship with Poppy over the last few months start to surface, and bubble into something dark and ugly.

Sure, they’ve had their baby steps, they’ve had the odd kiss here and there, they have told each other’s families that they’re together, have spent an awful lot of time together for two people who aren’t together, but that’s just it.

They aren’t together.

They haven’t had that conversation, haven’t set any boundaries, and as much as he hasn’t even looked at another woman since New Years Eve, he can’t expect Poppy not to have done the same.

Why wouldn’t she date Josh?

He has a decent job, seems like a nice enough guy despite his poor timing and his weird need to always be in Poppy’s office. He makes her laugh - Nico’s seen it, has felt his ears go hot as her eyes have crinkled at the corners and that sweet, melodic sound has crossed through the barrier of her lips in his presence - and she clearly likes his company enough to grab lunch with him in the first place.

And it’s those lingering worries that put him into a funk.

When Poppy texts him, his replies are short. He misses a call from her after their win in Ottawa, and doesn’t find the time to call her back. He doesn’t stop by her place when he lands after their flight back, going straight back to his apartment and tossing and turning all night wondering how long it will be before she finds someone else to keep her company and googling all the ways in which her hormones are about to come at her full force - finding an article that points out the exact timeline of it all in gut wrenching detail. He doesn’t see her before he’s locked away for their game against the Predators the next day, either - and when they lose after overtime, and a poor shootout, he feels guilt more than anything when he checks his phone after his shower and Poppy is still texting him like nothing could possibly be wrong.

Poppy: I’ve left a key under the mat if you want to drop by after the game 💖 

It had been sent sometime in the third period, over an hour ago at this point, and she’s more than likely asleep, he thinks.

But God, he wants to see her.

So where he’d usually drive straight home, he drives to her place, instead, hoping they can have some sort of conversation that suppresses the uncertainty that is starting to keep him awake at night.

He parks up beside her car on the street, and takes the stairs instead of her death-trap elevator, ignoring the protesting ache building in his thighs as he climbs all six floors in a hurry.

The key is where she said it would be, and the weight of it is nothing in comparison to the meaning of her leaving it for him, the responsibility of handling it causing his hands to shake as he opens the door quietly, in anticipation of her already resting up.

The lights are off, but there’s a lamp on beside the couch in the living room, and commercials are playing on her TV, and when he steps fully into the space, he finally sees her, and he can finally breathe.

She’s curled up on the couch, dressed in pyjama shorts that sit low on her hips and a tank top that rides up along the curve of her bump, and is snuggling into a pillow while the flashing lights from the TV reflect on her skin. He reaches onto the coffee table for the remote and puts it on mute, watching her for a second as soft snores fall from between her lips.

Jesus, he thinks, she’s beautiful.

Every time he looks at her, he finds himself picturing her features on their baby. The colour of her eyes, the roundness of them when they look straight at him, or the crinkling in the corner when she smiles, the slope of her nose, the fullness of her lips.

He wouldn’t be mad if there was nothing of his. If their baby didn’t have his eye or hair colour, his nose, his smile. He’d be happy with a mini-Poppy.

She must feel his presence as he kneels down beside her - probably hears the crack in his knees or the grunt he thought he was withholding on his way down, because her eyes flutter open slowly, focusing on him with a mellowed, dreamy gaze.

“Hey,” she smiles softly at him, voice thick with sleep and eyes still half-scrunched shut. “Tried to wait up for you.”

How could he let anyone get in his head about this? He thinks, as she looks at him with eyes that sparkle and a smile that grips at his heart like a vice. 

Is this what being apart from her is going to keep doing to him? Forcing him to spiral out of his own mind until he sees her, again?

“I was surprised to see you text so late to be honest,” he hums, reaching out to tuck her sleep-mussed hair behind her ear. “You’re usually out by 9 these days."

“Growing your baby is exhausting,” she sighs with her whole body, shifting on the couch to make room for him, and he falls down into the space she makes, positioning his body to her liking as she snuggles straight into him. He feels himself sigh, the content kind, where the aches in his muscles wither into something a little more comfortable, and everywhere she touches feels warm and soothed.

“You could have gone to bed, Poppy, I was going to see you in the morning, anyway.”

“Missed you.” He likes how there’s no preamble about it - the two of them no longer skirting around their feelings as much, not needing to think up some other excuse for wanting to see each other. She missed him enough to leave a key under the mat, enough to stay up despite her body being overworked, enough that waiting less than twelve hours just wouldn’t suffice the desire to see him again.

He has nothing to worry about, he realises. 

“Missed you, too.” He relaxes fully into the couch, an arm slung around her shoulders and the other reaching to rest in its default place on her little bump. “And Cheeto.”

Poppy hums, and he swears he can feel her arch into his touch.

It’s quiet between them for a moment, illuminated by the muted flickering of game highlights flashing across Poppy’s TV screen, and he can’t help but feel like this is where he is meant to be. This is what he’s meant to come home to. Not an empty apartment with leftovers in the fridge and a bed 10 times too big for one person.

Poppy, on the couch, warm and receptive to whatever he can give her, slow, content sighs slipping from between her lips. 

“I’m sorry,” he hears after a beat, he gives an affirmative hum as a response before he even registers what she’s said. She uses the hand on his chest as leverage to push herself up, still leaning on him slightly but able to look him in the eye. “Are you mad at me?”

“For what?” He frowns, his heart jumping under her touch.

“For Josh,” her body leans away from his a little as she rests back with her knees beneath her. “I swear I didn’t realise that he even liked me like that, and then after we spoke last night I started getting in my head about it, I don’t want you to think I’m just out here going on dates with other people.”

“I don’t think that-,”

“I just miss you a lot when you’re not here, lately,” she admits, nervously, most likely not even hearing what he had said. “And I’ve been trying to fill my time with other people so that I don’t think about you as much and that I won’t go crazy when you leave again in a few weeks.”

“Okay,”

“Not that it actually works, I-,” her lips twist as she looks down at her lap, her hands both fidgeting between them, “I just feel like I’m getting super clingy, and with you going home soon, I don’t want you to feel like I’m smothering you or something.”

“I don’t feel like that,” he doesn’t know why he keeps trying to reassure her. She’ll listen when she’s finished talking, herself, he figures, because again, she doesn’t acknowledge him. He feels his lips twisting in amusement as she carries on, revealing probably more of herself than she had originally intended. His chest warms, weirdly, at the idea that they’ve both been apart, wanting nothing more than to be with each other, worrying that they’re overbearing the other. 

“And I know this whole,” she lifts a hand to point her finger frantically between the two of them, “thing between us is moving super slow, and I know that’s my fault, but I feel really good about it. It feels really right to me. But we haven’t really talked about it since we agreed on baby steps, and I don’t know where your head is at around everything, but I don’t even see Josh like that, and I wouldn’t agree to go out with him when we’re-,” 

He wants her to finish that thought so badly.

When we’re what, Poppy?

She sighs - another big kind, where her shoulders rise slowly and drop suddenly. Like she’s gearing herself up to say something she thinks he won’t like.

“I don’t want you to go back to Switzerland and get over me again.”

What?

Where the hell did that come from?

He doesn’t think there was even a second he was ever over her. Not entirely, at least. Distracted, maybe. Ignorant, obviously. But never detached.

“And I realise that’s a stupidly super clingy thing to say, but-,”

“Hey,” his tone is clearer, firmer than the last few times he had spoken, and he reiterates the sincerity in what he’s about to say with a calloused hand to her face, the touch shocking her into reception. Glassy eyes sparkle back at him, like rippling water under moonlight, and he wants nothing more than to dive in, to bathe in the hidden vulnerability until his skin prunes, and he’s the one who bears the burden of it. “There is no getting over you. Not then, not ever.”

“But what about-,”

“Joshua’s been doing the groundwork to ask you out for months, Poppy. Probably for even longer, but I first saw he was into you back before that auction.” Back when he’d colour-coded notes for her and stared after her like she was a mirage and he’d been stranded in the desert for weeks.  

“I told you, I’m not-,” He’s doing the same thing, now, not letting her get her say. But he has a point to make, and she needs to understand the depth of his feelings for her in the only way he knows how to express them.

“I know. You didn’t even see it is what I’m saying. And you notice when one of the guys starts using more emojis in the group chat or when the coffee shop around the corner uses a different kind of milk. Why do you think that is?”

“It tastes different-,”

“Not the milk, Poppy. Why do you think you didn’t notice the guy following you around the office with hearts in his eyes?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’ve been,” she frowns as if she’s actually thinking about this for the first time. “Distracted. I don’t understand what this has to do with-,”

“Why?”

“You know why.” She levels him with a glare.

“Wanna hear you say it,” he smirks, a flicker of his eyes to her lips that twist at the attention.

“No.”

“C’mon,” he drags out, teasingly, reaching out to tuck her hair back behind her ear after it had fallen back over the side of her face, “Wanna hear you tell me how you’re so obsessed with me that you don’t even consider anyone else.”

“This has nothing to do with what we were talking about.” She pouts, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance and trying her best to look offended. She doesn’t deny it, though.

“Doesn’t it?”

“No. We were talking about you. I’m not obsessed with you.” She grumbles the last part like her mouth is fighting the truth. 

“I am.” He shrugs like it’s nothing. “Obsessed with you. Could throw a thousand women in bikinis my way I wouldn’t notice a single one of them.”

“Why’d you have to specify bikinis?” She frowns. “Who’s throwing half naked women at you?”

“That’s what you’re focusing on?”

“You can’t say something so ridiculous and not expect me to comment on it, Nico.”

“Fine, I take back the bikini thing,” he rolls his eyes, affectionately. “What I’m saying, is that me going back home for the summer isn’t going to change the way I feel. It never did in the first place, Poppy, I was just stupid and afraid of my feelings, last year.”

“And you’re not, now? This doesn’t scare you?”

From the second he found out the news, Nico can recall a bunch of times where he has thought that he should be scared. Should be spiralling out of his mind and anxious as hell about the way his life is about to turn upside down - but those kinds of feelings have just surpassed him. He has no doubt they’ll come at some point - the panic, the fear, the trepidation - but with every day that passes in the calm of it all, he feels more prepared to tackle those feelings when they do swarm him. He’s aided by the comfort of knowing that something in his life is a sure thing.

Playing in the NHL, maintaining his role as a captain of a beloved franchise, making it to and succeeding in the playoff finals, winning an international tournament, they’re all dreams. They’re all things he wants and wishes for, but may never get. He may never lift the cup. He may get a season-ending, or even worse, career-ending, injury out of nowhere. He might one day have to give up the C for someone else to lead his guys on the ice. He may fall out of contention for the national team, have to watch from the sidelines as they thrive without him.

But no matter where he ends up in all of that, he knows now who will be there.

Poppy is a certainty. 

Even if they’re not together, if they never cross that line completely, if the baby steps they’re navigating so well stumble so far out of control that a relationship is out of the picture, their futures are intertwined now. 

She will always be a part of him - of his life. Her and the little Cheeto in her belly. 

“No.” He says it with conviction, which his chest puffed as much as he can muster through the exhaustion that overwhelms his body. “You don’t scare me, Poppy Jensen."

She watches him for a bit, trying to gauge the honesty of his sentiment, and he waits with bated breath, his gaze switching smoothly in a triangle between her soft eyes and pursed lips. Once she has deliberated what he’s stated, has assessed the weight of his words until the sincerity of them settles into her bones, she leans forward until she’s resting back into his outstretched arm, head resting on his chest as the thumping of his heart beats against her ear. 

She sighs, big and tired, and her body melts completely into his, the curve of her belly pressed into his side and her arm slung over his torso. 

“Thought you weren’t obsessed,” he whispers teasingly, pointing toward the TV, where a slow-mo replay of him on the ice is taking up the screen. 

She just hums in response, nuzzling sleepily into his side, and he tries to even out his breathing, leaning back and closing his eyes to bask in the moment.

How could he have ever thought this wouldn’t be enough for her? All those months back when he’d spinelessly disregarded the beginnings of something more. When he had thought that this would have been something she would only settle for - the girl who has moulded herself to fit into whatever shape he leaves beside him and makes it seem like it’s everything she wants it to be.

He’s never known calm like it.

On the back of a loss, leading a team that is potentially one game away from losing out on playoff contention entirely, ending a difficult season plagued by injury and turbulence within the organisation. 

He’s physically depleted - his muscles stretched, his bones banged up and bruised - and he should be the same, mentally.

But he gets to come back here, to Poppy, who misses him when he’s gone, who stays up despite her own exhaustion just to see him, who keeps a place warm for him on the couch and curls up into his side until he forgets the rest of it. 

Until he forgets his instinct to second guess either of their feelings, or the need to overthink how her words might measure up to her actions.

Until he forgets the notion Talia had implied that he wouldn’t be enough, wouldn’t make her happy, makes him forget the comments her mother had made about him being absent or distant and unable to support her, or the suggestion from her brother that he wasn’t the right fit.

“You can’t fall asleep.” She speaks slow, like she isn’t far off falling asleep herself, and it isn’t until he hears her voice that he realises just how tight his eyes have welded themselves shut, too lost in the comfort of her embrace to notice that he was about to drift off. 

“Why not?” He huffs, feeling the weight of her head on his chest when he tries to sigh.

“‘Cause I don’t wanna be blamed when you mess your back up on my couch.”

He chuckles, appreciating how her impertinence doesn’t wear off even when she’s half asleep, herself. 

And despite every instinct in his body telling him that he wants to stay like this forever, he shifts his hip to nudge her upright. “Alright,” he groans as his muscles protest at the straightening of his posture, “Let’s get you to bed first then I’ll head out.”

“Carry me?” She holds her arms out as he stands, and he swats them away.

“No."

He helps her up anyway, and keeps a hold of one of her hands as he sets off down the hall toward her bedroom, taking slower steps than usual so that she doesn’t have to stumble after him - knowing she will drag her feet, anyway.

He drops her hand when he crosses the threshold, allowing her to do whatever she needs while she’s in here without him hovering. 

“What the hell is that thing?” Nico rubs at his eyes as if he’s imagining the giant, elongated cushion that takes up more than half of Poppy’s bed, only when he pulls his knuckles away, it’s still there, sprawled out and taking up the entirety of what would be his side in another universe.

“It’s my pregnancy pillow,” Poppy follows him into the room, chuckling as she sidles past him to the bed, “It’s supposed to be really good for resting on when the bump finally comes in more, after a certain point I’m not supposed to sleep on my back. But for now it’s nice to cuddle. Nia got it for me!”

“Of course she did,” he mutters, narrowing his glare at it like the pillow has personally been placed onto this Earth to spite him. He’s been tossing and turning at night wondering if Poppy is okay on her own, yearning to be closer to her, and she’s been here cuddling a pillow?  

He wants it gone.

“It’s comfy, you should give it a go, might help you relax”

“I don’t need to cuddle your giant pillow, thanks,”

“Okay, Captain Grumpy, suit yourself,” she shrugs as she edges past him to her en-suite, and he stalks behind her, watching as she reaches to grab for her toothbrush.

It’s the rattling noise of another in the holder that captures his attention, the red handle of the one she had given him all those months ago still stuck out of the glass, and he feels the tension in his shoulders dissolve somewhat just at the sight of it - waiting there for him to pick back up again like an inevitability. 

He leans against the door as he watches her, head lulling against the jamb as his eyelids grow heavier by the second. He just needs to make sure she gets into bed okay, then he can leave. He can drive back to his apartment, throw himself into his own bed and try not to grind his teeth throughout the night at the fact that a bunch of fabric and fibres is taking his rightful place. 

“You could stay.” He hasn’t even realised she’s watching him, too, hip resting against the sink as she takes the toothbrush from her mouth. “It’s late and you’re clearly spent, and you need to be back here in the morning anyway.”

“Thought you didn’t want me hurting my back on your couch?” He hums, sleepily.

There’s a beat. A heavy silence as she levels him with a look that’s more intense than her pretty eyes allow. “I don’t.” 

Oh.

He can be cool about this, he thinks, despite his exhaustion. He doesn’t want to overreact to the thought of sharing a bed with her, doesn’t want to make her rethink it or scare her away. It’s just the two of them sleeping beside each other. It’s not the craziest thing they’ve ever done.

The ever growing roundness of her belly peaking out the bottom of her tank top is evidence enough of that. 

“Your bed isn’t big enough for the three of us,” he nods back towards the pillow, his lips twisting in mirth.

“Four,” she says around her toothbrush, spitting out the paste into the sink before adding, “Five, if you’re taking Bunny into account, too.”

“Jesus, Poppy,” he snorts, and he doesn’t know why he’s pushing his luck anymore, risking the fact that she might change her mind, but he likes pressing her buttons. Likes the soft way in which she looks up at him, her eyes going round as she waits for him to respond with a slight smudge of white at the corner of her lip that he wants to swipe at with his thumb. “You sure you can fit me in?”

She nods, tilting her head like she has to convince him at all. “We could cuddle?”

He scoffs, more so in disbelief that she actually thinks he needs to be talked into it somehow. “Thought that’s what your pillow is for?” He teases, pushing himself off the doorjamb and sliding past her with a steadying hand on her hip, reaching for his toothbrush and holding it out for her to add the paste. 

“You’re really gonna use up the last of your energy to chirp a pillow?”

“It’s hideous,” he mumbles almost intelligibly around the toothbrush, snickering when Poppy bumps her hip into his. 

“It’s relaxing.” She pouts, leaning once more against the sink instead of vacating the bathroom, watching as he brushes his teeth with a lingering gaze stuck to the movement of his lips. “You did this to me, you should be more concerned about my comfort.”

“I’m very concerned about you,” he coos, finishing up at the sink and wiping his mouth with his wrist before rinsing it off. “Lie awake worrying about you here all alone, turns out you’re snuggled up to a big, strong bunch of fluff every night.”

“Ohh,” she taunts, backing out of the bathroom before calling him out. “You’re jealous.”

“M’not jealous,” he scoffs, following her and watching as she climbs into her all-too-inviting bed. “Just not playing three in the bed with your body pillow.”

He rounds the frame, and before she can protest, he grabs the thing with an unassuming grip, not expecting the weight of it and only able to fling it to the floor by his feet - not as far as he’d like but at least it isn’t on his side of the bed, anymore, he thinks.

“Hey,” she pouts adorably, lips round and too alluring for him to focus on for long. “If I can’t sleep on that, you’re gonna have to let me sleep on you.”

“On me?”

“Yep. Wrapped around you like a vine,” she affirms, “And I don’t wanna hear you whining about dead arms or dead legs, the pillow doesn’t talk back and I’m not above kicking you out in the middle of the night.”

“Can’t see myself complaining about being wrapped around like a vine,” he chuckles, his fingers working deftly to unbutton his pants, chest heating at the way her eyes follow the movement and her lips part. He tries so hard not to let the smug smile that’s threatening to break out fully take over his lips, biting at them to withhold it as he notices her stare go glassy. 

“Good.” She mutters, distracted as he pushes down, the fabric bunching at his ankles before he kicks it off and bends to take off his socks, too. 

He moves to take off his shirt, stopping with his fingers clutched at the back before he asks, “This okay?”

Her throat bobs, and her eyes flicker from the flex of his muscles to meet his gaze, widened and dazed. She presses her lips together and nods, and he can feel the heat of her stare prickle at his skin as he works the t-shirt over his head, shaking his hair back out once it’s off.

Even in the dimmed light, he can see the warmth creeping up her neck, the flush on her chest and the tug of her bottom lip between her teeth.

That article he had found the night before flashes clearly in his head, and reads back to him almost verbatim.

With the loss of fatigue and nausea at the end of the first trimester, expectant mothers may experience an increase in their sex drive. 

Poppy looks like she wants to eat him whole.

It makes him feel like he’s on fire. 

Especially when he considers what happened the last time they were in this bed together.

If she wasn’t fighting so hard to keep her eyes open, he might have called her out on it. 

He reaches to turn off the light before he crawls under the covers and sidles up to her body, laying on his side and watching as she mirrors him, the two of them knocking knees in the middle of the mattress. 

“C’mon then,” he mutters lowly into the space between them, “Do your worst.”

“You don’t actually want me to sleep on you.”

“I don’t care how you sleep as long as you’re actually sleeping.”

“You’ll regret that when I keep you up all night fidgeting in my dreams.” Her body relaxes a little more as they carry on talking, her legs loosening until he starts to feel them press a little more against his own, and he tries to best to make his limbs receptive, adapting to her touch - adapting to her needs, even. 

“You’re still having bad dreams?”

He remembers her talking to his mom about them before - about them making her feel restless, so vivid that she wakes up still feeling exhausted. He remembers his mom talking about the kind of dreams she had when she was carrying him, about animals and aliens and weird, subconscious fears she didn’t even know she had before she was pregnant.

“They’re not all bad,” she hums, “Just strange.”

“What are they about?”

Her eyes flicker up to his, still shining in the darkness of the room, and it makes his throat go dry.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Talking about it might help,” he insists.

She considers it for a second, and he holds his breath while she does, watching her gaze go back and forth between his eyes until it settles on his mouth. “I dream about you.”

“About me?” He frowns, despite the jump of his heart rate, “Like nightmares?”

“No,” she shifts toward him, closing the gap between them just that little bit more, “Not like that, not scary.” She presses her hand to his chest, soft fingertips toying with the gold chain that sits around the base of his neck. “Sad, maybe.”

“Sad dreams?” He asks, and she’s close enough now that he extends an arm out under the covers to rest on her hip, flexing his fingers out to the small of her back.

“You keep leaving me.”

“Oh.”

Great, he thinks, even the dream version of him lets her down.

“It doesn’t mean anything, it’s just a dream. I know you wouldn’t, ‘cause you’re obsessed with me, and all,” Closer again, her hips wiggle and his grip on her tightens ever so slightly. “But it feels real, and I guess I get upset about it.”

“Poppy-,”

“It’s stupid, I know.”

“It’s not stupid,” he frowns, clutching at her with purpose now, using the leverage he has on her hip to push his own closer to her, their legs fully intertwined now. “I mean, it’s stupid in the sense that I would never leave you, but it’s not stupid that the thought of it upsets you. I’d be upset, too.”

“You would?”

“Mohn,” he doesn’t know how they can get closer, but he can only try. His legs are slotted between hers, her thigh draped across his, the swell of her tummy pressed into the curve of his waist, bare skin touching where her tank top has ridden up and it’s warm and soft and intoxicating, almost. Her hands are pressed to his chest and shoulder, short nails tickling at the flesh there when she chooses to gently scrape and scratch at him, and he could so easily inch his face toward hers until their mouths meet. “If I kept dreaming that you were leaving me, I’d be waking up screaming and crying and holding onto you for dear life.”

The smile she gives him is almost shy, and he feels his heart melting into a sticky, gloopy pile in his chest. He’s so far gone for her it isn’t even funny anymore, isn’t something he feels like he can shoulder the jokes of for much longer. It’s all-consuming, and serious, and it washes over him like a tidal wave when she says, “I’d never leave you either.”

He presses the tip of his nose to hers, bumping at it until she angles her head how he needs, and he can press his lips to the swell of hers.

This kiss reminds him of the one she had given him back in her bedroom at her parent’s house.

It’s gentle, unassuming, tame, if anything.

It might be one of his favourites.

Because this kind of intimacy with her means more than the rushed, frantic collisions they had found themselves in before.

As much as he enjoyed those, and if you’d have asked him at any other point in the day, he’d have given an arm and a leg to have experienced them again, these kinds of kisses mean more to him than that. 

They’re precious to him - provide comfort when he’s laying awake most nights in his own bed, and thinking of all the ways in which he wants to take the next steps with her. He thinks about the soft press of their lips together, and the deeper meaning of it being the sturdy foundations of something way bigger.

This is where it starts for them.

It’s about more than that - it’s about the dedication the two of them share to do things right. To take their time with each other to make sure that it will last this time.

And it’s in her lips he always finds the affirmations he needs. It will last this time. 

He lets out a self-satisfied hum when they part, half chuckle, half sigh, and she tilts her head inquisitively before her eyes flutter open. “What?”

“Nothing.” And when she leans back and looks up at him with a pouty frown, he snorts. “Maybe I should be jealous of the pillow if this is what you’ve been getting up to.”

“Shh,” she cranes her neck and presses her face into the warmth of his chest, before mumbling “Pillows don’t talk, remember,” into it and smiling into the vibrations of his fond laughter.

He falls asleep thinking about the way all the curves of her perfectly fit into the curves of him - the puff of her smiling cheeks pressing into his chest, the swell of her belly pressing into his waist, and the wrap of her legs locking him into an embrace he wouldn’t want to leave even if he had a choice about it.

Nico had thought it would have been the fidgeting that kept him awake. The first few times he woke in the night to Poppy shuffling in his arms, he had just waited it out until her body relaxed, and would subtly and softly tighten his hold on her until she settled into it - the warmth of him easing her back into slumber and allowing him to fall back, too.

He had gotten used to it after that, his body not rousing fully from sleep most times, instinctively accommodating whichever position she needed to be in until he slipped back under, and he could hardly say it irritated him - the desire to be in this position far outweighing his need for an uninterrupted, full night’s sleep.

But then the noises had started. The hums and the whimpers, the staggered breaths, the whines - and he couldn’t stay asleep thinking she was having another of those dreams.

The one where some alternate, dip-shit version of himself leaves her for whatever stupid reason. 

That brings him into full consciousness, tightening his hold on her with a furrowed brow, hand splayed out across the exposed part of her lower back, where her tank has bunched up to reveal warm skin, and he presses firmly until they’re touching at every which point of their bodies they possibly can.

Maybe in her dreams she’ll feel his presence, feel comforted, and the rational part of her brain will kick in that it isn’t real - that she has nothing to worry or be afraid about if he can seep into her subconscious with every touch.

And then she makes another noise - a mixture of a shudder-like breath and a gasp - and her hips jut forward, and he realises that maybe that isn’t the kind of dream she’s having. When he focuses on the other places they are touching, he knows for sure.

With one of his thighs slotted between hers, pressed right up against the apex where they meet, he swears he can feel a dampness even through her shorts.

Fuck.

Oh God.

He can feel himself half-hard already, he’s been that way since he crawled into bed beside her and they snuggled up so close, but this is impossible to ignore now. It doesn’t help how close they are, feeling himself stiffening into her side.

Arousal swirls like a whirlpool in the pit of his stomach, and it whooshes almost out of control when he feels her jut her hips again, grinding down onto his flesh and whimpering into his chest.

“Poppy,” he breathes, figuring he can’t let her carry on now that he’s awake, himself. It wouldn’t be right, he thinks, and curses the part of himself that argues internally. He pinches at her hip, careful not to aid her in her movements, before he tries again. “Poppy, wake up.”

She whines, shuffling as she regains consciousness, her face pressing into his chest as he just about makes out her grumbling, “Don’t want to.”

“You’ve got to.” He squeezes again, willing himself to ignore how good it feels to hold the fleshy part of her hip in his hands. He leans back a little with his neck, careful not to move any part of his lower body now that she’s awake, and looks down at her as her face contorts in confusion. “C’mon, need you to look at me.”

“Nico,” God help him, it sounds like a moan. And double God help him, because she shuffles with her whole body against him, and presses one of her thighs straight into the hardened length in his briefs. She gasps at the same time he winces, and her eyes shoot up to meet his, glistening in the dark of the night and panicked. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-,”

“S’fine,” he mumbles, desperate for her not to shuffle back away from his touch, and he feels relief flood his system when she keeps his leg slotted between hers, only separating their bodies at the top.

“Do you need to handle that?”

“No, I’ll be good.” It’s probably a lie. If she carries on the way she has been, he’ll no doubt have some sort of internal meltdown. He’ll stay hard just thinking about it for weeks. “Do you?”

“Do I?”

“Yeah, you were uhm-,” he breathes, not knowing why he’s embarrassed to say it when she’s literally pregnant with his child. They’re both adults, who have been there and done that once before - and have spent the last few hours slotted together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. “Dreaming.”

“I was-,” she frowns, brows scrunching together and lips forming a pout around her next words that don’t quite tumble out before she gasps, her hips shifting like she has realised what rests between them for the first time, “Oh my God.”

“It’s okay,” he reassures her as she begins to shuffle back.

“Oh my God!” She scrambles away from him, the sheets twisting around her body, and he feels an almighty loss when the warmth of her is no longer pressed up against him. It makes him realise just how hard he is, now, his focus entirely on the pulsing pressure gathering between his legs instead of her touch.

“It’s fine, at least you weren’t having a nightmare-,”

“No, I’m just living one, now.” She groans, the end muffled by the fact that she pulls her sheets over her face to hide the heat creeping up her neck. 

“Poppy,” he feels a laugh rumble from the depths of his chest, and his brain works too slow to stop it before it comes out in a low chuckle, Poppy responding immediately by poking her head out with a glare.

“You think it’s funny?”

“No-,”

“Tell that to your face!” She pouts, brows furrowed in an attempt at intimidation that she’s too cute to get away with - cheeks flushed, skin glowing from the soft sweat that arose from them bundling up together for so long. “You’re laughing.”

“Not laughing,” he says through a smile, lips twisting in amusement as she huffs in response, and before she can burrow herself back under the covers, he reaches under them to paw at her hip, “C’mere.”

“No.”

“Come here.” He gives her little choice about it, firming his grasp on her flesh and reaching with his other hand to lift and pull her over, twisting his body so that they press back together and he can hold her on top of him. She puts up little protest, balancing herself with soft hands pressed to his bare chest, and he likes the way her fingers curl just a little, nails scratching just enough to feel it. She does make an effort to keep her hips raised, never pressing them fully down as he holds her above him. “It’s fi-,”

“It’s not fine.” She frowns, her nails digging in a little harder, and Nico can’t help the slight buck of his hips. “It’s not fair, I’m so worked up all the time and nothing helps and you’re not doing anything about it-,”

“Me?” He scoffs in amusement, “You want me to do something?”

“Not if you’re gonna keep laughing about it!” She swats at his chest, and he takes a hand from her hip to grasp at her wrist. “You come in here all warm and snuggly, telling me you’re obsessed with me and taking your shirt off in slow motion-,”

He uses the grip on her wrist to catch her off guard, tugging at it until she stumbles, her other wrist going limp as she falls forward, and he leans his own head up to bump their mouths together on her way down.

Poppy’s lips are parted when they meet his, and he takes immediate advantage, slotting his tongue between them until it presses straight against hers, and she responds with fervour, her body arching straight into the curves of his and hips pushing down until he feels that press of the damp patch on her shorts on his bare thigh.

She moves like putty in his hands as he repositions the two of them, twisting his body until he can lay her on the mattress, pushing down into her with the steady rocking of his hips as she lifts hers to meet his in a slow rhythm. 

She breathes soft moans into his mouth, and her legs part completely to accommodate him, wrapping themselves around him for leverage so that she can grind her core directly onto the stiff length in his briefs.

It’s heaven - the way she manages to rock herself straight onto his cock with every roll of her hips - and with the way her lips part with a gasp, he knows she feels it too.

They’re hardly kissing anymore, panting and moaning into each other’s mouths as the friction builds between them - he’s pawing under the hem of her tank top, sliding to push it further up to expose her belly, and she’s clawing at his back, gripping him closer than he thought possible as their chests press together and he realises for the first time all night that she hasn’t been wearing a bra when he feels the hardened buds poke through her top. The hand sneaking up her skin heads straight in that direction, thumb wiggling between their bodies until it runs over her nipple, the sensation furthering the arch of her back and eliciting a deep whine as she bites teasingly down on his bottom lip. 

“S’that feel good?” He mumbles into her mouth, barely able to get the words out before the pressure of her lips around his closes, her tongue darting out to poke at his. She gives an affirmative hum, and he feels the vibrations of it travel all the way down his throat, filling his chest with a warm buzz. He blames the lightheadedness it causes for his incessant need to tease her, but is thankful it doesn’t entirely ruin the moment when he follows up with, “Better than your dreams?”

“Depends if you make me come this time.” She teases back, the tip of her nose bumping his.

Whatever version of him she’s been dreaming of is a loser. A certified idiot. What kind of man has this girl at his fingertips and doesn’t finish the job? Doesn’t satisfy her the way she deserves?

A schmuck.

“Can feel you soaking through your shorts,” He has a hand on her hip that slides down, over the roundness of her ass and grips at the soft flesh of her thighs until he can push himself straight up against her core, his entire body thrumming at the way she writhes in pleasure. “How long you been like this, huh? All desperate for me?”

“Too long,” she whines, pushing back against him, seeking whatever touch or friction she can get, “Need you to fuck me, Nico.”

“Can’t,” he sighs out a halfhearted denial, to which her lips pout in response. He probably could fight through the almighty ache that has settled into his bones, he definitely wants to, but it might not live up to her expectations - the last thing he ever wants to do is disappoint her. “Not tonight, I’d last 10 seconds,”

“I don’t care.” He can tell she means it, she probably isn’t far off, herself, having gotten halfway there just in her sleep. “C’mon, you’re being mean,”

“I could be meaner,” he smirks, his cheeks pushing into dimples that she immediately presses her lips to. “You know how long I’ve waited to touch you again? When you give me those sweet little kisses,”

“Touch me then,” she breathes not too far off his ear, eliciting shivers that creep down his spine until he arches into her. “Please.”

“You don’t have to beg me, pretty Poppy.” He tells her, his voice low as he works at taking her shorts and panties off one leg at a time, her knees bending in time with the movement of his hands. “Remember what I told you before, I’ll give you whatever you want,” he presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Whatever you need,”

“Need you inside me.”

“Do you have a condom?”

“Now you ask me that?” She scoffs in disbelief, breaking out into a chuckle that quickly dies off when she takes notice of where his hands are going, pushing at the waistband of his briefs until he bears his all to her hungry eyes. Her lips part as he stumbles to kick off the fabric, and her gaze lingers as he takes himself into a firm grip and closes the distance, her lashes fluttering in anticipation. 

He slides his length teasingly against her folds, pressing into the wetness that has gathered there, coating himself in it and hearing her pleasured gasp echo around his skull.

“Is that a no?”

“Nico, I swear to God, if you don’t-,” He cuts her off as he pushes his cock into her, further than he thought it could go at first but she’s so wet that he moves with slight ease, already. She’s eager, too, lifting her hips until they meet his, and he’s as far inside her as he can possibly go, settling there as their breathing syncs and he presses his clammy forehead straight to hers.

She’s the one to start shifting, rocking her hips as they both groan and gasp into the small space between their mouths, and their matched desperation seeps into the frantic movements between them, him fucking into her in a building pace and her meeting it with the arch of her back and the scratch of her nails down his. 

He has to be careful not to collapse on top of her entirely, muscles flexing at either side of her head as he holds himself up, and she’s mindful of winding her legs too tight around him, instead working from below to push up to meet him instead of pulling him down to meet her.

It all catches up to him quicker than he would like, overstimulated by the sticky press of his chest to hers, sweat accumulating between their bodies and he feels it everywhere they touch. The clamminess of his neck under her hand at the top of his back, the sheen on his forehead that he uses to reach up to push his hair back when it starts to restrict his view of her, the curve of her belly when she arches a little too much into him and they slot all the way together. But his worries are quelled by the soft trembling of her thighs around him, and the way her mouth falls agape in unadulterated bliss. 

She’s close, too.

“So good to me,” he presses his lips clumsily to the corner of hers, remembering how she’d liked it the last time when he praised her, “My pretty flower, my good girl,”

“Yours,” she pants out, bumping her nose against his before chasing another kiss, muttering, “I’m yours,” between his lips. 

“Mine.” He affirms, his big, calloused hand cupping the side of her sweaty face, possessively. He loses his rhythm as he loses himself in her, his hips stuttering sloppily as he chases his high, “All mine. I’d give you anything. You gonna come for me?”

She nods, and when Nico gets a good look at her, her eyes are glazed over, dazed and on the verge of falling apart, and he balances himself on one hand to reach between them and press at her clit until she stumbles over the edge, legs tightening in a shaky hold around his waist as she comes around him.

He’s actively trying to commit it all to memory, the sweet sounds that spill from her lips, the delicious dig of her nails into his flesh, the tremors that travel all throughout her body as it wracks with pleasure, the way her muscles contract around his cock as it spills into her, filling her with the stutter of his hips.

He collapses to the side of her, their limbs tangling limply between them, her body twisting with his so that he stays inside, and the room filled with the noise of their panting as they both try to catch their breath.

They lay together in blissful peace for a good couple of minutes, her pointing a finger and tracing mindless doodles into his chest and him raking his fingers gently through her hair. Months, and years before that, of tension leading them both to this point, where Nico feels lighter than a feather laying beside the girl of his dreams.

He blames the dizzying way in which she consumes his thoughts for what comes out of his mouth next - but he just feels so content, so at ease, that the stupid joke stumbles out before his brain can register to stop it.

“Don’t think your pillow can do that.”

She snorts from beside him, her eyes crinkling in genuine amusement, and the way her body shakes with laughter has the rumblings of arousal travel through him again. 

“You’re such an idiot,” she giggles, swinging her leg over him and he twists in sync, making sure he stays inside her as she lifts her lips back towards his - any earlier exhaustion from either of them long forgotten as their mouths slot back together and their hips start to move again, chasing further euphoria.

Nico wakes the next morning with a sense of deja-vu that strikes at him like a bat, a full bladder, an ache that settles over him from top to toe, a buzz on a nightstand, and a sleeping Poppy beside him, tucked up against his body with tangled legs and her face pressed into his chest. 

The sun is peaking through the closed curtains, casting the room aglow, and he watches her rouse from her own sleep at the continuous vibrations from beside her. She groans as she twists out from their entanglement, and he keeps a hand at her hip to make sure she doesn’t move too far, already missing the warmth of her.

She checks her phone before she answers it, rolling back over into his side and settling next to him as she shuffles up so that they’re a bit more level.

He watches her as she speaks, admiring how she glows in the small slither of sunlight that casts directly upon her like an angel - despite the mess of her hair and the sleepy-swelling of her face. He isn’t entirely paying attention to what’s being said, watching her fingertips play with the chain that sits on the base of his neck while she talks, leaning forward to bump his nose at her brow and pressing a fleeting kiss there, content in the domesticity of it all. 

He wants all his mornings to start like this.

“That’s perfect, I’ll see you then, thank you.” She closes her call before hanging up, discarding of her phone behind her and focusing her attention back on Nico’s chest.

“Who was that?” He hums as she shuffles back up against him, his hand slithering over her hip to rest on the small of her back.

“Just my ex,” she shrugs, “I’m gonna leave you here on your own and go meet up with him.”

“Wow,” he chuckles, eyes dancing over her lips as they curl into a self-satisfied smirk, “You’ve been dying to fire that bullet, haven’t you?”

“Mmhm, I’m making the most out of my quick wit while I still have it, Luke told me the other day that women’s brains shrink during pregnancy.”

“We need to start taking Google rights away from people.” 

“That’s what I said!” She smiles like she’s proud of the way they think the same things, “It was the doctor’s office. They had a power cut and they’re gonna be running behind so our appointment has been shifted to later.” Her fingers start to dance teasingly across his chest, her tone carrying a suggestive lilt as she continues to speak, her touch moving down as she suggests, “So we could go back to sleep, or we could-,”

He leans up and kisses her with his hands cupping her cheeks, holding her firm against him as he feels her smile against his lips. “I’ll take option two.”

After a blissful morning in Poppy’s apartment, where the two of them, both literally and figuratively, stayed joint at the hip - in her bed, in her shower, no funny business, she said she just wanted to wash his hair, in her kitchen, drinking his morning coffee out of a mug she painted just for him, on her couch, snuggled up when exhaustion caught back up and they had a quick nap together, bad backs be damned - and an early afternoon spent in the doctor’s office, where they learn that their baby is now growing bones, which Poppy should start to feel move soon, and can smile and frown and squint, Nico glides through his afternoon practice with a smile of his own that won’t shift.

He has a new picture that he elatedly displays on the shelf in his cubby, the boys all getting a good look at the now not-so-Cheeto-like shape of his baby, cooing over all the new developments like proud uncles and chirping Nico for the ever-present dopey look on his face. 

No amount of jokes directed his way will ruin this for him, though. 

This feeling of rapture that hasn’t left since he first opened his eyes in the morning. The way his body buzzes at even the thought of the girl waiting for him to finish practice, to come home to an apartment that she had told him earlier to keep the key to, to kiss at her rounding belly and know that their baby is growing hair and limbs and expressions in there.

To finally say goodbye to the baby steps that he’s been taking for what feels like forever, and dive head first into the crystal clear waters of life with Poppy. Sharing a space, being intimate in every which way with one another, it feels like it’s all he’s ever wanted.

And he wants to bask in this feeling for as long as he can, pushing down the impending date of his flight back home, replying to the emails from his national team coach about the upcoming world championship games and then pretending they don’t exist. 

The idea of being in Switzerland for the summer has always filled him with joy - being home, being with his family, it’s where he needs to be after a season like he’s had - losses and injuries and all the turmoil that comes with them - but the thought of being away from Poppy, of missing any of these scans or moments with her and their baby, it fills him with dread. Her mother’s words from their dinner the week before ring through his head like a bell, loud and impossible to ignore. 

Which is why he finds himself heading for her place when his practice is over - after showering at the rink and dropping home to pick up an overnight bag, he drives over with all intentions of spending the night again. Sitting her down and talking over the potential of him flying back out for appointments and visits.

She greets him with a kiss once he’s gotten to her apartment and found her in her kitchen, rendering him stunned for only a second before he responds to her touch, hands falling to her waist and lips closing around hers.

It only drives his point further home that he can’t go too long without seeing her, now. Not if this is how he’s welcomed back, not if this is going to become a thing. 

He pulls her body flush against his, deepening the kiss like it’s been more than a few hours since he last saw her, savouring the taste of her vanilla lip balm and the way her bump presses into his stomach. 

When they part, he finds himself chasing her, pressing quick pecks at her swollen lips until she’s beaming in response, and he feels like his entire body is on fire. 

“Wow, you really are obsessed with me,” she giggles, pressing her hands to his chest to keep him at bay, looking up at him with the glimmer of the light reflecting in her eyes. “You okay?”

“I think your mom was right.”

He doesn’t even know why he said that, the words tumbling out before he can even think them over, and as he can feel his own forehead crease into a frown, and his own brows push together, he sees Poppy’s do the same.

“That might be the most unsexy thing you’ve ever said to me.” She pouts, balm smudged still around her lips as they form into a confused pout that he already wants to kiss away, “Where did that come from?”

“When she said I won’t be around enough,” he flexes his fingers against her hips, tightening his hold on her, “I was thinking about going back home before and I realised I don’t want to miss out on anything, I want to be around if you need me-,”

“Please don’t let her get in your head,” Poppy worries as her hands travel up, her fingers curling delicately around either side of his neck, “She doesn’t understand what being home means to you, she just says things she knows will sting, you shouldn’t have to fly back and forth just to make her happy-,”

“I want to make you happy.”

“You do.” She promises, “When you don’t mention my mother, at least.”

He feels a little better at that, at the conviction of her words, the honesty in her eyes, the soft curve of her lips. But the conversation needs to be had, something needs to be set in place to quell the flickering flames of anxiety that fill his chest before it becomes an inferno. 

Before he can open his mouth to carry on, she speaks instead.

“Go sit down, I have a surprise for you.”

And despite the itch in him to say something else on the topic before she completely shuts it down, he follows her command, the excited sparkle in her eyes hypnotising him into compliance. 

He waits on her couch for her to come over, and when she does, she has a small, white box in hand. Rectangle in shape, around 5 inches deep and 8 inches long.

“What’s this?” He asks when she places the box into his hands, the lid blank and closed.

“Cupcakes.”

“What’s the occasion?” When he goes to lift the lid, she places her hand over his, shuffling until she’s kneeling on the couch, ankles tucked beneath her.

“I’ve been sneaky.”

She looks proud of herself, a sweet grin hesitantly stretching her lips as her eyes dart between his, and he can feel his lips mirror hers.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” she hums, “When I had my blood taken before you came in for the scan earlier, I asked Lucy to write down the gender if she could see it clear enough.”

Nico feels his heart stutter.

It’s one of the big things he had feared missing out on, having been told they wouldn’t get a proper view of it until 16 weeks - in another 2 weeks time - at which point he would more than likely be back home. He had resigned himself to finding out over the phone - still exciting, but not the same. “But I thought they couldn’t see it yet?”

“Depends on the position Cheeto wants to be in,” Poppy shrugs, “They do say it isn’t definite, so if it grows or loses an appendage in the next few weeks, blame Lucy, not me.”

“So you know?”

There’s no way she could have hidden it from him, so far. Poppy can’t keep a secret from him to save her life.

“No. Bonnie at the bakery on the corner knows. She hid it in the frosting.”

Nico takes the lid off the box now on his lap, looking into it to see two cupcakes, a thick serving of white frosting and a round, disc-like cake topper with blue and pink writing.

“Baby Hischier?”

He feels warm all over, a static-like tingling spreading across his skin, and he can feel heat creeping up his neck. It all feels so real, so overwhelming. Seeing their baby earlier, the blurred, splotchy shape of it’s head, little features like a nose, lips and eyes starting to form more clearly in the picture. A little baby with his last name.

“It is your baby,” Poppy chuckles, reaching for the box herself and handing one of the cupcakes over to him. 

“No hyphen?” He elaborates, and he can feel his brow twitch of its own accord, catching her eye and making her lips twist, fondly, in the way that makes him already anticipate some smart-ass comeback.

“It’s a cupcake, not a billboard,” she quips, “We could do that, it that’s what you want?”

“I thought that would be what you wanted.” If it is, he’ll do it that way, but God does he all of a sudden hate hyphens. 

“I haven’t really thought about it, to be honest. Hischier just felt right when I wrote it down for Bonnie. I like your name.”

You can have it, he thinks.

“The less claim my family have to our baby, the better. Plus, it’s kind of the tradition, to give the baby it’s father’s surname.”

“Because we’re so traditional,” he chuckles, liking the way he makes her laugh, too.

“That’s true. Maybe we should make up a name, then? Say, fuck the system,”

“Hischier’s fine.” He says, resolutely, a sudden wave of possessiveness washing over him, and he only feels slightly ashamed of it.

“Hischier is great.” She reassures him, enough to make his chest puff with pride, and the smile that tugs at the corners of her mouth is enough to tell him she’s proud of her own teasing - and all too aware of his mini-neanderthal moment. “Can we get on with it, I’ve been glaring at this box all afternoon.”

“I don’t know, I’m all of a sudden nervous about eating a cupcake.”

“Welcome to my first trimester.”

He can feel the beat of his heart in every inch of his body.

He hasn’t really given it much thought, before now, if there’s any specific gender he wants it to be. He’s always thought it corny, when people say I just want a healthy baby, but that truly is all he wants.

He sees the best of both worlds - a mini him, or a mini Poppy. Half of each of them in one bundle of joy.

He’ll be in love with it, either way.

“We’ve just got to do it,” Poppy says, placing the box down on the coffee table and holding her cupcake across from his. “Close your eyes and take a bite after three.”

He nods, before cheers-ing his cupcake against hers, and then closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and waiting for Poppy to start the countdown. 

“One…” He peaks an eye open, watching and unable to stop the grin that spreads into his cheeks, already. “Two…”

She opens an eye, too.

“Close your eyes, Mohn.” He warns her.

“I was checking yours were closed.”

He makes a show of scrunching them shut, assuming she’s doing the same, and she starts the countdown back up again.

On three, he takes a bite and opens his eyes, disregarding whatever colour sits on his own cupcake and immediately watching for Poppy’s reaction.

Her bite had been clumsy, the frosting smearing on her lips, and where he had wanted to see her eyes light up, his gaze is stuck in a magnetised grip to the soft pink colour of the sugary goodness that now surrounds her mouth. 

A girl.

A mini Poppy - pretty eyes, a killer smile that he folds to in an instant, a sharp tongue that fills his life with equal parts sarcasm and light.

He’s so done for.

Before he can help himself, he discards his cupcake onto the coffee table and pounces forward, hoping that she flings hers in the same direction as he takes her face between both hands and pulls her lips into his, licking the frosting straight from them before he kisses her with all the passion he can muster.

It’s messy, he can feel the icing transfer to his own upper lip, tasting the sugar as she giggles into his mouth, and his whole body lights up with the joy of it all, their teeth clashing in a messy abundance of shared glee.

He can’t get enough of this feeling, of the sound of her blissful laughter, and so even when they part, he keeps going back for more, pressing his lips to any part of her face he can reach - her lips, her chin, her nose, her cheeks - and when they’re touching the corner of her mouth, he feels the movement of it as she asks, “Are you happy?”

“So happy.” It’s an understatement, but he’s hard pressed to think of more elaborate wording, so he kisses her again before saying, “Come home with me. To Switzerland. I don’t want to spend another summer missing you, Poppy. I don’t want to be apart from you and our baby girl.”

He doesn’t know why he hasn’t asked before. He knows it’s what he’s wanted this whole time, to be in the place he loves the most with the girls he might love more. 

“Really?”

“I wanna share the other half of my life with you. We can sort out a doctor so we don’t have to fly back and forth or miss any appointments, and it gives my family a chance to spend time with you, I can show you all my favourite places, we can-,”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“You don’t have to sell it to me, Nico, I’m already there.”

“Yeah?” The thumping of his heart is so vigorous he thinks she can probably see it, breaking out of his chest and flying out toward her like a cartoon. 

“I’m hardly gonna say no to a European summer.” She teases with a shrug, licking at the remaining frosting on her lips before she leans in to press them softly against his, again. 

“The fact I’m there is just a bonus?”

“If that’s what you want to believe.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @alwaysclassyeagle @bunbunbl0gs @idgaf-if-youre-here @youflowerr-youfeast @thearchersstuff @bellsdi0r @wonderheartz @jjgsunflower @butterflies35 @kenziepickle @josierosie @laheyxlover @mrsmattytkachuk @dasiysthings (sorry if your tag hasn't worked btw)

[smoooothoperator]

What Was I Made For?

05: The Loneliest

Charles Leclerc x driver!OC (Dafne Morelli)

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers

Warnings: Charles POV, jaeloussy, Melanie (you'll see), maybehelovesherbutheissoidiottoadmititsohepreferstoactlikehehatesher.

a/n: Hiiii!!! I hope everyone is okay and excited because today is race day!! And Lando is onpole yayyyy. Also, I hope everyone has a great start of summer :3

Masterlist

previous part | next part

If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

The first time the Morelli family met my family was during a trip we made to Greece during summer. Our families sat close to each other during the meals in the restaurant and our parents talked with each other, making us, the kids, hang out together.

The first time I saw Dafne Morelli, she was wearing a pink summer dress with little flowers in it, with her long chocolate hair tied in two pigtails, and her tiny hand wrapped around a plushie of a cat.

At first, we were friends, as friends as you can be with someone you just met. Her sisters and my brothers were the same age, the two of us were middle kids, and somehow we understood each other. 

The first time she said she hated me was a day I was feeling completely sick, wasted. That day I woke up with a stomach ache and I tried to hide it, not wanting to worry my parents, and somehow not wanting to miss the fun of the day.

Our families went together to a beach near the hotel, planning on spending the entire day there, having lunch in a restaurant that is on the first row in front of the beach. I tried my best to seat something, but that made it worse and the nausea kept growing, making me feel anxious.

“Charlie, are you okay?” Dafne was the first one to notice that something bad was happening to me, looking at me worried.

“Yeah, don't worry” 

I barely went to the water that day, staying in the towel, sitting there alone. Until Dafne came to sit next to me.

“Are you sure you are okay?” 

I nodded, looking away and making her sigh. But she stayed there with me. For a moment I thought I was feeling better, so I got up and looked at her, reaching for her hand.

“Let's walk to those rocks, I saw a cat over there” 

She got up with a jump and grabbed my hand, walking with me and searching with her blue eyes for a cat.  And when we found it, she smiled wide. She clapped her tiny hands softly, looking at the calico cat.

“It's so cute!” she gasped, pointing her finger to the animal. “Did you know that in Japan they think that a calico cat means luck?”

“Oh really?” I smiled looking at her. 

“Yes! They think that they scare the ghosts, that's why the men that work on the ships brought them with them. To scare the ghosts” she nodded.

“How do you know that?”

“I'm a cat lover”

I laughed and she looked at me, then at the cat. 

But what happened next was what started it all.

She held my cheeks with her hands and pressed her lips on mine quickly, making me flinch and keep my eyes closed. That was my first kiss.

Maybe it was the nerves because of it, or the fact that I ate when my stomach refused to be nice, or maybe it was the smell of the sea. 

But the moment she took a step back, looking at me with a wide smile, I threw up right in front of her, coughing and gasping.

I heard her gasp and fall back, making her hurt her hands and cry. I gasped once I felt my stomach empty, looking at her, watching how her hands had blood and tiny rocks in it and her eyes full of tears.

“I hate you, Charles Leclerc!” she cried, trying to get up and running away from me. She never called me by my full name.

Dafne Morelli. My first kiss. And the one that hates me the most.

When I started karting, my family invited her family to join us. 

Dafne never talked to me again, and somehow I felt bad because of it. It was like I didn't exist after that incident on the Greek beach. Even if I tried to explain myself, she always walked away, hugging her cat plushie.

I got confused because of that. At first I thought it was because she felt embarrassed, because I threw up just the moment after she kissed me. During all that week when our families were together for the first time, Dafne and I were stuck to each other, playing together and taking naps in the same bed.

At first I thought it was because she discovered the boys were disgusting. But then I saw her with Jules, smiling and talking with him, blushing. 

And somehow, that feeling I never knew I could feel, grew wild. Jealousy. I was jealous. But of what? Of who?

I saw her talking with other boys, smiling and laughing. And when she was near me, everything I received was a glacial gaze, with her blue eyes freezing me even on the hottest day of July.

But what I hated the most is that she started karting too. That Jules was helping her too. That sometimes she was better than me. That, no matter what, she always had her chin up and a proud smile, even if she lost a race or her engine stopped working. 

I started to hate her confidence. How people helped her. How, after she took me out of a race and I was practically sent to the mud, everyone ran to her to check if she was alright.

“Why do you hate her?” Jules asked me after I recognized, for the first time, that I hated her. “She's not bad”

“She is” I groaned. “She makes mistakes and people still congratulate her. It's because she's a girl? I'm doing better than her and no one comes to celebrate my podium like how they go to celebrate her points”

“You are jealous” he sighed. “You have to understand that girls do not always succeed in this sport. People cheer for her because she's brave and she tries. Why do you keep making it harder for her?”

Jules always knew that my career was going to be brilliant. He helped me be on the teams I liked, talked about me to the team principals. And he did the same with Dafne.

And I should feel proud that a woman I know was becoming famous, getting the credits for everything she did. 

But why couldn't I? Why did I always have to keep fighting her, teasing her? Why did I have that need of challenging her to see where her limit was? 

At some point, I forgot why I hated her. Was it because I was jealous? Or maybe because I

was afraid of who she would become if no one stops her? Maybe because people like her more. 

The morning I woke up next to her I felt somehow familiar.

That scent, one that never changed, was next to me again, making me dream with my childhood and those beaches with crystal clear water. It was warm and soft, making me remember that little girl that always asked me to take naps with her.

But when I noticed it was her, I immediately knew that it was a mistake.

Her loud voice made my ears ring, starting a headache I would have for the rest of the day.

When she made me look around the room I understood it. I slept with her.  And our naked bodies and the clothes spread over the floor said that it wasn't only that.

The anger she held in her eyes was something I never saw and it made my heart squeeze tightly, making me swallow thickly and take a step back.

But then, again, words started to blurb without control out of my mouth, making me dissociate from my own body and not understand what was happening. Why am I insulting her? Why is she screaming? Why am I provoking her? Why… Why did she say she slept with Mick? Why, why, why?

The moment her heel hit my chest and threatened me I knew I had to leave before things started to get worse.

This time I fucked up. Big time. 

Jules would be so disappointed with me. So, so, so disappointed. And disgusted.

When I closed the door behind me I gasped, turning around and just facing the door of my own room. 

I thought it was my room. I had sex with Dafne thinking it was Melanie. 

I clench my jaw and search for the key to my room, opening it carefully. But then I found something that, somehow, I knew it could happen.

Melanie with a random guy on my bed. Of course.

“Get out” I said, standing in front of the bed and looking at them. “The two of you. Now!”

They woke up and gasped, hiding their bodies with the blanket. I scoffed, shaking my head and grabbing clean clothes, searching for my phone.

Fuck, where did I leave it? I couldn't find it last night. Where is it? Maybe in the club of the hotel.

“You better be out of this room once I come back” I told Melanie and the other guy. “And whatever that you thought that was going on between us, is done”

I groan and get dressed in the bathroom, not looking at them before walking out of the room.

My mind was spiraling, getting flashbacks from last night. The words I said about Dafne. How angry she was. How did I get to this point? Why? Why can't I stop?

When I went to the club and asked if they found a phone, I knew someone stole it when the guard said there wasn't a phone on lost objects. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I groaned, walking away and going back to the room. Thankfully, Melanie and that guy were no longer there.

I sat on the bed and sighed, looking around. Where is my phone, God damn it. 

After searching all over the room, and not finding it, I gave up and packed all my stuff to leave the room and go home. I'll have to give up the private jet and go home by car, using the GPS of the car and probably listening to the radio.

I walked out of the room with my backpack and suitcase, going to the hall and looking around to see if I could find my family. But they probably left already. Great.

I sighed, going to my car and placing my things there, starting the engine and driving out of the city, driving through the road on my way home.

Nearly four hours of silence, only with the occasional voice of the GPS. I hated it, but I started to think about everything that happened.

Did I really say that Dafne sucked dicks to get on her seat? That she doesn't deserve to be in Formula 1? Who was saying that? Me? 

Twenty years of knowing each other and I still can't understand why I hate her and why she hates me. And it feels that the only thing we know to do when we are around each other is to fight. Why can't we stop? It's so exhausting fighting with her. Why can't I go back in time and tell that little girl that I was feeling sick, that I needed to throw up and stay in bed? 

The moment I opened the door of my apartment I felt my body heavier than ever. I was exhausted, my head was going to explode and the only thing I wanted to do was sleep until tomorrow. 

But I knew I had to do things. I had to go to the bank to cancel my account, just in case whoever stole my phone decided to give themselves a feast and use the card of the phone to buy things. I had to go to the phone company to cancel my card and ask them to give me a new one. I had to use my laptop to close all the social media on my phone.

It felt like I was isolated. Things were happening without me knowing it. People were saying things without me knowing it.

I spent most of the day out, taking care of things and even buying a new phone, assuming I wasn't going to see my old phone anymore.

At first I didn't notice it, but everyone I found in the street or people from the stores were staring at me. Not in a good way, that's what I noticed after the fourth store I walked in. The smiles and welcomes were inexistent. No one walked towards me to take pictures with me. 

When I went back to my apartment, there was another pair of shoes at the front door.

Melanie.

“What are you doing here” I frowned, leaving the bags on the table. “I think I left it clear that I was done with you”

“You actually don't hate her, do you?”

I frown looking at her, clenching my jaw. What is she talking about?

“It’s only a facade” she said. “Come on, it makes sense! And it's perfect for marketing. What was the fandom calling it… Oh, right! Enemies to lovers”

“What are you talking about, Melanie” I frowned.

“You know, at first I was curious when I found out about you” she nodded. “When we matched on Raya I searched for you on Instagram. And there was something that caught my attention. You like brunettes. But not only that. Brunettes with blue eyes”

I clench my jaw, listening to her. There's no way she's saying what I think she will say.

“And then I saw her” she laughed. “Your so-called enemy, Dafne Morelli. How curious, huh? Brunette and blue eyes. You clearly have a type. And that made me think… You dated girls that look like her because you can't have her? That's so ridiculous, you know?”

“Who I date is none of your business” I frowned, trying to defend myself.

“Don't worry” she laughed. “In fact, I helped you to make it more obvious that you hate her. Just so no one will suspect about you being in love with your teammate”

“You are crazy” I groaned. “Me in love with her? Don't make me laugh”

“It wasn't me who went to her room last night to fuck her” she said. “And here's your phone”

I frown and look at her, grabbing her bag and placing my phone on the table. She had it? All this time?

“You should thank me” she smiled. “I probably saved you from telling a lie in public”

“A lie?” I frown.

“Oh, yeah” she chuckled. “Your boss sent you a text asking you to apologize for the words you said last night. I mean, you know what they say about drunk people, that they always tell the truth. And yesterday you were wasted”

I clench my jaw and grab my phone. She knew my code, I told her. What the fuck did she do?

“What have you done” I frown while reading the messages. 

“What you deserve” she laughed, getting up and walking past me. “You wanted to win? I helped you. You're welcome”

Before I could say anything to her, the door of the apartment closed behind her. I grabbed my phone and read everything. The messages I didn't write, the punishment I'll receive. Then the posts on Twitter and Instagram about what happened last night. The hate towards Dafne. 

What have I done?

~

Days went by. My family stopped talking to me disappointed by my actions. I don't blame them, I deserve it.

I tried to talk with Dafne's sisters, but none of them texted back. 

The days I went to Maranello she wasn't there, somehow she found a way of avoiding me just by looking a t the schedule. 

Everyone in the factory was mad with me, disappointed. And it's all my fault. I reached the limit of what was acceptable. And even if I thought about going to talk with Fred and explain that I didn't write those texts, I knew he wouldn't believe me. Why would he? He knew about my rivalry with Dafne.

So I had to accept the blame. I felt ashamed of myself.

“I just don't get it, mate” Pierre sighed, sitting next to me after we went to the golf course. “I knew you and Dafne were rivals since forever, even during karting. But what you said the other Sunday… I'm sorry, but I never imagined you would say something like that”

“I guess… I guess I'm jealous” I sighed. “And I know it sounds childish, that's the worst. But somehow, whenever I see her near me I dissociate and let my body work, watching how it acts alone without me knowing what's going on”

“And why can't you try and talk with her, to explain?” he sighed.

“Believe me, I tried to do that twenty years ago” I sighed, shaking my head. “And she just ignored me, running away. And I probably made her family hate me. So… Hurray…”

I sigh and hold my head with my hands, taking a deep breath. 

“You know she's receiving hate, right?” he sighed. 

“I know… and it's my fault” I groaned. “And I can't apologize because Melanie just did the stupidest thing ever and no one will believe me”

“I told you that girl was suspicious and you never heard…” Pierre laughed weakly, patting my back. “But maybe you should find another way to apologize. I don't know… Use your imagination”

“Yeah, sure” I sighed. “Can you… Can you ask Kika to keep an eye on her? I know they are friends”

“Of course” he nodded.

When I went back to my apartment I frowned when the receptionist called me to give me a letter.

“Seems important, sir” he said. “The mailman came asking for you to give it in hand, but I told him you were out. He asked me to give it to you personally”

“Thank you” I nodded, grabbing the letter and going to my apartment.

I sighed, sitting on the couch and looking at the envelope, opening it. 

And then my breath hitched when I read what it said.

She reported me. She really reported me for defamation.

Fuck.

taglist

@racinggirl @elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @apollosfavkiddo @sltwins @glitterquadricorn @ladystardust05 @theseerbetweenus @vizzzashley @auawdo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @leptitlu

[the-masked-ram]

Fics for Gaza

Here I am taking the plunge. I'm a small blog but fast writer even when it comes to my slower times. So might as well put it to good use.

Planning on joining this fundraiser run by @ficsforgaza and help make everyone happy with some content in the process. Here is my plan of action for my wip and donation costs.

To participate- please make a donation to a vetted fundraiser and send a screenshot/proof of your donation to me in a DM. PLEASE MAKES SURE TO CENSOR ALL YOUR PERSONAL INFORMATION. (internet safety and all that jazz). In the message also let me know what fic you are donating to and I will adjust expected word counts. These screenshots are merely for keeping things as honest as possible and will be shared with @ficsforgaza

-I obviously will not be taking the money myself. Please send it to one of the vetted fundraisers mentioned in the link below.

$5.00 per 800 words or a full drabble series installment

Link to vetted places to donate here! More fundraisers here!

As soon as 50% of any of the fics are sponsored I will automatically start on them.

Drabble series-

Sweet and Sour- Ren Kaji x Fem Reader Drabble Series

Your the new girl in the city. You are tough, sassy, but don't know a lick about the gangs, and if your honest you couldn't care less. But something about Ren Kaji catches your eye. He may snap and bark like a feral dog, but you can see through it and he knows it too. Slowly, you become his sanctuary even though you are the one person he's most afraid won't accept him. And he thought he was past all that. (NSFW)

5.00 for full installment

Read Part One here!

False Immunity- Hiei x Fem Reader Drabble Series

Where Hiei learns the ins and out of human courtship. (NSFW)

Find Part One-Six on my masterlist here! 5.00 for full installment

Multichap Fics-

Flawed Hope- Astarion x OC (BG3)

Brit was a paralegal, someone who had a normal life and enjoyed what she did for the most part. Yet, the only true excitement she felt lately was when she played Baldur's Gate Three. A simple video game brought her more joy than her friends or fleeting romances. One night as depression crushes her she wishes to live one day in BG3. Her wish is granted, however the world of BG3 needs her far longer than her wish had originally intended. And the worst part? She does not get along with her favorite vampire in the slightest. (NSFW)

Read the first four chaps here! WC: 1961/4000

Falling for Frogs- Sebastian x Fem Reader (SDV)

You are game developer about to make their debut into the market. The world you are about to venture into isn't exactly friendly to those of the feminine persuasion and as such you have flown under the radar using a masculine alias online. After a complete mental break down at a very important convention in Zuzu you realize you need to get away from the city for a bit so you can finish your game. Your best friend who runs a farm in Stardew Valley invites you to come stay with her. However as you stay there and get to know the locals, you realize the cute boy you saw at the con is her neighbor. What's even worse is he remembers you and just to add salt to the wound, he's one of your Kickstarters. (NSFW) WC: 309/3000

Read the first three chaps here!

The Unseen and Those Forgotten- Dabi x Fem Reader (BNHA)

The age of the Greek gods is long past. Dabi is one of the few left, his name in the ancient days had been Hades. Now he skulks among the humans, as a deity at half strength. With the old gods dying, the new ones have taken control of the humans’ feeble minds. There is a storm on the horizon though, quite literally, the end of days is nipping at mortality’s heels and the key to unlocking Kronos’s resting place, the only creature strong enough to put a stop to the apocalypse, is you. Sadly you have no idea what part you will play, after all, you are just an office worker who has an affinity for plants.... WC: 0/2000

Find the first three chaps on my masterlist here!

The Hellebore Rift- Hayato Suo x Fem Reader (Wind Breaker)

The town of Makochi has changed and so have all the gangs within it. Gone are the days of allies and rival schools. Gone are the days of delinquents battling for top spots and coming home with happy smiles from good fist fights. Now the world has been ripped apart by rifts that tear the very dimensions in two, spewing forth gigantic blood-thirsty monsters. It has forced the gangs to protect only their parts of town from everyone. Even the civilians, even those they once called friends. With those rifts and monsters, humans were gifted with powers, yet everything good always comes with a fall out. You are one of those few, blessed with the ability to Guide, to save those Espers from the toxicity that their own powers created within themselves when they protect their parts of town. You live in a small section Makochi outside any of the gangs control with a scant few Espers to call your own… or well you did until the day Hayato Suo found you. WC 313/2000

(Chapter one just started)

Oneshots-

Dog Park with Megumi (no title yet)- You don't have dogs but you find yourself at the dog park everyday because you can't have pets. That's where you meet Megumi Fushiguro (NSFW)WC: 0/15000

A Bouquet of Deadly Thorns- Hanahaki Soulmate Gojo x Fem Reader

The world now is riddled with the phenomenon known as soulmates. You don't know yours but before you can even think about finding them, you must get rid of your growing feelings for Satoru Gojo, the only problem is they've grown suffocating and you've started coughing up blood and flower petals. (NSFW) WC: 3098/8000

Tetsuro Kuroo bar night (no title yet)- The first night you meet Kuroo he was celebrating with his friends who'd just won their volley ball game. You were drinking away your sorrows yet again from another shitty date. Fate had a funny way of making you forget things when he gets dared to make a move on you. (NSFW) WC: 0/10,000

My name in your mouth- Professional Poker Player!Suo Hayato x CardShark Fem!Reader Suo Hayato is well known in the gambling circuit, he strikes fear in all his opponents. Terrified that they will lose all the winnings and perhaps even worse to him. You however are a dark horse, a rising star lurking in the shadows among the tables, and you have the arrogance to back it up. You take Suo on and surprise him in more ways then one. But he's desperate to wrest back control from you and the rising sexual tension between the two of you gives him the perfect excuse. (NSFW) WC: 0/7000

Single Drabbles- 5.00 for a full drabble

Jo Togame festival day (sfw) - Link

Jo Togame the baths (NSFW) - Link

Nobara/fem! reader (jjk) (NSFW) shopping day, in the dressing room

Himuro tatsuya/male! reader (knb) (NSFW) pining, street ball rivals

Seishiro Nagi/gn!reader (blue lock) (SPICEY (not full nsfw)) comfort, lazy day, reuniting after long distance for a while

Sebastain/fem! reader (SDV) (nsfw) phone sex

Astarion/male!reader (BG3) (NSFW) dry humping, semi public sex Suo Hayato/fem!reader (wind breaker)(NSFW) overstimulation

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 6 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica can't catch a break at work, and things are just made worse when she's required to plan an event for alumni weekend. Looking forward to seeing Jake on Saturday was only trumped by a surprise visit from him.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, eventually 18+

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

The next morning, Jake was ready to go and standing outside with his travel cup of coffee at 7:25 just to be sure he didn't piss off his ride. At this rate, he was going to owe Bradshaw and his wife something really nice for all of their help with his truck. And with Jessica.

When they both pulled up in the Bronco at exactly 7:30, Jake climbed in the backseat with a smirk. "Sorry I interrupted your evening last night."

She smiled at him and shrugged saying, "It's fine. I hope your truck is repairable." But Bradley just glared at Jake in the rearview mirror as he pulled away from the curb.

"Gonna buy a new one, I think," he replied. "Just to be on the safe side."

As the Bronco coasted to a stop at a red light, she turned to face him. "How was your date with Jessica?"

Jake groaned and said, "That's why I'm getting a new truck. I had to run five miles, and I was late meeting her. Almost fucked it all up. I love that shitty, old truck, but I'll need something more reliable if she actually agrees to date me."

Bradley snorted. "Yes. Get something more reliable so you don't inconvenience Jessica." He gestured to his wife in the passenger seat as the light turned green. "She was asleep when I got home last night. Just in case you were curious."

"I wasn't. But thanks," Jake replied coolly, watching as she laughed and leaned in to kiss her husband's cheek. "And thanks for the ride. I owe you. Again." Jake tried to think about what he could even get for Bradley. What did he even like? Wasn't that Grateful Dead cover band coming to town?

"Wait. You ran five miles after your truck broke down?" Bradshaws's wife asked him. "That's actually kind of romantic. I would have been a mess after that."

"It's not as romantic as all the doors," Bradley grumbled. But now they were driving through the college campus, and Jake's eyes caught on the building where Jessica worked as they pulled up in front of it. Jake also had a front row seat to watch the way Bradley leaned across the seat and kissed his wife as if he wasn't going to see her for a week. 

"Bye, Sugar. I love you so much," he whispered, handing her a lunchbox with a tie dye pattern. She bid him farewell with a similar sentiment and then waved to Jake. And then Bradley sat there and watched to make sure his wife got safely into the building before putting it back in gear. 

"Do you drive your wife to work all the time?" Jake asked awkwardly now from the backseat. 

"Of course. As much as I can."

Jake was quiet for a beat, and then he asked, "I know you and she met a long time ago. Were you ever in love with anyone else?"

"No," came his immediate reply. "Always been a little bit obsessed with that one in particular."

Jake could tell. And that level of devotion was starting to sound more and more appealing to him.

------------------------------

Jessica was so tired of the way she always ended up in tears at the end of every department meeting. This time she was sitting next to Leland, and it just wasn't fair that she was always being singled out. They were going to force her to volunteer to be a faculty advisor for an on-campus event for alumni weekend. She could already tell. It was going to be a tedious waste of her time, and Brian Conley would make some vague promises about getting her on a tenure track. But she just knew he'd never let that happen.

"Let's chat when we're done here, Dr. Reed," Conley announced in front of everyone like Jessica was a small child who needed to be reprimanded. And when everyone else was dismissed, she didn't move from her seat towards the back of the room. If he wanted to talk to her, he could do it from there. Because now she was just getting mad. 

Almost all of the warm fuzzy feelings leftover from her Chippy's date with Jake were gone and replaced by self loathing. She had fucked up her career. She had fucked up her relationship with probably everyone in the science department. And she would most likely fuck things up with Jake, too. 

"Jessica," Conley said softly, shaking his head. 

"Please, call me Dr. Reed or Professor Reed," she managed to say without letting on that she was about to cry. 

He sighed like she was the biggest inconvenience in his life and raked his fingers through his sexy salt and pepper hair. "Dr. Reed," he said with a sarcastic looking smile. "If you want to even stand a chance at tenure, then you need to comply with my ideas."

"It's so convenient that you are the one in charge of tenure for the department, isn't it? You know how hard I work. You know how much I care about my students. This shouldn't even be an issue."

Then he strode across the room and walked down the row of seats she was sitting in and loomed over her as he said, "You are the one who made it an issue. Not me."

Jessica was torn between the urge to tell him to fuck off and the desire to burst into tears. But she sat there quietly with her eyes trained on his as he added, "Now pick one of the events to manage for alumni weekend, or I can guarantee you'll be an adjunct professor as long as you remain at this school."

It didn't matter which one she chose, he would make it miserable for her. So she grabbed her bag and stood as tall as she could in her high heels. "Just shoot me an email and let me know the details. It doesn't matter which event I have to manage; I'll do a fucking amazing job with it while you try to bring me down."

She didn't wait for a response. She was out of the room and down the hallway to the elevators before he could say anything. The whole day was going to suck now. She could just tell. If only it were Saturday, she could be at Jake's place where at least her past wasn't hanging over her head constantly. 

After three lectures in a row, she checked her emails upon returning to her office. The first one made her smile, because Advanced Calculus invited Jessica to stop by her office for lunch. The second was from Conley, letting her know that she was in charge of helping to plan and execute a beer pong tournament at one of the fraternity houses. 

"Fuck my life," she moaned, reaching into her desk to get her peanut butter and jelly sandwich and room temperature bottle of water. Now she really didn't feel like having lunch with another actual person, but she didn't want to lose her only friend here. So she slowly made her way down to the other end of the building and the math department. 

When she knocked on the door, she was greeted with a cheery, "Come in!" And Jessica once again marvelled at the spacious office with windows and the beautiful lunch spread out on the desk in front of the other woman. Today it was a delicious looking veggie wrap, an array of mixed nuts, and assorted artisan cheeses.

"Your husband always makes my lunch look even sadder," Jessica said, tossing her sandwich in its ziplock bag onto the desk and sinking into the open chair. 

She responded with a laugh, saying, "Help yourself. He always packs too much in case I need an afternoon snack. How's your day going?"

"Horrible," Jessica whispered, reaching for some of the nuts. "I'm getting roped into helping with an event for alumni weekend. All because I don't have tenure. And even though I've been assured this type of thing will help me get there, I already know it won't."

"The fucking patriarchy," the other woman replied before biting into her wrap. 

"Right?" whined Jessica. "Like I can't win. I'm never going to get ahead here. I wonder if Penn State still wants me. Maybe I should call them." She honestly didn't have much keeping her in California, but Jake immediately came to mind. Which was ridiculous, because they had kissed all of a handful of times last night. But he did run five miles. And he did want Chippy to like him.

"You can't leave me here alone!" Advanced Calculus complained, and Jessica smiled. "Which event do they have you working on?"

As Jessica nibbled on her sandwich, she said, "A beer pong tournament. At a fraternity house." She deadpanned, but the other woman started howling with laughter. 

"I might actually be able to get my husband to come to alumni weekend even though neither of us went to school here!"

"Was he in a Kappa Pi chapter? I could probably make him some sort of guest of honor if he wants."

"No. Beta Gamma. We have the fraternity paddles at home to prove it. But he and I used to play beer pong in college, and I just know he would be more than happy to spend the fifty or hundred bucks per ticket to try to relive his glory days."

Jessica smiled tentatively. "Do you want to help me plan the event? I'm sure I could waive the fees for both of you."

She was expecting a loud resounding no. So when Jessica saw her nod and say, "Sure," she thought she might fall out of her seat. "Let me text my Beer Boy right now so he knows not to make any plans for that day. Not that he ever plans anything except a night out at the bar where I have to babysit him and Jake and the others, but you know..."

And then Jessica sat up a little straighter. Maybe Jake could come to the event, too. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad at all if they were all there. Maybe then Brian Conley would get off her back about everything, or at the very least, she wouldn't be alone when he tried to pick apart every little detail. 

"Thank you," Jessica blurted out. "Like honestly. Thank you for agreeing to help me. And just for inviting me to eat lunch with you."

The other woman looked up from her phone with a surprised expression on her face. "You don't have to thank me. Now.... why don't you tell me a little bit about your date with Jake. I heard that man ran like a hundred miles to see you."

Jessica felt warmth in her cheeks as she divulged a few details about the evening, but then she realized it was nearly time for her to teach her lab class. "I'm sorry, but I need to run. Maybe we can do this again next week?"

"Sure. And I'll start brainstorming some ideas for alumni weekend. I'll recruit Bradley to help. Or maybe not... everything would be tie dye."

Jessica was still smiling as she walked to the lab.

----------------------------

Jessica was no longer smiling when she was three quarters of the way through her office hours and nobody had stopped by. Her stomach was growling so loudly, she was sure you could hear it down by the elevators. And she was shopping on the Victoria's Secret website for something to do. Really, she just wanted to stop at In-N-Out and head home, but then there was a knock on her open door. 

"Reedy," Jake drawled, and she dropped her phone onto her desk with a soft thud. "You got some time for me?"

He looked so damn good in some well worn jeans and a Texas Longhorns shirt. But to make him even more appealing, he was holding some flowers and a container that looked like it was filled with food. 

"Jake," she whispered, standing up behind her desk. She felt goosebumps on her arms and legs as a crooked little grin appeared on his face. He headed straight for her and set the container down, and when he held out the flowers, she took them. "Thanks."

Then she noticed his eyes catch on her phone which was next to the container, and Jake's cheeks flushed pink. He swallowed hard and asked, "You doing some shopping?"

Jessica turned the phone over just as the screen faded to black, but it was too late. Her Victoria's Secret shopping cart full of thigh high stockings, a new garter belt, and a pretty green set had been plainly visible to him. 

"Maybe," she whispered, realizing that the green bra and thong set matched his eyes perfectly. And now she was thinking about how he might react to her wearing them. Jessica whimpered softly. And then his lips came crashing down against hers. She dropped the flowers onto her desk so she could have full access to his body as she stumbled back a step and hit her chair. But Jake had one arm wrapped securely around her waist, keeping her on her feet. 

She let her fingers sink into his silky hair as his tongue met hers, and she whimpered again for him. His kisses were so intentional, so sure. Like he really wanted to be here in this moment. With her. Yet he kept his hands very respectfully on her back. And she realized it had been a year since she'd let anyone touch or kiss her like this. It had been a year since she even tried, and she never expected it to feel this good.

"Wait," she gasped, wrenching her lips away from his and pulling herself from his warm grasp. Jake held his hands up like she'd burned him, and his cheeks grew pinker as she walked around her desk, high heels clicking along the floor.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, his tone bordering on questioning as his eyes followed her across the tiny room. She closed her office door with a soft thud, and then turned to look at him.

"Too many prying eyes around here," she said with a laugh as her fingers skimmed along the doorknob, already missing the feel of Jake. 

"Understood." He looked mildly relieved if no less pink as she made her way back to him. And then she was right in front of him again, and his lips were parted and his fingers were flexing, but he didn't make a move to touch her again as she adjusted her glasses.

She had somehow managed to pour cold water all over the moment by wanting to close the door, but just the idea of Conley walking by and catching them was too much for her to think about. Then Jessica's eyes trailed down to the lettering on Jake's shirt, and her fingers traced the T in Texas before she really knew what she was doing. She made it to the X, before she met his eyes again. 

"Jessica." His voice was deep and a little raspy as he reached for her wrist and flattened her palm against his chest. He covered her hand with his larger one and said, "You're in charge. You set the pace."

How could those words possibly turn her on the way they did? How was this happening? She just nodded and eased both of her hands up along his chest and around his neck while he stroked her arm with one big hand. And then she pushed herself up onto her tiptoes and kissed him softly, guiding his other hand around her waist. 

"I want you to touch me," she whispered against his lips, and that hand rubbed along her hip and then up her side in the most enticing way. 

As Jessica kissed down Jake's neck to the collar of his shirt, he said, "I can't stop thinking about you. Didn't want to wait until Saturday to see you."

She giggled against his stubbled jaw and said, "You come to my office hours so frequently, you're probably my best student."

Jake grunted and said, "Now you're just teasing me."

Jessica pulled away and looked up at his handsome face. "If I wanted to tease you, I would ask what you thought about the thong I was about to order on my phone."

His head tipped back, and she watched his Adam's apple as he swallowed. "You're right. That's a much better way to tease me. And I would say that green is my favorite color." 

When he met her eyes again, he very slowly brought his hand down along her butt. And then they were making out, hands everywhere. Jessica's glasses were crooked on her nose as he pushed his fingers up into her hair, tipping her head back for better access to her kisses. Her tongue was tangled with his again, and her fingers were tucking underneath his shirt when he moaned into her mouth. 

Jake cupped her cheek with his palm and let the kisses taper off, but he still held her reassuringly in place against him with his other hand on her butt. "So are you going to buy it?" he asked breathlessly. 

"Hmm?" she hummed, brushing her lips on his chin.

"The lingerie. Are you going to buy it?"

She gasped. "I don't really need it. I have so much already."

Jake just groaned and shook his head with a look of agony on his face. "You need it. The green ones. You should buy them."

She was in charge. He made it a point of telling her that she was, and now she felt powerful. "Alright. I will."

-----------------------------

Jake was a little nervous that Jessica would be able to feel how hard he was in his jeans when she told him she was going to buy that bra and lace thong that he was dying to see on her. His current state of need was only exacerbated by the way she vaguely told him she already had a whole collection of lingerie at her disposal. 

Maybe it was the high heels or the fact that he could see her light pink bra strap peeking out of the top of her blouse right now. Or maybe it was her glasses and her kiss swollen lips. It didn't matter. Everything she did turned him on. And she wasn't even really doing anything intentionally. Well, except maybe for the slight dirty talk. 

He wanted to make a comment about how pretty that shade of green would look on her or about how he'd love to take it back off of her, but he didn't. Instead he kissed her softly and said, "I stopped by to bring you dinner, so getting to see what you were shopping for was just a bonus, Baby."

She laughed and ducked her head before asking, "What's for dinner, anyway?"

"Chicken parmesan casserole and garlic toast. Oh, and a brownie for dessert."

Suddenly she was reaching for the container and peeking inside the lid. "This looks homemade. You made this?"

"Mmhmm." He rubbed circles into her hips through her skirt with his thumbs. "Trying to get you excited for Saturday."

She laughed and looked up at him. "I was already excited for Saturday."

He kissed her cheek and whispered, "Game starts at one o'clock. And I'm completely out of journals again."

And then Jake found himself standing behind Jessica at her bookshelf while she looked for the titles she wanted. He had one hand on her hip, and the other was held out so she could stack the journals she wanted for the weekend on his palm. "Oh, you'll like this one," she mused, adding one more to the pile. "I've read it a million times."

"Maybe I can read it to you," he murmured, and then her lips were on his again. 

In an ideal world, this would be something already established. He could just take Jessica home with him for the night. Probably have sex and then cuddle. And then they could both leave for work from his place in the morning after a nice shower together. And that sounded so good to him, he was actually willing to put in the work to try to get there. 

But tonight, he helped her carry her bag and her dinner and her flowers to her car. "You take the journals home with you," she whispered, kissing him just below his ear before she climbed into the driver's seat. 

"Enjoy your dinner," he drawled.

"I will," she said with a smile before Jake closed the door for her. And then he walked the two blocks to where he had parked his brand new truck less than an hour previously. 

The engine started up like a dream, and he drove home to clean up his place for Saturday. Not that it was ever too much of a mess; he lived there alone. Regardless, he wanted everything to look perfect. He wanted his couch to look extra inviting. He wanted to impress her. 

Jake didn't even go to the bar on Friday night. Two weeks in a row now he didn't bring a girl home with him and kick her out early Saturday morning. He could have gone to the Hard Deck, and it would have been fine. He could have played pool and annoyed Bradshaw by buying drinks for his wife. It would have been fun, and he could have come home empty handed, no problem. 

But he went to bed early after he jerked off in the shower to the daydream of Jessica in light green lingerie, and he couldn't remember the last time he slept so well. Then he spent Saturday morning getting food prepared for later. 

Jessica told him she wasn't picky and would eat just about anything, so he was getting the ingredients ready to make chili with the pregame show playing on his massive TV. Then there was a knock on his door. Jessica was standing there holding a six pack of Sam Adams bottles and wearing a fitted Texas A&M shirt and tight black leggings. He couldn't really tell if she was wearing any makeup, and she had traded in her high heels for some beat up sneakers. And Jake felt a little weak. 

"Hi." Her voice was soft as he opened the door wider.

"I told you not to bring anything," he said, eyes fixed on her body as she walked past him into his living room and looked around.

She turned back to smile at him over her shoulder. She looked maybe a little younger and so much more petite like this. Jake had to fight the urge to pick her up and carry her around. "Nice place. You going to give me a tour?"

"I dunno," he mumbled, closing the distance to her. "You're wearing an A&M shirt. The Longhorns' biggest rival."

She pressed her lips together, trying not to smile. "I thought you could make an exception for me?"

He took the six pack from her and brought his other hand up to cup her cheek. He kissed her slow and steady until he felt her fingers meet the waistband of his jeans. "Just for you," he promised. "Nobody else."

When he led her into the kitchen to put the beer away, Jake had to laugh. Her maroon and gray shirt perfectly matched his new truck. "What's funny?" she asked as he closed the fridge. 

"I just realized my new truck is maroon with gray trim. Just like fucking A&M. I've gotta be the worst Longhorns fan around."

"You got a new truck?" she asked, eyes wide. 

"Yeah. Thursday right after work, before I brought you dinner. Can't be late to meet you again."

"Seriously, you bought a new truck?" she asked, lips parted as she gaped up at him. 

"Yeah, it was time. Still hoping the old one can get fixed up. I tend to like to hold onto things once I get attached to them."

"That sounds nice," she said, lacing her fingers with his while he took her on a tour of his condo. He showed her his bedroom and the balcony after she inspected all of the food he had out on the counter for later. And she just kept getting closer to him until they were right next to the couch.

The game was about to start, so Jake just went ahead and told her what he wanted her to know. "I think I'm getting attached to you, Reedy."

She closed her eyes and let her cheek come to rest on his chest. "Are you going to try to hold onto me?"

Jake wrapped his arms around her and said, "Yes."

----------------------------

I can't get enough of Jake (who even am I?). And I love Beer Boy being so snarky to Jake and so loving to Sugar. Reedy + Sugar = bffs? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 7

@blahehblah

@sotalife

@desert-fern

@furiouspiespytaco

@rosiahills22

@daggerspare-standingby

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-joyride

@theharddeck

@captain-beskar

@withakindheartx

@roosterscockpit

@whatislovevavy

@rosesreekofoccasion

@hangmanbrainrot

@neferpatra

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@averyhotchner

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@mygyn

@hoyaharper

@tallyovie

@gennyanydots

@callsign-magnolia

@whisperofsong

@seriouslyseresin

@double-j

@bradshawsbitch

@sugarcoated-lame

@katiebby04

@anotherr-fine-mess

@supernaturaldawning

@chassy21

@strrywmen

@tylerjones98

@captainjaspenor

@gigisimsonmars

@fanboyswhore9

@angel-w0nderland

@abaker74

@idontcare-11

@isaebellaa

@bringnattolife

@xoxabs88xox

[sentientcave]

Heavy Weighs the Crown

Chapter 5 - Plans Laid in Darkness

< Prev Chapter - Chapter Index -

Read on AO3

Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader/OC, No Y/N, Politicking, Hail Kastovia!, We are learning to communicate, Soap is a good boy, canon typical violence, Konig (derogatory)

~5.2k words - MDNI

"Hello, princess," Kate says. She's using that dry, guarded tone that she used to use, before you got comfortable with each other. It's like you're strangers again, and not women that spent the past six years living under the same roof. It makes your heart ache— She's family. Really your only family, even if you have no shared blood.

She's wearing a dark cloak with embroidery of dark, nearly invisible ravens and bright stars around the hood and hem, a midwinter gift from you and her wife, that you spent weeks working on. You can see the top edge of the thick woolen socks that you knit her over the edge of her boots. You'd mended and reinforced the pockets on her trousers countless times. Kate was always hard on her clothes. You used to tease her about it when she'd come to you, sheepishly bearing a torn out pocket or a ripped seam. She always made up some silly story about how it had happened, just to make you laugh.

But she stands in front of you as the Watcher, the spymaster, and not as your Aunt Katie, and you don't care for it one bit.

She tenses when you stride across the room to her, but relaxes when you throw your arms around her tightly. "I missed you," you say softly. "I wish you'd told me what was going on."

"I know, honey. I thought I'd have more time. John promised not to interfere with you so long as you didn't interfere with him or his men. He's never broken his word before."

"He still hasn't," you admit. "It was my fault. A bird flew up and startled sir Garrick's horse, and I chased after. He was sleeping by the road, and…" you trail off, realizing what had really happened. It was too easy to forget that Kyle had a knack for illusion. He'd spooked the horse on purpose. "Well, he tricked me, and I fell for it."

Kate huffed out a laugh. "I should have been more careful with my phrasing. John is far too good at twisting things to his advantage."

You hum in agreement, turning towards the door when you hear a sharp knock. It opens before you can say anything, but it's just Farah, and not one of the men.

"Commander Karim," Kate says. "Good to see you again."

"Always a pleasure, Watcher," Farah responds, nodding politely. "I owe you a favour for the intel one of your ravens gave me a few weeks ago. Saved my men from walking into an ambush."

"No favour necessary. You actually helped me clean up a mess that same day." Kate smiles wolfishly. "My raven caught his mark when they turned tail to run."

Farah nods. “Then it seems we help each other.”

The two of them talk while you get ready, and flank you as you make your way down to the appropriate parlour, although Kate gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and heads off down the hall rather than follow you into the room like Farah does.

That’s always been her way. You’re sure you’ll see her later.

The Kastovian ambassador sits in a a chair by the window, dressed in a dark red suit. He smiles and stands whn you enter the room, Kate and Farah a step behind you. “Princess!” he says warmly, hands outstretched. “You are more radiant than I imagined you would be. It is not fair that John has been hiding you away all this time.” He pulls you close when he takes your hands, and kisses you on each cheek, closer to your mouth than is necessary.

“It was my choice to remain out of sight. I feared my presence would be a distraction from John’s work. I worried hat I would be as well loved as my father.” You smile, and sit next do John. “It seemed I did not need to fear so.”

“Of course not! Your father was a wicked man. You were not the one waging wars, your majesty. You were just a girl,” Nikolai continues. “And no you are a beautiful woman. Your kind heart is evident.”

“Beauty has little to do with kindness.”

Nikolai grins. “No. Or I would be a much better man than I am.” He settles back in his chair and picks up his wine glass. He raises it, looking at you over the rim, dark eyes glimmering. “To beauty and kindness.”

John hands you a wine glass, and you raise it in response. “To good sense and diplomacy.”

John hums next to you, pleased with how you’re handling the ambassador, by your guess. He levels an unimpressed look at Nikolai. “Are you satisfied?”

“No, it’s much too soon. I will let you know when I am satisfied, your lordship. It will not be until I speak to her majesty alone.” His mismatch of your titles is clearly intentional, meant to rile John up, make him commit a mistake. “But I do hope to be fed first, or I will try to eat you up, majesty. I’m afraid I have a weakness for beautiful women such as you.”

You steal a glance at Ghost, at the war mask, the visage of a skull glaring at the ambassador. You prefer the blank fencers mask, but you can see his eyes like this, deep brown, pale lashes catching the light. Farah stands next to him, almost comically small in comparison. By the forward tilt of the mask, Ghost isn’t pleased with the ambassadors tone, and Farah’s disdain is clear. Both of them have their hands braced on their belts. It was probably a good idea to have them remove their swords before entering the room, although you suspect that each of them is still armed to the teeth.

The man standing behnd Nikolai’s chair is similarly braced. He’s huge, taller even than Ghost, though not quite as broad, and masked as well, with something that looks like an executioner’s hood. The cold gleam of his eyes makes you shudder, until a wet nose pushes under your palm. You relax a bit, petting your hand over Soap’s fuzzy head, glad for the reassurance.

“I trust your journey was an easy on,” you say, changing the subject from how edible you look. “You arrived quite quickly.”

“Luckily, I was already on my way. Your cousin sends his regards, majesty. He is disappointed that he cannot be here himself.” Nikolai eyes Soap suspiciously, but says nothing.

“If he were so concerned, why did he never inquire after her?” John asks. “So many years with no mention.”

“Perhaps he was concerned that a mention of her would have you expanding your search,” Nikolai suggested. “He could not not be certain that she could be safe with you either.”

“As you can see, I’m quite safe, thank you,” you say pleasantly. “John allowed me time in the country to recover from the stress of the war. It was very kind of him.” You smile at John, warning him to behave himself. It would do no one any good for him to scrap with the ambassador. “It was good for me.”

“Clearly. You were too thin before. Listless. And now you’re vibrant and lovely. It is heartening to see.” Nikolai continued to smile, not once dropping his friendly mask. “Of course, you were little more than a child when last we met. Perhaps you do not remember me.”

Did you recall? Of course you remembered being trotted out during the many failed bids for peace between your homeland and Kastovia. Nikolai wasn’t just any ambassador, he was a prince, one of the younger ones. Not likely to ever take the Kastovian throne himself, unless his brother and grown-up nieces and nephews were all to perish. Not likely, unless foul play was involved. It was understandable, why he was so interested in securing an alliance through marriage to you, even though during those talks you had only been fifteen, and still too young to marry. It would have been a long engagement, but peace fell apart long before you turned eighteen, blessedly, or you would have been married to him, probably with a few children by now.

Nikolai seemed a pleasant enough sort of man, but there was something calculating in his eyes, like he was mentally tallying what everyone in the room was worth to him. You’re not sure you’d care for a husband who kept such a close eye on his ledgers.

“I remember.” You give Soap another scratch behind the ears, glad to have the comforting weight of his big head on your knee. “Strange to think of what could have been.”

“If I’d known you would grow into such a beauty, I would have worked harder to negotiate peace.” Nikolai looks at John as he says that, but his eyes flicker back to you quickly. “I suspect you will make a pretty bride.”

“I certainly hope so,” you say blithely. “Now, why don’t we move to the dining room? I’m sure you’re very hungry, after so much travel.”

“Starving,” he says.

Farah makes a scoffing noise behind you, but manages not to say whatever scalding thing comes to mind. You make a mental note to thank her for her restraint later. She told you already that she has no love for Kastovians, but she’s kept a cool head. Certainly a cooler head than John, who looks ruffled.

Both he and Nikolai offer you an arm to escort you to the dining room, but you tuck your hand into the crook of Nikolai’s arm, since he’s the guest. John’s frown deepens, but it’s not your job to manage a grown man’s emotional state. He’s a king, and it’s up to him to act like it.

There’s a certain tesnion in the air over dinner, summering under the light conversation. Nikolai takes a perverse sort of delight in saying things that are polite on the surface, and insulting if you think about them for more than a minute, although he directs all of these hidden barbs at John. To you he’s entirely charming, his dark eyes laughing whenever John leans in to speak to you quietly. It would be funny to watch the two of them have their polite little battle, if you were not the object that they both seemed to covet.

John’s possessive little displays are nothing if not an annoyance. You look forward to leaving again, and going home, back to your cozy room in Kate’s house, back to your chickens and your village and your routines. You’ll miss Kyle and Ghost and Johnny, but you’re sure they’ll visit if you ask. Ghost might even go back to his double life as a blacksmith, and you can pretend you never sussed him out, and actually talk to him, rather than just exchange the odd glance now and again. John will be much less free to make little visits to unimportant former princesses, and probably busy finding himself a suitable wife to mother his children and secure his bloodline.

Finally, dinner ends without anyone losing their temper, and the others retreat to the green parlour as you escort Nikolai to the next room. Farah and Soap stay by your side, although Nikolai’s own guard is dismissed.

“I had hoped to speak with you privately,” Nikolai says, raising his eyebrows at Farah pointedly.

“Commander Karim is my personal guard, as well as my friend. She would soon know anything you had to say to me regardless, so if you cannot say what you wish to in front of her, consider holding your tongue.” You sit, and Soap settles himself at your feet, the very picture of a loyal hound. “Now, what can I do for you, sir?”

“You should take me as your husband. Forget whatever deals you have made with John. Forget that idiot cousin of yours. I know wha it means to rule. You would not have to worry about any more wars with my people, or anything at all. I would gladly lift all burdens from your lovely shoulders.” He makes his bid standing before you, keeping a safe distance, wary of Soap’s sharp teeth. “I would treat you well, your majesty. Like you deserve.”

You sit back in the chair, eyes half lidded, giving no emotion away, although you almost wish to laugh at the audacity. “Is that all?” you ask mildly.

“Would you like more?” he asks. “Favourable trade agreements, perhaps, or land? My own lands lay just across the border, I could cede them to you. Name your desire, my lady, and you can have it.”

“I desire nothing that you could give me, except to deliver my sincere wishes that my dear cousin sets aside his ambition for the throne. John has made a fine king for these past few years, and I hope he continues to be for many more.” You smile, all polite restraint still. “Is there anything else that you wish to say?”

Nikolai looks at you, eyes narrowing slightly, his calculation of you changing somewhat. He’s not pleased by your refusal to even entertain his offer, but not surprised either. “Such loyalty, despite what he did to your father. How has he earned such devotion?”

“By being a good man, and improving the lot of my people. There is nothing else I need from him.”

Nikolai nods. “I see.”

“I hope you’ll excuse me, I’d like to speak with Commander Karim. I believe the others have returned to the green parlour, if you’d like to rejoin them.”

He doesn’t balk at the dismissal either, just gives a shallow bow and leaves.

“That was the right response,” Farah says approvingly. “If he though there was even a chance to gain your hand he would spend the rest of the evening behaving very badly. It would not look good if John or Ghost hits him.”

Soap gets up from his spot on the floor and trots behind a chair, the bone crunching sound of his transition filling the room for a moment. “Sweetpea,” he says, his fingers gripping the upholstery nervously. “I think there’s somethin’ you should know.”

“What it it?” you ask.

He swallows hard, blue eyes darting between you and the door. “John intends to marry ye tomorrow. He figured if he manuevered things just so hat you wouldn’t be able to refuse him, but I think you ought tae know.”

Farah goes extremely still, her eyebrows snapping together with an almost audible click. “He didn’t tell you?”

You drop your head into your hands, trying to control the spike of anger. “Oh, I’m going to kill him,” you say. “I am going to murder that man.”

“I will assist,” Farah promises.

“I am sorry I didnae say somethin’ earlier,” Johnny says, shoulders raised defensively, as though he still expects that you might shout at him. “I shoulda. S’just— It’s Price. He’s been good tae me. But yer so sweet, and you deserved tae know.” He looks a bit green from betraying his friend’s trust, but relieved too. It must have been weighing heavy on his mind.

You stand, and walk over to him, cupping his face gently between your palms. “Thank you for telling me.” Impulsively, you press a kiss to his mouth, not expecting the enthusiastic response. He pulls you closer, arms sliding around your back, his tongue lapping across your lips. He kisses messily, without much finesse, but it’ sweet, in it’s own way, how excited he is about it.

Your hands skirt down the tops of his arms, finding the raised edges of scarring you hadn’t noticed under all his freckles. Bumpy, textured skin, like there was sand trapped under the surface. In his wolf form he has bluish grey patches here, and running down his spine and legs. Did the pattern follow the scarring? Or was it just coincidence?

“No kiss for me?” Farah asks. You can hear the smirk in her voice even before you release Johnny and turn around.

“Would you like a kiss, Farah?” you ask.

“Maybe,” she says non-commitally. “Later, perhaps. Do you want to rejoin the others?”

You shake your head. “No, would you mind letting John know that I’m turning in early? Since tomorrow will be such a busy day.”

Farah levels another one of her impressive frowns at you. “I don’t want to leave you alone while those barbarians are here.”

“Johnny will come with me. And he’ll stat with me tonight?” You glance at him for confirmation. “So you can take some time for yourself, Farah. He’ll keep me safe.”

“He had better. I’ll see you in the morning, princess.” She gives Johnny a stern look before she nods to you and leaves the room.

It takes a moment for Johnny to shift back into a wolf, but you step out into the hallway as soon as he does, resting a hand on his head as he trots beside you, tail wagging. You’re quiet, not just because your companion can’t speak, but because you have a lot to mull over. The initial anger has subsided into resignation. You should have known that Price would hear only I’ll support you in any way you need and not your refusal to become his wife. He really is the most infuriating man you’ve ever met in your life.

You are disappointed in Kyle and Ghost as well, but you suspect that Kyle had been about to tell you when the ambassador arrived and John called you down.

The two of them are waiting outside your room, however, with sober, contrite expressions. Well, Kyle, anyway, but here’s an unease to Ghost’s posture that communicates that he feels much the same way, his shoulders tense and head hung low, like a dog waiting for a beating.

“Johnny told me,” you say, because there can be no other reason for their guilt.

The twin exhales of breath almost make you laugh. “We should’ve told you right off,” Ghost says. “Didn’t want to go against John, but—”

“It’s alright, I understand.” And you do, if you’re being honest. It would be foolish to expect them to take your side right away. That they are now still means something. “Do you think I should go through with it?”

Soap wuffs, and Kyle and Ghost look at each other.

“Yeah, we do,” Kyle says.

You regard them for a long moment, and then open your door. “Come in, please.” They follow, and you close the door behind them. The dress sits on a form by your closet, dark green and beautifl. The cream embroidery makes sense now, you can feel the prickle of magic lingering on the weave. You dispell it with a thought, and the illusion melts away, leaving a white gown behind.

“That’s that then.” You sit on th edge of the bed with a sigh. Soap hops up and curls around your back, and Kyle and Ghost settle on each side of you. “I’m going to be queen after all.”

“You’ll be good at it,” Ghost assures you. “You’re smart.”

“And kind. Well reasoned. You care about people, understand them better than John does,” Kyle continues, taking one of your hands, tracing a finger over your knuckles idly. “I think the people need you. Should’ve heard how excited Rosie was about you comin’ back.”

“I haven’t earned that,” you protest. “I haven’t done anything foranyone yet. I have no idea how—” You stop yourself short. Of course you have an idea of what to do. The entirety of your childhood was spent dedicated to learning everything there was to know about being queen. It’s been your destiny before you understood what fate meant.

Everything you learned has just been shoved aside, locked away. It’s time to remember, and accept your role. It’s all a part of you, the good and the bad.

Even the crown.

“Thank you for telling me, even if it does come a little late.” You squeeze Kyle’s hand and pat Ghost on the knee. “I do hope you’ll be more forthright in the future.”

“We’ll ‘ave t’be,” Ghost says. “Can’t be lyin’ to the queen now can we? Not even if John tells us to.”

“Certainly not,” Kyle agrees. “Now, do you want your hair braided for tomorrow? I’m sorry— About yesterday, I—”

“Consider it forgiven. Just don’t do it again!”

You do accept the help with your braids, focusing on sectioning and braiding thr front while Kyle works from the back, summoning a pair of hands that mirror his movements neatly. Ghost and Johnny sit close, watching with curious eyes.

It takes a while— You’re not sure how long— and you’re yawning by the time you’re through. Soap has his head leaned on Ghost’s thigh, half asleep. Ghost hasn’t moved since he settled there, still as a statue. You thank Kyle for his help. You’re not sure that your curls would be in good shape if you left them loose another night.

You stop Ghost when he says goodnight, tugging at his sleeve before he opens the door to leave. “I’ve kissed Kyle and Johnny,” you admit. “And John. Would you like a kiss too? It only seems fair, since I won’t be able to do it again when I’m married.”

“Close your eyes for me,” he says, and you do immediately, your face tipped upwards. You hear the shift of fabric, and then his fingers brush your jaw, so gently, holding you still as he leans in.

His kiss is almost unbearably sweet, soft and gentle, no push to deepen the kiss until you pitch up onto your toes to press closer, hands gripping his shirt. You can feel the scrape of stubble on your chin, smell smoke and cedar on his skin. There’s a slight dip on his upper lip, a scar that hadn’t been visible at dinner the first night, with you seated on his other side. You hum, touching the spot with your tongue. He growls in response, crushing you closer for just a moment before he lets you go.

You wait until he says you can open your eyes before you do. The skull mask lets you see his eyes properly, and there’s fondness shining out from them as he looks at you.

“Goodnight, princess,” he says softly.

You catch his arm again. “Will you walk me down the aisle?” you ask. “It’s fine if you’d rather not, but you’ve been my guardian for a long time. Kate’s the only other person who would do, and she hates being in the centre of things.”

His eyes crease with a smile. “I’d be honoured.”

Soap stays underfoot while you get ready for bed, until you shoo him out of the bathroom so you can change into your nightgown. He whines outside the door, which makes you laugh. “Just a moment, you silly boy,” you scold him. “I’m not letting you see me undressed again.”

He sighs audibly, and there’s a thump as he flops onto the floor.

The two of you settle into bed shortly after, and you fall asleep quickly, arms curled around his neck.

A few hours later, the door to the balcony opens, so quietly that you might not have fully noticed it if not for the way Soap tenses, silently wiggling free of your arms.You squint into the darkness, but there’s not enough light for you to see anything.

“I’m going to turn on the light,” you breathe, barely putting any power behind the words, trusting Soap’s canine ears to pick up what you say. “Close your eyes so it doesn’t blind you. In one, two three!” You reach over and tap the lamp, screwing your eyes shut against the sudden glare as you tip yourself off the bed and onto the floor.

You hear muffled swearing, and peek over the edge of the bed as Soap launches himself at Nikolai’s giant, masked bodyguard, teeth bared in a terrible snarl.

You scramble up and run for the door. “John!” you shout, and then turn to help Soap, although you’re no fighter. You couldn’t just leave him to deal with the man alone.

Soap is growling fiercely, his teeth sunk deep into the man’s arm, but the giant has a knife in his other hand, already slick with blood. Soap’s fur is matted down around his ribs, stained rusty red.

You grab the giant’s other arm and hold on tight, digging in your heels to keep him from stabbing Soap again. He shakes him loose instead, throwing him by the scruff into the bookcase, breaking shelves with a splintery crash. He jerks his arm to shake you loose as well, and backhands you, sending you stumbling backward.

You catch a glimpse of blood-shot, malicious blue eyes through the holes in the giant’s mask, and then a huge hand grips you by the throat, cutting off your air. He raises the knife.

A dark shape hurtles into the room, and the giant lets you go with a pained shout. You land hard, breathless, and John grabs you, hauling you up and putting his broad body between you and the grisly scene that is surely unfolding behind him. The sound of a knife cutting into flesh, over and over and over, the giant begging for mercy until he fell silent.

It’s awful. Your stomach churns, but you manage to not throw up.

“Sweetpea, are you alright?” John asks, pulling your attention back to him, gripping your shoulders just a little too hard when you try to look around him again.

“I’m fine— Soap’s hurt.” You look for him and find him right where he’d been thrown, although he’s staggering up onto his paws now, blue eyes unfocused, blood still oozing from the wounds on his side. Shaking loose from John, you rush to his side, throwing your arms around his neck, pressing your face into his fur. He leans into you, somehow managing to lick your ear.

John kneels down beside you and places a hand on Soap’s flank. Blue light flares between his palm and Soap’s injury. “There we go. Good boy,” he says softly, patting Soap on the head as he stood up again. “Kept our girl safe.”

There’s a commotion in the hallway now, guards and servants and Kyle pushing their way into the room. You sneak a glance at Ghost. There’s a slash through his shirt-sleeve, and a cut dripping blood onto the floor, but he seems unhurt otherwise. The giant however— You take one look at the spreading pool of blood and the mess of blood and bone and press your face back into Soap’s ruff, shaking.

John picks you up and carries you across the hall to his study so that the guards can get into your room to deal with the body. You look at Ghost over John’s shoulder. “You’re hurt. Let John heal you.”

He shakes his head. “Waste of magic. I’ll be fine.”

“Will you let me clean it up at least?” you ask. “I don’t want it to get infected.”

He huffs. “Fine.”

John sets you down, but your legs don’t feel steady yet. You lean into him for support, glad for the warm, solid bulk of him. He holds you until you stop shaking, barking orders over your head.

You press your face into John’s shirt when Soap shifts back into Johnny, the sound of bone crunching and tendons snapping a bit too similar to the sound of Ghost turning the giant into a bloody mess. There’s some kerfuffle as someone brings tea and supplies for you to clean Ghost’s wound, and John finally lets you go so you can get to work.

You focus on washing away the blood and dabbing stinging antiseptic onto the cut as Knight Captain Keller steps into the study to report. “We’ve had the ambassador confined to his quarters,” he says. “You may question him at your leisure. Gaz is laying wards on the room to keep him from working some nasty Kastovian magics. Should I arrange extra security for the ceremony tomorrow? Or do you think it best to postpone.”

“Extra security. Thank you, captain. Did the giant survive?”

Alex snorts, and then glances at you, his expression a hair guilty. “Um, no sir. I doubt his own mother would recognize him now.”

Ghost flexes his hands. His knuckles are bloody, so you clean up that blood too. Once the door shuts behind the knight captain, he takes his shirt off to make it easier for you to bandage his arm. You try to keep your eyes from wandering over all his pale, marred skin. There’s so many scars that you can hardly bear to think of how much violence he’s endured.

“I don’t think Nikolai was behind this,” you say, glancing at John as he sits heavily in his chair, running a hand over his beard tiredly. “He has nothing to gain by killing me. I don’t believe he’s any great champion of my cousin’s.”

“Why do you say that?” John asks.

“He proposed to me earlier, and called Phillip an idiot— And with lands along the border, he would put his own territory at risk if there is another war. It’s more likely that the assassin was paid directly by my dear cousin.” You wind a length of clean linen around Ghost’s bicep, tying it tight.

“He proposed?” John asked, focusing on the wrong part of your words.

“Yes, but—”

“What did you say?”

You consider telling him that you know what he plans, but there’s something satisfying about making him sweat a little bit. “I’m not sure that’s any of your business.”

“I beg to differ. I’d like to know all the same.”

You meet his eyes evenly. “I turned him down.”

John takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly, looking relieved. “Good.”

Johnny huffs, staying uncharacteristically quiet. He looks worn out, the toll of shifting back and forth and his injury leaving him exhausted. He’s eaten everything on the plate someone brought up, leaving only crumbs.

You’re tired too. The shakes have finally subsided, leaving you with nothing, a candle burnt down to sputtering wax. “I’d like to go back to bed. I don’t suppose I can go back to my own room yet?”

John shakes his head. “It’ll take a little while to clean up. You can sleep in my bed. I’ll be up a while yet, I’ll find somewhere else for the night.”

You nod, and glance at Johnny. “Will you come with me?”

He nods, gulping down the last of his cup of tea. “Aye. Keep ye safe if anyone else tries anythin’ foolish.” He folds himself back into wolf shape while you say goodnight to John and Ghost.

They bid you goodnight as well, although there is some envy in their eyes as they watch you slip through the door into John’s room, Soap by your side.

Soap sniffs around the new space suspiciously, and only settles into the bed beside you once he’s satisfied that there’s nothing amiss, laying his head across your stomach, ears perked up, flicking around at every little noise. You tap the lamp and close your eyes, comforted by his vigilance and warm weight and the pillow that smells like John, warm spice and tobacco smoke.

You try not to think about anything else.

I'm so sorry this took 9 million years to post, I wrote it by hand in July and just did not type it. But the good news is that Chapter 6 is also written and I am dedicated to getting it done so expect that before the end of the month. I love you all, thank you so much for your patience.

Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 -

Divider by CafeKitsune - Flower Divider by Saradika-Graphics

[khunyuki]

"I've lived my life with blade and you always in my mind"

ꜱɪᴅᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ: 𝚊. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝

Synopsis: To Hoshina Soshiro, it was a feeling of love not at first sight but even before he met her, he knew he loved her. To Uzui Kagami, he was her hopes and dreams came true and learned to love him since. From childhood until adulthood, they've been together. Witness their romance from the past! A bond that can never be broken so easily for it is formed by the culmination of time.

Pairing/s: Soshiro Hoshina x Fiancee!OC

Notes: I am posting this first because I thought it would be better to show their good relationship first than the planned main story. Soshiro is down bad for his fiancee.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Childhood Sweethearts, School Romance

Masterlist: TOC, Next

One of the happiest days in Uzui Kagami's life was the day, she and Soshiro became engaged as children. During her earliest memories, she absolutely adored her parents' relationship and dreams to have the same once she got older. To her surprise, a visit to some place other than her house changed the trajectory of her life! Why? Because her dream has finally come true! At least half of it did.

From that moment onwards, she would often visit the Hoshina estate to train with them and be with her fiance. Poor Kagami was so shy that despite this being what she wanted, she couldn't even bring herself to come near him, satisfied with just watching him from afar.

Kagami would hide behind a pillar or a wall and watch the Hoshina brothers train, with her eyes on Soshiro and Soshiro only. She would admire his skills, his looks, his growth, and his persistence. Not that she could tell him that, she couldn't even be in the same room as him without clamming up.

For the first few weeks of introduction, she would gaze at him from afar until his older brother could no longer handle it. Soichiro-niisan dragged her out of her hiding spot like a wet kitten and placed her on the sidelines to observe closely. She tried to run away but ultimately failed from his tight grip.

"Kagami-chan, you don't have to peek from afar when you could just watch here"

Soichiro-niisan tried to smile softly in order to calm the girl he just dragged over. But all it did was to make her cower and fidget uncomfortable while looking down.

"Don't bully her, nii-san"

Soshiro, with his two bamboo swords, hit his brother with their swordstyle mercilessly.

"Ouch! Wait! Soshiro! I'm sorry so please stop already!"

Having been caught off guard with no weapons, Soichiro would've accept his hits if it didn't hurt so much. It was rare to see this side of his brother, after all.

Once he stopped, only then did Soshiro turn to look at Kagami. She had long since stopped cowering and was now admiring him. Was he her prince charming or her knight in shining armor? Maybe both, cause him saving her made her like him even more.

"You can just stay here and watch"

He said so coolly with much composure and returned to his training. Kagami could only blush, trying to hide how giddy she was feeling.

.

As a child, Hoshina Soshiro didn't bother to understand what his family were talking about if it wasn't related to training or kaijus. He would attempt, yes, but his young brain still isn't able to comprehend it well.

They said something about an engagement between him and someone he will meet that day. He doesn't mind if it's something his parents decide for him. Arranged marriages are common like his older brother who already has a fiancee too.

It truly dawned on him from the moment his eyes laid on a particular shy girl that just entered the room. She was hiding behind her father but would peek out several times. He could only catch glimpses of her but he could already feel the pounding of his heart.

It was weird. He never experienced such having his heart beating so fast when resting. Was it because she reminds him of a squirrel, so cute and fidgety? He didn't know but when their eyes met, it felt like arrow shot through his heart.

It was love at first sight.

Soshiro was blushing madly for the very first time and his older brother doesn't help at all with all his teasing. Maybe it was the commotion that his brother was making that set their engagement in stone.

Cause when Kagami looked up from her bow, he was already avoiding her eyes. Especially once he saw her hopeful face and sparkly eyes. It struck a critical hit to his heart.

From that moment onwards, he would see her around the estate. She would sometimes be training on the dojo or watch him and his brother train from afar. Whenever she's watching, he couldn't help but take glimpses of her causing him to be distracted and lose cue his older brother's teasing.

As much as he wanted to look cool, he couldn't really do it after losing to his brother, can he? The saving grace for him would be when his brother picked her up and put her down next to him. It annoyed him when he did so cause how could his brother touch his fiancee like that. Soshiro was able to look cool by 'defending' her from his brother.

Be that as it may, it was truly bad for his young heart to have her around him like this. How could he remain calm when she's been staring at him the whole time. If he did talk to her while looking at her face, he can't guarantee not stuttering in front of her.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 5~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

It didn't take long for the two of them to be close enough to feel comfortable with each other's presence. They could just sit on the porch without talking and they're already content with it. Occasionally, they would spar until it became a bonding moment just for the two of them.

Most of their progress was all thanks to Soichiro-niisan who decided that it was his duty to be as meddlesome as possible in his brother's lovelife. He, not only would egg on his little brother by calling him weak, but also tease him in front of his crush. It contributed to the explosive growth of Soshiro when his task is to keep his older brother's mouth shut tightly from embarrassment.

Soshiro would continue to lose over and over again but demands to have a rematch even if it meant having tantrums in front of Kagami. He knew he was losing face by doing so but he atleast wanted to look cool yet his brother kept denying him of that.

Much to Soichiro-niisan's surprise and pleasure, his taunts did not only work on his little brother but also his little sister-in-law. As clueless she may be, she could tell if the words being said were an insult to her fiancee. Kagami would bring out her meanest look and glare at her big brother-in-law.

During those times, Kagami would scold him for bullying his little brother and say that Soshiro is the best swordsman in the world despite being so young and he could beat him because he's always been working hard and putting in effort more than anyone else. It would only be at the end that she realizes that it was all a bait from the smirk on his face as he leave the two blushing figures alone.

It still took a while for them to be close enough to make eye contact with being a mess. But atleast they got to talk to each other as a result.

To Hoshina Soshiro, it was the beginning of something new.

To Uzui Kagami, it was the start of her dream come true.

It was the age of innocence where seeds have been planted, not knowing what kind of fruit it will bear.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 7~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Two years after their engagement, they were now a bit more mature yet still childish. They understand that they have duties to perform and live up to expectations of the adults. Such burdens, when introduced to children was a lot of pressure to say the least.

Soshiro acknowledging to himself that he is a reject compared to his perfect brother. Only his persistence to wield the sword was his salvation.

Kagami having to face countless trials not knowing that it might never end in the pursuit of perfection. In hopes of being acknowledged by her family despite her grief.

Just last year, Kagami's mother died along with her unborn baby brother. It was an unfortunate incident where a kaiju appeared near the hospital on the day of her checkup and they got caught in the aftermath. Ever since then, her father became a different person along with her other clan members.

The shift in the atmosphere was so obvious that even Kagami, as dense as she is, could feel it. She was restricted from visiting the Hoshina estate in order to prepare herself as the sole heir to the head of the clan. Many times she wished to run away but she couldn't do so because whenever she got caught, more punishment would just await her.

Her solace was when the Hoshinas would come to visit. They would dress her up and tell her to smile and act like nothing happened to not disgrace her family any further. In which, she does so without question cause just meeting her fiancee was enough for her.

Soshiro felt a pleasant surprise with how Kagami welcomed him to her home with much excitement but maybe that was just him missing her as it has been a long time since they last met each other.

As they were given the time to be alone, he knew that it was an act shown to the people around them. Only with him does she show her real face, as does he. Their comfort is with each other, comrades in their struggles at their young age.

In the place where Hoshina Soshiro believes that he is a reject, to Uzui Kagami he is perfect just the way he is.

In the place where Uzui Kagami has to be perfect in every way, to Hoshina Soshiro her imperfections are part of her charms.

The seeds have been nurtured and sprouted, taking root into the deepest pits of their hearts.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 13~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Middle school is the place where young teens start to experience such things called hormones. Spring is the moment of encounters but it is also the season of love.

Kagami doesn't think that being in middle school would change anything as it is just a small part of her life. She didn't think it was as important as her life back at home. That's what she try to tell herself because it's been over a year and she never had any friends yet.

It doesn't matter does it, she thought. But in reality, she blames her shy personality and being an introvert for making her lose out on things. Her pessimistic attitude doesn't help as it only makes things worse.

Hormones were the worst thing ever as it developed her body in the most uncomfortable ways like the sudden growth of her chest and the hellish pain of losing blood on a monthly basis. It also messes up her mind by giving her complicated thoughts and the sudden influx of emotions was enough to make her crazy as she has to act like nothing is happening.

There was one thing she believes in though. Love. It was something she already experienced herself and will continue to do so in the future. This age only gives her fantasies of what she wants their relationship to be like if she gets the courage to make a move.

"What are you thinking to make you smile like that?"

Soshiro asked as he long put down his book in order to observe her. Since when? She didn't know but being caught in the act itself was enough to make her feel embarrassed.

"I-It's nothing!"

While she tried to cover her face with the book on her hands, Soshiro pretended to think by placing his thumb and index finger on his chin before he revealed a mischievous grin.

"Were you... Thinking about me? Even though I'm right in front of you?"

Hoshina Soshiro struck a homerun! If only the ground could swallow her whole so that she could hide, but there is no hole to hide inside the library. She had to settle with pressing the book closer to her face as that's the only way she could hide.

"You're so cute~"

Soshiro chuckled with his eyes open as she fidgets around and didn't know what to do. Can a human being possibly melt? Cause she's combusting so much she could melt.

"Please stop teasing me"

She let go of her book and buried her face in her arms on the table to hide her burning face. It was a futile attempt as she was already caught but she still did it anyways. At least let her keep her dignity!

She could hear him getting up from his seat and sitting beside her. His fingers brushing her hair and tucking it behind her burning ears.

"It's true though"

He paused and she couldn't help but take a peek at the rustling beside her. He was in the same position as hers yet peeking at her with his eyes open, showing that soft and sweet smile that is exclusively for her eyes only. Maintaining eye contact to show the seriousness of his words.

"For me, you're the prettiest girl in the entire world"

Uzui Kagami.exe has stopped working.

Hoshina Soshiro.exe has also stopped working.

Thank goodness it was only the two of them in the library at this hour, otherwise, it would be the listeners who dies at second-hand embarrassment from their flirting.

The buds of youth quivers at its desire to bloom.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 15~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Hoshina Soshiro has made it a habit to tease his fiancee whenever possible. He couldn't help it when her reactions are so cute and amusing. He feels proud to being the only one with the right to see her like that.

He often smirks and act smug in front of his classmates and the other boys in their school, those he clearly knew has a blatant crush on his fiancee. Sometimes he wishes that she knows just how popular she is so she could feel confident in herself but at the same time he's glad she doesn't know.

It was always clear as day that she favors him more than any other, to him and to the people around them. To others, she would grace a polite smile and only answer their questions professionally. With him, she would laugh at his jokes and engage in conversations. Showing off that sweet smile that captivates anyone who sees it, including Soshiro.

Soshiro didn't know how many times he had to control himself from glomping at her and keeping her by his side, somewhere only he can see. The same smile that critically hit his heart on the first day they met continues to do so every single day, each time getting more powerful.

When he reminisces on their first meeting to now, he could see the improvement on their relationship for they had grown closer than before. If in the future, they continue to be together while working and get married then have kids---.

Stop! He's getting ahead of himself when they hadn't even hold hands yet... Wait... They haven't hold hands yet?

"Soshiro? Soshiro! Are you okay? You suddenly slapped yourself"

Asked Kagami with eyes filled with concern at his unexpected actions, not knowing she was the cause of it.

"It was nothing"

"Eh? Are you sure? That looks painful though"

She lifted her arm so her hand could touch the growing bruise on his cheeks. The feeling of her fingers gingerly touching his cheeks like it was something fragile and precious felt like static so he winced.

"It is painful! Come on, let's go to the infirmary to dress it okay?"

She immediately held his hand like it was a natural thing to do and dragged him to the infirmary. Soshiro felt stupid at his earlier thought. Who said they haven't hold hands yet? They were doing it now, weren't they?

Still, he hopes she doesn't turn around to look at him so she wouldn't see just how red his face is.

Since then, Soshiro keeps making excuses to touch her hand. He doesn't need to since she'll gladly let him do so anytime.

You must give it sufficient nutrients in order to bloom.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 18~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Ever since they were children, they've been training hard to join the defense force as their ultimate goal. To slay kaijus, serve their country, and make their family proud.

<Defense Force Screening Exam Part 2 Venue>

After passing the written exams, Uzui Kagami and Hoshina Soshiro are confident in their abilities to pass the second part of the exams as well.

"Are you nervous?"

Soshiro asked the girl beside him as they stand in front of the venue, squeezing her hand in comfort.

"Just a little bit"

Kagami placed her free hand on her chest, not only was she nervous of the exams but also the thought of encountering new people.

"Me too. But we've been working hard for this for a very long time, haven't we?"

Soshiro despite being nervous himself cheered her up. In doing so, cleared both his and her worries.

"You're right"

Giving one last squeeze on each other's hands, they walked inside and took the test.

.

The two of them settled inside a cafe as they revealed the envelopes that will change their lives.

"Somehow, i'm getting nervous that my hands are shaking"

Kagami said as she attempted to stop her shaking, the tension was making her hands clammy and sweaty.

"Do you want to open it now?"

Soshiro was calm, seeing her this fussy once more felt like his nervousness was transferred to her instead of him. He felt guilty but still thinks she was cute like this.

"No matter the outcome, i'll still be proud of you"

He tried to comfort her with his words though it somehow only deepened her frown.

"I can't have that. We have to pass together"

With deep concentration, she took her envelope in her hands and opened it. Though struck by her resolve, he could only smile and shake his head, copying her actions.

Uzui Kagami/Hoshina Soshiro, as a result of you satisfactory performance, you have PASSED the exam.

A moment of silence before...

"We did it! We passed!"

With a rare outburst of joy, Kagami hurriedly moved out her seat to his and tackled him with a hug. Soshiro was expecting them to both pass but it truly does bring him joy when she expresses her happiness so well.

It was one of the rare instances that he sees of her initiating things. And he was indulging in it.

"Let's celebrate this occasion with some Mont Blanc and coffee"

Kagami called for the waiter and gave their orders. At the same time, she went back to her seat after recovering from her high. It felt like they could hear each other's thoughts as they both bowed to each other.

"Let's continue to work together from now on. Please take care of me"

Rewarding their hard work and efforts, the flower finally bloomed.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~Early 20's~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Kagami and Soshiro joined the same division and stayed there together, having only each other's backs. It wasn't without struggle for them as they both specialize in sword slaying. Kagami was more flexible of the two as her precision and accuracy was better in long distance range so she could easily pick up a gun, but still she prefers to use swords if she could.

On one particular day, she heard her fellow officers making fun of her and her fiancee. It would've been fine if they were insulting her only but they also had to insult him. She was usually calm and quiet, preferring to keep to herself but she would never let anyone who insults Soshiro continue to yap their mouths.

"Please take that back! Soshiro-san has been working hard this entire time and putting in double the effort more than anyone else! If you give him a chance, you will understand that he can shine even brighter when he uses his swordsmanship!"

Hoshina Soshiro wonders why there was a crowd forming just outside the training room, until he heard a familiar voice inside of it. That voice, usually so calm and quiet to the point of whisper, was loud enough to pique the attentions of passersby. It wasn't only her uncharacteristic outburst that was eye-catching but also the words she's saying were. For it was filled with praises for him.

Once Soshiro realized that he was the topic of the conversation, he felt shy but he wanted to stop her even more. He doesn't want her to fight their fellow officers nor does he want her to get scolded by their superiors.

After wrestling his way through the crowd, he finally dragged her away, offering apologies on her behalf. Even if they did deserve the scolding they received from her, and doesn't really want to apologize to them, he had to do so out of courtesy.

Once he got her away to somewhere private, she was still quite upset, eyes glistening with unshed tears. She refused to look at his face and look down.

"I appreciate you defending me, Kagami. However, it's not like you to be that angry"

Soshiro urges her to look at him, to stare at his eyes by placing his hands on her cheeks. Once she look up, he could see the sad expression on her face. She was sad for him.

"They went too far. They don't know how great of a person you are. You're the best when it comes to close combat and slaying small kaijus, you could eliminate more than any of them could yet they still..."

"Thank you"

He wanted her to say more but her current state wouldn't let her. She was a bawling mess in his hands as he wipes away her tears. It was her first time crying in front of him yet he felt happy. All because she was thinking of him, all of it was for his sake and never yours.

The truth is, he was so incredibly touched by his fiancee's actions. It almost moved him to tears himself. Everyone wanted him to stop, his superiors and his family, yet she hopes that he could keep going. She pushes him to do what he loves despite people saying otherwise.

If they weren't at work right now, or if they were somewhere more private than the place he chose, he would've kissed her on the lips. He just settled for the forehead instead then he hugs her while patting her head. He whispered once again.

"Thank you"

The little flower happily showers in the rain filled with love.

<- Table of Contents Next ->

[birchleavesdawn]

can I ask for prefect oc giving reward for his vice prefect/gf (any female idol you want, but I want Jihan if you could) due to their excellent performance keeping the school free from problems

(Btw, the reward is very naughty with ends with something white inside her nether region)

Weeekly Jihan - Teacher's Pet

Hope you enjoy anon Weeekly Jihan x m!reader —————————————————————————- "No running in the halls! Two feet between you at all times. No PDA! You there — I said slowdown!"

Her voice rang out through the halls and could be heard from almost anywhere in the building. It was music to your ears, your favorite student keeping all the misfits in line. Sadly for you, that would soon be coming to an end. Jihan was in her last year of Highschool, and pretty soon, she would be moving on. Jihan was the school's prefect and was the one to greet you when you first arrived. You didn't want her to go. The thought of her not being there next year made you depressed, but there was nothing you could do. You just had to make sure that wherever she went, she would never forget you.

Now standing in your classroom door, you called her over.

"Jihan! Come here for a sec!"

She turned to face you and smiled. Jihan had such a beautiful smile that made your heart melt every time you were graced by its presence.

"Good morning sir. What did you need?"

Being called sir still felt a little strange. You were only a year older than her and even held the role of prefect at your school the year prior. You weren't sure if being teacher's assistant was really worthy of such an honorific, but you liked hearing it all the same.

"I need you to stop by my room at the end of the day. I have a class now in a few minutes, but I have a sort of going away present for you. Make sure you come alone, I didn't get one for anyone else and I don't want to get in trouble for giving you special treatment."

"Yes, of course! Thank you sir. I'm really looking forward to it!"

"It's my pleasure, believe me. I'll see you at the end of the day."

"See you then!"

With that, Jihan headed down the hall to whatever class she had now. You couldn't help but watch as she walked away. Her ass was so plump and round, bouncing with each step. You wished you could reach out, grab her by the hips, pull her onto your desk and fuck her brains out In front of everyone. She'd probably be even more into it than you, getting the chance to show everyone she really was your favorite. However, if everything went to plan, it wouldn't be long until you had your chance.

RING RING

The bell rang out to signal the end of the day. Students began to pour out of the classrooms and into the hallways. The sounds of loud voices and slamming lockers filled the building. After a few minutes you heard a quiet knock at your door.

"Come in!" You yelled out at the sound of it opening.

"Hey, it's me, I'm here like you asked." Jihan spoke softly, closing the door behind her.

"I'm so glad you could make it. Come take a seat."

You smiled and pointed to a chair right in front of your desk.

"So, before I give you your gift, I want to hear your plans for after high school. I'm curious to see where you're going."

"Well, I'm planning to go to the same college that my dad went to, it's a good one with a good scholarship program, so it should be cheap enough for me."

"That's great! Are you planning on dorming or are you living at home?"

"I'll be staying at home. The school is only about a 45 minute drive from my house. It will be a little annoying to have to drive every day, but it will be so much cheaper I think I'll manage just fine."

"Oh so you'll be sticking around? Well I really am glad to hear that."

Jihan flashed that smile you loved so much.

"Now, for your gift."

You handed her a small baby blue box with red tissue paper peeking out the sides.

"Thank you so much! The box is so pretty! Can I open it now?"

"Yes of course! I'd be terribly disappointed if you didn't."

She opened the box and peered inside. A black strapless crop top with a matching pleated skirt. She held up the top to get a better look. You could tell from the expression on her face that she genuinely loved it.

"Oh my god it's so cute! Thank you so much! You really didn't have to get me all this though, it seems like too much."

"You're my favorite student, and I'm going to miss having you around. When I arrived here in January, you made my life so much easier. Plus you did such a great job keeping the school running well. So, I wanted to do something nice for you. Truthfully though, it wasn't entirely for unselfish reasons. Why don't you try it on and see if it fits ok?"

"Here, right now!?" Jihan's face went beet red.

"I'd love to see how it looks on you."

She looked around the room and then back at the clothes.

"I suppose... Just don't laugh. Promise me."

"Of course, I wouldn't dare."

"Ok, turn around so I can change."

You turned your back to Jihan and walked over to lock the door. You waited there patiently until you heard the sound of clothes rustling and her footsteps coming toward you.

"Ok, it's on."

You turned back around and couldn't help but stare. It fit perfectly. She was stunning.

"What do you think?"

"I think... I've never seen something so beautiful"

Jihan giggled and you could see her cheeks turning red once again.

You grabbed her and pulled her close to you.

"You really are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I've been trying to hold myself back, but I can't do it any longer."

You kissed her, deeply and passionately. Your hands roamed her body, grabbing and touching every inch of her that you could reach.

"Mmmmph! Ah! Sir!"

You picked her up and carried her to your desk, making sure to give her plump cheeks a proper squeeze on the way. You laid her on her back and slowly pulled the skirt you had just given her back off, revealing the sexiest pair of panties that were already stained by her juices.

"What kind of dirty girl wears panties like this to school? Were you hoping for something like this today?"

You had to take a second to admire the sight of her, lying in her underwear, waiting for you to take her. Her beautifully toned midriff on full display just begging for your attention. You walked around the desk to her side and reached your hand into her panties, feeling the soaking warmth of her folds. You took the opportunity to give that midriff the love it deserved, slowly running your tongue from her belly button to the bottom of her top. You could feel her shiver as she let out a moan, her desperation getting stronger.

You slipped two fingers into her entrance while sucking on her belly button. You curled your fingers in a "come here" motion, hitting that special spot deep within her. She gasped loudly and dug her fingers into your arm. You could feel the heat and wetness in her panties intensifying. She was so close. You could feel her tightening and her legs beginning to shake. Just a little more, and she would be putty in your hands. You kept the pace, continuing to leave kisses on her perfect tummy, while slamming into her g spot again and again. Her juices dripping down your hand.

"I'm, oh my god. Oh god I'm so close. I'm gonna cum."

"Then cum for me, let it all out."

A few more thrusts and she was done. Her juices coated your arm, your desk and the floor below. She was panting heavily and her whole body was shaking. She laid there, briefly unable to move.

"Wow, I, I'm sorry, that's never happened to me when I do it myself. I didn't expect it to feel that good." Jihan said, still panting.

"If you can still form a sentence, then clearly, we aren't finished yet."

You pulled her off the desk and bent her over. Pulling down those soaked panties and exposing her gorgeous ass. You gave her left cheek a light smack before pulling down your own pants. Your cock sprang free and stood at attention, fully erect and ready to ravage her. You lined your head up with her entrance and pushed your way in. Her tight cunt squeezed your member.

"Ah, mmmgh, yes, fuck me."

Her voice was strained. Her moans and grunts filled the room. Her ass bounced with each thrust and her legs were shaking. Her knees were threatening to give out, but you weren't done with her just yet. She had been holding back this whole time.

"I want to hear you scream, Jihan. Tell the whole school what's happening. Scream."

"Yes! Oh god yes!"

You grabbed her by the hips and rammed yourself into her. Her juices flowing freely down her legs. Her pussy squeezing and sucking on your cock. The walls of the classroom seemed to shake with the force of your thrusts. Jihan screamed and cried out. Her legs finally giving way and leaving her suspended by your strength alone.

"Don't stop! I'm cumming again!"

"I'm close too, so cum with me. Let me hear you."

Your thrusts became more erratic. Her voice grew louder, the sounds of her moans and screams echoing in your mind. With one final thrust, you slammed into her deepest part. You released yourself, coating her walls with your seed. Jihan's whole body tensed, and she screamed as she came for the second time. You both stayed like that, for a couple of minutes, panting and recovering. You were the first to speak.

"Are you ok, Jihan?"

"Yeah, just a little sore."

"Do you want to sit down for a bit?"

"Please."

You sat on the edge of your desk and pulled her down into your lap. She leaned back against your chest and put her head under your chin. You wrapped your arms around her and held her tight.

"You know as much as I love that top on you, It's really about time it came off."

You pulled the shirt off of her and tossed it aside. Your hands finding their way to her breasts. They were soft and supple, and fit perfectly in your hands.

"God you're so beautiful." You whispered softly in her ear.

She let out a soft moan and melted into your touch. You continued to caress her perfect tits. Rolling her nipples between your fingers and kissing her neck. She squirmed and moaned in your lap.

"That's a good girl. Tell me what you want."

"I'm ready to go again sir."

"I don't think you're gonna be able to refer to me as sir anymore after today."

"But you're the teacher."

"Doesn't mean you can't call me sir while we fuck. I love the idea of being called sir while I'm fucking a student, especially one as cute as you."

"Yes sir."

You lifted her up slightly, just enough to allow room to slip your cock back inside. You lowered her back down and started to move. Slow and steady thrusts, allowing you to savor every movement and the feeling of her tight pussy wrapped around you.

"You're such a good girl. Taking my cock so well."

You reached a hand down to rub her clit while the other massaged her breasts. She let out a loud moan.

"Oh, fuck, yes, sir."

"You like being told what a good girl you are?"

"Yes sir. I'm your good girl."

"That's right. My good little slut. And I'm gonna make sure everyone knows who you belong to."

You thrust your hips upwards. Increasing the speed and force of your movements. Her moans were growing louder, the room was once again filled with the sounds of her voice. Her juices flowed freely, dripping down your shaft and coating your thighs. Her pussy squeezed your cock.

"Fuck, you're so tight. Your cunt feels amazing."

You could feel yourself getting closer. Her body shook. Her muscles tensed. She was close as well.

"Cum for me, Jihan."

"Oh god yes! Fuck, fuck, ah, sir!"

She screamed as she came, her pussy contracting around you. Her body spasmed and she writhed in your arms. Her screams of ecstasy sent you over the edge.

"Fuck, Jihan!"

You thrust into her one last time. Buried to the hilt, and shot rope after rope of your seed inside her. You both sat there, panting and sweating, trying to catch your breath.

Jihan was struggling to speak. "That was amazing. I'm not sure if I can move. I definitely don't think I can stand right now."

"Just stay here like this for a while. Savor the moment."

You pulled out of her, and watched as your cum slowly leaked from her.

"As much as I'd love to stay here forever, you should get dressed. I don't want anyone else seeing you like this. Especially not another teacher.

"Of course, sir."

You helped her get cleaned up and dressed. Once she was decent, you took her in your arms and gave her a deep kiss.

I hope you can still come visit me after you leave for college. If you ever need some tutoring or even just help de-stressing, you know where to find me. 

[maraudersidk]

Female percy weasley (persephone) is so good like trust guys.

THE DEPTH OF HER AND GINNYS RELATIONSHIP. Like its giving girl, so confusing.

Also her and molly because mother daughter relationships are heartbreaking.(that one scene from ladybird, the whole movie actually)

HER WANTING TO BE MINISTER OF MAGIC AS A WOMAN!!!!LIKE THE ANGST

Everything is better when its women. They make me sick.

ALSO HER AND OLIVER WOULD BE THE GIRL AND BOY PREFECTS😝😝😝. Like ok i see u. Rendezvous during their rounds 100%.

Also oliver would be prefect cuz he would be the only male gryffindor.

Also her leaving and having the fight with arthur would be 10x more angsty cuz thats his baby girl like she was his first daughter and she definitely was a daddys girl growing up-she wanted to work in the ministry and her dad alr did so.

Also i made up a gc that prefects and head girl/boys get their own private dorms and it has a little common room and her and oliver would sit there at night and talk (make out)

ALSO this is alr my hcs for male percy i just wanna clarify cuz it feels like if i dokt im making her into an object between them all but:

her and marcus having a cute little relationship in fourth year cuz she was tutoring him, him being nicer to oliver off the pitch cuz she asked, oliver watching them and trying to not let his jealousy show. Marcus being perse's first friend other than oliver (who she thought only hung out with her for charlie or because of her notes) him showing her how amazing and smart she really is and fighting any slytherins who made comments abt her hair or looks or clothes. Marcus building up her confidence🤍.

Them breaking up in fifth year (it was mutual no bad blood they're besties) she starts talking to a hufflpuff named daniel (OC) him being a prefect so oliver always has to deal with his presence and be hates it because as much as he tries he can't hate him because hes just so nice. Daniel noticing how oliver looks at her and seeing how she looks at oliver (she didnt realize yet) Daniel giving little hints to help her see her feelings. Him comforting her and being so understanding when she does.

THEN SIXTH YEAR HAPPENS *this one's a doozy* perse was planning on talling oliver her feelings at the beginning of the year (after about 100 letters from marcus and daniel hyping her up - marcus threatening to beat him up and daniel sayung she should get chocolates). BUT when she was about to talk to him when they got bsck to school she sees oliver accepting a date from a girl named Sophie (sephie-sophie, see what i did there) in the year below, her running away and ignoring oliver for as long as she can. Perse befriending roger davies and they decide on a no strings attached (daniel did not approve, marcus found it hilarious and asked to join). Oliver goes ok the date but ends up rambling about perse for most of it ("shes so smart", "her hair is so pretty", "shes so helpful with my quidditch plays") sophie trying to ignore it until she can't and confronts him about it at the end of the date. Oliver apologies like crazy and end up spilling the past six years to sophie (shes too nice for her own good). They end uo with a weird tension between them up until right before Christmas break they make up and give each other gifts (no confession yet). Atp roger is just perse's theapist and gives her advice while they slack off on rounds to sneak to the kitchen. Near the end of the year the stress of exams and just generally everything that happened that year and penny (roger introduced penny and perce and they're THAT duo) they end up blowing up on each other and cue angry love confession.

I don't have all of this thought out but this was a very very summurised version of what happened (theres sm more angst for perce😁) this was supposed to be a trans perce psot but turned into perciver. What can is say guys they have me in a chokehold.

I might talk more about this cuz shes consuming me and she's so me. Sorry for the rant🤷🏻‍♀️

[maxwell-grant]

im researching Scarecrow hench-people and the DC wiki is really unhelpful, can you give me a list of a few notable ones. Also who's this Autumn from the Audio Adventures people keep mentioning. Is she a canon character or is she an OC

thank you! also loved the list you did of your favorite hench people

Thank you! Now that you mention it, it does seem like Scarecrow's kinda lacking in terms of notable henchmen, even purely in terms of visually distinct one-offs. It might have something to do with how little he's been traditionally focused on crime and coalition building, per se, and more so on lone terrorist campaigns and experimentation. Besides Scream Queen, who I already went into in the other post, these are the ones that I can think of:

Autumn / Miss Autumn is canon to TBAA, she just never showed up in the show. We hear about her in S1 via two scenes where Miss Tuesday talks about her friend in Scarecrow's gang, another villain assistant named Autumn that she always texts with and coordinates with, and then later she'd appear in issue #6 of the Audio Adventures comic, kidnapping Dick while he's disguised as a Burma Shave Boy and bringing him over to the Scarecrow as part of his plan. She claims to be a scullery maid in charge of the "kitchen" and is instructed by Crane to prepare a new batch, and Dick finds an Arkham Asylum physician's clearence and security badge that might belong to her, given Miss Tuesday in the show claims to have grown up in Arkham and the two seeming to be fairly close friends.

The Audio Adventures Special prequel comic released along with S2 also showed that, along with his biker gang to peddle in the street, he employs dealers hidden in plain sight such as the elderly librarian Mrs.Elliot, who we don't get to know much more about other than her being known by Dick and his friends, and a willing enthusiastic participant in the Scarecrow's plans to sell drugs to kids, as well as kidnap and experiment on them.

In terms of notable henchmen I think the first one he ever got were the Strawmen from Batman #296: said to be named Otto and Raymond, former students of his who've joined him and became students of the Scarecrow, serving as the muscle to his operation.

There's Linda Frittawa / Fright, introduced in a Judd Winick arc by the name of "As the Crow Flies", who became his assistant and confidant, while secretly manipulating him under a deal she made with the Penguin. She's the one who turned Scarecrow into the Scarebeast, and eventually showed up later working for Jeremiah Arkham Black Mask.

Not quite a henchwoman per se but there is a character named Haunter who showed up in the 2017 Batman (vol.3) annual, who's able to kill people with her DNA and who coordinates a small-scale fear gas with Jonathan to make her escape from Arkham, and it's said the two had a "twisted mutual admiration thing" before Batman put her away. She's only made two appearences in total, in two anthology shorts penned by her creator Scott Bryan Wilson, and I'm including her because given her name and gimmick and lack of prominence, she might as well be a Scarecrow henchwoman or partner or extension of his deal.

There's a fairly long pattern of Scarecrow being responsible for the creation of new villains with his experiments even if they don't necessarily go on to become henchmen - Madame Crow from Tynion's run was a former student who was tortured with fear toxin for months and took over a year to recover, before embarking on her own fear toxin campaigns. Colin Wilkes from Streets of Gotham was an abused orphan kidnapped by Scarecrow and given Venom injections before being ordered to attack Batman, and who was freed and became a hero. The Gotham Knight movie states that this version of Killer Croc was experimented on by Jonathan Crane, who caused his condition to worsen and seems to have kept him around a sewer hideout as an attack dog. The Titans show had him behind the resurrection of Jason Todd and his transformation into Red Hood, and Gotham had him create the show's version of Joker Toxin that kicks off Jeremiah Valeska's transformation.

And finally, we'd be remiss not to mention that a couple of times in his older appearences he's had a pet raven named Nightmare, a concept that's come up again in more recent kid-friendly books where it's named Croward instead, who assisted him in his criminal endeavors. I suppose that raven evidently doesn't make too much sense given Crane's backstory revolving around the crow trauma inflicted on him by his grandmother, or that trained birds are still very much Penguin territory in spite of him never using them anymore, or it clashing too much with the darker tone and vibe he's supposed to have, but there's a self-evident charm to the scarecrow-themed villain having a pet raven circling him.

[zephyrrr101]

Take me away

Pairing: Robert Baratheon x Named Targ OC

TW: Abusive words, Harrasment, Talk of murder, Robert Baratheon being an angry chihuahua, all the ASOIAF world warning.

Part Two

Cries echoed in the silent halls of Red Keep. Ned Stark frowned at the new sound that had tore through the almost deafening quietness. He turned to look at his companions in the throne room.

His friend, now King Robert Baratheon sat at the Iron Throne.

The same throne that sat many Targaryen kings on it. The same Targaryens that the now King had swore upon killing. Each and everyone.

He did not agree with his friend on this.

Rhaegar Targaryen had taken his sister.

Aeyrs Targaryen had killed his father and brother.

He had felt the fire of vengeance run through him until they were alive but it was quelled the moment he met his dying sister.

And then he had felt disappointed and regretful.

Thousand people lost. Innocents put to sword.

The only good thing he thought came out of it was the end of the Mad King, albeit he didn't like the way he was killed by the Lannister White Knight, but still was a relief.

Another cry shook him out of his thoughts, now much louder, and he then turned to Jon Arryn, his mentor and now the Hand of the King. "What is this? Who is it?"

Jon Arryn did not answer. Even he wasn't sure what was happening. It was clear from the confused look on his face.

His eyes then found that of the new Commander of Kingsguard, Ser Barristan. He looked terrified at the best. He could not think of what could leave the man such as him so struck with fear.

The door of the Throne Room opened.

Now he understood Ser Barristan's horror.

Stannis Baratheon, King Robert's younger brother, marched in. His arms wrapped around silver tresses, he much more of dragged the woman he had come to know as Princess Alyssanne, cries leaving her mouth along with words of pleads to let her go.

What in the name of Gods' was happening?

Stannis came closer to the steps of the throne and pushed the silver haired princess to the floor, left of mercy of all the men in the room.

"What is the meaning of this?" Ned asked and he quickly moved over to the princess.

Her hair dishevelled, her dress dirty and almost seemed to falling off her shoulders. He did the quick work of pulling his cloak off him and covered the princess. Her eyes raised from the ground to meet his. Purple eyes filled with tears and her cheek wet and red.

"The boy escaped with the new born girl," Stannis started, "the Queen was dead. We only got in time to capture her. Dragonstone is ours."

"And you this needed you to drag a woman in such state?" Ned glared Stannis. He had known him almost as long as he knew Robert. He was like his own brother too. But this man he did not recognise.

Stannis opened his mouth, anger surging in his blood. But before any words could leave him, Robert yelled at the top of lungs. "What do you mean they escaped?! What else did I sent you there for!"

Stannis looked at his brother in shock. How could he even say such thing. "It was not in my hand! Willem Darry looked as if he had it already planned. He quicked the younger ones out. It was fortunate we could capture her!"

"You could have gotten there faster! I sent you there to killed them all! Not to bring the bitch back!" He glared at his brother for a moment before his anger took it's turn to Alyssanne. "Where did they go? Where did those runts run off to!"

Alyssanne flinched seeing him stand. Robert was always a tall man with broad shoulders. It intimidated anyone who didn't know him dearly. And not know him, the princess did. She whispered out some words in terror, her hold on the grey cloak of Stark was deathly. And Robert roared his question again, making her crawl a little back.

"I don't know! Please! Robert, we are kin!" She cried out, her voice broken from screaming some moments before.

"Kin? Kin! You are no kin of mine!" Robert sneered, "I'll find each and every one of your filthy white haired bastard and kill them just like I killed that son of whore of your brother! Just like I'll kill you!"

"No! Please! Robert!" Ned had never quite seen any woman in such a distress. He didn't even know what he was to do. "They are but children! Please just... Let them be. Let me go. I will find them and make sure we never return to Westros. I swear it! Please!"

"Let you go!" Robert looked disgusted at the thought, he started treading down the stairs, "You want me to—"

Ned stepped in Robert's way just when he was about a few steps away from Alyssanne and he caught Ser Barristan beside him. The princess had started fo move behind, draging herself back, trying to make distance between the enraged man.

"You grace, despite your anger she is your kin. An honourable man and king does not harm their kin or a woman," Ser Barristan said, trying to stop the enraged man to get his hands on the princess.

"Robert, she is a woman, a lady," Ned glared at his friend and Robert for a moment calmed.

For a moment they were not in the Throne Room of Red Keep but in Vale, fighting boys who tried to pick a fight with them.

Jon Arryn mean while had too moved. He approached the princess as one would a frighted and injured predator, who was actually contemplating the last moments of their life. He helped the princess get up, he eyes moving warily around, it didn't take anyone to be too wise to see the distance she tried to keep from Stannis and his men.

"Let us talk about this after tempers have cooled." Jon said. And he could say everyone agreed, even the Baratheon's, reluctantly, but they did.

Alyssanne had not slept for even a second in the following night. And it was not an understatement.

She had been far too worried about what was happening. From what she could tell, there was a storm forming across the Blackwater Bay which was streched all over the Narrow sea she could see from her room.

Yes, her room.

Jon Arryn had done her the courtesy of letting her be in her room. Something about finding calmness in familiarity.

She could bet whatever she had that she would never find calmness ever again.

She could not get her mind off anything. Her worry for her little brother and sister who had sailed just a day before. A storm on their flight would not do them good, specially the baby Daenerys, what her mother had named the babe with her dying breath.

Alyssanne had promised her mother to protect Viserys and Daenerys. How was she supposed to keep them safe, protect them when she was locked in the highest floor of the Maegor's Holdfast. Curse her father for giving her this room. What the hell was that mad man thinking! What was Rhaegar thinking? What was anyone thinking?

Another reason for sleep fleeing her was fear for her own life. She trusted Ser Barristan posted outside her room. The man had been their when she was born and had seen her grow up. Seven Hells, he was the one who had sent for her mother when she had her first moon blood. But even after all that, she could not sleep. Ser Barristan may have been another father figure in her life after Rhaegar, he was still a man who followed his King's command. And unfortunately, her cousin who was hell bent on having all of her family annihilated, including herself. Her father's Kingsguard had drawn the sword through his chest. Her father may be been the most horrible man to breath but she would not trust anyone now. Specially now.

"Princess," She flinched at the slight graze at her hand shuffling away on the opposite side on her bed. Alyssanne blinked, her wide eyes found a terrified woman standing across her.

"Princess... I—we are here to bathe you," The maid said. Yes, a maid, it was only a maid, Alyssanne sighed and looked around the room, there were three more women, all of them older than her, two bringing hot water in one putting a dress on the dressing screen and the last one was the one who had scared her.

"Yes, yes," she nodded and got off the bed hesitantly. None of the women seemed familiar. She was sure they didn't work here.

The maid who had scared her made a quick work of taking off her dress, if there was much left of it. There had not much left of her clothes in her room when she had tried to look in her dressers.

She wasn't even sure what happened in King's Landing. All her mother had told her was that her father, good sister, niece and nephew were dead and had then crowned Viserys King in Dragonstone. Now she was starting to wonder if asking for details may have been a good idea.

Why do good ideas never come at the right time?

Alyssanne couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief as she put her leg in the hot water. She could thank whoever had to the maids to have the water almost boiling hot. Her skin tingled as warmth started to seep in her body. It almost felt like she was back in time when nothing was wrong. That her mother would be bringing Viserys in her room to spend time with, Elia following her with little Rhaenys and Aegon.

Alyssanne sighed, biting her lip as she let the maids wash her. She had to control herself. Her eyes cautiously moved around her. Even when the maids were just doing their jobs. She couldn't let her guard down.

She sent a prayer to whatever Gods would listen her. Please keep my little brother and sister safe. She whispered. Keep them out of Robert's reach, please.

[covetyou]

homecoming

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist part one ⋆ part two ⋆ part three

pairing: cuck!Joel x f!reader, brief M!OC x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: cuckolding, daddy kink, protected and unprotected PIV, creampie, cum kink, pet names, ddlg vibes, questionable text message formatting word count: 3.8k summary: you follow through with plans to see Andrew for the first time

A/N: cuck!Joel was only ever going to consist of oneshots, but now this is a three part intro to cuck!Joel and Andrew.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

He felt like he was making some kind of illicit deal, hanging around the parking lot waiting for people to file out at the end of the day. In a way, he was.

"Hey buddy! Wait up."

It had been as simple as that to stop him. A little small talk here, a little work talk there. Never one for elegance, Joel quickly cut to the chase. "I saw you looking at my girl on Friday."

Andrew startles, nervously rattling his car keys in his hand. There was no denying it, he wasn't stupid enough to even try. He knew he'd been too obvious. And he knew a man the size of Joel could easily deck him if he wanted to.

"She... I- I'm sorry, man, she looked amazing. I promise, meant nothing by it."

Tell Joel something he didn't know. "Look, I'll keep this simple. I'm out of town next weekend, she'd like it if you kept her company."

Keys drop to the gravel below.

"What are you -" Andrew is confused. Very confused. He was ready to apologize for overstepping an obvious mark, flirting with another man's girl right in front of him, and now this?

"Think you know what I'm sayin'."

Andrew did. He'd gone home Friday night and fisted his cock to thoughts of that silky dress wrapped around your body, your nipples so obvious beneath the fabric, dreaming that they were hard for him instead of Joel, his boss. He should not have been fantasizing about his boss's girl at all, but there was no stopping it.

"Don't have to be nothin', but," Joel shrugs, "If you both want it to be somethin'... I ain't got a problem with it."

It had been simple as that. Joel had handed over your phone number, telling him to get in touch, and it had all gone from there.

You were nervous.

Outwardly you probably looked the same as you always did, legs curled under, eyes focused on the TV ahead, occasionally checking your phone. No. The only outward sign that anything was different were the occasional deep breaths you had to take - deep sighs to stave off the hammering in your heart that little bit longer.

You didn't know how to do any of this. It had been a long time since you properly dated - Could this even be called a date? - and whilst there was no pressure and minimal expectation, you still felt the familiar bubble of nerves in your belly.

You'd texted back and forth from the day Joel gave him your number. You had one anxious phonecall to talk it out, a call that became both easier and harder the longer it went on. When it was over, Joel made you come on his fingers, before sliding the tip of his cock into your mouth for you to quickly swallow down his come. It seemed Joel was coming quicker and quicker lately, and you can't say you blamed him.

There was a knock at the door just as you took your next deep, calming, breath, and you choked on it as it was halfway down, making you cough and splutter for a second as you gasped in air.

Opening the door, it was clear to see he was as nervous as you.

It had felt awkward at first, and you briefly thought about running to the bathroom and calling Joel. Then you'd caught him looking at you, raking his eyes down your body, making him blush when his eyes caught yours, sparkling with laughter. He smiled at you sheepishly, and you openly dragged your own eyes across his body in return, his legs spread and arm thrown back on the couch, and that was the tension broken.

You both spent a long hour on the sofa of Joel's living room, ignoring the TV as you talked, working your way closer and closer to him, short touches getting longer and longer until his hand was resting on your knee. You'd made the first move, shutting him up with a kiss as he talked animatedly about a movie he'd watched with his nephew. It hadn't taken long for your clothes to be discarded around the living room and for you to be dragging Andrew up the stairs to Joel's bedroom. 

He hesitated for a moment, asking if this was really okay, if you really wanted it, if Joel really wouldn't mind, before succumbing to his own desires and falling into bed with you. You had forgotten what it was like to get to know a new body, and to have unfamiliar hands on yours.

Still, it felt good, and fumbling hands quickly brought you to your first release of the night.

His tongue, and a quick look downward to the foreign face between your legs, had brought you to your second.

You tried to hold back your disappointment when he covered his cock with a condom. You understood, as much as you disliked it, and you didn't try to convince him otherwise.

Your third had been around his cock as it pumped in and out of you, the curve dragging across your walls in a way Joel's didn't.

You couldn't take a fourth, and he was coming into the condom inside you with your nails raking down his back just as it all started becoming too much. 

He had held you afterward, talking and laughing into your mouth as you let your hands wander over one another until the early hours of the morning.

You couldn't wait for Joel to get home.

His truck is pulling into the driveway, replacing where Andrew's had been the night before. You run to the door, throwing yourself at him as soon as it clicks open to reveal his beautiful face. 

You kiss him all over - his plush lips, the curve of his nose, the crinkles by his eyes as he laughs at you and tells you to calm down.

“Someone missed me,” he says, thinking how lucky he is to come home to you. You didn't live here, not yet, but he loved how you'd worn down his torn edges and leaked into every part of his life, slotting into the gaps he'd left for you to inhabit.

“Always,” you mumble, still dotting kisses all over him. He finally finds your mouth again, calming you with a deep kiss and sturdy hands, pressing you up against his warm body. He tastes like coffee, even this late in the day, and the bitter familiarity of it stirs something in your belly.

When he pulls back, he's searching your face, looking for any trace of worry, any upset that he may have to deal with. Finding nothing but unbridled joy, he smiles softly, throwing his keys onto the table by the door, the other still kept firmly wrapped around you.

“You have a good night without me?”

A laugh tumbles out of you. You're glad he asked so soon, having been eager to tell him all about it since the moment Andrew left. Still, you can't help but grin at the memory of Andrew and your evening wrapped up in Joel's sheets with him.

“I did.”

“S’good,” he says, knowing that the smiling tearing across your face is for more than just him. He's curious, painfully so, at what another man could've been doing with you to make you so happy. He wishes he could've been there to see it first hand.

“He make you come?” he asks, pulling you along to the couch with you still folded into his arms. You nod, the grin already hurting your cheeks, glad to let Joel know of the fun you had.

“S’good baby, so good.”

He kisses you again before he sits down, pulling you on top of him to straddle his thighs. His hands are roaming all over you, tracing the same trails over you that Andrew's had. The stroke of his fingers drag goosebumps across your flesh as he scrapes them down your hips to rest heavily on your legs.

Pushing his hands firmer into your thighs, you make him hold you tighter, relishing the feeling of his hands being back on you. Andrew had been hesitant to hold you at first, tentative to mark you or grip you too tight. Joel's hands were sure and steady, they knew you in ways that Andrew's were only just starting to know. The new and the old, you were excited for both.

“His hands feel different, baby?”

Joel's cupping your breasts now, gently squeezing and running thumbs over your nipples, making you arch into him with a soft whine. “Yes. Yours are bigger.”

Your hips start to move, first with the arch of your back as you push into his hands, but then with the realization there's a distinct hard shape below you, covered by the rough fabric of his jeans.

"Grind on me baby, that's it. I know your pussy's been all used up, but Daddy needs somethin' too."

“I need it too Daddy.”

“Y’always do baby. Always do.”

You're rocking your hips into him, his hardening erection pressing into your core through the thick denim. His hands reach under your shirt, dragging the fabric up as he moves, exposing your breasts and immediately capturing a nipple in his mouth with a scrape of his teeth.

"What did you like about him? What made you come the hardest baby?"

"His tongue. Uhhh. Came so hard on his tongue, Daddy."

“Oh fuck, I bet he ate this pussy nice and good.” His fingers are tickling up the legs of your shorts, stroking the sensitive apex of your thighs as you rock your body over him.

“You like his cock?” Joel finally asks, curiosity winning over his patience. The question makes you smile, your closed eyes helping you picture the shape of it all over again.

“Yes, Daddy. It was so pretty.”

Joel holds back a laugh. He'd been taken aback when you'd first called his own cock pretty, and when you'd explained in detail what you meant, he understood. If anything, it sparked a new found appreciation for his own dick that he didn't know he could have. If you loved it as much as you did then, damn, it must be pretty. It was no less funny now that you were using the same word to describe another man's cock. If he wasn't so pent up, he'd have you sit here and describe every little thing you liked about it too, but right now he needed to be inside you. He'd held himself back from coming at the thought of you two fucking in his bed last night, and he couldn't hold off any longer.

“That's so good baby. A pretty cock for my pretty girl.”

Joel talking about Andrew's cock makes your head spin in the best way. You lean forward and latch your lips to his just for another surface to find purchase on and stop you drifting off into space.

“Did he come too?”

It's a stupid question, Joel knows this, but one he wanted to hear the answer to anyway. There was something about his girl getting another man off that made pride swell inside him, pumping his cock up to near impossible levels of hardness.

You moan a yes into his mouth as you rub your cunt over the zipper if his jeans. His own fingers trail higher, making you pause your grinding as his index finger finds your hole, dipping in with ease at the excess moisture gathered there.

“He come in here?”

You bite your lip.

“Not like that."

Disappointment flickers across your face, and Joel sees it, well versed in the telltale twitch of your brow as you fight off a frown. He'll press the issue more later, you know, but for now he has one goal in mind.

“You suck his dick?”

“A little bit.”

Joel groans then, bucking up into you at the admission. Knowing his own mouth had been on yours, right where Andrew's cock had been not too long ago was sending him into a frenzy - he needs to calm down or get inside you, and quickly. He pulls you up and off of him, needing more than the heat of your cunt grinding in him over so many layers, and unzips his jeans, pulling out his weeping cock. He's so hard he almost feels bruised. It's okay, he reasons, he knows the perfect thing to ease an aching cock.

Pulling you back over him, he tugs down your shorts and panties, drawing them to the side so he can hook his cock through the gusset, trapping his bare cock against your bare pussy.

You could almost cry feeling his skin on yours and you want to claw your clothes off just to feel more of him on you. You know there's probably not time - Joel's cock is red and angry and it already feels so hot against your dripping slit. You'll have to make do with later, for now you'll just take him any way you can get him.

“Can I sit on it, Daddy? Please?” You plead with him, eyes pointlessly begging when you already know the answer.

“Rub that juicy pussy all over me first baby, gotta get it wet. I know you're all stretched out already, but I don't wanna hurt you.”

Your hips buck, sliding your cunt easily over his length, coating him in your arousal. His cock drags against your clit, jerking the sensitive bundle of nerves with each roll of your hips.

Your patience doesn't last long, and choosing to ask for forgiveness later rather than permission now, you waste no time in lifting yourself up, pushing his cock head to line up with your hole, and sinking down smoothly onto his rock hard length. 

“Ohhhh, Daddy,” you groan as you take him to the root in one.

“Oh, shit, atta girl. Good fuckin' girl.” His hands grip your ass, pulling you flush to him. You fall forward, steading yourself on his shoulders. When his lips capture yours, you let out a moan, opening your mouth to the plundering of his tongue.

“Needed this so fuckin' bad, baby,” he grunts into your mouth, thrusting up now to prompt you to move. You start to rock on him, his cock sliding against a spongy spot on your inner walls, dragging back and forth over it in a way that makes your bottom lip quiver. 

“Need you, Daddy.”

"Rock on me baby. Want you comin' on my cock before I fill you up."

“Oh, god, please.”

You'd gone without it from Andrew last night, and now all you could think about was being filled with Joel's cum.

You let your hips rock forward, the drag of your clit against the hair on his pubic bone pulling a sigh of relief from you as you move. He kept it trimmed short, all the more for you to grind against when you took him deep. It won't be long until you're falling apart over him, your brain had already been half way there before he'd even got through the door.

You rock faster, screwing your eyes shut as your moans get more desperate.

“Daddy, please.”

He knows what you need, he always does. He holds you tight in one arm, planting his other on your ass to encourage you on and on with your movements. You come with him whispering words of encouragement into your ear, shaking and stuttering on his lap, slick gushing around his cock and coating every glorious inch of him.

The remnants of your orgasm are still shuddering through you when he's pulling you to the side, keeping his cock seated deep in you, to lay you back on the couch. From this angle he can fuck into you on his terms, keep you covered and protected with his entire body as he claims your pussy.

He pulls his hips back, the head of his cock coming to rest just at your entrance, before sliding home. You squeal, gripping hold of his arms tightly as he sets a brutal pace fucking into you. Before Joel you're not sure you ever really knew what full meant. At this very moment, in this room, you didn't know what anything meant anymore as he fucked you with a determination that sent you stupid.

You can't help the loud moans that come from your mouth with each thrust of Joel's hips, the wet slap of his skin against yours rattling through your bones and echoing in your empty head.

“Talk to me,” he gasps into your ear. “Talk to me baby.”

“C-can’t Daddy. S’too- s'too good.”

He slows, hips still snapping into yours, but with a force that actually allows you to catch your breath. Not that you wanted to. You were ready to scream for him, but Joel wants more words from you than the shrill cries he'd have otherwise been tearing from your chest.

Joel lathes his tongue down your neck, tracing the faint marks Andrew had left on you. He sucks and nips on them, trying to taste him on you.

“You're so beautiful baby,” he praises. “All fucked out and used up and so fuckin' beautiful.”

"Mm. He was so good, Daddy. Felt so, so good."

You feel fuzzy thinking about it, and fuzzier still with the feeling of Joel's bare cock moving in you. You snap your eyes closed again, gripping Joel's thick arms tightly. His mouth is close to your ear. You can feel it. His breathing is loud, the smell of coffee and clean hair and Joel taking over your senses.

"You want his cum in you, don't you? Come on, no lying now. I know you do, it's okay. Tell me. Saw your face when I asked, baby. Need to hear it."

"Yes, Daddy," you whine into his neck. "I want his cum in me so bad."

Joel's heart hammers in his chest, his balls are so tight they could burst, but he's determined to last longer this time. He's waited two days for you, for this. All week he'd been coming in what felt like seconds, unable to keep the thought of your weekend activities out of his mind. He was worse than a damn teenager.

"I could be fucking it deeper into you right now. My dick would be covered in it. Could have it dripping off my balls. You'd lick it off and clean me up, wouldn't you baby?"

"Please."

You would, and you wished for nothing more than to be doing that right now. The need for it makes your eyes water, and Joel spots the signs, quickly capturing a small tear with the pad of his thumb.

“S’okay sweetheart. We'll get you filled up.”

His arms wrap around you, holding you tightly to him as pounds into you, whispering filthy promises in your ear before you finally get your fill. It doesn't take him long, relishing in the sounds of your moans in his ears, the pretty sounds of you begging for him, needing your Daddy so much you were crying for it. He whispers right back to you, telling you how much of a good girl you are, how beautiful you look when you're desperate, how much Andrew must have wanted you to have come to another man's house, to have fucked you in another man's bed, how very much he loves you, and you're his, you're his, you're his.

Your combined voices egging each other on and the wet grip of your cunt get him there, pulling him into you and painting your insides with his cum. Swollen lips find yours, and you swallow down his grunts as he jerks into you.

You feel warmed from the inside out when Joel finally looks at you again, taking your head in his hands and kissing you softly.

"Missed you," he mumbles into your mouth, and the warmth in your bones melts them, turning you to liquid right there on the couch.

"Missed you too, Joel."

Joel slips out from between your legs, stuffing a hand between you to quickly pull the fabric of your panties and shorts over your dripping center. He cups you there, holding you gently, soaking through your panties and shorts with cum as it leaks out of you. With his hand still between you, he rests his sweaty forehead against yours, letting your hands stroke soothing patterns up and down his back

A loud gurgle breaks the comfortable silence, and you both laugh. It was late in the day, neither of you had eaten but both had worked up quite the appetite.

"I made lasagna," you say, Joel's weight shifting off of you, removing the shroud of his body from over the top of yours. You'd spent half the day making it, needing something to keep you occupied as you waited for Joel to come back from his work trip.

Sitting back on the sofa, he assesses your relaxed form - legs still spread, dark patch forming on the front of your panties from your combined fluids leaking out of you, lips swollen and eyes glassy.

"S'perfect," he says, and you're not entirely sure he's talking about the food.

You'd eaten dinner together, finally peeling yourselves apart when the 40 minute timer had gone off. Afterwards, Joel had taken you upstairs, spotting the same sheets that were on his bed when he left you here on Saturday morning. You go to change them, cursing yourself for the oversight, but he tells you to leave it, pulling you in for a kiss before dragging you into the shower with him. You fall asleep soundly in his sheets that night, the smell of you and him and Andrew mingled together on the soft linens.

Joel, however, can't sleep. He can't get your face out of his head - the twitch in your eyebrow, the tear escaping your eye with how much you wanted something you didn't get. He knows you - he knows you would never ask, never make that kind of request of anyone. But he is not you.

So, at some time gone 11, cradling your sleeping form in one arm, he pulls out his phone.

Joel M. (11:13 p.m.): You seeing anyone else?

A. (11:20 p.m.): What?

Joel M. (11:21 p.m.): Are you fucking anyone other than my girl.

A. (11:21 p.m.): No.

Joel M. (11:28 p.m.): Good. Get tested. If you're gonna fuck her, you're gonna fuck her properly. She's on birth control, so no more of that condom shit.

A. (11:32 p.m.): You sure? She okay with it?

Joel M. (11:32 p.m.): She wants it. Too damn nice to ask for it.

Joel M. (11:33 p.m.): Just get yourself tested. Let me know the results.

Somewhere in an apartment across town, Andrew is rubbing a hand over his face, not quite believing his luck but not quite knowing what he's got himself into.

taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

[baxxartist]

A short story based on @aychama 's royal au and comic.

Part 1

Next here

(thank you for being an inspiration, your art and story is amazing and this has been on my mind forever)

✨Disclaimer✨

THIS IS VERY MUCH NOT CANNON FOR EITHER AUs

I do not speak for the creator

This is a fan creation of a fan creation. I do not expect this to ever be cannon and please never treat it as such.

I am writing this on my phone, instead of sleeping, so this will very likely be bad writing and under researched.

If you don't like oc x cannon in any universe, keep scrolling

Ari was watching from afar, he's been a loyal servant since he could remember. Abandoned by his nobal family due to being a hybrid, despite this Ari still did his best to hide his horns and wool-like fur mostly to blend in. Ari is trying to avoid harassment, but his family essentially wiped their hands clean of him...accept for his grandmother. Who took Ari into her care, despite it causing her to be disowned herself, and through many trials and errors. She got a job as one of Narinder's servants and trained Ari so he would be able to support himself after she died. Landing the job as her replacement quickly as all he ever knew was to serve.

He's been loyal...well despite occasionally sneaking off to meet with his "siblings" who are more his close friends. Sal, the oldest is an advisor of Shamura, Kay, is one of Kallamar's husbands, Harper, she's mostly in charge of the farms and villages ensuring they're all running properly, and Levi, the youngest, who was sent by Shamura to protect Leshy and to act as a guard. Despite this Levi acts more as a guide and personal serveant

They all taught Ari most of what he knows now, though most of his knowledge he keeps to himself. Despite being a skilled fighter and having a vast knowledge on medicine, scavenging, and hunting. He only plans to say something if needed.

Despite Ari trying his best to focus on his work. He kept glancing over at Aym who was sparing with a few of the knights. Mentally going over every mistep, wrong swing, bad form. Yeah that's why, he was looking for weaknesses in the knights that needed improving...not focusing on Aym, his perfect form, quick thinking...yeah Ari's not looking at him at all.

Ari snaps out of his thoughts, mumbling to himself before continuing his tasks for the day, though occasionally his eyes wonder back to Aym. He smirks seeing many struggle against Aym. "He's easy if you watch him long enough and not focus on him..." Ari mumbles as he felt his face getting red as he snaps his thoughts back to his tasks. "That's completely ridiculous, I'm a servant. I shouldn't know any of this" Ari says softly to himself, but he can't help but want to spar. But doing so could make things very bad for him as this is knowledge he's never told anyone he has.

Ari tried to get his mind of what was essentially the kingdoms military leader, before getting flustered again. Aym was so nice every time they interacted, speaking occasionally when they were younger.

Later that afternoon, as Ari finished his tasks, he snuck off into he forest. Occasionally he'd travel to the more monster ridden lands, but that was more for a day off. So for now he made his way to a clearing a good distance from the kingdom before reaching into a tree stump, confused. He kept the sword his grandmother gave him...the only sign of his noble heritage...now gone? He panicked, no one could've known about that until Ari heard a voice behind him.

"Looking for this?" Aym asks, his tone dark, protective. Ari knew he was screwed as he turned around, looking at the sword in Aym's hands. A silver handle with a red gemstone, protected by a leather sheath, prayer and symbols of protection and strength in an ancient language.

Ari knew he was fucked, if only he could think of an explanation

[frightenedcricket]

Pretty girl.

Noah Sebastian x OC

Note: self indulged fic.

Warning: dysphoria written from my own experience. Read the note at the end before criticising or whatever.

Noah walked past the bedroom and saw Alex watching herself in the mirror. He didn't pay much attention to her and walked in the toilet. It only took him like five minutes, but when he came back she was still there. Praying she hadn't seen him, he stood hidden by the door. What was she doing? She was there dressed in tight jeans and a shirt. There was make up on her face and her hair fell over her shoulders. He couldn't see her face, so he didn't noticed at first. Then he heard her sniff and he frowned.

"Alexandra?"

She turned and suddenly the sniffing transformed into sobbing.

"Alexandra"

He crossed the room and engulfed her in a hug. She broke down in his arms and he had to hold her so she wouldn't collapse.

"Hey, hey. Let's sit"

They moved together to the bed, where he made her sit on his lap and hug him. She cried and cried, her body trembling. Noah held her with a hand behind her head and caressed her back gently.

"Let go... It's fine. Just let go"

Alex needed a good time to regain her breathing, but she couldn't bear to look at him.

"Baby..." Noah whispered. "Can you breathe slow for me? Deep breaths"

She nodded and breathe like he did, trying to focus on his chest moving against hers.

"Well done."

They stayed like that for longer. At some point, Noah even moved them so they were laying across the bed. Her legs were still on his sides, and her arm laid across his chest. His hand was on her long hair, playing with the ends.

"Hey" He muttered and brushed their noses. "Want to talk?"

She took a deep. Breath and felt her chest grow tight. It was her biggest fear, to have to face it and tell him.

"I don't know how..." She said but choke on her words.

Noah frowned. He couldn't express how worried he was, but he was feeling quite dizzy. He wanted to help her. He loved her. It hurt to her like this.

He cupped her cheek and pressed a kiss to her lips. One that she savored as the last one.

"Noah"

"Tell me"

"Don't hate me" She whispered.

"Why would I?"

"I'm not feeling well"

"Are you sick? Do you want to stay at home tonight?" They had planned to go and have dinner with some of the guys.

She shook her head and moved her hand to Noah's cheek. She pressed their foreheads and closed her eyes.

"What is it? Please, tell me. I don't want to see you like this"

"I don't want you to leave me"

For Alex, Noah was her whole world. He was her lover, her best friend, her biggest fan, her shoulder to cry, her biggest critic. He was the person who made her grow, who pushed her to be better. He inspired her in so many aspects, he had been her link to amazing people, he had been the man her best friends had given thumbs up and a big smile... Everyone could see how happy he made her. Alex simply couldn't loose Noah.

"Why would I?"

Alarmed, Noah propped himself up with his elbow. Subconsciously, he moved his leg between hers, kind of threadening it with hers and trapping her there. It was his way to avoid her running away.

"I-I..." She closed her eyes and and tear slipped down her cheek. She had never talked about this with anyone she thought she was doing better, that she had just gone through a difficult phase. But it had come back. "I'm not comfortable"

Noah felt himself going pale. His face felt cold and sweat was forming on his forehead.

"With me?"

She shook her head again and he frowned confused.

"Then?"

"I-I don't know how to explain it... But..."

"Don't worry, take your time."

"I'm not comfortable with who I am"

Noah pushed her hair put of her face.

"What do you mean? Your job?"

Alexandra took a deep breath.

"Physicaly"

Noah frowned even more. "You are beautiful"

Alexandra sniffed and moved to touch his face.

"That's not... Uh... Helpful"

Her heart broke every time he said those words. Maybe not everytime literally. She loved to hear that when they were baked in bed, when she wore her huge pyjama, when she was fully dressed on that comfy merch the band made... But she hated it in moments like this.

"I don't get it, Alex..."

She sobbed and rolled so she could hide on his chest. He didn't know it, but every time he called her Alex her heart would flutter.

"Alex... I don't know what to do..." Noah was desperate. The clock was forgotten, he didn't care about being late or not make it at all. He didn't want to leave the bedroom until he knew she was okay. "Please..."

"I'm so sorry"

"No, no, love. Don't be. Just look at me and tell me what's wrong"

Alex took a deep breath and left her shelter in his arms and sat up. She crossed her legs and Noah mimicked her.

"It's okay if you want to break up with-"

"Don't" He grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles.

"Noah... This thing..."

A bulb lit on his brain. It couldn't be, right? He wouldn't oppose to it. But it meant they would break up and... How could he live without her?

"Are you a lesbian?"

Alex blinked slowly and the tears stopped. She kind of felt her throat going dry.

"No"

"No?"

She shook her head. She was into girls, but she also was into guys. She was very much into Noah specially. That wasn't the issue. It wasn't about her sexuality.

"No. I'm pretty much into you" She cupped his cheek and his fingers coated with a couple of tears that had scaped.

"T-then? What is it?"

"I don't like myself when I look like this"

Noah frowned. She looked normal. It was just her on her clothes.

"I don't get it... Sorry..."

Alex brushed her tears away and got up. Noah watched her go to the mirror.

"This" She pointed at her reflection. "I don't see myself. I see a really feminine girl. She is pretty. She has a cute haircut. But she is not me. That's not Alex..."

Noah sat on the edge of the bed and watched her. She was his beautiful girl, she was his Alexandra. He loved her so much. Noah couldn't understand what she was saying.

"Then who are you?"

She looked at him through the mirror.

"Not her. Not so feminine. Not someone who wears this clothes" She hugged herself. "I'm scared you don't like who I am. Or you stop feeling attracted to me if I look different. If I don't show my curves of it don't look like a pretty girl"

Noah jump to his feet and moved behind her. His big tattooed hands grabbed her by her shoulders, his thumbs drawing circles on his shoulder blades.

"You will always be my pretty girl, Alex"

She lowered her heard and whimpered. How could he be so sure?

"What do you want? Tell me" He circled her with one arm and pushed her chin up so she would look at him through the mirror. "C'mon. How would you feel better?"

She shrugged.

"How do you feel about this clothes?"

"I'm uncomfortable"

"Okay, that's the beginning"

Noah kissed her temple and moved his hands. Soon, her shirt was on the floor. "And this trousers?"

"I hate them"

Noah chuckled and kissed her Naked shoulder. There was nothing sexual. Just pure comfort and want. He wanted to peel her of that skin she hated.

"How much do you trust me?" Noah's brain was working fast. He was thinking of everything she liked about his own style.

"With my life"

"And with scissors?"

She frowned.

"Words?"

"Go on" A smile fought the pout on her lips as she watched him on his knees in front of her. With pure concentration, he cutted the legs of those jeans right above her knees.

Noah stood up and cupped her cheeks trying to bush the rests of mascara under her eyes. He gave her the most breathtaking kiss and then pulled back.

"Do you like it?"

They looked through the mirror and she nodded. She truly did.

"And your hair?"

With a loud gasp, she took the scissors away.

"No, no, you are not doing it"

Noah laughed loudly. "I wasn't... I was thinking about paying Joey a visit"

"Your barber?"

"Well, I've seen some girls in..." Noah stopped. "You are..."

"A girl?" Alex bit his lip. "Yeah."

"Okay..."

"I'm sorry I'm this messy..."

"No, no. Don't be. Just... Do you want to explain?"

She nodded.

"I'm a woman. But... I don't feel comfortable being a woman just how everyone expects me to"

"Okay... So... Are you more masculine?"

She shrugged.

"I don't even know what it means... To be honest. I'm like... I don't know. I don't really feel comfortable like that"

"That's fine. We will figure it out together. I promise"

"I'm scared you'll stop being attracted to me if I don't look so feminine."

"I won't." He muttered. "I just want you to be happy. I'm always attracted to you. Even when you don't look like that. I like when you wear my clothes. And when you mix stuff. I always like you."

"You would tell me, right? If you don't find me hot looking different."

"I would if that made you happy" He said. "But it would be a dick move. And selfish."

"I love you so much, Noah"

"I know. And I love you too. Don't doubt that, okay?"

Alex nodded.

"Now... Go and choose something from my wardrobe."

"Yours?"

"Mhm. I know you like it. I see it now"

"What?"

"How you always suggest stuff. And tell me how to put my clothes together."

Alex bit her lip.

"You'd like to dress like that"

She nodded and smiled so big. Noah Sebastian was a clever guy.

Five minutes later, a huge white t-shirt hung loose around her body. Noah stood behind her and combed his fingers through her hair. He was quite clumsy trying to do someone's else hair. But he could put a bun together. She had always been told to wear her hair long and loose, that it was beautiful.

"There you go"

They choose a pair of shocks she wore with her vans and went back to the mirror. Alex looked so different, but she couldn't stop smiling.

"I used to dress like this when I was younger"

"Why did you stop?"

She shrugged. "I wanted boys to like me"

Noah looked down at her.

"Alexandra..."

"I know, I know... I will get better. I promise"

Noah nodded and leaned to kiss her temple. "You are beautiful" He whispered. "Does it help?"

She nodded. "It does now. You find me beautiful like this"

"I do."

"I find myself beautiful like this too"

"That's awesome"

Alex looked at herself once more. She knew she couldn't be happy based on how attractive Noah found her. She had listened to that so many times. She was worth much more than how people found her. But her chest warmed to feel Noah so close.

"Just be yourself, okay? We will find some clothes, a cool hair cut that suits you better..."

"I just want to stop being what everyone expects me to. I'm not that girl"

"Let's bury her"

She nodded.

"Let's bury her"

Noah kissed her shoulder.

"Can you tell me what you see now?" He said and snaked his arms around her.

"Uh... I see myself now. Alex. I am like this. I feel like this. I see me"

Noah smiled and kissed her cheek. "I love you, Alex"

"I love you too"

"Now go and wash your face. The guys are waiting"

She eagerly nodded, not feeling that anxiety anymore.

They walked hand in hand. She was even wearing one of Noah's jackets, her own not suiting her anymore. The guys smiled when they walked in the dinner and looked curious. But they didn't say anything. They shared looks and smiled.

"You look good, Alexandra. So cool" Folio said. "Did you do something to your hair?"

"She didn't let me" Noah said with a smile.

"You are not getting close to my hair with scissors"

"I cut the jeans, though"

She rolled her eyes but he pulled her close and kissed her cheek.

"You let him do what?" Folio gasped. "Alexandra..."

She bit her lip and grabbed Noah's hand under the table.

"Alex. It's Alex, okay?"

They nodded.

She was still Alexandra. But she felt more comfortable like Alex. She liked Alex.

"Cool"

Two days later, Noah waited outside Joey's shot. He had been told to wait outside. Alex wanted it this way. When she walked out, her hair was shorter. So much shorter. It looked like a wolf cut, or something like that. She looked amazing.

"Oh wow" There was a huge smile on his lips that made her blush. She looked awesome, happy and had something unique. "Wow, what the hell did you asked for? That's so cute. I mean cool. You look cool"

"You can be cool and cute, Noah..."

"You are."

"So are you"

She hugged his waist and closed her eyes. Noah laid his chin on her head and hugged her too.

"What do you feel like doing now?"

"Um... Do you want to go thrifting?"

Noah chuckled and nodded. "We can drop your old clothes too, right?"

"That would be awesome."

"let's go then, pretty girl"

Author's note: for me talking about dysphoria was weird because I didn't know it actually was dysphoria. It felt wrong, I felt uncomfortable, I felt ugly, I had lots of anxiety, I never felt good enough, my clothes were never right, my hair never looked good. I had a relationship and i wanted to look good for him. I wanted to be pretty for him and being pretty meant to be normative. I needed to wear make up, have long hair, wear skirts and dresses, be a really feminine girl. I had to like "girls" stuff. But that wasn't me.

When that relationship ended, I didn't feel like myself. I felt so uncomfortable with who I was and what I did for fun and stuff. So slowly I tried to find things that suited me. I began with clothes. I started changing my clothing style. Then my hair. It took a bit, but I finally found a more androgynous way to express myself and the anxiety reduced. I found that people around me didn't mind, they still thought I was "Cool" and "good looking".

I still struggle sometimes. There are bad times in which I feel weaker and I try to hide, but my life changed so much. I struggle showing my body, my curves and all of that, to be honest. I'm not happy with some parts of it. But I'm still figuring it out.

I'm a girl, I'm just not the girl they expect me to be, so I changed myself and morphed into what girlhood felt for me.

Thank you for reading if you did, my writing is sometimes a way to express how I feel with my life and helps me a lot ❤️