#I thought things were supposed to change for the better

[catpriciousmarjara]

This post has been rattling around in my head for a while now and I know that Dick was supposed to be the Court's best talon and there was some kind of prophecy at play and all, and that Court still hopes that he'd take up that position or something? Anyhow I've been inspired! Hope you don't mind @freefallintothevoid!

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Sometimes Grayson walked liked them.

Him and Cassandra that is.

It wasn't always obvious. Grayson caught on before anyone else would notice and would change his posture immediately, shifting from the lethal prowl of a stalking panther to the more languid grace of a resting one he constantly keeps up.

But he still has to actively change it. Which meant that the one that came first was what came natural to him. What his body defaults to.

Lethal. Sharp. Killing.

Damian was sure that Drake had seen it even if he hadn't yet put a finger on it. He would soon though.

Todd hadn't. Neither had Brown or Gordon or Thomas. As of now only Cassandra and himself had an idea.

Of course Father and Pennyworth surely knew the full story. But they had been with Grayson since he was a child so they didn't count.

The fact of the matter is that Grayson moved like them, thought like them, and when he wasn't paying attention, had eyes like them.

Concerning when the two of them were trained as assassins since before they could walk or talk.

When he had first noticed he'd been impressed. Father really was as great as they said. To train up such a good soldier for his crusade.

But then he got to know Grayson, become his Robin. Got to fly through the skies with him. (Went to the zoo with him. Ate ice cream with him. Slept tucked under his warm, safe arms.)

He got to know Father through Grayson. (Bruce Wayne was Damian's father, but Grayson was Damian's everything. When he had thought Grayson was about to have a child, Damian had been so worried about being replaced but he wasn't. Damian was always, always enough for Grayson. More than enough.)

So knew that Father considered what had happened to Damian and Cassandra as harmful. He knew Father would never do that to a child, much less Grayson.

Father didn't really seem to know how to classify Grayson. Son? Brother? Partner? Soldier? Their relationship contained multitudes, exemplified in how Pennyworth considered them all grandchildren but Grayson was the man's son. As much he was Father's. Perhaps even more.

Father and Grayson. Co-dependent and convoluted. Filled with love and vitriol and respect and anger and love.

Father considered Grayson as the benchmark for how he should be. Gets despondent when he failed to live up to Grayson's ideals. Yearned to control every little aspect of Grayson's life. To bind Grayson to himself and Gotham irrevocably.

Because Grayson shined so bright. Because Nightwing was everything Batman wanted to be. And once Grayson realised how much better off he was without Bruce Wayne, without Batman, what would Father be left with?

The very thought of losing grasp of Grayson, of disappointing him, terrified Father. He would have let the world burn if it meant Grayson lived. Already had.

(Damian agreed. Grayson was the best. He was Damian's Batman. They were the best. Still are the best. No matter anyone said.)

(He and Father were way too alike than either of them would ever admit out loud.)

Grayson was Father's absolute favourite. His greatest success in his dark mission. Once, they had all been jealous of Grayson's position in Father's heart. They had quickly realised that there was no difference in being Father's favourite and that of a god's. The favour and fury of the gods were one and the same after all.

Fact of the matter is that father considered Grayson the only thing he did right and that he was a much different man than was described to Damian. A better man. A worse man.

So it wasn't Father that made Grayson walk that way. Walk as if he was like them. Walk as if someone held up a mirror to Damian and Cassandra-children born in the darkness and taught to live with it until they learned they could step into the light.

And to think that Grayson had to endure the same. That there was once a time he had to live like them? Had been trained like them?

It angered and despaired them beyond belief.

Grayson, despite his ruthless darkness, despite his sheer lethality, was someone who was destined to soar in the spotlight.

He chooses to be good. He chooses every single day, in spite of all the tragedy in his life, in spite of how easy it would be to let go and fall, to be good.

How could anyone have ever wanted o clip his wings?

It was an abhorrent act against nature almost.

Once they noticed, it was impossible to ignore. Grayson was twisted, like all of them, but his ran on the same depths as the both of them.

Grayson didn't kill. But he hurt. (And sometimes when he was really angry, he'd make his enemies beg to to be hurt by him.)

Damian had seen him throw his adversaries out of subway cars. Had seen him dangle criminals from high-rises with one hand during thunderstorms. Beat people bloody with his bare fists.

(Had heard about him defeating grandfather with a sword. Grayson was the best.)

Interrogate criminals until they were sobbing messes.

Certainly they could all do that. But Grayson's edge was a sharp, poisonous thing, and it tasted like honey.

Damian was sure neither John and Mary Grayson nor Father had given him that blade. And yet it wasn't exactly something people are born with either. It was taught.

By whom though? That was the question, wasn't it?

Damian and Cassandra hadn't yet made any headway in answering it. Which meant Grayson knew and hid it. That Father knew and hid it. And that Gordon would die with that knowledge as long as Grayson wanted it hidden.

Wilson definitely saw it, that toxic edge. Grayson had flourished as Renegade after all. Perhaps even a bit more than he had as Robin.

Talent. Overwhelming talent. Which made Grayson's choice to be Nightwing all the more profound and worthy of respect.

Lady Shiva saw it. How Grayson used his body like a tool made for combat. The kind of control he exerted on a daily basis to not kill in a way only the truly deadly had to be.

Her standing invitation for Grayson to become her apprentice just emphasized that she saw what Damian and her daughter did, and that she wanted to polish Grayson further.

Bruce Wayne, Slade Wilson, Sandra Wu-San: Grayson, the feather in their cap or the prospective feather in their cap.

And someone else unseen thinking the same, the ones who kept that edge till Batman whetted it on the crime infested whetting stone that was Gotham.

They had yet to ask Grayson.

For one thing it wasn't like anyone in this family knew how to communicate. For another thing they knew Grayson would somehow make them unsee it.

Grayson manipulated as easily as he breathed. And he was probably the only one who could claim that he always did it for the right reasons.

Sometimes they were aware of it. Sometimes they weren't. But they always end up doing as he wanted. If Damian and Cassandra asked, he would somehow convince them it was nothing.

They didn't want that.

Dick Grayson walked like them, and they wanted to show him that they would walk with him.

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[Fair warning I don't know whats canon and whats fanon. Everything is mixed up in my head so take some things with a grain of salt. (Things I definitely got right- Bruce and Dick's complicated fucked up relationship, Dick being a lethal combatant, Dick being manipulative, Lady Shiva wanting to train Dick.) Things I got wrong-I don't know really lol]

Dick Grayson's unmatched success as a child vigilante makes a lot more sense when you remember the Court of Owls was a thing and that Dick was meant to be the next Grey Son.

There is no way that someone at Haly's Circus wasn't there keeping an eye on him while he grew up. A future weapon needs to be trained and monitored after all, and a circus, a place where weird skills are completely normal, is actually a great place to secretly train a child.

You know, just some knife tricks that translated really well into actual fighting. How to get out of restraints and pick locks while under a time limit. Death defying acrobatic stunts that coincidentally do wonders for parkouring. That sort of thing. Nothing that seems out of place for a boy growing up around circus performers to learn, but would literally any where else.

I mean, while I fully believe that most kids would want to kill the man responsible for their parents deaths, Dick was weirdly prepared to go through it. He tracked down Zucco with way more ease than any normal child should have too. He became the first child vigilante, for goodness sake. The first Robin! He only started getting formal training after he basically forced Bruce into it!

Bruce himself has no idea that this kind of competency in a child is unusual, considering he was much too blinded by the similarities between his and Dick's tragic orphanhoods.

Alfred is in a similar boat because he’s desensitized to weird children after he somehow managed to successfully raise Bruce 'The Batman' Wayne, so he doesn't clock the hyper-competency as abnormal either.

By the time the other batkids start popping up (Jason 'The Audacity' Todd, borderline-street rat with no fear) (Tim 'the greatest stalker in Gotham history' Drake, child genius, also bullied his way into becoming Robin) (Barbara 'raised by the only uncorrupt cop in gotham' Gordon) (Stephanie 'daddy issues and spite' Brown) (Duke 'Pretends he's the normal one and people believe him' Thomas) it's too late.

It would also explain how Dick got along so well with Damian out of all of them. Similar childhood with different approaches and all that. On some subconscious level, Dick recognises and resonates with the murderous ten year old assassin with strong familial ties to a secret elite assassin organization.

It isn't until after the whole Court of Owls and Grey Son reveal that suddenly Dick realises a whole lot of things about his childhood that suddenly make a lot more sense.

[blacktabbygames]

(slight, vague spoilers ig?) about the HEA route, were we always intended to dislike smitten and his actions here were clarifying that intent, or was it more like character development? I've been seeing more people say that his actions here have made them dislike him during other routes too, so I wasn't sure if he was always supposed to be difficult to like or not

The voices are, among other things, manifestations of the player's emotions. Even the best things in life can be destructive in excess, and in terms of voices, this is far from being a unique characteristic of the Smitten. See also: Cage!Skeptic; Tower!Broken; Witch!Opportunist, etc. etc.

Smitten in HEA is an interesting stand-out case because the route hits particularly close to home for a lot of players. And when something in a fantastical setting hits close to home, there's a tendency to apply real world standards to the characters involved in that event. So players are more likely to take Smitten to task, than they are, say, Hunted, who traps you in a cycle where you and The Den violently eat each other forever, or Broken, who insists on torturing Apotheosis.

If anything, prior to release, I thought Smitten-heads would mostly be upset at his lack of screen time. He has almost *no* dialogue in The Pristine Cut, even in "his own" route, where the role he serves is more that of an echo than that of an active participant. I liked abby's answer in our AMA.

All of this is to say, there's no overarching intention for you to "like" one voice or "dislike" another. Each iteration of them is "different," much like each iteration of the Player is "different" at the start of each version of Chapter 1. And all of them have the capacity to change, for better or for worse.

[enemiestolovershoe]

I‘m here

Nick Sturniolo x bsf!reader

Summary: Y/N finds out she’s pregnant with her abusive ex’s baby. Her best friend Nick is there to support her.

Words: 11,6k (it‘s a long one holy)

Warnings: use of y/n, not proofread, mention of abuse, giving birth, pregnancy

A/n: This was a request by anon. If you don’t like it please scroll. Nick and reader are strictly just best friends. There is no love between Nick and a female character.

You never saw yourself buying a pregnancy test in the middle of the night, at the ripe age of 22. Yet here you were, standing in the fluorescent-lit aisle of a drugstore that had seen better days. The walls were dull, and off-white, and the hum of the overhead lights was enough to make your head pound just a little harder.

You grabbed the box off the shelf with shaking hands, barely registering the brands or the promises of "accurate results." Did it matter? A test was a test, and the possibility of what it might say made your stomach churn. You glanced at the clock on your phone. 2:16 a.m. A time when the world was supposed to be quiet, asleep, not dealing with life-altering situations.

The cashier, a disinterested-looking girl around your age with bleached-blonde hair and smudged eyeliner, looked up as you dropped the box onto the counter. Her name tag read "Bailey." She scanned the test with a little too much indifference for your liking, her gum snapping between her teeth.

"That’ll be $14.99," she said, tapping her nails against the counter like she couldn’t care less that your world felt like it was teetering on the edge of collapse.

You fumbled with your wallet, your hands still shaking. This was not how things were supposed to go. You weren't supposed to be in this position, not after everything with him. Your chest tightened at the thought of your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend, you corrected yourself. The bruises on your heart were fresher than the ones on your skin, but it didn’t matter. He was still cheating, still lying, and now this?

Bailey gave you a once-over and raised an eyebrow. “You, uh, want a bag for that?”

You blinked, realizing you’d been standing there, frozen. “No, I’m good,” you muttered, stuffing the box into your jacket pocket as discreetly as possible.

“Yeah, sure.” Bailey chewed her gum louder, tapping her fingers on the counter in some kind of rhythm. “Listen, I don’t know what you’ve got goin’ on, but I’ve seen plenty of girls buy these at 2 a.m. And, uh...”

You glanced up, catching her eye.

“You can’t shake away that plus sign if it shows up,” she finished, not unkindly. “Just... good luck.”

You nodded, your throat too tight to respond, and hurried to the back of the store, where a dingy, single-stall bathroom awaited. You locked the door behind you with shaky fingers, pulling the pregnancy test from your pocket.

Sitting down on the edge of the grimy toilet seat, you tried to focus. Just do it. It’ll be fine. It’ll be negative. It has to be.

The moments after felt like a blur. The test was done, and now there was nothing left but to wait. You set it on the edge of the sink, avoiding it like it might burn you if you looked too soon.

It's probably just late. Your thoughts spiraled, trying to find any possible explanation other than the obvious. Stress can mess up your cycle, right? And after all the stuff with him... It has to be that. Just stress.

You sat there, staring at the floor tiles, counting the seconds in your head. Maybe you didn’t even want to know. Maybe it’d be better if you just threw the test away, walked out, and pretended none of this ever happened.

But you couldn’t.

When the time came, you reached for it with trembling hands.

The world seemed to slow as you looked at the result.

Two lines. A plus sign.

Positive.

Your stomach dropped a wave of nausea hitting you so hard you thought you might actually be sick. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening. You blinked, staring at the test like it might change if you looked at it long enough.

No, no, no...

You fumbled for your phone, the only thing grounding you in the moment. There was one person you needed to talk to, the only person who could make sense of the chaos that was crashing around you right now.

Nick.

Your best friend since forever. The one person who never judged you, never made you feel small, even when you made the worst decisions—like dating him. Nick had warned you about him, but you didn’t listen. And now here you were.

With shaky fingers, you hit Nick’s contact and brought the phone to your ear, your heart racing with each ring.

C’mon, Nick. Please pick up.

Ring.

You paced the tiny bathroom, unable to stand still, the walls closing in on you as the test sat on the counter, mocking you with its little pink plus.

Ring.

You ran a hand through your hair, blinking back tears you didn’t even realize had started to form. Your mind raced, jumping from one fear to the next. What am I supposed to do? How do I even begin to tell him this?

Ring.

The buzzing of the fluorescent light above you felt deafening, matching the pounding in your head. You leaned against the door, squeezing your eyes shut.

The ringing stopped, and then came the sound of a groggy but familiar voice on the other end of the line.

"Girl, it's nearly 3 a.m.," Nick mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “What’s up? Why are you calling me at this ungodly hour?”

You swallowed hard, clutching the phone tightly in your hand as you stared at the bathroom floor. You could feel your pulse in your ears, every word sticking in your throat. How do I even say this?

“Uh, I know you’re sleeping, and I’m sorry, but... can you pick me up at the drugstore near your house? I walked here so I have no car.”

The line went quiet for a second. You could hear him shifting in bed, probably rubbing his eyes, trying to make sense of what you’d just said.

“Girl, what do you mean you walked there?” Nick’s voice immediately sharpened, the sleepiness vanishing as concern crept in. “That’s, like, an hour from your house. Are you serious?”

You cringed, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah... I didn’t really think it through. I just... I needed to clear my head.”

“Okay, but what are you even doing at a drugstore at this time? You didn’t feel like going for a walk, I know that.” Nick's voice softened but held that edge of worry he always had when something was wrong.

You inhaled sharply, your eyes flicking to the pregnancy test still sitting on the sink like it was mocking you. “I... I bought a pregnancy test.”

Silence.

The weight of your words hung in the air, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if he had heard you right. But then he exhaled, long and slow, like he was trying to piece it all together.

“Wait,” Nick said carefully, his voice gentler now, but still with that underlying shock, “you? A pregnancy test? As in... like... you think you’re—?”

“Yeah,” you cut in, your voice small. “I, uh, already took it. It’s... it’s positive.”

You heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. Nick was quiet again, but you knew him well enough to picture his face right now—his eyes probably wide with shock, hand rubbing the back of his neck like he always did when he was trying to process something.

“Girl,” he said slowly, his voice low and laced with concern, “you’re telling me, you walked an hour to a drugstore in the middle of the night, took a pregnancy test in some sketchy bathroom, and now you’re just standing there... by yourself? Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, tears welling up in your eyes, making your voice tremble. “I didn’t want to drag you into this, Nick. And I was freaking out, I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Okay, no. You always��call me, no matter what, you know that,” he said firmly, the protective tone in his voice unmistakable. “I don’t care what time it is. If you’re going through something like this, I’m there.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding even though he couldn’t see you. “I’m sorry... I just didn’t know how to deal with this on my own.”

There was a pause, then Nick sighed softly. “Look, it’s fine. You’re not dealing with it on your own. I’m coming to get you, okay? I’ll be there in 15.”

You sniffled, wiping at the tears that had started to roll down your cheeks. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, babe.” His voice was softer now, more like the Nick you were used to—the one who knew exactly how to calm you down when everything felt too overwhelming. “But seriously, don’t freak out until I get there. Just breathe. We’ll figure this out together.”

You nodded again, trying to steady your breathing, even though your mind was still racing. “I’ll try.”

“And while I’m on my way... do me a favor and get out of that bathroom. Go stand by the doors or something, ‘cause, like, ew.”

A small, shaky laugh escaped your lips. Leave it to Nick to somehow make you laugh even in a moment like this. “Yeah, okay. The bathroom’s gross.”

“I can smell it through the phone,” he joked, the warmth returning to his voice, even though you could hear the worry lingering underneath. “Just hang tight. I’ll be there soon.”

You took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping back into the cool, dimly-lit store. The fluorescent lights were harsh, casting long shadows over the aisles. You made your way to the front, standing near the automatic doors, arms wrapped around yourself as you tried to shake off the anxiety gnawing at your chest.

It wasn’t long before the cold air of the night outside started to seep in through the cracks in the doors. You stared out into the empty street, your thoughts swirling. Everything felt surreal—like you were watching someone else’s life unfold instead of your own.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, pulling you from your thoughts. It was a message from Nick: “Almost there, hang on.”

You took a deep breath, glancing back over at the cashier, Maddie, who was still behind the counter, barely paying attention to you anymore. She probably thought you were just another lost soul wandering into the store in the dead of night.

But you weren’t lost, not anymore—not with Nick on his way. Even though everything was spiraling, you knew that with him there, somehow, things would start to make sense.

Another minute passed, and then you saw the headlights of Nick’s car pulling into the parking lot. You felt a wave of relief wash over you, your heart still heavy but just a little lighter knowing he was there.

Before you knew it, Nick’s car rolled to a stop, and you could see him through the windshield, already looking concerned as he squinted out at you, pushing his messy curls out of his eyes.

He stepped out, walking toward the entrance, his expression a mix of worry and exhaustion, but there was no question—he was here for you.

Just like he always was.

The tears started to flow as soon as you and Nick made eye contact. You couldn’t hold them back anymore; the weight of everything—the test, the fear, the walk—crashed over you all at once. Nick’s face softened immediately, his eyes widening as he rushed to you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight, warm hug.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice gentle as he held you close. “I’m here. You’re okay, babe. I’ve got you.”

You buried your face in his shoulder, letting the sobs break free. Nick’s hand rubbed soothing circles on your back, the way he always did when he knew you were on the verge of breaking down. He didn’t say anything for a few moments, just letting you cry, holding you like he was physically keeping you from falling apart.

“It’s okay,” he whispered again. “We’re gonna figure this out. You’re not alone, I promise.”

The words were like a balm to your heart, calming you just enough to breathe a little easier. You pulled back slightly, wiping at your eyes, embarrassed by how much you were crying but too tired to care.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t apologize,” Nick said firmly, his hands still on your shoulders. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, okay? You’ve been through a lot. It’s okay to cry.”

You nodded, biting your lip to stop it from trembling. He gave you one last squeeze before stepping back, though his hand stayed on your arm, like he was still making sure you weren’t going to fall over.

“Do you wanna sleep at mine tonight?” he asked softly, his eyes searching your face. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

You didn’t even have to think about it. “Yeah,” you whispered, nodding. “I... I don’t want to go home.”

He smiled softly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes—he was still worried. “Good. Let’s get you out of here.”

Nick walked you to the car, his arm around your shoulder like a protective shield from the cold and the weight of the night. As you slid into the passenger seat, you could still feel the tension in your chest, but it eased a little with him next to you. He started the car, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence between you both.

For a while, you just stared out the window, watching the empty streets roll by as Nick drove, his hands gripping the wheel a little tighter than usual. The city was quiet at this hour, the streetlights casting long shadows on the road. It felt strange—like the world had paused, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

Nick broke the silence first.

“So... do you wanna talk about it? Or do you just wanna sit in silence for a while?”

You sighed, leaning your head back against the seat. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Okay,” he said softly, glancing over at you for a second before turning his eyes back to the road. “No pressure. You don’t have to say anything if you’re not ready.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, your fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of your jacket. “I guess... I just don’t know what to do now,” you said finally, your voice small. “I never thought I’d be... here, you know?”

Nick nodded, his eyes fixed on the road, but you could tell he was listening carefully. “I get it. It’s a lot, babe. Like, a lot. But you don’t have to figure it all out tonight.”

You let out a shaky breath, rubbing your eyes. “I just feel so stupid. I should’ve seen this coming. I mean, after everything with him...”

Nick’s jaw tightened at the mention of your ex. He had never liked him, and it wasn’t just because of the cheating. It was the way your ex treated you, the way he chipped away at your confidence and left bruises on more than just your skin.

“Hey,” Nick said sharply, cutting off your spiral of self-blame. “None of this is your fault. You hear me? None of it. That guy is a complete piece of��” He caught himself, taking a deep breath. “You deserve so much better than the way he treated you. And now... this? You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You swallowed hard, blinking back more tears. “I just... I feel like my life’s been on fire lately, and this is just... gasoline.”

Nick sighed softly, reaching over and giving your knee a reassuring squeeze. “I know it feels like everything’s falling apart right now. But you’re not alone. We’ll figure this out, okay? Whatever you decide, I’m right here with you. Every step of the way.”

His words felt like a lifeline in the chaos of your thoughts. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak without crying again.

The car ride was quiet after that, the sound of the tires on the pavement the only thing filling the space between you. Nick didn’t push you to talk more, and you were grateful for that. Just having him there was enough.

After a while, Nick cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “So... totally random question. But, like, do you want ice cream or something? I mean, I don’t know what you’re supposed to eat after... you know... life-shattering news, but I feel like ice cream’s a safe bet.”

You let out a small laugh, surprised by how light the moment felt after everything. “Yeah... ice cream sounds good, actually.”

Nick grinned, his shoulders relaxing a little at the sound of your laugh. “Perfect. We’ll swing by that 24-hour place near my apartment. They’ve got this ridiculous flavor called ‘Midnight Madness,’ and honestly, I think it was made for situations like this.”

You smiled, wiping the last of your tears away. “Midnight Madness. Sounds appropriate.”

“Exactly,” Nick said, turning the corner onto a quieter street. “I mean, it’s either that or we just drink a gallon of coffee and pretend like sleep isn’t a thing.”

“As tempting as that sounds, I think I’ll stick with ice cream,” you said, feeling a flicker of lightness in your chest for the first time in hours.

“Good choice,” he nodded, pulling into the parking lot of the ice cream shop. “Because caffeine and emotional breakdowns? Not a good combo.”

You smiled to yourself as the car slowed to a stop. Nick was right—you didn’t have to figure everything out tonight. You didn’t have to have all the answers right now. You had Nick. You weren’t alone.

And for tonight, that was enough.

By the time you got back to Nick’s place, the weight of the night had started to settle in your bones, exhaustion creeping up on you. But Nick, being Nick, refused to let the mood stay heavy for too long.

"Alright," he said, tossing his keys on the counter and motioning dramatically toward the living room. "We're watching a movie, and no, you don't get to pick some tragic, artsy thing that'll make you cry more. I’m thinking... something trashy and comforting. How do we feel about a classic rom-com? Or, wait—Legally Blonde? It's practically medicine."

A small, tired smile tugged at your lips. "Legally Blonde sounds perfect."

Nick grinned, pleased with himself as he grabbed the remote and flicked through the streaming options. He sat down next to you on the couch, grabbing a blanket from the back and wrapping it around the both of you without even asking.

As the familiar opening scenes of Legally Blonde played, the tension in your chest eased just a little more. You didn’t say much during the movie, and neither did Nick. It was a kind of comfortable silence you could only share with your best friend, the kind where words weren’t really necessary. Every now and then, Nick would shoot you a look, checking to make sure you were okay, and each time, you managed a small smile to reassure him. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for now.

The next thing you knew, the movie was over, and your eyelids felt impossibly heavy. The warmth of the blanket, combined with the exhaustion of the night, finally pulled you under. You drifted off to sleep on the couch, with Nick quietly putting everything away, making sure you were comfortable before heading to bed himself.

When you woke up the next morning, the sun was streaming softly through the curtains, casting the living room in a warm, golden glow. For a moment, you forgot about everything. The weight in your chest had lifted just slightly, and you could hear the comforting sounds of Nick moving around in the kitchen.

You stretched, blinking sleepily as the events of the night before slowly came rushing back. The positive test. The panic. The long walk to the drugstore. But then there was Nick—pulling you out of the darkness, like he always did.

The smell of pancakes drifted into the living room, making you realize just how hungry you were. You pulled yourself up from the couch, rubbing your eyes, and wandered toward the kitchen.

Nick stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with one hand while holding his phone to his ear with the other. He was speaking quietly, his tone casual but focused.

“Yeah, so we’re looking to get her an appointment as soon as possible... Yes, I know she hasn’t been in for a while, but this is a bit of an emergency situation.”

You blinked in surprise, watching him for a moment. He was making pancakes and calling your OBGYN? The knot in your chest loosened just a little more. You stood there, leaning against the doorway, feeling a wave of gratitude for him that was almost overwhelming.

Nick glanced over at you and gave you a small, reassuring smile, holding up a finger to let you know he’d be done in a minute. “Okay, that works. We’ll take that slot. Thank you.”

He hung up the phone, setting it down on the counter before turning back to the pancakes. “Morning, sleepyhead,” he said, his tone light and teasing. “I hope you’re ready for the best pancakes of your life because I’m in a zone today.”

You couldn’t help but smile, even though your emotions were still all over the place. “You called my OBGYN?”

“Of course I did,” Nick said, not missing a beat as he flipped another pancake. “Figured you’d want to get in as soon as possible. I booked you for Wednesday morning—does that work?”

You nodded, the gratitude swelling in your chest. You didn’t have the words for how much it meant that he’d already taken care of something you hadn’t even thought about yet. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Nick turned around, his playful expression softening when he saw the look on your face. “Hey,” he said gently, stepping toward you. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just doing what any good best friend would do.”

Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. He froze for a second, then hugged you back just as tightly, one hand rubbing your back as you buried your face in his shoulder.

“Seriously,” you mumbled into his hoodie. “Thank you for being here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Nick’s voice was soft, but steady. “You don’t ever have to find out, okay? I’m here, always.”

You stayed like that for a minute, just holding onto him. Tears threatened to spill again, but this time they weren’t out of panic. They were a mixture of relief and sadness, the enormity of the situation sinking in, but knowing you didn’t have to face it alone made it just a little more bearable.

Eventually, you pulled back, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. “Okay,” you sniffled, trying to regain some composure. “I’m ready for those pancakes now.”

Nick grinned and turned back to the stove. “Coming right up. Get ready to be blown away.”

A few minutes later, you were sitting at his small kitchen table, plates of fluffy pancakes in front of you, topped with fresh berries and syrup. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the first bite melted in your mouth. It was like a little slice of comfort amidst the chaos.

Nick sat across from you, watching you for a moment before he picked up his fork. “So,” he said cautiously, after a few moments of quiet chewing. “I know we’ve kind of... avoided talking about this, but... do you think you’re gonna tell him?”

Your fork paused mid-air. You felt a cold wave rush through you, and for a moment, your heart stopped. You hadn’t even let yourself think about that—about him. The thought of telling your ex, of his reaction, made your stomach churn.

Nick noticed the way you froze, his brow furrowing with concern. “I don’t mean to freak you out,” he said quickly, setting down his fork. “You don’t have to have an answer right now. I just... figured we should probably talk about it at some point.”

You swallowed hard, your appetite vanishing as a knot of anxiety formed in your chest again. “I don’t know,” you whispered, staring down at your plate. “I don’t know what to do about him. I don’t even know if I want to tell him.”

Nick was quiet for a moment, giving you the space to work through your thoughts. When he finally spoke, his voice was gentle but firm. “You don’t owe him anything. You know that, right? If you don’t want to tell him, you don’t have to.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again as you thought about your ex—about the way he had treated you, the cheating, the lies, the emotional scars that still hadn’t healed. The idea of bringing him into this, of him having any part in your life again, terrified you.

“I just... I don’t want him to hurt me again,” you admitted, your voice shaking. “And I don’t want him to have any control over this.”

Nick reached across the table and took your hand, squeezing it gently. “He won’t. Not if you don’t let him. You’re in control here, okay? You get to decide what happens next.”

The tears finally spilled over, and you wiped them away quickly, frustrated with how easily they seemed to come these days. “I’m scared, Nick,” you whispered.

“I know,” he said softly, his thumb rubbing small circles on your hand. “And that’s okay. This is a huge thing, but you don’t have to figure it out all at once. You’ve got time, and whatever you decide, I’ll be right there with you.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath and squeezing his hand back. "Thank you," you whispered again, the words feeling inadequate for everything Nick was doing for you.

Nick gave you a small, sad smile. “I’m always gonna be here, babe. Always.”

The two of you sat there for a moment in the quiet kitchen, the only sound the soft hum of the refrigerator in the background. You knew you had a long road ahead of you, with more questions than answers, but having Nick by your side made it feel just a little bit less impossible.

Wednesday came faster than you thought it would, the days blurring together in a haze of anxiety and sleepless nights. You had spent the past few days trying to mentally prepare yourself for this moment, but nothing really seemed to make the weight on your chest go away.

And now, here you were, sitting in the OBGYN’s waiting room, tapping your knee nervously up and down. The steady rhythm was the only thing keeping you from feeling completely overwhelmed. The sterile scent of the office, the distant hum of soft conversations, and the quiet tapping of computer keys only made the whole thing feel more surreal.

Nick sat to your left, his arm casually draped around the back of your chair, gently stroking your shoulder. It was his way of grounding you, of reminding you that you weren’t in this alone. You were grateful for him, but no amount of comfort could shake the gnawing anxiety in the pit of your stomach.

"You’re gonna be fine," Nick said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "Whatever happens in there, we’ll handle it together. I promise."

You nodded, biting your lip, trying to hold on to his words. But it was hard to calm down when the future felt like it was dangling in front of you, just out of reach. A part of you still couldn’t believe you were sitting here, waiting to have your pregnancy confirmed by a doctor. It didn’t feel real—like you were watching it all happen to someone else.

The sound of your name being called jolted you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see the nurse standing at the door with a clipboard, giving you a polite smile.

"That’s us," Nick said softly, giving your back one last reassuring pat before standing up.

You swallowed hard, taking a deep breath as you stood. Your legs felt a little shaky as you followed the nurse, Nick right beside you, his presence a steadying force. The hallway seemed longer than it actually was, the walls feeling too bright, too clean. Everything felt too much.

The nurse led you into a small, dimly lit room and motioned toward the ultrasound bed. “You can go ahead and lie down,” she said, her voice kind but efficient. “The doctor will be in shortly.”

You glanced nervously at Nick, who gave you a small nod. "You got this," he whispered, standing by the chair next to the bed.

With a shaky breath, you laid down on the bed, trying to calm your racing heart. The paper crinkled underneath you as you adjusted, and your fingers instinctively gripped the edge of the bed.

A moment later, the OBGYN walked in—a woman in her late 40s with warm eyes and a calm presence that put you at ease, even if just a little. She smiled kindly at you, introducing herself before slipping on a pair of gloves.

“So, I understand you’re here to confirm a pregnancy?” she asked gently, her voice soothing but professional.

You nodded, unable to trust your voice just yet.

"Alright," she said, rolling her stool over to the side of the bed. "Let’s take a look, okay? This will feel a little cold."

She squeezed the gel onto your abdomen, and the sudden chill made you flinch slightly. Nick reached over, giving your hand a quick squeeze, a reminder that he was right there with you.

The doctor moved the ultrasound wand across your stomach, her eyes focused on the screen next to her. You couldn’t see what she was looking at, and your nerves spiked as the seconds seemed to stretch into eternity. Your heart pounded so hard in your chest, you were sure Nick could hear it from where he stood.

Finally, the doctor’s expression softened into a small, gentle smile. She turned the screen slightly toward you.

"There we are," she said softly, pointing to a small, flickering shape on the monitor. "It looks like you’re about eight weeks pregnant."

Your breath hitched in your throat as you stared at the screen, that tiny flicker—the heartbeat. It was so small, so fragile, but there it was. The reality of it all hit you like a tidal wave. This wasn’t just an idea anymore, not just a terrifying thought in the back of your mind. It was real. There was a tiny life growing inside of you.

Nick leaned over, his eyes widening as he looked at the screen. “Wow,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s... kinda wild.”

You didn’t say anything, just nodded, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You weren’t even sure what you were feeling—shock, fear, maybe even a little awe. It was all tangled together in a mess of emotions you couldn’t quite untangle.

The doctor gave you a few more details—your due date, some advice for the coming weeks—but most of it blurred in your mind. She printed out a few ultrasound pictures and handed them to you, along with instructions for your next appointment. You took them in a daze, your fingers trembling slightly as you looked down at the tiny, grainy images.

"Take care of yourself, okay?" the doctor said gently as you and Nick stood to leave. "If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call."

You nodded, managing a small “thank you” before following Nick out of the room. The hallway felt even longer this time, and your legs were heavier with each step. The weight of everything was pressing down on you again, and your mind was racing.

You were barely aware of Nick talking beside you, something about stopping for food after this. You couldn’t focus, though. Your eyes were glued to the ultrasound pictures in your hand.

As you stepped back into the waiting room, your eyes instinctively scanned the room. And then you saw him.

Your heart stopped.

Sitting on one of the chairs across the room was your ex. He was casually talking to a girl beside him, and as if the universe wasn’t cruel enough already, she was clearly pregnant too—her belly rounded and prominent. They were laughing about something, completely oblivious to your presence.

You froze in your tracks, the blood draining from your face as a cold chill washed over you. It was like time stopped, your body going rigid as your mind tried to process what you were seeing.

Nick followed your gaze, and when he saw your ex sitting there, his entire body tensed beside you.

“Oh my God,” Nick whispered, his voice sharp but low. He moved slightly in front of you, instinctively shielding you from view, but your eyes were still locked on your ex, unable to look away.

You couldn’t breathe. All the air seemed to have been sucked out of the room. The ultrasound pictures slipped from your fingers, fluttering to the floor in slow motion.

Nick crouched down quickly, picking them up. “Don’t... don’t look at him,” he said softly, his voice urgent. “Let’s just go, okay?”

But you couldn’t move. You couldn’t even think. Seeing him there, with her, laughing and looking so carefree, it felt like a knife twisting in your gut. Everything you had been through with him, all the pain he’d caused, came rushing back in an overwhelming wave.

The tears you had been holding back started to spill over. You felt Nick’s hand on your arm, trying to gently pull you toward the exit, but your legs were locked in place, your chest tightening with the familiar ache of heartbreak.

How could he be here, so happy, while you were drowning in the chaos he left behind?

"Come on," Nick said gently, his voice a lifeline in the storm. "Let’s get out of here."

But you couldn’t move. You couldn’t tear your eyes away.

Nick tried to lead you toward the exit, his grip firm but gentle, urging you to get out of there before things escalated. But it was too late.

Your ex, Jaden, looked up, and his eyes locked on you. The lighthearted conversation he had been having with the girl next to him came to a screeching halt. His face twisted, and he rose from his seat with a sneer, his voice sharp and low as he cut through the quiet waiting room.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jaden whisper-shouted, his voice dripping with venom as he stormed toward you.

Your heart leapt into your throat. Every muscle in your body froze. You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. You stood there, your mind blank, caught in the headlights of a train wreck you couldn’t stop.

Nick instinctively stepped closer to you, his posture protective, but before either of you could respond, Jaden’s eyes flicked toward the ultrasound pictures in Nick’s hand. His expression changed instantly, eyes narrowing, as if he was putting the pieces together in real time.

A sick smirk crept across his face. “Well, well, well,” Jaden drawled, loud enough that the other people in the waiting room started to glance over. “Looks like Nick isn’t so gay after all, huh? Guess you’ve been lying to me this whole time, haven’t you, Y/N?”

The accusation hit you like a punch to the gut. The sheer absurdity of it—of him twisting the situation to fit his own narrative—made your head spin. He was the one who had lied, who had cheated, and now he was standing there, trying to paint you as the one who had betrayed him.

Nick’s jaw tightened beside you, his eyes flashing with anger. “What the hell are you talking about?” he snapped, but Jaden ignored him, his eyes fixed on you like a predator waiting for its prey to break.

You swallowed hard, trying to push down the wave of emotion threatening to pull you under.

“It’s yours, Jaden,” you finally said, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and hurt. “I never ever slept with anyone but you.”

Jaden’s smirk faltered for a split second, but he quickly masked it with a derisive laugh, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, really?” he sneered. “And I’m just supposed to believe that? After all the shit you put me through, you expect me to buy that?”

Your fists clenched at your sides. The audacity—the absolute nerve of him to stand there and act like you were the one who had done something wrong. Anger bubbled up inside you, pushing through the fear and the hurt, giving you the strength to speak.

“You don’t have to believe anything, Jaden,” you said, your voice steadier now. “But it’s the truth. I’ve never lied to you. Not once.”

You glanced pointedly at the girl standing next to him—the girl who was now watching the scene unfold with a smug, snake-like smile curling on her lips. She was rubbing her belly absentmindedly, her eyes flicking between you and Jaden, clearly enjoying the drama.

“But I can’t say the same for you, can I?” you added, your gaze hardening as you looked back at him. “Since you’re obviously doing just fine, starting a whole new life while we were still together.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and tense. Jaden’s smirk faded completely, his face twisting in anger now, but he didn’t say anything right away. He didn’t need to. The girl next to him, however, decided to chime in, her voice dripping with condescension.

“Well, isn’t this a little awkward,” she said, her smile widening as she leaned into Jaden’s side. “I guess it’s a good thing Jaden moved on, huh? Clearly, you’ve got enough going on.”

Her words sent a fresh wave of anger through you, but Nick beat you to it. He stepped forward, his voice cold and sharp as he addressed her. “Oh, sweetheart,” Nick said, his smile saccharine and full of venom. “You’re really gonna sit there and act smug while he’s got two women pregnant at the same time? Trust me, you’re not as special as you think.”

The girl’s smirk faltered, and for a moment, the confidence in her eyes flickered. But Jaden quickly stepped in front of her, his chest puffed up like he was ready for a fight.

“Mind your own business, Nick,” Jaden snarled. “This isn’t about you.”

Nick didn’t back down. “Actually, it is about me when you’re out here accusing me of sleeping with my best friend—who, for the record, I would never. So, yeah, I’m making it my business.”

You couldn’t help but feel a surge of appreciation for Nick. He had always had your back, but seeing him stand up for you now, when you felt so vulnerable, meant everything.

Jaden looked like he wanted to say more, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of dragging this out any further. You were done—done with his lies, done with the manipulation, and done with the way he always found a way to twist everything around.

You straightened your shoulders, taking a deep breath as you looked Jaden dead in the eyes. “I don’t owe you anything,” you said firmly. “Not an explanation, not a conversation—nothing. This baby is yours, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure it’s safe. But you? You’re nothing to me now.”

The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment, and Jaden’s face twisted with a mixture of disbelief and anger. Before he could respond, you turned on your heel and walked toward the exit, your heart pounding in your chest.

Nick followed close behind, casting one last withering look at Jaden and his girlfriend before catching up to you. As soon as the glass doors of the office slid shut behind you, the flood of emotions came crashing down, and you felt like you could finally breathe again.

Nick gently placed a hand on your back as the two of you stood outside, the cool air hitting your face. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

You nodded, but your throat was tight with unshed tears. "I just want to go home," you whispered.

Nick wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a side hug as he led you to the car. "Then let's get out of here, babe," he said softly. "We’re done with him. You don’t have to deal with that shit anymore."

The past few months had been better than you ever could have imagined. Sure, things weren’t easy, but having Nick by your side through it all made it feel bearable. He had always been your rock, but lately, it felt like he was more than that—your lifeline, your sense of stability when everything else was chaotic. You leaned on him more than you ever thought possible, and he welcomed it, never once making you feel like a burden.

You sold your house a few weeks ago. It was bittersweet—leaving the place that held so many memories, but also so much pain. The house was a reminder of Jaden, of all the hurt he’d caused, and it was time to let it go. Moving in with Nick felt like a fresh start, a clean slate for you and the baby.

Nick had insisted, of course, that it was as much your house as it was his now. “It’s not just me helping you out,” he’d said, his voice firm and sincere. “This is our home. We’re in this together, okay?”

And that was how it had been. Together. Through the sleepless nights, the doctor’s appointments, and the overwhelming emotions, Nick had been by your side, never once wavering.

You were now 30 weeks pregnant, your belly round and prominent as you worked on putting the finishing touches on the nursery. The room was small but cozy, painted in soft shades of blue and white, the kind of space you hoped would feel comforting for the baby when he arrived.

Nick was nearby, busy assembling a crib with a determined look on his face, the manual spread out in front of him. He had been working on it for the past half hour, muttering things like “how does this even go together?” and “I swear they make these things impossible on purpose.”

You watched him with a small smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. He wasn’t just doing this out of obligation; he genuinely cared. He had stepped into this role with more grace than you could have ever asked for, and it made you feel less alone, less afraid of what was coming.

As you folded tiny baby clothes into a drawer, your mind wandered to a few weeks back—the fallout you and Nick had after a particularly rough night. You were in the middle of a full-blown breakdown, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once.

Flashback:

You had been pacing around the living room, tears streaming down your face as you yelled into the void. “I can’t do this, Nick! I’m not strong enough. I don’t know how to raise a baby on my own!”

Nick had tried to comfort you, reaching out to hold you, but you had pushed him away, too consumed by your own fears to let him in. “I can’t just pretend like everything’s okay! What if I mess this up? What if—what if I’m not good enough?”

He had stood there, his own frustration evident, but never once raising his voice. “You’re not doing this alone, Y/N. You have me. I’m here. We’re a team, remember?”

But in that moment, nothing seemed to calm you. “You don’t get it, Nick!” you had cried out. “This isn’t your responsibility! You don’t have to do this just because you’re my best friend. This baby isn’t yours, and I—"

Nick had cut you off, his voice suddenly firm, yet full of emotion. “No. Stop. Just stop.”

You had frozen, stunned by the seriousness in his tone.

“I know this baby isn’t mine biologically,” he’d said, stepping closer, his eyes filled with both anger and love. “But I’m choosing to be here. I want to be here. This is our life now, and I’m not going anywhere. You and that little boy in there…” he’d gently placed a hand on your swollen belly, “...you’re part of my family.”

You had broken down completely then, collapsing into his arms as he held you, whispering promises that he would be there, that he would rise to this challenge right beside you.

“I’ll help raise this kid Y/N,” Nick had said, his voice cracking with sincerity. “I promise you, Y/N. We’ll do this together.”

That moment had changed everything for you. It was like something shifted inside, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Nick wasn’t just saying those things to make you feel better—he truly meant it.

Back to present:

Now, standing in the nursery, watching Nick fumble with the crib, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace, even amidst all the chaos. He had kept his word—he was here, by your side, every step of the way.

“You’re doing it wrong,” you teased, leaning against the dresser as you watched him struggle with one of the crib’s side panels.

Nick shot you a playful glare. “Oh, really? You wanna try putting this together then, Miss ‘I’m-Gonna-Supervise’?”

You laughed softly. “I think I’ll leave the heavy lifting to you. Besides, it looks like you’re almost done… maybe.”

He groaned dramatically. “Honestly, this should come with a warning. ‘Do not attempt to assemble without an engineering degree.’”

You smiled, feeling the baby kick inside you, a reminder of how real everything was becoming. “I think you’re doing great, honestly,” you said, your tone softer now. “I mean, if you can handle me, you can handle a crib, right?”

Nick looked up from the crib, a warm smile spreading across his face. “I’ll handle whatever comes our way. You, the crib, the baby… bring it on.”

That simple statement made your heart swell. It was moments like this—small, seemingly insignificant moments—that made you realize just how lucky you were to have Nick. He wasn’t just your best friend anymore; he was your partner in every way that mattered.

As you walked over to inspect the tiny bookshelf you’d been organizing, Nick asked, “So, have you thought of any more names yet? We can’t keep calling him ‘little man’ forever, you know.”

You smiled, rubbing your belly absentmindedly. “I’ve thought of a few… but I don’t know. Nothing feels right yet.”

“Well, no pressure. We’ve still got a couple of months,” Nick said, leaning back on his hands as he admired the crib he’d finally finished. “But I’m just saying, ‘Nicolas’ has a nice ring to it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You wish.”

Nick grinned. “Hey, I’m just throwing it out there.”

The baby kicked again, and you winced slightly, placing a hand on your belly. Nick’s eyes immediately widened in concern. “You okay? Is he kicking hard again?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling through the slight discomfort. “He’s been practicing his karate moves all day.”

Nick walked over, kneeling beside you and placing his hand gently on your belly, waiting for the next kick. “Damn, kid’s got some strength. He’s definitely gonna be a troublemaker.”

You chuckled, feeling the warmth of his hand on your belly. It was moments like this that made you feel truly grateful. You weren’t doing this alone. You had Nick. And even though things were far from perfect, it was okay. It was enough.

“You know…” Nick started softly, not looking at you, his eyes still focused on your belly. “You’re gonna be an amazing mom, Y/N.”

You blinked, feeling tears prick the corners of your eyes. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” he said firmly, looking up at you. “I’ve seen how strong you are, how much love you already have for him. You’re doing everything right.”

You couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. They weren’t the same tears of fear or frustration you’d cried so many times before. These were different—softer, full of gratitude.

Nick stood up and pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping tightly around you. “I’m here, okay? Always.”

You hugged him back, feeling the overwhelming comfort of his presence. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you whispered.

“Luckily, you’ll never have to find out,” he teased lightly, but his words were full of sincerity.

The nursery was almost ready. Your life had changed so much in the past few months, and despite everything—the heartbreak, the uncertainty, the fear—you knew, standing there in Nick’s arms, that everything was going to be okay.

At 35 weeks pregnant, life had settled into a new kind of normal. It wasn’t the life you expected, but it was one that felt full—warm, even. Nick had been by your side from the beginning, supporting you every step of the way. And now, his boyfriend Henry had seamlessly joined the fold, bringing an ease to everything that made you feel a little more at home in this strange, unexpected chapter of your life.

Henry had been a pleasant surprise. When Nick first told you he was dating someone, you couldn’t help but worry about how someone new would react to the whole situation. After all, Nick wasn’t just your best friend anymore; he was also stepping up as a co-parent, and that wasn’t something everyone could handle. But Henry, with his calm demeanor and sharp sense of humor, never flinched. From the moment you met him, he treated the situation with warmth and understanding.

You remembered the first night he came over for dinner. The three of you sat around the kitchen, talking and laughing like old friends, the baby kicking gently as if reminding you that his world was about to get even bigger.

"So, how are you feeling?" Henry asked, his tone gentle but curious. "Nick tells me you’ve been getting a lot of kicks lately."

You nodded, smiling as you placed a hand on your belly. “Yeah, he’s pretty active. Sometimes it feels like he’s doing somersaults.”

Nick grinned, flipping a pancake in the pan. “She’s convinced he’s training for a future in sports.”

Henry chuckled, glancing at Nick. “Well, with the two of you handling things, he’s in good hands.”

That comment had meant more to you than you realized at the time. Having Henry’s support—even though he wasn’t as involved as Nick—made everything feel a little less daunting.

But the biggest change of all was that Matt and Chris were finally back from their year-long YouTube break. You’d known the triplets since you were all kids, and they were like brothers to you in every sense. While they were off traveling the world separately, they’d kept in close touch, FaceTiming regularly to check in on you and Nick. But there was nothing like having them home, right in the middle of the chaos.

The day they returned was filled with the kind of energy only the Sturniolo brothers could bring. You were resting on the couch when you heard the front door swing open, followed by the familiar sound of Matt’s voice.

"Home sweet home!" he called out, his voice carrying through the hallway.

Nick, who was lounging beside you on the couch, chuckled. “Brace yourself. Here comes trouble.”

Chris followed right behind Matt, his voice louder and more playful. “Where’s Y/N? I need to see her.”

You smiled as they appeared in the living room, their faces lighting up when they saw you sitting comfortably with your hand resting on your belly.

“There she is!” Chris beamed, dropping onto the couch beside you. “Finally. I feel like I’ve been gone forever.”

Matt plopped down on the other side, nudging you gently. “You look amazing. Seriously. We were worried we’d come back, and you’d be, like, ready to pop.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Trust me, I feel ready to pop some days.”

Chris grinned, leaning back as he looked between you and Nick. “So, how’s it been? Are you all settled in? Nursery done?”

Nick nodded, smiling proudly. “Yeah, we finished the nursery a couple weeks ago. It looks great.”

Matt raised an eyebrow, glancing at you. “And how are you holding up? Any last-minute panics?”

You hesitated for a second, your mind drifting to the occasional worries that popped up—about the baby, about the future—but you brushed them aside. “I’m doing alright. It’s been... a lot. But with Nick here, and now you guys back, I feel good.”

Chris shifted beside you, his tone softening. “We’re here now, okay? Anything you need—doesn’t matter what it is—we’ve got you.”

Matt nodded, his expression serious for a moment. “Yeah, we’re not going anywhere. You’re not in this alone.”

The sincerity in their voices brought a wave of emotion over you. These were the people who knew you before everything fell apart. They’d been there through every high and low, and now, as you faced one of the biggest challenges of your life, they were here again, standing by your side.

Nick smiled, clearly relieved to have his brothers back. “I told you they’d be all over you the second they got back.”

You laughed, wiping at your eyes before any tears could fall. “I’m used to it.”

The rest of the afternoon was filled with the familiar banter that always made you feel at ease. Matt and Chris quickly fell back into their old rhythm, cracking jokes, making plans, and offering help—whether you needed it or not. You could tell they were excited to be back, and you couldn’t deny that having them here made the house feel fuller, more alive.

Later that evening, Henry came by after work, seamlessly blending into the lively dynamic. He greeted Matt and Chris with ease, already knowing so much about them from all the stories Nick had told him. The brothers took to Henry immediately, especially after he made them laugh within five minutes of walking through the door.

“Alright, so,” Henry said, settling into the armchair across from you. “When’s the baby shower? I feel like we need to throw a proper celebration now that everyone’s here.”

Nick groaned from the couch. “You know I hate that kind of thing.”

Matt shot Nick a teasing look. “Yeah, but it’s not about you, is it? It’s about Y/N and the baby. Come on, we should do something.”

You grinned, shaking your head. “You guys are ridiculous. I don’t need anything fancy.”

Chris leaned forward, his eyes lighting up. “What if we keep it low-key? No big party. Just us. Something chill.”

Nick sighed dramatically. “Fine. But only if it’s small. No crazy decorations or whatever.”

Henry laughed, giving Nick a playful nudge. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep it under control.”

The conversation shifted into light-hearted plans for the baby shower, with everyone tossing out ideas for food and music. The atmosphere was warm and comfortable.

Later, after the evening had quieted down and everyone started heading off to bed, you found yourself sitting in the nursery. The room was ready—crib, baby clothes, little stuffed animals. Everything was in its place, waiting for this new life to arrive. It was strange to think how different your life had become, but at the same time, it felt like it was exactly where it needed to be.

Nick poked his head into the nursery, his voice soft. “You okay?”

You looked up at him, smiling. “Yeah, I’m good. Just... taking it all in.”

He stepped inside, sitting down on the rocking chair across from you. “It’s surreal, huh? Everything’s coming together.”

You nodded, feeling a lump rise in your throat. “I didn’t think it would. Not after everything with Jaden.”

Nick’s expression softened, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, Y/N. You’ve done so much already.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you looked down, blinking them away. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Nick stood up and walked over, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle hug. “And you won’t have to do it without me. We’ve got this.”

You hugged him back tightly, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude. You didn’t need to say anything. Nick already knew how much he meant to you, how much his presence had saved you from feeling completely alone in this journey.

As the night drew to a close and you finally headed to bed, the house felt full in a way it hadn’t in a long time. You had Nick, you had Henry, and now, Matt and Chris were back, bringing their chaotic energy with them. It wasn’t a traditional family by any means, but it was yours, and that was enough.

At 39 weeks pregnant, you felt like a ticking time bomb. Every day could be the day, and you were more than ready to meet your little boy. It was a bright Saturday morning, and you had decided to take advantage of the sunshine with a picnic at the park. Nick, Henry, Matt and Chris joined you, excited to celebrate your last few days of pregnancy in style.

You settled down on a blanket, surrounded by fresh strawberries, sandwiches, and a giant pitcher of lemonade. You were in the middle of enjoying a particularly juicy strawberry when you heard a faint pop. The moment felt surreal, like a scene straight out of a movie.

“What the hell was that?” you muttered, trying to brush it off. But then you felt a wet spot forming under your summer dress, and panic set in. “What the fuck? Did I just piss myself?” you exclaimed, reaching down to feel the dampness.

Nick was the first to react, his eyes widening in realization. “Girl, did your water just break?”

Before you could respond, a sharp pain shot through your lower belly, stealing your breath away. It felt like a vice tightening around you, and you gasped. Matt, who had been busy munching on a sandwich, put it down and jumped to his feet. “Yes! That was definitely your water breaking. We need to get you to the hospital—like, now!”

Henry was already moving, rushing to the driver’s seat of his car. “Chris, get in! We’ll drive her. You guys hop in the back!” He motioned for you to follow as Matt and Chris quickly rounded the blanket, helping you to your feet.

The ride to the hospital was a chaotic whirlwind. You were crammed in the back seat, Matt and Chris on either side of you, while Henry navigated through traffic with urgency. Each contraction sent waves of pain through your body, and you couldn’t help but cry out as they intensified.

“Breathe, Y/N, just breathe,” Nick said, his voice filled with concern. He took your hand in his, trying to anchor you amid the chaos.

“I can’t! It hurts so much!” you cried, gripping Matt’s hand tightly, nails digging into his skin.

Chris leaned closer, his expression serious. “It’s okay, you’re doing great. Just focus on the end goal. You’re about to meet your baby. Just hold on!”

“Why is this taking so long?” Henry asked, glancing nervously at the traffic ahead. “Come on, people, move!”

Finally, the hospital loomed in front of you, and Henry pulled into the emergency lane. He quickly parked and jumped out, running to the entrance to grab a nurse.

“Stay with me,” Chris said, squeezing your shoulder gently. “You’re almost there. We’re right behind you.”

When the nurses arrived with a wheelchair, you were relieved and terrified. They helped you into the chair, wheeling you quickly through the hospital corridors. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed, and you could hear the distant sounds of other mothers in labor, some crying out in pain just like you.

They wheeled you into the delivery room, and once inside, the nurse quickly assessed the situation. “Alright, let’s get you settled in. Can you tell me your name and date of birth?”

You breathed heavily, focusing on the nurse’s face. “Y/N, and it’s 'your birthday'.”

“Perfect, thank you.” She kept moving, adjusting things around you as you tried to catch your breath. Just then, Nick poked his head through the door, looking slightly frazzled.

“Hey, can I come in?” he asked hesitantly, his eyes darting between you and the medical team. You could see the concern etched on his face.

“Nick, if you don’t mind, I want you by my side,” you managed to choke out between contractions. “But just if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind!” he said, rushing in and taking a seat beside you. His presence calmed your nerves slightly, grounding you as the pain surged again. “I’m here. You’re doing amazing, Y/N.”

The nurses continued preparing the room, and the energy shifted as they asked you a series of questions. One of the nurses turned to you, her voice warm. “Can you tell me when your last contraction was?”

You were about to answer when another wave hit you, sending you into another bout of crying. “I can’t—please, I don’t know!”

“Okay, okay,” Nick said, gently squeezing your hand. “Just breathe through it. I’m right here. You’re going to be okay.”

Once the pain subsided, you caught your breath.

“We’re going to monitor you for a bit. Is there anyone else you’d like to have with you?” the nurse asked.

You glanced at Nick, who was looking back at you with concern in his eyes. “I don’t know. I mean… I have the guys. They’re outside.”

“Let them in if you want,” Nick encouraged. “The more support, the better.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the situation settle in. “Yes, please. I’d like them here.”

The nurse stepped out, and Nick kept talking to you, trying to distract you. “You’re so strong, Y/N. I can’t believe you’re doing this. I’d be a mess if I were in your position.”

“I wish I could say the same for you, but you’re always a mess,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood despite the pain.

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Touché. Just think about how much fun we’re going to have with this little one.”

The door opened again, and in walked Matt and Chris, their expressions a mix of excitement and worry. “How’s it going?” Chris asked, rushing to your side. “What do you need?”

Matt leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath. “You look like you’re handling it like a champ.”

“I don’t feel like a champ!” you exclaimed, another contraction hitting. You cried out, gripping Nick’s hand tighter. “Oh God, I can’t do this!”

“Yes, you can,” Chris said, looking you in the eye. “Just keep focusing on that little guy. You’re almost there.”

The nurse returned, adjusting some monitors as the guys settled in. “You’re doing great, Y/N. We’ll keep you as comfortable as possible. Just breathe, and let us know if you need anything.”

As the contractions continued to come in waves, you focused on the faces around you—Nick’s steady reassurance, Chris’s calming presence, and Matt’s playful banter. It was a whirlwind of chaos and love, and in that moment, you knew you were surrounded by your support system. You weren’t alone; you had them, and together, you were ready to face whatever came next.

After what felt like an eternity, the moment had finally come. The doctor and nurses began preparing for the final stage of labor, and you could feel the excitement mixed with anxiety in the room. Nick, Chris, Matt, and Henry were all right by your side, ready to support you through this monumental moment.

“Alright, Y/N, it’s time to start pushing,” the doctor said, her tone encouraging. “Just remember to breathe and push when you feel the contraction. You’ve got this!”

You nodded, adrenaline surging through you. “Okay, I’m ready,” you said, determination lacing your voice. Nick squeezed your hand tightly, his face a mask of concentration. “You’re going to be amazing, Y/N,” he said, his eyes filled with support.

“On the next contraction, I want you to push as hard as you can,” the nurse instructed, positioning herself at the foot of the bed. “Just keep your focus. We’re almost there!”

As the contraction began, you felt a wave of pressure and instinctively tightened your muscles. “Here we go!” you exclaimed, gritting your teeth as you pushed with all your might.

“Come on, Y/N! You can do it!” Chris cheered, leaning closer to you. “Just like we practiced, right?”

You shot him a glare. “What did we practice, exactly? I don’t remember practicing this part!”

“It’s all about teamwork!” Matt chimed in, chuckling nervously. “We’re right here with you!”

The room filled with the sounds of encouragement and guidance as you continued to push. “Good job, Y/N! Keep going!” the doctor urged. “You’re so close! Just a few more pushes.”

“Just like you can take down a giant slice of pizza!” Henry added with a grin, trying to lighten the mood as he held your hand. “Picture that pizza in front of you. You’ve got this!”

With each push, you felt a mix of exhaustion and hope. You glanced at Nick, who was practically bouncing on his toes, his eyes wide with anticipation. “I can’t wait to meet him!” he said, his excitement palpable.

As the contraction peaked, you bore down again, the intensity taking over. “Push, Y/N! Push!” the nurse encouraged, her voice steady. You grunted, your body working against the pain, feeling every muscle straining as you focused on the task at hand.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the doctor said, “This is your last push, Y/N! Give it everything you’ve got!”

With a deep breath, you steeled yourself. “Okay! One last time!” you shouted, pushing with all your strength. It felt like the world narrowed down to that singular moment, and you poured everything into that final effort.

As the last push came to a close, the sound of a baby crying filled the room, echoing off the walls. You froze, disbelief washing over you. “Did… did he just cry?” you gasped, tears springing to your eyes.

“Yes! You did it, Y/N!” the nurse exclaimed, a warm smile spreading across her face as she carefully took your newborn son and laid him on your chest. The warmth of his tiny body against you sent waves of love crashing over you.

“Oh my God,” you breathed, looking down at your little boy. He was so beautiful, with a tuft of dark hair and tiny fingers grasping at the air. “He’s perfect.”

“Look at him!” Chris exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement. “You did amazing!”

“Best. Baby. Ever,” Matt added, his eyes wide as he admired the tiny bundle.

The nurse quickly cleaned him up, her hands gentle and efficient. “Does anyone want to cut the umbilical cord?” she asked, looking around the room.

“I want to!” Nick said without hesitation, his face lighting up with joy. “Can I do it?”

“Absolutely!” the nurse replied, handing him a pair of sterile scissors. Nick approached the bedside, his hands shaking slightly with excitement. “I can’t believe this is happening right now,” he said, eyes glued to the tiny baby.

“Be careful, Nick!” you joked, unable to suppress a smile through the flood of emotions. “I’m trusting you not to drop him!”

“I’ll be the best cord-cutter ever!” he declared, his voice almost a squeal of excitement.

With the nurses guiding him, Nick carefully positioned the scissors and made the cut, his expression a mixture of awe and concentration. “There! I did it!” he announced, stepping back as the nurses wrapped your baby in a soft blanket.

“Congratulations, everyone!” the nurse said as she placed the baby back on your chest, this time fully bundled. “You did an incredible job, Y/N. You should be so proud.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you cradled your son against you, his little cries softening into gentle coos. “Thank you,” you whispered, overwhelmed by the moment. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re going to be an amazing mom,” Nick said, his eyes shining with pride as he watched you bond with your baby. “Look at how cute he is!”

Matt and Chris crowded closer, their faces filled with wonder. “We’re officially the coolest group now,” Chris said, beaming at the tiny being in your arms.

“Wait until he’s old enough to play basketball!” Matt laughed, already imagining all the fun times ahead. “He’ll be the star of the group!”

“Let’s just hope he inherits your appetite and not your cooking skills,” Henry teased, leaning in to get a better look.

“I think he’s going to be a pro at both!” Nick said, looking between you and the baby with sheer joy.

You couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have such an incredible support system around you. Surrounded by your best friends, you knew that this journey of motherhood was just beginning, and you couldn’t wait to embrace every moment of it.

“Welcome to the world, Landon Nicolas Y/L/N.''

[bloominginsanity]

My dad was able to explain fear and how to work through it so well that I apparently rationalized and created my own coping mechanisms for my OCD and didn't realize I actually had the disorder until I was 30.

No one can touch my room. I sound like a teenager saying this and in college I didn't actually care, but in my teenage years and when living in certain unsafe homes, I would have a goddamn break down if this was not listened to.

My life was high stress at one point, like HIGH STRESS. My brain redirected this to having utter and complete control of my room. One day, while I was at camp, my mom moved a stack of games from one shelf to another because she thought it would look nice. I came back, saw the change, and broke down sobbing, curled in a ball on my floor for twenty minutes. I had to move it back. I then moved it again to the same location later because she was right. It looked better that way. The problem was that I had to be the one to do it.

I knew it would change when I left home and I was right. I didn't care as much. The stress and the danger was gone from my life for the most part so the coping went away too. Fast forward to when I'm 30 and I move back into a high stress environment. My mom borrowed my sewing kit BY ACCIDENT. I was helping her with a craft project and apparently put it in the bag for her to take to work with her. She got back, unloaded it, and I found the kit. Out of order. It was a pretty raggedy thing in a ten-year-old plastic Ziploc with safety scissors and scraps of cloth. I had duct tape on the bag to cover the holes in it. But: The needles were out of order. The scissors were in the needle and stray-thread tin. There was a stray, white thread just floating around.

I stared. I hadn't had a breakdown in ten years. I told myself it was fine. I tapped my fingers on the table. Made a weird noise. Finally muffled a scream. Slammed my fist on the table to get the feeling of STRESS out. It didn't work. My brother asked what was wrong and I told him nothing because I KNEW it wasn't serious. I ended up in a ball on the floor trying not to sob as I told myself it didn't matter.

My mom apologized to me when she found me and I told her she didn't need to and that it wasn't her fault because I knew it wasn't. I was likely the one that had put it in there. I was still crying. It took me FIFTEEN minutes to be able to even look at it and fix it. I tried around ten minutes and I had to look away and stamp my feet to get the horrible feeling out and not cry. I was antsy for the next hour even after I fixed it. It doesn't even bother me to think about it now, four days later, but at the time I wanted to dig my nails into my own skin and make myself bleed just to distract myself from the feeling.

It was just a slightly messy sewing kit.

I never show signs otherwise. I check for my wallet, phone, and keys when I'm out several times but that's not all that odd. I've lost things before and am an expert at finding them. I guess I wash my hands a lot but I have dogs and I don't like getting sick. That's it.

My dad taught me that the repeating voice in my head that tells me everyone finds me annoying isn't real and that if you don't try that you'll never even know otherwise. He taught me how to identify what the fear looked like and what it was and how to call it a liar. Once I knew what to call it and what it was, I knew it was never who *I* was. It was normal to be scared and if other people could fight it then so could I.

[He taught me a lot actually. He taught me how to recognize social queues and what they meant. I got shouted at a lot as a child for not being able to react to them properly even if I saw them. Pretty sure the man is ND in some way and just found a super positive way to cope, which he passed down to me.]

I am still not normal, likely never will be, but I've been told so many times that no one would ever guess that I suppose I slot right in here. I didn't know it was actually called OCD until I was 30 and talking to another friend that had been diagnosed and thought 'that... sounds familiar.'

fuck it. shout out to "high functioning" neurodivergents

the ones who can mask easily, the ones who can get social cues, the ones who have managed to go most of their life not even knowing they were ND because they didn't present as the stereotypical ND person.

the ones who can pay attention in class, understand social etiquette, who understand societial expectations

the ones who don't feel neurodivergent enough bc they don't struggle in the same ways/areas a lot of NDs do, or they can't relate to other NDs' experiences because they always understood these things easily

the ones with high empathy, the ones who DO get the joke, the ones who are constantly told that they can't possibly be neurodivergent because they don't act like what you'd expect a neurodivergent person to act like.

you are neurodivergent enough. you are valid, and so are your experiences. not struggling as much as others do in some places doesn't mean you dont struggle at all. your condition and diagnosis is valid. your symptoms are valid. YOU ARE VALID. not checking all the supposed boxes doesn't mean you aren't neurodivergent. you are enough. you are valid. you are loved. you are valued. you matter. you belong in neurodivergent spaces, you deserve to use whatever resources are available to you, you are allowed to take up space in these communities. and i am so, so proud of you.

feel free to, and actually, i encourage you to reblog this with your experiences. we belong in this community as much as anyone else. please also tag this w/ any neurodivergent conditions i may have forgotten 💙

since this is getting lots of notes I'd like to add, even if you're undiagnosed or maybe self diagnosed, for whatever reason, (i.e. can't get access to a diagnosis, not being taken seriously, or just not wanting an official diagnosis, etc.) this still applies to you. actually especially to you folks. don't think for a second you're not valid just bc you don't have the paperwork or whatever to say it

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Mystery of love

Previously / next chapter

a/n I was not gonna write anymore of this but some of you wanted to read more and fuck do I miss them myself. I will probably go and make a proper series masterlist so it would be easier to navigate through the chapters. Happy reading!🫧

summary: when two lost souls meet at their mutual friend’s party sparks fly, the question is if whatever they feel can actually bloom into something more? But that’s the mystery of love.

warning: toxic ex, arguments

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was one of your college friends' engagement party. As a good friend you were supposed to celebrate her but all you could think of was Noah. The boy with tattoos had managed to slot into your consciousness, taking up a daily spot there. You had stayed up for quite a couple of nights thinking about that almost kiss. About the fact that you had wanted it to happen. Had felt disappointed that it didn’t.

It scrambled with your brain. You had tried to avoid Noah as much as you could but he was relentless. Every day at six sharp he would be parked outside the bookstore waiting for you. “Go away Noah, there’s an Uber on its way to pick me up”, you grunted, pulling your scarf tighter around your neck. “Yes, ma’am that would be me”, he saluted from his car, waving you over. “Don’t you have a job? Anything else to do?”, rolling your eyes you stepped closer. “Oh, I do, one of them is a part-time driver”, he smirked leaning over to open the car door for you.

You always gave in. Blaming his sad and tired eyes. Fearing that your no or a firmer push would send him tumbling down a hill. At least that’s what you told yourself. You weren’t ready to admit that you felt better yourself with him. It all felt better when Noah was around. And while you craved that safety blanket he provided without realizing it, your brain screamed at you for wanting to depend on his comfort.

“Sooo, how are things?”, Emmy pushed a drink over the bar your way, snapping you out of your train of thought. “Things?”, you asked, frowning. She gave you one of those looks before rolling her eyes, “Oh stop it, YN, you can’t fool me, girlie”. Her and Matt. Cause if she wasn’t there to see you and Noah, then Matt happily did a daily report for her. “Are you still going on a trip with Matt?”, you asked, changing the subject. It was a cheap move, but you didn’t want to talk about it. Talking about it made it real. “You’re changing the subject”, Emmy chirped, “that means I’m right”, she wiggled her eyebrows at you.

You scowled at her, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Fine”, you lifted your hands in surrender, “We hung out a couple of times”. You hoped that would cut it but she just looked at you waiting. “And”, she motioned for you to continue. “And nothing, that’s it”, you shrugged. But it wasn’t nothing and deep down you knew it. It had been weird ever since the near kiss you two shared. You had made a big deal out of it. Not to mention that meeting your ex was also the cherry on top. Ex who no doubt had googled who Noah was from the relentless amount of messages he had sent. The times he had come over knocking.

“He’s a sweet guy. I would say pretty distant but he’s a good guy”, Emmy mussed, “We don’t know each other that well, I don’t want to impose but he’s been nothing but kind to me”, she swirled her drink looking at you. “Your judgment is much appreciated”, you tapped her hand in fake appreciation making her push you back slightly as she grunted. A light smile slipped onto your face. Falling immediately when your eyes caught a glimpse of the upper stage. As cold sweat chilled your body. “What’s wrong”, Emmy asked turning back. “Like a fucking rock at the bottom of my shoe”, you grumbled l, turning away in hopes that luck was on your side this time. “I’ll claw his face out”, your best friend pushed the bar stool back, ready to charge over but you clasped her upper arm, “Em, don’t you fucking get close to him, he’s unstable”.

More often than not Noah found himself thinking about the little things you two had done together. It played in a loop in his mind. At night when he couldn’t sleep he would go back, trying to ground himself in the moments he spent with you. Even now, he was supposed to listen to Jolly, which had proven to be harder lately. They were trying to put the cancellation dates in motion. But he had zoned out completely. Feeling the bone-rattling tiredness wash over him.

Dragging himself back to the little coffee not date you two had the other week. “Soo, this place make all the syrups at the house”, you had been referring to a family-owned coffee shop downtown for some time now. The destination was not comfortably reachable after work. Meaning that it would be more of a burden and time waste to go there in rush hours. So you rarely went there. But now Noah was glad that he had chosen to sit in traffic for an hour. The look on your face made it worth it.

You had practically jumped out of the car, reaching for his hand, lacing your fingers through Noah’s and while you didn’t seem to notice, Noah felt as if his whole body was on fire. It felt so right that he could sit down and cry. So he only gripped your hand tighter. “What do you want?”, you looked up at the menu, eyes scanning all the possibilities. But Noah was looking at you, “You pick”, he muttered. “No, Noah…”, you grunted, glancing at him, “Pick, I don’t know what you like, maybe you have allergies or some shit”. But he simply shrugged, before muttering a quick, “I trust you”.

You grunted, shaking your head before smiling at the lady waiting to take your order, “Hey, can I do one cold brew with wiped creme brûlée foam on top and one with your brown sugar almond glaze. Plant-based milk for both. That would be all thank you”, you smiled at her, turning to reach for your purse only to find Noah already paying. “Noah”, you grunted, “That’s…”, but he just chuckled pressing his lips to your temple.

“Okay, tell me what you think”, you two had found a nice table outside, the autumn sun warming your cheeks. Your legs were draped over his thighs, his fingers drawing shapes on your legs as you handed him one drink after the other.

“This one is nice”, Noah tapped at the cup in your hands, “Creme brûlée?”, you raised your eyebrows, taking a sip yourself. “it’s really good, I like them both though”, he hummed in approval. The funny thing was that he couldn’t give two shits for coffee but it seemed like whatever you liked he couldn’t help but enjoy as well. “Well now you know a nice spot for drinks”, you smiled at him, tilting your face towards the sun.

“I’ll know where to get you coffee from”, he corrected you, chuckling when you threw him a death glare he had already learned to love. “Absolutely not”, you protected. “Absolutely yes”, Noah nodded, biting his lip as he watched you. “Noah”, you grunted in warning but he simply shrugged, “I like it when you say my name”, you gasped, pushing his shoulder slightly, “Oh fuck off, you flirt”.

He was smiling to himself when his phone buzzed. Out of second nature, he turned his screen over. Only to tap his screen twice again.

Y/n 🤍: You’re busy?

Y/n 🤍: Sorry, hey

Y/n 🤍: Are you busy?

Noah: Everything’s okay?

He typed out, moving to sit up immediately. A frown creeping onto his face. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his guts.

Y/n 🤍: Can you ask Matt to check his phone.

“Matt”, Noah called out immediately, “Check your phone, dude”. He was up and walking towards the soundproofed booth. Fingers moving over the keyboard.

Noah: What’s going on Yn?

He watched the little three dots pending before disappearing. “Fuck”, Matt grunted, pulling his headset off. “What’s going on?”, Noah leaned against the door, watching his friend scrambling for his things. Matt halted for a moment as if calculating his next words. They never left a meeting unless something absolutely important happened. If Matt was up and ready to go that meant that Noah’s gut feeling was right.

“Yn ex is at the bar they are in”, nine words were enough to make Noah’s brain both shut down and restart again. He turned himself, reaching for his stuff before turning back, “I’m going with you”. “Noah”, Matt shook his head in disapproval. “I’ve met the dick already, let’s go”, Noah motioned for Matt to go to the doors. “Do you maybe want to enlighten us too?”, Jolly called out, arms crossed over his chest. “Man this is some serious shit”, Matt shook his head. This all could get real messy, Noah was more than aware of it. “We’ll talk about it, give me time”, Noah promised before, walking out the studio door.

“I’m not going anywhere with you”, you pulled at Dan’s hand firmly. Trying to get away from him after having to take the heated conversation outside. The last thing you wanted was to make a scene. “Stop fucking fighting”, he gripped tightly, pulling your arm further up, making you wince in pain. “Let go you asshole”, Emmy huffed, throwing her heel at him. Hitting him square in his head. You would have laughed honestly if it wasn’t the fact that his grip only got firmer.

“Back off bitch”, he snarled at Emmy, stepping forward to spook her. “Em”, a voice sounded behind you, you watched as Emmy nearly sagged in relief against the damp brick wall, “Matty”, she called out and even your body washed over with relief. One that was short-lived as Dan’s hand wrapped around your middle pushing you forward, “Come here”, he mused against your ear making your body shiver in disgust.

“Man let her go or I won’t be responsible for my next move”, you felt like crying in that moment when realization finally hit you. Matt didn’t come alone. “Noah…”, you whispered, turning your head to see his angry face. You weren’t sure if you felt happy or embarrassed then. You didn’t want him to see this. Didn’t want him to know about your past poor choices.

“We got back together man, so mind your business”, Dan cupped the side of your face, pressing his lips to your cheek. Your palm found his face then pushed him further back, as you grunted, “We did not”. “Let go or I will break your hand”, Noah stepped closer, he was way taller than Dan. Quite frankly all Dan had was a fancy suit and sparkly watch to hide behind. “Security is on its way Daniel”, Matt called out, Emmy standing behind his back, one of his hands making sure she stayed exactly there, “Your choice man. Walk away or ride in the back of a police car”.

Dan watched you all for a moment. And if not for the back doors creaking you knew that he wouldn’t have let go. “Fuck you”, he spat towards Matt, pushing you forward as he flipped you all off. “Not my first time with you, dick”, Matt threw back at him. Noah’s arms reached for you instantly but you caught his wrist, keeping his body away from yours. “I want to get out of here”, you muttered. “That’s what we will do”, Noah promised, trying to look you over. “I’ve got her”, Emmy muttered, wrapping her arm around your shoulders, and throwing Noah an apologetic look. He wanted to be the one to comfort you but he knew that there was a limit to how far you were willing to let him in and Noah had a feeling that two run-ins with your ex had maxed it out.

He watched you through the rearview mirror the whole way back to their house. Watch that cold mask of indifference slowly replace the genuine fear he had seen moments ago. So he wasn’t all that surprised when you had thrown Emmy a smile after stepping out of the car. “Come on, we’re sharing a room”, Emmy tugged at your hand but you instantly pulled back. “I’m going home, Em’s, you all go inside”, you muttered, squeezing your friend's hand. “Yn, they don’t mind. Tell her Matt”, she turned her pleading eyes on her boyfriend. “I said it more than once, YN, our place is your place”, Matt hummed in approval. Making Noah frown slightly. He had a feeling that Matt knew more. Had been involved in all of this somehow. The question was how deep it ran. “I appreciate it but I rather go home”, you smiled politely. “I’ll drive you back”, Noah cut in, “I was gonna pop into the city anyway”.

You wanted to protest but Emmy cut you off, “At least drive with Noah, I would be much calmer knowing that he dropped you off”, so you simply nodded. Not having enough energy to fight anyone on anything. “You don’t have plans in the city do you”, you asked glancing out of the window once Noah had started his car. “I don’t”, he admitted. You simply nodded at his answer, wrapping your arms around yourself.

And it had been fine. You had managed to keep it wrapped up till he offered to walk you up the stairs. Waiting for you to unlock your door as he leaned against the side wall. Your hand halted as you pushed the key through. It was one look at him. The look of concern in his eyes. It was the silence he left between you too. Not pushing to fill it in. Leaving it there as an option for you. A chance to speak up if you wanted to.

Your shoulders quivered as you clasped your hand over your mouth, trying to silence the sob that slipped past your lips. Noah pushed back from the wall instantly. Offering his hand but not pushing his embrace upon you. Giving you a chance to choose this. Choose him.

You turned to him. Arms reaching for his neck as you pushed your body against his. Feeling a tremble run through your chest. “I’m here”, Noah muttered, “Let it out”. His hands moved up and down your back, as he soothed you. “I’m so scared”, you crocked out, “He…”, you shook your head. Eyes burning from tears. “He’s a dead man walking”, Noah cupped your face, “He will not get to you, I won’t let him”, he nodded and you followed his action. “Stay”, you pleaded, holding onto his upper arms as you pressed your face against his chest. “I wasn’t going anywhere, love, might have napped outside your door if you hadn’t invited me in”, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, “Let’s get you inside. Marsh is probably demanding to be fed anyway”, taking the keys out of your hands Noah, unlocked them, pulling the door open before ushering you inside.

•••••••••••••

@broken0mens @supersquirrel1996

[hell-drabbles]

Beleth 1

Summary: After a fight cut short with a random devil that thought you nothing more than a pest, you take a break outside the club. Beleth joins you and offers to have you bite into his skin to get the stress out.

(Fingers decided to write about Beleth instead. So I did. Here be the Companion biting Beleth! Also I just figured out that apparently Beleth and his king are fallen angels? I could be wrong but oh well. Here you go.)

There was this… specific closeness you felt towards Beleth. An understanding, if you will.

Something, whenever you two end up alone in any sort of area, the air between you two never fails to remind you of those late night hours behind a bar club. Where you're all tired from the atmosphere, and just need a moment of quiet where you can recharge, and someone comes out to do the exact same thing.

A kinship. Yeah that's what it was. You felt a kinship towards Beleth, with both of you caring for someone that can barely take care of themselves.

It's why it didn't tick you off when Beleth walked into your break spot in the alleyway. He's another person that pays attention to Ra-on, certainly, but there was this lack of visible and verbal annoyance at your being. You're just another person, as far as he's concerned, and that's enough to keep your temper even.

While you sat on the ground, just taking in the sky, Beleth took up position near you, also looking up with you. He fished for his box of cigarettes and popped out one. He grabbed it with his lips, flicked open his lighter and lit it up. He took one deep breath in, then out.

From the corner of your eye, Beleth inclined his head towards you.

"Want one?" Beleth leaned down, tapping the open box against your shoulder.

To be quite honest, you were a little tempted to take a drag. It's been a long day, the battle before had tensions high and the devils inside the club wanted nothing more than to dance, drink and fuck the feelings away. And not only that, but you had just come out of a fight with a random devil that said, "Aren't you glad I got that pest off of you, Solomon?"

He got a full wine bottle to the face, and the ensuing noise got all the other devils riled up enough to beating at one another. Well, at least they're having fun, and you got to avoid facing the full brunt of that devil's strength. And having Ra-on skitter right behind you certainly helped in having him hold back. Your ribs are still throbbing, however. Damn devils and their damned power.

"Quite a fight you started in there. Everyone's rowdy, having the time of their lives I bet." Beleth said with a breath of smoke slowly trickling out of his lips.

"Mm-hmm," you replied, because what else are you supposed to say? Are you supposed to be proud of it? That you started yet another fight because you can't stand to let words slide?

"But hey, that anger of yours, it's going to get ya into a lot of trouble." Like you're already not in trouble? "I'm not complainin', I reckon it's something you need to do to stay sane, given how you are, but that doesn't mean it make you safe."

"…tell me something I don't know." You were hoping he wouldn't dive into that subject. You know it's reckless. You know you can't keep this up and rely on luck to save the day once again. But you're just too stubborn. Besides, you know that the minute you go lax is the day you'll lose Ra-on forever. This stubbornness is exactly why Ra-on's been learning to say no more and more often.

"I know you got injured somethin' fierce the other day. You're still walkin' like you have a stitch in your side. And that fight you got into? Can't say it's made you any better. It's got me worried, ya know? Especially since pain just makes you angrier."

You gave a sigh, right from the bottom of your lungs. First Ra-on--whom you were barely able to divert his attention--and now Beleth? And you're pretty sure that changing the subject won't work on him.

Alright. Fine.

"So, I should just shut up them? Is that what you're telling me, Beleth?" Are you supposed to shut your mouth forever? Swallow down all your pride and anger and just take it until the situation in Hell is solved?

"Get angry at me. I won't kiss and tell."

"…really?" That's his solution?

"Yeah. Yell and scream until your heart gives out. I'll listen to your howls any day of the week. Just say the word, I'll try and be there for you, Sugar."

"That's not gonna solve shit. Don't call me Sugar." You still have to shut your mouth and behave.

"Sorry there, but it's the best I've got. You're human, right? Just gather up all that anger, call me up, and give it to me in one go. And who knows? Maybe I'll take care of some of the problem devils that have been tying you up in knots? Besides, it's better than nothing, right?"

"Stay quiet." You're too tired, too burnt out for this.

"Alright, alright."

When silence settled between the both of you, you adjusted yourself, positioning in such a way that doesn't put pressure on your ribs.

"Hey, I wanna ask you a question." Beleth suddenly says, flicking ash on the ground with a relaxed curve to his back, smiling at you with a tilt to his head.

"Hmm, shoot." What does he want now?

"Wanna make out?" He popped open another button on his shirt, letting the flaps fall open as though to entice you into taking his offer.

"No." It didn't work.

Beleth shrugged, as though very much expecting it. "Hey, worth a try."

He didn't bother closing his shirt. Instead, he completely undid his buttons and untucked his shirt. Once he was done, he leaned against the wall you were sitting against, took a slow drag in, then breathed it out. The wind took the smoke away from you.

Beleth turned to you and smiled. He tapped one of the various bite marks on his arm. "Wanna sink your teeth into my skin, then? You can pick any place you want. Even," he parted his shirt, letting the rays of the dying sun hit his well bitten chest, "here. I know you won't hold back."

"…you're really bored aren't you?"

"Hey, can ya blame me for wantin' to fill up my time? Smokin' always gets me in a certain mood."

And he smokes all the damn time, so what does that say? You're both creatures of rather bad habits.

…besides you may as well get a bite in. You've been grinding your teeth anyway.

"…you know what, yeah, fine." You stood up and patted dirt off your pants. "Let me just drag a seat or something out here. I'll have you sitting on my lap for this."

The cigarette hung between Beleth's fingers as he exposed his neck, gazing up at the sky as you dug your hands into his thin waist. You smoothed your lips over the raised skin of his scar, just taking a moment to enjoy both the different textures and way Beleth's throat bobbed with his swallow.

"That's a talented pair of lips you got there," you can hear the smile in the way he wistfully sighed, "Ya really know how to rile a devil up, huh? Taking your sweet time with me like this. Didn't ya want just a bite?"

Beleth jumped in your lap when you took a small nip, then pulled back. You looked at him square in the eyes, at that lightly flushed face, parted lips, and small annoyed crease in his brows.

"I like messing with you." Plain and simple. Beleth, to the rest of the masses, was this unshakable fallen angel that can never be pushed into the territory of annoyance. Never bothered, no matter how chaos rains around him. A near endless patience that even stretches to you. You can take your time. You trust that something won't snap in him.

Beleth chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. His hand slid down the back of your neck and guided you to his.

"Careful there, Sugar. Language like that'll get ya--"

You opened your mouth and let your teeth bite.

Stones ground underneath Beleth's shoes as he curled his legs in, his grip sliding down to clutch the back of your shirt instead. The muscles underneath your tongue tightened, Beleth's bare chest shivered against your own, and he dropped his cigarette in favor of squeezing your knee.

"Haha--" Beleth tried to get a laugh out, but the next sinking of your teeth had that quickly die into a hiss. "When you bite you really--haa--bite."

It's nice, watching the blood trickle down from the open wounds, trailing down his heaving chest and getting absorbed into the band of his straining underwear.

"Mm-hmm, like you said, I don't hold back."

"Haha, and neither," Beleth grasped his shirt and ripped it into scrapes of cloth, leaving him bare before you, "do I."

[act-like-anangel]

I don’t know what just happened

All i know was that i was looking at Batfam and PK civ and PVP civ fanart

next thing i know i’m wondering about what would happen if the batfam met either of the Evbos cause from what know, PVP Evbo is prob around 16-18 i think and PK Evbo is prob around the same age maybe a little older.

How would the Batfam react to PVP Evbo having to die over and over again, being farmed like an animal for his sword? We don’t even know the actual timeframe for how long he was being tortured and killed, for all we know he could’ve been there for a month or two just dying over and over again, barely being fed enough to live but not enough to stave off the hunger. Having to be the ‘chosen one’ for people who don’t even care about you, who see you as a tool, not a human with real feelings.

How would the Batfam react to PVP Evbo only knowing violence from the start of his existance to now, because that’s all his world runs on, barely blinking when he has to kill someone because of how normalised it is. He also deadass could’ve dropped his sword whenever he needed to be farmed but just decided to be killed anyways??

Having to live in a civilization where he has to pay for bare necessities with his life, living with the knowledge of when exactly he’ll die.

How would the Batfam react to PK Evbo who was put on the Noob level who had to do parkour for the barest amount of food, the food being RAW chicken. or a piece of RAW beef. Not having enough food to even sprint or run but still having to jump precisely from block to block or else he’d fall into the void. Only having one neighbour left because all his other ones had died, and even that one is gone now too. How would they react to him being surprised at the idea of cooked food at the Pro level not to mention actually being able to eat it.

How would they react to Evbo barely having any time to relax in the Pro level before being challenged to a battle where he could DIE and having a totem given to him and the task of ranking up again thrust onto him. Literally dying and coming back to life after dying from fall damage which definitely hurt. Ranking up to a master, meeting Seawatt and finding out that his earliest memories were fake. He never even had any friends.

Being drugged and sent to fight the champion right after waking up and having to kill people in a parkour battle and ending up losing anyways, their lives and deaths being in vain. Being given the boots of his old mentor and having to immediately go and beat a tyrant after just waking up from what he thought was his death. Winning and having to take the responsibilities and make all the needed changes to civilization because who else knows it better than him when he’s been a Noob, a Pro, a Master and now a Champion.

Jumping into the void just hoping he won’t die, finding out his best friend has gone missing with no knowledge about wether or not he’s alive. How would they react to him being manipulated and tricked into doing several courses and going through the glass and crystal courses, sharpness of both making itself known to his hand. Going back and having to immediately do the neo course. Going to the parkour temple to end up having to follow in with the plan of destroying civilization because if he doesn’t his best friend will die.

How would they react to him having his rank stolen and having to save his friend before going to the altar of the Parkour God and jumping in the void hoping again that this wouldn’t be for nothing. Having to face the mentor who he knows is the reason for all of this, the person who separated innocent people from the rest of civilization for the action of one man. Letting them die out.

Having to fail another jump and again hoping that it wouldn’t be for nothing. Going back to his civilization that he was supposed to protect and seeing what the villain has done to it. Seeing his people’s empty cells knowing it’s empty cause they’re dead. Going to the master level and having to kill one of his own citizens because they’re so scared of the villain and what he would do to them if they didn’t listen. Going to the top with the knowledge that he’d probably die soon by the Villain using the command blocks to auto-kill him, having his hope ignited once he realises he has to do a parkour race instead, confident in himself before that confidence and hope is gone as fast as it came.

Jumping into the void again, waking up thinking he’s dead, finding out that he’s inheriting the powers of the Parkour God. Beating the villain and sitting with the knowledge that he’s god now. He doesn’t have to do anything anymore.

How would the Batfam react to that? A boy who knows too much, has done too much, and gone through too much.

[wordsofelie]

Chapter 8

🌅Don’t you dare run away (A Phoenix and Ashes Sequel)

Miya Osamu x f!reader

Summary: Miya Osamu thinks some things will never change— Atsumu will always be annoying; his Ma’s food will always be the best and you will always be his favourite sunrise.

Content Warnings: Timeskip Setting, Manga Spoilers, ex!Suna, Swearing

Words count: 5k

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7

Osamu doesn’t talk about what happened.

The main reason is that he wants to believe it was only a one-time thing. You were simply surprised to see your ex after who knows how many months or years; your relationship with Osamu is only starting even though you’ve known each other for a long time. Osamu wants to respect your boundaries; he wants to give you the time you need to get used to this new life. He’ll be patient (for once, his mother would say).

But that one-time thing lasts longer than expected.

Four months pass, you’re well settled in Tokyo, well integrated into your new team and Osamu has become a regular on the Omiya-Shin Osaka shinkansen line. He alternates between his shop in Osaka, where he has taken on a new full-time manager (Sato and Nagisa love her), and his new premises in Tokyo, which are still in the restoration phase. Osamu opted for a smaller place close to a university and a business district (strangely close to Akaashi's offices), the goal being to focus on takeaway food rather than a familial restaurant. Kita is getting ready to supply twice more rice and he’s just waiting for his former teammate to open the new shop.

By the time the Olympics end, everyone is aware that you’re dating. Bokuto couldn’t help but tell Hinata and Akaashi, Hinata couldn’t resist sharing the news with Kageyama during their game against Argentina, claiming it just slipped. And, from there, the secret practically ran itself through the team. By the time it got to Atsumu, he’d almost passed out from shock. The setter had cornered Osamu one evening. “Are ya serious? My own twin, my own flesh ‘n blood, and ya didn’t even tell me?”

But as soon as he finished his tirade, he sighed heavily and clasped Osamu on the shoulder. “Ya know, ‘Samu, I’m glad it’s ya though. She deserves it. Just... don’t mess it up, alright?”

And Osamu promised he wouldn’t. They went out to have dinner that night and Atsumu’s eyes got wet when the waiter served the plates.

“Yer leavin’ me again,” he whines to his twin.

Osamu groaned, “Stop bein’ such a crybaby for fuck’s sake. How am I supposed to beat ya if I get stuck in the same place? It’s like we're runnin’ a race but with our shoelaces tied together. One of us has to get past the other.” Because it sounded too serious, or maybe because his eyes also got wet, Osamu stretched out his arm on the chair and his voice turned to tease mode again, “and I guess, I'm just better with women than ya.”

Atsumu got mad and they acted like themselves again, as if nothing happened, as if they weren't on the verge of tears at the idea of being away from each other. 

His mother, of course, was over the moon. She’d even sent a few of your favourite treats because according to her, this announcement warranted a full family celebration. “We always hoped, ya know,” she’d told Osamu with a soft smile, “that you’d end up with someone just like her. Maybe even her, actually.” She winked, and before Osamu could stop her, she was already planning the next family gathering (and a wedding.)

No need to mention Umi who was the first to know. Osamu received a text from her early one morning, saying how happy she was for you and hinting at his potential murder if he ever broke your heart. He didn’t know whether to laugh or hide.

The only person still completely out of the loop remains Suna.

For some reason, the thought doesn’t worry Osamu. Wordlessly, you both agreed to let things settle naturally. It’s only a matter of time before you tell him, or at least, that’s what Osamu believes.

But it’s now almost November and the guys from Inarizaki High have organised a team reunion in Tokyo when Osamu officially opens his new restaurant. Your boyfriend tries to ignore the feeling, but it does sting when you seem to avoid his gaze whenever Suna is nearby. At some point in the night, Gin—who’s the only other person not aware of your situation—wraps his arm around Osamu’s shoulder and asks him, “So, what about you, man? Got anyone special?”

Osamu pauses, his hand lingers just a little too long on his glass. He catches your eye across the table, but you look away. Something twists in his chest.

That evening, you fight for the time.

When you return home, Osamu is quieter than usual, barely meeting your eyes.

“Are you mad?” you ask, watching him from the doorway as he sits on the edge of the bed, hands in his lap.

But he doesn’t look up. “That you acted as if I didn’t exist in front of yer ex, again? Huh, nah.”

You move closer to him. “Osamu…”

“Look, it’s fine,” he replies, and it breaks his heart not to look at your face. You’re probably hurt right now, but if he lands his eyes on you, he will probably just want to apologise and kiss your lips and your eyes and your cheeks to make the sadness go away, “I’m just tired.”

“Let’s talk about it.”

He huffs a sigh through his nose, “I said it’s fine.”

Then he gets up, his back is facing you now. Osamu feels his blood rushing through his veins, both out of frustration and guilt, “I get it if yer disappointed in this relationship.”

The words cut deeper than either of you expected, and for a second, you stay silent. A bitter laugh leaves your mouth.

“Disappointed? You’re not the one who’s felt neglected these past few weeks,” you reply, and your voice raises just slightly higher. “Whether you’re in Osaka or here, it’s like I barely exist to you. I mean, at least when we were just friends, I felt like I had some part of you. Now… I don’t know, Osamu...”

Your shoulders slouch and your brows furrow. When he takes a glimpse at you, the frustration is fully replaced by guilt. 

“My love…” he begins, reaching for you, but you cover your stomach as if to shield yourself from him.

“No, I… I guess I should’ve seen it coming. Maybe it was a stupid idea to let you follow me to Tokyo. I was selfish. And if you want to leave me, I understand-”

Miya Osamu has heard some stupid things in the past (especially coming out of his brother’s mouth), but leaving you has to be the craziest one. How in the world could he want someone else other than you? Now that he had a taste of what it’s like to be by your side, how could he ever think of leaving?

It’s been a decade, ten full years, that Osamu has been watching you from the sidelines. He saw you being almost chosen, half-loved by Suna. He watched you break and then pick yourself up before falling into the arms of your good-for-nothing ex again. It was unfair, it was infuriating to see you look at him with stars in your eyes when you obviously deserved so much more—the whole universe even. And then, without trying, he fell head over heels for you. He started yearning after you, desired to be the one you go home to every day, the one who makes your heart flip in your chest.

Now, in all modesty, Osamu can say he is no longer on the sidelines; he’s with you and he’s yours.

But words aren’t enough thus, he moves toward you, so quickly that it startles you. His hands find your neck delicately, his fingers get tangled in your hair and before you can pull away, he says, “Hey, I’m not goin’ anywhere. Ya understand? Yer it for me.”

You can’t help the tears that well up in your eyes. “But I don’t want to be a burden,” you respond in a murmur. “You work so hard, and I’m so proud of you. I don’t want to be just one more thing you have to worry about.”

“But that’s exactly my role.” His forehead meets yours, “listen here, sweetheart, I would burn down the restaurant for ya.”

“But I don’t want that.” He makes you smile wide through your tears.

“No, me neither.” He chuckles but after, his voice softens, “What I mean is that startin’ today and for all the days that come, yer the one I’ll choose over everything. If I had to relive my life, I’d choose ya again and again, I’d probably choose ya earlier. Please, now tell me when something is wrong because nothing could ever make me fall outta love for ya. I’m not him.”

You put your hand over his, and squeeze tightly, “And I don’t want anything else, Osamu. Just you.”

“Then that’s what ya got. And promise me one thing.”

You nod and he brushes a tear from your cheek. “Anything.”

“Let’s just tell each other when something’s wrong. It’s shit to argue like that. I’m sorry if ya felt like I wasn’t here enough, I’ll make it up ya, okay?”

Your arms wrap around him tightly, as if letting go would make all of this disappear. “You don’t have to, I didn’t mean what I said… I was just hurt, and I guess, I just miss you. We don’t see each other as much those days, but I know it’s for the better. As for Rin,” you look up at him and Osamu realises he forgot what the argument was about in the first place. He gulps loudly. “I’ll tell him, soon. But I just need a bit more time. I guess I'm just worry it'll make things awkward between you too...”

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Take all the time ya need. And ya know, we're grown men, okay? No one’s gonna punch the other... he’d get hurt anyway.”

You laugh, (and avoid reminding him that Suna Rintarou is a professional athlete, probably for the sake of his ego) and only hug him more.

Feeling your skin against his as you slip under the sheets, is the only thing that matters now. You chose him, not Suna, and the thought is enough to make his whole body shiver.

You fall asleep first and Osamu, in an unusual moment of gratitude, wants to thank the gods for being able to see your pretty face everyday. Make it last forever, he wishes to ask them. When he closes his eyes later, he is convinced that they heard him.

The gods are funny entities. Maybe they did hear him and maybe they’re trying to impulse your relationship on the right path.

At least, that’s the conclusion your boyfriend comes up with when on a calm Saturday morning, as he is making breakfast while you’re taking a shower, someone knocks at the door.

Osamu sets down the bowl of batter he is holding, turns off the stove to prevent the baking pancakes from burning, and walks to the door.

The door swings open, and he has to take a step back in surprise when one Suna Rintarou appears in front of him.

“My mum wanted to give you – Osamu?”

Both men seem to be equally surprised. Osamu tries to hide his displeasure. He just wanted to spend a quiet morning with you, eating breakfast and cuddling, so why the hell is your ex in front of him right now?

“Oh Suna, hi… hm…”

“Dearest are you-” your voice chimes in but stops as fast. “Rin?”

Osamu widens his eyes and looks at you, he scratches the back of his neck nervously. “I’m- hm- thank you for letting me sleep here yesterday. I’ll leave now.”

His excuse doesn’t seem to ease Suna’s doubts as the man with his usual sharp-eyed self, throws Osamu a side-eye. But soon enough, his attention falls on you and he crosses his arms, waiting for an explanation.

Osamu’s face swings from you to him a few times. It’s clear that you’re speaking to each other without words. Whatever space he takes in your heart now, Suna has been here before and the string that once led you to him could never truly be severed.

“Osamu lives here.” You take his hand, “we are dating.”

There’s a long silence. It’s awkward and heavy. Osamu suddenly wants to pinch his arm, hoping none of this is happening. The man understands why you kept putting this moment off for so long.

But you’re brave enough to continue, “Did you come here for something?”

“My mum found that bracelet you lost.” He takes the jewellery out of his pocket. It’s discreet but Osamu and Suna gazes meet, probably to prove to your boyfriend that he didn’t just come to see you out of the blue.

You take the bracelet from his hand, thanking him a several times and claiming you were still hoping to find it, even after all those years.

“Please Rin, enter.” 

Suna is quick to take his shoes off and step into your living room, “She also baked you this.”

Your eyes shine when you see the box he is handing you, “Auntie’s cookies? Gosh, they’re the best. I’ll warm them up.”

You turn to your boyfriend with a smile. “I can’t wait for you to try them.”

Osamu clears his throat, “Yeah, me too…D’ya want a cup of coffee or-”

“I’m fine,” Suna replies with nonchalance as he passes past Osamu to follow you in the kitchen. The latter has to hold back a groan. It’s a good thing he started meditation because right now, he really needs to keep his calm.

Suna only looks at you as the three of you stand in the kitchen, waiting for the cookies to be savoured, “my mum didn’t put any peanuts in the cookies, you still think it tastes like soap, right?”

Osamu raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, I do, it’s so considerate of her.” You give Suna a cup of tea.

“Lemon tea, my favourite, you remember.”

You smile gently at him in response, but Osamu can see that your lips tug into a thin line after. Suna is acting out of character, and it’s confusing you as well as your boyfriend.  

“Angel,” Osamu starts and from the corner of his eyes, he can see Suna’s shoulders tense. “I also made pancakes; we can share it together if ya want. I went to the market this morning to buy raspberries. I’m sorry, I know ya love blueberries more but- ”

“She prefers strawberries.” The middle blocker mumbles, though it’s unmistakably aimed at reaching Osamu’s ears.

“Wait, wait, guys, what are you doing?”

The boys look at each other and just when they both open their mouths, ready to justify their actions, your phone rings.

“I have to take this, it’s for work – Hi Kuroo-senpai.” You say as you escape to your bedroom.

Osamu wishes he could follow you, but instead, he sighs. He, who waited all week to spend this morning with you, now wants it to be over.

He turns to Suna, but your ex doesn’t move even with those two eyes staring at him, as if deadpan. He’s not going to talk first and Osamu summons up all its courage to start the conversation.

“Listen man I-”

“I’m not really surprised.”

Osamu blinks a few times.

“You guys always had that weird relationship. Ever since high school, I tried to keep her away from you, when we used to walk home together, she wanted to wait for you, but I often said you wanted to stay to practice more. I never told her that but when I moved to Hiroshima and she started spending all her days with you, I hated it. I tried hanging out with girls to make her jealous-”

“That’s a shitty move.”

“Oh, shut up, we were nineteen.” Suna’s voice sounds frustrated, it’s a first, Osamu thinks. He never saw that look on his face before, even when they shared defeats together. Maybe, he did truly love you? “And I regretted acting like that… anyway, she dumped me in the end. I guess that’s what you call karma.”

“Yer the one who dumped her first.”

He rolls his eyes in response, “I know. Biggest mistake of my life. But I’ve moved on now. I’ll go.”

Osamu is taken aback by his last words but realises he heard it right when Suna makes his way to the genkan again.

“Dontcha wanna wait til her call is finished?”

“You want me to stay?”

Osamu hesitates and it makes Suna chuckle. 

Once he’s done putting his shoes on, he looks behind his shoulder at his former teammate.

“You’re a lucky man, don’t you dare run away.”

A warm feeling spreads through his stomach, and something clicks in his brain as if he just remembered a happy memory from his childhood. He has no idea when and where, but Osamu feels like he heard those words before. Maybe from a dream.

“I won’t. I really love her.”

“The first match of the season is next week, I’m playing against Atsumu, if you guys want to come.”

“We will.”

“Don’t be jealous if she supports me though,” Suna smirks slightly and it pisses off the other man who can’t help but grin wider.

“Ya? Against the team she works for. When her brother-in-law is playin’, I didn’t know ya were so delusional dude.”

“Brother-in-law.” Suna laughs, but it’s scornful this time, “Don’t act like you’re engaged man. I’m going now, see you.”

This is the last thing Suna says before he gets out of your shared apartment.  

Engaged?

For the second time, a warm feeling hits him. It feels good, even if the thought sends a rush of nerves along with it. He doesn’t have the time to analyse it because you go out of the bedroom and scan the kitchen.

“He left,” Osamu explains as he wraps his arms around your waist. His nose finds your neck, breathing in your scent as if you’d been gone far too long—as if he’d been waiting for ages to feel you again.

“What was that about?”

He knows exactly how you’re looking at him right now, he doesn’t even need to meet your eyes. That's why, instead, he stays nestled in the crook of your neck, pretending to be oblivious.

“Hm?”

“With Rin?”

“Suna.”

“Rin.”

He clicks his tongue and finally looks at you, “Rintarou.”

“Alright, with Rintarou.” You’re holding back your laughter at his childish jealousy, “Why were you acting all ‘I know her more’ like two prepubescent teens?”

Your impression of him only makes you look cuter. His fingers trace light circles against your waist and with a side smile, he replies, “What can I do? I’m a weak man sweetheart, I love ya so much.”

“I love you too.” You kiss his cheek and just when you’re about to get away from his grip, he pulls you closer, “I have to work a little bit.”

“But it’s Saturday.” He pouts.

“Kuroo needs me for a project,” your phone rings again. Before you can reach it, Osamu puts his hands under the back of your thighs and lifts you.

“Osamu, put me down, I need to take this call.”

“Mister bedhair can wait.”

“That’s rude.”

“But I wanna take care of ya.”

He starts kissing your neck once you’re sat on the counter. You don’t stop him.

You spend your first Christmas as a couple at his parents’ house. You insist on helping his mother prepare dinner, pushing Osamu away every time he dares sneaking into the kitchen to ensure everything is going fine. “It’s better to fry the chicken like that,” he says, or “I’d recommend a pinch more salt in those mashed potatoes.”

Finally, his mother sighs and shoos him away. “Osamu, let her breathe, for gods' sake!”

You can’t help but grin as you catch his eye, pleased to have his Ma’ on your side.

The dinner is great. Your relationship with his mother is clearly turning into an effortless connection. So, when dessert is served, and she starts telling you awkward moments of his childhood, that Osamu would rather leave forgotten, the man eventually excuses himself to “go to the restroom.” (Even if you both know he’s just escaping the spotlight.)

As he wanders down the hallway, Osamu glances into his old bedroom and spots Atsumu fiddling with an old suit. “Ya don’t want dessert?”

“Am on a diet,” his twin says.

“What’re ya doin’?”                           

“Am tryin’ on one of Pa’s suits. Got Meian’s wedding next week.” He gives the blazer a tug to smooth it out.

Osamu leans against the doorframe, “Didn’t ya just buy a new one like a month ago?”

“Yeah but…” The blond grins as his gaze meets his brother’s reflection in the mirror, “I’d rather keep the new one for yer wedding.”

Osamu is left speechless; he doesn’t even try to contradict the setter—why would he anyway? Wedding isn’t something the man even thought about in the past, but when it comes to you, it seems evident, right—like something he didn’t know he’d wanted all along blossoms in him. He can’t pinpoint why, but loving you always feels new, like he’s constantly discovering pieces of his heart he hadn’t known were there. He’s so in love, and maybe this love does deserve a proper ceremony.

The idea doesn’t leave his mind, even as you’re on the doorstep, ready to go home. You’re bidding goodbye to Atsumu when his mother tells him to drive safely.

“Ma’?” He tries to pipe up with confidence, but his mother discerns his discomfort with ease, “Would ya…I mean- d’ya still have yer mother’s ring?”

A smile blooms on her lips, it’s almost as wide as when she congratulated them for winning the Nationals a few years back. In a subtle move, she disappears inside and comes back with a bag.

“She would have adored her,” she simply declares in a murmur and it’s enough to create a wave of emotions in the man’s heart—sadness, nostalgia, pride, and above everything else, happiness.

So he takes the bag claiming later that inside his mother put “her favourite cooking book”, when you ask what she gave him. He’s not lying though, the older lady did put a cooking book in the bag, to avoid arousing suspicion, but what you don’t know is that it is accompanied by a small, black box tucked discreetly at the bottom, and that it contains a delicate gold ring. Later that night, before going to bed, Osamu opens the box in the soft light of your bedroom lamp. The ring is beautiful, but it’s also intimidating, even for a guy who has never shied away from a challenge. He’ll ask you one day, but it’ll take courage, more than he’s ready to muster right now (a little voice inside of his brain also wonders what he’ll do if you reject him).

For now, he’ll keep it safe, hiding in his nightstand, under an Onigiri Miya cap (you never asked questions on why there was a cap in there, much to Osamu's relief), so it’s close enough to reach whenever he finds himself ready to shut down the little voice. It's easier said than done, but someday—he hopes—he’ll find the right time to make it real.

And just like that a year passes and the box remains hidden.

It’s winter again when Osamu decides that if he doesn’t do it now, he’ll just keep on delaying the moment. He’s in Osaka for work when he calls to ask you to spend the weekend with him in Hyogo. You are quick to say yes and buy the train ticket.

The cogs can be set in motion and the first knot in his stomach releases.

You arrive the next morning with a packet full of cannelés to offer Sato, Nagisa and Tano, their new manager. Everyone’s excited at trying the pastries but Osamu refuses to try one.

“We should go,” he informs you and takes your hand. You’re confused but follow him inside the car anyway.

The three other employees’ wave at you with wide smiles, it’s a good thing that their enthusiasm to see you leave doesn’t alarm you. Only Osamu knows why they’re so eager to see their boss get out of here, after all, they know what he’s about to do since they have been his trusted confidants this past week. In truth, Osamu has been practising his speech for days, first with Tano, the calmest of the three, who listened quietly as Osamu stumbled through his words. And then with the other two, who were more than happy to help him prepare for the big moment, his private rehearsal quickly turned into a bit of a group affair. They even spent the entire morning insisting that never in a million years you will refuse his proposal.

You spend the first twenty minutes of the ride trying to guess where you are going.

“Kobe?” You first ask, “Or Kyoto? Oh, that would be so nice, I’ve not been in Kyoto in ages.”

You seem convinced that it will be a city, but instead, he drives you to the countryside.

The road becomes familiar, Osamu can see in your eyes that you’re starting to recognize the landscapes; the fields of rice or matcha or flowers (he still doesn’t know which one it is, even in the daylight).

“Are we going to Kita’s farm?” You finally figure. “Don't tell me, I know it is Kita's farm. See, told you I’d guessed.”

You look so sure of yourself, cute, he thinks, and it makes him want to leave kisses on your grin and all over your face.

But the surprise only begins and when he pulls over to the side of the road, near a cliff, you start assaulting him with questions again. Osamu doesn’t answer, he just gets out, opens the passenger door and gently leads you out of the car.

“D' ya know where we are?” He says a few minutes later.

You glance around to look at the view and open your month, but he trails you off.

“This is where I feel in love with ya. Well- I guess I feel in love before, though I was very slow, but this is where I realised I was in love. Since then, I’ve not stopped falling for ya and for … well, everything about ya.”

“Osamu?”

He keeps going even though his heart threatens to explode in his chest, “I’m kinda nervous, but I really wanna do this. Yer the one for me, and I know I don’t always give ya the time ya deserve and I’m jealous sometimes… but I love ya and I’d like to laugh with ya for the rest of my life. So…”

He takes a little box from his pocket and gets on one knee (a little bit too harshly, he'll probably get a bruise tomorrow). The look of surprise—or rather shock, to be completely honest— on your face tells him you hadn’t realised what was happening until this moment.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about this for like a long time, and I really hope ya would accept to become my fiancé and perhaps my wife someday… if you’ll have me.”

You jump into his arms and Osamu fears he’ll fall down—not that he would mind. He would drown in oceans with you, get into a tornado, jump off a cliff, just to feel you against him.

“Dummy, idiot, argh you-”

“Why’re ya insultin’ me woman?”

He looks at you, there’s tears in your eyes, in this light, they look like stardust.

“I really want to be your fiancé and your wife and your everything.”

You already are, he wants to say but you shut him up with a kiss and he thinks you’ve never tasted so good. All the knots in his stomach can relax (because you said yes!)

The colour of the ring on your finger, golden, suits you. It reminds him of the sunrise and of the promise that you’ll be here next morning, and the one after, and the one after.

For the rest of his life, Osamu can fall asleep at peace because he knows you’ll always be the first thing he’ll see when he wakes up.

The wedding is planned for the following summer. You opt for something small and intimate, with family and close friends. His mother and yours help with the preparations, Umi chooses your dress, Bokuto does his bit too by ordering a cake from the patisserie  that's just opened next door to Onigiri Miya (this is entirely out of friendship for you, and not because he has a huge crush on the shop's owner), and finally Atsumu helps his brother find the wedding venue.

Everything is perfect, except for…  

“You said you wanted to invite the guys from high school.”

A sigh escapes from his nose and he avoids your gaze, “I know but-“

“The guys from high school that also means Rin.” He raises an eyebrow and his jaw clenches, “-tarou.”

“Alright, alright… Let’s invite Suna. It’s just, ya know, I want a very small weddin’, I’m not like ‘Tsumu.”

You cup his cheeks, “My love, I’d feel bad if I invited your team and not him. Don’t tell me you’re afraid I’ll leave with Rintarou just before the wedding, huh?”

His ears suddenly feel warm, and he tries to hide the shade of red that invaded his face by lowering his cap, you burst into laughter.

“Oi!” he barks, offended, “stop makin’ fun of me or ya'll never hear my vows.”

Your teasing smile turns into a pout, and you look at him with puppy eyes. With that face, Osamu knows he’s screwed. “I’m goin’ to bed now,” he informs.

But before he can run away, you grab his arm and with your other hand, you trace a line from his cheekbone to his jaw. He can feel the coldness of the golden ring against his skin. He closes his eyes for a second and lets you whisper a few sweet words in his ear.

"You make me happy,” you tell him in the end.

“So do ya,” he breathes. His lips find yours; you quiver helplessly beneath the touch. He smiles, “And it’s only the beginnin'.”

a/n: I may or may not have shed a tear haha

I hope you guys are happy with this ending, if you're interrested to read more I can always write some short extra stories about them

thank you for reading, liking and commenting, it means a lot to me <3

taglist: @wolffmaiden, @teyvatsunsets, @obibiwan, @sugacor3, @sunahsvt, @iluv-ace, @cinnamonruts

[beebee3832]

Sweet Fae

Bear shifter!Price x Fairy!(fem)Reader (whose wings are paralyzed)

Tags: Predator/prey dynamic, size difference, just a bit scary, gore, death, shy reader, kinda awkward Price, a little fluff, building into fluff and smut (in future parts), CRINGE

This one is in Price's perspective!!

Note: Fairies in this fic are just really short, not super small like in Tinkerbell or something. Also, I made slight changes to this fic from the last time I posted it. Sorry for not uploading in a while!! I was pretty busy with life stuff.

Thanks for reading!! <3

    I stood there, tears resting on my cheeks, and watched her walk away without a word. No response to my quiet plea, just a slight turn of her beautiful face to look back at me. Though not a word was said, our locked gaze held a meaning that couldn’t be shaken.

    We would meet again.

    …

    With swift motions, I swung my axe over and over again. Even though the sun was going to set soon, the temperature remained just as warm as it was in its peak. Sweat beaded on my forehead and slid down to drop on the forest floor.

    My day was filled with constant attempts to get my mind off of her. Her small frame, her doe-like eyes, the way she held my face like we’d known each other for years…

    No! My thought scolded me as I shook my head. These feelings were just the byproduct of living on one’s own for too long, which is how it would stay. I didn’t need anyone messing up what I had built for myself. I was better off being left to my own devices. Who knows what I was capable of? Well, I guess I know even more based off of last night.

    That last thought made my chest sink. How could I be so out of control? How could I let myself stay out so late? I was lucky that the moon wasn’t full or else that poor girl’s fate would’ve been much different.

    “Damn it!” My yell echoed throughout the crowded forest, causing birds to shoot straight up from the trees and fly away.

    I looked up and saw that dusk had already settled in, making me realize that I needed to head back to the house. I didn’t even need to chop up more wood today; I already had enough wood for the next couple of weeks, but I was running out of things to do to distract my thoughts from that sweet faery. That sweet fairy I almost devoured. “Fuck,” I muttered, my self loathing starting to consume me.

    I gathered up my tools and two of the logs I cut and started to make my way back. The rest of the wood could be collected tomorrow.

    I took long strides to make it back in time before nightfall. My feet ached by the time I eventually made it back, which made me wince with every step I took. I dropped the logs and my tools somewhere near the front of the house; I was too tired to care or notice. Nothing and no one would steal from me anyways. Most of the forest knew what I was, so they chose not to come near me. No people were around either, unless you count the very few others like me that live here. We all had our respective territories though, and usually one does not cross them.

    Just as I was about to enter the house, I heard a slight rustle from behind me. Then I noticed a familiar…smell that piqued my interest. That smell…I knew that smell. I was ruminating on that smell for the whole fucking day. I eagerly glanced behind me, something my mind didn’t approve of. I shouldn’t have been that excited. I was supposed to be okay with being alone. Company was unwelcome.

    Those thoughts were interrupted when I saw her. Everything was interrupted when I saw her.

    She was just a couple feet away. I could smell her so clearly. Soft rain paired with some kind of flower. My chest tightened with the urge to reach out and envelop her in my arms, but I couldn’t. All I could do was stare down at her with the same wide eyes she was giving me.

    Was she scared of me? Of course she is.

    Then why would she come back here? Was my mind toying with me? Did my loneliness finally grab hold of my sanity?

    She walked up to me and spoke in a soft and cautious tone.

    “Hello.”

    Hello. Hello.

    “Hello,” I muttered back awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Where was all my charm from the night before?

    She spoke again. “Can I come in?”

    Come in?

    I cleared my throat. “Yeah, sure, of course sweetheart. Come in,” I said, putting a warm smile on my face. I held the door open for her as she slowly walked inside. I noticed her scan my house like she did last night, searching for every possible escape I assumed. Smart girl. Still, it brought my smile down just a bit.

    I shut the door behind me and offered her a seat at my table. I already had a meal cooking before I went out on my useless attempts to distract myself.

    I gave her a portion and then sat down across from her, which once again reminded me of how small she was. Each wing of hers was smaller than my arms. She had to be at least a foot shorter than me, maybe more. I was definitely much stockier than her too. Such a perfect little thing compared to a monster like me. The bear in me was a little too excited over that.

    The sound of her voice startled me out of my trance.

    “You’re staring.” She looked at me with an almost fearful expression, which made me feel like shit. I was sure she was expecting me to kill her by then.

    “I-I’m sorry. I was just lost in thought, that’s all. Do you like the food?” I sputtered out.

    “It’s good,” she said with a slight smile on her face. Is she making fun of me or is she smiling because she likes it?

    She looked at me with thoughtful eyes. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here again, aren’t you?”

    Actually I’m wondering why I’m so obsessed with you.

    “You could say that, yes,” I said with a breathy laugh.

    She hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath. I could tell that she was nervous to say it. My mind could only think of the worst things.

    “I wanted to see you again.”

    My eyes went wide for just a second. My heart exploded for just a second. She wanted to see me again? After I almost slaughtered her? After I had to save her from myself? After crying to her like a pathetic little boy?

    “You intrigue me. I’ve…I’ve never seen anything like you before,” she admitted shyly.

    I wished she’d never seen me in the first place. I wasn’t meant for sweet things like her and she most definitely wasn’t made for a savage thing like me.

    “You shouldn’t have had to,” I murmured, barely looking into her eyes now.

    She stood up from her seat and walked over to me. Even though she was standing, I was still a bit taller while sitting down. She looked up at me with those pretty eyes of hers, seemingly studying me.

    “I have a question,” I said.

    “What is it?”

    She was a forearms length away, which was too close for comfort. I could almost feel her breath on me. My heart skipped a beat.

    “Why?”

    Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why, what?”

    “Why would you want to see me again?” My voice was quiet.

    She smiled and let out a soft sigh. “I…I really don’t know.”

    Disappointment twinged inside me. Why was I disappointed? I should’ve wanted nothing to do with this fairy, but my heart wanted her to at least be a little glad about seeing me again.

    “I suppose I was just intrigued by you,” she said sheepishly.

    Just then, the hairs on my body stood up. My eyes widened and my body as I felt an unfamiliar presence close by, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the fairy in front of me.

    “Hey, what’s going on?” Her voice wavered.

    I ignored her. Something wasn’t right, and I needed to find out what. I quickly stood up and rushed to open the curtains to my window just a sliver, noticing that the sky was dark once again. Shit.

    I quickly closed the curtain in fear of my bear coming out in front of her. The moon’s light touching my face would become a disaster for her if I wasn’t careful. I didn’t even want to think about it.

    Suddenly, I heard it. Something was circling too close to my house. Something was ignoring the boundaries of my territory. The thought enraged my bear. Usually, I would kill a creature–or even a person–for this, but with her here, I couldn’t bring myself to. For some reason, I wanted her to know that she could be safe with me, even when that was far from the truth.

    I took a second to hone my senses to focus on what was outside…

    A shifter. The realization made my bear even more upset.

    I heard it sniffing the door, no doubt trying to find a way to get in. I glanced over to the pretty fairy and saw her eyes jolt open when she heard it too. My first instinct was to kill, but instead, I made my way over to her. I could see her shake from fear, making me even more angry at the stupid thing in my territory.

    “Sweethear–”

    Her eyes shot up at me. “Wh-what is that?” She said in a whisper that I could barely hear. I needed to do something fast. This stupid creature was ruining my chances at ever having some sort of connection with her. That very thought made my heart beat fast in my chest with panic. I had to do something to get it away from here without scaring her, but that was going to be very difficult to do.

    I gingerly held her hands in mine, looking into her wide teary eyes. “Listen to me. You’re gonna be alright sweetie, but you need to hide somewhere away from any windows alright?” I kept my voice low and steady. She nodded frantically and then went to hide under the kitchen table. Good enough.

    I returned my focus to the outside. That shifter would pay. My bear was already aching to turn and protect what’s ours. I decided that I’d have to sneak through one of the windows. The moon’s light would make me automatically shift but hopefully she wouldn’t see it. I ran to the back window, opened it, and jumped out.

    Fuck! I could feel the sharp pain all throughout my entire body as soon as the night’s air touched my skin. My bones broke and creaked and stretched in unimaginable ways. I could feel tufts of fur painfully shoot out from my body. I couldn’t even hear my grunts through the ringing in my ears.

    My vision blurred with tears until it became even clearer than ever before. The night wasn’t so dark anymore, signaling that I had fully turned. I would never get used to that feeling, no matter how many times I shifted.

    I wanted to take a breather like I normally did after my intense shifts, but I had no time. My bear was in control now and there was only one thought in his head.

    Protect what’s mine.

    My bear let out a roar, not thinking about how I was just trying not to scare the cute little fairy hiding in my house.

    The sudden thought of her suddenly turned my bear and I into a furious frenzy. Protect.

    I took quick and heavy steps toward the threat, making sure to make enough noise to distract it from getting in. When I finally saw it, my blood boiled even more. It was a wolf shifter. It had a long and droopy snout with saliva dripping from its mouth. Its dark fur would’ve made it almost impossible to see for the normal eye, but I could see it quite clearly. I could see every disgusting thing about it. Its hand, fit with long claws, had penetrated through the door, no doubt trying to unlock the door from the inside.

    Panic surged through me. This ends now.

    I charged over to it and shoved it down to the ground. I heard it let out a yelp, and then I felt claws slash through my back. The searing pain weakened me, making it easier for the wolf to gain the upper hand.

    It flipped me over with impossible strength, making my bear groan. I hurriedly hauled myself up before it could make another attack. He may have been strong, but he was no match for me. A bear was bigger than a wolf.

    He swiftly made his way back over to me to deliver another slash, but I caught his leg in my mouth and bit. Hard. The crunch echoed throughout the forest, as well as his pained howls. I stood to my full bear height, making him dangle from my mouth. I could taste blood starting to overflow in my mouth.

    The wolf continued to thrash and snarl in pain, making it harder to hold it up. The rest of its claws continued to slit through my skin, making me wince. Fuck.

    I whipped my head to the right to launch him toward a tree. Surprisingly, he got back up rather quickly.

    I went back down on all fours and stalked over to him, making sure to make my steps heavy. The ground almost shook below me. I looked down on him.

    Go. My bear said to it.

    The shifter just continued to bear its teeth at me, getting ready to throw another blow.

    I growled deep and thunderous. Go!

    Even a wolf of its size couldn’t help but be scared. It was stubborn, but not stupid. With one last snap of its teeth, it turned to limp away.

    The bear inside me huffed in amusement. What a stupid wolf, thinking it could invade my territory and survive. I jumped forward and crushed it below me. It howled and whined and shook until I opened my mouth wide and tore its neck open. The sound of bones shattering and tendons snapping filled me with a deep sense of satisfaction. I stayed there holding it in my jaws until he stopped moving completely.

    Once I knew the shifter was dead, my bear’s mind went back to the faery in my house. I walked back to the house and shifted back. The pain was almost dulled by the exhaustion that had taken over me, and I fell to the floor, naked and unconscious.

    …

    When I finally woke up, I heard a pretty voice humming. I opened my eyes and saw that it was my fairy. My heart swelled when I saw that she was tending to my wounds.

    “Hello sweetheart.”

    She jumped a bit, but then gave me a worried smile. “How are you feeling?”

    Wonderful with you here. “I’m alright.”

    She let out a sigh of relief. Such a caring girl. She should’ve been gone by now, but she was here, taking care of someone who didn’t deserve it.

    When she was done tending to my various lacerations, she turned away. “Let me go make you something to–” I interrupted her with a firm grip on her arm.

    “Stay.”

    She looked back at me confused. Cautious. Understandably so, because I didn't even know why I said that.

    “Lay next to me sweetheart.” When she still didn’t move, I gave her a playful pout. “It’ll help me feel better.” When she rolled her eyes and sighed, I knew I had won.

    We laid together in silence for a few minutes. It was unlike any silence I had ever known in my decades of solitude. It was warm. Comfortable. It was a silence that set my heart at ease. If I could, I would lay in it forever.

    “What’s your name?”

    Her pretty voice made my thoughts scatter away. I turned to her and saw her bright eyes gazing at me expectedly.

    “John. John Price.”

    A soft smile showed on her face. “John. I like that. It’s a sturdy name.”

    “Sturdy?” I let out a loud and genuine laugh. “I’ve never heard that before, sweetheart.” What a strange girl. I loved it.

    She looked almost embarrassed with that shy smile of hers. Adorable. “Well, you know, it just sounds like it would belong to a reliable person? I don’t know!” A small giggle from her filled the room and my heart.

    “What’s your name, little fairy?”

    She said her name.

    “Pretty.” Like her. I wanted to know everything about her. Every nook and cranny of her mind. I was going insane. My loneliness had taken a toll on me, I realized. What happened to leaving her alone?

    That one question opened up to hours of conversation. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. But there was something on my mind; something that I had been thinking about ever since I met her.

    “What happened to your wings?” I questioned in between a dip of silence in the conversation. That took her by surprise.

    “My–what?” She averted her eyes away from me, and I could tell she was growing nervous.

    Shit. Why did I say that? Am I a child? Why can’t I just hold my tongue? Stupid stupid stupid. “I-nevermind. It’s none of my business, I-I’m sorry–”

    She put a finger on my lips, silencing me. That one fraction of a touch made my mind go quiet. It seemed to have the same effect on her because she suddenly retracted her hand back. My bear whined.

    “No, no it’s,” she sighed, “it's okay. I get that question a lot.” The defeated look on her face made my heart ache.

    She took a deep breath. “My wings have always been like this. Paralyzed since birth. It’s extremely rare but I guess I got lucky.” She let out a bitter laugh. “Flying is such an important thing to the fairies. It’s sacred to us. It hurts when I can’t participate in our traditions. It hurts that they always look at me with that stupid pity of theirs. As if I’m not capable. As if I’m some sort of wilting flower.

    “It’s just hard being…different. Being the odd one out. Always.”

    “I know,” I said quietly. She looked at me in surprise with those beautiful eyes of hers.

    “You do?”

    “Yes.”

    She stared at me with expecting eyes, wanting me to say more. I wanted to. I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to show her how much I understood. Why couldn’t I just get the words out? Why couldn’t I just open up?

    Because she would run. She would never want to spend her precious time with a savage like you. 

    My mind was right. She would never look at me the same if I told her why. Why I was cast away. Why I had to live alone all these decades. She would run just like the rest–and for good reason.

    I looked into her expecting eyes and pulled a stray lock of hair behind her pointed ear. A soft hue of pink painted over her face and ears and I smiled. With a hesitating hand, she pressed my hand to cup her cheek, now smiling back at me.

    “Let’s just go to sleep, sweetheart.”

    I could see the disappointment flash in her eyes, but I ignored it. It was best to not get too intimate with her. She wanted answers, but she wasn’t going to get any and she’d just have to deal with that.

    As I closed my eyes, expecting her to leave, I felt a brush of her hand on my jaw, almost caressing it, before it retracted just as quickly. I almost smiled.

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@bumblebeesfromvenus

[withered-blossoms]

➠LAY YOUR GAZE UPON ME: PROLOGUE

A/N: Banners by @cafekitsune. SPOILERS FOR GAME CONTENT. This is gonna be a series, so buckle up. Yes, this is a new writing style that I am experimenting with. Think of it as an experiment to see how patient my readers are, if you will. The chapters will be released in the sequence of the brothers’ birth orders. As for the dateables and finally the new undateables, I'll consider giving them their own chapters as well once I've familiarised myself with their character. As usual, if Luke's chapter is written, it will be strictly platonic. Anyways, enjoy the prologue!

What makes you think that the world is exactly how you see it?

What makes you so sure that the truth is composed of what your eyes send to your brain?

Dear little human, it will do you only good and no bad to remember that nothing is definite. Life is full of changes at every corner. Those seemingly set now may very well fade away later. Anything can turn into sand the moment your eyes land on another object.

This concept applies to fictional works as well. Who is to say that your favourite characters do not exist? How can you all, as measly humans, guarantee that a character is fictional?

Give it some thought, my precious little mortal. How do you know for sure that the characters you make up are not memories of loved ones from the past? Who can guarantee that the tragic backstories you “came up” with are not the tales that your beloved partner, romantic or platonic, divulged to you, perhaps under a starry night with the breeze gently brushing against your cheeks?

I suppose I should apologise for making you waste your time on the contemplation of such matters. As beings with a limited lifespan, it would most likely be better for you to bring those long-forgotten memories back to life once again, while you still have the chance to. Grant them, bless them, gift them, breathe life into them once more, so that they may live under your loving gaze.

Only in your memories will they truly live.

So boldly tell their tales. Spread the word, invest time into their “creation” and pen out the details personally.

Because this is the only way they can make you remember them again.

…….

Apologies become meaningless when they are spilled repeatedly from one’s lips. To make it up to you, let me direct your attention to the new game in the market. I’ll be sure to give you, my dear little lamb, an unforgettable tour. Think of this as a little gift from me for the time you wasted trying to understand my delusion.

Obey Me’s the name, and your memory’s the game.

Those advertisements with weird dialogues, game characters with characteristic hair colours and ridiculous “choices” certainly do ring a bell, don’t they? It makes me wonder why the developers choose that specific advertising style when the real gameplay is nothing of that sort. Or well, its quality is a lot higher.

God, even Solomon can’t give them reliable advice when to comes to humans huh? Where is Leviathan when we need him to roast the choices made by the others on the committee?

Come now little lamb. All you need to do is to push that download button and you’ll be able to see who I’m referring to again. You’ve got plenty of storage after all; it wouldn’t be wise to lie to my face now, would it?

So that’s what you do. Download the game, and immerse yourself in its plot. Weren’t expecting for “your vessel” to be kidn– invited and whisked away, pardon me, to Hell on the first episode now did you? Well, it would seem that the darling lamb does not have a choice, since you were summoned under the personal orders of the heir apparent after all. Just go along with the flow, won’t you? They won’t harm a single hair on your head. You have the word of the first-born, the Avatar of Pride, Lucifer, as he is named. Besides, you’re under the protection of Diavolo and by extension, Barbatos, steward of the Crown Prince who you will meet later on. Their names sound familiar? You must be imagining things; just ignore that feeling of déjà vu. The human mind can be incredibly deceitful after all, so see to it that you fall not for its traps.

As we go down memory lane the storylines, you are introduced to the brothers one-by-one. Some are currently present, some are not. Worry not though, eventually you’ll get to know them again. To sum it up for your sheepy brain, you’ll be living with the seven Lords of Hell, who serve the Crown Prince. We have Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub and Belphegor. Find it hard to remember? It’s alright, perhaps you’ve already known it before my introduction. You just have to dig a little deeper and –

Alright alright, I’ll take your word for it and stop squawking. After all, I’m just a little crow, what would this bird-brain know?

[pdriesta]

CHAPTER SIX

“even when it’s bad, i love you”

pairing — trentxblack!girl

genre — angst, angst and more angst

word count — 7k

summary — y/n and trent's once strong relationship is strained by his growing distance and her unexpected pregnancy. as they clash over their future, y/n faces the painful choice of leaving behind the love and they love they worked so hard creating. will they overcome their struggles and rebuild their love, or will their fractured bond break beyond repair?

an — i know i can’t keep saying every chapter is my favorite so i’ll settle on how much i love them and their soon to be family

masterlist

trent never quite knew which version of y/n he’d be getting each day. pregnancy had brought with it an unpredictability that kept him on his toes. one moment, she was soft and affectionate, glowing with happiness as she rubbed her growing belly and gushed about their twins. the next, she was a storm of emotions, fiery and stubborn about the smallest details, her mood swinging wildly like a pendulum.

and trent, bless him, had learned that the best way to survive these swings was to simply ride them out. it was almost amusing, if it wasn’t so baffling. he loved her with everything in him, but man, his beautiful fiancée was truly unpredictable these days.

today was one of those days.

y/n stood in the middle of the twins' nursery, hands on her hips, glaring at the paint swatches pinned on the wall. trent, shirtless and sweaty from moving furniture, glanced over at her warily. she’d been quiet for a good ten minutes, and that silence usually meant she was about to say something that would send them spiraling into an argument.

“i don’t like it,” she said suddenly, her tone sharp.

trent wiped the sweat from his forehead, raising an eyebrow. “the paint?”

“yes, the paint,” she snapped, turning to him with a glare. “it’s too... blue.”

trent blinked, glancing at the wall. the paint was a light shade of baby blue. it was literally called ‘soft sky.’ “it’s supposed to be blue, baby,” he said cautiously, trying not to sound like he was disagreeing with her too much. “we agreed on blue. it’s your favorite color.”

“no, you agreed on blue,” y/n retorted, crossing her arms over her chest. “i wanted something more neutral, like a soft green or a warm beige. blue is too... i don’t know, obvious.”

trent stared at her, his mind scrambling to remember the multiple conversations they’d had about the nursery. he was sure they had landed on blue, but he also knew better than to argue with her when she got like this. her pregnancy hormones were no joke, and the last thing he wanted was to upset her. again.

“okay,” he said carefully, trying to keep his tone even. “we can change it if you want. no big deal.”

y/n frowned at him, her eyes narrowing. “why do you always do that?”

trent blinked, confused. “do what?”

“just... agree with me,” she said, her voice wavering. “it’s like you don’t care enough to argue.”

trent was sure this was a trap. he could feel it. he walked over to her slowly, wiping his hands on his shorts. “it’s not that, baby,” he said softly. “i just don’t want to upset you. if you want a different color, we’ll change it.”

y/n’s eyes welled up with tears, and trent mentally kicked himself. here we go, he thought. “i’m not trying to be difficult,” she said, her voice cracking. “i just... i want everything to be perfect for them. and i’m so tired of feeling like i’m messing everything up.”

trent’s heart squeezed at the sight of her tears. he quickly closed the distance between them, pulling her into his arms. “you’re not messing anything up,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “you’re amazing, baby. you’re growing our babies, and that’s all that matters.”

y/n sniffled against his chest, and trent continued rubbing her back, his heart aching for her. she was carrying so much stress on top of the physical toll of being pregnant with twins, and he wished there was more he could do to make her feel better.

and just like that, the mood shifted. y/n pulled back slightly, wiping her tears away, her eyes now locked on trent’s bare chest. her expression softened, and a small, almost mischievous smile tugged at her lips. “you know... you look good all sweaty like that.”

trent raised an eyebrow, the sudden change in her demeanor catching him off guard. “yeah?”

“yeah,” she purred, stepping closer to him, her hands sliding up his chest. “really good.”

trent chuckled, surprised by the sudden flip to her sadness. “you’re not mad about the paint anymore?”

“what paint?” y/n mumbled, her lips brushing against his collarbone as she kissed his skin lightly.

trent’s body reacted immediately to her touch, heat flooding his veins. but he couldn’t help but laugh at how quickly things had turned around. one minute, she was mad about the nursery, and the next, she was kissing his neck like she couldn’t get enough of him. “you’re something else, you know that?”

“shut up,” she whispered, nipping at his jaw. “just let me admire you.”

trent let out a soft groan as her lips moved down his neck, his hands finding their way to her waist. “if i’d known painting would get this kind of reaction, i would’ve done it sooner.”

y/n pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “you’ve always looked good shirtless,” she said, her voice low and sultry. “but now... all sweaty and working hard in the nursery? it’s doing something to me.”

trent smirked, his hands sliding down to cup her hips. “oh yeah? what’s it doing?”

“it’s making me want you,” y/n admitted, her hands gripping his biceps as she leaned in to kiss him again, this time with more intensity.

trent groaned, the feeling of her lips on his sending a jolt of desire through him. but before things could go too far, he pulled back, much to y/n’s frustration. 

"what are you doing?” she asked, her eyes dark with want.

trent grinned, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her lips. “making sure you don’t kill me for not painting the nursery the right colour.”

y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. “you’re so annoying.”

“i know,” he said, giving her a wink. “but you love me.”

y/n let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “yeah, i do. and you better finish this nursery before these twins get here, or i’ll be the one killing you.”

trent laughed, pulling her back into his arms. “deal, baby. now, where were we?”

y/n smirked, her hands sliding back up his chest. “right about here.”

they stood in the half-decorated nursery, a mix of laughter and affection filling the room as they got back to work, both of them knowing that whatever the future held, they’d figure it out together—with a lot of love, a lot of laughter, and maybe just a little more paint.

trent stood in their bedroom, watching her. the afternoon light filtered in, casting a gentle glow on y/n as she stood in front of the mirror. the pale blue dress hugged her body, highlighting the beautiful curve of her belly, and her braids fell in smooth waves down her back. she was breathtaking, yet he could see the way her hand rested on her stomach, fingers fidgeting with the fabric, a clear sign of the doubt running through her mind. today was their gender reveal, a big step in sharing this journey with family and friends, but he knew she was holding a storm of nerves beneath her calm surface.

he took a quiet breath, leaning against the doorframe for a moment, before softly breaking the silence. “what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

she jumped slightly, her eyes meeting his in the mirror. a small, sheepish smile played on her lips, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “just… thinking.”

he stepped forward, his voice gentle, probing, “about?”

her gaze fell, and her voice softened, almost inaudible. “about how i look… how different i feel. i’m all… big. and puffy. and—”

“gorgeous,” he interrupted, crossing the remaining space between them. he wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his hands over hers on her bump, pulling her close and pressing a tender kiss to her shoulder. “you’re glowing, baby. and don’t think for a second i’m just saying that. you’re absolutely stunning.”

she sighed, leaning back into his embrace but still shaking her head, brushing her fingertips over his. “you’re only saying that because you have to.”

he chuckled softly, his breath warm against her ear. “no, love. i don’t have to say anything. i choose to say it because i want you to hear the truth. you’re the most beautiful person i know. and that’s not because you’re carrying our babies—though that’s one of the best parts.” his voice softened, sincerity flooding his tone. “it’s because you’re you. the love of my life. my fiancée. the woman i want to spend forever with. that hasn’t changed one bit.”

a wave of emotion washed over her, her eyes misting as she met his gaze in the mirror. “it just… it all feels so fast. like everything is changing, and i don’t know if i’m keeping up.”

trent gently turned her to face him, his hands moving to cup her face, his thumbs grazing her cheeks in comforting circles. “y/n, i see you. all of you. you’re not just different—you’re more. more incredible, more resilient. you’re carrying our babies, and that makes you even more beautiful to me. you’re still the same woman i fell in love with, only now you’re also going to be their mom.”

her lips quivered as she tried to hold back the tears, his words settling like a warm blanket over her fears. “i’m just… scared,” she confessed, her voice breaking. “scared of all the change, and… what if i’m not ready?”

trent pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering there as if to transfer some of his own calm into her. “there’s nothing to be scared of that we won’t face together. yeah, things are gonna change—but not us. never us. you and me? we’re forever. and these two? they’re only adding to the love we already have.”

her heart melted at his reassurance, her fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt as she leaned into him, letting him anchor her. “how do you always know what to say?”

he chuckled, pulling her closer and brushing a soft kiss over her lips. “because i know you, better than anyone else. and i love you more than i could ever put into words.”

she laughed through her tears, a warm, soft sound as she rested her forehead against his chest. “you’re too good to me, trent.”

“i’m exactly what you deserve,” he murmured, his voice filled with quiet conviction. he stroked her cheek tenderly, his gaze full of adoration. “and i’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you see that. you deserve the world, y/n, and i’m here to remind you every day.”

they stood there, wrapped in each other, until her worries faded, replaced by the warmth of his love. and she knew—she wasn’t facing any of this alone.

the backyard was buzzing with excitement as friends and family gathered under a canopy of twinkling lights and balloons. pink and blue decorations were strewn across the yard, setting the perfect scene for the big moment. y/n stood beside trent, her hand resting on her bump as she tried to calm the butterflies in her stomach.

trent gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “you okay?”

she smiled up at him, though her nerves were still clear in her eyes. “i think so. just ready to get it over with.”

“soon enough,” trent murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. “just think about how excited our families are.”

before y/n could reply, her brother malik and trent’s younger brother marcel came barreling through the crowd, mid-argument as usual.

“bro, you seriously thought those trainers were the move for today?” malik said, shaking his head at marcel. “this is supposed to be a gender reveal party, not the club.”

marcel scoffed, looking down at his pristine designer trainers. “what’s wrong with them? they’re clean.”

“too clean, man,” malik shot back. “you look like you’re celebrating your day, not the twins'”

trent groaned, a hand dragging down his face as he turned to y/n. “they’re at it again.”

y/n chuckled, rolling her eyes affectionately. “they can’t help themselves.”

“maybe the twins will be smarter than their uncles,” trent muttered with a smirk.

“hey!” malik called out, catching the tail end of trent’s comment. “i’ll have you know these twins are gonna like my side of the family better. they’re gonna be team malik, all the way.”

marcel rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. “yeah, because nothing says ‘cool uncle’ like showing them their uncle marcel dresses better than uncle malik.”

“better than you, at least,” malik shot back, grinning.

marcel huffed. “just wait. i’ll have those babies wearing matching kicks with me before you can even try.”

“yeah, sure,” malik said, crossing his arms. “but when they’re older, they’re gonna want to hang with the fun uncle, not the one who’s still arguing about shoe choices.”

“they’ll want to hang with the one who doesn’t embarrass them with bad jokes,” marcel retorted. “face it—i’ve got this in the bag.”

trent just shook his head, chuckling under his breath. “our kids are in for a wild ride.”

y/n laughed, leaning into him. “good thing they’ve got us to balance them out.”

“and plenty of love,” trent added, his eyes soft as they locked on hers. “no matter what team they choose.”

the camera rolled, capturing the light-filled room and the excitement buzzing around them. laughter and chatter filled the space, friends and family gathered close, each person caught up in the anticipation of what was to come. as y/n and trent stood side by side, their hands instinctively found each other, and they shared a quiet smile. a friend stepped forward with the camera, grinning as they lifted it, eager to capture their guesses for the big reveal.

“alright, mum and dad,” they teased, focusing the lens. “what do you think these two little ones will be?”

the camera rolled, capturing the light-filled room and the excitement buzzing around them. y/n and trent stood side by side, both smiling as a friend held up the camera, asking them the big question.

"alright, mum and dad, any guesses? what do you think you'll be having?" the friend prompted, grinning behind the lens.

y/n’s smile softened, and she gave a little wave to the camera, her hand resting over her belly. "hey, babies. i’m your mum, and i think you’ll be two beautiful boys." she laughed, then added, "but we’ll love you no matter what."

trent raised an eyebrow, smirking. "two boys, huh? alright, well…" he gave the camera an exaggerated look. "i’m your dad, and i think you’re going to be two little princesses. no doubt about it."

y/n shot him a playful glare, nudging his side. "i swear you were the one saying you wanted boys the other day."

he chuckled, shrugging with a teasing smile. "that was before you changed your mind. i’m just keeping things balanced."

she rolled her eyes, leaning into him with a grin. "well, maybe i did change my mind. besides, i’m allowed to."

trent’s arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer as he looked back at the camera, his gaze softening. "no matter who you are, or who you grow up to be, you’ve already got a mum who’ll give you all the love in the world and a dad who’ll protect you with his whole heart. we’re here, little ones, waiting for you with all our love."

y/n beamed, resting her head on his shoulder. "and we’re already so proud of you both. we love you more than you’ll ever know."

they both looked at each other, their eyes softening, and it was clear that no matter what, they were ready to welcome their little ones with all the love in the world.

as the crowd gathered around for the reveal, malik and marcel grabbed microphones, each with a playful smirk on their faces. they exchanged dramatic looks, clearly reveling in their roles as hosts.

“alright, people!” marcel called out, holding his mic up high. “it’s time to settle this once and for all. team boy or team girl?”

“and let’s be real, it’s a matter of which side of the family the twins will prefer” malik added with a grin. “we all know the twins are gonna like my side of the family better.”

marcel rolled his eyes. “our side has more style and are prettier - not you, auntie. they’ll be obsessed with our side.”

trent chuckled, shaking his head as he whispered to y/n. “they really don’t quit, do they?”

“never,” y/n said, smiling. “but i love it. it’s gonna be chaos, but the good kind.”

trent grinned, pressing a kiss to her temple. “as long as you’re by my side, i’ll take all the chaos.”

“all right, on three!” marcel calls out, glancing over to y/n's brother who nods back, mirroring his own excitement.

“one… two… three!”

and then—boom.

they both twist and release the confetti cannons. in a burst of color, the sky fills with two distinct hues—pink and blue.

the crowd gasps, murmuring in surprise, and trent and y/n exchange a bewildered look. y/n’s eyes widen as she looks up at the colors raining down, then over at her brother, thinking he must’ve misfired. she lets out a confused laugh, “wait—did you mess it up?”

malik just stares back, a bit stunned himself. “no, that’s... what they gave us.”

trent’s brother is equally taken aback, shaking his head as if he’s double-checking in his own mind. “yeah, that’s exactly what they told us to do.”

the realization dawns slowly on them, both trent and y/n glancing back up at the sky, seeing pink and blue drifting down over them. y/n covers her mouth, eyes welling with tears, and trent, half-laughing in shock, wraps his arms around her.

“are you serious?” he laughs out, voice shaking as he tries to process it. “a boy... and a girl?”

malik and marcel nod, grinning as they finally catches on to their surprise. “yep, looks like you’re getting one of each!”

y/n can’t help it—she lets out a small, disbelieving laugh, burying her face into trent’s chest as the reality sinks in. “one of each,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. she glances up at him, her own smile wobbly. “i can’t believe it.”

trent’s expression softens, still filled with a blend of shock and joy as he cups her face, wiping away the tears that have begun to slip down her cheeks. “our family,” he murmurs, eyes brimming with pride. “one of each, y/n. it’s perfect.

they share a quiet, emotional moment, the world around them fading away as they hold onto each other. and then, unable to contain his excitement, trent lifts her off the ground, spinning her in his arms as she laughs. the cheers of their family surround them, but all he can focus on is the way she looks at him, their shared happiness lighting up her eyes.

when he finally sets her down, their foreheads touch, both of them still holding onto each other, feeling like they’ve just stepped into a beautiful dream.

the room was filled with the soft hum of machinery, faint echoes of the clinic sounds weaving into the quiet. y/n lay on the exam table, her shirt pulled up just enough to expose the growing curve of her belly, which had seemingly blossomed overnight. she watched as the doctor adjusted the ultrasound equipment, her fingers instinctively tracing gentle circles over her abdomen, grounding herself.

trent sat beside her, his hand warm and steady as it held hers, giving her a squeeze whenever she seemed to drift away with her thoughts. they both focused on the screen as two small, blurry figures came into view, nestled together, hearts beating in rhythmic unison. their twins. one boy, one girl.

"they're growing beautifully," the doctor smiled, pointing to each baby in turn. "they're both measuring well, a bit ahead of schedule, actually. they’re healthy, strong—just thriving in there."

y/n felt trent’s hand tighten around hers, a smile spreading across his face as he leaned in closer, brushing a soft kiss against her temple. but a new weight settled in her chest, a heaviness she hadn’t anticipated.

the doctor’s voice softened, and she turned to them both. "just something to keep in mind," she began, her tone gentle, reassuring. "because they're twins and growing rapidly, there's a good chance you might go into labor a bit early. it’s common with twins, so it’s nothing to be concerned about, especially as we near the third trimester. they’d still be in term if they came around that time."

y/n blinked, feeling a flicker of panic stir inside her as the doctor continued to explain what to expect, how common early deliveries were with twins, how well-prepared the hospital would be to handle it. trent asked a few questions, his tone calm and collected, completely absorbed in the conversation with the doctor. but y/n felt like she was slipping under, her heart racing as the reality of it all suddenly loomed over her.

"we’ll keep monitoring you closely," the doctor reassured them before leaving, giving y/n a warm smile and a final pat on her shoulder.

the door clicked shut, and the room settled into a tense silence. y/n stared at the empty spot where the doctor had stood, her eyes unfocused, and before she knew it, her breaths began to shallow, a tightness clawing up her throat.

trent turned to her, his eyes immediately softening with concern. "hey," he murmured, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his touch achingly gentle. "what’s going on? you’ve been so quiet."

she looked down, biting her lip, feeling the first warm tear slip down her cheek. "it’s all… just happening so fast, trent," she whispered, her voice breaking, her hand instinctively moving to her belly as if to shield herself from the weight of her own words. "i’m not ready. i thought i would be, but…"

he was silent for a moment, his hand moving to cover hers, grounding her. "baby, you’re going to be incredible," he whispered, his voice steady, unwavering. "you’re already doing everything you can."

but her tears fell faster, each one carrying a worry she hadn't spoken aloud. "what if… what if something goes wrong? what if i’m not good enough, or strong enough? i’m already so tired, trent, and they aren’t even here yet."

he shifted closer, cupping her face with both hands, wiping away the tears that slipped past her guard. "y/n," he said softly, his gaze intense, holding hers. "you’re the strongest person i know. and they’re so lucky, they’re so damn lucky to have you as their mom. you’re going to be everything they need and more. and i’m here, too. every step of the way."

she shook her head, her voice trembling. "i just… i feel like i’m not prepared for any of it. the delivery, bringing them home, taking care of two babies at once… it’s like, every day they get bigger, and the closer we get to actually meeting them, the more terrified i am."

trent pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her tightly, holding her like he could shield her from every fear she carried. "listen to me," he murmured against her hair, his voice firm, grounding her with every word. "we’re in this together. i’m not going anywhere, alright? when you’re scared, i’ll be here. when you’re tired, i’ll be here. you’re not doing this alone, y/n."

she let out a shaky breath, burying her face into his chest as she clung to him, his words a balm against her spiraling thoughts. "i don’t want to be scared," she whispered, her voice muffled, filled with vulnerability she rarely showed.

he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, his voice a quiet promise. "it’s okay to be scared. it just means you care. it means you already love them more than anything… just like i love you."

she stayed in his arms, her tears slowing as his words settled into her heart, easing the fear, even if just a little. and in that moment, wrapped up in his embrace, she found a flicker of the strength she needed—a strength she knew she’d carry with her, every step of the way.

they sat side by side on the familiar couch in their therapist’s office, hands intertwined, still buzzing from the excitement of the gender reveal. the weight of the day’s celebration mixed with the gentle calm of the room, an odd but comforting contrast. trent squeezed y/n’s hand, glancing at her with a warm smile before the therapist cleared his throat, bringing their attention back to the session.

“first off, congratulations,” the therapist began, his voice kind and steady. “you’re about to welcome two beautiful lives into this world, and i can see how much love and joy that’s bringing you both.”

y/n smiled, a soft blush coloring her cheeks. “thank you. it’s… it’s overwhelming, in a good way. but still overwhelming.”

trent nodded, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “yeah, it’s like… one moment, i’m over the moon, and the next, i’m terrified,” he admitted, glancing down before looking back up at the therapist. “we’re young, and sometimes, i wonder if i’m ready for all of this.”

the therapist leaned forward slightly, his gaze warm and understanding. “trent, it’s perfectly natural to feel both excitement and fear, especially with such a big change. parenthood is daunting at any age, but you’re both aware of what it means to bring new lives into the world. that self-awareness alone speaks volumes.”

y/n bit her lip, her voice quieter. “i’m scared, too. i feel this responsibility… like i need to be perfect, even though i know that’s impossible. i worry that we’ll make mistakes, that we won’t be good enough parents.”

the therapist nodded, his expression softening. “y/n, remember that there’s no such thing as a perfect parent. what matters is being present, loving, and open. you both already show these qualities just by being here, talking openly about your concerns. and your children, they’ll feel that love from day one.”

trent shifted in his seat, glancing down as he mulled over the therapist’s words. “i feel like… i need to carry so much,” he murmured, “like, i need to be strong all the time so y/n doesn’t have to worry.”

y/n turned to him, squeezing his hand tighter. “you don’t have to do it alone, you know? we’re a team in this, trent. i don’t expect you to carry everything by yourself.”

trent’s gaze softened as he looked at her, and the therapist watched their exchange, nodding approvingly. “you both have such a strong bond,” he said gently. “and even though you’re young, you’ve shown a remarkable amount of resilience. when you first came here, you both wanted to understand each other better, to grow together. that foundation is what will carry you through this next chapter.”

y/n blinked back a tear, her voice thick with emotion. “i just… i want our kids to have a home filled with love. i never want them to feel alone or burdened. and i’m so grateful trent and i have each other to lean on.”

trent placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “and i want to be there for all of it,” he said quietly, his voice trembling slightly. “the good and the bad, the late nights, everything. i want them to feel safe, like i feel with you.”

the therapist smiled, a sense of pride in his expression as he looked at the two of them. “that’s what it’s all about,” he said warmly. “parenthood isn’t easy, but you two have built something very special here, something that will help you weather whatever comes. you’ve got this.”

trent grinned, a hint of his usual playfulness breaking through the more serious atmosphere. “oh yeah? you got kids, doc?” he asked, tilting his head with genuine curiosity.

the therapist chuckled, pausing before he answered, “i do, actually. two of them, with my partner.”

y/n and trent exchanged a surprised but warm look, and trent laughed, shaking his head. “figures you’d know what all of this is like, then. those late nights, the whole terrifying, beautiful mess.”

the therapist gave a small smile, clearly touched. “oh, yes, i’ve been there. it’s a wild, wonderful ride. and between you and me,” he leaned in slightly, as if sharing a secret, “you two have become some of my favorite clients. don’t tell anyone.”

y/n laughed softly, her fingers tracing absent patterns over trent’s hand. “we won’t. and… thank you, really,” she said, her voice soft with sincerity.

trent gave the therapist a playful nod. “guess you’re stuck with us, then.”

the therapist chuckled, looking at them with a fondness that had grown over their sessions. “stuck with you both? it’d be an honor.”

they sat in silence for a moment, letting his words settle. y/n felt a surge of gratitude, not just for trent but for the journey they’d been on together. she leaned her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes as she breathed in the reassurance of his presence.

“thank you,” she murmured, her voice soft and filled with a newfound hope. “for everything.”

trent nodded, his arm wrapping around her, holding her close. “yeah… thank you. i don’t know what we’d do without these talks.”

the therapist gave a gentle nod, a small smile on his face. “just keep holding on to each other. remember, you don’t have to be perfect—you just have to be present. i believe you’re both going to make wonderful parents.”

a few days later, trent picked her up after training, his expression warm but holding a hint of mystery that kept her on edge. he’d told her he’d planned a “little surprise,” something he hoped would lift the heavy weight that had settled over her heart lately. y/n eyed him curiously, a small smile tugging at her lips as she tried to coax details out of him, but he only gave her hand a light squeeze and chuckled.

“trust me,” he murmured softly, his eyes flicking toward her, a mix of affection and excitement.

the drive was a quiet one, her head leaning back against the seat as she tried to guess where they were headed, her thoughts swirling. when he finally pulled into the small, quaint parking lot of a local community center, y/n’s eyebrows shot up. faint laughter and light music drifted from the building, the subtle murmur of voices gathering inside. she could see the faces of other couples and soon-to-be parents mingling around the entrance, holding what looked like small dolls in their arms.

she turned to him, realization sparking in her eyes as she whispered, “you… signed us up for a parenting class?”

trent’s grin was both warm and boyishly proud, his hand slipping around her waist as he led her toward the building. “yeah. figured it might ease some of the nerves you’ve been having, show you just how ready you really are. and, you know, i kinda wanted to see you in action,” he teased, dropping his voice a notch, “mr. and mrs. alexander-arnold, ready for baby boot camp.”

hearing their names together like that, mr. and mrs. alexander-arnold, felt like a soft, grounding balm on her heart. she let herself lean into him, her heart fluttering as they entered, the air warm and cozy inside, infused with soft lavender and eucalyptus scents. her eyes swept the room, taking in the setup: small blankets laid out in pairs, each with a baby doll resting on top, waiting for its future “parents.”

the instructor greeted them, a middle-aged woman with a comforting smile and a calm energy that immediately put y/n at ease. she guided everyone to their spots, explaining the basics they’d be covering—from gentle holds and swaddling techniques to feeding positions. trent, surprisingly, dove in with the kind of focus she’d seen him bring to the pitch. his large hands were somehow delicate and practiced as he cradled the baby doll, a grin quirking up when he glanced over at her struggling with her own doll.

“what?” she muttered, cheeks pink as she tried to position her hands like he had. “i’m just getting a feel for it.”

“want me to help?” he teased, his voice low, lips twitching with the urge to laugh.

she nudged him lightly, shooting him a playful glare. “i think i’ve got this, thank you very much.”

he laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender, though the pride in his eyes was unmistakable. “alright, alright, mrs. alexander-arnold. show me what you’ve got.”

she rolled her eyes but focused, her fingers curling carefully around the doll as she tried to mimic his hold. it was awkward, her movements a bit clumsy, but trent watched with an encouraging smile, adjusting the doll in her arms once, twice, until it felt… right. she looked down at the doll, her heart swelling as she imagined holding their actual babies in a few months. the thought filled her with both awe and an almost overwhelming rush of emotions.

the instructor then guided them through swaddling, showing how to tuck the blanket securely yet gently, making the doll appear snug and cozy. y/n’s first attempt was a bit messy, the blanket slipping and leaving gaps, but trent leaned over, his hands warm as he guided hers, helping her wrap the cloth tightly.

“see?” he murmured, his gaze soft as he looked into her eyes. “you’re already doing better than most first-timers.”

she laughed softly, her shoulders relaxing under his touch. “maybe. it’s still just a doll, though.”

he shifted closer, his arm settling around her as they watched the instructor demonstrate the next technique. “you know you’re going to love them more than anything,” he said quietly, his voice filled with a conviction that settled something deep within her, “and they’re going to be so lucky to have you. you’re going to be a natural.”

her breath caught, the sincerity in his words stirring a wave of emotion. “you really believe that, don’t you?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

he nodded, his gaze steady and unwavering. “more than anything. there’s no one else i’d want to be their role model, to guide them, to be their safe place. i already know you’re going to love them unconditionally. you’ve got this, y/n.”

the instructor came over to check their progress, smiling approvingly at y/n’s improved swaddle. “looks like you’re getting the hang of it,” she said warmly, making y/n’s cheeks flush with a touch of pride and surprise.

trent smirked, leaning closer to whisper in her ear. “told you. look at that, mrs. alexander-arnold… already a pro.”

they both burst into quiet laughter, the air between them lightening with each shared look and touch. she looked down at her doll, her earlier anxieties fading into the background. he’d helped her realize that maybe, just maybe, she was ready for this.

by the time the class wrapped up, the instructor gave a few final tips, encouraging everyone to practice at home and remember that no parent is perfect, but love would carry them through the learning curves.

as they walked back to the car, y/n couldn’t help but feel a swelling sense of gratitude for him. once they were seated inside, she reached over, taking his hand and squeezing it, her voice thick with emotion.

“thank you,” she whispered. “for bringing me here, for believing in me… for all of this. i don’t think i’d even be half this calm if you weren’t here.”

trent turned to her, his expression soft, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “you’re already everything they need,” he replied, his voice warm. “and we’re going to be there for each other, yeah? every step of the way. you just have to believe in yourself the way i do.”

she nodded, blinking back tears as she felt his love wrap around her like a comforting embrace. she’d never felt more certain, more grounded.

“okay,” she whispered, her heart feeling lighter, “we’ve got this.”

and with trent by her side, she finally believed they did.

trent was sitting on the edge of the bed, his phone in hand, but the moment y/n walked into the room, everything else faded. his eyes widened as they landed on her — the silk baby blue nightie clung to her curves, her swollen belly on full display. she was stunning, her pregnancy only amplifying her beauty, and it took everything in him to keep from groaning out loud.

he sat up straighter, his gaze trailing up and down her body, unable to tear his eyes away. “fuck me,” he muttered, the words slipping out before he could even stop himself, his voice rough and low.

y/n’s lips curled into a soft smile as she padded over to him, her hips swaying just enough to have him biting back a curse. “what was that?” she teased, her voice sweet, but there was a mischievous glint in her eye. 

trent swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving her, his heart racing as she stopped right in front of him, her hand gently resting on her belly. “you heard me,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire. “you look... god, you look unreal.”

her smile deepened, and she let her fingers trace over his shoulder as she leaned down, her lips brushing against his. “this?” she whispered, her hand slipping to the thin strap of her nightie, teasing it down her shoulder just enough to make his breath hitch. “it’s just a little something i found.”

trent groaned, his hands instinctively finding her hips, pulling her closer as his lips captured hers in a heated kiss. “you’re killing me,” he murmured against her mouth, his hands slipping under the silk fabric, feeling the soft warmth of her skin.

y/n laughed softly, her breath mingling with his as she pressed herself closer to him, her belly bumping gently against his chest. “maybe,” she whispered, her lips grazing his jaw, “but you seem to like it.”

his hands slid up her sides, his touch firm but tender, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. “you have no idea,” he growled, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes, his gaze filled with raw hunger. “i can’t stop thinking about you… can’t stop wanting you.”

y/n’s eyes softened as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “then don’t stop.”

that was all he needed to hear. in one swift motion, trent pulled her onto his lap, his hands splaying over her thighs, the soft silk of her nightie bunching around her hips. his fingers trailed over her skin, his touch slow and deliberate, savoring the feel of her.

“you drive me insane,” he muttered, his lips trailing down her neck, his hands never leaving her body as they moved over every curve, every inch of her he could reach.

y/n shivered, her fingers tangling in his hair as she arched into him, her belly pressed firmly against his chest. “you’re the one who’s always on tv being sexy,” she teased breathlessly, her voice breaking as his hands found the hem of her nightie, slowly slipping it higher. “you’re the one who… who can’t stop looking so good.”

trent chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing her collarbone as he whispered, “you’re the only one i care about seeing me like that. the rest? doesn't matter.”

his hands slipped under the silk, pulling the fabric higher until it was pooled at her waist. he paused, his gaze dropping to her belly, and his heart clenched at the sight. she was carrying his baby, their baby, and the thought of it, of her, overwhelmed him with so much love and desire that he could barely breathe.

he let his hands rest on her belly, gently rubbing the curve with a tenderness that made her heart flutter. “i’m obsessed with you,” he murmured, his voice soft but filled with intensity. “and with this. with our baby… with everything about you.”

y/n’s breath hitched, her fingers tightening in his hair as she leaned into him, her body trembling with need. “then show me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the challenge was clear in her tone. “show me how obsessed you are.”

trent didn’t need to be told twice. he kissed her deeply, his hands sliding down her body, gripping her thighs as he shifted her closer, their bodies pressed together in a perfect fit.

y/n’s heart raced as she pulled back from the kiss, her gaze fixed on trent. she felt a rush of boldness, a spark of desire that ignited within her. without thinking, she pushed him gently back onto the bed, a teasing grin spreading across her face. “let me show you just how much i appreciate you,” she murmured, her voice sultry and inviting.

with that, she knelt between his legs, the silk of her nightie sliding over her skin like a whisper. she leaned forward, her lips brushing against his chest, her kisses soft and reverent. “i love this,” she whispered, her breath warm against his skin as she pressed her lips to his collarbone, trailing lower to the defined muscles of his chest.

“you’re so good to me, trent,” she murmured against his skin, her lips moving lower to trace the ridges of his abs. “you’ve been everything i could ever want during this pregnancy. so patient, so understanding…” she paused, placing soft kisses along his abdomen, savoring the way his muscles tensed beneath her lips.

“i love how you take care of me,” she breathed, glancing up at him, her eyes dark with desire. “and how you look in that jersey… like a dream.” she pressed a lingering kiss right above his belly button, her fingers teasingly brushing over his taut skin. “you’re so damn sexy, and it drives me crazy.”

trent groaned, his hands tangling in her hair as she continued her ministrations, her kisses igniting a fire within him. “you’re making it hard to think,” he managed, his voice thick with desire.

“good,” y/n replied, her lips now tracing the outline of his abs, her touch both light and electrifying. “i want you to lose yourself in this moment. in me.” she lavished attention on his body, each kiss a promise, each caress a testament to her adoration.

“you’ve been such a good boyfriend. oh wait that’s not right, you’ve been my perfect fiancé, ” she said between kisses, her words muffled against his skin. “i’ve been so needy, and you never complain. it’s like you love making me a monster.” she laughed softly, looking up at him with playful eyes. “you’ve created an insatiable beast.”

trent chuckled, the sound deep and rich, but his gaze was intense, filled with longing. “i’d create a million more if it means you look at me like that,” he said, his voice low and rough. “you’re beautiful like this, y/n. pregnant and glowing… it drives me out of my mind.”

she smiled, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. “well, that’s good, because i’m not stopping anytime soon.” y/n leaned in, pressing her lips to his stomach once more, her hands trailing up his sides as she kissed her way back up his chest, each kiss igniting the passion between them.

“i want you to remember how much i love you,” she whispered, her lips hovering just above his as she caught his gaze, the intensity of the moment swirling around them. “how much i love this. how much i love us.”

trent's breath hitched as her words hung in the air, thick with emotion and desire. he could see the fire in her eyes, the way she was utterly consumed by the moment. “you don’t have to remind me, y/n. i know,” he said, his voice hoarse as he reached up to caress her cheek, his thumb brushing over her lips. “you’re everything to me.”

her heart swelled at his words, and she leaned into his touch, feeling the heat radiating from his body beneath her. the silk of her nightie clung to her curves, and the way trent's eyes roamed over her made her skin tingle with anticipation. “i’m so lucky to have you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned closer, letting her body press against his.

“lucky? baby, it’s me who’s the lucky one,” trent replied, his eyes dark with a hunger that matched her own. he guided her back down to him, his lips capturing hers in a slow, passionate kiss. she melted against him, her body instinctively arching into his, craving more of his touch.

he pulled away just slightly, his forehead resting against hers, breathing heavily as he tried to regain control. “god, y/n, you make me feel things… i’m obsessed with you.” the admission was raw, heartfelt, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

“and i’m obsessed with you,” she confessed, her hands trailing down his chest, fingers splaying over his abs as she reveled in the feel of him. “especially now. especially like this.” her lips curled into a smirk as she leaned in again, peppering kisses along his jaw, savoring the taste of him, the scent of his skin.

“you’ve got me completely under your spell,” trent murmured, tilting his head to give her better access. “how is it possible that you just keep getting more beautiful?” he teased, though there was a seriousness behind his words that made her heart flutter.

“stop it,” she laughed lightly, a soft blush creeping up her cheeks. “you’re going to make me shy.” she couldn’t help but lean in for another kiss, deeper this time, her body instinctively shifting to straddle his lap as she enveloped herself in his warmth.

“shy? with me?” he chuckled, but the playful tone was edged with desperation, his hands gripping her waist as if anchoring her to him. “you’re not allowed to be shy. not now. not ever.”

y/n bit her lip, feeling bold and adventurous. “well, maybe i’ll just have to remind you all the ya i’m not shy,” she teased, her fingers sliding down to the hem of her nightie, teasingly lifting it to expose more of her skin to him.

“fuck,” he groaned, his eyes widening in a mix of awe and desire as he took in the sight of her. “you really are a monster, aren’t you?” he said, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “how did i ever create this?” 

“just you wait,” she said, her voice sultry as she leaned forward, her lips brushing against his ear, her breath hot against his skin. “i’m just getting started.”

© PDRIESTA 2024

[lemonsrosesandlavender]

Fae Bindings//2

Rolan x Fae reader, first chapter here (or read on AO3!)

Warnings: corsets/body mod, fae seduction/Rolan-desperation-related dubious consent, under-negotiated kink. Rolan’s bad game ending, Lorroakan abuse references. Future D/s relationship, discipline. Mild blood play. Restraints. Sounding.

Explicit below the cut!

Rolan turns away from you before he strips, drawing in ragged and uncertain breaths.

‘Second thoughts?’ you ask. Give him a choice. Give him ten choices, safe in the knowledge he’ll say -

‘No.’

He pulls the tarnished mantle from his shoulders, drags off his scuffed boots and worn trousers until he is dressed in nothing but his red undershirt. The picture he presents is uncertain, shame-ridden; hunched defensively into his crossed arms, and his tail twisted about his ankles.

You pluck the shimmering corset from its hiding place, and pad back over to him.

‘Remove your shirt, too,’ you murmur, your breaths like a soft breeze against his neck. Rolan shivers, gasps a little - but he holds himself resolutely, miserably steady.

‘I thought such garments were worn over shirts. It… is bad for the skin, to wear them without.’

‘So, Rolan, you have worn such things before?’ Your hands find his waist, tracing the faint curve that exists there now. You know full well he hasn’t; not in any of the dream visions that you saw.

‘No,’ he says, quietly. ‘I have no time for such… vanities.’

That, though, is not true. You saw a time when his hair was carefully twisted and styled, instead of hanging loose and unkempt over his shoulders. A time where his mantle was painstakingly shined, and his claws as sharp and beautiful as any fae creature’s could hope to be. Now, they have been cut down to stumps.

‘You will have all the time in the world, with me.’

Rolan twists around, tears in his eyes.

‘Are you sure? Do you really want me? Do not deceive me. Please. I cannot bear any more disappointment.’

‘Of course,’ you tell him. ‘Of course.’ Putting the corset down, you lead him by the hand to the tree that pierces through your lair from floor to ceiling, twisted round with knife-flowers.

‘What happened to your lovely claws?’

Rolan winces, his cheek twitching. ‘My master. Requires that I do not scare the customers, any more than necessary.’ His tone, at first painstakingly neutral, suddenly twists into quiet, bitter sarcasm. ‘If he cared about what our customers thought, he could aim his fist in less obvious places.’

You listen to every waver in his tone, every sway towards rebellion or defeat. A man still wishing for more, somewhere below the surface.

Reaching out, you touch his face, see his shoulders drop an inch in relief at the admission and your gentleness. Then, abruptly, they rise again.

‘I don’t deserve this,’ he gasps, tears welling in his eyes. ‘Cal and Lia died because of me. I tried to blame someone else, but it was my own wretched foolishness, my own hubris -‘

‘Hush,’ you murmur, imparting the word with just enough magic to soothe, to let you wipe the tear from his cheeks before he spills another. ‘Every mortal makes mistakes. You have paid for yours far too many times over.’

‘It could never be enough!’ he whispers. ‘I know… I know that you are using your magic to calm me.’ He shakes his head. ‘Do whatever you like. It will not change my mind. I should despise myself.’

‘Spend enough time with me, and you will find yourself perceiving mortality differently. I ask nothing of you but that you try. That you accept that somewhere deep with inside, there is a part of you that might deserve better. At the very least. Your master is not deserving of you.’

Rolan’s flicker to yours, his grimace softening from anguish to mere uncertainty, and less by the second.

‘I suppose so,’ he admits.

‘Your siblings would not have wanted to you to suffer. They wanted to see you a powerful wizard - yes, even Lia -’

You see him frown, hesitating to believe it - but so close -

‘Let me show you,’ you murmur. ‘Take one gift from me at least.’

‘I…’ He swallows. ‘Alright.’

You settle one arm around his waist, your other hand guiding his, until the tender pads of his fingers meet the sharp edges of the knife-flower, and he gasps as the silvery petals draw blood.

‘Why -’

But his question is answered before he can finish it. From the smarting, beading cuts on his fingers flows magic, magic that strokes over his claws until they are long and beautiful once more, that weaves his skin back together until nothing but a pearl of blood is left of each wound; and you lap that away with your tongue, tasting an iron willingly given, that sates where it would otherwise destroy.

Rolan groans, shivering at the feeling of your tongue on his fingers.

‘Gods,’ he whispers, clutching at you. ‘You said you would take me, so take me, Gods-damnit.’

‘Then remove your shirt.’

‘Yes -’

He yanks it off, as if he is suddenly glad to be rid of it. His cock is stiffened, not yet full but -

‘Ah - ’ he groans, as your own sharp nails tease softly over his skin, rolling down his foreskin tenderly as his cock swells to your touch. One more caress, and it is leaking. Such easily, wantonly given gifts. You lick that from your fingers too, finding in just a few drops such pleasure that you wish to swallow the whole. It must wait, though.

‘Put your arms up,’ you murmur, stepping behind him, and slip the corset around him. The first, loose lacing you weave with magic; a smooth, quick instruction to the cord to prepare itself, snaking in and out of finely-worked eyelets. Rolan’s breath is heightened; arousal, most certainly, but nervousness alongside it.

‘Is this… will I be able to take it off?’

You press a kiss to his shoulder, his wingtip, his spine, before you answer.

‘Why would you want to take it off?’

‘Zurgan - ’ He twists around, putting his clawed hand over yours as you gather up the laces. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Rolan.’ You let a little firmness wind into your voice. So little trust in you, to want the right thing for him.

‘Ah - it does not matter,’ he whispers. ‘So what if it fuses to me? I can be no worse off.’

‘That is a poor way to look at a gift.’

‘You are right. I am sorry.’

‘It is alright,’ you whisper, feeling pity for his too-quick surrender. ‘It is true. You will not be able to remove it. Even if you could, your body will be shaped by it, the muscles that once held you upright wasted away; eventually, you would not be able to sit upright without it. But that is nothing to the pleasures of being bound. All of the weight you carry on your shoulders… it will carry it for you. I will carry it for you.’

A gasp catches in his throat, his fingers no longer staying yours but seeking reassurance. His head is bowed; you raise it, meeting a little resistance at first, but as your lips brush his neck he arches it back of his own accord, whimpering.

With a snap of your fingers, you order the vines back on the tree, enough to make space for Rolan.

‘Are you ready?’

He nods quietly.

‘Then brace yourself.’

He tentatively reaches his arms up - and the vines catch them, dragging his wrists upwards.

‘Oh -’

Rolan slumps face-first against the trunk, and then immediately straightens, remembering he is about to be laced.

You pull the cords softly, carefully evening them out, ready to begin.

‘Oh Gods,’ he whispers. ‘Please.’

‘Are you afraid?’

‘No,’ he lies, but you can smell it on him. It is… intoxicating. Soon, he will learn that he has nothing to fear from you; he will understand you as well as any mortal could. But for now, you breathe it in deeply, holding the laces out as you shift forms to rut against him, first with a clit, hot and pulsing; and then a thick, hard cock.

Rolan’s tail twists round your ankle as he gasps and moans, trying awkwardly to stifle the sound but to little effect.

‘Gods - you - ah -’

‘Shhh.’

Stepping back, you begin to pull; not tight, yet, just enough that the corset begins to follow his shape, sitting close against his skin. The knife-flowers inch closer to him on the vine, making him jerk his head up.

‘Why are they -’

‘They want to be close to you. My lair breathes with all of my want.’

He doesn’t understand yet, but you can show him. You coax another, blossomless vine up between his legs, tenderly wrapping around his cock; teasing over the head, the slit -

‘Zurgan - gods - nnnnnnnhhhhhh -’

His knees buckle as the vine presses inside him, sliding down his cock slit.

‘Breathe out,’ you murmur, pulling the laces tighter. Rolan nods but… for some reason the poor mortal can’t control his breathing at all. He’s gasping raggedly, shaking as the vine fills him as deeply as it can.

‘I - am - Gods -’

You reach around and stroke his cock gently. ‘Do you feel it now? How I want you? Do you like it?’

‘Yes,’ he whimpers, his voice wet with tears. ‘You - if you keep touching me I will -’

‘Not yet,’ you tell him. He will come for you, so many times - but not yet. ‘We have more lacing to do.’

‘I see,’ he whispers.

The flowers, too, crowd around him, their soft undersides brushing his wrists.

You murmur into his ear, letting go of his cock to grasp the laces once more. ‘Be good for me. Breathe.’

‘Yes - oh -‘

Though he twitches and whimpers, he stays in place, holding himself against the tree so that you can pull, slowly, tighter - tighter

‘Nnnnhh!’

- tighter -

Rolan pants, grasping the tendrils that bind him. ‘I - feel like I cannot breathe - ‘

‘You can,’ you purr in his ear. ‘You can. Your body is not yet used to the feeling but… soon you will know it well. Do not panic.’

You draw the vine out of his cock a little; press it back in. Remind him, reassure him of your want, your power, your determination that he will feel pleasure, even if he feels like he does not deserve it. Of course, it is only overwhelming him more but… he will be thinking less of his breath and more about his aching, needy cock.

‘Ah! Ah - nnnhh - ohh -‘

‘Just a little more,’ you say, kissing his neck. ‘Steady yourself -‘

You coax the cords tight, taking pleasure in his body’s resistance, the close embrace of corset against skin, rising up to clasp his ribcage and down to kiss his hips, the bones rearranging themselves to fit around his tail as neatly as if it had always been intended for a tiefling. It was made for your beloved, after all; and now you know him, it has re-worked itself to his image.

Rolan gasps as you pull the laces one more time, binding them off with a firm tug.

‘Is it done?’

‘For today.’ You run your finger down his back, over an undulating pattern of cord and ridge, the open inches of lacing gap a luscious come-on. So much room to shape him, make him your own.

‘How does it look?’ he asks, a little stiltedly.

‘Beautiful,’ you murmur.

Your hand slips back to his pleasingly hard cock, surveying the lust that you have awakened; thick and hot and throbbing , grown more desperate with every further constriction until he now jerks and spasms at the lightest touch.

‘Are you sure?’ he whimpers. ‘I… would like to see.’

‘I promise, you will see yourself in the mirror soon. I would not deny you such a vision. But first…’

Softly, you call back the vines from his hands, and from his now surely aching slit, kissing his cheek as his shoulders drop and his hands reach searchingly for his waist. You catch them gently.

‘Let me take care of you.’

[lucianalight]

I think the key here is that Agatha survived (as she was supposed to) and Billy actually died. Thus Billy was meant to go with Rio while Agatha was not. Since Billy jumped into another body instead of going to the afterlife, he essentially broke the cycle of life and dead. That's what Rio is angry about, not the act of surviving. I do think that line could have been written better (and yes, please stop using that word mcu), but I don't think it's entirely ooc for Rio to pursue Billy for this. For the same reason, she doesn't want him to bring back Tommy. If Billy and Tommy just start jumping into another body every time they die, they would essentially live forever, which they're not supposed to. Also, I think Rio should've been equally pissed about Thanos just snapping half of everyone and everything away, which broke the same rule.

@catlady48 I waited to read this interview with Jac to answer your comments.

She specifically says they developed Rio as neutral the way nature is. And that Rio has no real control over circumstances of somebody's demise. We also know she can't kill people and that she needs for Billy to turn himself in. She can't take Tommy as well. Because technically neither Billy nor Tommy are dead. Otherwise there wouldn't be an issue for Rio to take them. They just don't have bodies because their physical bodies depended on the existence of the Hex. The Hex is gone and Billy can jump into the closest dead body because of his magical abilities. Tommy can't and needs his help. So they survive. If Rio is like nature why would she care that they found a way to keep living? Many other creatures find ways to survive in weird and more terrifying ways. It's how nature is.

Jac says she did research theories about time for ep 7. Which I think it's one of the reasons that makes ep 7 fantastic. Because it not only matches the mcu world building about the workings of time and free will from Loki series, but also it's close to actual scientific theories. According to this world building in mcu free will exists, nothing is set to stone and people keep making new branches of time aka universes by their different decisions. Therefore "this person is supposed to die at this time" doesn't match the world building. In Nicky's case Rio can offer time because Nicky was ill. Some fatal illnesses can be delayed but can't be healed so it makes sense with the world building.

Moreover taking Agatha instead of Billy doesn't really fix the Billy-can-reincarnate-if-he-is-killed problem. So if Billy should have died why take someone else? This is a plothole that bothers me.

I agree about her being angry with what Thanos did. Because the dusted people didn't die, they ceased to exist. Since no one actually came back from afterlife. But erasing Death from that plotline is Russo's fault.

There were issues with these last episodes. Billy was a bit inconsistent with his characterisation in episode 5/6 and I thought the way they wrote out Jen was really messy. And the way they wrapped it up was also questionable. Also, the Agatha and Rio dynamic seems to be inconsistent as well and that actually bugged me more about Rio's characterisation than the balance thing. No idea what happened with these episodes, but it is a drop in quality in my opinion. Then again, this is the mcu, expectations are low.

I didn't find issues with these but I agree that there was a drop in quality. And I think it's mainly because they didn't take time to show us more of Agatha's background and her relationship with Rio. We should have seen more of her backstory before and after Rio. We should have seen why she thought her only way to survive was killing witches. We should have seen what her love and life was like with Rio and before Nicky. That way their final fight would have been more emotionally charged rather than feeling anticlimactic. Because we would have known the depth of their hurt and pain and what they have lost. And the pov change from Agatha to Billy happened too soon. We should have seen that fight.

Imo Agatha, as the protagonist, has the messiest most unsatisfying arc and there are still so many questions about her went unanswered that should have been explored in a series focusing on her. I wish they'd spent more time on her and showed us what they had talked about for writing her story, instead of keep telling us those details in interviews like how Rio and Agatha have so much history. Show, don't tell rule etc.

"He is an abomination. He is disrupting the sAcRAd balance."

This is the line I have a lot of issues with in regard to the portrayal of Rio. Rio is the original green witch, which makes her also Death. She was meant to symbolize the duality of life and death and their inseparable connection. The constant cycle of birth, growth, death in nature. Maiden, mother, crone. The mother nature.

And nature, has no balance. Let alone a "sacred" one(honestly if I hear the word one more time in mcu I'm gonna scream). In fact chaos is the most natural state of nature and evolution, and the flow of life, is about nothing but survival.

Now the story of course can make up its own rules and world building. It doesn't have to be factually correct. But they developed Rio as a force of nature. Not evil, not kind and motherly. A reality that exists and can be both and neither.

As a character she understands that Agatha's coven and her mother considering her evil and a monster of nature is wrong. If only they teached her instead of shunning her things would turn out differently. She understands that Agatha trying to survive her execution is not evil, it's just her trying to survive.

She fell in love with a survivor. Why she's calling Billy an abomination for the same thing? And Billy hasn't kill anyone to survive. He just jumped in an already dead body.

So this line is directly in contrast with her characterization. I understand that they wanted to up the stakes for Billy to get Agatha sacrificing herself for him. But I don't like the way they went about it because it's inconsistent with what they established from the start.

[getting-messi]

I’m really debating how much I love Barcelona right now.

Their response to Messi’s move is honestly disgusting.

[dykedvonte]

Danse has to get homesick In Sanctuary. Like despite being uncertain of how much his past is real including times with the Brotherhood, those memories were home. The Brotherhood was home especially the Prydwen.

No matter all the comfort and the luxuries SoSu could put to make him feel more relaxed or like it’s his space it’s still not home. It’s so unique to him cause everyone else has a home in a sense. A thing or place they can come and go to as they please while Danse doesn’t. He can never go back to the people he considered family and they can never go to him without serious consequences. It doesn’t help that (due to his own faults and beliefs) a good majority of the new people in his life do not exactly like him.

It’s so isolating for him as the wasteland is also a different culture in general. Theres so much he’s not used to vs what he is. But all in all I think that’s a good thing. I feel as if Danse had a better arc in game it would 100% have him learning or developing a sense of home before a sense of self. I think it gets overlooked that Danse is a person that likes or feels like he needs to belong to something. A cause, a philosophy, a mission. He needs a goal. He must learn to live for himself and his purpose but it’s clear he wants to find that through something which is why he latches onto the Sole Survivor after rather than just wander the wastes. He needs something, anything to base a sense of self on at this point in time and who better than the person that opened their home to him in the first place.

He’s a dude that needs a foundation or home to ground himself on or else he doesn’t know what to do with himself or even start.

[eksperimentgaj]

hey, look, I managed to draw something

danger noodle/medusa (with Lando being the biggest danger noodle in the picture)

inspired by Mr. Norris' Vegas helmet