#also like I was gonna hand my resignation in next week anyway
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freckleslikestars · 7 months ago
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Just really need a fuckin hug
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agentstarkid · 14 days ago
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TENGO UN CORAZÓN QUE ESTÁ PERDIENDO LA CABEZA ✦ DR3
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✦ PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader
✦ CHECKERED FLAG: 7.7K words
✦ TRACK LIMITS: yearning, angst, tenderness, fondness, found family (I guess?), 2-year-old menace, spanish and portuguese are spoken, complicated feelings, Daniel interacting with a toddler—hormones and uterus could experience feelings a lil bit (mine did ngl).
✦ MAY'S RADIO: Two chapters in less than a month? Who am I?? 🤭 All I gotta say is that Iza is my MVP because she took matters into her own (tiny) hands! It was so much fun writing her personality, I based her on my niece who's a mini tornado herself 😆 Also, a few weeks ago I made moodboards and headcanons for The Girls™, gonna leave the links below if you wanna know them even more <3. Anyways, I'm excited for this chapter!!! Hope you guys like it 💛
Part of The Joker & The Queen series | Set at the end of Revenant.
Divider by: cafekitsune
Meet: Fiorella | Vittoria | Danna
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Little traitor.
The thought repeats in your head like a mantra as you glance at the 35-inch whirlwind currently glued to Daniel’s leg. Iza’s bright giggles echo through the room, and her tiny hands clutch his shorts like he’s her favorite person in the world—which, admittedly, isn’t far from the truth. She’s always been attached to her godfather. But today? Today, she seems to be on a mission to play matchmaker in her two-year-old way, blissfully unaware of the tension crackling between her chosen victims.
Ever since your flight landed a little over four hours ago, it’s been one emotional ambush after another, all orchestrated by Miss Izabele Abigail Sousa-Allen. She decided you wouldn’t have a moment of peace during your visit, dragging you and Daniel into joint tea parties, coloring sessions, and even a very competitive game of hide-and-seek where she demanded you both hide together. 
(How could you say no to her when she looked at you with her little frown and pouty lips, tiny arms crossed demanding you to do what she wanted? It was adorable and scary at the same time—have you experienced the wrath of a 2-years-old? Definitely not recommended.)
And now, as she tugged on Daniel’s hand and yours simultaneously, her intentions became crystal clear.
“Again!” she demanded, her big brown eyes sparkling with mischief. “All three!”
Vitto, hovering nearby, let out a resigned sigh. “Iza, maybe Tia and Tio need a break—”
“No break!” she interrupted, stomping her little foot for emphasis. Like previously said, her determination was adorable and terrifying all at once. “Together!”
You catched Vitto’s apologetic glance as she scooped Iza up in her arms, trying to wrangle her away. “Bebê, let’s give them some space, okay? Maybe they need a little break to rest," Vitto said with a gentle smile, trying to redirect Iza’s enthusiasm.
Iza frowned, her little brows furrowing as she processed her mom’s words. “But they do nothing,” she said earnestly, her tone filled with the simple logic only a child could muster.
You stifled a laugh, pressing your lips together as Daniel scratched the back of his neck, clearly at a loss for words.
“Well,” Vitto tried again, shifting tactics, “grown-ups get tired faster, bebê. Why don’t you let them rest while we do something fun? Like bake your birthday cake?”
Iza’s face lit up at the mention of cake. “pinkles?” she asked, her tone suddenly bright and hopeful.
“Of course,” Andrew chimed in from the doorway, already rolling up his sleeves. “All the sprinkles you want, my little love.”
That was all it took. Iza squealed in delight, her earlier mission forgotten as she wiggled free from Vitto’s arms, her tiny feet pattering across the floor. Her and Andrew followed closely behind—with the Brazilian in the rearguard, who sent you a look over her shoulder letting you know she was sorry—leaving you and Daniel alone in the living room once again.
Where the hell was everyone else in this house? 
‘We’ll make sure it’s all smooth for you’ yeah, sure.
(A house full of traitors.)
The silence that settled felt heavy, the absence of Iza’s chatter amplifying the slight tension between you. You shifted awkwardly, biting the inner skin of your cheek, unsure whether to laugh or bolt.
“She’s persistent,” Daniel finally said, a small smile tugging at his lips.
You nodded, crossing your arms in a feeble attempt to shield yourself. “She gets it from Vitto.”
“She’s also got great timing,” Daniel said with a soft chuckle.
“Yeah,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. “She always knows how to make things… interesting.”
Daniel nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. “She’s grown a lot. It’s hard to believe she’s already two.”
“Almost two,” you corrected, glancing toward the kitchen where laughter and the clatter of mixing bowls filled the air. “Feels like just yesterday she was a tiny little human. Uh, I mean she’s still tiny but-” you rushed to clarify. (Why? the fuck if you knew. Great, if this is how the whole week is gonna turn out as then you were in for the time of your life—Take a deep breath, don’t let it get to you.) “you know what I meant.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on you now instead of the kitchen. “Time flies.”
You met his eyes briefly, but the weight of his stare was too much. You looked away, pretending to adjust a cushion on the couch. “Well, she’s definitely keeping us on our toes.”
“That’s Iza for you,” he said with a small smile, his voice tinged with something you couldn’t quite place—nostalgia, maybe? Were you reading too much into it? most likely.
Before you could respond, a loud crash came from the kitchen, followed by Iza’s giggles and Andrew’s exasperated, “Iza, baby, no! Not the whole bag of sprinkles!”
You both laughed, the sound easing some of the tension between you. For a brief moment, it felt like old times—before everything got complicated. But just as quickly, reality crept back in, and the apparent unshakeable tension hung heavily in the air once more.
You cleared your throat, straightening up as if that would physically distance you from the awkwardness. “Well,” you began, your voice deliberately light, “I should probably go and take a shower before the little hurricane comes back and ropes us into another game. Or something worse.” you said quickly, glancing toward the hallway. “Anyway, I’ll see you around.” 
You turned before he could respond, hoping to escape whatever this was. His quiet laugh followed you as you reached the doorframe.
Your name was voiced and you paused, your hand resting on the doorframe. For a second, you debated pretending you didn’t hear him, but curiosity—or maybe something deeper—got the better of you. 
You turned to face him, your expression carefully neutral. “Yeah?”
He hesitated, his eyes scanning your face as if searching for the right words, his usual confidence replaced with something more. “I just… I’m glad you’re here.”
The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. Finally, you managed a small smile. “Me too,” you said softly, though whether it was entirely true, you weren’t sure.
As you walked down the hall, the distant sound of Iza’s giggles were a welcome distraction. But no matter how hard you tried to focus on anything else, the weight of those four words followed you, their meaning tugging at a part of you you weren’t ready to face yet.
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You wandered through the halls of the mediterranean-style house fresh out of the shower, focused on typing frantically in the groupchat, when the hallway ended abruptly—well, not ended, more like it got obstructed making you drop your phone in the process.
“Sorry, sorry,” you heard followed by a chuckle, “didn’t see ya.”
You looked up to the talking wall just to find a radiant smile and crinkled eyes staring back at you. “Oh, no, no, it was my fault,” you rushed to say, bending down to pick up the phone, “should’ve paid more attention.” 
For a moment, you didn’t move—your eyes locked on the inked skin that entered your sight as he reached for the mobile, too. The number 3 on his pinkie, the treble clef on his wrist, and the veins running down his hand, tracing a path up his forearm and disappearing beneath the sleeve of his shirt. It was stupid how familiar they were, how easily they could pull you back into memories you weren’t ready to relive.
(or that you shouldn’t relive, for that matter.)
Daniel noticed. Of course, he did.
When you lifted your eyes and met his stare fixed already on you, you could feel the warmth creeping up your neck to your face. But instead of a cocky grin, as you expected, his expression softened, and for a moment his eyes roamed your face as if he was studying and memorizing it before he cleared his throat.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice quieter than before, almost hesitant.
You blinked, forcing yourself out of whatever moment you had just fallen into. “Yeah,” you said quickly, gripping your phone a little tighter. “Just… distracted.”
He nodded, not pushing, though his eyes lingered on you for a second longer. “Guess I should’ve been watching where I was going too,” he admitted, stepping back to give you space. “Didn’t mean to, you know—” he gestured vaguely toward where you had collided “—block your way.”
“It’s fine,” you assured him, brushing a hand through your damp hair. “this your room?” you pointed to the door he just came out of. (Geez, why would you even ask him that?.)
“Huh? oh.” he chuckled softly, a hand absentmindedly rubbing his neck. “Yeah, yeah. It’s uh- It’s been my unofficial room since they moved here”
“Oh, nice.” you nodded, and an awkward silence fell over the two. Why was it so awkward to have a conversation when a month ago at the wedding you guys got to have a normal one?—admittedly it wasn’t a walk in the park, but it wasn’t as painfully awkward as now.  “Well, I should go find Fio and Danna, see what they’re up to. Apparently, they were checking out the new fruit stand on the next block,” you added, playfully rolling your eyes.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, “Yeah. They've been out for a while. Probably causing trouble. Bet Danna’s already made friends with the owner.”
“Probably,” you agreed with a smirk. “And Fio’s probably negotiating the price of fruits like it’s a business deal.”
Daniel’s lips twitched into a fond smile. “Some things never change.”
You nodded back, offering a quick smile before you both turned the corner, your heart drumming a little too loudly in your chest.
Damn it.
Neither of you said anything as you made your way toward the living room, where the little hurricane stood in front of the TV, mesmerized by a colorful kid’s show about a farmer and his animals. Andrew was sprawled out on the sofa, lazily typing on his phone, and from the kitchen, bursts of feminine laughter spilled into the space.
At the sound of your footsteps, Andy looked up, his eyes flickering between you and Daniel in a quick, almost imperceptible movement. Then, as if deciding not to comment, he simply nodded toward the kitchen. “Girls are in there,” he said.
You didn’t need to be told twice. “Thanks,” you muttered, seizing the chance to slip away while Daniel moved to take a seat next to him.
Iza, still planted in front of the TV, was now dressed in pink pajamas, her hair styled into two tiny space buns, and—most curiously—a backpack with a cute cow face strapped onto her shoulders.
(Apparently, she had decided, out of the blue, that pajamas were the outfit of choice for the evening.) 
Daniel leaned back against the couch, a small, amused smile playing on his lips as he took in Iza’s new look. “Nice fit, princess,” he mused, watching as she clutched absentmindedly the straps of her tiny backpack with little hands.
Iza, without turning away from the TV, rocked back and forth on her heels to the rhythm of the kid’s song before finally glancing over at them. “Pajamas,” she stated matter-of-factly, as if that alone explained everything.
Andrew snorted, setting his phone down. “She threw a whole speech about why she needed to wear them now. Something about the cow backpack and how they match.”
Daniel hummed, nodding solemnly. “Well, can’t argue with that logic.”
Iza gave him a satisfied look before shifting her attention fully to them. Her big brown eyes flickered between the two men, her little mind clearly working through something. Then, with all the dramatic energy a nearly-two-year-old could muster, she clapped her hands together and ran, throwing her little body face down over the space between them. “Okay.”
Daniel and Andrew exchanged a glance. “Okay… what, baby?” Andy asked warily, rubbing her back.
She pointed at them, then at the TV. “You watch Bluey now.”
Daniel chuckled, raising a brow at Andrew. “Guess we don’t have a choice.”
Andrew sighed, rubbing his face. “Nope. None at all.”
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, you leaned against the counter, watching as Fio animatedly recounted their fruit stand adventure with Danna to Vitto.
“—and then I told the guy, ‘No way you’re selling those mangoes for that price.’ I mean, I respect a hustle, but come on. You can get better and bigger ones for half that back home in PR,” Fio huffed, shaking her head as she dramatically recounted the story.
Danna shook her head, laughing. “You’re actually insufferable.”
“You’re welcome,” Fio shot back with a grin before noticing you. “Ah, there she is. Survived your little playdate?”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Barely.”
Vitto, ever observant, arched a brow. “Daniel still being… Daniel?”
You hesitated, not really sure how to answer that. “He’s… I don’t know. He’s different. But also, not? It’s weird.”
Fio furrowed her brows and narrowed her eyes. “Weird how?”
“Chill, Rambo, no need to kill anyone.” A short, humored laugh escaped you as you sat on one of the counter stools. You exhaled, crossing your arms. “Like… he’s trying. But not in a way that makes it obvious. It’s subtle, like he wants to be careful.”
Danna raised an eyebrow. “Careful because of you or careful because of Rúben?”
That was the question, wasn’t it? You weren’t sure you had the answer.
The weight of Danna’s question settled between you all, unspoken yet heavy. You busied yourself by reaching for a slice of mango from the bowl on the counter, chewing thoughtfully.
“I don’t know,” you admitted finally, voice quieter. “Maybe both.”
Fio watched you closely, then sighed. “That man still loves you.”
You shot her a look. “Fio—”
“What? I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.” She gestured vaguely around the kitchen, earning a few exchanged glances from Vitto and Danna. “You’re over here acting like it’s some great mystery when it’s not.”
Danna, ever the voice of reason, leaned on the counter. “Okay, but does it even matter? He had his chance. And you moved on.”
Moved on. Right.
You nodded, as if agreeing, but something about those words settled uncomfortably in your chest.
Vitto, sensing the shift in your mood, quickly changed the subject. “Alright, enough about that. Let’s talk about something that doesn’t involve a walking emotional landmine.” She smirked. “Like what we’re doing for Iza’s birthday.”
Grateful for the out, you straightened. “Please tell me we’re not doing another ‘Iza commands us all’ day like the last Día de los Niños.”
Danna groaned. “God, no. I’m still recovering from the endless rounds of hide and seek.”
Fio grinned. “Joke’s on you, I actually enjoyed that.”
Laughter filled the kitchen as the conversation shifted to party planning, decorations, and the ridiculous number of snacks Iza had requested. For a moment, the tension from earlier faded into the background.
But even as you laughed along, the thought lingered in your mind—Daniel was being careful. With you. With himself. With whatever was left between you.
And you weren’t sure if that was better or worse.
Suddenly, the sound of tiny, determined footsteps filled the kitchen, and in the next second, Iza came barreling in, running straight to Vitto’s legs. She clung to her mother, her little arms wrapping around as much as she could reach.
“Mamãe, uppie!” she demanded, bouncing on her toes and her little arms reaching towards her.
Vitto chuckled, effortlessly scooping her up. “You’re getting too big, meu amor,” she teased, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s cheek.
Iza, completely ignoring the comment, turned her attention to the counter, where the bowl of mangoes sat. She stretched her tiny arms toward it, fingers wiggling with determination. “Quero!”
“What do we say when we want something, Izabele?” Vitto pulled her away from the counter, giving her the mom look.
“Pweeeeeeeease” she said, tilting her head with doe eyes and a big, innocent smile.
Danna, being the closest, plucked a slice from the bowl and held it out. “Here you go, honey.”
Iza’s eyes lit up, “Fank yoo!” She eagerly grabbed the mango, taking a big bite. Juice instantly dribbled down her chin, but she was too busy enjoying the fruit to care.
Vitto shook her head fondly, grabbing a napkin to dab at her daughter’s face. “Ai, Iza…”
Fio watched the scene with amusement before nudging Iza’s little foot. “Alright, troublemaker, what’s the plan for your big day? What does the birthday girl want to do?”
Iza, still chewing, blinked at them before swallowing dramatically. She then grinned, her excitement bubbling over. “O aquário!”
Danna and Fio exchanged a look, while you looked at the little hurricane fondly.
“The aquarium?” Vitto clarified, adjusting Iza on her hip.
Iza nodded enthusiastically. “Sim! Fishies!”
Fio smirked, leaning toward you. “Guess we’re hanging out with fish.”
You laughed softly, brushing a few stray curls from Iza’s forehead. “Better than another hide-and-seek marathon.” Then, tilting your head at the little girl's mom, you added, “By the way, her bilingual skills are getting really good. At this rate, I think she expresses herself better in Portuguese than in English.”
Vitto let out a laugh, bouncing Iza lightly in her arms. “She might, yeah.” A mischievous glint flickered in her eyes. “I may or may not encourage her to speak more Portuguese when Andy isn’t around.”
Fio gasped dramatically. “You’re sabotaging your own baby daddy?”
Danna smirked. “No wonder she sounds like a tiny Brazilian grandma sometimes.”
Vitto shrugged, unbothered. “It’s funny. Especially when she talks to him in full Portuguese, and he just stares at her like she’s casting a spell.”
You burst out laughing at the mental image. “Please tell me you have videos.”
Vitto smirked. “Obviously.”
Just then, Iza pointed a tiny finger at her mom’s face. “Mamãe, peixe!” she demanded, reminding them of her plans.
Vitto sighed dramatically, adjusting Iza on her hip. “Alright, xuxú, how about this—we go to the aquarium after your birthday party? That way, we have the whole day to see all the fish. Sound good?”
Iza blinked, processing the deal.
“In the meantime,” Vitto continued smoothly, “we can go on a little adventure today.”
Iza’s interest visibly piqued, her tiny eyebrows raising. “’Ventura?”
“Yes, an adventure!” Vitto nodded, playing into the excitement. “We need to go to the market and find all the special ingredients for Mamãe’s coxinhas. And maybe… just maybe… there are some big, juicy mangoes waiting for you there.”
At the mention of mangoes, Iza lit up like a firework. “Manga?!”
You exchanged a knowing look with Fio and Danna. The kid was officially sold.
“Yes, manga,” Vitto confirmed, grinning. “But first, you need to go change out of your pajamas, okay?”
Before Vitto could even set her down, Iza was already wiggling to be put on the floor. The moment her feet touched the ground, she bolted out of the kitchen. “Papai! Unkie Nanel! ’Ventura!”
You all watched her disappear, her little voice echoing down the hall.
Vitto shook her head with a soft chuckle. “They better not put her in something ridiculous.”
“Oh, they absolutely will,” Danna deadpanned.
A few minutes later, Iza came sprinting back into the kitchen—now fully dressed head to toe in custom-made Enchanté apparel, a tiny washed-red cap, a crisp white shirt, and green shorts that gave her the appearance of a little explorer. Her curls peeked out from under the cap, her big eyes shining with excitement as she spread her arms wide, striking a dramatic pose.
And you couldn't lie—she looked adorable.
“I be Unkie Nanel!” She declared proudly.
And right behind her, sauntering in with the most shit-eating grin you’d ever seen, was Daniel. His hands were tucked into his pockets, and he was watching Iza with a fondness that made something shift in your chest.
“Oh my God,” Fio wheezed. “You turned her into a walking billboard.”
Daniel, utterly unbothered, crouched down next to Iza and tapped her tiny cap. “Gotta start ‘em young,” he said with a smirk.
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “You look way cooler than Uncle Daniel, bubba.”
Daniel placed a dramatic hand on his chest, feigning offense. “Excuse me, Iza, are you just gonna let her disrespect us like that?”
Iza giggled and grabbed his hand, squeezing it in reassurance as if she actually understood the teasing.
You should’ve looked away, walked off, said something sarcastic to break the moment. But you didn’t.
Instead, your gaze lingered.
Watching him with her—how effortlessly he fit into this role, how natural it was for him to give Iza his full attention, how she adored him in return—made something ache deep inside you.
You hated it.
(And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t.)
Andrew, who had been observing the whole scene from the counter where he was slicing some fruit, finally spoke up.
“She does look cooler than you, mate,” he teased Daniel with a smirk, popping a piece of fruit into his mouth. “Might have to start calling her ‘Little Nanel’ from now on.”
Iza gasped excitedly. “Litto Nanel!” she repeated, absolutely thrilled with the new nickname.
Daniel shot Andrew a playful glare. “Thanks for that, Andy. Really appreciate it.”
Andrew shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. “Just saying, man, she pulls off the look better than you ever did.”
Before Daniel could retaliate, Danna, who had been watching the interaction with a knowing smile, suddenly perked up. “Wait, where’s Blake? He’s usually attached to your hip like an overgrown koala.”
Daniel chuckled, shaking his head. “He had a stopover in Miami to visit a friend. His flight got delayed, so he’s getting here later today.”
Fio let out a dramatic sigh. “So, what I’m hearing is that we won’t have our favorite Aussie for the first half of the day? Tragic.”
Daniel scoffed, playing along. “Wow. Love the support, guys.”
Andrew patted his shoulder. “You know you’re only third favorite, right?”
Daniel rolled his eyes, but there was a warmth to his smile that made it hard to tease him too much. “Wait. Who’s the second?” he tilted his head and frowned.
“Scotty.” was answered in unison.
Daniel let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. Betrayed by my own people.”
Andrew smirked. “Hey, man, Scotty’s just got that wholesome golden retriever energy. And he can do some cool tricks in the snow. Hard to compete.”
Fio nodded. “Yeah, and you? You’re more like…” she trailed off, pretending to think.
“A chaotic raccoon,” Danna finished with a grin.
Daniel gasped, placing a hand over his heart. “A raccoon? I’m the Honey Badger.”
Fio snorted. “Nah, you’re definitely more raccoon-coded.”
As they continued to joke around, you tried to distract yourself from the way your stomach flipped watching Daniel interact with your people once again—specially the toddler.
Vitto sighed with a fond smile on her face, pressing a kiss to Iza’s forehead. “Alright, Unkie Nanel Jr., let’s go get those mangoes.” She turned back to you all. “C’mon everybody, let’s get moving before this one decides she’s in charge of the whole itinerary.”
“She already is,” Danna muttered, grabbing her drink.
“Facts,” Fio agreed, grabbing her keys.
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He had always been good with kids—that was nothing new. But something about seeing him with Iza, the way he knelt down when she tugged at his shorts, how he patiently listened when she babbled about some cartoon you didn’t recognize, the way he let her climb onto his lap without hesitation—it made conflicting feelings bloom in your chest.
And it was messing with you.
You shook your head, trying to focus on something else. Anything else.
The morning was spent wandering around Ojai, stopping by vibrant farmer’s markets where stalls overflowed with fresh produce, handcrafted trinkets, and the scent of sizzling food. Iza sat happily on Andrew’s shoulders, pointing at different fruits and flowers, her tiny fingers reaching out excitedly every time she spotted something new. She made sure everyone took turns holding her hand as they walked, but most often, she sought out you and Daniel.
When you decided that the park was the next destination, the little hurricane was unstoppable. She ran from one end to the other, determined to get every single one of you involved in her games. It started with a simple game of tag, where she would giggle uncontrollably as Andrew pretended to be a big scary monster chasing after her, only to collapse dramatically whenever she tagged him back.
But the moment she spotted a couple of older kids being swung between their parents’ hands, her attention shifted entirely. She ran straight to you and Daniel, grabbing each of your hands in hers.
“I go high! Up, up!” she demanded, bouncing on her toes.
Daniel chuckled, exchanging a glance with you. “You ready for this?”
You exhaled, forcing a small smile. “Let’s do it.”
And so, with a countdown, the two of you lifted her off the ground, swinging her between you as she shrieked with joy. Again and again, she begged for “Mo’ mo’ mo’, pwease!,” her little legs kicking in the air each time she went up.
Fio snapped a picture at one point, sending you a knowing look that you chose to ignore.
Between the laughter, the bright sun, and the easy moments, it almost felt like nothing had changed. Like things weren’t complicated.
Almost.
But reality had a way of creeping in, no matter how much you tried to push it back.
As the morning stretched into the early afternoon, the group found themselves sprawled out on the grass, taking a much-needed break from Iza’s endless energy. She sat cross-legged in the middle, happily munching on a piece of mango Vitto had bought from the market.
Andrew was leaning back on his elbows, sunglasses on, looking every bit like a dad on his day off. “I swear, I don’t know where she gets this energy from. It’s like she recharges by the second.”
“She’s literally your child,” Danna pointed out, sipping from her Iced Matcha Latte.
Vitto snorted. “No, she’s my child. That’s why she’s like this.”
Daniel, who was lying on his side next to Iza, propped himself up on an elbow. “I dunno, she might just be an evolution of both of you. Maximum chaos unlocked.”
Danna hummed, tilting her head as she watched Iza try to feed her uncle what was left of her slice, and Daniel pretended to eat her hand making her squeal and giggle. “You know, if she’s maximum chaos, I can’t even imagine what your kids would be like, Danny.”
That got everyone’s attention.
Andrew snorted. “Oh man. They’d be little menaces. Just picture a tiny Ricciardo running around, making dumb jokes, riding dirt bikes, getting into trouble, grinning through it all.”
Daniel let out a laugh, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. The moment the word kids left Danna’s mouth, his gaze flickered—almost instinctively—to you.
It was quick, but you caught it.
Because how could you not?
You swallowed and forced a chuckle, keeping your expression neutral as you turned your attention back to Iza, who was now attempting to balance a mango slice on her nose. “Lord have mercy on their mom,” you said with a dramatic sigh, shaking your head.
Daniel let out a breathy laugh, but there was something behind it—something wistful. “Yeah?” he shot back, tilting his head at you. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, trying to guess which way this was going to go.  “Guess she’d have to be someone really special to handle all that chaos.”
His words were playful, but the weight behind them was impossible to ignore. There was something charged in the way he said it—like he wasn’t just talking about some hypothetical her. Like maybe, just maybe, he still pictured you in that role.
Your grip tightened slightly on your cup of fresh juice, but before you could find a response, Fio cut in with a teasing grin. “Special or completely insane.”
The group laughed, the moment breaking, but the way Daniel was still looking at you—like he was thinking of all the things left unsaid—lingered.
A bitter feeling bloomed in your chest before you could stop it. You didn’t even mean for it to happen, but the name was already forming in your mind.
You hated that it still got to you. That, even after all this time, it could still stir something ugly in the pit of your stomach. You had no right to feel this way, not when you were with someone else—not when you were supposed to have moved on.
You should have let the moment go but the words left your lips before you could think twice. “Poor Heidi.”
Daniel didn’t react right away. He just looked at you, a flicker of something crossing his face—understanding, maybe. Amusement. Or maybe it was just all in your head.
Then he smiled, small and almost... resigned. “Not really.”
You blinked, taken aback.
“She, uh—” He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “We broke up.”
Your stomach flipped.
“Oh,” was all you could manage.
Silence.
The kind that stretched too long, felt too loud despite the lack of words.
You felt it the second the shift happened, a wave rolling through the group as everyone collectively processed what he had just said.
Daniel and Heidi were over.
(You tried to suppress the blooming feeling of elation at the news.) 
Everyone knew what that would've meant before. Before everything changed. Before Rúben.
You didn’t look at anyone, but you felt the weight of their stares. Danna, Fio, Vitto—your best friends—all processing the same realization, all probably having the same conflicting thoughts, all silently worrying about you.
You kept your expression carefully neutral, forcing a small shrug. “Sorry.”
Daniel just hummed in response.
And yet, in the heavy silence that followed, you could hear everything neither of you dared to say.
You exhaled, focusing on Iza instead. The little girl, who was still buzzing with excitement, had stood up, and was a few paces away from the group twirling in circles before dramatically collapsing onto the ground with a giggle.
Daniel stretched out next to you now that the toddler wasn't occupying the place in between you both, propping himself up on his elbows as well. There was still something unreadable in his demeanor, like his thoughts were somewhere else entirely.
Fio, never one to let things go unsaid for too long, gave Daniel a sideways glance. “And what about you?” she asked casually, but there was something deliberate in the way she posed the question. “Now that you’re single again, what’s next?”
Your stomach twisted.
Daniel, to his credit, didn’t seem caught off guard. Instead, he exhaled a soft laugh, his eyes flickering over to you for a fraction of a second before settling back on the sky. “Don’t know,” he admitted, voice easy but thoughtful. “Taking my time, I guess.”
Vitto nudged him with her foot. “Taking your time? Since when do you take your time with things?”
Another soft chuckle. “Since now,” he replied, gaze still focused on the clouds drifting above. Then, almost absentmindedly, “Some things are worth waiting for.”
The weight of those words settled over you like a storm cloud, dark and full of unspoken meaning.
You swallowed, feeling Fio’s and Danna’s subtle but pointed glances.
Desperate for an out, you sat up and dusted your hands on your jean shorts. “Alright, break’s over,” you announced, your voice forced-cheerful. “Who’s ready to get Iza home before she finds another way to make us run after her?”
“She’s going to be knocked out after this,” Andrew muttered, adjusting his cap over his eyes, “Which, honestly? Won't be the worst thing.”
The group slowly followed your lead, rising to their feet, the conversation left hanging in the air like an unfinished sentence.
Daniel stood last, brushing stray grass from his shorts. His eyes met yours for the briefest moment—warm, unreadable, patient.
And just like that, you had the overwhelming feeling that this wasn’t the end of it.
Not even close.
As the group started walking, Fio fell into step beside you, bumping her shoulder against yours.
“Todo bien?” she asked, voice low.
You hesitated before giving her a short nod. “Síp.”
She didn’t look convinced. “Uh-huh. Sure.” Her eyes flickered toward Daniel—who was holding the toddler across his arms pretending she was a plane, her bright giggles making you look at them fondly—then back to you. “Just… ten cuidado, okay?”
You knew what she meant, and the worst part was, you didn’t have an answer.
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The house was buzzing with a different kind of energy now that Blake had arrived, his laughter blending into the easy hum of conversation. The sun was starting to dip below the trees, casting the living room in golden light as everyone settled in after our long day out.
You were sitting cross-legged on the couch, nursing a glass of iced coffee as you half-listened to Andrew and Blake trading stories. Sitting on a loveseat across the table, Fio had her eyes on you, sharp and knowing, waiting for the right moment to strike. She’d seen how you had been expertly avoiding Daniel all afternoon, your movements purposefully, your gaze never lingering too long in his direction. 
But she knew you. She knew you well enough to quickly recognize when something was brewing beneath the surface.
So the moment she was waiting for to strike came when Daniel entered the room, towel slung over his shoulder from a post-run shower, his damp curls sticking to his forehead. He glanced her way briefly, offering a small nod before moving toward the men on the right side of the L-shaped sectional couch. 
As soon as you noticed your ex in the room, your shoulders tensed and you quickly grabbed your phone to pretend to be interested in whatever gossip was trending on Twitter. And that was all it took for Fio to make her move.
“Acompáñame,” Fio muttered, grabbing your arm and dragging you up from the couch before you could protest. Vitto, who was leaving the kitchen just on time to witness the whole moment, followed closely behind, recognizing the brewing intervention. You barely made it to the hallway before Fio turned on you with a look that could burn holes through steel.
“Mami, what the hell is going on?” she demanded, crossing her arms.
You feigned innocence, which only made Fio roll her eyes. “Nada, Fio. Why?”
“Oh, don’t even start with that bullshit,” Fio shot back. “You’ve been weird ever since we came back. And don’t think I didn’t see the way you tensed up when lo pendejo de Daniel walked in just now.”
“Fio,” Vitto interjected, her tone softer but no less firm. “We just want to know how you’re feeling.”
You exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down your face. You knew this moment was inevitable, but you weren't ready to unpack it. Not yet.
“I’m fine,” you said, too quickly.
Fio let out a sharp laugh. “Liar. Try again.”
Vitto nudged your shoulder gently. “You’ve been avoiding him all day, even when he’s been trying to be... I don’t know, civil? Different?”
Different. That was exactly it. Daniel was different. More patient, more thoughtful. He still had that stupid, easygoing charm, but there was something else beneath it now—something more deliberate. And it made everything ten times harder.
You groaned, leaning against the wall. “It’s just—he’s here, freshly single apparently. And it’s messing with my head, okay?”
Fio softened just a fraction, but her stance was unwavering. “Be honest—do you still love him?”
The question hit you like a freight train, your breath catching in your throat.
Vitto reached for your hand. “It’s okay if you do, fofinha. We just want you to be honest with yourself.”
You swallowed hard, looking down at your linked hands. You could feel the truth clawing at your chest, but admitting it out loud felt too dangerous. Too real. So instead, you whispered, “I love Rúben.”
Neither of them doubted that you did. But love wasn’t simple, and you all knew it.
Fio sighed, rubbing her temples. “Mira, all I’m saying is—if this is hurting you, you need to face it. You can’t keep pushing it down.”
You closed your eyes, exhaling slowly. “I know.”
Vitto squeezed your hand before stepping back. “Come on, let’s get back before they start thinking we killed you or something.”
You let out a tired chuckle.
You three made your way back, and you couldn’t shake the weight in your chest. Because for the first time in a long time, you weren't sure if you could keep running from this.
As you stepped back into the living room, the warmth of conversation and soft laughter wrapped around you like a protective shield. Blake was animatedly recounting some ridiculous story, his hands moving in exaggerated gestures while Andrew cackled beside him. The scene was so effortlessly lighthearted that, for a brief moment, you almost let yourself slip back into the comfort of it.
Almost.
Daniel was still there.
Still real.
Still encompassing all your senses.
But before you could settle back into your spot on the couch, Vitto’s hand closed gently around your wrist. “Wanna help me finish dinner?,” she asked, her voice light, but you knew her well enough to recognize the intention behind it.
She was giving you an out. A way to escape the tension still lingering in the air.
You nodded quickly, too relieved to question it. “Sure.”
Fio gave you a knowing look but didn’t go with you as you followed Vitto into the kitchen. The warmth of the living room buzzed behind you, but as soon as you stepped into the quieter space, you let out a slow breath.
Vitto had already started making Coxinhas earlier, the smell of seasoned chicken filling the kitchen. She rolled up her sleeves and handed you a piece of dough without saying anything at first, letting the act of cooking settle you.
You worked in silence for a few minutes, shaping the dough into small teardrop shapes while Vitto did the same beside you. The rhythmic motion was soothing, giving your hands something to do while your thoughts settled.
Then, finally, she spoke.
“You okay?”
You sighed, focusing on the dough in your hands. “I don’t know.”
Vitto hummed in understanding. “It’s weird, isn’t it?”
You didn’t have to ask what she meant. “Yeah.”
She set a finished Coxinha onto the tray and turned to you, her expression softer than it had been earlier. “I know today’s been a lot. And I know spending time with him again after everything is… complicated.”
You swallowed hard. “It’s not just that. He’s different.”
Vitto nodded, as if she had noticed it too. “People change.”
“But does it matter?” You met her eyes, your own filled with uncertainty. “Even if he’s changed, it doesn’t erase what happened. It doesn’t change how much it hurt.”
Vitto placed a gentle hand on your arm. “No, it doesn’t. And no one is saying you have to forgive him or even let him back in. But, fofinha, you don’t have to carry all of this alone.”
You exhaled shakily, your fingers tightening around the dough. “I don’t know how to stop.”
Vitto gave your arm a reassuring squeeze. “Remember: One step at a time.”
The words brought back a memory from a night that seemed a lifetime ago, in this same house, but under different circumstances. “You’re strong,” she had whispered as she rocked you gently, as the heart-shattering sobs began anew. “Stronger than you know. You’ll get through this, one step at a time. You have us, and we’re not going anywhere.”
For a moment, you let yourself lean into her words, into the quiet comfort of her presence. The noise from the living room felt distant, like something happening in another world.
And for the first time all day, you felt like you could breathe again.
Vitto suddenly perked up. “You know what we need? Some music.” She didn’t wait for your answer before speaking again. “Alexa play ‘Caraluna’ by Bacilos”
The robotic voice answered back and the unmistakable opening chords of one of your favorite songs filled the kitchen. One she knew put you in a good mood. A grin spread across her face as she turned to you, already swaying to the beat.
¿Quién dice que no duelen las huellas en la arena?
Tu huella el mar se la llevó, pero la luna sigue ahí.
Pero esa luna es mi condena.
(You couldn't help but internally chuckle at the irony of the song’s lyrics and your current predicament.)
“You have to dance with me,” she insisted, holding out her hands. “Come on, you know you want to.”
You groaned, but a small smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “Vitto…”
“No excuses!” she cut in, grabbing your hands and pulling you toward her. “Let loose, fofinha!”
And against all odds, you did.
Laughter bubbled up as she spun you, her energy infectious. The rhythm took over, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the knot in your chest loosened. You sang along, carefree, as the warmth of the moment wrapped around you like a long-forgotten embrace.
Yo seguiré buscando o seguiré escapando
Tal vez de ti, tal vez de mí
Before you knew it, the kitchen had turned into a makeshift dance floor, the scent of freshly made coxinhas mixing with the warm nostalgia of song after song.
And then, as if called by the rhythm—because it was in her blood, after all—Iza came toddling into the kitchen. Just woken up from her afternoon nap, her curly hair bounced as she moved, her big brown eyes lighting up at the sight of you and her mother dancing.
“Titi! Mamãe!” she squealed, her tiny feet already moving to the beat in her adorable, uncoordinated way. She wiggled her hips, her little arms waving in the air as she giggled.
Vitto gasped dramatically. “Look at her go! We have a future bailarina in the house!”
You laughed, reaching for Iza’s hands to twirl her around, her delighted laughter filling the room. You had spent months in this house after your breakup, healing, learning to breathe again, and in those months, you and Vitto had passed down a piece of your own childhood to Iza.
Disney Channel songs had been the soundtrack of your teenage years,���Camp Rock, High School Musical, Cheetah Girls, you name it—and now they were becoming hers. She knew them all by heart, but her ultimate favorite? Hoedown Throwdown by Hannah Montana.
So it was no surprise when, as soon as the last notes of ‘Batida de Coco’ played, she gasped dramatically and clapped her hands. “Hodan Trowdawn!” she demanded, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Vitto smirked. “You heard Boss Baby.”
You sighed, already knowing there was no getting out of this one. “Alexa, play Hoedown Throwdown by Miley Cyrus.”
The second the upbeat intro started, Iza shrieked in excitement, already trying (and failing) to follow the choreography you and Vitto had taught her. You joined in, going through the familiar moves, laughing when Iza tried to stomp her tiny foot with exaggerated determination.
What you didn’t notice, however, was that the ruckus had drawn the attention of the others.
One by one, the voices from the living room started trickling into the kitchen. First Andrew, then Blake, then Fio and Danna, all grinning at the sight of you, Vitto, and Iza in the middle of a full-on Hoedown Throwdown performance.
And then, leaning against the doorway, towel still draped over his shoulder from his earlier shower, stood Daniel.
But he wasn’t just watching the dance—he was watching you.
There was something different in his gaze, something softer, something more intense. He watched as you twirled Iza around, your laughter blending with hers in a way that made his chest tighten. He had always known you were good with kids, but seeing you like this—with Iza, with your guard completely down, with that effortless, nurturing ease—it did something to him.
Something dangerous.
But you were too busy living in the moment to notice.
Fio and Danna wasted no time jumping in.
“This is our moment,” Fio announced dramatically, flipping her hair as she slid into position before the song went back to the chorus.
Danna laughed. “You mean, this is Titi and Mamãe’s moment, and we’re just background dancers.”
But still, the second the chorus hit, the four of you fell into sync like it was second nature. Muscle memory kicked in, and suddenly, it was like you were back in your childhood bedrooms, practicing in front of TVs, convinced you’d someday perform this choreography on a real stage.
Iza squealed in delight, trying her best to keep up, even though her little feet didn’t quite move the way she wanted them to. But she had the spirit, and that was all that mattered.
Andrew leaned against the fridge, arms crossed, shaking his head with amusement. Blake had his phone out, definitely recording what was happening. And somewhere in the back, laughing along with them, was Daniel.
And yet, his gaze kept coming back to you.
Something about this scene—it was overwhelming in the best way. Nostalgic. Warm. Effortless. You were so yourself in this moment, dancing like no one was watching, letting Iza twirl between you and Fio, her giggles filling the air like music.
You were happy.
And it hit him, all at once.
God, he had missed this. He had missed you.
He barely registered when the song ended, when the room erupted into applause and Iza immediately yelled, “Again! Again!”
You caught your breath, shaking your head with a laugh. “Iza, amor, your Tías need a break, or we won’t survive dinner.”
Fio wiped imaginary sweat from her forehead. “Yeah, I don’t have the stamina I had at 14, mi amor.”
Vitto chuckled, scooping Iza into her arms. “Okay, bailarina, let’s give them a minute.”
As the moment settled, the energy in the room slowly shifted, you finally looked up—only to find Daniel watching you.
And unlike before, when you had done your best to avoid his eyes, this time… you held his gaze.
And your lips turned up into a soft smile.
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safety-writes-noms · 1 year ago
Text
Midnight Snack
Yay! We reached 200 followers so im just gonna put out a little short story for you guys as a thank you :D
This story has vore in it! It’s all sfw and nonsexual!!!! If you don’t like that, then just ignore this and click away.
Summary; Miguel hasn’t been taking care of himself lately so you decide to make sure he doesn’t keel over and die from exhaustion.
Now, you knew beforehand that Miguel is a man dedicated to his job, but this is unreasonable. 
“A week?” He avoids your probing gaze expertly as you frown at him from his desk. “That’s how long you haven’t slept? Do you know how bad that is??”
”I’m busy. I can’t sleep.” He responds with a little shrug, as if it isn’t that big of a deal. As if his skin isn’t worryingly pale and the shadows under his eyes stretch deep. If it weren’t for the fact that you had forced him to eat on a fixed schedule, you assume he would’ve also skipped breakfast, lunch and dinner regularly. While his determination is admirable, it’s seriously worrying to see him in this disheveled state. 
His hair is all mussed up and his eyes are blank, staring uncomprehendingly at the bright monitors covering the entirety of his desk. You scowl, crossing your arms as he steadily ignores you.
”Miguel! Come on, big guy, look at me,” You tap one of his hands and he tears his eyes away from the holographic report to stare at you. “This can’t be healthy. You gotta take a break, man.”
His brows furrow. 
“I can’t. I have to — I have to make sure everything’s fine. Everyone.” He shakes his head stubbornly and you can’t help but huff. He’s pausing, blinking slowly and dragging his eyes back open laboriously as he struggles to function normally, much less hold up a conversation. He’s probably only staying awake through sheer will and spite.
“You can do that after you’ve gotten a good rest, Miguel. You’re gonna end up collapsing or something.” If you could, you’d grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Maybe that’d get some sense into him. Unfortunately, since you’re about the size of his pinky, you settle for pushing at his hand. 
He barely pays you any mind, though he seems pretty out of it in general. He’s not listening. He’ll run himself to the ground, and while it’s not your job to care for him, you’re going to anyway since that’s what a good friend does. Plus it would kinda suck if the leader of the Spider Society died from sleep deprivation. 
“Lyla. Turn the computer screens off, but leave the lights dimmed at 20%,” You call and the glowing hologram flickers to life next to you. 
“Aye aye, Captain,” She salutes cheerfully and the bright orange interfaces go dark. Lyla promptly glances at Miguel and grimaces. “Oh. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, boss?”
Miguel musters up a vague frown, bracing himself heavily against the metal of his desk.
“Hey! I needed those. Turn them back on.” He bristles but the words are lukewarm. He has to be completely exhausted because he barely even fights back. Lyla clicks her tongue disapprovingly.
”Nuh uh, I don’t think so.” She wags a finger at him. He bares fangs, though he looks resigned. That’s a pretty good sign. Means he’s pretty close to giving up.
”I made you.”
”Actually, Xina did.” 
“Lyla — “
You clear your throat as loudly as you can and Miguel turns to look at you, irritated. 
“This is your fault,” He mutters sullenly, perfectly audible to your ears. Unrepentant, you grab at one of his fingers again and tug until he grudgingly flips his hand, showing his palm. You hop in easily, keeping steady as he carefully brings you up to his face so you can feel the full extent of his watery scowl. ”Are you happy with yourself?”
“I’ll be happy when you decide to go to sleep.” You bite back and he sighs loudly. 
“If I sleep for a couple of hours, will you get off my case?” He asks exhaustively and you nod your head grudgingly after a moment of contemplation. A couple of hours isn’t the best but you’ll negotiate with him later. 
Lyla claps her hands together happily. 
“Yay! This is great,” She turns to you and glitches up to you, holding her hand out. You take it and the two of you shake in mutual respect. Miguel just watches with a defeated sort of air. For a man who’s usually so stiff and stern, it’s only at the dead of night that he lets himself crumble. You find it somewhat touching that he trusts you enough to show his flaws, even though he pushes against your care most of the time. 
“You’ll both be the death of me,” He groans and Lyla sticks her tongue out at him. 
“I’m actually trying to keep you alive, thanks,” She snarks back before vanishing in a dizzying whirl of golden sparks. Her disembodied voice echoes from the ceiling. “Also, you’re locked out of the computer system for the rest of the night — unless it’s an emergency that needs your assistance. Have a good night, boss!”
Miguel’s head snaps up at her last words before he just sits down heavily in his creaky swivel chair. His head comes down with a loud thunk, the hand with you in it still held aloft. You wince. That couldn’t have felt good. 
You hop off easily, absorbing the impact with a roll as you poke at his cheek. 
“This is no place to take a nap,” You scold.  “Think of the back pain you’ll feel when you wake up tomorrow.” 
He makes a muffled noise of annoyance, but pulls himself up regardless. Miguel sets his hand down in front of you again, which you clamber into quickly. He raises it up to his shoulder, and you take residence there as he begins walking over to the cushy couch shoved in the corner of his rather massive office. The kids had smuggled it in somehow and it just never left. Now, it’s main purpose is for movie nights and the occasional nap or two. 
He slowly lugs his body onto the cushions with a quiet grunt, making sure that you don’t get knocked off with the motion. Even when he’s half asleep and tired out of his mind, he’s still unimaginably careful while handling you. While it’s appreciated now, it can be a bit stifling when out on the field. You just happen to come from a universe smaller than his, you’re not made of glass.
”Two hours. Then I’m going back to work.” He says, phasing away his suit to reveal rumpled but soft looking clothes underneath. It’s some sort of futuristic fashion with a high open collar and unimaginably soft fabric. 
“A whole night.”
”Three hours.”
”A whole entire night.” You insist stubbornly and he blinks.
”… Five hours.” 
“Miguel.”
He huffs, aiming a glare at you with little to no heat. 
“I can’t take that long of a break. I have things to fix and repair. And missions to coordinate.”
You raise an unamused eyebrow. 
“The other spiders can take care of that, Miguel. You have hundreds of incredibly smart people who are willing and eager to help. And Lyla can do that last one. She’s connected to everything.” Miguel still looks hesitant so you decide to sweeten the deal and play your trump card. “Look. I’m tired too, y’know? If you agree to sleep until morning, I’ll let you eat me.”
He’s silent for the count of five before he shifts slightly. 
“Right now?” He raises a brow at you and you nod. 
“Yup. I don’t really mind it, y’know. I think it’s comfy.” Miguel looks faintly confused but seems to be considering his choices. 
“… Fine. A whole night’s sleep.” He finally settles on, and you slip down from his shoulder to his chest, squinting through the darkness you know he can see clearly through. Miguel hesitates for a moment before gently grabbing you from between his thumb and forefinger, lifting you up to his head. 
You dangle from his hold, blinking as he apparently works things out in his head, sharp eyes examining you carefully despite the fact that he has gulped you down before with relative ease. 
“Alright. The watch will make sure you’re fine. Just call me or send me an alert through it and I’ll get you out. Got it?” He asks and you nod eagerly. 
He opens his maw wide and though you can’t really see in the dim light, you can see the yawning abyss of darkness in front of you, highlighted by sharp white teeth and fangs. His breath whooshes over you, making shivers wrack through your body despite the relative warmth of it. You reach up and tap one of the fingers holding you up, signaling that you’re ready and he makes a quiet hum of acknowledgement. 
Miguel inhales slowly and slowly lowers you into his mouth. The first sensation you get is wet. Saliva soaks into your suit and you slip a little, bracing a hand against the slippery soft flesh of his tongue. The second is temperature. Everything is moving around you, so wonderfully alive and warm. His tongue curves underneath you, the powerful muscle shifting so it can wrap around you loosely like an oversized blanket.
His mouth shuts with a quiet click of teeth and all of the faint light from outside is cut off, leaving you within the darkness of Miguel’s body. You go slack and still, letting him absentmindedly taste you, push you from one cheek to the other subconsciously. 
You feel him soak you in spit, not protesting or fighting back as he readies you for the journey below. Miguel is still gentle, careful. Nothing is too rough or hurts at all, even when his tongue tentatively presses you up against the hard palate of the roof of his mouth. After a long moment, he tilts his head back, just barely.
You slide toward his throat, squeezing down the tight fleshy tube accompanied by a couple of large gulps to help get you down entirely. The sound of his swallows is loud and for a moment it’s all you hear as you’re moved down. It’s not a bad pressure and you’re mostly used to it as you slip down from his esophagus and into his belly. 
And man, it’s so much warmer here and also so much more comfortable. The soft flesh here contracts slightly around your body as you find a comfortable position to lie in, tucking yourself against a wall with a yawn. You press a hand against the mass of warmth and squishiness under your fingers, blinking when it ripples across the entire expanse of his stomach. 
It’s quiet for a moment before Miguel clears his throat, his voice oddly loud and muffled at the same time.
”You okay? Need me to get you out?” He asks, and you make a lazy hum in response.
“No, I’m fine, man,” You sink deeper into the comforting warmth and you hear something like a quiet chuckle from above. It’s good to hear him sound relaxed for once. God knows he needs some relaxation anyway. 
“Okay,” he sounds tired and everything is still before your surroundings shift and you tumble somewhat quickly into the side wall of his stomach. He must’ve turned over on his side. ”… Thank you. You care too much about me.”
You frown, picking up on his meaning quickly.
”Well yeah, you’re my friend. Besides, if I was working myself to death, you would’ve done the same, right?” You say and he huffs, laying a palm over his stomach. You can feel it in the way the slimy-squishy walls indent around you. 
“It’s not the same.”
”How so?”
”It just isn’t.” Miguel says firmly and you roll your eyes.
”Agree to disagree. Also, go to sleep! I have no idea how you’ve stayed awake this long. We’ll talk about that tomorrow.” You promise, pressing your hand against the closest “wall”. He makes a quiet noise, but it’s quickly drowned out by the familiar sound of rumbling vibrating through his entire body. The volume of his contented purrs are quiet enough that a person outside would have to strain their ears to hear it.
From where you are right now, the comforting noise is steady and somewhat loud. It’s not overwhelming though — it just blends into the other sounds of his stomach growling and his other organs working somewhere else in his body. You stretch and settle down with a quiet yawn. 
Then everything shifts around you, contracting and moving to cradle you securely in complete warmth and comfort. 
“Goodnight.” Miguel’s low voice echoes from above and you close your eyes. 
“G’night.”
You fall asleep that way and he quickly follows, a hand settled carefully over his stomach and fully content.
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cal-daisies-and-briars · 7 months ago
Note
somehow missed your Thursday prompt this morning but I saw some of the new fic WIPs and I’m so excited!!!! I’m also gonna borrow the idea from other some other asks where they put comments next to their prompts because I love it.
🦮 🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮(cranberry my new beloved. Also is this a multi-chapter fic or one -long[ish] shot? Just curious…sorry if you have said it before.)
⚡⚡️⚡️⚡️(It may be long but I love it so far.)
🚨🚨🚨🚨(glitter in his Eddie will always be famous to me…I hope I’m remembering the right fic.)
🔮 🔮 🔮 🔮 (I love your universe interferes au and this is no exception.)
🌠 🌠 🌠 🌠(Nico and grandpa! Bobby my other beloveds.)
👑 👑 👑 👑(yes for Madney!!! I’m really excited for this one. Especially will be a princess Maddie.)
HEY! And awesome I LOVE the comments.
Thank you!!!!
Here's 24 for 🦮 (it's a very long one-shot, but I may make it a series of one shots:
---
“Wh-what’s she doing?” Eddie demands, scooching away from Cranberry. 
“Shoot, Eddie, I-I’m sorry,” Buck stammers. “That’s, uh, that’s her panic response.”
She’s not really supposed to do it for anyone else. Sam explained that. Her job is to focus on him, not worry about everyone around him. But he and Eddie have been spending a lot of time together lately. Cranberry adores him. Once he even swung by Buck’s place to take her on a hike on one of his days off when Buck was having a bad pain day, to make sure she got enough exercise. They did a few miles together, just them. Of course she’s paying attention to him. 
“I don’t panic,” Eddie replies. Very unconvincingly. 
“Eddie…” Buck says weakly. “You are panicking.”
Buck watches resignation wash over Eddie’s face, hand-in-hand with a sort of misery. 
“Wh-what do I do?” Eddie asks. 
“Flatten your legs,” Buck instructs. 
Eddie does. Cranberry crawls onto his lap and lays as flat as she can. She puts her full weight on him. 
---
12 for ⚡ (THANK YOU!)
---
“I have been thinking about asking Buck to marry me,” Eddie says. 
Adriana grins. “Yes! Eddie, that is amazing!”
“Yeah?” He asks, a little shaky. “You think so?”
“Duh,” Adriana rolls her eyes. “Eddie, you have been stupid in love with him forever. This is the dream, right?”
“I mean, mine anyway,” he nods. “Not that, uh, marriage is for everyone, but… I… Yeah, I want to marry Buck.”
---
12 for 🚨 (I am not sure what you are saying here but tysm!)
---
Eddie can’t tell if Chris is becoming more like Buck via proximity or vice versa. 
“They only pee once a week!” Christopher announces giddily. 
“What?” Buck gasps, with put on bewilderment. “Don’t their bladders explode?”
“No! They only need to go once a week!” Chris repeats. 
“Maybe to save on the water bill we start only going once a week, too?” Buck suggests. “What do you say?”
---
12 for 🔮 (THANK YOU! It's my fav trope):
---
“Is that really all you have to say?” Buck demands. 
A pang of discomfort lances through Bobby. That’s all? You really don’t have anything to say? 
“Don’t you care?” He presses. 
“Evan, you have no right to speak to us in this tone,” Margaret snaps. “It’s been a hard day for everyone. Why don’t you go to your room and calm down? We’ll call you when it’s time for supper.”
Buck lets out a breathy, exasperated huff, turns around, and storms off in the opposite direction.
---
12 for 🌠 (A LOT going on for Nico rn):
---
Chris is not a parent. He’s not sure he ever wants to be a parent. He’s twenty-nine and never felt a strong desire for it. However, he now feels a certain responsibility to act as a pseudo parental figure to his younger brother. It’s not like anyone else is available at the moment. Unless Chris were to unload him on Bobby or Maddie. That is an option. He won’t count it out entirely.
“Do you have any idea how much you scared everyone?” Chris asks. “Did that even cross your mind?”
Nico shifts uncomfortably in the passenger seat.
---
12 for 👑 (THANK YOU! ANd MAddie may not be the Cinderellla...)
---
“Who do you think she is?” Chim asks later, driving back to the station from the hospital.
‘Who? The trauma surgeon?” Hen asks. “I think that was Dr. Wen.”
“No,” Chim shakes his head. “The woman at the call. The one who helped.”
Hen snorts. “I think she is exactly what she said. A former nurse who stepped in to help."
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machiroads · 3 months ago
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haha ok so
irl nonsense under the cut
so my company was acquired back in june and much like every other engineering company that has ever been acquired, it's kind of been rats off a sinking ship since then
Since June, 4 of 11 managers and 5 of 8 engineers have left in my department (with some amount of overlap between the 2 groups), plus a small handful of junior staff. We had 2 engineers (one of which was an office manager) resign this week, on the heels of my work wife (also a fellow engineer and manager) resigning a couple weeks ago.
My boss helpfully pointed out that this leaves me and her as the last 2 engineers based in our province, which is. a good and normal amount of coverage to have for the volume of work we do (/s). Meanwhile our corporate overlords have come down with growth targets like HMM we are net negative on staff that bring in business and you want us to have our best year ever? Why should I give a rat's ass about growth when morale is in the shitter and 1/4 of our department has jumped ship in the span of 6 months? We're on life support, and it's not like licenced engineers grow on trees.
Starting next week i will now manage a ragtag team of 5 people. With this week's managerial resignation, this leaves 2 more EITs that will be manager-less come January, meaning 1 of them will probably become my problem. it's fine. this is fine. Please don't feel too bad for me, they pay me a fuckton of money, but if you're wondering why I haven't posted fic since August, this is more or less why lol 🫠
When we got bought out I said to myself that I'll stick around until it gets to be too big of a pain in the ass, and while we're not there yet, we're certainly hurtling towards it.
The bright side is that I get my own office now after being in cubeville for the last 3 years, and because I'm in the final 3 engineers standing, this basically makes me immortal. What are they gonna do if we don't reach our targets, fire me? Ok cool I can walk up to any one of our competitors and have a job by the end of the week, and they will have shot themselves in the foot.
Despite all the nonsense, I still genuinely like my job right now. The work is interesting, and I've been on 4-day weeks every other week for the last few months. I'm gonna use this week's twofer of resignations as a negotiation point to gun for 4-day weeks permanently. HAHA, BUSINESS.
Anyway the moral of the story here is be good enough at your job so that your boss gives you whatever you want so that you don't also leave when everyone else is doin it. Thanks for coming to my ted talk.
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just-a-draco-girly · 9 years ago
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The Secret - Chapter Two
CW: swearing
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A couple of weeks after that conversation, Charlotte has me sat on my bed, attempting to put makeup on me. She lets out a huff as she holds up a dark blue matte lipstick. I shake my head in defiance.
"Vicky, we need to agree on a lipstick that will go with your outfit if you're gonna make him notice you whilst you're in Hogsmeade" She sighs, rummaging through her make up box. She's a muggle-born, so she's into make-up and stuff like that. "I think I've got it... This one" She exclaims as she pulls out a pinky-nude coloured matte lipstick. My eyes slightly widen and I shrug in response. That is a nice colour if I'm honest with myself. I glance over at the outfit that Charlotte has put together that is laying on my bed, realizing how perfectly it compliments it. I nod in resignation and she smiles widely, gently applying it to my face.
"Can I look in the mirror now?" I ask, finally losing the last ounce of my patience. She nods, picking up her mirror from the bed. She holds it up in front of me and I gasp as my eyes land on my reflection. The pinky-nude matte lipstick compliments the black cat-winged eyeliner and black mascara that decorates my eyes. It's also perfect for my skin tone, as my usually pallid cheeks are dusted with a bit of light pink blush as well. My hair is loosely curled and left to hang over my shoulders in natural waves, stopping at my waist. I smile happily. "I look beautiful, thanks Charlie" I grin at her and hug her gently.
"Well, you were beautiful anyway, but boys are dumb and need extra incentive to look at a girl sometimes. Anyway let's get you dressed" She chirps, energetically clapping her hands together.
Swinging my legs off of the side of the bed, I stand and brush my hands off on my pajama bottoms. Almost immediately Charlie throws a pair of my black skinny jeans at me, hitting me square in the chest. I obediently change into my underwear and after five minutes of tugging and pulling I button up the skinny jeans. Next, she carelessly tosses the grey cropped hoodie that she bought me for Christmas last year in my direction. As soon as I have that pulled over my head without disturbing my hair or make-up, a black pleather jacket hits me square in the face.
"What's this?" I ask, glancing down at the jacket in bewilderment as it lays in my lap.
"I bought it for you for your birthday but I felt that it's needed for this occasion, and I've got you something else anyway" She replies, now fully dressed in her own clothes and brushing her long black hair speedily.
"Thanks, I guess" I thank her awkwardly as I slip it on and reach for my worn pair of black converse only for them to be smacked out of my hands. "What?" I question, staring up at Charlotte in confusion.
"You're wearing these" She pulls a pair of chunky, black heeled boots from behind her back. I shake my head instantly in defiance. "They're more sturdy than stilettos. You won't fall over in these" Charlie pleads, smiling down at me from her standing position. I let out a sigh of resignation and take the shoes out of her hands, before placing my feet in them.
"Well, let's go" I jump up, wobbling slightly but eventually manage to regain my balance.
"That's the Spirit!" She exclaims, grabbing her brown jacket and pushing me out of the door.
"Isn't this a bit much? Won't he notice?" I ask, cautiously following her down the stairs into the common room. She turns to look at me as we reach the portrait hole, rolling her eyes.
"That's kind of the point, duh" She states in a matter of fact tone. "You've been wearing light make-up in class for the past couple of weeks and, with my help, looking after your appearance more. Don't worry" She sighs, stepping out of the portrait hole and dragging me with her until we reach the Great Hall.
"Show time" She whispers, letting go of my hand as we both walk into the Great Hall and quickly place ourselves at the Ravenclaw table for breakfast. I immediately feel eyes on me from the opposite side of the hall, but I attempt to ignore it. Taking a deep breath, I hurriedly scoop some scrambled eggs onto my toast and cover that in beans. I go to tuck in, however I am ground to a halt by Charlotte hastily slapping my cutlery out of my hands. "You are not eating that, think of all our hard work" She hisses, gesturing to my lips.. All your hard work more like, I roll my eyes before reaching for a pot of fruit salad and a fork.
"Better?" I ask, stabbing a grape with my fork and earning an approving nod from Charlie.
"He can't keep his eyes off of you, by the way" Charlie speaks, nudging my elbow and nodding in Draco's direction. I glance up and my eyes lock with his grey orbs from across the hall. So those are the eyes that I felt on me? Smiling gently, I awkwardly wave at him, earning a wave back in return. My face heats up, so I swiftly drop my gaze down to the plate of food before me.
"I think I'm gonna be sick" I speak, pushing the last piece of melon around my plate with my fork mindlessly. Eventually, I drop my fork and go to stand up from the table, only to be stopped by Charlotte.
"Where are you going?" She asks, her blue eyes are full of concern.
"I need some air" I reply, before hurriedly walking out of the Great Hall and down a random corridor, hopefully in the direction of a courtyard. When I finally reach the Transfiguration courtyard my feet are in agony from the boots that Charlie made me wear, so I quickly perch on the nearest stone bench and remove them from my feet, throwing them halfway across the grassed area in my frustration. I drop my head into my hands and kick the leg of the stone plinth, letting out a grunt of pain as my foot makes contact with the unyielding, grey rock.
Why am I doing this?
"What did those shoes ever do to you?" A familiar voice asks. Of course, it's Draco. I sit up straight, glancing behind me with a slight smirk.
"They hurt my feet" I sigh, pouting. His tall frame nears me and he casually places his hands in the pockets of his dark, blue jeans. Dropping his head as he chuckles lowly, as if reveling in a secret joke. He wipes a tear from his eye with the sleeve of his green Quidditch jumper. Damn, how does a human being look that good so effortlessly?
"What?" I demand, when he decides to place himself next to me on the bench. He chuckles once more, carelessly running a hand through his loose, blonde locks. Consequently causing my heart to flutter momentarily. 
"You look cute when you're angry, like when I broke your broomstick when we were six" He replies, laughing a little more as he speaks.
"You still owe me a replacement for that, asshole" I huff, directing my head away from him and folding my arms in disgruntlement. He giggles quietly, before taking my chin in one hand and forcing me to look at him. My breath catches in my throat when our eyes lock and I nervously nibble my bottom lip.
"I said I'd get you a new Firebolt, remember?" He speaks, staring into my eyes with his beautiful grey orbs. "Anyway, what's all this about?" He questions, dropping his hand from my face and gesturing at my appearance. I drop my head and stare at my hands in my lap, feeling my cheeks heat up immensely.
"It was Charlie's idea. Apparently, I was too 'Girl-next-door" to get myself a boyfriend" I respond, continuing to scan my hands as a light breeze brushes past us.
"Why the hell would you want a boyfriend?" He asks. An undertone of anger is present in his usually calm voice. I shrug in response, glancing up at him. "And surely, if you want someone to be interested it's more authentic and honest to be yourself?" His eyebrow quirks up as he stares down at me.
"I don't know" I say, quietly. "Is Drakey-poo jealous?" I ask, smirking at him.
"No, but boys are stupid. Trust me, you don't want one to be hanging around you constantly" Draco adds, smiling warmly down at me. His pale cheeks are tinted a muted pink.
"That's rich. Look at who I hang out with the most" I laugh loudly, punching him gently in the arm. He responds by playfully putting me in a headlock.
"I didn't say that I wasn't stupid" He chortles, tickling my sides with his spare hand. I giggle helplessly, attempting to break free of his grip.
"Oh, there you are" Charlotte's voice causes the pair of us to freeze. I look over to where she's stood to find her shaking her head with her hands on her hips. My cheeks heat up instantly, whilst Draco releases me and awkwardly scratches the back of his neck.
"Hey, Charlie" I smile forcefully, waving in her direction. Her face hardens when she spots the boots that are located on the other side of the courtyard.
"What are these doing over here?" She asks, marching over to the boots and picking them up. My face pales as she stomps over to my location.
"They hurt my feet" I whine, causing Draco to laugh quietly beside me.
"You should know not to make her wear heels. You know what happened last year" He continues to chortle loudly, clutching his stomach as he does so. I elbow him in the side whilst flashbacks of my family's new years party last year flood my brain. Charlie made me wear a pair of silver, stilettos. I was fine until I decided to dance. I tripped over and broke my ankle, ending up in a cast for several weeks. It was not fun, especially as Draco mocked me the entire time.
"I hate you" I mutter under my breath, scowling up at him.
"You love me really" He winks at me, gently ruffling my hair. "And that scowl doesn't look too pretty on you" Draco remarks, standing up.
"That scowl doesn't look too pretty on your mum" I retort, pulling a face at him. To which, he responds by flipping me off. "Fuck you!" I huff angrily, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks.
"Bet you'd love to, but I've got places to be and people to see right now. Laters, baby" He smirks, before turning around and walking away.
"That just there was your fault" I speak, pointing after Draco and glaring at Charlie.
"How?" She asks, affronted, holding up her hands in defence.
"You're the one that gave him your copy of Fifty Shades and told him to read it over the summer! Before that he was perfectly innocent" I snap, taking the boots off of her and jumping off of the bench. I walk away with Charlotte closely trailing behind me.
"It's not my fault that the perverted fuck actually liked it" She shouts after me, catching up to me and walking by my side. "Anyway, if it's my fault that he was flirting with you then I'm fine with it" She adds, grinning happily at me.
"He was flirting with me?" I ask, honestly shocked. She nods swiftly.
"He called you 'baby'. That counts as flirting. He wants the D" She remarks, raising her eyebrows and staring at me pointedly. "Well, too be more accurate you want the D from D" Charlie giggles, causing me to blush heavily.
"Can we not talk about this now?" I ask, when we start to ascend the main staircase. Charlotte nods just as I spot the blonde devil himself, descending the same staircase as us. I bite my lip, dropping my head in a bid to avoid confrontation. This proves useless, however, as Draco speedily pulls me into a bone-crushing hug.
"Hey, can we talk later? Alone?" He whispers softly in my ear, his voice unusually husky. I nod, unable to speak due to my body being pressed up against his. "Perfect. Meet me outside the Shrieking Shack in an hour" He demands, before quickly letting me go and hurriedly walking down the stairs with Blaise. I watch after him until he disappears from sight. Charlotte goes to speak, but I instantly stop her.
"Don't even think about it" I speak, proceeding up the stone steps steadily.
"Where are we going anyway? We're supposed to be going to Hogsmeade" Charlie speaks, walking beside me once more.
"I need to grab my trainers. I'm not wearing these boots anymore" I sigh, finally reaching the portrait outside the Ravenclaw common room. Quickly, I answer the riddle before running up the stairs to our dorm room. I throw the boots into Charlotte's trunk and pull out my trusty black Converse, tugging them onto my feet. I run back down the stairs to find Charlie sat in one of the armchairs.
"Right. Let's go!" I chirp, clapping my hands together.
"Somebody's cheered up, may I know why?" She asks, inquisitively. I slyly tap my nose, before hurriedly climbing through the portrait hole.
Other Chapters
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loser-jpg · 2 years ago
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guess who came up with an entire new thought out story idea bc they were listening to music then info dumped to their friend only for the friend to tell them that coming up with that much detail in like an hour is not normal :D.
anyway heres idea:
so its set before normal tech basically renaissance era but not really bc i dont feel like drawing fancy dresses
so the main character (guy 1) is like the heir to this noble family and bc of that a lot of ppl want to kill him, so this one prestigious college (not really bc characters are like 22-28) has a good security system so he decides to go there and he has a girlfriend there but the girlfriend he notices is always paying attention to this one guy who never talks to ppl much (guy 2)
so guy 1 hates him obvi but recently the main guard of the security system retires so the security goes to shit and one night guy 1 is walking when this girl shows up behind him and trys to kill him but then guy 2 shows up and just fucking bashes the girls head in. like she didnt have a second to do anything before shes bleeding out on the ground.
so guy 1 and guy 2 are just staring at eachother in shock as guy 2 is absolutely covered in blood and then runs away like "oh shit i fucked up" but guy 1 is standing there w 3 things going through his head "oh fuck that was kinda hot", "i could so use this/him (for evil schemes >:3)", and just insane obsession cuz this guy just shows up outa nowhere and kills someone for him no hesitation.
so for a while after this guy 2 is freaking out because if someone tells he doesnt think hes going to get out of it even for self defense because the girls family had donated a ton of money to the school and he thinks guy 1 hates him so hes like "well im fucked" but through this time guy 1 is silently being nice to him. everyone else still thinks they hate eachother. also the school finds the body so ppl are on edge bc they dont know what happened
eventually they end up alone and guy 2 confronts him and is like "i thought you hated me?" "i did" "so why didnt you tell anyone" "you saved me, why would i tell anyone? though im suprised you didnt say anything yourself" "i knew her, she sat next to me in class, her family was well respected at school. if i said anything no one would believe me. her name was anne." "Forenich. Her family spent the past few months donating money to the school. her grades were disastrous and her familys reputation was even worse. the only reason her family did a thing was probably to get her in the school long enough to try to kill me." "and why that? what if it was just a spur of the moment thing?" "unlikely, i happened to look at her file, she handed the paperwork to drop out just a week ago, and to do this right as the head guard resigned?" "how did you even see her file?" "a family name goes a long way here" "huh?" "...you have no clue who you go to school with do you. I am the HEIR to the *insert family name here*. I am the MOST important person at this school. I deal with assasination attempts on a typical tuesday. And seeing as this school has become unfit to protect me, and you have no hesitation to kill for me im going to offer you a position, for my permanent time at this school or until it becomes safe for me to live here again, you will be my personal guard. of course your studies will come first as i cant be protected by someone incompetent."
and so guy 2 is just like "WHAT JUST HAPPENED MAN" but isnt complaining cuz if some hot guys gonna be ordering him to be around him he aint gonna complain.
the majority of the story is just going to be guy 2 liking guy 1 thinking guy 1 doesnt know but guy 1 knowing and also liking guy 2 but slightly more insanely obsessed. guy 1 is way more cunning and manipulative than guy 2 and guy 2 is kinda just along for the ride ready to kill if guy 1 says to.
i only have like one actual plot point/arc but its gonna take more time to write out and my fingers are tired of typing so ill write it later.
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logoleptic-since-06 · 28 days ago
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It's Two-Faced, It's Too Late
Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader Content: Fem!Reader, College AU, Athlete!Toji Fushiguro, Hacker!Reader, Stalking, Crack, Profanity, Suggestive, Not Proofread
MDNI
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<- Prev Part 2 Next ->
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Toji checks his phone to see the time is exactly 7 PM, so here he is standing in front of your dorm room’s entrance just as you asked him to. He rings the bell and waits. A few seconds pass and the door opens by itself, revealing a dark room only lit by purple LED lights.
“Toji Fushiguro,” he hears a voice call. His eyes follow the sound to find you sitting in front of your computer setup, your back facing him.
“Y/N?” he asks as he steps in hesitantly. Once he does, the door closes and locks behind him automatically.
What have you made your room into?
You kick the chair next to yours before saying, “Sit.” And for the first time in his life, Toji feels as though he is the one being intimidated. He sits on the chair and finally sees your face when he feels his heart do something it has never done before. 
It skips a beat.
Toji clears his throat. “Hi, I’m Toji.”
You look like you’re suppressing a mocking smile. “I’m aware.”
“Right, so–”
“Give me your phone.”
Right on business, huh? Just the way he prefers anyways. Then why does he feel a pang of disappointment? Ignoring the confusion bubbling in his head, he unlocks his phone and gives it to you.
“Has this stalker ever called you?”
“No, they just send me texts from different numbers.”
“When did it start?” you ask as you begin to connect his phone to your PC.
“About two weeks ago.”
“And how frequently do you get these texts?”
“At first, I used to get one every day, but after a week of that had passed, I’ve been getting multiple texts a day.”
“Show me the texts.”
He hesitates.
“What?”
“Well, the texts are just them telling me where I currently am and sending me screenshots of the tape.”
“I genuinely don’t care about seeing anything explicit, if you have the courage to film it, you can show it to me. I’m helping.”
He opens each text one by one and shows them to you; and in the last one, you see that Toji had finally asked what they demanded to which they talked about him having to resign from the basketball team.
“Is it okay if I transfer data from your phone to my PC so I can work on this?”
“Do anything, it doesn’t matter.”
“Okay then, just a second,” you say as you open a window on your computer that is completely unknown to Toji. He unintentionally stares at you in awe as you work on your craft like an expert. As he watches as you type in what he assumes are codes, he can’t help but feel impressed by your skills.
“So how come I’ve never seen you around campus before?” He breaks the silence.
Your eyes don’t divert from your screen when you answer. “Uhh, I attend most of my classes online, and I don’t really have that many friends that I hang out with.”
“Why do you attend your classes online if you’re already on campus?”
“Well, first of all, I have a job so time management can be a hassle. And most of my work is online anyways, I have everything on this PC that I can’t carry to my classes.”
“Right.”
You soon disconnect the cable from his phone and hand it back to him. “I will do a thorough check up on the data and reach out to you later, okay?”
“Sure, thanks, doll.”
“Fushiguro, I have access to your entire photo library along with your browser history. If you call me that one more time, I won’t just go through them but also leak every single one of your secrets.”
“You have my what? I thought by data you meant my phone bill history or some shit.”
“I had to take everything just in case.”
“Just in case of what, exactly?”
“Who knows?”
Wow, he is terrified of you. “So like, are you gonna go through my shit now?”
“I’ll go through whatever I need to go through in order to investigate. Nothing more, nothing less. Now leave.”
“But you–”
“Leave.”
“Fine, damn,” he snaps before stealing one last glance at your face and turning back.
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Note: The writing feels very bland and that's definitely not because of my busy schedule (it totally is). Part 3 will be out tomorrow hopefully.
Tags: @linaaeatsfamilies @aseqan @corvid007 @sevensdigitalheaven @minkoq
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after-nine-at-the-oasis · 2 years ago
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A H PROMO TIME
Logically I know we probably won't see much/any of Carlos next week because recovery is too important to just be like one scene but still I can hope lol
I mean to just see a bit of it xD maybe TK will mention it though (I swear he better)
Anyway lol
Ooh hi Judd :D
XD I don't think we saw him at all today
I'll excuse it bc. yk. obviously XD, but I miss my boy <333
Oooh a fire okay okay 👀👀😬
Dang we focusing so much on this fire I'm thinking we won't get anything else xD
Rip to my Carlos hopes lol but also what about the rest of the episode xD
OPE Marjan 👀👀?
Ooohh noo
Ahh afraid of messing it up yeah o.o
Maybe because of scrutiny be that public or peer/employers 👀?
A A A A H H H H H H H WAIT WHAT RESIGNING?????!!?!!?
HOLD UP NOW
YOU CAN'T JUST THROW THAT AT ME WHAT THE H E C K
NOOOO NO NO NO NO NO YOU CAN'T DO THIS MARJAN
I mean she can but 😭 xD
AAAHHHHHH AND SOMEBODY RIDING AWAY
A H
N O
WHAT THE HECK
xDD
That's the last of my last thoughts. Now it's time for the. . .
REVIEW
A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H
Y'AAAALLLLLLLLLLL
THIS. EPISODE. WAS SO AMAZING 😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🥰🥰❤️
Okay okay xdd I got this y'all lol.
I absolutely loved loved LOVED this episode :DDDD. Dude, the ANGST 😭😭❤️❤️❤️👀!!! The drama, the searching, the referring to people as fiance 🥰🥰 (what I just love it okay xD), even Owen's storyline!! Especially the shortness of it XDD - no offense Owen. But I mean, we definitely got way more of the other one, as we should lol. I am glad there was another plot though, just because it would feel a little weird having an entire episode pretty much just following TK around. That makes it sound casual but yk xD. Also, it gives us time to stress lol, and makes it feel like more time has passed. Basically I just think it was needed for the flow :). Plus at least if Owen had to be not being there for his son, he wasn't stealing the spotlight XD. Anyway lol, absolutely amazing episode, just, stellar 😍😍.
WGHOOO holy crap xd
Y'all I am literally unsteady of my feet
Gasping shock from the promo and everything else and also just gasping in ~drama~ and like a billion things and all the feelings at once lol. I am not okay xdd.
But seriously for quite a while while (yes that's on purpose) I was catching up on my liveblogging I was like having shortness of breath man xD I was literally losing it lol
I still am but I'm gonna work on this for a little bit and then go eat dinner and take a break lol xdd. I do want to get it all done now but my hands and my brain (from having to word so much, and I don't mean that in a grammatically correct way, I just mean words man xD) are tired lol. Like I'm not out of words quite but I just feel like taking a break lol, since I was freaking out the whole time, during the episode (and typing for most of it), and I've been catching up for the past hour lol. So that's two hours of freaking out, trying to get everything, and stressing lol xD. So, I'mma do some of this (I actually already did and came back to add that I was unsteady since I meant to lol, I decided to say it here when it happened xD), and then come back later lol. I just need to destress for a bit I think, no matter how much I'd love to finish it now while my feelings are fresh XD. I need energy for the rest of the things I have to do tonight lol. But, I will be coming back :).
Now, onto the individual parts lol.
So xD. I think I'm just gonna do like, the 126, Grace, Owen (including O'Brien), and then of course Tarlos ft. Gabriel XDD. Alright, let's get into it lol.
The 126!! My babeys 🥰🥰🥰🥰. I loved them so much :'DDD. We didn't get to see much of them, but at least we got that entire scene with TK in the beginning 🥰🥰🥰. We got to see their siblingism lol, in the teasing aspect of that xD, but we also saw them supporting TK, which was really nice :'DD. Even a splash of Nanteo, lol xD! Plus of course Nancy and TK siblingism specifically 🥰🥰🥰. Anyway, we didn't see much of them, and I do miss them, but I loved this storyline (including in the past few episodes) so I'll allow it lol <333. And continuing on, despite the fact that we didn't see them much this episode, they were amazing :DD. I love them all with my whole heart 🥰🥰🥰. Oh and Judd I miss you 😭😭😭❤️🥰 XD. Luckily he will be coming back to us next week lol <333. Anyway, in short, I love them <3333.
Grace!! We love our girl 🥰🥰. She was amazing finding all the stuff on Carlos :D. Especially considering it was illegal xD. At first at least, but I assume it was still illegal later lol. Anyway, she was awesome as always 🥰🥰. Plus her comforting TK 😭😭❤️🥰 >>>. Like, that little "I'm sorry baby" or something similar 😭🥺❤️. Ik that's something she says, "baby" I mean, but it just :'))) she loves him your honor <333. Anyway yeah, her 😭😭🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰❤️❤️😍❤️. I love her <3333.
Owen! Owennn. My mannn. SIR. ANSWER YOUR PHONE WHEN YOUR SON CALLS!!! Okay like I know he was dealing with terrorism and the FBI and everything and I get that, and genuinely it is a good excuse lol, but I'm still mad xD. Still, it'll make for angst down the line :D. Anyway, besides that lol, I did actually really enjoy Owen's storyline today :)). I mentioned to someone earlier today how I was laughing a lot last week despite it being about a kidnapping, but that I'd probably be laughing less at this one (and that it was also a kidnapping lol). And I mean, I was, but I was still laughing lol xD. Besides panicked laughing basically at myself lol. Mostly going "I'M FINE :))))" with a bit of laughing xD. But my point is lol, Owen's storyline provided some laughs XD. Bc I mean, he provides some great jokes xD. Also, while I was definitely way more exciting for the other storyline's scenes, I still enjoyed Owen's :). Like I said earlier, it was necessary for the flow.
Anyway, YESS! I'm glad O'Brien isn't actually one of them - I don't think they'll pull another twist on us, so I think it'll stay this way lol. And even though it was funny sometimes, I'm glad we're done with the under-coverness. In and out and in and out - it's just simpler now. Now, I genuinely thought (or maybe I just hoped, but I think I thought lol) that they would be suspecting O'Brien and not Owen, but then that guy kept on talking lol. And honestly, c'mon Owen, the one time you don't wanna fight? But nah xD, it was the smart thing to do lol. I'm also glad that we're (or Owen is at least) getting along a bit better with O'Brien. It's not like we (why am I saying we lol) were necessarily on bad terms, but Owen and him were finding things in common, and honestly they've kinda been through it xD. I think he'll be useful in the future :). And I really do hope they find his nephew - and that he's not the bomb maker. But I wouldn't exactly be surprised if he is, you know? I mean, maybe I will be in the heat of the moment, depending on how much it was hinted at, but still. It would suck (like :( not >:/), but it would be interesting 👀.
Anyway, I'm a bit dreading the storyline of that person targeting Owen because of Owen being the center of attention, but also, I'm excited for it :). Especially since, even if they're not directly targeted for being related (not literally in all except TK's case) to Owen, the others will be affected by it too :). I'm assuming that's where the clip we've seen in promos of Owen warning people comes from, that whole plotline coming up. But, anyway, I'm excited :). And yes, these paragraphs are kind of short, because I ain't interested in having a repeat of last week lol. Anyway, lastly, I am glad Owen answered the first time TK called, and he did resist the FBI for a minute to talk to him a bit longer :). It still sucks he had to rush off, but I'm glad he was at least there for TK a little bit <3. I'm totally (as long as I have the motivation, and who knows if I'll finish it but I will definitely try lol) writing a fic about him listening to messages TK left him and losing it (not totally). Well, let's say being distressed lol. Anyway, despite all I've said about Owen here lol, I loved him <33.
Now. Finally :). TK and Carlos. A A A H H H H H H H H H H H!!! 😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🥰🥰🥰😍😍💔💔❤️❤️❤️😭😭❤️❤️🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️. Okay, I'm good lol. Kind of xD. Anyway, I'll try and at least make this longer than Owen's - on principle lol -, but I don't have quite as much to say since I said a lot more about Tarlos in the moment than I did Owen lol. I'm trying to make my reviews a little shorter by not including quite so much of what I said in the liveblogs, more of my thoughts that I didn't put down (usually the more thought out ones lol), so it's a little easier for me to do them :). Motivation just be that way sometimes lol! Anyway :D. My boyyssss 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰. But also. My boyyssss 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭. XD. Anyway, I thought they were AMAZING this episode. And, just a quick note - UGH, the ACTING!!!!! SO. AMAZING. Thank you Ronen and Rafa 😭😭❤️ :) :D.
Anyway, this episode was DEFINITELY an angsty one - obviously - but it was so, so good :D. For them, I mean - it was in general but this ain't about that right now lol. Seeing all their emotions, really strong ones obviously, was just heartbreaking 😭. And, I was only just thinking about this, but they kind of paralleled each other. Obviously they're having similar feelings (like fear lol), but in different ways, because of their different sides of the equation. Plus, we haven't seen TK's anger in a while - besides the slight anger/the frustration with Iris -, and it was fuuun :DDD >:)). Anyway, just seeing how TK's emotions redirected into the anger, and Carlos's were forced to go into logical thinking. It was rough 😭. And also, that scene of Carlos seeing TK on the doorbell monitor? Wow, why don't you break my heart with a hammer already :'). Or that meat tenderizer Trudie used to smash carlos's phone :'D. Anyway XD.
TK obviously went through it this episode, but I mean. Carlos is the main focus of going through it here XD. They were both suffering and I'm totally vibing with the double angst but right now let's talk about Carlos since he was literally kidnapped, drugged, and almost killed lol. Also during the liveblog I was mostly just screaming, so I'm gonna differentiate some of my emotions here XD. Now, when Carlos was quiet (not quite submissive) or drugged it was awful, but whenever he was fighting back it was just viscerally uncomfortable. In a really good acting and such kinda way lol. Especially earlier on in the episode - by the time we was fighting Darryl at the end I was consumed even more by other things, one of which being "YES YES YES GOOOO CARLOS, SLAYYYY GO OFF, BEAT HIM!!!!" XD. But anyway, the entire time it was just so heartbreaking 😭😭❤️💔🥺. And Carlos saying that Gwyn's love passed through him because he had no idea how he could love TK that much? I just. Wow. I think he'd probably actually thought that before lol, not just coming up with it for Trudie's benefit, but even if he did, DANG. That is some powerful stuff xdd 😭😭. Also heartwrenching and heartwarming lol xD. Just emotional in general.
And now some on TK! Then a bit of Tarlos and then some less emotional plot stuff lol. Anyway, ANGRY TKKKK :DDD!! XDD But besides that, seeing the subtleties in his fear - the constant bouncing, the way he always looked like he was about to cry. Just, UGH 😭😭😭, so good. And I'm sure this experience will definitely mess him up - don't even get me started on how much this'll have traumatized Carlos - xd. Honestly if we don't get a lot of it in canon, I'm excited for the fics that explore Carlos and TK's trauma from this more :). Probably more stuff of dealing with it/having it brought or rise up than deep dives but those too lol. Even if we get a lot in canon xD. Anyway, lol. It was just heartbreaking to see TK unravelling throughout the episode; in scenes like him talking with Gabriel he's clearly trying to keep it together, but by the time we get to investigating he's really losing it. Just, UGH, so good :'DDD 😭🥰❤️😍.
Now that last scene - well, the last two actually, I'll include the ambulance/after scene lol. TK having to do chest compressions and save Carlos (well, hold onto him for a little :') ) was just 😭😭😭. And seeing Carlos try to focus on TK when he was still awake? UGH, 😭😭😭😭 so good. And AAGHHHH 😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️. It was such an amazing scene but MAN did it hurt xd. Especially Carlos jumping away from them when he woke up 💔💔 <33. And after that, the conversation about holding onto his life :'DDD? And how TK HAS HIS LIFE 😭😭😭😭❤️❤️🥰🥰. Y'all it's over close it down it was all worth it for this xD. They're just so adorable and in love :')). Also, YESSS THE "ARE YOU GONNA RIDE WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND?" PARALLELLLLLLL!!! WHOOOO 🥰🥰😍😍😭🥳🥳🥳🥳😭. WE DESERVE IT XDDD. I will say again that it would've been even better (than 100% amazing) if it has been fiancé this time lol. Anyway xD. Oh and yeah I loved how much they said fiancé this time :'). Anybody <33. I just love acknowledgments of people's relationships okay :'DDD. But especially Tarlos being fiancés ;'))))). Idk why winky just because :D.
Anyway, plot wise I absolutely loved Tarlos in this episode. It was super interesting and obviously VERY tense, and the kidnapping (kidnappers, backstory, reason for it, etc) was actually very interesting. Not that I necessarily expected it not to be, but I didn't really think about it much lol. Also, I don't think any of us expected TK at the door xD 😭. Anyway, I also thought Trudie seemed in character the whole time with what we knew of her - she wasn't evil, and she believed in love (especially that of a mother and a son), so she let Carlos out. But she loved her son more than anything, so she protected him from Carlos. That's just the one example but yeah I thought it was really interesting, and really good :D. Also, TK working with Gabriel this episode? Obviously >>>>. As we all expected lol xD.
Now, for a quick look at next episode and after that: I hope we'll see Carlos next episode, and hear about his recovery and all that, but I think we'll see TK mention it but not actually see Carlos. I think it would be difficult to just have in one scene - like I said earlier, it's an important thing, too much to just put in a throwaway (not throwaway but I mean not one of the main plots of the episode) scene. I just think it would feel unnatural, but I don't know that we'll get a whole storyline on it next episode. And while I would absolutely love that, it makes sense. And it's been way too long since we've truly seen the others and they deserve some screen time :D. So, yeah, I think it'll get mentioned, and then in the next episode we see Carlos in/a few episodes from now we'll see some of the aftermath of this episode. See, I wouldn't be surprised at, say, a Carlos returning to work storyline in an episode (as in the one after this next one) or two, and having to deal with/explore some of the trauma through that. I mean the plot, but Carlos also having to deal with it lol. And obviously if something like that does happen we better have amazing support from TK <3. Anyway, I just hope (I know they will :'D) they support each other and love each other (not really a hope it's a fact lol), and they'll get through this :'D. Anyway, long story short, I LOVE THEM SO MUCH YOUR HONOR 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🥰🥰😍😍🥰🥰🥰!!! Yeah, I love them <3.
Overall, I absolutely loved this episode. I adored it :D. It was so, so amazing, and once it's been a little longer I'll probably rewatch it - I don't rewatch full episodes a lot, and usually if I watch clips it's not angsty ones, but it can be. Anyway, for example, I haven't re-watched any episode this season yet, but I think I may rewatch this one this week. If I can clam down enough lol XD. I'm still tense just thinking about it, writing this. Plus from something else I was watching, but that's besides the point lol. Anyway, obviously I loved the kidnapped plot this episode, but I really enjoyed Owen's too :). Especially since it'll apparently play into the angst we see for TK and Owen in the future :D. Which, I'm glad was directly addressed (well, seen by us lol, addressed by the show, not characters) this episode. Usually it's tiny things or things we just assume, and I imagine some of which will be brought up in that future storyline, but today we saw TK outwardly bothered by it :). Very interesting! Not confusing though, it definitely makes sense lol. Anyway! I loved seeing a bit of the 126 - the scene they were in was great lol -, though it was odd to see TK mostly doing this on his own. He wasn't, but he also wasn't interacting much with the others. This episode felt like it was literally following TK, Carlos, and Owen. Luckily for the episode Carlos didn't move much lol. . . . sorry lol XD. Anyway (also yes the period and then separate ellipse was on purpose lol), it was really cool :D. Just odd how, maybe because he wasn't at work, we didn't see any of the team's reactions to everything going on. Certainly interesting. Also, I live in FEAR of the next episode 😳👀. I think the ending of the promo there is a red herring, an in the moment kind of association - I don't think it's Marjan leaving, I think it's probably Owen or O'Brien, maybe one of the other gang members. Also I doubt Marjan will really leave, or at least not for long (if it lasts for multiple episodes I'll die <3), but I am still very much in fear :'D. TK looks way too at peace in that last shot (or one of the last shots anyway) for Marjan to be leaving though xD. But yeah, it looks super interesting and I'm excited to see that big fire, and why everything that happens happens :D. Anyway! Back to this episode lol :). Grace was also amazing, I'm interested to see where Owen's storyline is going since while it closed a chapter, it's the only storyline from this episode that's actively continuing (we're sure to see aftereffects of the other one), I'm so glad Carlos is okay :'D, and all in all I just thought it was a super great episode :DD. Very emotional 😭😭, super dramatic, and had some comedy bits xD. I LOVED it 🥰🥰🥰😍❤️❤️.
So yeah! I absolutely loved this episode. I thought it was awesome! I'm nervous for the next one! This has been my review of. . .
9-1-1: Lone Star, Season 4, Episode 4: Abandoned
It was so amazing! I'm really excited to see more of everyone next episode, though I am scared. I'll be back next week with my review of. . .
9-1-1: Lone Star, Season 4, Episode 5: Human Resources
See you then!
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collecting-stories · 3 years ago
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She’s Kinda Hot - Sarah Cameron
Request: omg i really wish i could write but, can you do one with sarah and kind of like kie reader(rich but hang out with the pogues)where they are enemies and are stuck together for a project and the reader keeps annoying sarah to make her mad and the reader tells sarah she’s hot when she’s mad and then they end up getting together or something. sorry this is really long this is also my first time requesting so i’m kinda new lo
A/N: I really freaking love Sarah Cameron. That is all. Enjoy the fic. 
Outer Banks Masterlist
✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰
Sarah was pretty sure that there was one of those personal rain clouds hanging directly over her head as she sat in math class with you. Who even assigned school projects in math class? Wasn’t that kind of thing reserved for english or science? But no, her math teacher...your math teacher...decided that a project to highlight Women in Math was a brilliant idea for Women’s History Month and, in an even greater stroke of genius, she stuck Sarah and you together as partners. It was all your fault really, that was all Sarah kept thinking as she stared across the classroom at the side of your head. That if you hadn’t walked into class late, in the middle of assignments, Sarah would’ve ended up with the next person alphabetically behind Cameron. Instead, she was stuck with you. 
“Why don’t we just split the assignment into parts and then put it together at the end?” Sarah suggested, after the bell rang and she managed to chase you down the hall of the kook academy to your locker.  
“Why not just work together?” You replied, shrugging a shoulder as if it shouldn’t be the worst thing that could ever happen to Sarah to be paired together for the project.
“I’d rather not.”
“Cause you broke up with me-”  
Sarah hushed you immediately, covering your mouth with her hand and looking back and forth down the crowded hallway. “You know what happened!”  
You pushed Sarah’s hand away and rolled your eyes, “well too bad princess, I need this grade so you’re gonna have to deal with seeing me.” You said, “everyday. After school.”  
“That’s bullshit,” Sarah snapped, following after you when you shut your locker and started down the hallway to your next class, “you do not need that fucking grade! You’re at like, the top of the class.”  
“Are you the teacher?” you asked, looking back at her. “Don’t worry Sarah, I promise I’ll stay six feet away and I won’t try to tempt you. Wouldn’t want anyone to find out you’re into girls.” You said, whispering the last part so only she could hear it.  
Sarah stopped in her tracks, watching you walk the rest of the way to your class. She wanted to scream after you, that wasn’t the reason. That wasn’t why she’d totally annexed you from her life. It wasn’t just that she knew this project was going to get her in deep shit, it was that she was one hundred percent positive that she would not be able to work with you without letting her feelings get the better of her.  
It wasn’t like the kook academy was a big place, there wasn’t exactly room to avoid you completely, but Sarah had done a pretty decent job so far. Even when the two of you crossed paths in class, and it happened more than Sarah would’ve preferred, she managed to keep herself away from you. At least until now, she was stuck with you as her partner for some ridiculous math project. She’d been banking on you wanting as little to do with her as she tried to have with you but instead you seemed totally fine. Unbothered by everything that went down between the two of you.  
She thought about asking Kiara what she would do but Sarah could already hear her best friend telling her that she wasn’t going to take sides. Kiara was friends with both of you and the most advice she would ever offer was “I don’t get what happened between you two anyway”.  
No, asking Kiara wouldn’t work. Sarah would have to resign herself to this project. She could this. It was just a three-week project. She could survive three weeks with you.  
“Hey, if I get lunch, what’d’ya want?” You asked, hanging your head off of Sarah’s bed and holding your phone out so you could tap through your doordash app.  
Sarah wanted to scream, it was still half-way through the first week and you had been to her house three times in as many days, spending your after-school hours driving her crazy. She was pretty sure that you were doing this on purpose.  
“It’s almost 5:30,” Sarah replied, not looking up from her laptop, “I think lunch is over.”
“Dinner then.” You said.  
“No. I don’t want dinner.” She snapped, “and I don’t want lunch or whatever else...I just want to finish this project.”
“We’ve got like, two weeks left Sarah,” you pointed out, rolling over onto your stomach and looking at her across the room, “just chill out.”  
You knew you were pushing Sarah’s buttons but you couldn’t help it. When things between the two of you had gone bad, when she’d told you that it was over and, worse than that, it was a mistake, you had been heartbroken. There wasn’t a better word for it. You hated how upset you’d been after Sarah broke it off with you but when things settled, you couldn’t deny that there was still something there. Little looks, fleeting in the hallway, moments you caught her staring and you knew she caught you too. It felt like boiling tension, the same way it had before, when you’d gotten together.  
“Chill out?” She huffed, “you’ve been at my house all week driving me fucking nuts and now you tell me to ‘chill out’. No, you need to help me with this fucking project!”  
You sat up on the bed, unable to contain the smile as you looked over at Sarah, “god, I totally forgot how insanely hot you are when you’re pissed off.”  
Sarah tossed her pencil across the room at you, “will you knock it off. You always pull this shit with me.”
“What shit?” You almost laughed, “you’re the one who told me that dating was an ‘accident’ and you were ‘confused about your feelings’. What am I doing, exactly, to pull shit with you? If anything, Sarah, you leading me on was pretty much exactly that.”  
“I wasn’t leading you on.” She groaned, flicking her hair over her shoulder the way she always did when she was pissed with something someone said to her. “What was I supposed to do anyway?” She said, voice dropping lower so no one would hear her. You might’ve been in her closed bedroom but if there was one thing you’d learned about Tanny Hill it was that someone was always listening. “Do you know what my family would do if they found out?”
“Found out that you were dating...basically a pogue? Or dating a girl?” You deadpanned, raising an eyebrow at her in question. You knew what the answer was. Sarah had been trying to live up to every expectation that Ward set for her from the moment she was born. She was always trying to make up for Rafe or Wheezie doing something to upset him by making sure she never did. And while other people dating whoever they wanted was totally fine with him, his favorite daughter, his pride and joy, dating a girl...maybe if it’d been Wheezie a few years down the line. But not Sarah, who was supposed to date a rich kook and go to UNC and marry the same rich kook and they could have a couple kids and buy a big house near his. He’d been planning it all out for her since before she was born and you had thrown a wrench in that plan.  
“It’s a delicate subject.”
“No,” you laughed and shook your head, “your dad’s a total homophobe. What’s he got against two super-hot girls dating each other?”
“When one of them is his daughter, I don’t think it’s at the top of his approved list.” She replied. “We should be working on this project anyway...I want a good grade and so do you.”
“Sarah-”
“No. Cause you’ll say something that you know I wanna hear and then you’ll do the stupid slow walk over to my chair and put your hands on the arm rests and I’ll be totally defenseless and then I’ll do something I totally regret...like kissing you.” Sarah said, “or letting you kiss me.”
“You’d totally regret it if we kissed?” You asked. “Positive?”
“Yes I’m positive.”
“We could test it out? Just to make sure?”
“No.”  
You shrugged, grabbing your math text off the bed and setting it on your lap again, “okay, I guess we should get back to work then.”
“What?” Sarah almost sounded shocked and really she shouldn’t have been. She should’ve known when the teacher put the two of you together for the project that this was exactly where she would end up at some point within the three weeks. Though really, she’d held out a lot longer than she ever thought she would be able to. “That’s it? You’re just going back to the project?”
“You said that’s what you wanted to do.”
She groaned and tugged at the roots of her hair for a second before looking at you, “you are the most frustrating, annoying, dense person in the entire world and I cannot believe that we-”
While she reamed you out, you had put your book aside and gotten up, going over to her and doing exactly what she said you would. You put your hands on the armrests of her desk chair and you leaned in and kissed her mid-sentence. “Is that what I was supposed to do?” You asked, pulling away just enough to see her face.  
Sarah wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you toward her and forcing you to stabilize yourself with a knee on the side of her leg, practically sitting on her lap. “Something like that.” She finally said, “though I would’ve appreciated a little warning.”
“Oh, sorry, you seemed stressed,” you replied, feigning innocence, “I just wanted to help you relax.”
“Is stressed the word?” She joked, tension melting as she brushed her nose against yours. She leaned forward so your foreheads were touching, her eyelashes just ghosting a touch on your cheeks when she closed her eyes for a split second.  
“Extremely hot? Sexy...a major turn on.” You joked, kissing her again. “God, imagine if you’d been paired with like...Topper for this? You’d be kissing him right now.”
“Stop trying to ruin the moment and kiss me.” Sarah laughed.
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absolutepokemontrash · 4 years ago
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MC is Half Demon and Blah Blah Blah-
Time for the Group Retreat!
Part 1 Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Lessons 5-6 Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4
I’m quite hyped for this one, ladies, gents, and esteemed readers! For simplicity’s sake, since this is before M!MC and A!MC arrive, L!MC will go back to being referred to as just MC. Enjoy the Headcanons!
Since the previous Underground Tomb incident ended much less violently, Lucifer is now more worried than angry about MC’s rampant shennaniganery.
Like... his kid was poking holes in his totally foolproof “Your cow-uncle went to live on a farm in the human world” story. What if MC somehow got into the attic and got hurt?!
It didn’t help that they were still in this weird phase of their father/child relationship. On one hand, Lucifer obviously cares for his kid, and his kid likes him... but it’s also only been less than three months and we all know how emotionally constipated Lucifer is.
MC’s also getting REAL sus of all the secrets their dear old dad is keeping... doesn’t help that they STILL haven’t went up into the attic.
Anyhoo~ the announcement for the retreat was a barrel of laughs.
“I’m proposing, a group retreat!”
Everyone met Diavolo’s announcement with the exact same confused reaction. It’s like the entire assembly hall was doing the ‘Guy Blinking’ meme.
“A... group retreat?” Lucifer repeated slowly. “For what reason exactly, Lord Diavolo?”
The Crown Prince was giddy with excitement as he explained. “MC told me about their middle school overnight trip and it sounded like it would be quite fun!”
Simeon, Luke, MC, and Solomon were all seated next to each other in the ‘exchange student seats of less importance’. Luke leaned over and whispered a question to MC.
“Why are you so friendly with the crown prince?”
MC smirked and shrugged. “Lucifer had the Demon-Flu and couldn’t go meet with Lord Diavolo last week so I went for him. Lord Diavolo’s surprisingly bad at Connect Four but has really good luck in Snakes and Ladders.”
Luke’s jaw dropped in complete and utter shock and horror.
“We’re playing CandyLand and the Game of Life next time, want to come?” MC added.
“Play CandyLand... with him..?” Luke looked at Diavolo, who was still explaining his plan for the retreat, then looked back at MC. “I’ll only go to shield you from his corrupting influence.”
“Yeah... Corrupting...” MC had to hold back a laugh at the thought of Diavolo, who during MC’s visit lit up like a Christmas tree upon being called ‘Dia’ and believed that Mood Rings were the greatest human invention ever, being a corrupting influence.
“MC! Torture dungeon or no!?” MC was snapped out of their conversation by Mammon shouting at them from his seat.
“What?”
“Do ya think there’s a torture dungeon under the castle, or not?”
“I’m not sure,” MC turned to Diavolo. “Lord Diavolo, is there a torture dungeon under the Demon Lord’s Castle?”
There is in fact, no torture dungeon. Presumably...
Everyone packed up and headed out to the Demon Lord’s Castle!
The fabulous seven all broke several speed limits and traffic laws in order to be there early. Listen, they had to get there before Purgatory Hall, it was a matter of pride.
Besides, what’s the Royal guard going to do? Arrest six of the seven rulers of hell and a kid? Ha. No. Not when Diavolo controls their paychecks.
The rooming situation remained the same, Asmo, Simeon, and MC were roomed together, and MC got to watch Asmo get psychologically profiled by Simeon. It was truly a sight to behold.
MC was nice enough to assure Asmo that they really liked him and thought he was very sweet.
Asmo, not used to being complimented on his personality, almost started openly weeping.
So, the tour of the Demon Lord’s Castle began! Asmo got yelled at by his ex in the painting and the usual batch of idiots got sucked into the catacombs under the castle.
Lucifer wasn’t terribly sure how or if he should express his concern for MC being stuck in the labyrinth.
All these new fatherly feelings of worry are very very odd. He didn’t worry this much for Satan, mainly because Satan was usually the threat.
Even as a baby...
Lucifer found himself checking his DDD every few minutes to see if MC had texted or called from wherever the painting dragged them to, never mind that if they did text he’d hear the phone ding.
“Lucifer, don’t worry too much,” Diavolo patted Lucifer on the shoulder, a bright smile on his face. “Your brothers and MC will be perfectly fine! There’s nothing too dangerous in the catacombs that they wouldn’t be able to take care of.”
Resigning himself to the fact that MC was under the care of his last choices for babysitting, Lucifer put away his DDD. “I know they’ll be fine, but I’m not overly pleased with the situation.” He shot a glare at Helene in the portrait, who rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.
“Lucifer worrying about someone, I’m truly, genuinely shocked.” Hearing Satan’s attempt at goading him, Lucifer, flawless demon that he is, resisted the urge to throw his DDD at his brother.
“Quiet, Satan.”
————
“WHY THE FUCK IS A SNAKE DOWN HERE?!”
“ITS HENRY 1.0!”
“YEAH THAT REALLY CLEARS STUFF UP, LEVI!”
MC and Levi continued their screaming match as the group ran for dear life from a giant snake.
Yeah... nothing the brothers couldn’t handle... sure, Lord Diavolo...
They made it out of the scary catacombs... don’t worry.
Lucifer did that parent-thing where he cleaned the catacomb dust off MC’s face with a napkin.
Yay! Parenting!
Failed pillow fight attempt #1 happened that evening. Because Mammon was obsessed with being the fun-uncle and saw his brothers encroaching on his place as favourite uncle.
MC doesn’t know how to break it to him that he’ll probably always be the favourite uncle and he doesn’t have to be such a dumbass to keep his spot.
Scavenger hunt went on as canon dictates.
Asmo had his diva tantrum and stormed off, but MC also wanted to win so they didn’t go after him.
Clearly expecting someone to go beg him to come back, Asmo was very annoyed when no one went after him.
“Um, helloooo? Anyone going to comfort me~?”
“Nope.”
“Well I don’t want your comfort anyway, SOLOMON.”
It was very close, L!MC insisted their loss came from sabotage. No evidence was found but just LOOK at Satan’s face.
Time for the Formal Dance~
If you’re wondering why Luke didn’t say anything when MC was suddenly poofed into their demon form, you’re assuming that Mammon wasn’t in on the “let’s prank the chihuahua” plan.
“Mammon..? Is MC behind you?”
“Nope! Why?”
MC was able to get to the other side of the ballroom with Luke none the wiser! Hell yeah, nothing like screwing with your friend!
So it’s canon that Lucifer is like, a solid 20/10, therefore MC is ADORABLE. What I’m saying is, some of the younger demons asked them to dance.
Asmo was also being MC’s hype man, which was very nice of him. Mammon also tried to give advice on how to be cool and suave. Beel was there for moral support.
“Alright kiddo, you need to be aloof and mysterious! People love aloof and mysterious, that’s why I’m so popular.”
“Don’t listen to him, MC. He flew into a wall as a kid and it killed all his brain cells. Just be proper but not snooty, sweet but not saccharine, friendly but not annoying,”
“Ask them if they want to share some of the hors d’oeuvres.” 
“Okay, first, aloof and mysterious are the last words I would ever use to describe you, Mammon. Second, Asmo I have no clue what you’re asking me to do. Third... Beel that’s the best advice I’ve received in recent memory.”
None of that mattered anyway because MC got swarmed with dance offers.
“Well,” MC smirked and held out their hand at the demon that was bold enough to ask them to dance first. “I admire the confidence.”
The demon’s smile brightened, then dropped completely when their gaze drifted behind MC. “I uh... on second thought... I’m gonna...”
MC’s potential dance partners all quickly scattered to the snack table. The half demon growled and turned around to see their father acting like he didn’t just scare away MC’s groupies.
“Father! What was that for?!” MC huffed, Lucifer rolled his eyes and grabbed MC’s wrist and began to pull them away from the dance floor.
“You’re too young to dance.”
“That’s crazy! They looked like they were my age.” MC protested, their wings fluttering in annoyance.
“Even if they looked to be your age, MC, they’re hundreds of years older.” Lucifer said calmly.
“What about that equivalent age stuff you told me about? Like how Luke is hundreds of years old but by angel/human standards he’s technically younger than me?”
“That doesn’t matter right now.” Lucifer lightly pushed MC towards the hallway that led back to their room.
“But I want to dance with someone!” MC felt their wings involuntarily fluff up.
Lucifer turned and smiled at his dear little brat, crouching slightly to get to their level. “Not on my watch.”
MC’s face was literally this: >:0
Lucifer is out here being the dad in every comedy that involves someone bringing home their partner to meet their parents.
MC was banished to their room, they spent their time angrily reading the manga they had packed.
When Levi escaped the party slightly later MC grilled him for details of what went on after they left.
“Nothing too interesting... except... um...”
“Spit it out, Levi!”
“...lrddiavlondlucferdnced”
“I can’t understand you, stop mumbling.”
“Lord Diavolo and Lucifer danced together...”
“...”
“...”
“I MISSED THAT?!”
So yes, MC’s desire to get a picture of Lucifer sleeping stems from VENGEANCE!
How DARE their father send MC up to their room and make them miss their OTP dancing together!?
So they call up their troupe of idiots and get ready to go be menaces to society.
MC also invites along Asmo because he seemed like he could use the adventure.
And because MC couldn’t plan the prank without Asmo noticing so it was better to just implicate him as well...
“Grrr...”
MC brightened and clapped their hands. “I know that growl!”
“It’s not my stomach, I packed snacks.” MC couldn’t see this, considering the room was pitch black (it must’ve been some kind of magic because demons have excellent night vision), but Beel waved a bag of chips in the air and got to eating.
“No, I’m not talking about your stomach, Beel.” MC skipped towards the source of the growling despite Mammon and Levi’s pleas for them to stop.
Ah! There he was!
“Cerberus!” MC cooed, the three headed dog stopped growling and barked happily. “Whose a good boy? Is it you?”
Cerberus let lose a bark that would probably make anyone crap their pants, but MC giggled and kept petting him. “Yeah! You’re the good boy! You like cuddles! Yes you do! Yes you do!”
A flash of light from a camera caused MC to drop their baby talk voice and stare angrily in the direction where the light came from.
“Whoever took that picture better delete it or I’m going to feed you to the dog.”
Cerberus growled in agreement. What a good boy.
“Well, as nice as this is...” Asmo huffed. “We’ve clearly been duped because this is not Lucifer and Diavolo’s room.”
“Oh well!” MC chirped and continued to pet the three headed dog. “Look at the doggy!”
“MC, you’re crazy. Dontcha ever forget that.” Mammon whimpered as Cerberus growled at him.
So yeah, they couldn’t get out of the room, so they ended up opening up the other door and falling into the catacombs like a bunch of lemmings.
Asmo charmed Henry, and they got out of the labyrinth no problem.
Yay! No consequences! Oh no- hi Lucifer.
Lucifer gave them all the mother of all lectures. Satan showed up with the rest of the gang and brought popcorn.
Belphie wasn’t there, okay? Satan needed to be a little shit for him.
Ah yes, the pillow fight... Mammon’s crusade to be the best uncle culminated in a massive pillow fight that ended with MC, Lucifer, and Diavolo standing over everyone’s unconscious bodies.
So they uh... won the pillow fight.
MC couldn’t sleep. They legitimately couldn’t. As exhausting as the pillow fight victory had been, everyone was snoring, and MC was bleary eyed and awake at one in the morning.
They eventually sat up and looked around, Asmo was passed out in a very unflattering position, Solomon was chanting god knows what in his sleep, Levi was half hanging off Simeon’s bed, Simeon and Luke were sleeping like angels (hehehehe-), Beel was in the middle of eating his pillow in his sleep, Mammon appeared to be dreaming about winning the lottery, and Satan was... suspiciously absent.
He was there a minute ago... weird.
Deciding that this wasn’t worth it and they should just go sleep somewhere else, MC got out of bed and avoided stepping on anyone as they vacated the room.
The Demon Lord’s Castle at night could rival the House of Lamentation in terms of overall creepiness. MC had gotten used to the spirits and curses that littered their home, but they had only been to the Demon Lord’s Castle once before, so they were extra careful not to accidentally touch anything. Their stomach rumbled and they frowned.
Damn, they had the midnight munchies... they needed a snack.
MC made their way to the kitchen and on there way, noticed a peculiar room through a half open door. Taking a few steps back to peek into it, they noticed... doors. A lot of doors. And ivy covered steps. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to any of the placements, and the room was... weirdly chilly.
“You can come in if you’d like, MC.”
Barbatos’ voice nearly caused MC to hit a high note that they hadn’t been able to hit since their voice began to change. They straightened out their wrinkled pyjamas and stepped inside.
The butler himself was walking down one of the flights of stairs.
“Um...” Quickly remembering their manners, MC straightened their posture and cleared their throat. “Good evening Barbatos.”
Barbatos smiled and inclined his head in turn. “Good evening to you as well, MC.”
“How did you know it was me outside? You were up there a second ago.” MC asked.
“It’s a part of my powers. I can see possible futures, and I foresaw you passing by my room and getting curious.” Barbatos explained.
“Oh,” MC said, half nodding and continuing to look around. A the sound of a door closing out of MC’s vision made them squeak and look around for the source of the noise. “What was that?!”
“It’s nothing to be worried about.” Barbatos raised his hands in a placating gesture. “These doors in my room are gateways to different timelines and some are gateways into the past of this particular timeline. That was another version of me passing by.”
“Does this... happen often?” MC knitted their eyebrows.
Barbatos hesitated before answering. “Not really. It’s quite rare. Lord Diavolo has expressly forbidden me from using my full powers freely.”
“Ah... makes sense...”
“Now, I believe you came down for snacks?”
MC blinked in surprise. “How did you- oh... the time magic...”
“Yes, the time magic. Now, would you prefer yogurt and fruit, or apples and peanut butter?”
“Yogurt and fruit please!”
I’m sure MC’s knowledge of how Barbie’s room works will totally not come into play later. I’m sure.
Solomon and MC graced the brunch table with their cooking. I think you can guess how it would have turned out if Barbatos hadn’t intervened.
Rest In Peace to Beel’s tastebuds.
Anyway, the rest of the retreat was all fun and good.
MC may or may not have slipped up and called Diavolo ‘Dia’ in front of Lucifer. It would’ve sparked a lecture if Dia’s puppy-like excitement wasn’t so damn adorable.
Lucifer’s got a heart... somewhere... it’s probably all shrivelled up and tiny, but I’m sure it’s there.
Everyone went back home, brought closer together through... pillow fights and surviving Solomon’s cooking I guess..?
Anyway, MC got home, unpacked their stuff, watched Kakegurui with Levi and Mammon, let Asmo paint their nails, made and ate dinner with Beel, continued their piano lessons with Lucifer, and received a 100% fake smile from Satan.
It was a nice day with their new family, MC curled up in their bed and prepared to go to sleep.
“Help me!”
MC lurched upwards in their bed, whipping their head from side to side, trying to find the source of the voice. Their room was completely empty, the perks of being half demon extended to being able to see in the dark. No new smells either, they were alone in the room.
Auditory hallucinations were common before falling asleep after being sleep deprived, creepy, but not too unusual.
“MC!”
Okay- that one couldn’t be ignored. It was common knowledge that the House of Lamentation was definitely haunted in some capacity, but the ghosts never really bothered the demons living inside, MC was partly convinced that some of the ghosts didn’t even notice that the demons were there. So it couldn’t have been a ghost calling their name.
“MC! I need help!”
The voice reverberated through their head, like it was trying to hit every part of their skull to make sure it was at least felt if MC couldn’t hear it. MC massaged their scalp and got out of bed.
The House of Lamentation at night truly lived up to its haunted reputation. Cold, clammy, dark, even by demon standards. No spooky old house was going to scare MC though, they walked down the hall with their head held high.
They walked closer to walls and furniture, knowing that the floor was less likely to creak in those areas. How did they know that? Mammon had told them it worked like a charm. Well, it’d work better for him if he stopped tripping over the furniture and alerting Lucifer.
MC was much more nimble and careful, stepping slowly and lightly around the hallways until they reached the door to the attic. They reached out to clasp their hand around the doorknob, then froze. It smelled like…
Oh no.
MC leapt away from the door like it was rigged to explode if they touched it and practically dove for cover into an alcove. The all too-recent smell of Lucifer’s fancy cologne and the increasing sound of someone coming down the stairs made them clamp their hand over their mouth and crouch down.
What was their father doing up there?
He had said the attic was full of old junk and there was no reason to go up there, so why exactly did he-
The door slammed open and Lucifer stomped down the hallway back towards his room, MC presumed. They were about to let out a sigh of relief when the footsteps paused. MC felt their heart drop right into their gut when they heard the footsteps coming back in their direction.
What were they going to say to him when he found them? ‘Sorry! This isn’t where the bathrooms are!’ The last thing MC wanted was to add to their father’s ever growing list of stresses. MC was totally responsible and grown-up, their father didn’t need to worry.
MC clamped their eyes shut and tried to slow their heart rate. Demons were beings of darkness and shadow, they could blend in quite easily. They took a deep breath, cleared their head, and felt the shadows of the hallway shift and cover them like a blanket.
Lucifer’s footsteps stopped, MC heard a tired sigh, then the footsteps started up again, this time in the direction of his room.
They allowed themselves a sigh of relief before relieving themselves of their hiding space and opening the door leading to the attic staircase.
If the rest of the House of Lamentation was considered clammy, cold, and foreboding, the attic staircase was that multiplied by a factor of twelve. MC felt themselves shudder involuntarily when they stepped closer to the staircase. Every primal part of their brain was telling them to turn around and walk away, but one tiny part was holding them back. They placed their foot on the first step, waiting for any kind of resistance, nothing other than the feeling of passing through invisible cobwebs.
“MC?”
Upon hearing their name, MC craned their neck to try and get a look at what could be waiting for them at the top of the stairs.
“Are you coming, or not?”
The cascade of warning sirens that began to blare in MC’s head went ignored as they continued to scale the staircase.
When they reached the final step, they were met with a long hallway, with a single door on the right side of the wall.
“H-hello?” MC tried to instill some force into their voice, but it still ended up quavering a little.
“Down here.” Someone knocked on the wall next to the door, almost causing MC to jump.
Oh. Oh no. MC stood straight in front of the door, and when they saw who was looking back at them they nearly passed out.
“Belphegor..?”
Belphegor’s eyes flashed as he gave MC a once over. His eyes narrowed when his gaze snapped to MC’s. The analytical expression melted into a lazy grin.
“That’s me,” he said softly. “Nice to finally meet you, MC.”
252 notes · View notes
andypantsx3 · 4 years ago
Text
statistically significant | 5 | bakugou/reader
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length: 23,490 words | 7 chapters
summary: You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.
tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, reader-insert
warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, m/f threats of violence, problematic behavior
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The next few weeks were a blur of activity.
When he wasn’t off on patrol or a mission, Mina and Kaminari kept Bakugou busy with dozens of team exercises, all of which needed your analysis. They ran him through any and every scenario that entered their brains, and after the first few rounds, Bakugou seemed to resign himself to their ministrations, his explosions no longer rattling the windows of the training room in displeasure. You’d reviewed footage of the first couple of rounds all together, the trio of heroes jammed into the tiny surveillance room with you, grimy with the ashy residue of Bakugou’s explosions, someone or another’s shirt partly melted off, and all of them looking exhausted but pleased.
Eventually, though, it became difficult for you to spare time in between your meetings with the other agency heroes. Bakugou was not helping matters by kicking the door down in the middle of your meetings and attempting to bodily remove anyone you were in conversation with whenever he wanted an update. You were dedicating almost as much time to breaking up fights and rescheduling appointments as you were to having the actual meetings themselves.
In the interest of maintaining the peace--and health and safety the Miruko agency employees--you wrote a quick script that monitored the training room footage and automatically ran your analysis program any time it keyed in on Bakugou, Mina, and Kaminari together on screen. It forwarded the results to their phones so that Bakugou wouldn’t come stalking in and making any more enemies than he already had.
That seemed to pacify him for a couple of days, and you managed almost twenty blissful meetings uninterrupted, until a Friday morning when no sooner had you flipped the lights on in the surveillance room than Bakugou was ripping the door open after you.
“Enough slacking off, nerd,” he growled, stalking over to loom over you in a vaguely menacing manner. It was early but he looked wide awake, maybe a little mussed like he'd already been training, the same combination of annoyingly handsome and intimidating as always. He was also dressed in some variation of his usual training set, dark fabric clinging to his chest, arms bare. The sight was really way too much for this early in the morning.
His sudden entrance startled you out of a yawn, and you just barely managed to catch your laptop before it slipped through your fingers.
“Good morning?” you hedged, looking up at him in apprehension.
He made an angry, dismissive noise. Before you could dredge up enough energy for a proper eye roll, something small and warm was thrust unceremoniously into your chest, briefly winding you.
You looked down at the item he was attempting to fracture your sternum with and found yourself staring at a white takeout cup.
You looked up at him in confusion but he just glared passively until you looked down again.
“....what is this?” you asked. Your hands raised automatically to take the cup from him.
“Battery acid,” Bakugou said.
You stopped, gaping at him, and he rolled his eyes. “The fuck do you think it is, idiot?” he demanded, gesturing at it forcefully.
You looked down at the cup again, a soft swirl of steam issuing from the opening in the cap. You brought it hesitantly to your face. A cursory sniff revealed very little in the way of poison--not that you had much expertise on the subject--but it did smell suspiciously like the house blend from the nice bakery down the street.
You stared at Bakugou with misgiving. “What is this, actually?”
He made a disbelieving noise. “You spend all this time acting like such a smartass and you don’t even know what a fucking coffee is? The fuck do you think you drink every morning?”
You couldn’t help but stare at him. There was absolutely no way Bakugou Katsuki was bringing you coffee. This had to be some kind of trick.
His threats from a few weeks ago floated to the forefront of your mind. I’m going to win the bet, he’d said, and then you’re in for it. Was this part of "in for it"? What was “it”, exactly, and was it likely that “it” entailed poisoning you in broad daylight in the middle of a hero agency?
The offing you in broad daylight seemed very much his style, but poison seemed a roundabout way to do it. No, if he was going to settle a score with you, it was going to be something much more immediate, and probably obnoxiously flashy.
You brought the cup to your mouth, taking a tentative sip. No acid tang of poison met your tongue, only the rich, buttery taste of the coffee. Though arsenic was said to be flavorless... Damn that was good, though.
Bakugou hovered impatiently, like he was waiting for something, wearing a strangely blank expression. You watched him nervously. Was the poison slow acting or something?
His scarlet gaze locked onto yours, and it suddenly hit you what he must be doing. You almost dropped the coffee. Was he...waiting for a thank you? As in, he was aware of and actively acknowledging that he’d just done something for you?
You decided to test the waters. “Thank you, Bakugou.”
He made an impatient clicking noise. “Fucking took you long enough.”
You frantically schooled your features into a mask that betrayed nothing of your shock. Christ, he was serious. He’d actually brought you a coffee, and he knew it was a nice thing to do? There was no way he was doing this just to do this. He had to want something from you.
“...So, what is it that you’re bribing me for?” you asked.
Bakugou’s face went dark, the tips of his ears strangely pink. “Fuck you. I don’t need to fucking bribe you for shit, with your obvious little crush on me.” He took a threatening step closer, and that familiar scent of gunpowder and caramel filled your nose.
You felt your face heat, your heart jumping into your mouth. Not this shit again.
So, it was absolutely true that you had a lot of trouble detaching your eyes from the width of his biceps, and that your brain ran wild loops every time he was close. But just because you had difficulty looking anywhere else when he was in a room, didn't mean you had a crush on him. He was way too much of a brat and it was exhausting trying to keep up with his weirdly intense personality. Just because he was pretty did not mean you had a thing for him...
“Why are you like this?” you complained, edging away from him as he moved nearer.
He smirked knowingly, taking another step closer. A small, traitorous shiver went up your spine at the thrill of a man so close. To your eternal embarrassment, Bakugou’s keen gaze seemed to catch it, a darker smile curling his mouth.
You opened your mouth to make some kind of excuse--though what you would have come up with was completely beyond you--when a head of wild pink curls poked itself through the door.
The intruder let out a quiet gasp, but that was enough to break the moment. Bakugou whirled on her, red eyes glaring.
“Raccoon, do you ever mind your own fucking business?” he demanded, in the tones of someone interrogating a war criminal.
Mina’s dark eyes widened innocently. “What? How was I supposed to know this is where you’d gone?” she asked. There was note of something gloating in her voice, however, and you got the feeling that she’d been hoping to catch you in some kind of act.
Your face went hotter. Why did everyone think there was a thing with you and Bakugou, including, apparently, Bakugou?
“Anyway, I’m not here for you,” Mina informed him briskly, derailing your wandering train of thought. “I was gonna ask stats girl to give us a hand this morning.”
She turned to you, her smile slightly predatory. “Blasty’s better at sticking close now, so we started focusing team exercises on victim evaluation. Any chance you can play civilian? Denki was for a bit but he started getting too into it.” A grimace flitted over her pretty features. “I almost lost an arm trying to stop Katsuki from blasting him clear into the stratosphere.”
You looked at Bakugou, but an irritated twitch of a blonde eyebrow was all you got by way of an explanation.
Your thoughts turned inward, wondering if this was a good idea. You’d been hoping to use the morning to get a little work done on a prototype of a productionized model, seeing as you had fewer meetings than usual today. And you hadn’t really come prepared for a potential roll around in the dirt and dust of the city simulation training spaces.
As if sensing your hesitation, Mina chirped, “I’ll let you a spare set of my training clothes so yours don’t get dirty! And you would probably be saving Denki’s life here--don’t you owe him one from the Hero Awards?”
Your gaze cut back to Bakugou without any direction from your brain. Bakugou appeared to be making no attempt to look apologetic about the incident at the Awards. He raised an eyebrow in challenge when your look lingered too long for his liking, red eyes narrowing in on you with a sudden heat. “The fuck are you looking at, nerd?”
“He means please,” Mina said, her voice going honeyed and wheedling. “Plus, it will be fun! I promise you I won’t melt any of your body parts off. Just Blasty’s, I swear.”
You couldn’t help the way your eyes stayed firmly attached to Bakugou’s face. His mouth twitched in obvious irritation at the implication that he would ever say please, but he made no move to correct Mina, limbs drawn in tight, defensive.
You looked down at the cup in your hand, sighing. He’d brought you a coffee and was doing minimal yelling. He appeared to be making some kind of effort here--though to what end you weren’t sure--and you supposed contributing to his training was ultimately your goal here, anyway. You could reward him for behaving himself as well as he knew how, and work towards your promotion at the same time.
“Fine,” you allowed, watching as Mina startled wiggling in obvious delight. “Let me finish this coffee and then I’ll help out.”
Mina clapped her rosy palms together. “Ahh! This is going to be so fun! You’ll see.”
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Mina’s definition of fun was any civilian’s definition of fucking terrifying.
It was one thing to see the three heroes using their powers on screen, or safely tucked away behind a meter of quirk-enforced glass. It was another thing entirely to be in the center of the action, acid sizzling mere inches from your feet.
“You said you wouldn’t melt anything off!” you shouted, stumbling away from Mina.
She’d accused Kaminari of getting too into playing civilian--whatever that meant--but you thought she was way too into playing villain herself. A hard look passed over her pretty features, sending a chill down your spine. With that dark look, those unusual eyes and twisted horns took on a more sinister nuance. She looked almost like an alien, and moved like one too, stalking you through the twisting alleys of the training cityscape.
“Accidents happen,” she cooed, almost happily. She threw up a twisting fistful of acid that hardened into a warped wall in front of you. You skidded wildly on the gravel to avoid it. “Now stay still, you’re supposed to be a hostage.”
A choked little noise escaped you. Honestly, thank god this woman was a hero. You might have trouble sleeping at night if you knew a villain like this was stalking the streets, unchecked and unbound by social mores. You’d probably still have trouble getting to sleep tonight, even after she went back to smiling and bouncing all over the place.
“Actually, maybe Kaminari should take over again,” you managed, stepping back from her. “Not really sure if I’m cut out for this.”
A loud boom drowned out her reply, an office front a few blocks away crumbling under the force of the blast. You gaped at the force that shook the street, even blocks away.
Mina used your distraction to her advantage, grabbing the back of your shirt to haul you towards her. “He’s so obvious, my god--how he got to be number eight is beyond me. Now come over here and do your best to look injured. He needs practice evacuating people instead of coming in blasting.”
She fumbled with something on her belt, pulling out several bright red bands that proclaimed various types of injuries in blocky white font. Then she leaned over you, shoving a band up your arm that announced SEVERE BURNS, and another on your left ankle, proclaiming a DISLOCATION.
She clicked her tongue, looking you over. “Would more be overkill? This is enough that he should at least hesitate before trying to blow me sky high…” She seemed to decide against more, shoving the rest back into her belt. Then she gently pressed you down to the ground at her feet.
“This is the part where I get to monologue,” she said, winking down at you. “Do your best to look helpless and make sure your severe burns thing is showing. I wanna see if he can prioritize rescuing you over my trash talk.”
A soft groan escaped you. Fat chance. Bakugou was the most foul tempered little shit you had ever met, and while it was true that his single-minded focus on winning the bet meant he was tolerant enough to be doing this exercise in the first place, you highly doubted he was going to hesitate if Mina was pushing his buttons as expertly as she usually did.
The chance to find out came soon enough. There was a strangled kind of yelp and a crackle of lightning followed a thunderous boom a few blocks away as Bakugou presumably rendered Kaminari’s perimeter defense useless. Then with another screaming explosion, he was rocketing over the buildings separating you, barrelling straight down on Mina.
Mina threw up another acid shield that hardened into a defensive wall. Bakugou’s first attack cracked it but didn’t manage to penetrate. There was barely a breath between the cracking and another explosion, however, and then the wall exploded inwards in a crackling shower of fizzing pieces. Mina crouched over you, breathing excitedly, “This is the fun part!”
Whatever reply you might have given her was drowned out by an angry series of hissing snaps from Bakugou’s palm as he stalked closer to you. The right half of his shirt had been singed off by lightning, it looked like, and a fine veneer of dust layered in his hair and on patches of his skin. It was just a training simulation, but he looked half-wild, teeth bared and eyes bright over the ash on his face. If he looked nearly this intense in real life situations, it was a wonder that anyone would agree to be evacuated by him at all.
Maybe that’s why he sucked at rescues.
“It’s fucking over, raccoon eyes,” he said. “Hand her over.”
Mina laughed, a delicate sound like bells. “Not another step closer, hero, or I’ll melt a hole straight through her pretty neck.”
You twitched away from her minutely. God she was terrifying.
“Quit it with the fucking villain act, fuckwad, or I’ll blow you all the way to hell,” Bakugou growled.
Mina reached for your arm, pulling you up next to her. “Hmm, then I hope your aim is good. She’s already got one set of severe burns.”
Bakugou’s crimson gaze cut down to your shoulder and the displeased twist to his mouth deepened. “Fucking--of course you got yourself fucking injured. Fucking idiot.”
“Hey,” you protested, shifting against the band. “I’m not actually.”
Mina kicked you. “Moments to live, this one. Unless you can pull a healing quirk out of those glorious buttcheeks of yours.”
You choked on your own spit while Bakugou snarled. “I’m gonna fucking remember this, you strawberry fuck.”
“Maybe. But she won’t,” Mina said, and suddenly there was a rosy palm in front of your face, dripping acid. A drop landed deliberately on the fold of the training pants she’d lent you, searing straight through with a loud hiss. Your heartbeat spiked in violent alarm. You reeled back, but Mina was still crouched over you, and you banged into her collarbone.
In the next second, everything went to shit. Something searing hot blazed just over your shoulder and Mina swore, jerking back from you in the blink of an eye. There was a deafening crack and a rush of burning air over you as Bakugou let loose an explosion at the same time he seized your ankle and pulled you straight underneath where he’d aimed the blast, missing you by inches.
“What the fuck,” you gasped. Bakugou grunted, and yanked harder, pulling you straight to him.
“Quit being such a fucking princess,” he growled, shifting an arm underneath you. You froze, suddenly wishing that his explosion had managed to hit you, searing off every nerve ending.
“What are you doing?” you demanded, sputtering in alarm when he hoisted you against him. You could feel every place your body touched his, and smell the sharp gunpowder and sugar scent of his sweat. He hooked his arm firmly around your waist, glaring down at you with one baleful red eye.
“Fuckstick gave you a dislocated ankle so I would have to fight her off with one fucking arm and carry you with the other,” he bit out, whirling when a stream of acid came hissing your way.
You gripped at his shirt, swearing. “Oh my god. What the hell is she doing, aiming for me? This is a simulation! Also, I can walk.”
He grunted. “You can shut the fuck up is what you can do.”
He executed another agile dodge, pulling you with him. “Now hold on, princess, this is gonna be a rough ride with one arm.”
You didn’t have time to ask him what the hell he was on about. He aimed a shot over your shoulder, the heat simmering and boiling in the air next to your ear, and you heard the impact of Mina hitting the pavement behind you. In the next second, Bakugou tightened his arm around you, and aimed a palm for the ground.
The next thing you were aware of was a strangled screaming sound. It took a second for you to realize the mortifying noise was coming from you. But in your defense, Bakugou had literally blasted the two of you clear above the alleyway. You could see the wreckage from Bakugou’s scuffle with Kaminari, and Mina scrambling to her feet, much smaller and further away that you were comfortable with. Your hands fisted in his shirt and you nearly decapitated him with the force with which you shoved your face into his shoulder.
Even with your eyes closed, you could tell Bakugou hadn’t been kidding about the rough ride. Another blast from his palm jerked you sharply to the right, and he uttered a soft swear.
“Hold tight, nerd,” he said in your ear. There was a series of more explosions and you spun violently in the opposite direction. You went careening over a low roof top to land heavily on the pavement, Bakugou twisting at the last second to take the initial impact to his shoulder, rolling over you to distribute the momentum.
You rolled twice more, eventually stopping with his hard body under yours, your face jammed unpleasantly into his shoulder, his arms bracketing your sides. One of his hands was fisted in the back of your shirt, and a tuft of blonde hair brushed your cheek.
He let out a huff. “If you ever let her put the fucking dislocation band on you again, I’ll melt your damn laptop.”
You pulled back from him, hissing into his face. “If you dare, I'll--”
“The fuck you gonna do, nerd?” he demanded, sitting up. Straight into you.
You gripped his shirt so as not to fall right off of him, widening your knees for balance. Then you froze when you realized he was pressed against you everywhere, hard muscle and the heat of his skin bleeding through your training clothes. He was hot like a furnace, ashy and dust-streaked like one too, and his eyes glowed like banked coals. He gazed back at you, his mouth setting with some kind of a challenge.
Then those red eyes trailed slowly and deliberately down your face, stopping right on your mouth. His fingers tightened in the back of your shirt.
You couldn’t help your sharp inhale. Holy shit, was he...going to kiss you?
You sat frozen, locked in place, neither willing or able to move away, like you were being pulled towards him like some kind of magnet. Was he really going to do it? Was he really going to kiss you? Or, no...were you going to kiss him?
You could, you thought hysterically. That’s what it felt like, watching him breathe shallowly, eyes fixed on your mouth. You could kiss him and he would let you.
Had that been what all the your little crush on me shit had been about? Had he been torturing you not because he’d noted the way your eyes lingered over him, but because it was something he’d wanted to happen? Had that been what all the threats were for, what the crowding you against walls and the frigging coffee had been about? When Mina had said he’d been fixated on you, did she actually mean it less like revenge and more like actual attraction?
You let out a shaky breath. Only one way to find out, you thought wildly, leaning forward with your pulse singing in your veins.
And then an explosion rocked the foundations of the building, throwing you forward against Bakugou’s chest. You gasped, the breath knocked out of you, and whipped around to glare at his free hand in accusation. Bakugou pulled you back, however, a hard looking passing over his face.
It was only seconds before Mina and Kaminari came scrambling out of the maze of training buildings, looking worried. Kaminari was already crackling with static, agitated whips of lighting zipping across his skin. Bakugou's palm started to grow hotter against your back.
His next words threw the situation into sharp clarity.
“That wasn’t from a training room.”
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pigeonp0st · 4 years ago
Note
could u do nat taking care of r when r gets sick (pretty please i beg of u)? preferably lots of cuddles 🥺🥺
idk i just love soft!nat 🥺
Natasha Romanoff x Reader #5
Words: 1,689
Tumblr media
Warnings: none?
Notes:
I didn’t really like how this one turned out but i’ve finally decided that staring at it in my drafts with disappointed isn’t gonna make it any better...so here it is. Thank you for requesting, and sorry for spelling mistakes. Hope you enjoy!
———
It started with a cold. Just a couple of sneezes, a runny nose, and a sore throat...the usual.
It started out with you trying your best to hide it. Hide the sickness. That plan went under the moment Natasha heard you sneeze during training... she had you confessing to your sins much too quickly.
Suffice to say she immediately kicked you out of the training area with demands to take some medicine.
So she was the first to realize that you were sick, and she was the first to realize you were getting worse instead of better. She’d pester you endlessly when you wouldn’t want to talk about it, and watch over you like a hawk.
It was sweet, but you also didn’t think it was necessary. You were sure you’d be fine in three or so days.
How wrong you were.
When you wake up with a 103° fever for the third day in a row it has you layed in bed for the whole day groaning about the inequalities of the world, and begging Natasha not to get a doctor for the 100th time.
You were fine. Totally fine.
Natasha watches you with a mix of amusement and concern from the corner of the room and suggests, gently, that maybe you’re not.
You peak over your covers to glare at her in something like betrayal. “I’d be fine if you’d stop pacing and come cuddle with me.”
She seems to think about her options for a long moment and right when you think she’s going to reject you she relents with a heavy sigh and gets into the bed.
She’s so blissfully cold it has you snuggling into her side immediately, both to warm her up and use her as your own personal ice pack.
“You’re burning up,” Natasha whispers, but she pulls you closer to her—like somehow if she’s close enough she can absorb some of your pain and make you feel just that little bit better. “If your fever rises even a little bit we’re going to the doctors, okay?”
She’s concerned and worried, and even though a stranger fussing over you is the last thing you want you know you have to give her this.
As soon as you nod your head in agreement some of the tension seeps out of her body, much to your relief. As ridiculous as it is, you’re worried about her worried about you—if that makes sense.
“Around 100,000 people died from the flu in 2019,” Natasha mumbles against your forehead. She adds quietly after a moment, “just in case you were wondering.”
You were not wondering. What the fuck.
“Nat...that statistic is mostly old people.”
“Yeah,” Nat agrees, “you’ll be fine.”
And despite your body's protest, and how much of a pain it is to pull away, you do, just so you can give Natasha an incredulous look so she knows just what you think about what she’s doing right now.
Her face is unexpectedly vulnerable when you see it. She isn’t trying to bother you...she’s just…she’s worrying herself crazy.
“Nat,” you sigh, ready to embark on the most comforting and articulate speech you can think of, but a sudden fit of coughs has you turning away hurriedly to muffle your face in a pillow.
When your lungs finally decide to stay in your body for now, and Natasha stops rubbing your back, you’re too tired to try and comfort her, so instead you mumble, on the verge of sleep, “if I die; just know I love you.”
Which, in hindsight, probably doesn’t help much.
But she doesn’t sound worried when she replies, just exasperated and fond. “I love you, too.”
———-
When you wake up again it’s to a bunch of kisses and beautiful red hair.
“Stop attacking me,” you grumble, trying to push her away, but you're not able to hide your smile. God, you love your badass (soft) girlfriend.
“Look who's not dead!”
Remembering your last words to her before you went to sleep has you finally opening your eyes and giving Nat a sheepish smile. Oops. “Look who really wants to get sick…”
“My immune system is stronger than yours,” Natasha scoffs, shoving both your medicine at you and a bottle of water.
“Asshole,” you mumble, moving to open the medicine bottle only to get stopped by a hand on your wrist. “What?”
“You need to eat first.”
Thus, starts the trip towards death.
————
“Oh my god, how much farther is it…”
Your fever is finally down and back to safer levels so naturally Natasha has insisted that you’re able to go to the kitchens yourself and sit outside to eat.
You need fresh air, she said.
The room is getting stuffy, she said.
It’ll be good for you, she said.
What a fucking devil.
“You’re literally the most dramatic person to ever grace this earth,” Natasha tells you for only the millionth time since the journey began. “Maybe if you stopped sliding against the wall and crawling on the floor like you got shot three times we’d get there faster.”
“Maybe if you’d help me—”
“I tried! But apparently i’m ruining your image.” She rolls her eyes when she says that, then turns away to grin like she thinks you won’t notice.
You’re a whipped idiot who's decided to make a complete full of yourself and waste what little energy you have just to get your girlfriend to laugh, and to prove to her that you’re doing better.
You’re definitely going to regret this later, but now, in the moment; This is totally worth it. No doubt.
————
Wanda is in the kitchen.
As soon as you see her you straighten up and stop leaning on the wall (and limping). Natasha laughs next to you when she notices.
“You’re doing better, Y/N?” Wanda asks, glancing over you before returning back to the soup she’s making. For you. She’s making soup for you.
You adore her. She’s your favorite person, she’s—
“Not your girlfriend,” Wanda interjects, amused, “and doing this as a concerned teammate, and because your girlfriend asked.”
“Yes, well I love you anyways. Your cooking has gotten very good,” you say, shooting her a grin while you practically bounce to the dining chair, in stark contrast to the way you were dragging yourself down the halls.
Natasha does a good job at trying to not look confused, but she clearly is. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Wanda informs her before you get the chance to.
“Favorite person for making you soup?” Natasha asks once Wanda’s done relaying your thoughts. She narrows her eyes at you then. “Not the person who has been taking care of you since you became an avenger, not the person who—”
“It’s very good soup, Nat.”
“Very,” Steve agrees from the living room.
Natasha sighs, takes a sniff of the soup, and resigns herself to the facts she’s faced with. “Yeah...it is.”
——-
“Close your mouth,” Natasha orders, tapping your chin. You listen, waiting patiently for the beep of the thermometer to signal it’s done.
When it does, Natasha pulls it back to study it. There’s a small lapse of anxious silence before Natasha reveals the results. Then...“Ninety-Nine. You’re officially a healthy woman.”
And with that, you’re finally free of the bed rest and able to walk the halls as a newly restored human being.
“I’m free,” you shout, tackling Natasha onto the bed and kissing her all over her face, completely overjoyed. “Natasha, I survived!”
You survived. It only took an exhausting week. When your fever went down a couple of days ago it spiked to 105° a bit after and you were sure you were going to suffocate in Natasha’s worry because of it. You had to go to the medical room...it was awful.
But now Nat laughs, and laughs, and then pulls you into a tight hug to stop all of the kissing. She seems to be unburdened and lighter now that she finally has the numbers she’s wanted.
“Loving you as much as I do is really just living in this constant state of worry and fear,” Natasha says when you’ve both settled down. “I do not like things being out of my control,” she admits, kissing the crown of your head. “Especially when it involves my heart.”
“Your heart,” you repeat, curious. “Is that what I am?”
“Ignoring the worry and fear part?” Natasha teases, quirking an eyebrow.
“We both know those feelings are accompanied with a multitude of good and beautiful emotions. I feel them too.”
Natasha smiles then, soft and gentle, and full of admiration. “Yes.”
You tilt your head. “Yes...what?”
“Yes, you are my heart. Or at least you feel like you are.”
At that, with a determination and seriousness that visibly shocks Natasha you say, “i’ll protect it. I’ll protect myself, and because you're mine also, I'll help protect you. Always.”
“Always,” Natasha agrees, her fingertips trailing across your cheek. “Thank you, Y/N.”
“Yeah,” you mumble, embarrassed suddenly, “of course.”
————
“Are...are you serious?”
Natasha scowls into her tea and says nothing in response. This is fucking hilarious.
Your lovely girlfriend doesn’t seem to think so because the second she sees your face struggling not to laugh she begins glaring at you. “Don’t,” Nat warns. “Don’t you fucking dare—”
“I seem to recall you saying, and I quote, ‘my immune system is stronger than yours.’” You grin. “Oh how ironic this is.”
“I’m not sick—”
“Aw, but baby, the amount of tissues on the floor seem to be saying otherwise,” you gesture towards the growing pile, feeling absolutely no sympathy until Natasha glances at the pile with a sigh of defeat. She looks so small and sad covered in her pile of blankets...it simply won’t do. “Don’t fret, my love. I will take care of you, just as you took care of me,” you assure her, leaning down to kiss her forehead.
“First things first,” you tilt her chin up, “i’ll get Wanda to make you some soup so you can take some medicine.”
“I hate the world,” Natasha grumbles, mumbling some curses in russian.
“I love you, too.”
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gisachi · 4 years ago
Text
Better late than never?? Supposed to post on the day itself but of course I couldn’t. This is my rushed contribution to the prompt: domestic mixed with black knight&princess.
ShinRan Week Day 6
Prompt: Domestic (+ Black Knight&Princess)
Words: ~2.5k
.
.
“Not just once, but twice! Who was it that saved my life again? Oh, unnamed knight with the black cloak, if you will grant me my wish… Please take off that dark mask and show me your true face!”
“If that is what, uh, the princess wishes, I shall show you my sorrow- sorrowful? - face under this moonlight. Oh wow this is cheesy.”
Ran leans on the arm of the couch, bound script covering her resigned face. If she had a hundred yen for every single complaint coming out of this detective’s mouth, she’d have enough to buy two entrance passes to Tropical Land for each day of the week, plus snacks and drinks.
“I went here because I thought you’d be a more immersive practice partner than ‘tou-san. You are worse.”
“I’m sorry, princess, if my mom being an actress ruined your expectations of me.”
“Oh, for sure. And otou-san doesn't destroy the scene by dropping nonsensical comments. And lie on the couch while reading the script. So he’s better by a lot.”
Shinichi props his body up, eyes rolling sarcastically before throwing a look at the lady on the edge. “To be fair, you came barging into my house so early on a Sunday. This is justified.”
“Shinichi, eleven in the morning isn’t early.”
With a stubborn grumble, the detective flops back into the cushions, script on his lap sliding to the floor. “ ’M tired Ran, long case last night, let me sleep.”
“Please, you’re my last option! School festival is in less than two weeks, and I can’t possibly ask Araide-sensei to spare time on a weekend outside of our rehearsal schedule when he’s busy working—”
The lightning speed Shinichi jolts upright causes Ran to cut herself short. “Araide-sensei is the cloaked knight?”
“Yes, didn’t I tell you?”
“You didn’t.”
“Really? I-” she pauses, delayed in taking in the curt iciness of his response when he was so apathetic five seconds ago. On anyone else it’s clear what that tone implies, but she’s never heard it on him.
“Do you have a beef with Araide-sensei?” she asks.
“A beef?”
Ran arches an eyebrow, skeptic. Shinichi meets her gaze, eyes slightly thinning before glancing away, cheeks crimson.
“I mean— Why Araide-sensei? Shouldn’t he be busy, I dunno, being a doctor, than being a fictional knight or something.”
“All the guys in our class were too shy and declined, so Sonoko asked Araide-sensei when he happened to come in for a checkup. He agreed so easily! Would you believe he’d taken a lot of lead roles in plays when he was a student?”
“And that was fifteen something years ago.”
“He’s also good at things like emphasizing lines and handling a woman!”
“Anyone can- What?!”
“Stop being a sourpuss Shinichi, especially when you’re the first to decline.”
He looks at her quizzically. “I did?”
“You don’t even remember?” Amidst the faint pink on her cheeks, disappointment etched on the way Ran’s lips curve to a small pout. “You were the first Sonoko asked... You were so quick to turn her down, she said.”
Astounded by the revelations docking in his brain all at once, Shinichi struggles to recall the conversations he had exchanged with Sonoko the past weeks. None stands out. If she had included Ran’s name in there, he would remember instantly. But Sonoko didn’t. Suddenly, the floodgates in his mind open.
If he finds out later on about the plot and the cast, he’ll definitely find a reason or two to sulk, if not object. Whether Ran is partnered with someone else or Araide-sensei doesn’t matter, for as long as it isn’t him. Him who she’s positive would outright reject her offer to act as a prince because why would he? In any case, god knows Sonoko omitted Ran’s name on purpose for this.
The sly woman has stirred something up, and she will proudly take the front row seat on his reaction she was so sure he’d make.
Not saying Sonoko’s predictions are right. This is just how she thinks. And he won’t react the way she expects he will. She is not right.
Not. Right.
Sonoko, yaro...
“Stand up, let’s do this.”
“Huh?”
“You want immersive? I’ll give you immersive.”
Left with little time to process as Shinichi pulls her by the hand, Ran drops her script on the floor. The sudden shift in character is unbelievable. How can someone so sleep-deprived turn into someone this enthused in a span of a breath?
“But first, let me…” He leaves the room, and Ran picks up her script, still quite lost. Whatever she said earlier must have triggered something, and she’s torn if she’ll ask once he returns but considers the possibility that he may break character. Not gonna risk that. He said he’ll give her an immersive practice, and it’s oddly unexpected, but she’ll take it. This is good. After all, she needs him as the knight.
Wants him as the knight.
“Sheesh, Ran, stop…” Shying away from her own maidenly thoughts, Ran flips to the designated page, scene, and line, rehearsing as she waits.
Some minutes later, Shinichi reappears, holding his script and something else. Of all things she would expect him to own, a blue fancy Columbina mask adorned with elegant silver and royal patterns wasn’t one of them.
“Mom has these things, okay,” he explains, putting it on. Ran isn’t sure if she wants to laugh or tease, but she does neither when she gets a glimpse of him with half of his face covered, and she catches her breath at the sight.
Standing against silk red curtains and brilliant glow of afternoon sunlight, he really does seem like a mysterious knight…
“Don’t laugh, idiot. After doing this for you. Wear this,” he says, and Ran zeroes in on the line of his lips because she has nowhere else to look at as he places a small barrette tiara on her hair. Doesn’t matter what he says, what they wear, even if they fail to match the daintiness of the mask and tiara. Shinichi with this on makes Shinichi as the knight much more vivid now. And Ran as the princess...
“Sorry!” She claps a hand on her warming cheek, pulls back a dumb smile she doesn’t notice she is wearing. “And I— I wasn’t laughing!”
“Still smiling creepily though.”
“I wasn’t being creepy! Geez. Anyway! Page-”
“Page 27, Scene 8, Line 10. Got it.”
After some short blocking instructions, they drop their scripts on the couch, and begin.
“Oh, unnamed knight with the black cloak, if you will grant me my wish… Please take off that dark mask and show me your true face!”
“If that is what the princess wishes, I shall show you my sorrowful face under this moonlight.”
Two steps forward and he removes the mask, and time slows down. She’s seen the same face a million times yet this time, her heart leaps like she’s laid eyes upon the most handsome face in the universe.
“Might—Might you be Spade?” She carries on, taking everything she can to maintain composure. “Long ago, you were banned from this land by my father… but now you’ve become the prince of Trump Kingdom...”
It’s nerve wracking, the way he’s strikingly still, eyes laden on her, either waiting for her next lines or admiring how beautiful she is with the tiara, she isn’t quite sure. The mask is gone, but he isn’t breaking character. Meanwhile, she’s trying her darned best to stay as Princess Heart of Bridge Kingdom.
“If you have… not forgotten about our childhood promise, then please…”
A nervous lump forms in her throat as she wraps her arms around his shoulders, and his hands find her waist, and she nearly gasps but holds it in because right now, she’s Princess Heart, not Mouri Ran asking this of Kudou Shinichi. “Please, show me on these lips.”
“As my princess so desires...”
It should be ‘the’, not ‘my.’ And there’s supposed to be another line after that, but nothing stops him as he leans in ahead of time and her eyelids flutter to the erratic beat of her heart. It’s better to be partnered with Araide-sensei in this after all. He will not mess up his lines, and she will not lose her mind the way she’s losing it now.
Two parted lips are a pucker away when the doorbell chimes, making both jolt.
Ran is first to snap out of character, as if she hasn’t had the urge to earlier.
“That—That must be Sonoko. I forgot to tell you...  I invited her in.”
“Oh, great,” Shinichi says.
Forcing her limbs into working order, Ran disentangles slowly, drawing a distance. Shinichi glances at the mask in his hand, then at her, before tossing it to the couch and turning for the door. From the window, she watches him walk to the front gate, scratching the back of his head in an annoyed manner like she just woke him from sleep, but grumpier. She hasn’t seen him display much emotion on a Sunday noon the way she’s seeing him now.
Maybe I shouldn’t have bothered him, she sighs, her turn to slump onto the couch this time.
-
“As I was saying, the prod already scouted the finest material for the costumes, and I decided, pink suits Princess Heart— Hello? Are you listening?”
Ran nearly drops the knife she holds if not for her inhuman reflexes. “Of course! Princess Heart in pink! Yes.” Like nothing happened, she resumes slathering jam and butter on the toast she’s preparing for the three of them. She doesn’t need to look at her side to know Sonoko’s eyeing her from head to toe.
“What happened to her?” The woman turns to Shinichi who sits at the high stool by the kitchen island.
“Dunno,” he says, sounding as noncommittal as he probably appears. Her back is turned against him, but she can see his face, and god why is she blushing?
“I just helped her rehearse. For the play,” he adds.
“Oh?” Sonoko’s brow perks up her forehead, hair whipping as she turns between her and the boy across them. “Did you?”
“Yup. Page 27.”
The dramatic gasp that tears from their friend’s throat is exactly the kind of gasp they expected; even so, Ran still flinches as Shinichi’s stool rakes the floor. “You kissed and I didn’t see?!”
“Hah?!”
“No!”
The two yelp in unison.
“That’s sly! You have to do it again! I’ll judge.”
“Excuse you! It didn’t happen, what you’re thinking!”
“Sonokooo!”
“Oh, shush, Ran, this is good practice. Good practice.”
“But—”
“Relax, rehearsal is rehearsal! In the actual play, once it’s Araide-sensei, he’ll do a better job—”
“I’m going to the toilet,” Shinichi gets off the stool, jaw stiff, out of the kitchen.
“—with a hug than a kiss. Right?” Sonoko ends, once Shinichi is out of the room.
“What?” Ran’s expression is inscrutable as she faces Sonoko completely, the flush across her face befitting embarrassment or ire. “You’re losing me here!”
“Oh, you’re not going to kiss, Ran. The lights will dim before your lips touch.”
“Then why—” she puts down the bread and walks in haste to the island to flip through the script, “Wh— That’s not in here!”
“Sonoko-sama hereby deems the script revised now that we have Araide-sensei.”
“Eh...?!” Ran cannot explain the play of her reactions. On one hand, a cloud is cleared from her mind, having to worry no more about doing something she has no experience with in front of watchful eyes. On the other, bunch of half-formed thoughts whirl through her mind that goes, Shinichi and I almost kissed for nothing, for nothing we almost k-kissed, an almost kiss with Shinichi, almost—
“That won’t do! I mean— That’s so not you! T-To choose a hug over a...”
“Duh, Ran! Even if it’s just a play, I won’t enable a kiss scene between a student and a staff member. We can fake the kiss. That, or switch to hug. Or better yet, change the male lead.”
“Change the male lead? In two weeks? Who will agree?!”
“Easy.” Just in time, Shinichi returns, hands in pocket and long face worn all the way to the stool.  “I know someone who will.”
-
‘Once it’s Araide-sensei, he’ll do a better job…’ What? Kissing Ran? Shinichi wants to puke. Sonoko needs to think things through. If this is part of her plan, it’s unacceptable, it sucks.
There’s no way, no way anyone can do a better job kissing Ran than…
“Aaaargh, what are you thinking!” He ruffles his hair in dismay, curses here and there. He only wanted to help Ran yet he almost went for it. Not as Spade but as himself. The audacity. It’s part of the script, sure, but—
If it is part of the script, then have Ran and Araide-sensei rehearsed it before?
“That’s it,” Shinichi huffs, storming out of the bathroom. If this is the kind of reaction Sonoko wants from him, she’s in for a show. Not just a show but a lifetime of curses and mental stabs. For her to go this far is unbelievable. Did Ran even agree to that? Will such a scene really happen in the play? No matter how despicable Sonoko’s methods are, he has faith she respects Ran’s preference as the female lead. No offense against Araide-sensei, but he cannot take Ran’s first kiss, whether as Spade or not.
That is not to say he knows Ran’s preference, especially when it comes to a first kiss, but… it’s not... Araide-sensei... is it?!
He cannot ascertain, not when Ran did nothing when they were about to kiss…
Okay, halt there, self. I said immersive. That’s immersive. She was acting.
All was but an act. She’s a great actress. I suck. No need to make this a big deal.
Shinichi is a pitiful mess once he’s back in the kitchen.
“My offer still stands, you know.” Sonoko sits beside him, munching a toast, while Ran is busy returning the jam in the cupboard, back against them.
“Your offer?”
Shinichi glances at Ran, then at Sonoko, with that feral grin on her lips and Shinichi does a bad job looking pissed, and it’s maddening because he is pissed, just not obvious with the blush forming across his cheek.
Reprimanding Sonoko is what he intends to do. For doing him dirty, him and Ran dirty, for dragging a staff to be the male lead, for imploring Ran to give her first kiss she’s probably saving in a different setting. All invalid reasons, when he cared less about the play before. He’s a full-time idiot, and Sonoko knows it clearly that’s why she’s offering the role again. He doesn’t want to fall into her trap, the same way he doesn’t want anyone else to be Spade when Princess Heart is Ran.
But Ran looks over her shoulder and they accidentally lock eyes, and pink blooms across her cheeks before she turns around, and suddenly the words that leave his mouth completely betray the thought process he underwent in the bathroom.
“If Ran agrees, yeah,” he says.
.
.
103 notes · View notes
earliebirb · 4 years ago
Text
nosedive
steve/tony, fluff, (newly) established relationship, 3250 words
Tony stares absentmindedly out the airplane window as he puts his phone up to his ear, watching people run back and forth, performing last-minute engine checks. Some of the guys look sweaty and out of breath.
From the comfort of the air-conditioned Stark Industries private jet, he feels a slight twinge of sympathy for the people having to suffer in the humid summer heat.
He loosens his tie and sinks deeply into his seat, closing his eyes with a massive yawn as he listens to the ringing tone. He hadn’t been able to sleep very well throughout his five-day stay in Tokyo, too anxious about the contract to rest properly. 
The ringing tone goes on for a few more seconds before ending with a click, replaced by an achingly familiar voice greeting him in his ear. 
“Hello?” 
Tony’s eyes spring open. Outside, an aircraft marshaller walks by, speaking rapidly into his walkie-talkie.
“I had a blueberry muffin for lunch today. One single blueberry muffin.”
“...What?”
“It didn’t even taste that good. I couldn’t finish it. Too dry.”
“Tony, that’s not good. Is that all you had for lunch? You should really eat—”
“The meeting went well, by the way. Mr. Watanabe finally signed the contract, everything went as planned. My ride to the airport, however…”
“I told you things would go smoothly, you had nothing to worry about. You’re a brilliant negotiator—”
“The traffic? Fuck. I had to keep shifting in my seat to avoid pins and needles.”
“That sounds awful, are your legs okay—”
“Did you know that Tokyo is number nineteen on the list of cities with the worst traffic congestion in the world? I know that, because I looked it up on the way to the airport. But boy, did it feel like it deserved the number one spot. I think I lost feeling in my ass.”
“I did not know that. And, uh, is your ass okay—”
“Thank God for my private jet. These plush seats are the best things I’ve ever spent my money on.”
“That’s objectively not true, and you know it—”
“Then again, I think these seats in particular were Pepper’s choice? We remodeled the airplane’s interior like… two years ago. I couldn’t be bothered to meet with the airplane seat people and I just told her to pick whichever looked best. I had much more important things to tend to, like sewing up the holes in JARVIS’s Christmas stocking.”
“I am concerned about how you sort your list of priorities—”
“Hm, that’s right. I think it was around two, three weeks before Christmas and I didn’t want JARVIS to be upset about the whole stocking thing, you know?”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t have—”
“Also, you’re right, the single blueberry muffin was a bad idea because now my stomach won’t shut up. So I’ve ordered some pasta for my in-flight meal. Robbie’s making it, you’ve met Robbie—”
“I’ve met Robbie, yes, he’s—”
“Larry’s replacement after he resigned. Gotta say, I was sad to see Larry go. Guy worked for me for seven years. But then there was that thing with his grandma, and he had to leave, so… But! Robbie makes a mean carbonara, maybe even better than Larry, don’t tell Larry I said that—”
“I don’t even know Larry like that, how would I—”
“Mr. Stark, we’re ready to go.” The pilot—Paul—emerges from the cockpit, staring at him in anticipation.
Tony nods and makes a few rapid gestures with his free hand that he supposes Paul is only able to interpret perfectly after years and years of working for Tony. The gestures roughly translate to something like “Copy, I hear you, just let me wrap this up and then I’ll let you know when I’m done. Capiche?”
Paul—bless him—just gives him a curt nod and retreats back into the cockpit. 
“Anyway,” Tony takes a deep breath and puffs his cheeks out with the exertion of his exhale, “I called because… I got a feeling, Steve.”
“A… feeling?”
“Just— A gut feeling. A feeling in your gut. Inside of me. Like a hunch?”
“Okay,” Steve says patiently, his voice low and warm, “what are you feeling?”
“I… got a bad feeling. Today. A few hours ago. The feeling came to me when I was sitting in traffic, and I just— I feel like something bad’s gonna happen today, Steve. I can feel it in the air. In my heart. In my gut. In my joints.”
“Your joints? Like… the feeling old people get when it’s about to rain?”
“Okay, maybe not in my joints. Also, are you calling me old, grandpa?”
“I did not, you told me you felt something in your—”
“Anyway, so yeah. Where was I? Oh, right. Feeling. Bad feeling. Like, like, I don’t know, something bad’s gonna happen. Like an accident. Like a plane crash.”
“God, please don’t say that. You’re scaring me, Tony.”
“And I guess, I just called because I… I feel like I need to do this before the plane crashes and I die a violent and fiery death.”
“Nothing bad’s going to happen, Tony—”
“Like, if I didn’t do this today, maybe I’d never get to do it, you know? And, uh, okay, I’ve honestly been ranting to stall for time, but the longer I keep it in the more nauseous I feel, so maybe I’m just gonna do it now so I can die in peace—”
“Do what? And stop saying that—”
“Look, I’m trying to be brave and honest here and— Wait, actually? Maybe I’m being a coward because if the plane actually does go down, I won’t have to face the consequences of my actions, so I guess I’m just going to say fuck it, and say that I love you.”
“The plane is not going to— Wait, what?”
“I, uh. Love you. I’ve known it for a while now. And, uh, I know we’ve only been dating for like, a week, but—” Tony blinks. They’ve only been dating for a week. 
“...Fuck.” Tony can feel his own pulse starting to race. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Tony?”
They’ve only been dating for a week. What is he doing? What the hell is wrong with him? Normal people don’t do this. 
“Fuck. Shit, I mean— Uh, I’m sorry. That was super weird, huh?” Tony laughs nervously. He closes his eyes, gritting his teeth and cursing his stupid brain. Of course it’s weird. He always gets too attached to people way too quickly. No wonder Pepper was his only long term relationship. She was the only person who could put up with him—everyone else just got weirded out. “Uh, see you tomorrow? Or not. Fuck, sorry, I’m just gonna hang up before this gets—”
“Tony, wait.”
“...Yeah?” Tony says, hyper-aware of how breathless he sounds. His heartbeat is ringing in his ears. Everything is going to be fine. Right? Right. The worst thing Steve could do is… break up with him.
Oh, God, that is the worst case scenario. He really should’ve just kept his stupid mouth shut. 
“Tony, are you freaking out? I feel like I can hear you freaking out from all the way over here.”
“No, I’m not, of course I’m not. Who says I’m freaking out? You have no proof. I am calm, I’m calm as a clam, is that the saying? Did I get it right? Or was it happy— Anyway, I am absolutely calm, I’m the calmest I could possibly be. Any calmer and I’d be asleep. I’m—”
“Tony. Breathe.”
Tony forces himself to drag in a slow breath as he grips the arm of his seat with his free hand, focusing on the soothing hum of the airplane’s engine.
“Look, Tony, I—”
“No, listen. I’m sorry I jumped the gun, I hope I haven’t weirded you out or anything. You really, really don’t have to say it back to me. I mean it.”
“Tony—”
“No, in fact— Please don’t say anything. It’s fine. Let’s just pretend this never happened, okay?”
“But—”
“Drop it, Steve. Please?” Tony pleads. Clearly, his brain hadn’t been firing on all cylinders. That is the only reason that could explain his temporary lapse of judgment. “Look, I feel like talking about it more right now is going to send me spiraling into a panic attack.”
“...Okay. Fine.”
“Thank you. Uh, I’ll see you when I get home. If I get home. If the plane doesn’t crash. Haha.”
“Would you please stop saying that? It’s not funny.”
Tony latches onto the change in topic like a lifeline. “It is objectively true, you know. In order for me to be able to see you tomorrow, the plane has to land safely, and unfortunately, some things are just beyond my control. Like, who’s to say the plane won’t explode mid-air and—”
“The plane is going to land safely and you’re going to come back home to me in one piece. This is non-negotiable, Tony. You hear me?” Steve demands, his voice all hard authority and no-nonsense, like there will be Consequences should Tony fail to comply. 
As if he could ensure Tony’s safety with the force of his willpower alone. 
Come back home to me. 
That sounds good. Really good. Tony closes his eyes and pictures Steve’s baby blues in his mind’s eye. Warmth flowers in his chest.
“I hear you.”
“Great.”
“Awesome. I, uh, I gotta go now.”
“Okay. See you tomorrow.”
“See you.”
Tony hangs up and lets Paul know that he is done with his phone call. The jittery feeling left over from his call with Steve refuses to leave him, however, so he pulls up the drawing application on his phone and begins sketching something just to give his brain something else to fixate on.
He tends to lose track of time when he is hyperfocused on a project, so he isn’t exactly surprised that the next time he becomes aware of his surroundings, the plane is already well up in the air, his sketch of what looks like a flying coffee pot is almost finished, and Robbie is placing a plate of spaghetti carbonara on the table in front of him. 
“Spaghetti carbonara. With extra cheese.”
Tony’s mouth waters as he eyes the mountain of grated Pecorino Romano sitting atop the pasta. He sighs dreamily and smiles up at Robbie.
“You’re a lifesaver.”
“Enjoy, Boss.” Robbie grins and slips back into the kitchen.
He only realizes just how truly famished he is after taking his first bite, and proceeds to finish the rest of his meal with gusto. Afterward, he spends the majority of the remaining flight time sleeping, the result of post-carbonara food coma and his sleep-deprivation finally catching up to him. 
It���s well past two in the morning when Tony finally makes it to his floor in the Tower, which is why he is surprised to see Steve sitting on his couch, one of Tony’s fantasy novels open in hand. 
“Steve, what are you doing here?”
Steve’s head snaps up at the sound of his voice. Tony frowns. “Actually, why are you awake at all?” He is usually an early sleeper, unless—
“Nightmare?” Tony gives him a sympathetic smile. It wouldn’t be the first time. In the early days of their friendship, Tony and Steve would sit together in the living room whenever they had trouble sleeping, talking to each other until the sun came up.
Steve shakes his head, closing the book with his eyes still trained on Tony. “No, I was just… waiting for you.” Tony blinks. 
“It’s…” Tony glances at his watch. “Half past two. In the morning.”
“I know, I just…” Steve stands up, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He ambles over before coming to a stop right in front of Tony. “I wanted to see you.”
Tony stares at him uncomprehendingly. “You’ll see me later anyway.”
“I couldn’t wait any longer. I didn’t want to go to sleep without seeing you first,” Steve says, low and earnest. His gaze wanders around Tony’s face, as if he were cataloguing each and every facial feature and trying to locate any changes he might’ve missed during his absence.
“Oh.”
Steve steps closer, arms snaking around Tony’s waist and pulling him close. His next words are whispered against Tony’s shoulder.
“I knew you’d make it home safely.”
“Uh, yeah.”
“You were wrong.”
“I was… wrong.” Tony swallows. “Uh, turns out the bad feeling completely disappeared after I woke up from my nap on the plane, so I suspect that perhaps the bad feeling I got was due to my severe hunger and sleep deprivation. I mean, I’ve heard about hallucinations caused by hunger or exhaustion, but this was—” 
Steve presses a soft kiss to the column of Tony’s neck, effectively cutting off Tony’s ramblings.
“Tony,” Steve whispers against his skin.
“Yeah?” Tony squeaks.
“Please don’t call me before a flight and say that you think the plane is going to crash, ever again.”
“Right. Noted. I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted,” Steve says, pulling away slightly and loosening his hold around Tony.
Tony allows himself to relax, letting out a quiet sigh. This thing with Steve is so new and delicate that every single physical contact still sends his heart fluttering, butterflies going crazy in his stomach.
Which makes, in retrospect, his abrupt love confession—as truthful as it was—that much more insane. God, Stark. Never do that again.
Except, it turns out that Steve only pulled away to slide his hands down the back of Tony’s thighs, wrapping his hands around them, and then lifting him up without warning.
Tony yelps, and in his alarm, promptly locks his ankles around Steve’s waist. When Steve begins moving, Tony quickly wraps his arms around Steve, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder.
“Uh, Steve?”
“Hm?” Steve says, calm and nonchalant, as he begins walking away from the elevator. 
“Um— Wait— My suitcase—”
“Leave it. It’ll still be there in the morning.”
Tony blinks, staring dumbfoundedly at his lonely suitcase, abandoned by the elevator. It becomes smaller and smaller with every step Steve takes. 
“Where are we going?”
“Your bedroom.”
“Why are you carrying me there?”
“Because I want to.”
“You know it’ll be faster if you just let me walk, right?”
“Maybe. But you won’t be in my arms.”
“Um.”
“Bear with me, will you? I missed you.”
“I, uh, missed you too.”
Steve hums, satisfied. Tony lets himself settle more comfortably in Steve’s arms.
When Steve has successfully carried him to his bedroom, Tony fully expects Steve to deposit him on the bed. 
That is not, in fact, what happens. 
Instead, Steve turns around and begins walking backwards towards the bed before sitting down on it. Tony, still seated on his lap, swallows and pulls back slightly to look at Steve. 
“Look, Steve, as much as I’ve missed you, I’m kind of tired right now. I mean, don’t get me wrong. This whole carrying thing? Great. Very romantic. Ten out of ten. But I’m just not in the mood for sex, you know? Like, I’m not even sure I would be able to get it up if—”
“We’re not going to have sex.”
Tony blinks.
“We’re not?”
“We’re not. I’m just here to tuck you in.”
“Oh.”
Steve reaches up and begins undoing his tie. After setting it aside on the bed, he begins to unbutton Tony’s shirt. He takes his time, one button at a time.
“So…” Steve begins with a deep breath as he unbuttons the final button. “Did you mean, uh, what you said to me? On the phone?”
Tony closes his eyes, feels his own cheeks heating up. “Steve—”
“I’m sorry, Tony, I know you told me to drop it. But— I feel like if you did mean what you said, I owe it to you to… set the records straight.” When Tony opens his eyes again, Steve is looking up at him, blue eyes solemn.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… We have only been together for a week. Well, eight days. In fact, we’ve only been on one date. And it was interrupted. By giant lizards.” Steve chuckles incredulously. 
Tony remembers that day very well. They were in the middle of dessert at Tony’s favorite Italian place when they received the call to assemble—something about giant lizards wreaking havoc in Central Park.
The lizards had green, gunky blood that got into the nooks and crannies of the suit. It had taken forever to clean.
“But Tony…” Steve gathers the material of Tony’s unbuttoned shirt in both of his fists, pulling him closer until their noses are only inches apart.
The second their eyes meet, Steve smiles the sweet, lopsided smile that never fails to make Tony’s stomach flip.
“I need you to know that… I didn’t have to date you to know that I loved you. I figured that a long time ago.”
Tony stills, breath frozen in his lungs.
“I guess, what I’m saying is… I love you too. I’ve loved you for a very long time, Tony. Even way before—” Steve breaks eye contact, looks down as he clears his throat. When he speaks again, his voice is tight. “Way before we got together. I’m talking… years before.”
Tony still finds it hard to breathe. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Steve says, the word more breath than sound. He meets Tony’s dazed gaze. “So you don’t have to worry about… jumping the gun. Not with me. I’m in it for the long haul.”
“...Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Good.” Tony feels a lightness growing inside of him, spreading outwards to his extremities.
“Good.” Steve smiles, warm and impossibly fond.
“...Glad we’re on the same page.” Tony’s gaze drops down to Steve’s lips.
“We are.” Steve inches closer, nose brushing Tony’s. He then tilts his head ever so slightly and takes Tony’s lower lip between his, kissing him so tenderly Tony’s heart feels like it’s about to burst with it.
Steve’s warm hands slide up Tony’s naked back under his open shirt, sending goosebumps breaking across his skin. Tony buries his hands in Steve’s hair and relishes the feeling of the soft strands caught between his fingers. They stay caught up in each other for a few moments, capturing and releasing each other’s lips until the need for breath becomes too unbearable.
They break apart eventually, accompanied by soft chuckles. Steve smiles up at him, lips slick and cherry red, courtesy of Tony. He reaches up to caress Tony’s right eyebrow with the pad of his thumb, fleeting and affectionate.
“Get some rest, okay? You must be really tired. I should probably go to bed, too.”
Tony looks down at his lap, clearing his throat. “Uh, I know that we haven’t done this before, but…”
Steve waits patiently for Tony to gather his thoughts, hands stroking up and down Tony’s sides.
“Do you want to stay with me tonight?” Tony finds the courage to meet Steve’s eyes, holding his breath.
Steve’s blue eyes are gazing at him intently, looking at him like he’s the only person in the world worth his sole, undivided attention.
Tony swallows. “No sex. Just to sleep. If you—”
“Yes.”
“Yeah?”
“I would like that very much.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Good.” Tony feels his own lips slowly curve up into a smile, wide and unbridled. 
“Good.” Steve nods, lips twitching, his eyes never leaving Tony’s. 
Tony grins, feeling near giddy with delight. “Glad we’re on the same page.”
“We are, sweetheart.” Steve looks up at him, blue eyes fond and smile radiant. “We definitely are.”
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miracleonice87 · 4 years ago
Note
anything with matty tkachuk! but maybe a fluffy one where it’s your first season living together after being long distance for awhile and it’s like the moments you guys go through? first fight, first night together, new game day rituals, etc.
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a/n: the last of the requests for the moment! I’ll probably open them back up soon. here’s a piece with a few vignettes referred to in the request. enjoy! 
warnings: partners arguing, brief mention of sex
_____
Firsts
first night…
“You’re going to throw your back out.”
Matthew scoffed. “You think you’re so heavy but you weigh next to nothing,” he insisted, scooping his arm beneath the crooks of your knees, the other steady beneath your underarms as he lifted you off the ground.
You chuckled, covering your face with your hand shyly.
“Matthew,” you whined. He shook his head.
“Nope, we’re doing it,” he told you, walking toward the front door. “You’re finally moving in with me. We’re doing the cheesy ‘carry you over the threshold’ thing.”
You couldn’t argue with that. Smiling, you looped your arms around his neck and resigned to his resolve. A few yards more, and Matthew was kicking open the door with one foot.
As he stepped into the house, he let out an adorable “ta daaa!” and beamed at you.
“Welcome home, princess,” he said sweetly. You leaned in to kiss him and pinched gently at his cheek.
“Thank you, my love,” you said. Matthew put you down carefully and closed the door behind him. As you stepped forward into the living room — your living room — you spotted not only a gorgeous bouquet of blush pink roses, but also an overflowing gift basket filled with an array of your favorite items. The jasmine candles you always burned in your own apartment, the lavender tea you drank each night before bed, your favorite shampoo and conditioner, the shower gel you always stocked up on at your favorite St. Louis boutique — all of it, and more, was tucked inside.
“Baby…” you began breathlessly, running your hand along the perimeter of the wicker. “What did you do?”
Matthew approached from behind with a smile, wrapping his arms around your middle and burying a kiss in your hair.
“I just wanted you to have some things that’ll hopefully make you feel at home here,” he said somberly. “And I gotta admit, Taryn helped me track down the stuff from St. Louis,” he added with a chuckle.
You turned in his hold to face him, and he noted the glistening in your green eyes as he reached for your face.
“You are so sweet. Thank you, baby,” you said, pressing your lips against his. When you parted, Matthew noticed the way your bright smile had faded. He knew why.
As thrilled as you were to be moving in with Matthew at last after a full year of dating long distance, you were still anxious leaving your hometown of St. Louis. You couldn’t wait to start your life in Calgary with Matthew, but living so far from your family and childhood friends had you battling homesickness from the second you took off from Lambert. The reality had caused you to break down on the plane and was bringing tears to your eyes once more.
“You okay?” Matthew asked kindly, kissing your forehead repeatedly. You held his wrists and nodded.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you said.
“I know it’s not gonna be easy, sweetheart,” Matthew said, pulling you closer. “But your parents are welcome here anytime, and you can go visit them literally whenever you want. And you know my parents are gonna be up here way more now that you’re here. We all know they like you better than me,” he told you, pulling a giggle from you as you looked up at him with a smirk.
“There’s a smile,” he said. You nodded, sniffling.
“Trust me, Matthew, I’m so happy to be here with you,” you assured him. “This is where I’ve wanted to be for so long, and you’re so gracious for having me here. And I can’t believe how thoughtful these gifts were. The excitement I feel to start my life with you outweighs any sadness I’ll feel. Trust me on that.”
Matthew grinned, and you couldn’t help but reflect his joy in your own expression.
“I love you, princess,” he said, hugging you tight. “Welcome home.”
“I love you, too, Matthew,” you said against his shoulder.
_____
first fight…
It had taken a few weeks, but you soon settled into your new life in Calgary with little trouble. Spending every day with Matthew felt like a dream — you were both giddy when you hopped into bed together each night and woke up next to each other the following morning.
As Matthew began training camp, you found your own routine with your work as a freelance graphic designer. You only put in about twenty to thirty hours per week, which Matthew knew you did because you wanted to, not because you felt you needed to. He reminded you every so often that you could quit at any point if you no longer felt the need to work — though you told him not to hold his breath.
Matthew refused to let go of his housekeeper, as he wanted to save you from doing all of the chores, though you did insist on taking over the bulk of the household duties because you actually found them enjoyable — scheduling, grocery shopping, meal planning, cooking, laundry, and paying bills.
It was that last little item that caused the first tiff between you and Matthew since you had moved in with him — in fact, the first tiff the two of you had had in months.
One afternoon, after Matthew returned home from practice, he kissed your cheek and grabbed a glass of water before sitting down at the kitchen table to chat with you, as he did almost every day. As you worked on a logo design for a client, Matthew sat scrolling through his phone; then, eyebrows furrowing, he paused.
“Hey, babe?” he began. You acknowledged him with a distracted “hmm?” without looking away from your screen.
“It’s no big deal if so,” Matthew spoke, “but did you forget to pay the water bill this month? And maybe… maybe the electric bill, too? I don’t see that they’ve been deducted from my account yet, so I just wanna make sure they’re not late.”
Heat crept up your neck and chest as you slowly closed your laptop, pursing your lips to the side. When you didn’t respond right away, Matthew looked at you curiously.
You took a deep breath and pulled your legs underneath you, curling up and wishing you could hide from this altogether.
“Don’t be mad…” you said softly.
Not a good start, Matthew thought to himself. He clicked his phone to lock it and set it aside, folding his arms on the table.
“Babe…” he said, a warning in the single word.
You picked nervously at the seam of your leggings. “Okay. I kind of…” you cleared your throat, stalling. “I kind of paid those two out of my own account. But just those two. I swear.”
Matthew rolled his eyes, pushing himself out of his seat as he muttered, “oh, my god.”
Yep, he was pissed.
After pacing for a few moments, Matthew crossed his arms against his chest and faced you.
“I thought we talked about this,” he said, clearly frustrated.
You dropped your head. “I-I know…” you said timidly. “We did. I just-“
“And you paid them yourself anyway? Despite having already discussed it?” he questioned, his volume rising.
With lightly shaking hands, you tucked some hair behind one ear and swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze, which was sure to be intense.
“Yes,” was all you could manage.
Matthew tossed his baseball cap on the table and sighed loudly, resuming his pacing across the hardwood.
“Baby, we can’t start out like this,” he said firmly. “I didn’t ask you to come live with me so we could split the cost of living like you’re some random roommate of mine. I asked you to move in because I want to share my life with you — I wanna share everything with you. I make more money than I’ll ever be able to spend, and you should not be spending your own money to pay our bills.”
As he spoke, you chewed anxiously on the inside of your cheek. When he paused, he sighed once more.
“Can you look at me, please?” he requested.
With a shaky inhale, you did as he asked, and his gaze softened the moment he saw the unease on your face.
“What’s goin’ on here, baby?” Matthew asked. “You’ve gotta talk to me. We’re partners.”
You pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt down to cover your closed fists as you considered how even to answer him. Finally, you decided on a simple response.
“I feel like a mooch,” you said quietly, your eyes traveling downward again.
Out of your frame of vision, Matthew’s face fell. He felt sick at what he had just heard. He crossed the room swiftly, easily pulling out your chair and turning it to face him. He knelt before you and gathered your hands in his own.
“Princess… hey,” he said gently as he reached to smooth his hand over your hair. “Look at me.” This time, it wasn’t a question.
You forced yourself to look at him, finding immediate comfort in the tender way he was now looking at you as compared to before. He squeezed your thighs soothingly as he spoke again.
“You are anything but a mooch,” he said with conviction. “You are my girlfriend, who I love — who I’m obsessed with. You’re the person I want to spend my life with. I wanna take care of you in every way I possibly can, including financially. You know what I mean?”
You nodded slowly, unable to think of a convincing argument against him.
“I don’t want to fight about this with you,” Matthew continued, shaking his head. “We shouldn’t be fighting about money. Listen, if you want to spend your money on things that are only yours, that’s fine. Even though I really wish you wouldn’t even do that.” He muttered the last part and you offered the tiniest smile. “I don’t want you footing our bills, babe. You don’t need to worry about that. Okay? I want you to let me take care of all of that. Please?”
You nodded slowly. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t want to go behind your back. I just felt like I wanted to contribute.”
Matthew gave you a disbelieving expression. “Contribute? Babe, you contribute so much. You’ve barely been here a month and shit around here is more organized than it’s ever been. You’ve already got this place running like a well-oiled machine,” he told you as you breathed a chuckle. “You take care of me in countless ways. Let me handle the money. That’s the easy part.”
You let your head roll back with a sigh, knowing that Matthew was being the logical one in this instance. “Okay,” you agreed as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I will. I’m sorry.”
Matthew shook his head, kissing the tip of your nose and then your lips. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “Let’s just go upstairs and have make-up sex since this was our first fight in forever.”
You threw your head back in laughter. “You are something else,” you told your boyfriend, who was already picking you up out of your chair and toting you upstairs.
_____
first game…
As you stood in your closet selecting an outfit for Matthew’s home opener, you felt a familiar pair of arms snake around your waist and a set of lips you knew well come to rest on your cheekbone. A grin overtook your face.
“Good morning, sunshine,” you teased as Matthew relentlessly planted kisses on your skin. “How was your nap? I didn’t wake you, did I?”
You turned his direction, and Matthew shook his head. You smoothed the short curls atop his head and he nearly purred, making you laugh.
“My nap was good,” he said with a yawn. “And you’re gonna make me fall asleep again if you keep doing that.”
You snickered, kissing his jaw, before you turned back around and reached for a couple articles of hanging clothing.
“Once you pick what you’re wearing, can you make me a cup of coffee?” Matthew asked from behind.
Your brows pulled together, puzzled, and you cocked your head as you turned back toward him.
“Are you really that helpless?” you said in your best teasing tone.
Matthew rolled his eyes lightheartedly and said, “No, I can make my own, but I don’t want to. We’ve got a good thing going.”
You shook your head, amused. “Okay, I’m lost,” you told him, hanging your outfit on the back of the closet door to steam later. “What are you talking about?”
Matthew followed you out of the closet and toward the hall.
“You made me my coffee before the last three preseason games at home, remember? And we won them all,” he said matter-of-factly. “So yeah, if you don’t mind, we’re gonna keep that going. Unless you wanna be the reason we lose…”
“No!” you exclaimed immediately. Matthew laughed — he knew that would do the trick, as you were nearly as superstitious as he. “I’m going now,” you said. As you turned to descend the stairs, you glanced back at him, batting your lashes. “Cream and sugar?” you asked sweetly. 
Matthew laughed hysterically and tickled your sides as he followed you down to the kitchen, thankful once more that you were here to share not only his home with him, but his life. 
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