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mellowsaturns · 1 year ago

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in losing grip, on sinking ships (you showed up just in time)

BUCKY BARNES X FEM!READER

summary: when the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.

warnings: heavy angst, one sided enemies-to-lovers-ish, hydra!assassin!reader, hurt/comfort, happy ending, brainwashing, trauma, guns & knives, fighting, implied kidnapping of reader when young, all the feels, misunderstandings, poor attempt at writing action

wc: 4.7k

a/n: sorry it’s been forever but i hope my fellow buckyluvrs are still here <3 i actually wrote this a long time ago but never got around to editing until recently so i guess you can say this is (from the vault) ? inspired by the idea: what-if there was another winter soldier and bucky finds himself in steve’s position this time trying to get you back to him. anyways, i hope you enjoy this one :)

Bucky’s life was a never ending montage of gunfire and bloodshed. It didn’t matter if he was under the clutches of someone else, he still lived through the wars—the lingering smell of smoke and tang of metallic forever ingrained in his senses.

And just when he thought it was finally over—a glimmer of peace at last—it comes and steals that dream away from him.

Like deja-vu, he’s looking at faces that were once responsible for his pain.

On the screen, three Hydra officers stare back at him. All faces identified by Tony’s system. Alive. Last seen in the outskirts of some small country in Europe. Irrelevant low ranking officials that had managed to survive the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D and have been hiding and secretly continuing Hydra’s mission underground ever since. Low officials or not, it was one too many.

Bucky freezes in his spot when Tony swipes the screen. The billionaire goes on a rant saying this particular face cannot be identified, which was according to Tony, bullshit because his face recognition system is the best in the world. The rest of the team is arguing and flipping through countless files and internet archives. But Bucky knows. He knows that face and those haunting eyes that he still sees in his dreams.

“Buck,” a voice calls out. “You know her, don’t you?”

He looks up at Steve from his spot, his best friend's face worried and all knowing.

One thing about Hydra was that they were always prepared. They had backups and multiple plans ready, or else how would two heads take its place when one was cut off? Unfortunately for the world, Hydra managed to make another deadly assassin, one whose work was so discreet and nimble that even intelligence didn't know they existed.

You were a ghost story that lived in the shadows of the Winter Soldier. You were another one of Hydra’s prize possessions—less known, but just as deadly.

With Steve’s comment, all eyes are now on Bucky. A pregnant pause fills the air and he gulps before he confesses, “I wasn’t the only one.”

The room becomes tense. The war that they thought was over suddenly looms over like an unpredicted oncoming storm. “Jesus Christ, Barnes. You couldn’t have informed us about her earlier?” says Tony.

“I thought,” he says, shifting his eyes onto the ground, “I thought she fell with S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Bucky couldn’t find you anywhere after he escaped their grasp. After he joined the Avengers, he tried once again secretly using Tony’s technology but it was to no avail—it always ended up being a dead end. And for that, he assumed Hydra had put you out of your misery the day they were caught.

But the face on the screen says otherwise. And suddenly, Bucky feels very guilty.

Steve clears his throat, “Well, they were picked up not too long ago heading north. If we leave now, we might be able to find them and stop them once and for all.”

Everyone looks at each other, debating on his proposal. “What the Captain said. Everybody, suit up. Quinjet leaves in ten,” says Tony.

On the jet, Bucky stares off into space but countless questions run through his mind.

Steve walks over and sits beside him. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks, voice quiet.

Bucky sighs, “I just… I thought she was gone.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”

He looks up, wondering if he should tell Steve the truth. That he’s not brooding about the fact that he concealed you to them. After a moment, Bucky speaks up. “When we get there, let me handle her. Please.”

Steve didn’t know what kind of history Bucky had with you. But judging from the look his best-friend is giving, it’s more than what Steve could understand or even comprehend but he trusts Bucky and so, he gives him a nod. “She’s all yours.”

After scouting the area and tracing the location to a very hidden underground warehouse in the middle of nowhere, they split up. The warehouse was dark and dusty, surely abandoned, but Bucky knew better—it was their facade behind the most sinister of activities. Through the comms, Natasha announces that she has already taken care of all the troops in the West wing. Moments later, Sam reports that he has eliminated one of the Hydra officers. They wouldn’t last long. Hydra didn’t have much resources or time to rebuild—their current empire was weak, they were no match for the Avengers this time.

The only person Bucky’s truly worried about is you. The fact that he trained you, made you into what you were today already gave him the chills. He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore, but he was certain that you were still in that killer mindset that Hydra forced upon you.

Step by step, Bucky walks through the quiet hallway, the echoes of his footsteps the only noise. It’s cold here, he notices, which gives him flashbacks to those days in his dirty cell and the cryostasis chamber. Down a hallway to the next, round a corner and another, there wasn’t a single soul in the eerily Eastern wing.

But he spoke too soon, because seconds later, a garrote wire was around his neck. The swift invisible steps and the perfect pressure that was being used to quickly cut off his air supply was all too familiar. He knows this move, he taught this move. You’re here, and you’re dragging him backwards.

Before all oxygen gets cut off to his brain, he jabs his elbow backwards and hits you hard on the rib which releases the hold you have on him and sends you stumbling back. Bucky takes a moment to regain his breath but you’re on your feet again. He looks at you and for a moment he freezes, then you let out a sinister grin. “Nice to see you again, Soldat,” you taunt, before running towards him.

Bucky’s deflecting your punches one after another. Maybe he’s glad he was the one who taught you everything you know because your moves were predictable—if it were another person, there is no doubt they would’ve been on the ground with multiple concussions bleeding out already. You’re ruthless when you do a triple roundhouse kick on him. On the fourth one, he manages to catch your leg and twists it, sending you to the ground with a groan.

How familiar this scene was, Bucky thinks.

Some forty-years ago, Hydra brought a woman into the training room. There was no further instruction than to train you and that’s what he did. He could tell you were well trained already—compliant and pliable. You were good. And you were just like him, injected with a serum that made you a hundred times more efficient and stronger. In just under a year, Hydra would start sending you on missions. Sometimes with him, sometimes alone.

During training, the both of you would spar for hours, leaving each other bloody and bruised, but it didn’t matter to the overlookers, the both of you would heal in a few hours anyways.

Once you pick yourself back up, he pulls a gun out on you. “Stop this,” he commands.

You smirk, “You going to shoot me, Soldat? I want to see you try.”

He clenches his jaw. You continue to look at him, a dark look on your face that shows no sign of true recognition.

His thoughts are disrupted when you tackle him onto the ground. You kick his gun away and pin his arms down as you straddle him. “I’m going to kill you,” you declare, “I’m going to put a bullet through your head.”

When he looks up at you, your eyes are full of rage. Bucky doesn’t know whether that’s the brainwashed version of you talking or the actual you talking—maybe both.

“What are you going to do after you kill me?” he says, irritated. C’mon, please recognize me. “This is all that remains of Hydra. Half the troops are already dead. One of your new leaders is dead. In a few hours, Hydra will be no more. What will you do after that? What are you going to do after you kill me?”

“What does it matter? You’re my mission. I’m going to finish it.”

He groans at your stubbornness that was identical to his Soldier persona.

He says your name slowly. “Get off. You can walk away from this.”

You frown, but he continues, “I know how you feel. You’re feeling helpless.” He clears his throat, “There’s someone behind this version of you. I want to talk to her.”

“What are you talking about?” you utter in annoyance. “Stop stalling.”

He says that name again, with calamity and care. You want to rip out his tongue.

“Let me talk to her. Please.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about!” you shout, grabbing for the gun that’s strapped onto your waist. “Stop talkin–”

“I was in the cell next to yours. You liked the colour green. You were wearing white when we first met. You always wanted to visit Bucharest. You hated the leaky cold showers in the Siberian facility,” he rambles, trying to remember every single thing about you in a desperate attempt to get your attention so this version of you won’t shoot him in the face.

And for a moment, it works because your hand freezes on the grip of your gun. He takes that moment to flip you over, so you’re under him now, hands pinned above your head. He takes your gun and throws it behind him.

You snarl at him while trying to escape his grasp. “I know you’re under there,” he says. “Please, come through. Please talk to me.”

Your face scrunches in pain, not from him—he would never hurt you—but from the mental warfare that’s currently going on in your mind. You close your eyes as he speaks again. “Listen to my voice, you know me, don’t you? мой милая.”

My darling.

For a moment, your entire body tenses up and then you let out a painful breath. When your eyelids start to flutter open, he finally sees the eyes he came to know and rely on—eyes he came to love.

The both of you are looking at each other unblinking. A scene neither of you expected but always dreamt about.

You break the silence with a whisper of, “James?”

Bucky slowly nods at your disbelief. Finally, he thinks. But such respite doesn’t last long, because seconds later, you hook your foot under his and flip him over and escape his grasp.

There's darkness in your eyes and he can tell that the Soldate is back and the fighting resumes.

You’re chasing him down the twisting hallway and when you catch up, you grab his shoulder and throw a punch to his jaw. He stumbles back and then a voice comes through the comms.

“Just took down the second one.” Steve. “Bucky, how are you holding up? You’ve been quiet ever since we split up.”

He’s trying his best to block your hand, which now has a damn pocket knife. Your quick movements are starting to tire him out. Maybe he taught you too well, he thinks.

“Buck? Bucky. Confirm your status, right now.”

Groaning in frustration, he taps his earpiece. “I’m fine,” he grunts. A second later, “Shit!” he huffs out as you nearly slice his face.

“You don’t sound fine. Is she with you? I’m sending back up.”

“No!” he says, “Don’t send anyone. I can handle her.”

In truth, he’s struggling right now—your stamina has always been better than his—but he’s worried that you’re going to accidentally get hurt and even more agitated when people appear. His main priority was keeping you safe. Fuck the mission statement they talked about back on the Quinjet.

You’re angry—no, you’re extremely angry at him. It doesn’t take a genius to tell. It’s a mixture of pure rage from both the brainwashed and actual you.

He supposed he deserved it. You should be angry. Because for the longest time, it was you and him.

Other than turning you into a ruthless assassin just like him, an unexpected companionship also formed during those hazy in-between moments when the two of you weren’t frozen or on the metal chair getting fried by those machines—during the times when he was just Bucky and you were just you, two unfortunate innocent souls that shared the same suffering.

They weren’t pleasant moments. It was dehumanising. It was getting shoved into draughty cells with nothing but a blanket until it was time to train or time to embark on a mission. Luckily, your cells were next to each other and it made the endless nights a little more bearable. He was a little off-putting at first, but when he yelled at you to stop crying because they would torture you even more for it, you knew he meant well.

During your shared time together, glimpses of your true selves would seldom come up and you would tell each other about the little bits and pieces of a life once known. And the both of you would hold onto each other's memories and stories in case the other forgets.

And whenever they prep the two of you for the chamber due to there being no current missions for the time being, the two of you would look at each other—a look of longing with the secret squeezing of each other's hand before going under.

Despite the absolute awful situation the two of you were in at the time, the both of you were hopeful for the next shared moments together. Because even when all hope was gone, you had each other. And that was good enough for the two of you.

He misses you. So damn much.

“Shut up,” you mutter.

He didn’t even realise he said it outloud. “Well, I do,” he admits, his back hitting a wall.

“You talk too much, Soldat,” you say, creeping up on him. “I ought to cut your throat.”

“I’m sorry I left you with them.”

You halt in your steps and your jaw ticks. In a second, you pounce on him, your knife against his throat. He’s gripping your hand to stop you from continuing your job.

He says your name again. You’re pushing but he’s pushing back just as hard. “I’m sorry…” he repeats, “I’m so sorry.”

The desperation in his voice… You glance up at him slowly and he sees the pink forming in your eyes and your trembling lips. “What are you doing? What are you doing to me?” you whisper.

He sees the internal war behind your eyes once again. Bucky gulps for a moment before letting go of your hand, trusting that you won’t do any actual harm, and moves his hands so he’s cupping your face, firm enough so you’re forced to look at him. You look into his eyes for a second, then a minute, and for a moment, everything stops. Your breath hitches, because those eyes… those arctic blues… you know them. You fell in love with them many years ago.

A realisation washes over your face, one that Bucky doesn’t miss. You’re back.

The first tear falls. Then the second. “Bucky.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers.

You let out a small cry before you press the blade harder against his neck, your grip a vice from his betrayal. He could feel the sharp cold metal pierce through his skin ever so slightly, but he doesn’t try and stop you.

“Give me a reason to not kill you right now,” you grit through tears. “You left me. You left me behind to rot alone. You promised me. You fucking promised,” you say, voice laced with venom and so much hurt.

Bucky’s heart breaks at the sadness of your voice. Because he did promise. There wasn’t much to do in the cells other than throw around false hope. But whenever he told you he was going to escape one day and that he was going to take you with him—it didn’t feel like false promises at all because it wasn’t, and you knew it too.

Until he broke that promise and left you all alone.

“I didn’t mean to,” he says, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to leave you there with them.”

“I waited for you,” you cry. “Day and night I waited for you to come back. Even when they relocated, I waited for you because I knew you’d find me.”

You remember that day clearly. Everyone was in a frenzy when the death of Alexander Pierce broke out and that they could not locate the Soldat. For a moment, you could taste your own freedom because government officials would come anytime now and finally arrest all these criminals. But right when they came, a few Hydra officers managed to escape and took you with them, and when you woke up, you didn’t know where the hell you were. But even then you didn’t lose hope because James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, the name you committed to memory, was going to come for you just like he promised.

Until days, months, and eventually, a year came with no sign of him.

You were angry at first, but it slowly turned into worry because what if something bad had happened to him? But what do you know? You were stuck in this building and only went out whenever they spoke those trigger words to you. And you were always under their watchful eyes, giving you no chance to even attempt an escape. Surely he would never break his promise to you so something must’ve happened to him, you told yourself multiple times.

But he was standing here right in front of you. Alive. We’re under attack, your handler said to you moments ago, Kill the Soldat before he kills you.

“You’re a liar. You never cared about me,” you hiss.

Sometimes, it got too much. But whenever reality was a bit too hard to endure, Bucky was there, always reaching his hand out to you through the metal cage, which you took and held tight. And it meant the world to you, that someone cared.

“All those moments, did it even mean anything to you?”

He uses this opportunity to pull your arms down slightly, knife finally away from his neck and his eyes start to sting from his own tears. “They meant everything to me. I care about you.”

You look up at him with a defeated expression and Bucky never wanted to punch himself in the face more. “Then why? Why didn’t you come back for me?”

“I did,” he chokes out. “When I escaped, the first thing I did was go back for you, but the facility had already been raided and there was no one there. I checked every inch of the building.”

Bucky had never felt so scared, because what if the government took you too? They would never understand—framing you as a villain even though that was far from the truth. But there was no news of your capture, so with a breath of relief, Bucky continued to look through other known Hydra facilities.

“I tried my best looking for you, but I also had to be careful because I was a wanted man at the time. When months passed by and there were no clues, I thought that maybe you had escaped. I was in Bucharest waiting for you. Remember how you said you always wanted to go there? I knew that if you escaped, you’d find me there. Even when you didn’t show, I never gave up. Steve… I think I told you about him once—he found me, he helped me and cleared my name. After that, I still searched for you but it all ended up being dead ends. And…” he pauses for a moment, “and so I thought you were dead. I should’ve tried harder. I’m sorry.”

He had mourned you and blamed himself endlessly for it.

He knows he should’ve asked for help, but instead, he took this task upon himself until it got too much—because that was the one thing he struggled with the most, asking for help.

When his side of the story finally comes to light, you break into a sob. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he says, “but please, drop the weapon and let me help you.”

You swallow hard at his confession. He never stopped looking for you. You didn’t even consider how hard it must’ve been for him after everything and yet you’re lashing out on him.

“How are you going to help me?” you say. “I’m a mess. All you have to do is say those words and I turn into a weapon.”

Twelve. Ember. Fragment. Nine. Academy. Order. Frigid. Yearning. Blue.

Those were your trigger words.

“I got you out of your trance, didn’t I?” he says with a gentle smile.

Hydra needed you to rebuild their empire and they relied on those nine words to do so. To them, those nine words were your greatest weakness but one of them, the last one, the one they liked to spit out in vexation, was also your greatest strength—your salvation.

Blue.

You think back, moments prior, when all he had to do was use his voice and all you had to do was look into the blues of his eyes. Hydra can repeat those words all they want, but Bucky would always be able to bring you back.

At that, your grip relaxes and the knife finally drops onto the floor, it’s noise ricocheting off the walls.

“There’s a place called Wakanda and I know someone there who can help you. Her name’s Ayo and she’s amazing. She helped me overcome my words.”

He brings his hands back up to cradle your face and you shutter at the familiar touch—at the calluses on his palms. “And I think you’ll like it there. It’s quiet and there’s so much… green.”

You let out a small laugh through your tears but doubt still fills your mind. “But… all the things I did,” you whimper, “I did such terrible unforgivable things. There’s… there’s so much blood on my hands.”

Sadness flares around his heart. It was all so familiar. He knows the feeling.

“It’s not going to be easy. God knows how long it took for me to believe that none of it was my fault. But let me be the first one to tell you,” he says, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “None of what you did was your fault. You were a victim.” He swallows a deep breath, “There are going to be days where it’ll be too much too bear and there are going to be nights where all those casualties will haunt you,” he admits. “But… but you’ll get there. Someday, you’ll learn to stop punishing yourself for something you didn’t do.”

And he vows that he’ll help you every step of the way.

You breathe out slowly, digesting all his words. “You can trust me,” he tells you, “I won’t let you down this time. I’ll be here.”

Blinking up at him, the small hesitant part of you so desperately wanted to say, “How can I trust you?” but his eyes were telling you everything you needed to know. Because it was filled with nothing but honour and truth.

He breaks away from you and reaches out his hand. An invitation. You stare at it for a while, then you slowly lift yours and brush your fingers amongst his before grabbing it tightly—a truce of sorts, a promise. He squeezes back in return, a loving smile on his face, just like all those nights many moonlights ago.

Your breath hitches when he pulls you into his embrace, your face burying perfectly into the valley of his chest. He wraps his arms around you in urgency, in fear, almost afraid you’ll slip out if he doesn’t.

“It’s over,” he mumbles into your hair.

Because two floors down an explosion erupts, finishing off the last remaining garrison of troops. Three hallways down, Natasha sets fire to a room that contained the other small red leather book that held those nine suffocating words written in Russian. Outside, the last Hydra officer attempting to flee falls to his knees from an arrow to the chest. And the only hope they had left to rebuild their regime was safely in Bucky’s arms.

He pulls away and uses his thumb to rub gently across your cheek, “It’s over. The war is finally over.”

Now that the worst is over, Bucky’s hopeful. There will be other conflicts to come, that was just how it worked, but this one, the one that held you and him underwater for years was finally over. War always took too much, but this time, it gave something back. Because among the ashes and ruins you came back to him, no more oceans in between.

“What do we do now?” you press nervously. You were taken at a young age and spent years in the Red Room before you were sold off to Hydra. Like Bucky, you’re in the wrong time period, there’s no one to go back to.

There’s so many things you could do, Bucky thinks. You can finally start living the life you deserved, the life that was taken from you too early. He’ll have to explain all this to his teammates but he knows they’ll understand. They treated him so well, there’s no doubt they’ll show the same kindness for you. Then, he’ll go with you to Wakanda, get rid of the words, maybe stay there for a while so you could heal—maybe show you the goats he took care of during his time there.

You’ll probably adjust to the 21st century better than him—you won’t need to start off with a flip phone, that’s for sure. He’ll make you listen to all the great records and watch all the movies you missed out on. There’s so many things he wanted to do with you. He knows you have no memories, no recollection. It didn’t matter, Bucky thinks, he would make new memories with you, ones worth cherishing and remembering. If you’ll have him, of course.

But first and most importantly, “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Then we can talk about it,” he says, rubbing the grime off your nose.

He grabs your hand and heads for the exit. But before he does, you pick up your knife from the floor and in one quick motion, you spin around and throw it. The knife embeds itself into the wall a few metres away, right next to a prying face. You stand in front of Bucky and stare at the intruder with a murderous gaze and Bucky’s heart races at the thought of you still wanting to protect him after everything.

The blond raises his arms up in surrender.

“Steve,” Bucky says from behind and you briefly recognize that name. You turn around to look at him and he meets your eyes, nodding. You relax your stance.

“Hi,” Steve says, voice slightly hoarse. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

Bucky scoffs at him, as if he wasn’t eavesdropping the whole time.

Steve looks at the both of you, then a gentle smile adorns his face. “C’mon, the rest are waiting outside for you both.”

You step forward. This is it. Freedom. A new life. Bucky notices your hesitation as you suddenly stop in your tracks. Intertwining his fingers with yours, he squeezes with reassurance. You take a deep breath, then the two of you follow Steve to the exit, leaving behind the smoke and memories of your old life.

Outside, the sun comes up slowly but surely on the horizon, painting the awakening sky a gentle warm hue of oranges and pinks.

A new beginning awaits.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky #bucky barnes

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mikkomacko · 1 month ago

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Him and I - Lovesick

Pairing: Nico hischier x reader, mob boss Nico

Warnings: Little bit of smut, whole lot of Nico being down bad for his girl. (Not proofread at all so bear with me for a couple of days)

A/n: I decided to split this into two because it was really getting away from me so prepare for our last chapter in Switzerland coming soon. Other than that, happy reading!!!

____________________________________________

When you were fifteen, you had your first real injury. It wasn’t anything traumatic that still keeps you up at night or anything life altering. But it did make you realize a few things about yourself.

Freshman year, your first year on a real soccer team that required try outs and everything. Nothing like your intro league years. You’d been pulled up to the varsity team. Not starting or anything, but filling in on wing for the backup of the junior that had gotten sick.

It was fun. It was also your chance of proving yourself to be varsity ready.

You remember running down the left wing, pushing yourself to pass the center that was taking the ball up. You remember looking over, locking eyes with her and yelling “give and go!”

And she had. A slick pass directly to your feet. All you had to do was get around the defender in front of you, pass across and catch the center again for a toe-in goal.

The only thing is that you didn’t get past the defender. Instead the two of you collided into a heap that sent to ball out of bounds and sent you flying into the grass.

Your arm burned. It was almost immediate. No numb feeling, no adrenaline. It was like someone lit a fire under your skin, dead center in the middle of your forearm.

You had broken your arm in the end. A break so bad that it required surgery to realign and months of healing and therapy to get back to normal.

It didn’t matter though. All that mattered was the defender you had tackled. In the fall, your cleat had caught her in the thigh, made a gash so deep it soaked the grass beneath you. Her shorts were stained, your jersey was wet and sticky, and your cleat was the culprit.

It was terrible. You felt terrible. Of course it was an accident, but it was still caused by you. The girl had cried when you and one of her teammates helped her up, carried her limping over to her bench.

And then the ref directed you to your bench because your arm was hanging a bit odd and already turning purple.

A few weeks later you found out the girl quit soccer. After your surgery, you did too. Not because your mama insisted or because you thought you couldn’t play anymore with a bum arm.

But because you felt guilty every time you saw your cleats. Every school dance or homecoming game when you saw that girl, you felt guilty.

You learned that you don’t have a hard time moving past the things that hurt you, but rather the things that hurt those around you.

That’s what you think about as you finish reading the messages on Lena’s old phone. You can feel Nico’s gaze on you, waiting for you to react. He knows you’ve finished reading them, was watching you scroll through the thread and reach the bottom.

“Look through it all, if you want,” he had said when he handed it to you. “Photos, social media, whatever. But the texts are what I wanted you to see.”

You don’t need to see anything else. It doesn’t matter if she had a thousand followers on instagram or a high snap score. It doesn’t matter what gossip and plans she had in her group chat with her friends.

All that matters is that she wanted to hurt Nico. She did hurt Nico and she used you to do it. You can’t believe it really. She claims to love him in the texts, she told Marcello that she’s always loved him and she deserves him back. She’s what he needs.

You’re so sick and tired of people hurting Nico and claiming it’s love.

Locking the phone, you place it on the bedside table to be trashed or tossed later. None of you need it anymore, you all know everything.

“Are you ok?”

He’s sitting at the foot of the bed, right leg hanging over the edge and left one bent towards you. His hand rests on the jean clad thigh, fingers twitching when you shift onto your knees.

Nico always looks at you so sweetly, expressive eyes so full of love, and that doesn’t change now. Even when you can tell by the pout of his lips that he’s worried about how you’ll react.

“Yeah,” you say meekly, tongue feeling dry. You knee your way down the duvet, gripping his shoulder for balance as you climb into his lap. “Are you?”

Nico’s hands find your hips, cocking his head to the side. “What? Yeah of course I’m ok.”

A strand of hair falls in front of his eyes and you twirl it around your pointer finger, tuck it behind his ear. “She hurt you Nico,” you say, a little confused.

“She hurt you baby.”

“Well yeah,” you agree, caressing the side of his neck. “But she did it to hurt you. And then she said it was out of love.”

Nico’s watching you carefully, dark eyes taking in every detail of your face. You wonder what he’s looking for, what he’s expecting you to say. Probably not this if he’s reacting so timidly.

“People like to hurt you,” you continue, hesitantly. You don’t want to say this in a way that makes it sound like his fault. Because you know he’d take the blame, he always blames himself. “People that are supposed to love you and support you, they don’t do it the way they should Nico.”

The furrow between his eyebrows smoothes out, lips parting and he makes a noise of understanding. “I didn’t love her, so I didn’t expect her to love me either. No matter what she says.”

“She did love you Nico,” you tighten your hold on him like you’re trying to physically squeeze the idea that he’s lovable into him. “I think she really loved you at one point but it turned bad.”

“I still didn’t love her though.” He insists.

Frustrated, you groan and tuck your face into his shoulder, needing a second to figure out what you’re saying to him. Nico squeezes your hip, draws your weight close into him.

“Explain it to me baby,” his breath is warm against your cheek, nose pressing into your jaw. “what are you-what’s going on, huh?”

Holding his shoulders, you sit back on your haunches and look at him. “You deserve so much love Nico, and every time I’m reminded that someone here didn’t love you the way they should, it makes me so mad.

“Love isn’t about what someone gains from being with you or can use you for. And I know you say it doesn’t matter, that you don’t care but I care for you. You’re the best person I’ve ever met Nico, and I think you deserve so much love that it makes you feel like your heart is gonna explode-“

Nico kisses you hard and desperate, right hand gripping the back of your head and holding you steady. There’s a moment of surprise, Nico nipping at your frozen lips. The action startles you and you melt into him, allowing him the opportunity to deepen the kiss licking into your mouth. It’s messy and wet, but passionate. Nico’s always been a good kisser, and he always speaks with his actions when words fail him.

“I spend,” he mutters breathlessly, words pressed into your bottom lip. “Every day of my life trying to explain what your love feels like.”

You open your eyes to find his already watching you, faces so close together that his thick lashes and chocolate eyes take up your whole view. “It feels like I can never catch my breath, like my heart is always racing. But it’s so calming, so sure at the same time.

“You don’t need to worry about anyone else trying to break my heart. It belongs to you, all of it. And I know you’ll protect it.”

It doesn’t really make sense if you think about it. That you make his heart race but calm him at the same time. You get it though, understand what he means because you feel the same way.

“That’s what we do. Protect each other, right?”

He smiles, pecks your lips softly and you know that’s him agreeing. That’s the leadership he’s always implemented into the Devs, into the family. Protect each other above all else. He’s your family, the only one you’ve got left. You’ll always protect him.

~~~~

The paper crinkles under your weight, cracking loudly in the otherwise silent room with each swing of your legs. You feel like a kid again, sock clad feet swaying in the air while Nico watches you, your clothes folded in a pile on his lap.

It’s an odd feeling and you realize that it’s because this is the first time you’ve ever actually been to a hospital or doctor since meeting Nico.

In the family, everything is done at home. Typically by you or Johnny, but Nico’s gotten pretty good at playing doctor for you too.

You look over at him, find him staring down at your clothes with a pinch between his eyebrows. He’s got the fabric of your bra pinched between his fingers, running his thumb over the lace cup contemplatively. Slowly, you stop moving your legs, not wanting to catch his attention.

It’s a moment later that he looks up, eyes widening when he realizes he’s been caught and you giggle. “Whatcha doing?”

“This one’s nice,” he shrugs, tucking the bra back into the middle of the pile, hidden underneath your sweater. “I don’t- is it new?”

You laugh again. “You recognize all my bras now or what?”

“Well yeah usually.” He bristles. “Am-“

The door to the exam rooms opens and Nico clamps his mouth shut, that boyish look morphing into one of neutrality. If anything he looks bored.

“Hello, hello,” your doctor greets, tossing a file folder onto the desk. You greet her, smiling politely for both you and Nico. “How are we feeling?”

“Great,” you answer immediately, and she steps by your knees, unclipping the flashlight from her coat pocket. You don’t need to be told what to do as she shines the light in your eyes, you following the random pattern she makes with it.

Satisfied, she turns the light off and tucks it away, hands on her hips as she smiles at you. “Well your scans came back clear, you look perfect from what I can tell, and you reported no lingering side effects?”

You nod in confirmation, smiling proudly. No soreness, no neck pain, no dizziness or vomiting, and best of all; no headaches.

“And the wound is all healed up. There’s barely a scar.”

You’re eager, you know that. Almost childlike as you sit on your hands, wiggling your toes with excitement. “So I can go home? I’m clear to fly?”

The doctor laughs, glancing over at Nico when she nods. “Yes you’re clear for anything and everything. If you feel any nausea or migraines, I’d slow down. But you seem perfectly healthy Miss. Hischier.”

It’s not a Mrs but it’s close enough, makes butterflies swarm in your gut and you warm at the thought of Nico checking you into the hospital under his name that day. If he even did check you in. You’re not sure how mob controlled hospitals run. Maybe Nico just ran in with you and told them all you were a Hischier.

Either way it makes your heart swell. You look over at him, a beaming smile on your lips so big it makes your cheeks ache. Nico neck is pink, the flush just beginning to reach his cheeks and despite the bashful smile that curls at his lips, he winks at you, something cheeky put proud glinting in his eyes.

~~~~

“Anything and everything.”

That’s what the doctor said and that’s what you think about as Nico slides the driver seat back, giving him more room to stretch his legs out.

The restaurant you’re supposed to be meeting everyone at is just across the street, Swiss flags hanging from the iced over patio. The name is French you think, but a sticker in the window reads SUPPORT LOCAL BUSINESS in big thick letters. It’s kinda funny, Swiss local but French.

Nico said it was one of his favorites when he made the reservation, so you assume he’s eaten there a lot. He made it sound popular, like the reservation was needed in order to get in but as you look through the tinted window of the SUV, it looks closed. You can’t see anyone at the tables in the windows, no guests going in or out.

The reservation isn’t for another 30 minutes. You could probably go in early since they don’t look busy, but then you’re looking over at Nico, right hand scratching at the scruff of his beard. He’s got his phone in the other, scrolling through what looks like a confirmation email but you’re not really looking at that.

No you’re looking at his hands, long and thick fingers, veins running down the backs of his hands in a way that’s the perfect balance of pretty and manly. Then you’re looking at his face, the way his eyelashes curl just enough to frame his eyes, to soften them. His dark eyebrows that make him look far more intimidating and harsh than he should with his doe-eyes and dimples.

The slope of his nose, not really curved or gentle looking in any way but when he’s off guard like this, when he’s comfortable, makes him look so cute. And his beard that he’s still yet to shave, following your whining and begging by letting it grow out far too long. But it makes him look scruffy and warm, like a teddy bear you just want to snuggle into.

Anything and everything, you think as warmth stirs in the pit of your belly. You take off your seat belt, turning to face him over the center console. Nico drops his phone in the cupholder, mirroring your actions.

“What?” He says, tucking his hair behind his ears and up into his backwards hat. You blink, biting at your lip. How long has it been? Since the day Lena took you, so a little over a week.

Which might not be a crazy amount of time, but for you and Nico it is. Especially when he looks like that.

“Did you hear the doctor?”

He looks you up and down, gaze lingering on where you’ve tangled your fingers in the fabric of your sweater. When he meets your eyes, they’re sparkling with amusement.

“I did.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, looking at him impatiently and expectantly. Nico makes no move, simply staring back at your begging and downright desperate glare.

“Anything and everything Nico,” you repeat, a whining edge to your voice. This would be so much easier if he’d just reach over and touch you, guide you over the console and into his lap.

You could ride him, you think excitedly. You haven’t done that in a while and it’s easy in the car. Or maybe ask for his fingers, those beautiful fingers that are resting on his thick thighs. It all sounds so good, too good.

“I heard the doctor baby,” he says with mirth, eyebrow raising when you huff in annoyance. Then he’s laughing, eyes crinkling and you cross your arms over your chest, leaning back into the door and glaring at him. Unfortunately it resembles more of a childlike pout than anger, if Nico’s ever growing amusement is anything to go by.

“Alright, what do you want from me?” He asks through a laugh, looking over at the screen to check the time. “We’ve only got like 20 minutes, and I’m not fucking you in the car when my family will be walking by any second.”

You pout even more, all begging eyes and a sweet little frown you know he can’t say no too. Especially not when you flutter your eyelashes at him, mumbling out a pathetic little “please Nico?”

He groans, head falling back against the window and he squeezes his eyes shut. Without word he blindly grabs his phone, opening his eyes back up to look at you sternly.

“You do what I say and you don’t whine about it, got it?”

You’re already agreeing, nodding your head like a bobble head and sitting up straighter to follow whatever lead he gives you. Much to your surprise, he kills the engine and takes the keys out of the ignition, reaching for the door handle.

“Backseat,” is all he says before climbing out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Following blindly, you scramble to climb over the console and into the backseat, awkwardly collapsing onto your elbow with your legs still tangled in the front seat when Nico tugs open the back door.

He pauses, looks at you for a second and then chuckles. “Oh this is so sexy,” he jokes, slipping into the car and shutting his door. You shift, somehow managing to get your feet into the backseat and then you’re settling onto your knees beside him.

“Shut up,” you reply, forcing your hands to sit patiently on your knees even though they’re aching to touch Nico, to hold his face and kiss him.

He’s still smiling, thoroughly amused, and nods towards the drivers seat in front of him. “Pull it forward for me.”

He couldn’t have asked you to do this before you crawled back here? You know he’s messing with you, having a good time with the fact that you’re so desperate you’re willing to break your neck crawling around the car. It’s a little embarrassing. And yet you do it anyway.

Huffing, you lean back over the center console, balanced on one elbow and stretching your hand out to the side of the drivers seat.

“This is dehumanizing Nico.” You complain, fingers finding the button. The seat starts inching forward and suddenly a large hand is grabbing at your ass, fingers palming you through your jeans.

“I think you look good.”

You fold under Nico’s hands, muscles going slack and slumping into the console. The seat is as far forward as it can go, you think, so it doesn’t really matter now. You hear Nico move behind you, feel the warmth of his body get closer and then his other hand is reaching around your waist, deft finger finding the button of your jeans.

“Nico…”

He chuckles, breathless, and drags the zipper down. Then he’s taking a hold of your hips, tugging you backwards until you get the hint to push yourself up and slip into the backseat again.

You collapse into the middle seat, feeling hot and stuffy in your sweater and jeans, Nico leaning over you. He looks so good, dark eyes and pink cheeks, that stupid hat that always makes him look so handsome.

Then he’s kissing you, cupping the back of your head and slipping his tongue into your mouth. The whole world goes fuzzy around you, the only sound in the car are those little noises and breathes that Nico lets out into your mouth. All you can feel is his hands and his lips, turning you into mush and then remolding you however he pleases.

He gets you laid out on your back, one foot on the car floor and the other hanging over the seats. You knock the hat off his head, tangle your fingers in his hair instead and he’s moves to your neck, mouthing over your pulse. His hands shove your sweater up, run over the warm and sweaty skin of your stomach and ribs before he’s grabbing the edge of your jeans and yanking them down your thighs.

It’s awkward and messy, you accidentally kick him as your pants tug your leg down from the seats. Nico just grunts, pulling back to sit on his haunches and he’s rough and annoyed as he wrangles your boots and pants off, tossing them into the front seat.

You want his jacket off too, you think hazily, blinking to try and focus. All you can look at are his bitten lips, bright red and swollen. The car is so hot, he’s so hot. You don’t know how he’s wearing all those layers so you reach out for the hem of his top, not even getting close to touching him before he’s shuffling into the space you made when you slid the drivers seat forward.

He barely fits down there, hunched forward uncomfortably and legs tangled under him but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Nico licks his lips, dark eyes settling on the pair of cotton panties you’re wearing and he’s pushing your leg up onto the front seat, parting your thighs around him.

The noise that leaves you is pathetic, a mix between desperate and embarrassed because you know he can tell how wet you are, how the image of him doing awful things with his mouth and hands has been torturing you all day.

“I know baby,” he soothes, fingers rubbing tenderly at the inside of your thigh. His thumb finds the damp spot on your underwear, dipping in until the pad of his thumb is teasing at your hole.

“Please,” you gasp, eyes screwing shut. His touch burns under your skin, pulls every muscle in your body so tight you feel like you could explode. “Please Nico.”

It sounds more like a sob than an actual sentence, your voice whining and desperate. But Nico likes that, you can see it in the little smirk on his face when your eyes flutter open just long enough to meet his over the dips of your body.

Nico’s thumb tugs your underwear to the side. You lean back into the seat, staring up at the closed sunroof of the car and then Nico’s diving in. His tongue licks a flat strip up your pussy, nose swiping up your clit as he moves and you grab at his hair, arching into his face.

The thick hair of his beard is scratchy against your thighs, the hair long enough that it’s more soft than prickly and it feels so good. His tongue settles against your clit, making soft little circles that have you digging your fingers into his scalp.

He’s sloppy with his work, dripping spit from his mouth all over you, gently teasing your clit until your wound all the way up and then sucking it into his mouth. It’s too much, so good that you’re crying out for him but not coming just yet. And he knows that, knows that he has to be sweet and soft on that sensitive spot if he wants you to come.

Which is why he isn’t doing it. Letting you get close once, twice, and then a third time before starting all over. You huff, frustrated and knowing that the two of you need to hurry if you want to make him come too.

You pull at his hair, just enough to make it sting and he grunts into your pussy, digs his nails into your thigh until it hurts. But he’s slowing down after that, replacing the rough nips of his teeth with his plush lips.

A fingers swipes at your hole, has you desperately clenching around nothing and you make another embarrassed noise at him. Lifting your head, you look down at him through wet eyes but he’s not looking at you. Baby hairs stick to his damp forward, flattened under your palm. Crease between his eyebrows, eyes closed in focus and those long eyelashes of his tickle the flushed skin of his cheekbones. His nose is pressed into your mound, so close to you that you can’t see much. But you can see the way his jaw moves and ticks which every flick of his tongue.

Fuck, he’s beautiful, you think achingly. You wish he would talk to you, say something in that deep, raw voice he gets when he’s turned on.

Nico’s finger eases into you, thick and warm, and you flop back into the seats, whining desperately. You try to form the words in your head, hear his voice like you have so many times before.

“Sweet girl.”

“Taste so good, baby, doing so fucking good for me.”

“Make me feel so good,”

He curls his finger, prods at the sensitive spot of your walls and you hear him groan, feel it against your clit. You can practically hear what’s he’s thinking.

“You’re so wet, all for me.”

The rubber band in your belly snaps, all the orgasms that he built up before and then took away suddenly hitting you. Hard and fast. You clench around him, thighs tightening and twitching and Nico’s pets you through it. Wiggles and curls his fingers, lazily licks at your clit.

You hear him more than actually feel him pull away, sensitive and throbbing still as he wiggles his way off the floor. It’s his grunt of annoyance, the sound of his knee cracking as he gets up that makes you open your eyes, hands dropping from his hair onto your stomach.

Nico’s above you, hair hanging over his forehead and eyes bright. The whole bottom half of his face is wet, lips shiny and red but he’s smiling, teeth pearly white.

You tilt your chin up, puckering your lips and he easily obliges. He kisses you, soft and sweet with those swollen lips of his.

“You’re so pretty,” he mumbles into your lips, and chills run down your spine. He sounds exactly like you knew he would, rough and husky. You peck his mouth again, humming in appreciation as you reach for the front of his jeans

Your fingers have just found the button of his jeans when he grips your wrist and pulls your hand back.

“Nico,” you whine in protest, pulling back to frown at him but he’s already shaking his head.

“Don’t have time,” he mumbles into the skin of your cheek, kissing at your smile lines.

“That’s not fair! I wanted-“

He interrupts, tone not angry but definitely not up for debate. “I told you I wasn’t fucking you in the car.”

You look between where he’s leaning over you, mouth watering at the bulge in the front of his jeans. Nico takes your chin between his fingers, squeezes just once in warning and makes you look up at him.

“You’re gonna be good for me,” he instructs, “we’re gonna get cleaned up and get out of the car. And then we’re gonna go inside and eat lunch with everyone, and you’re gonna be the sweet girl I know you are, ok?”

“Ok,” you mumble, sad eyes blinking up at him.

“We’re gonna have a good time, Timo’s excited for you to meet his mom.”

You perk up at that. “I am too.”

Nico smiles, lets go of your face and presses a sweet kiss to the tip of your nose. “Can take care of me later at home, ok?”

“Mhm,” you mumble, kissing him again. His beard is so soft, he’s so warm and snuggly you never want to let him go.

“One more kiss and then we gotta go.”

You agree, pressing your lips back to his.

~~~~

Nico’s rented the whole restaurant for the day. He wanted private meal with his family and friends, something intimate and fun before you guys leave for Jersey.

They pushed tables together in the center of the room, crowded chairs around it into something that resemble the overly large dining table you have at home to seat all the Devs.

Nico takes your jacket for you when you too enter the building, hanging it with the stacks of other coats at the front. Then he’s shrugging his off, placing it with yours and you realize that while you two were busy in the car, everyone else beat you here.

They’re already sat around the table. Katja and Rino at the far end, facing the door. Luca and Nina on either side, tall mugs of frothy beer in front of them.

The four boys are after them, Jack and Luke on one side and Dawson and Alex across. Timo and a blonde woman, almost an exact copy of him are next to Luke. Meaning the two chairs next to Alex are obviously for you and Nico. You can already hear the argument Alex made to get you to sit next to him, and you can see the look Timo probably gave him.

“There they are!”

It’s Luca, chair scraping against the floor as he rises. Nico presses his hand into your lower back, guiding you around the table to say hi to everyone. You hug Luca and Katja, share an awkward hand shake with Rino before Nina is squeezing you into an embrace. She makes you try a sip of her beer, laughing when you only scrunch your nose a tiny bit before half heartedly muttering “s’so good.”

Nico hugs her, lightheartedly pulling on her braid and telling her to leave you alone. Jack climbs up from his chair, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you like he hasn’t seen you in days.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” he exclaims and you laugh as he cups your face. “Oh way too pretty for that one I’ll tell ya.”

And then Nico is swatting him away from you, pushing you along. You squeeze Luke’s shoulder as you pass, smiling widely when you get to Timo and his mother, who immediate jumps to hug Nico.

They speak in German, Nico’s tone somehow shy as she goes on and on towards him. You don’t know what they’re saying, but you smile at Nico anyway before giving Timo a hug. It feels like you haven’t seen him in days.

“Claudia, have I introduced you to my-“

“No this is my best friend!” Timo interrupts, sliding up next to you. “Budge over Hischier, we were friends before you started dating.”

Nico mutters something in German to Timo but places a kiss on your head and then moves to go sit down.

“Mom, this is y/n,” Timo introduces. “She’s the one I tell you about all the time.”

His mother, Claudia, is just like her son. She doesn’t hold back, shoving her son to the side and hugging you.

“It’s so wonderful to meet you!” She gushes in a thick accent. “Timo is always talking about you and that dog of yours.”

You laugh, hugging her back. “He’s always talking about you too.” She holds your face, blue eyes looking at you with so much warmth it makes you look away shyly.

“Oh you’re precious,” she laughs, brushing your hair away from your face and something in your heart throbs, recalls all the times your mother used to do the same.

You thank her quietly, sharing a tiny smile with Timo before moving to sit with Nico. Dawson gives you a peace sign as you get closer, sipping at a cocktail through a little straw and you ruffle his hair. Taking your seat, you lean over and press a kiss to Alex’s cheek, sharing a short hug.

Conversation picks up again, a waiter drops off two menus for you and Nico, and you sit back and watch Claudia speak with Katja and Rino in Swiss German. She has so many mannerisms like Timo, from the way she tilts her head when she speaks to the way she fiddles with her hair.

“You two were out there for a while,” Timo says, leaning into you and Nico, lifting his menu up to shield his words from everyone else. Your heart jumps, already knowing where this was going.

“Were we?” Nico says, disinterested and you mentally thank the universe for him and his ability to play aloof. An ability he performs perfectly.

Timo raises an eyebrow, not buying his oldest friend’s innocent act. “We got here 20 minutes ago and you two were parked out there.”

Needing something to do with your hands, you fiddle with the edge of your sweater and give Timo a confused look.

“It wasn’t that long,” you insist, and Nico shakes his head before adding, “You’re terrible with time when you don’t feel good.”

“Oh?” Timo gasps quietly, “you’re not feeling good?”

Clearing your throat, your frown at him, hoping to god it looks genuine. “I just felt a little funky after my scan.”

Timo pouts. “Oh no.”

“Yeah, needed a second to just chill I guess.”

“Mhm,” he nods, sipping his water and looking at you with sympathetic eyes.

“So Nico took care of me.”

“M’sure he did.”

Nico chokes on his spit next to you, caught off guard by the sudden suggestiveness from Timo. He coughs, clearing his throat as you rub at his back and glare at Timo.

“I don’t think you want me to elaborate on that,” you insist and Nico clears his throat again, his hand coming over to rest on your thigh as he shifts uncomfortably in his chair. A teasing grin takes over Timo’s face, but you put a stop to him before he can keep going. “Because then I’ll probably have to go all the way back to when I hung out alone for two hours so you could play lover boy to your teenage sweetheart?”

Timo’s face falls, eyes widening in fear and he glances at Nico, whose grip has suddenly grown stronger on your thigh.

“You left her alone?” Nico demands, and you cover his hand with yours, stroke at the veins on the back of it and over his knuckles. Knuckles that not even an hour ago were buried inside you.

Blinking away the dirty image that’s swirling in your brain, you faux smile at Timo. “I don’t think you really want to explain that one right now, do you?”

He huffs, annoyed with you for bringing up the activities he took place in that day after the ice skating rink. You didn’t even get to meet his girl before he was begging to drop you off at the house for just a couple hours so he could see her.

“You’re evil,” he mutters, and you laugh. You don’t keep anything from Nico, he knows that. If you could, you’d tell Nico about every second of every moment you’ve ever had apart from him. “You two deserve each other, really.”

It’s probably meant as some kind of insult or dig by the way he hisses it, but you and Nico both turn to each other and smile, the same sappy lovesick look on your faces.

~~~~

“What do you feel like eating baby?” Nico asks, flipping open the menu in front of him. You leave yours folded on the table, leaning into his bicep took at his instead and he shifts so you can read it easier.

Instead you can’t read it at all. The entire thing is in French, swirly cursive letters on the card stock pages, and while you can guess what a couple words mean, there’s not even photos of signature dishes or anything.

“Uh Nico,” you say quietly, looking up at him. He hums in acknowledgment, eyes still sweeping over the menu. “I can’t read French.”

An amused smile cracks at his lips, gaze flickering down to you and two dimples sink into his cheeks. “Yeah, I know.” He murmurs. “S’why I asked what you want.”

Sighing, you pinch at his elbow in retaliation before looking back at the menu. You still can’t read it, not that you were expecting to sudden be able to, but Nico gives you a moment to stare at it anyway.

“Pasta?” You ask, hopefully and he points at a list of meals on the right page. “S’got chicken and like a white sauce.” He explains. “Want that one?”

“Yeah,” you agree, lifting your head to press a kiss to his cheek in thanks. His cheek dimples again and he moves to settle his arm on the back of your chair.

Alex says your name quietly, and when you turn to him he’s looking at you with big, puppy eyes. He’s holding him menu in front of him, a shy smile on his face.

“Will you tell Nico to order for me?” He asks sheepishly, and you laugh, agreeing. And then you catch Dawson behind him with that same shy look, and across the table Jack and Luke are staring at you helplessly.

None of them know French either. Good going Nico, you think, trying not to laugh.

“Schoa,” you sing teasingly, “the boys need your help ordering.” Nico sets his menu down, raising an eyebrow as he too looks around the table. Timo is grinning at him, obviously as amused as you are. His siblings and parents seem oblivious to the conversation going on, but Claudia is looking at all of you like she’s watching a show play out in front of her very eyes.

“They’re your kids,” he grumbles, but he’s already grabbing his menu again and leaning forward in his seat. “Timo help those two clowns,” he instructs, nodding towards the brothers.

Timo sighs but doesn’t argue, him and Claudia going about translating the menu to Jack and Luke. Then you’re letting Nico lean over you to tell Alex and Dawson about the food, offering little ooh’s and aah’s when something sounds good.

You realize Nico is telling them about specific foods you know they like. Seafood for Dawson, who is always craving some kind of lobster dish or sushi or really anything that probably has scales at one point. And soups and breads for Alex, anything filling and a lot of carbs because he’s a comfort food kind of person, always.

For as much as he likes to denies caring for the boys and insists that they’re just his workers, just kids following him around, he sure doesn’t act like it. It’s sweet that he knows what they’d want to eat, that while he was reading the menu earlier he had noticed which foods they’d probably get.

It makes your heart shudder painfully in your chest, overwhelmed with feelings that you can’t even explain anymore. It’s so much more than just loving Nico. He’s…everything to you.

You look over to his parents. Rino is looking over his menu, face stoic and unimpressed. Katja has a smile on her face, but it looks more rehearsed than anything real. She’s drinking the wine in her glass, lazily listening to Nina and Luca talk.

How someone so full of life and light, so loving in everything he does came from the relationship existing at the end of the table, you have no idea. But something made him this incredible, this caring so you have to applaud Katja and Rino for that at least.

He’s still debating a meal with Dawson, huffing and sighing as he awkwardly takes up your space but you don’t mind. You reach up, smooth your hands up the back of his dark cardigan and fiddle with the soft strands of hair sticking out of his baseball cap.

Nico doesn’t react, but you can feel the way his body seems to preen under your touch. Across the table, Katja meets your eye and the two of you share secret smiles.

~~~~

Listening to Nico speak French makes you feel like your bones are melting, in the best way possible. Nico’s voice in general has always been nice, deep and manly in a way that scratches at your brain just right. And it’s even more attractive when he’s speaking in Swiss German, his accent making the words sound like beautiful nonsense to you.

But in French…well he just sounds so romantic. If you had to give a voice to the storybook Prince Charming in your head, it’d be Nico in French. The words are soft and sweet, a perfect contrast to the rumble of his voice. Even if you don’t know what he’s saying as he sends the waiter off with a dessert order.

“You don’t know French y/n?”

You’re too busy trying to keep your jaw off the floor to realize Rino, who hasn’t said a word to you all meal, is suddenly addressing you. That is until Nico is looking over at you, lips curling into a smile as he takes in the moony way you’re watching him.

“No she doesn’t,” he answers for you through an amused laugh, and you blink, suddenly recalling that the question was directed at you and not Nico.

“Sorry, no I don’t,” you quickly apologize, face hot with embarrassment. The other Devs boys don’t bat an eye to you going goo-goo eyes at Nico, but you can feel the knowing little looks from Nina and Luca, both of whom have told you they’re not used to seeing Nico all lovey. It makes you feel shy for some reason, like you shouldn’t be letting them see this side of him.

Rino quirks an eyebrow, the expression looking far too similar to Nico’s unimpressed look than you’d prefer. “No German either?”

You shake your head. “My family is Italian, so I grew up speaking that at home and English at school.”

“I forget the American education system disregards languages,” Rino mumbles, then forces a smile. “Our children here learn three languages at school.”

Nico shifts in his seat, stretching his arm across your waist like some kind of protective seatbelt that’ll keep you from his father. His hand is warm and strong on your thigh, reassuring and safe.

“We can go,” he says quietly in your ear, “lunch is over if you want it to be.”

“It’s no problem,” you assure to the table, words more directed at Nico. He squeezes your thigh, eyes searching yours for a moment and when he finds nothing but certainty there, he retreats back into his chair.

“I uh I tried Spanish at school for a while too but I kept getting the words mixed up with Italian. So uh yeah, just the Italian.”

You laugh awkwardly, heart thundering in your chest and you glance at Alex who’s watching you with a furrow between his eyebrows. Then he’s pursing his lips, shoulders back and he looks to Rino.

“It’s a good thing too,” he says, conversationally. “Italian is important in Jersey, she gets a lot of deals done for us because she can speak with the clients.”

Finally, something like genuine curiosity flashes in Rino’s eyes, so quickly you would’ve missed it had you not been staring at him helplessly.

“Nico, you take her on deals?”

Your boyfriend throws an arm around your shoulders, pride glimmering in his eyes as he smirks at his father. “Yeah I do. What’s mine is hers.”

“She’s better at it too,” Luke tosses at Nico, a teasing tone to his words but underneath, you can feel how genuinely he says it. “All the planning and details, Nico’s too impatient for that.”

“Plus he’s a grump,” Jack then adds, and while you always hate when they gripe on Nico, it warms your heart to see them doing it to praise you to Nico’s family.

Dawson is the next to offer his two cents. “And he doesn’t have a college degree, unlike Miss. Ivy Leagues.”

Nico squeezes your shoulder when you shake your head at all the boys, on the verge of politely telling them that none of it’s a big deal. You turn to him, cheeks warm and smile shy but he looks so fucking happy, so proud of you that you can’t bring yourself to counteract all their words.

If Nico can love you that much, can radiate sunshine when talking about you, that’s not something you want to hide. After all, his view of you is all that matters.

“Three languages or not,” he says, “the smartest thing I ever did was getting on your nerves the night we met.”

Tucking into his shoulder, you press a quick but sweet kiss to his neck, wanting to thank him without making everyone at the table groan.

“And letting me play matchmaker,” Timo jokes, winking at you. “God knows he was helpless.”

You can’t help but laugh, knowing that if he had never invited you back to the Rock after you pissed Nico off, you don’t think you’d have ever spoken to him. At the time, you were putting the ball in Nico’s court and waiting to see if he was gonna shoot. He looked like the type to want to make the first move.

You never thought he’d be a pouty, shy guy that needed meddling from his best friend. Otherwise you’d have asked him out the very first night he bought you a drink.

“Alright alright,” you interrupt, smiling gratefully at the boys. “That’s enough teasing. We all know we’re only as good as we are because we have Nico.”

The fearless leader, the man that stepped out on his own with just his name and his teenage friends, and made a family. A family that will always have each others back.

So when Claudia changes the subject, smiling at you as she asks “What’s your family like?” you already know your answer.

“Oh,” you glance at Nico, notice the way he’s biting at the inside of his cheek. He’s wanting to answer for you, wanting to field the topic but he has no idea what to say. He’s waiting for your lead. “This is my family,” you say, smiling shyly at Claudia. “Whatever I had before is nothing compared to my boys.”

Claudia looks taken aback, like she wasn’t expecting such a profound answer to the question. You wish you could tell her that it’s actually simple in your mind. This is your family, no question about it.

“Wow,” she murmurs, looking at you so fondly it makes your chest ache, the child in you selfishly wanting her to suddenly become your mother. To take away all the memories of the woman that raised you and replace them with ones of her, create a childhood in which your best friend was your family. “Smart, sweet, and beautiful. I see how you finally caught Nico.”

“Hey!” Nico whines, childishly.

“You were a bucking bronco, Neeky. We thought you’d always be.”

You laugh, leaning into him and pressing a kiss to his scruffy cheek. If you haven’t proved yourself to Rino yet, oh well. You don’t know what else could be better than knowing his son is safe, loved, and protected by a woman that would do absolutely anything for him.

~~~~

It wasn’t the creaking floor of the hallway that woke you up, nor was it the tiny mutters of “please, please, please” that snuck under the crack of the closed bedroom door.

It was the buzz of a text coming through, three quick blasts of back to back messages. Groggily, you slid your hand under the pillow and pull your phone out, turning it from Nico to keep from waking him.

Blinking against the light, you read the screen.

Holtzy 🐣

Are you awake?

Sorry if I woke you

Open the door?

Confused, it takes you a second to register the sounds of someone outside the door. Once you do though, you’re up, putting your phone back away and gently getting up from the bed.

Nico huffs in his sleep, digs his head further into his pillow. You tiptoe over to the door, cautiously twisting the handle and cracking it open.

Sure enough, Holtzy is quietly pacing in front of the doorway. He’s in his pajama pants and a grey shirt, hair frumpy and awkward on his head. At the sight of you he stops, shoulders dropping in relief.

“Are you ok?” You whisper, stepping into the hall and closing the door partially behind you.

Embarrassed, he stares down at his socks, toes tapping against the hardwood floors.

“Can I uh-can I sleep in here tonight?”

You know better than to ask. Sometimes Holtzy just has rough nights, he can’t sleep or he has dreams that give him anxiety. If there’s one thing you learned from the two months he lived down the hall from you and Nico, it’s better to just let him sort it out how he wants.

And if that entails him squishing in the bed with you and Nico, so be it.

“Yeah, of course.” You murmur, taking ahold of his bicep and squeezing reassuringly. He looks up at you through his eyelashes, eyes sleepy and sad. “Nico is sleeping so be quiet, ok?”

Knowing the drill he nods, and you turn to guide him back into the bedroom with you. Alex quietly closes the door behind him, the click only loud enough to make Nico shift on the mattress.

On light feet, you pad back to the king sized bed, lifting the blankets on your half and sliding in all the way to the middle. You had previously been tucked into Nico’s side right there, so to make room for the new addition you softly card your fingers through Nico’s hair.

He stirs, eyebrows pinching together in annoyance. “Nico baby, scoot over for me, yeah?”

He grumbles something you don’t understand, lips smacking as he rolls to his side and you hold the side of his face.

“Please baby, can you slide over a bit?”

Finally he moves, shuffling over onto his side of the bed and you go with him. Not that you had much of a choice when he locked his arm over your middle and took you with him.

Alex climbs into the bed, tucking into the pillow you had previously been sleeping on. You pull the blankets over him, settling back into Nico’s bicep. Your boyfriend grumbles something again, tucking his head into your neck and curling into your body.

You roll onto your side, let Nico fit himself to your back and wait a couple moments until his breath evens out again.

“Are you comfortable?” You whisper to Alex and he moves onto his side to face you.

“Yeah.” He tucks his hands under his cheek, eyes blinking sluggishly and you pull the covers up to his shoulder so he doesn’t get cold.

“Pull the blankets if you get chilled,” you say, pushing his tangled hair back as best as you can without yanking on a knot. “Nico’s like a furnace, he doesn’t need them.”

A tiny smile tugs at his lips. “I run warm too ya know?”

“I know,” you murmur, “but just in case you run cold tonight, ok?”

Alex nods, takes a deep breath and lets his eyes flutter shut as he exhales. “Thanks,” he mumbles lowly, like he’s already half asleep. “I don’t know how any of us lived without you.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, his sweet words kicking it into overdrive. Smiling, you watch him for a moment to make sure he falls asleep and you can’t help but think of Nico’s mother.

How her and Rino ran Switzerland like a business, you don’t know. Because there’s no way you could look at any of the boys here, especially Alex and not love them like family.

Thank god Nico inherited some rare Hischier gene that gave him the big and sweet heart he has. He may not openly act like it, but you know he loves the boys like they’re his blood brothers.

Sleep muddled thoughts trail off and you can’t help but think of this same scenario in the future, when the boy crawling into bed with you two has Nico’s dark eyebrows and straight nose. Maybe it’s not a he but instead a she, and her eyes will sparkle like his and her lips will hold that petulant pout he has.

And they’ll tiptoe to your bed at night, wake you up with tiny fingers and teary cheeks as they whisper, careful to not wake Nico because he’s a grump. But when you let them under the covers they’ll wiggle their way over to him, snuggle into his broad chest and thick arms because he’s the safest place in the world for them to be.

As if being summoned by your thoughts, Nico stirs against your back, leaning in and planting a kiss against the side of your neck. You’re not expecting him to be awake so the movement startles you.

Even more so when he presses his mouth in close to your ear and clear as day asks, “He ok?”

You realize Nico hasn’t been sleeping, at least not since you moved him over in bed and he heard you tucking Alex in.

“Yeah,” you whisper, nudging him with your foot until he moves over enough for you to turn to face him.

His eyes are puffy and dark, framed by those permanent frown lines of his but he looks awake, alert. You trace your fingertips over his jaw, let his beard tickle the pads of them.

“He’s right ya know?” Nico murmurs, his gaze sweeping over your face fondly. “I don’t know how I lived without you.”

Shy and tired, your hand falls to the side of his neck, fingers loosely holding him. You blink slowly, feel your chest warm under the heat of his words.

“You’ll never have to again Schao,” you promise, closing your eyes to get away from the lovesick look in his eyes.

Nico doesn’t say anything, just leans in a presses a kiss to your forehead. You throw your leg over his thighs, curl into his chest and fall into dreams of him holding mini versions of you and him just like this.

You don’t remember Nico getting up. Usually you’re good at feeling him stir, forcing your eyes open when he unravels his arms from around you and gets up.

It’s not until his hefty weight is laying on top of you that you realize the body laying on his side of the bed, with their arm slung over your middle, is in fact not Nico.

“Baby,” he calls, voice barely a whisper. A grumbled noise of acknowledgment rumbles out of your lips, eyelashes fluttering as you try to fight against sleep.

Nico gently shushes you, soft and warm lips pressing to yours with a feather light touch. He smells like toothpaste and aftershave, the familiar scent making you blink your eyes open.

The sight makes you gasp.

He’s crowded over your body, feet hanging off the mattress and elbows bracketing your body. Damp hair is combed back, a single wet strand stuck to his forehead. But that’s not what’s got your attention, and neither are his beautiful brown eyes or dimpled cheeks.

He’s shaved.

The full and dark beard he’d been sporting since the hospital, thick hair beginning to trail down his neck messily but hotly, is all gone.

Well not entirely, but he trimmed most of it and shaved it down. All except the stupid strip of facial hair above his upper lip. That he’s left untouched.

“You shaved?” You croak out, cupping his face in your hands. His cheeks are smooth, soft and warm under your fingertips. Unintentionally, you pout.

“I trimmed,” he defends, shifting his weight into his left elbow and covering your hand with his now free one. “And cleaned up a bit.”

You’re probably being dramatic, but you’re tired and confused and completely caught off guard with his sudden grooming. So it’s really not your fault when water collects in your eyes, sniffling through a stuffy nose.

“Oh my god are you crying?”

“No!” You argue, outraged at the entirely true accusation and your shout has the body lying next to you stirring. Both you and Nico freeze, eyes shifting over to look at Holtzy. He’s asleep in his stomach, hands shoved under the pillow and cheek pressed into the bunched up fabric.

You’re even more caught off guard when a body on Nico’s side of them bed moves too. Bewildered, you look over to find Jack taking up the space that Nico previously occupied. He’s sprawled out on his back, hands clutching the blanket to his chin and mouth hanging open.

“If you wake them I’ll kill you,” Nico mutters, a playfulness in his whispered words. You let go of his face, knuckling at your sleepy eyes and moving to sit up.

Your boyfriend follows, gently slipping off the mattress so you can awkwardly slip out from under the covers and rise to your feet. Wobbling, you clutch the headboard with a wince when the whole bed shutters.

Alex simply snorts, digging his head further into the pillow, and then Nico is leaning over with outstretched arms. You cling to him, squeezing your eyes shut and curling yourself into a ball as he heaves you over Jack’s sleeping form.

“When did he get here?” You whisper after your toes are back on the ground, gesturing to Jack.

“After I got in the shower I guess.” Nico replies, keeping his words down too. “I thought you knew.”

Blinking a couple times, you shake your head and decide to just forget about it, though it is a little concerning that you didn’t hear him come in at all.

Nico ducks his head down, catching your lips in a short but sweet kiss. You cup his face again, a small noise of protest squeaking out of your throat when you’re reminded of the nice and clean beard he’s now sporting. And the stupid mustache that’s not entirely a mustache.

“M’trying to say good morning,” Nico mumbles against your lips, “don’t be a brat. It’ll grow back.”

You scoff, pulling back just enough to have his eyes fluttering open, eyebrows pinching in displeasure. Lips parting to argue, Nico cuts you off with a nip at your bottom lip.

“Now’s not the time for arguing baby,” he says sweetly, tilting his head towards bed. “Don’t wanna wake the kids do you?”

Something warm drips onto the top of your head, trickles down your spine and all the way to your toes. You melt, heart shuddering excitedly in your chest and you have to bite your tongue to keep from making whatever pathetic noise was bubbling happily in your throat.

The kids. Nico called the boys the kids. Kids as in his and yours. Not just yours anymore. That used to be his favorite tease, telling you that the younger boys were your kids whenever they decide to annoy him.

Now, suddenly they’re his too. You can’t even begin to explain how that feels to hear. All you can really come up with is right. It feels right for him to say that.

Oh god, you need to talk to Timo right now.

~~~~

Your knuckles rap against Timo’s door, more urgent and harsh than you meant and you wince when the hasty sounds of someone scrambling on the other side squeak out from under the crack of the door.

Timo barely has time to open the door before you’re pushing in, shoving him back by the chest. Glancing around the lower hallway for Nico, you close and lock the door when you’re certain he’s still outside getting more fire wood.

“Jesus warn a fella would ya?” Timo cries, rubbing at his shoulder as he plops down on the rolling desk chair.

“You would say the word fella.”

He tilts his head, unamused. “What do you want?”

Remembering why you’re here in the first place, you sit on the edge of his bed, folding your legs over each other. “Nico called the boys the kids.”

Timo laughs softly, resting his elbows on his knees and shrugging his hands out. “He does that all the time.”

“No like our kids.” You clarify, eyes widening as you emphasize Nico’s words. “Not my kids, he said it like they were ours.”

You expect Timo’s jaw to drop, his eyebrows to raise in shock, maybe even throw his head back with surprise. This is Nico, who has never in life let anyone get away with joking about the boys being his kids. He ignores Luke and Jack when they call him papa or dad, he calls you a single mom when the boys refer you to as mother figure. Sure it’s said in a joking matter, but Nico has never given the impression that he wants to be seen as a father figure right now.

Timo’s face scrunches into a wince, leaning back in his chair and you stare at him in confusion. “What just happened here? Why are you making that face?”

He opens his mouth, closes it, sighs. Struggling for something to say, he finally settles on “you didn’t see that coming?”

“This is Nico we’re talking about.”

“Yeah but it’s also you, and Nico wants to be a part of everything you’re a part of.”

Of course you knew that. You know he’d do anything, follow you anywhere to always be with you. Just like you would and have done for him. But this is different. Every conversation you’ve ever had about kids and a family with him was spoken about in the terms of the future. Not tomorrow or a week from now or even months. It was always years.

Nico bringing this up now is just….

You don’t even know. It’s not like a family with him isn’t something you want, but you definitely don’t want it right now. You want to be his fiancée first, live in a bubble of knowing he loves you enough to marry you. And you want to be his wife first too, see how the role fits and your relationship changes.

You have to learn how to be a good wife before you can even think of being a mother with him.

“He’s just-I mean he hasn’t even proposed yet and now he’s doing this? Is he like trying to see if I freak out or something?”

Ironically, now Timo’s jaw drops and he blinks at you like you’ve just uttered some unspoken or forbid secret. “He told you he’s gonna propose?”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you examine his body langue. He doesn’t look surprised at all, not caught off guard by your words one bit.

“You knew!” You accuse.

Timo points a finger at you, exclaiming, “How do you even know?”

“Well he kind of already asked.”

“What? How? When?”

You shrug, trying to act casual and innocent. “After we had sex on the living room rug when you went to spend time with your mom.”

It’s comical the way his nose scrunches in disgust, eyebrows pinching together. It’s however, quickly wiped away with a look of utter disappointment.

“Oh god, he asked you during sex didn’t he?”

“After? Kinda?”

Timo shakes his head, squeezes his eyes shut like it actually pains him to hear that, like he physically can’t stand the idea of that being his proposal.

“I swear for being so smart he’s fucking stupid,” you try not to laugh even though it’s true. “I mean tell me he at least wasn’t still-ya know?” Timo makes a motion with his hands, thrusting them outwards.

You blink, confused and unamused by this turn in conversation. “I have no idea what that means.”

“Oh for fucks sake was he still inside you?”

Thinking back, you try to recall everything that happened that day but it was a rough one for you. Particularly the fighting with Nico and then the whole getting kidnapped thing and not having any memory for a bit there.

You can picture him clear as day though, laying next to you when he suggested marriage. No matter how many times Lena hits you in the head, you don’t think you’d ever forget that.

“No he wasn’t, he was just…holding me.” Your tone softens at the end, lips fighting to curl up and you grab the throw pillow from his bed, hugging it to your fluttering stomach.

Timo’s smile is sweet. “You two are disgusting.”

And that kills the mood. Frowning, you throw the pillow at him. “Come on, you’re supposed to be helping me with this!”

“I am!” He laughs, chucking the pillow back. You catch it easily, setting it in your lap and picking at the corners of it

“You’ve said nothing of note.”

“Ok, ok,” he relents, running a hand down his face as he thinks. “First of all, never say yes to a proposal if you or anyone in the room is naked.”

You roll your eyes, motioning for him to move on.

“Second, just give him a break ok? He’s-there’s a lot he’s trying to figure out right now.”

Bristling, you frown at him. “What does that mean?”

Timo groans, exasperated. “Look his-and don’t say I told you this-“ he waits for you to nod in agreement before continuing. “-his proposal to you kinda got hijacked and he might be freaking out trying to redo it.”

Redo it. Timo didn’t know about Nico asking you that day you were taken. Which means he knew of another plan Nico had, one that failed.

You think of how much Nico begged you that day when you were fighting, how even came off angry when asking you to just let things go for now. He didn’t want to fight with you, he didn’t want space from you.

And how upset, how unlike himself he was the day after. Where he’s usually strong headed and solid, he was stubborn and unyielding in a way that made you want to yank your hair out. He was freaking out and the only way Nico can show emotions he’s not used to having is by taking control.

He was going to propose, you realize, fingers finding the metal of your pendant, tracing over the metal of the ring. Nico must have one, an engagement one. One that he picked out and bought himself. Not the family heirloom ring, the one that he didn't care about because even without it he was going to marry you.

This whole trip was about him wanting to propose. It wasn’t a one off, heat of the moment thing when he asked you. He had been thinking about it, planning it, and most importantly trying to do it in a place that means so much to him.

How are you ever going to fix the mess that you know is spinning around in that pretty little head of his?

#nico hischier #mob boss nico hischier #him and i #nj devils #fluff #smut #Nico hischier smut

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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months ago

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Proud V

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Summary: Your first match for Sweden

"And Sweden is making a substitute. On comes y/n Harder, Arsenal's youngest forward. Blackstenius makes way."

It's your first match for Sweden, the first of Sweden's euro qualifiers as well.

You high five Stina on your way onto the pitch.

It's a late substitution, maybe five minutes or so until the ninety minutes are up so you know you're the last kind of hail mary before this ends in a draw.

You pass some of your Arsenal teammates on the way to the corner that's being set up.

It's hardly the first time you've worn a Sweden jersey. You were a staple on the youth teams. You always had been.

Your first long term foster family had gotten you into football. They'd sorted you out with kit and gear and put you into a kid's football club to see if you liked it.

You really liked it.

Their foster license expired and you got moved but you never left your football behind.

Some families were more into it than others but none of them stopped you from pursuing your football.

Least of all Magda and Pernille.

You knew Magda from a distance when the senior team had come down to help out with whatever youth team you were on at the time. It was almost like fate that you got placed with her and Pernille over the summer.

It had been the best summer of your life both emotionally and physically.

They worked on your game while they were off season. They helped you with your studies and they took you out to the arcade and the beach and anywhere you wanted to go.

You didn't want to leave.

They didn't want you to leave.

There was a bunch of red tape around it, lots of meetings with lawyers and the judge and your care worker but by the time the next season rolled around, you had a new last name and two mothers.

Now, you're here.

Playing in Wembley Stadium for Sweden with Momma's last name emblazoned on your back.

You weave between Morsa and Johanna, slotting between them during the jostling to get into position.

The ball comes in and you make the jump.

It gets cleared away and England are on the counter attack quickly.

Magda peels away from your side quickly to sprint down the pitch to intercept while you follow at a more sedate pace.

Defending is not your role and you're not the greatest at it.

You've been bought onto this pitch for one thing and that's to score a goal.

You pass Lotte on your way and exchange a small smile with her. You've still got to go back to North London after this and you and Lotte are friends.

Morsa recovers the ball quickly and boots it up the pitch.

Most of your team was concentrated in your half of the pitch so the ball falls neatly to your feet.

You can feel Lotte at your back quickly, almost too quick for you to react but you turn even quicker, keeping the ball out of her reach.

You don't have any backup as you drive forward into the box.

Greenwood slides in for the tackle but you jump over neatly with the ball practically attached to your feet.

Charles and Bronze start closing in as you lose Lotte behind you.

The angle's getting tighter and tighter and Earps starts coming towards you to collect the ball.

You've driven into the box so quickly that there were no reinforcements for you to pass to.

So, you kicked the ball upwards just as Earps comes out.

The ball sores over her head before landing and rolling into the empty goal.

The Sweden supporters go wild as, seconds later, the ref blows the final whistle.

You scored.

The familiar arms of Morsa wraps around you from behind as you celebrate.

"Debut goal!" She cheers as the rest of the team finally run over.

You laugh. "Do you think Momma was watching?"

Of course she was.

She couldn't travel to watch, not with preparing for her own Euro qualifiers but your phone is ringing by the time you get back to the locker room.

"Hi," You say as you pick up, Pernille's face filling the screen.

"Debut goal," She teases and you look down bashfully.

"That's what Morsa said."

"It's impressive," Pernille says.

You roll your eyes. "It's my job."

"Still impressive. Don't sell yourself short."

"I'm a Harder," You reply," It's what we do."

Pernille grins at you, face full of pride. "Don't do that," She says," Celebrate, alright? You have my full permission to let loose and drink tonight, alright?"

You huff out a laugh. "You know most mothers wouldn't encourage underage drinking."

"I think I can make an exception tonight."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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mushroomates · 3 months ago

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the fellowship grocery shopping (modern au!):

frodo: has a list which he always loses halfway through shopping. tries to bring his own bags but they’re never enough, or he forgets them in the car and realizes mid checkout. does not like a lot of the name brand foods, goes for the knock offs- partly because he thinks they taste better and partly because he’s rooting for the underdog. (also they’re cheaper which means more money go towards buying treats for the neighborhood cats.) makes an exception for name brand strawberry poptarts, a pippin favorite. keeps his fridge stocked with snacks for his friends.

sam: grows a lot of his own produce and makes an effort to shop local. has his own chickens and a thriving herb garden. he often trades with neighbors-tomatoes for honey, basil for goats milk, etc. once a month he teams up with boromir and goes to costco for insane amounts of flour (he bakes his own bread) and a foot long hotdog. sam refuses to get his own membership.

merry: has a list of things to get that he has worked very hard to compile. this list stays on fridge, and whenever he runs out of something he adds it. this is always sabotaged by pippin who, in a port attempt to mimic merry’s handwriting, adds a copious amount of sweets and things only pippin likes. ends up buying them anyways only to not share with him- will gloat by snacking in front of pippin and not offering any to his cousin.

pippin: does not actually grocery shop. yes, he has food in his house but this is more because he just tags along whenever someone else is going. selectively copies whatever they get into his own basket. has eight jars of peanut butter because he loves peanut butter but does not consume it at the rate he believes he does. also for backup, incase he runs out mid sandwich and needs eight jars of the stuff. loves to ride in the shopping carts when no one’s watching. definitely scooters along isles. loves to hijack boromir’s shopping trips as boromir is the only one who will push him in the cart and give him a lil treat at the end.

gandalf: kind of just. wanders around the store. gets lost in the bakery. buys the most random things, causing the clerks to conspire about what he’s doing with two packs of rubber gloves, a rosterseie chicken, and a tub of mayonnaise. is he a murderer? a professor? a single mother? what is he doing with this stuff?

aragorn: does a lot of trading with neighbors, like sam. likes to accompany arwen on errands and do the little things. she points at an item and he puts it in the basket. he bags at checkout. drives her home. unloads the car and put it away. real quality time and acts of service. yes, arwen is capable of doing these things herself, but he likes to do it for her: hunts so be always has a surplus of jerky, does need to buy more salt then the typical person.

boromir: also hunts. has a thing about using every part of the animal, will eat bone marrow straight out of the femur with a spoon for breakfast. eats a lot of protein. is real big about no food waste and will use everything he can. has his own compost bin and a humble herb garden. likes hosting barbecues for everyone, and makes the burgers and hotdogs from scratch. every other tuesday is grocery day. he goes to costco and buys his things in bulk. he’s the only one in the fellowship with a costco card and everyone loves to take advantage of it.

legolas: mainly just happens upon farmers markets and grabs what appeals to him in the moment. does not have any seasonings or cooking oil as it’s not something that’s ever really occurred to him to buy. will forget he has food in his fridge for weeks and when he finally does it’s gone bad. this, however, does not stop him from eating it. makes a lot of smoothies.

gimli: has a lot of preserved foods and a cupboard dedicated to emergencies. owns a lot of canned beans, fruits and vegetables- anything that will keep well. has a freezer filled with food in his garage with backup stock. is a very good with coupons- pippin likes going with him just to see the total (and the clerks jaw) drop. eats a lot of trail mix and jerky. enjoys fresh fruit when he can but doesn’t like to buy it because it doesn’t last.

gollum: sneaky little man. he hides in the bottom part of the carts meant for heavy items and parties his way across the store with his hands, scooting along tile and grabbing anything with reach, tossing it back up to the cart and continuing on his journey. then he just rolls right out the door. no one can stop him.

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barcaatthemoon · 2 months ago

Text

always || kim little x reader ||

You and Kim would always have each other, no matter what.

Your mother was an absolute lifesaver. Today, you started your first day as a football commentator for the WSL. Sports journalism had always been your backup plan, not believing yourself to be a good enough leader to be a coach. Since it was your first day, you had to leave hours earlier than Kim did to get ready.

Still, Kim hadn't wanted to just leave your two year old home alone, so she had dropped him off with your mother on her way to the stadium. A game at Emirates was a big deal, and for you to be making your commentary debut was also huge. You were so nervous, more so than you had been in years for anything else.

Technically, it was nothing new to you to give a bit of commentary here and there. However, now this wasn't just something you did while you waited to get over an injury or your pregnancy. This was your job now that you had retired from football on a club and international level. Kim was excited for you, but it was weird having this be the first season at Arsenal where your name wasn't on any list.

The game itself went well, and you were absolutely elated to announce your wife's early goal. Even better for you was pointing out the celebration that puzzled a few people meant for your son. If you had been given the view of the crowd, you knew for certain that he was mirroring Kim's movements. He wanted to be just like her, Kim was his hero.

After the game, you were free to go down to the field. You had done little interviews with the players before, but now you got to take your son and spend some time with your wife. Kim had taken your son already, and several of the players were running around with him in a circle.

"Oh wow," Kim muttered under her breath as you approached. "You look beautiful, absolutely breathtaking."

You blushed heavily as Kim pulled you in for a kiss. You kissed her back, only breaking the kiss to tell her, "Years later, and you still make me blush."

"It's easy to be charming with you," Kim said. You kept yourself wrapped around you wife, resting your head on top of hers. The two of you stood and watched your son play with her teammates. It was hard to think about, but there would soon come a day whenever neither of you would be a part of this team anymore. You'd keep your friends from it, but there was something else about it that you knew Kim would miss dearly.

"Mumma look!" Both you and Kim looked at your son. She smiled as he tackled the ball away from Jordan to pass it over to Lia.

"He's gonna be the best midfielder in the world one day," you mumbled as you pressed a kiss to Kim's cheek. There had once been a time whenever you had been hopeful that your boy would come out a natural goalkeeper, but Kim's influence on him was too strong. You didn't mind though, not when you got to see the love shared between them firsthand. If there was anybody in the world Kim loved more than you, it was your boy.

"He could change his mind. Someone will come along one day that he finds cooler than me." Kim sounded sad as she spoke, so you turned her around in your arms to give her a kiss. Years ago, you never would have even thought of kissing Kim in public. You'd been caught up in professionalism, but now, all you wanted to do was shout your love for her from every rooftop in London. It was wild to you how quickly a few things could change like that.

"Well, even if he's not obsessed with you anymore, I always will be," you told her. Kim laughed at that, remembering the way you used to follow her around. It had taken years of teasing and encouragement from Jen and a couple of your other teammates for you to finally let any moves be made with Kim. "I may have started a new job, but I'll always be your number one cheerleader."

"Yeah? Well, I can't wait to tell everybody about my very hot wife who talks about how great I am on TV," Kim said. There was a teasing lilt to her voice. You rolled your eyes and brushed off the comment, only to later check tweets about the game to learn that Kim didn't have to say anything to anybody. Everybody already knew about your relationship, and they were eating up the way that you spoke about Kim's playstyle and the rest of your friends at Arsenal.

#woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #kim little x reader #kim little imagine

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arjudy224 · 20 days ago

Text

Chemical Valley

(The Intern x Red Hood)

After the unsettling reminder of her past, Y/N has been avoiding vigilantes for the last few months. However, Dr. Harris has requested backup in the form of Gotham's newest crime lord. What could go wrong?

The Intern Collection:

Prequel: Death of a family

The Intern: Day one

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

The Intern: Busy Work

The Intern: Outreach Gala

The Intern: Visiting an old friend

The Intern: Chemical Valley

The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club

I'm getting real sick of risking my life for a minimum-wage job. Driving around with Dr. Harris is one thing, but since when did the job description list teaming up with crime lords? I mean it's the Red Hood for Christ's sake. Dr. Harris gives me a protective smile from the driver's seat.

"Don't worry about Red Hood. He knows what he's doing." He starts sensing my apprehension. "Besides, he owes me a favor."

I nod with a nervous smile. Red Hood is the only vigilante that I've never interacted with. He only recently appeared in Gotham. From what I've heard on the streets, he isn't exactly on great terms with Batman.

"All due respect... hasn't he killed people? " I question glancing around the lonely alleyway.

Growing silent, Harris contemplates his response.

"Not recently." He says with what is supposed to be a comforting pat on the shoulder.

Trying to ignore the anxiety creating knots across my gut, I reply with more enthusiasm than I feel.

"Oh well... that's progress."

Harris laughs.

"It's Gotham dear. It's hard to find someone who hasn't committed murder. I wouldn't worry too much about the Hood though. If you can befriend Waylon, a little boy in a helmet is the least of your worries. "

I raise an eyebrow.

"You wanna elaborate?"

He smiles sweetly. I narrow my eyes.

"Don't ask questions that you don't want to know the answers to."

That shuts me up. We sit in silence for a few minutes while I contemplate what he just said. Dr. Harris isn't exactly wrong... Glancing at the time clock on the dashboard, I frown. I guess vigilantes aren't known for being punctual, but at least Nightwing was on time. Considering our history, maybe we were both eager to see each other again. I try to focus on the cool air dusting across my face.

A swift knock causes me to jump. The infamous Red Hood almost cartoonishly waves at me from the outside the window. My nervous heart patters like a hummingbird. Eyeing his bike, I sigh. It was silent... Of course, it was silent. What kind of muffler does he have on that thing?

Harris rolls down the window.

"Good morning. Thank you for meeting us."

Leaning on the car door, Red Hood asks in a deep voice

"What do you have for me Dr.?"

"Routine inspection of Ace chemicals. Normally, I wouldn't worry about having a backup, but with an uptick in Joker sightings... I figured it would be better to be safe than sorry."

Hood nods, then glances in my direction.

"I'll keep an eye out."

"Y/N L/N," I say introducing myself, "But most people call me L/N."

"Weren't you the one who convinced the Riddler to let you go in exchange for inspecting his lair for asbestos?" Hood asks with a tone of pride.

I smile while shaking his hand. Word must get around quick.

"Yeah, that's me. He didn't even ask me any riddles. The poor man was terrified."

Dr. Harris whips his head around.

"Why haven't I heard about this?" He demands.

I flash him a shit-eating grin.

"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to Dr. Maybe Metropolis hasn't made me so soft after all."

Before he can start lecturing me, I step out of the car to face my new bodyguard. Keeping my eyes trained on the ground. I sidestep the hulking mammoth of a man.

"Thank you for dropping me off Dr., but I'm sure "Little" Red and I can take it from here."

From the Driver's seat, Harris watches me with a hint of pride.

"This is not the last time we will be discussing this."

"I look forward to the debrief," I remark as he pulls away.

The ACE chemicals manufacturing plant towers over the surrounding buildings. The smoke stacks excrete a dark sticky aerosol that trickles down from above. Its gothic structure makes it look like something out of a Tim Burton film. Taking a step near the external shutter, I drag my index finger across. My glove smears a damp power off revealing the old white paint. An uncomfortable sensation settles in my chest.

There is no way this amount of air pollution is legal.

After my second round of coughing, Red Hood offers me a disposable face mask. I gratefully take it. The neon green sign serves as a haunting reminder that somehow this has passed inspection. My eyebrows narrow. We passed several kids on the way here. What does that do to someone? No wonder Dr. Harris mentioned childhood asthma. I'm more concerned about the long-term exposure to industrial solvents.

Glancing at Red Hood, I state

"There is no way this is legal."

Red Hood stays quiet for a moment. Adjusting his helmet, he replies

"The law can be anything you want as long as you kill the inspectors who challenge you."

My mouth falls open. A thousand questions flood my mind.

"Somebody must have tried."

Hood tilts his head while glancing between us and the doors.

"Somebody did try."

Tossing me a key card over his shoulder, he continues, "You can visit them in Arkham if you want."

I flounder to catch the key card. It takes a few moments to register his words. Them as in more than one? Or is he concealing their identity? By the time my brain focuses, I stand in the alley alone staring up at a sign for a trading card company.

Isn't that where the Joker.... Oh hell no...

Stumbling through the stained doors, a bubbly man contrasts the bleak external welcome. As he rambles, I analyze the faded posters nailed to the wall. Dr. Harris briefly mentioned the factory's history of producing bioweapons during the Second World War. Hazardous feels like an understatement. I nodd along with the pleasant man, yet something in my gut tells me to keep my eyes and ears open.

Walking past a dust cloud, my lungs contract. Unable to steady myself, I sneak down a back hall to take my inhaler. The rambling man continues down the other hallway completely oblivious to my absence. I tear the disposable mask off my face. Searching my pockets for the familiar medication, my heart drops. Of course, I left it in the car.

I sink into a seated position once the dizziness sets in. Do. Not. Panic. We cannot do that again. No more emergency room trips. A pair of boots emerges from the shadows.

"Are you alright?"

I nodd while focusing on each labored breath.

"Sometimes, I really hate this city." I wheeze clutching my chest.

Red Hood lets out a dry laugh before taking a seat next to me.

"I have something that might help, but you have to trust me."

A small inhaler makes its way into my left hand. Squinting, a small Bat engraving stares up at me. I give him an incredulous glance. There is no fucking way that Batman has a pharmacy.

"It works. I promise."

Reluctantly, I take two puffs. We sit in silence for a few minutes. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. I relish the first full breath of air in days. My lungs expand completely. It is glorious.

"How is your friendship with Killer Croc?"

The immense pain that weighs on my chest lessens slightly.

"I'm sure Waylon wouldn't use the word friend. "

I open my eyes to look at him. Spots litter my vision. The sticky residue has left grime all over his mask. I hesitate.

"Waylon has lost everything... Everyone really. All he really needed was a friend."

Hood stays silent weighing out my words.

"What factory did they make you in?" He questions.

I can almost hear a smile in his voice.

"The same one that kicked you out for defects." I retort staring at the white paint peeling on the far left wall.

Considering the age of this building, I really hope that's not lead paint.

"Touché, Ms. Friendship. Touché"

I give him a friendly shove.

"You know, you aren't as bad as your reputation suggests."

He laughs climbing to his feet.

"I wouldn't go that far. Usually, I'm a dick."

"Better a dick than a sociopath," I say dusting off the black power on my pants.

"Damn Metropolis. Who have you been talking to?"

I shrug.

"It's Gotham. "

After a few moments of friendly silence, he asks

"You ready to find Mr. Optimistic?"

I nodd allowing him to pull me to my feet. Enjoying the comfortable silence, I open the door for him once we make it down the hall. To my surprise, Red Hood slams me against a wall before covering my mouth. Paralyzed in shock, I don't fight him. The Red Bat insignia stares at me. The soft aroma of his cologne catches me off guard. It's nice. Very musky. There's something so... familiar about it. I suddenly feel my face go red. There is no way I am evaluating how good a CRIMINAL smells. Get a grip girl.

Ignoring my mental crisis, Red Hood leads the two of us out the back door. Stumbling out the door behind him, I bend over holding my knees for stability. This is a lot of cardio for a regular inspection.

"What the hell was that about dude?" I hiss in between breaths.

Red Hood doesn't say anything.

"I know you are trying for the strong and silent type, but I think this partnership would benefit from open communication."

Standing up tall, a gunman aims a pistol directly at my temple.

Oh.. That's why.

Tag list: @nosyrobin, @jjsmeowthie, @epicy0n,@gaychaosgremlin, @rory-cakes, @luna-zendra-star

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wheneverfeasible · 5 months ago

Text

Cheerleader!Eddie AU pt. 1

POV: Eddie

When Eddie found a sobbing Chrissy in the restrooms after school, where he had been about to tag some stupid shit about one of the football players who had left him with a bruised face a previous week, he hadn’t expected it to lead to them becoming friends, her breaking up with her shithead boyfriend, or him joining the cheer squad.

Yet here he is, wearing the stupid school colors and his long hair tied up in a ponytail to match Chrissy’s, even down to the identical green scrunchie. Chrissy was lucky he loved her. Platonically, of course. They’d kissed after everything, figuring that’s that the thing between them was, but it ended up being like kissing a sibling (or so Eddie guessed, not ever having had one before), but quickly discovered that whatever middle school crush might have existed was well and truly gone.

Everything else was just right, however, and if such a thing as platonic soulmates existed, then Chrissy was well and truly his. She had to be, to get him to agree to this stupid shit.

He wasn’t an official member of the cheer squad at first, nothing more than a glorified backup, but he helped her in all the practices and learned all the moves and somehow, without realizing when, he started performing at games and pep rallies. Which didn’t help the queer rumors from spreading, even when Chrissy acted like his beard at first. Because the rumors would have been galling if they hadn’t been true.

Don’t get him wrong; he liked chicks too. But there was something to be said about seeing a pretty boy on his knees.

He played it up, taunting the other team and his own with blown kisses and suggestive hand motions with his tongue in his cheek, but he had cheerleader privilege, and Chrissy’s best friend privileges, so he actually managed to avoid anything more than pointed words and threats, which he then always turned into a kink thing to make the jocks uncomfortable.

“Oh, you’re right, Princess, I look amazing on my knees,” he cooed with a wink when King Steve himself deigned to be one of the insulting masses. Of course, all Harrington had said was that he should stop messing around and get back under the pyramid during cheer practice instead of poking fun at the basketball players on the other side of the gym.

Harrington always flushed whenever Eddie got too weird, too freaky, too queer, and it was quickly becoming one of his favorite things. Chrissy teased him about it when he’d go out of his way to harass Harrington, telling him to stop pulling the king’s pigtails, which he vehemently denied doing.

No way. Nuh uh. Not King Steve. Gag him with a spoon, or whatever they said in the movies Chrissy always made him watch.

Soon Harrington started snapping back, however, but with an amused smile on his face. More than that, he’d snapped at Hagan to leave Gareth alone when he’d come to playfully jeer at Eddie until they could head to Hellfire together. (Chrissy had actually taken DnD up too eventually, much to everyone’s surprise, though it was less surprising than her Level 7 Chaotic Neutral homebrew half-Orc male Barbarian whose tragic backstory was only known to Eddie so far, seeing as he had helped her craft Uragoth the Undaunted.)

To say that Eddie was surprised when Harrington of all people protected a freak was an understatement. And then it kept happening. Harrington always stepped in if he saw any freak or nerd being bullied, he even used logic, pointing out that Eddie was both freak and cheerleader, so going after the freaks was going after him and the cheer squad, and did any jock really want to piss off the cheerleaders?

A jock using logic? Unheard of!

Eddie was a little flattered though to think that his freaks had best friend privileges as well because of him, that he could be the shield offering them protection simply by straddling the line between the two sects at school.

Harrington never stopped snarking with Eddie, however, always calling him a freak but always with that smile that almost spoke of something…fond.

And then it was the day of the big game, the championship, and Chrissy was giggling as she tried to pretend like she was having second thoughts, even as her hands never faltered getting him ready. They, and the rest of the squad who had slowly warmed up to Eddie, had scoured the rule book to make certain he could do it, smirking amongst themselves at the surprise they had in stock.

Eddie waited at the end of the line, waited for their introduction, and then he was running in with the rest of the cheer squad, his pale and hairy legs flashing beneath the short green skirt. Gareth and the rest of the freaks screamed, sending out wolf whistles and making enough noise to draw the attention of anyone who might not have noticed yet.

Eddie only had eyes for one person though.

Harrington’s gaze was fixed solely on him as he jogged out wearing the female cheerleading uniform, a bright pink high on cheekbones and his mouth agape, and Eddie thought he had even seen the guy swallow as his eyes took in Eddie in a skirt.

The game went exactly as the cheer squad had hoped, their secret routine putting Eddie front and center, and he took great enjoyment in rolling his hips suggestively and blowing his kisses and winks as he taunted the opposing team, resulting in more than one fumble when he distracted them. The fact that Harrington seemed equally distracted seemed something else entirely.

As well as the fact that Harrington roughly fouled the player from the other team that Eddie had pointedly flirted with during their halftime routine.

Hawkins Tigers won in the end, easily, with Harrington scoring the final winning points like the king he was, pointing at Eddie right before he took the shot with a wink. Eddie rolled his eyes, almost hoping Harrington would miss in retaliation for the tease. Instead, Harrington ended the game as the buzzer sounded with his last three-pointer and the crowd went wild.

Typical.

Less typical, however, was how Harrington strode through the crowd right after, bypassing the celebrating teammates and cheerleaders and fans that had streamed onto the court, to head straight for Eddie. Eddie was given just the barest moment to wonder if he was about to be hate crimed when Harrington’s hand landed on his back, the other cupping the back of his head, and he was spun into a dip as Harrington leaned in for a kiss.

Except Harrington didn’t immediately kiss him, he hovered above his lips, his eyes looking into Eddie’s asking for permission, and really…what more could Eddie do except wrap his arms around Harrington’s neck and close the distance?

If later that night Eddie was still wearing that skirt as he and Harrington came to an understanding, well, no one needed to know.

And if the next night it was Steve wearing the cheerleading skirt…that was between him and his king.

Part 2

#stranger things #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #steve harrington #pre steddie #steddie #king steve #cheerleader eddie munson #platonic hellcheer #hellcheer #no upside down au #fanfic #wheneverfeasible #ladyxdarcy #plot thots #feel free to use IF appropriate credit is made

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kingkatsuki · 1 year ago

Text

— late

This was completely inspired by a conversation I had with my friend about her kids.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Warnings: girl dad!Bakugou, established relationship, not proof-read as always.

Word Count: 1.1k.

Juggling family as a Pro-Hero in the top 10 is never easy. No matter what you do to ensure your plans go smoothly, crime doesn’t sleep— especially not when it’s your daughters fifth birthday.

“I hate you!” Is the last thing Bakugou hears before his daughters bedroom door is slammed shut, the silence after is deafening as you watch the colour drain from your husbands face.

His chest still heaving from the speed in which he rushed home, dirt and grime stain his skin as he stands dejected in the middle of the living room. Boots that are usually abandoned at the door trudge filth through your home as Bakugou stands statuesque in place.

“Baby,” You hum, reaching around his frame to bring him closer to you as you rest your chin on his chest to stare up at him, “You know she doesn’t mean that—”

“Course she does,” He rasps, “She said she fuckin’ hates me.”

You can tell from the slight lilt to his gruff voice that your big, strong husband is on the verge of tears. Bringing his arm up to rub at his blackened eyes with the ball of his hand, smearing the eyeliner along his cheekbones.

Bakugou was used to being hated, from the public to the media and the Hero Commission. It was usually something he could brush off with ease, laughing off angry emails or poorly written articles. But it was a different kind of hurt when the words had come from his own daughter.

“She’s hurting right now,” You soothe, tightening your grip on him as his Adam’s apple bobs, “She was just excited for you to be at the party, but she understands—”

Bakugou had booked this day off a year in advance, it was always the first thing he looked at on the calendar, even before your birthday. It was his daughters special day, and he was determined for it to be perfect. Fully embracing whatever theme she’d decided on for her celebrations— this year had been a Barbie theme that had left your home embellished in vibrant pink and glitter that would probably stay embedded into your plush carpets until her next birthday.

He’d spent the previous night carefully wrapping a custom Barbie doll in pretty pink paper as you prepared the house for her party. Bakugou had even picked out an entire hero outfit that was an on brand Barbie pink, instead of his usual colours that he was planning on surprising his daughter with.

But even with all these plans in place, and even arranging backup from his dutiful sidekicks at the agency— the life of a Pro-Hero is never easy. And just as Bakugou was preparing to change into his outfit for his daughters party, he was called into work. An emergency that superseded anyone working at his agency today, as the Hero Commission requested his presence in the field.

It’s not the first time it’s happened, and Bakugou knows it won’t be the last. Even a last minute phone call to Deku to take the lead wasn’t enough to save his day, as the Commission ended up calling both heroes to the scene.

Hours later, he was explosive and inconsolable. Telling the authorities to fuck the crime scene reports and statements as he shoved an unwitting reporter out of his face as their camera crashed to the floor, certain his PR team would be in his inbox about that incident first thing tomorrow morning. But he was completely uninterested in humouring any of them today, not when he could’ve been at home with his family.

Coming in through the front door as he finally realised just how late it was when the house was completely empty besides you and his daughter.

“I should’ve been here, she needed me—”

“The city still needs Dynamight,” You murmured, “What was the situation?”

“Bad,” He grumbled, “Shithead derailed a train in the city, had a group of school kids on it. One almost— the look in his eyes when he was fallin’.“

He trailed off, scrunching his nose as he thought back to the scene. You felt his arms wrap around your shoulders as he clung to you, leaning into your warmth as he tried to calm his racing heart.

“But he didn’t, right?”

He shook his head as you smiled, breathing in the scent of smoke and ash from his quirk as soot covered his body.

“Because Dynamight is a hero.”

“But not to my own daughter.”

“You’ll always be her hero, baby.” You soothe as he leans down to bury his face in the curve of your neck, deeply inhaling the scent of you.

“I’m a terrible dad,” His breath tickles your neck as you pull back to frown at him.

“Don’t you dare say that,” You scrunch your nose in irritation, “You’re the best dad, Kats.”

“If I was, I woulda been here for her.” He scoffs.

“You’re out there keeping us safe, keeping other kids safe. Making sure they get to go home to their dads too.” You cradle his face in your palms to press a soft kiss to his chapped lips.

The sound of little feet coming down the stairs breaks him away from you as you turn to see your daughter, still dressed in her full party outfit, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“Hey, is that my little princess?” Bakugou rasps as she comes towards you both, crouching down to her height and adjusting the pink tiara that sits on top of her head.

“Barbie princess.” She whispers, holding a piece of pink paper out to him as he takes it.

“Barbie princess.” He corrects himself, moving his attention to the words words etched onto the page as he unfolds it.

‘I’m sorry I wouldn’t trade you for any other daddy in the world.’

A smile spreads across your face at the cute sentence as you feel the muscles in Bakugou’s back immediately relax, reaching down to lift your daughter up to hold her to his chest as her small arms immediately circle his neck.

“I’m sorry I missed your party, sweetheart,” He rasps, smoothing her wild hair down.

“I’m sorry too,” She sniffs, “I don’t hate you, daddy.”

Bakugou’s lips curl into a soft smile as he leans forward to press a kiss onto her cheek.

“I love you, princess.” He whispers, nuzzling her cheek with his nose.

“Love you too, daddy.” She smiles.

“But you know you can’t trade me anyway, right?” He frowns, pulling back to meet her gaze, “I’m your daddy and I always will be.”

#bakugou x reader #soft bakugou

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cartierre · 1 year ago

Text

SINCE WAY BACK | ln4

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU lando norris x fem!black!producer!reader (fc: alexis carrington)

side note: drake is aged up in this because i want y/n to be born around 2000/2001 but that would mean drake was 14/15 when he became a dad... so he's just a few years older here to make it more believable okay? great. side note pt2: there are so many long twitter threads used to explain the whole backstory. like, really really long. i didn't know how else to explain everything, i'm sorry.

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tagged: mclaren, octobersveryown

f1 BREAKING: October's Very Own (OVO) joins the McLaren team as their new primary sponsor for the 2023 season.

#F1 #Formula1 #McLaren

view all 5,328 comments

user1 what the fuck is drake doing here

user2 i'm actually so gagged like what is happening why is drake invested in f1 all of a sudden

user3 this is such an odd pairing? drake and zak brown together feels like a fever dream

user4 drake joining f1 as a sponsor was definitely not on my 2023 bingo card

user5 caitlyn jenner buying a whole w series team is less surprising than whatever this is

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lando.jpg adonis is teaching me how to play basketball because otherwise he "cannot accept me" i've been humbled by a 5 year old

view all 483 comments

user6 is that the girl he might or might not be dating ⤷ user7 i need to know otherwise i might die (i won't but the suspense is killing me)

user8 WHO IS THAT GIRL LANDO

user9 is this you trying to soft launch or is she just a platonic friend?

user10 "fans" going insane because they can't handle the thought of lando having female friends as well

user11 he's not even tagging anyone omg now i have to scroll through all the people he follows. lando is not making my job easy

(private account)

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y/n_graham why am i trending on twitter and why is everyone uncovering my childhood

view all 45 comments

landonorris i think this is my fault ⤷ y/n_graham you and your jpg ⤷ landonorris my camera lense is just so mesmerised by your beauty ⤷ y/n_graham your compliments won't get you out of trouble

centralcee i'm literally getting dms asking about you ⤷ y/n_graham i woke up to 15,000 people trying to follow me

jorjasmith_ lando's fans are literally fbi agents ⤷ y/n_graham i'm making so many backup files of my music projects because i'm scared someone will hack into my laptop now

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f1wags Y/N Graham, daughter of Canadian rapper Drake, was photographed by a fan outside the venue in Greece where Lando Norris, her rumoured boyfriend, was playing this weekend. None of the two have confirmed nor deniend the relationship allegations that have been going around for a few months now. An inside source, which attended the party, revealed how the two behaved very intimate with each other.

view all 5,394 comments

user12 girl it's been nearly four months since the rumours started... can one of them just please either confirm or deny them?

user13 at this point i'm just over the whole drama. let them have their privacy i guess

user14 this drama is juicier than when the whole oscar-alpine-mclaren fiasco happened

user15 i'm this close to ripping my hair out why is this rumour been going on for AGES i just want a simple statement already

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tagged: y/n_graham, champagnepapi

lando.jpg bonding family time, got to support the father in law ;)

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user16 EXCUSE ME WDYM FATHER IN LAW? is this a joke or real ⤷ y/n_graham we're not married, don't worry ⤷ user17 OMG Y/N MADE HER ACCOUNT PUBLIC JUST NOW

champagnepapi i like the sound of "father in law" ⤷ lando.jpeg i know you would ⤷ y/n_graham no no no

user18 okay from what i've gathered drake and lando are on good terms ⤷ user19 bet that's why drake sponsored mclaren lmao ⤷ y/n_graham no but deadass

user20 y/n fighting for her life in the comments lmaoooo ⤷ y/n_graham in the trenches

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railingsofsorrow · 6 months ago

Note

Emily Prentiss x reader with the song “Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?”.

They’re dating and an unsub takes reader (reader can be part of the BAU or not) and it’s like a switch goes off in Emily’s brain and she doesn’t hesitate to do anything to get reader back. When Emily gets reader back they see that side of Emily for the first time and is scared of her because they’ve never seen Emily like that. Bonus if unsub makes reader see what Emily does to get them back to try to make reader hate Emily.

who's afraid of little old me?

[emily prentiss x reader]

summary: Emily didn't know she carried so much rage inside of her until she saw bloody fingers around your neck and a gun pointed at your temple. She should've seen it coming.

pairing: emily prentiss x f!bau!reader w.c: 2.9K warnings/content: case-related violence: blood, gun, gunshot wounds, fainting; flinching; a hint towards police brutality (implied); mentions of psychopathy (implied); language; discussion about committing murder to someone; crying; insomnia; protective emily; angst; fluff.

A/N: hello anon, here's your request. sorry for the delay, I hope you like it :)

[part of “the taylor swift anthology”]

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

[requested]

[press play]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❝ if you wanted me dead

you should've just said. ❞

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Emily.

. . .

Emily!

She woke up with a start. Hyperventilating and shortness of breath, her chest was tight like someone was pressing their hands on it. She couldn't breathe. Not until your hands were touching and comforting her in a way only you knew how to do.

Then, and only then, would she inhale and feel the air entering her lungs.

But two days ago, it wasn't like that. Two days ago, she didn't have you by her side in bed, whispering her name and making her feel safe, which was what she should be doing to you. You were the one who had been kidnapped and held hostage for a week.

Two days ago, Emily almost lost you.

━━━━━━━━━

[Two days ago]

Smoke came out of the car, blurring her vision as she tried to approach the vehicle.

She had taken off her earpiece a while ago, bothered by her team's voice blaring through her ear begging for her to not move forward without backup.

Right. As if that was such an easy task for her to do. Absolutely not. You had been taken a week ago by a woman they've been chasing for two weeks. A witness. She had been right under your noses the whole time and from the moment you walked into her house to get her statement, you'd become prey to her sick games.

I should've seen it coming.

It's what echoed through Emily's brain non-stop.

I should've seen it coming.

When you're on the job, you bottle up your feelings as much as you can in order to focus on cracking the case and saving lives.

Hotch was stern and had that tough exterior that made people think twice before uttering a word, in fear of saying something wrong. He was an unexceptional Unit Chief for the Behavioral Analysis Unit and an even greater friend to Emily. He taught her everything she knows about how to be a good leader and taking that spot that once belonged to him for years was a tough choice. Emily didn't know how she would ever measure up to Aaron Hotchner, but she did know how to lead given her experience in London and that was a start.

Something he had told her once, about letting people in, because they were too much alike on that point.

“When those people say they care, it's usually because they do. When you're on the field, you're coworkers, they're your team. But off the field... you're allowed to let go. They're your friends, Emily. We all are.”

Hotch was trying to tell her not to compartmentalize everything. He was advising her to trust her team, her friends, because she deserved it and she wasn't all alone anymore.

She believed that.

She believed she wasn't all alone anymore the moment you walked into her life with a smile and a plate filled with delicious chocolate chip cookies made by you. That was your first day of work, the first day she saw you, the first time she heard your voice, and the first moment she believed in love at first sight.

Emily would let go when she was with you. She would be vulnerable for the first time in decades. She trusted you with her entire being.

The issue with people that bottle up their feelings, is that they're a ticking time bomb. They hold on for as much as they can, maintaining that harsh exterior and unlimited control, until that control is lost and the fire is set. It explodes. No warning. No previous announcements. It just happens.

Emily didn't know she carried so much rage inside of her until she saw bloody fingers around your neck and a gun pointed at your temple.

I should've seen it coming.

“Megan, let her go.”

Your eyes were locked to Emily's unwavering figure, you sought her eyes but she didn't meet yours, not even for a second.

Your hair was matted with blood and dirt. The blood belonged to you, you've lost count of the fights you had pulled to get out of the hell you were put in. You were most definitely concussed as well, though the headache was barely a pang in the back of your head. Adrenaline was responsible for keeping you standing until now. Once it wears out, you're certain you will collapse in exhaustion and dehydration.

“Why?” The woman whispered in your ear, causing shivers to went down your spine. Her cheek was rubbing against yours. She was asking you why she should let you go.

You know one wrong move can send a bullet straight to your brain and you didn't feel like dying tonight. Especially not in front of Emily.

You admired her professionalism on the field. She'd never deviate or hesitate, always certain about her next move. You were proud of her. Of who she became. Proud of how she let you in in her life.

Emily rarely got mad. She would lean towards annoyance and pout when something didn't work out the way she wanted. She would be the one to calm you down when you were mad, actually.

Now, holding a gun with her gaze set on Megan Gilbert, there was profound anger and determination set in her eyes.

She wouldn't look at you.

"Did you see the damage she did to my partner?" She tightened her hold on your tied hands, pulling at them causing you to wince. "Agent Prentiss, are you playing a hero or an assassin today?"

"Stop it," you hissed. You knew what she was doing and you weren't so sure Emily would hold herself back much longer.

"I think your team will call it overkill, won't they?" Megan didn't even show any sadness over the death of her brother. She wasn't capable of showing emotion. "So many bullet holes in Adrian's head... Tsc tsc tsc. Are you gonna tell them it was self-defense? That's what you all do, isn't that right?"

"Shut up!" You attempt to hit her head with the back of yours, but you barely graze it before she pulls you forward, throwing you on the floor as you groan in pain because of having landed in your right arm in an awkward position because of your tied hands.

"There it is, you have her," Megan drawled out. You have trouble turning over with both your feet and wrists tied up, but you did it. Emily is still pointing her gun at her, her ponytail slightly undone, you see sweat traveling down the side of her face, but she's unmoving, certain. "Now what, Agent Prentiss?"

She looked at you for a glimpse of a second as you fell, taking a step in front of you to make sure Megan wouldn't try anything. She wouldn't, not with her there.

"Emily." You croaked out, voice rough, begging.

The room was filled with a daunting silence. The outcome could only go two ways: Megan Gilbert successfully arrested or with a bullet wound to her head. Judging by Emily's current demeanor, you were leaning towards the latter option. You didn't want that. Not because you cared any bit for Megan, but for how that would affect Emily if she pulled that trigger.

"Em." You called her name again, trying to free yourself from your restraints. Megan had clearly lost her momentary infatuation with you after noticing Emily's reaction at seeing you hurt and she was successfully using that in her favor. Emily was her target now. Not you. Which was why she didn't let go of her gun.

Damn it, Emily. Look at me, don't do it. Don't do it.

"You have her," Megan repeated, tilting her head with her gun wavering around the room with a laugh. "But you don't really have her, do you? Not now, not anymore." Your breath was shallow and you didn't know how much more you were able to keep yourself awake. The adrenaline was starting to wear out. "Because what I did... it will haunt her forever. I left beautiful marks on her body so that she could look in the mirror and see them- see the art I've made. Which, honestly, was a favor. She wasn't that salvageable before-Fuck!"

You flinch back as the loud sound of the gunfire echoed throughout the room.

“Don't you ever, and I mean, ever—” Emily said through gritted teeth, pausing in between each word. “... talk about her again.”

You looked away as she sunk her shoe into the bullet wound on Megan's leg. A maniac laugh escaped from the woman's mouth.

“Oh, that's nice. Have I hit a nerve?”

“Emily.” You leaned back with difficulty, coldness crawling up on you. You could barely feel your legs anymore. You could barely feel anything.

Something seemed to click in Emily's mind, bringing her back to you. When she turned around, her heart sank and she felt herself immediately running towards you, calling out your name so you would give her some sort of response. Anything. Your eyes were shut, your clothes ripped and dirty, a nasty cut on your lip.

“Hey, I'm here.” Emily brushed your messy strands away from your face, her eyes analysing the number of injuries you had. Megan was still provoking her by the time the team came in through the door, groaning as they pulled her up forcefully. You looked away at her bleeding leg, earning a sound of mocking pity from her.

"You feel sorry for me, pretty thing?"

Emily turned back to glance at someone and spoke with an icy tone that made you inch away a little bit. You weren't scared of her, never. But anything caused you to flinch and god did you need to lie down and sleep, just sleep. "Get her the fuck away from here right now."

Your name was called repeatedly and you didn't understand why if you were right there. Until you understood the reason why everything was so dark and the last thing you felt was somebody holding your head before you collapsed.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❝ the scandal was contained

the bullet had just grazed

at all costs, keep your good name

you didn't get to tell me you feel bad. ❞

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Em.”

You asked, leaning against the wall. Arms folded across your chest. The living room carried the cold breeze from the night air, which meant that the kitchen window was open.

You know you closed it before going to bed, but the curled-up body on the couch told you who was responsible for opening the window.

“Baby,” you whispered, brushing her dark strands away from her face. “Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

She cracked one eye open, which made you sniffle a laugh. Then, she fluttered both of her eyes open, taking your hand that was caressing her cheek to intertwine with hers.

“I'm not sleeping.”

You raised a brow.

The corner of her lips twitched, “I can't fall asleep and I didn't want to bother you so I came down here.”

You shook your head, leaning down to kiss her forehead before standing up to close the kitchen window and then coming back.

"I told you." You perched on the edge of the sofa and she silently gave you space to come closer. You pulled your knees to your chest and squeezed next to her. Emily chuckled into your neck, wrapping her arms around your middle. "...to tell me when you couldn't sleep. I don't want you to be alone." You let out a sigh when she stayed quiet. "Em, you gotta talk to me."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❝ is it a wonder I broke? ❞

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I scared you."

With furrowed brows to express your confusion, you grab her hand to pull it to your chest.

"What do you mean?"

"When I found you..."

You quickly turned around to face her. "Emily-"

"You were already scared and I made it worse. It-it wasn't my intention, but the only thing I could think of was finding you to bring you to safety, which is something that I failed to do before."

"No, Emily. You didn't fail," you said softly. Your heart breaking as a tear traveled down her cheek, "that wasn't your responsibility. You had no way of knowing what she was going to do. None of us did. Em, it wasn't your fault."

She sniffled, shaking her head. "I should have known better."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❝ then say they didn't do it to hurt me. . . but what if they did? ❞

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You cupped her cheeks, forcing her to look at you. Her eyes were misty and you wanted more than anything to make her feel better. She shouldn't be crying because of you, that was the last thing you wanted.

"Listen to me," you said, thumb grazing her jaw until it reached the back of her ear. She leaned into your touch. "I'm right here, that's what matters. What happened wasn't your fault, I do not blame you, you understand that?" You kissed each of her cheeks, tasting the salty tears that were dripping down like rainfall.

You also felt the need to clarify something. "I never saw you like that," you admitted carefully. "You wouldn't listen to me and I was scared that whatever you did would affect you later. I didn't want you to do something you would regret. I wasn’t scared of you, baby."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❝ if you wanted me dead

you should've just said.

nothing makes me feel more alive. ❞

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Emily leaned away from you and you felt as if you had been burned. She sat down, drying her tears with a shake of her head. Then, her voice echoed through the silence in the living room.

"I should have killed her. That's what keeps me up, that's what's affecting me. I should have ended there so she couldn't hurt you anymore."

"Emily." You sighed heavily, your frustration growing. You turned on your back to face the ceiling.

"She almost killed you," Emily said in disbelief. "How can you sleep when she almost-"

"But she didn't, I'm here." And who says I’m sleeping?

"But she almost did!"

"And you wanted me to live with the fact that you would have killed someone for me?" You snapped. "I wouldn't sleep soundly, I would've questioned every decision I've ever made if I had been responsible for that. You're being selfish."

Emily blinked at you, studying your face quietly before diverting her attention back to her hands on her lap. You didn't understand and as selfish as it was for her to say that, you didn't almost lose her, she almost lost you. She would have never forgiven herself if she wasn't able to find you in time or if she couldn't find you at all. Just the thought alone made her stomach churn. It would have killed her.

Emily picked at her nails, "Right."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❝ so I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street

crash the party like a record scratch:

who's afraid of little old me?

you should be. ❞

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before you glanced down at her, gaze filled with sadness. "Can you please just... hold me?"

You didn't understand. But you didn't have to. Emily would do anything to protect you at all costs. She couldn't bear the thought of losing you or letting anyone hurt you. She promised herself that she would never let that happen again. She would make sure of that.

So when you asked for a hug, you were very much aware that she needed it more than you.

Your girlfriend's demeanor shifted to something softer, warmer, something you knew and needed. Not a revenge-seeking person. You didn't want revenge, you wanted to be in Emily's arms and help her get a good night's sleep for once. You wanted her to let you do that.

"I love you." She said in your neck, rubbing a hand across your arm tenderly. "I'm sorry." I'm sorry I didn't find you sooner, I'm sorry you got hurt and I didn't stop it.

"Just hold me." You curled your legs around hers, bringing her body impossibly closer to yours. "I love you too, Em." It was the last thing you said before darkness enveloped you into something calmer and lovely, instead of the awful nightmares from two nights ago. You knew that you were safe in your apartment, with Emily close to you and Sergio creeping around the living room as he noticed his moms’ presence in the living room.

It was the first night since you came back home that Emily was able to sleep without jerking awake frightened, out of breath. The first moment she didn't fear almost losing you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❝ I am what I am cause you trained me

so who's afraid of me?

so who's afraid of little old me?

you should be.❞

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

#emily prentiss one shot #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x reader #reader insert #criminal minds #emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss fic #the taylor swift anthology #requested

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starshideurfics · 4 months ago

Text

Ring my bell, part 6

steddie, omegaverse, flagging/signaling culture, there’s plot now, in the smut, mdni 🔞

Part 5

Steve wakes to the sound of the phone ringing. The sky is still pre-dawn purple, and Eddie’s arms are tight around his waist. He hears Wayne shuffle to the phone and answer with a tired, “Munson residence.” Barely two seconds pass before he continues, sounding much more awake, “Kid, slow down. Eddie’s sleeping, s’early. — Yeah, I’ll get him.”

The receiver taps as it’s set down on the counter, and Wayne doesn’t bother keeping his steps quiet as he heads down the hall and pokes his head into the room. “Ed, get up. Got one of your friends on the phone and he’s barely gettin’ a word out that I can follow.”

“Be there in a second,” Eddie grumbles, squeezing around Steve’s waist. “Just gotta grab pants.”

“Morning, Steve,” Wayne adds as he retreats.

“Morning!” Steve calls back, flushing hot. Wayne had Eddie invite him for dinner back in January, told him the only ground rules were no sleepovers on school nights, and practically welcomed him to the family. Doesn’t mean Steve isn’t embarrassed to be caught naked in bed with his boyfriend.

Eddie pushes himself out of bed, gropes around for a pair of ratty sweats that he tugs over his pasty ass, and slouches out to the kitchen. “Yello!” Pause. “Lucas, hey, slow down, dude.” Pause. “What the fuck? Are you okay? Shit, no—Are you safe?” Long pause. “Okay, thanks for the heads up. Do you need someone to come get you? Are your parents gonna freak?” Pause. “Okay, I’ll be right there.”

He jogs back to his room, plucks a shirt from the “still good” clothing pile, and struggles to dress quickly.

“What’s going on?” Steve mumbles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Something fucking bad happened, Stevie. Lucas is freaking and Chrissy Cunningham’s dead.” He bites his quavering lip.

“What the fuck?”

“I *sold* to her yesterday, Steve. She was good at hiding it, but she was terrified of something. And Lucas sounded real messed up on the phone.”

Steve swings his legs over the edge of the bed and searches for his clothes. “I’m coming with you.”

“Puppy…”

“Lucas has seen enough bad shit as it is. I’m coming to check on him.”

“And yet you claim you didn’t birth these kids.”

Steve tugs his henley back over his head, and grabs Eddie’s hand. “Now you’re just wasting time.” As usual, he’s the one taking charge and he grabs his keys. “We’re taking my car, you drive like a maniac.”

“Puppy! I’m not that bad!”

“And we’ll look fucking suspicious showing up in your van.”

“…Yeah, okay.”

Steve doesn’t bother saying Eddie is jittery as all hell, that he knows he wouldn’t pay enough attention to the road. They just say bye to Wayne and hurry out to the Bimmer.

“The basketball team started partying out at Benny’s old place when Hargrove moved here… I’m guessing that’s where we’re going?”

Eddie nods, suddenly quiet. As soon as Steve starts driving, Eddie starts shaking his knee so hard that Steve needs him to stop—he’s bouncing too much in his peripheral vision. His right hand shoots out and grabs Eddie’s thigh, squeezing twice. “Ed, hey. We’re gonna get Lucas and get out of there. That’s it.”

“It’s not that… There’s more—we both know Lucas would call you in an emergency over me. But I wasn’t the backup. He called because my phone number is still written on Chrissy’s hand.”

“Eddie…”

“She wanted something stronger than weed! I figured I’d give her some options later! I didn’t think whatever she was scared of would leave her d—” He chokes in the word. “Steve, I hate this.”

“I know, Puppy. Me too.” Steve lifts his hand, holds it palm-up, and Eddie takes it, lacing their fingers together.

When they pull up to Benny’s there are cop cars everywhere, blocking in the cars of the basketball team. Most of the guys are standing around or sitting in the grass, all with the same haunted look, but Lucas is talking to Chief Powell.

Steve parks, and he and Eddie get out together, hands finding each other again.

“I told you,” Lucas says as they approach, his back to them, “There was no screaming. I was one room over and I didn’t hear anything.”

“But you did recognize the phone number written on her hand?”

“Yeah, I noticed it the night before, because it’s my friend’s number.”

“Oh? And who would that friend be?”

Eddie lifts his hand in a quick wave. “That’d be me, Chief. Chrissy loaned me her History notes, told her to call me when she needed ‘em back.”

“Munson. You staying out of trouble?”

“Trying to.”

“And where were you last night?”

“At home, with my boyfriend.” He lifts Steve’s hand, showing their laced fingers and drawing attention to him.

Lucas’s eyes bug out.

Powell shrugs. “We’ll call if we’ve got any more questions.”

#steddie #omegaverse #fanfiction #alpha eddie munson #omega steve harrington #ficlet #stranger things fic #ring my bell

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meadowscarlet · 2 years ago

Text

inflicted desire ━━━ kaz brekker.

pairings: kaz brekker x fem!reader.

summary: you were simply a crow and nina's closest friend, but kaz doesn't understand why he feels the need to be near you or protect you when you can protect yourself; he is closed off and unreadable, and he couldn't articulate his feelings properly, until you were hurt on the job.

warnings: the normal six of crows shenanigans.

author’s note: a reposted fic. do not copy, post on another site, translate or claim any of my works as your own or you will be reported! nav.

Kaz Brekker did not make mistakes. He was a thief, not a fool, the Dregs' leader, and Ketterdam's most notorious man. He had a sharp intellect and was astute; no one ventured to cross him out of fear, or they were rational enough not to.

His plans were meticulous, and if something went wrong (which was unlikely), he had hundreds of backup plans ready to go. And everything went well, but there was a glimmer of realization that Kaz had made the biggest mistake of his life. It was bothering him, and he had a nagging feeling of uneasiness.

If he had merely noted when he met you—charming and intriguing—when he visited the House of the White Rose to inform Nina about a job; he should have simply ignored you when you passed him in the hall without a second glance, but Kaz had been effectively intrigued.

Nina told him that you were her closest friend and the one person in the White Rose who kept her sane. Nina was cautious, with a guarded gleam in her eyes and a reluctance that could get you killed in Ketterdam, when Kaz inquired whether you had any skills.

Nina had given Kaz a sharp gaze and said, “Recruiting her in the Dregs is dangerous.”

“Nina dear,” Kaz drawled. “It's dangerous everywhere in Ketterdam. And I think your friend would appreciate getting out of here every now and then.”

Nina told Kaz about your bewitching qualities with a little more trepidation. You were charismatic, a pretty face and a cunning smile that could tempt wealthy merchants to give you kruge and a wise convincer. Nina also mentioned that you had good combat skills. Kaz Brekker had smirked at the time, his thoughts racing. He was well aware that he needed you on his team.

That was his very first mistake. You were good at your work—you did a brilliant job and Kaz knew you were a terrific addition to the Dregs—but as the days passed, he began to have an underlying feeling inside him that he quickly dismissed whenever you were there. Kaz often wondered if he should have heeded Nina's advice about not recruiting you in the Dregs, but he'd been blinded by his curiosity, and he bitterly regretted it.

He recalled one mission in which they were meant to spy on a handful of Pekka Rollins' men. Kaz remembered how meticulously he had prepared for this; he had gone over blueprints over and again until his eyes were weary, but he would not rest—never. Kaz was scrupulous with his plotting especially since it involved Pekka Rollins.

When there's a lovely girl around and they're inebriated, men are simple to seduce. So, of course, your main task was to play the inquisitive girl, allowing men to reveal their drunken secrets while you sat, looking pretty. Despite the fact that you were skilled in this vicinity, Kaz didn't like the plan, but he needed Inej on the roofs and Nina by the door, so you were left as an option.

As he saw you woo one of Rollins guys, he felt a prickling sensation inside him. You were dressed in a velvety white dress that accentuated your contours; you stood out in the darkness of Ketterdam, and you shone brightly. Kaz may not believe in Saints, but he was convinced you were one by the radiance of your smile and dress.

He despised seeing you sitting on a drunk Dime Lion man's lap, and Kaz noticed you looked uneasy, so he fought the impulse to smash the man's head with his cane until his skull cracked satisfyingly. He reminded himself that this was a job, and he needed to do his part. Despite your unsettled expression, he could see your ears perk up, and that's when Kaz recognized the man had begun to speak.

Kaz watched you giggling and touching the man's forearm while drinking your drink; you were playing your part wonderfully as usual. And it all happened very quickly; when the drunken man leaned close to you, another man approached him to stop him, and Kaz realized the man knew who you were.

The man had said something to the inebriated man, and the latter had suddenly sobered up, and Kaz realized chaos had occurred. Because of the drink you drank, you appeared tipsy, but Kaz could see how your eyes flared in terror and your gaze immediately darted to him.

Kaz had set out on foot to get you, but Nina had beaten him to it. Nina had grasped your wrist and pulled you away in alarm before the man could grab you. Shots were being fired, and Kaz could see Jesper rousing his revolters to fire back at the men who were shooting at you and now at Jesper.

Kaz was so concentrated on the men and the bullets that he missed you limping in Nina's arms as he pulled his own gun. Nina wore a worried expression on her face and was essentially bearing half your weight. And Kaz could see it: there was blood on your abdomen that was obvious and evident through the white of your dress. As Kaz focused on you, gunshots faded into the background, and he was startled out of his reverie when Jesper told them to leave.

He didn't normally listen to Jesper because he was the one who gave the directions and commands, but now his feet followed Jesper's, his leg jerking in pain as he hobbled, yet his step was swift. He remembered the blood on your adobem, the way Nina's eyes widened, and he was filled with dread. It was terrifying. Since Jordie, he hasn't felt like this in years.

Kaz knew Inej was close behind him, quiet and concealed like the Wraith she is, as his Crows hurried to the Slat. As you limped beside Nina, Kaz could see you being held by her, and he turned to Jesper, a sensation inside him that he didn't want to convey.

“Run after Nina," Kaz rasped coldly. “Help her with Y/N.”

Jesper didn't need to say anything else as he ran to Nina, and when he caught up with both girls, he grabbed your waist and helped half of your weight as Nina and Jesper carried you to the Slat. Kaz despised hearing a hint of fragility in his voice, but Jesper didn't seem to mind.

It didn't matter to Kaz if Nina could hear his rapid heartbeat. Kaz saw that the others were watching him as his eyes swept you laying on your bed with Nina mending your wound. Even though your face was pale and your breathing was unsteady, you were alive, Kaz was not soothed. Despite her concerns, Nina had been firm, requesting medical equipment from Matthias, who had followed orders.

Kaz isn't concerned about the Rollins information right now; all he wants is for you to be alright. He remembered your eyes widening in panic and searching for his first. He swallowed a lump in his throat and shook his head, focusing on you instead. And there was so much blood, Kaz gripped his cane tightly in his fist.

“Heal her,” he murmured.

Nina gave him a cold stare. “I'm trying, Kaz, but there's just too much blood.”

“I don't care,” Kaz said icily, his gaze matching hers. “Zenik, heal her.”

Inej had left, but not before praying to her Saints for you to be well. Jesper walked away as well, noticing the gloom in Kaz's voice and Nina's gaze. Matthias was retrieving more medical supplies, creating a tense atmosphere with only a feverish Kaz, an anxious but indignant Nina, and an alive yet barely Y/ N.

“You should leave, l'll get to you once l'm done,” Nina remarked as she resumed working in your wounded abdomen.

Kaz stood firm in his position. “I'm not going anywhere.”

With a shake of her head, Nina replied, “Your heartbeat is distracting me.” Kaz noticed her hand quivering. “I can sense your nerves, Brekker, and it doesn't help that l'm worried about her as well.”

He was terrified; he had shown vulnerability, and Nina had noticed. She knew he cared about you, and he had never experienced anything like it with anybody else. When Inej was stabbed, Jesper was shot, or Matthias, Wylan, and Nina were hurt, Kaz's heart didn't rush as rapidly. It was always you who made his heart race with nerves and a need to protect you if you were harmed.

When Kaz glanced at your hand, palm up, he felt compelled to grasp it. Not Jesper, who had brought you to the Slat, or even Nina, who stroked your hair away from your face every now and then, but he should be the one holding you and aiding you. But Kaz knew that idea alone was impossible; he couldn't think about it without shivering with distaste, so he stayed, a safe distance away, with a tremendous desire to hold you.

Nina fixed her gaze on him. “I assume she'll be a little hazy when she wakes up, so don't ask her any questions about the information.”

“I don't give a damn about the information,” Kaz remarked indifferently.

Kaz despised the mischievous glimmer in her eyes as she shot him a shocked glance. “Kaz Brekker not caring about the information that's about Pekka Rollins? Somebody pinch me.”

He gave her a skeptical look as he rolled his eyes. “Keep her alive by doing your work, Nina dear.”

Nina shrugged her shoulders, but her eyes were gloomy. “She's not dead, Kaz,” she said with a shake of her head. “Since the blood loss, she'll be unconscious, but she'll be fine—she usually is.”

Kaz nodded in agreement. What Nina said was right; it was not uncommon for someone in the Crows to be hurt—it happens all the time, especially during heists and jobs—but the jobs were mostly successful, and Kaz had been blunt in assigning you the safest task (charming people) because a selfish part of him wanted you to be in the middle of the job so he could keep an eye on you.

But, despite his composed demeanor, he seemed to crumble everywhere around you. Perhaps you had charmed him, as you had charmed so many others, by bewitching him with your entire being, causing his black heart to seek you out. When you were around, there was always an inflicted desire within Kaz, which he had always disregarded until now.

Kaz wanted to kill the man who had touched you, as well as track down the person who had shot you. He remembered your bright eyes dampening in fear and a brief tremor of despair as you realized you'd been caught, then blood splattering across your white dress and Nina's worried expression as she carried your limping weight.

Nina snarled, “You're doing it again.”

With his dark eyes, Kaz looked at her. “What?”

“I know you love her and all, but I need to focus, and your heartbeat is incredibly distracting right now,” Nina rambled.

Kaz stilled as he heard the word he didn't want to associate himself with. “In Ketterdam, love is neglected; it is reserved for the weak.”

Nina surprised him by laughing. “What are you doing right now? Whenever Y/N is hurt, you appear weak—you're in your vulnerable form.”

Kaz wanted to kill Nina by saying things he knew were true, but he was ignorant and stubborn to accept it. Nina gave him a knowing look as she cleaned, healed, and wrapped a cloth around your wound before kissing you on the forehead and leaving Kaz alone with you.

Kaz strolled over to where you were laying after a few moments of contemplation. He examined your flawless face, which, despite seeming pale and near death, was nonetheless lovely. Kaz paused for a while before raising his gloved palm to your cheek and tucking the errant strand of hair away.

He sat down near your bed, putting his disgust aside. Despite the strong temptation, he did not grasp your inviting hand. Kaz had stayed by your bedside the entire night, never leaving your side. Nina had stopped by every now and then to change your bandage, but she had said nothing about Kaz's overstaying or even asked him to leave.

When Nina was treating your wound, she had said, “You should rest, Kaz.”

Kaz gave her a sidelong glance. “Don't tell me what to do.”

Nina may have been right, but she was also wrong. Kaz did not believe he was capable of love, yet he had a great desire to be with you. To be in your company, to receive your gorgeous smile, and to simply be in your presence. And this time he wasn't going to ignore it.

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iwritestuffthatiobsessover · 5 months ago

Text

Ninjago Headcanons from an elder fan

Part 1

There is a group chat, and it pops off all hours of the day. And often the conversation is being texted in all caps, or voice messages of the ninja yelling at each other.

Skylor was added to it but left because there were too many notifications while she was working.

Zane will take selfies in the middle of the battle and send it to the group chat

Nya begs him to stop doing it but Zane thinks it's hilarious

Kai is a material girl; he does his skincare, haircare, and body care and will often pester Nya about where she goes to fix herself up for dates.

Ninjas who ride cycles also wear helmets, which increases their attractiveness by 200%.

Lloyd has taken on the man bun. Yes, it does work out for him.

Jay is severely underrated. He's strong, average-sized, and has freckles all over. This dude is a ninja and commonly climbs high places to practice his element. He's got to have that nice upper body strength.

Cole's the tallest, heaviest, and strongest. He's pure muscle, but he's also a gentle giant when he's not in battle. Even sparring, he'll go easy in an effort to not hurt his friends.

He will, however, pick Jay up and just carry him out of the room if he gets too aggravating.

Nya will still tinker with mech, and often spends time with Pixal doing so. They're lesbians, and Nya taught Pixal how to be more self-assured and independent.

Pixal's life revolved around serving other people, and she had to be taught how to serve herself.

Zane and Pixal are similar to how the D:BH androids function. They can download any file, and research anything, but once it comes to human experiences and emotions, they have to take their time and learns from being hands-on.

That's why it took so long for Zane to catch on to simple emotions and phrases, and why he still has trouble even if he's made improvements.

Zane and Nya are close friends, they were the oddballs before Lloyd showed up.

Nya and Lloyd are also really close because of this, and while as a child he loved to annoy her, he actually really looked up to her.

Babysit isn't the proper wording, but Nya definitely looked after Lloyd and taught him the basic functions of how to take care of himself.

Kai as well, the Smith's were the closest thing to a pair of siblings Lloyd could've had growing up, and their bond still stays strong.

Lloyd still clings onto remnants of his short childhood. He will do things to heal his inner child.

There's articles and social media posts catching him swinging on a swingset with Cole, or getting icecream with Kai. He'll even go to a comic-con or two...or ten.

While the ninja aren't necessarily paid for their efforts, the city will give them a check every so often whenever Ninjago is saved by a big baddie.

However, if there are casualties or if the city is destroyed (Ex. The Great Devourer), that money will go back into repairing the city.

But, Nya keeps the finances in check, and knows how to haggle for anything the team may need (she threatens the salespeople).

But even with the extra money, some will seek a second responsibility. Pixal will do hybrid part-time jobs, and Jay will pick up a delivery contract for example. Something to take a break from daily training and punching bad guys.

They still have their golden weapon vehicles because I said so, and I like people on motorcycles. They also have spare backups that Nya has built from scratch. She almost strangled Jay for crashing that one.

And yes, Nya has a motorcycle, too.

But all in all, they've found each other as family, and it's ride or die with all of them. Especially Zane.

#been watching since the pilot #ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago hunted #ninjago headcanons #kai smith #cole brookstone #this is my info dump #i havent seen DR yet but im getting around to it I promise #ninjago x reader #maybe ill do a one shot if this gains enough traction #ninjago kai #ninjago lloyd

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foulphantomllama · 6 months ago

Text

The Pen: One-Shot | Pool Winner

Ahn Yujin x Male Reader (POV)

I was so tired that I go straight to bed when I arrived home. And then, of course I was late in the morning. I shouldn’t be late tho. Because today was a big day. I got out from the bed, brushed my teeth and wore my jeans and shirt in nearly just five minutes. I hoped into my car and drive straight to the record studio. I worked with many famous artists. But today, IVE were visiting us to record a special track. I was too excited to see my bias, Yujin. I dreamed about this day ever since I knew that they were coming to our studio. I even prepared my albums and photocards in order to get them signed by the group. But especially Yujin.

But there was a big problem. I already got the text from my friend that says they’re about to be here. And the problem was that I forgot my bag in home. As you can guess, I was already there, at the record studio. I rushed inside my booth and make my preparations. It was that moment that I realized that I forgot my bag at home. Fuck. There was no turning back from there. They’re here, our secretary opened the booths door and said to me. I went out from the booth and greet the girls. They were even more gorgeous than they look on the screen. Especially Yujin, oh boy she was glowing. I briefed them about the song and the standart procedure, then we started. I turned back to my booth. And we did a part of the recording. I was so dehydrated and I needed a cofee break. I got out from the recording booth and went downstairs to get myself a coffee. Many of my friends from work knew that I was obssessed with Yujin. Some of them were encouraging me to talk to her. I mean, I did not see the point? What is going to happend? We suddenly start dating? I got my coffee and went upstairs.

I returned to my place and give the greenlight to the team to start recording again. But suddenly, power went out. Generators were not working. This happened to us before tho. I was familiar with the problem so we just used the backup generators. But sadly, they were no good for powering up our recording gear. It was just for lights and kitchen. So that we can survive in the studio and do the lightwork until the problem gets fixed. Sometimes it get fixed quickly, sometimes it takes a remarkable amount of time. I went out to talk to the girls agent. This kind of artists were using different artists in different countries, in US, they working with an American agent. I never seen or heard about her. So I asked how many days will the girls will be around. She told me 4 maybe 5. I said that we may have to postpone the recording for today so that the girls go to their hotels and rest. She said it is a great idea. She went to the other room to make phonecalls to arrange a driver for the girls. During that time, I went into my cabin again and start looking at my phone. I never realized that Yujin was doing the same in the recording are. my eyes caught Yujin sitting in the recording area of the booth. She smiled and wawed at me. This was an interaction I was not expecting. I studied Korean in my University years and I was familiar with the language. Although has been a long time since I used it. I said, fuck it! When are you going to get the chance to talk to Yujin again? I got out of my section of the booth and get right inside to the recording area. She was wearing white knee socks, a crop tank top and jean shorts. And let me tell you, her shorts was literally short. I tried not to look at her legs and belly button so that I would not look like a creep in our first interaction.

I said hi with my broken Korean. She greeted me with a kind gesture. You know the little bowing they do when they greet somebody. I did the same. She asked me if I know Korean, or If i just know the basics like greeting and asking names. I said that I think that we can communicate in Korean. She said that not many Americans know Korean. “They barely know English don’t worry.” She laughed at my joke very loudly. I insulted my own people to make Yujin laugh. Totally worth it tho. We surprizingly started chatting about things about life and work. Then, their manager get inside the booth. And opened Google translate in order to tell Yujin something. She looked at me with a smiling face. It was a reference to the thing I said about Americans. I already fell into her humour. “I can translate.” I said to her agent. She relieved. “Tell her that we’re stuck here for a moment because I did not find any cars to drive them to the hotel.” I translated this to Yujin. She asked me to ask about the girls. “What about the other girls?” I asked. “They’re visiting the area with some guards. We can arrange a host for her if she wants to do so too.” I translated this too. Yujin replied “No, I will wait here. Thank you.” I was surprised. “She stays. Don’t worry she is in good hands.” I replied to the agent. She said whatever and went out. And she come back in “If the power does not fixed in a few hours we will go to the hotel somehow.” Again, I translated. She answered in English. “Okay.” The agent went out again.

Yujin continued in her cute english “She talks very much.” She giggled. I laughed. “You want a coffee?” She nodded. “Yes, please.” I went downstairs to get her a coffee in a flash. I grabbed a coffee want went upstairs very quickly. My friends were cheering for me. Of course there were cameras. I gave her the coffee and went into my recording booth, unplugged the camera and went back in. Our chat was too fun. We talked about music, industry, movies and many things. She is even a better person than you see and read in online. She is an angel. Literally.

My eyes were having a hard time trying not to look at her thighs and legs. But It was literally impossible. I tried to distract myself by saying that she is my bias in IVE. The moment I said this, her face blushed. I can see that she was embarassed. I tried to comfort her by saying “And you’re even prettier in real life.” I don’t think what I said helped her the slightest, but I wanted to say it anyways. But I can see that she was a little bit more comfortable about this whole situation when I said “I wanted to bring you my albums and wanted you to sign but..” She interrupted “What happened?” I answered, “I forgot them at home when I was trying to be here on time for you.” “Oh, that is so cute. I still sign them for you If you want.” I asked how can we do it. She answered. “Maybe I can come around with you and sign them for you. Is your house far away from here?”

That was an answer i did not expect. She just really wanted to come home with me? Should I do it? “It’s not very far away. A seven or eight minute drive and I’m home.” “Great!” she answered. As soon as we finish this recording, I will come with you and sign your albums she said. “We probably going to finish tomorrow. I bring them with me if you want.” She looked at me. “No, don’t carry them around with you. I can come with you.” I agreed. After a moment of silence, she took the last sip from her coffee and wanted a pen. I gave her mine. I always keep a pen in my pocket. She signed the paper cup and gave it to me. “Let’s start with this.” And then her agent came in. “Let’s go” she said, our car is here.

And she went with her agent. It was going so good that I did not wanted it to end. At least, I got a promise from her. She will come to my home and sign my albums and photocards. I did not mention this to anybody. And I went home. Later that night I got a text from the studio. The problem was fixed and the studio was ready for recording. At least we did half of the song. Only a few hours of work left to do.

As I was getting ready to go to bed, I got a notification. IT WAS FROM YUJIN. SHE MESSAGED ME. It was saying, “I got your instagram from our agent. She asked so many questions. LOL.” “Oh, Hi!” I texted back. And I wanted to be a little bit funny. “Do I know you, princess?” She sent me a sticker of a cat holding a heart. And texted “Can you send me pictures of your photocards?” I got up and took a little video of my binder for her, then sent it. She replied quickly. “Even from IZ*ONE?” “Yup.” I replied. “You deserve a lot of signs lol” She texted. And continued texting. “I need to sleep now but.. See you tomorrow.” She texted and sent that cat emoji again. I wished her good night. She liked my message. Then I went to sleep. Or at least I tried.

In the morning, if i completely be honest, I waited for a good morning message. I opened our chat and started typing things. But i did not sent anything. When I was doing so, she suddenly texted. “Morning. What were you typing?” I quickly had the control of the situation by saying; “I wanted to tell you good morning but i did not sure that you’re awake. And I did not want to wake you up.” The cat sticker. Again. “Your pen is with me right now. I forgot to give it back.” “You can keep it if you liked it” I replied. “Thank you, I will sign your albums with this. Haha.” She replied again. I said that I need to go to the studio. “See you at the recording.” I texted. She liked my message. But no cat sticker this time.

I arrived at the studio. The girls were already there. We quickly started the recording. It went pretty well. We finished even quicker than I expected. We wrapped up the recording and they left the studio. Except Yujin. When a K-Pop artist comes another country to record a special track, they had time to explore the country and buy some souvenirs. Yujin decided to spend her time with me. But her attitude was different from yesterday. She was like more.. intimitading. She approached me. This time she was wearing a skirt and a crop t-shirt. And a Nike shoe. That crop was a must. She loved to show her abs.

As we started to walk towards my car, she said that she needs a cover up before entering my car. She said someone might took her photos and start rumours. I gave her a cap and a long coat. We entered my car very quickly. And I drove her away from a safer zone. Along the way, she kept asking me personal questions. But the most important one was when she asked “Do you have a girlfriend?” “No” I answered. And I don’t know why i kept giving her my personal information but, i continued; “She cheated on me. So we broke up.” “What a bitch!” she answered. Then she quickly get emberassed because she swore. “Don’t worry” I said. You are still so cute when you are swearing. She laughed. “I wouldn’t cheat on you beacuse you’re a good person. And you’re handsome too.” She said. I was pretty shocked to hear this. I looked at her face. “Look at the road.” She turned my face towards to the road. “You will see my face enough today.” She continued. “It will never be enough tho.” I answered. “Sorry If i offended you by saying I wouldn’t cheat on you. I did not upsed you did I? “She asked. “Why would I be offended by that?” I asked. She kept her silence for a moment. And contiuned; “You always say I’m so cute, so beautiful, Aren’t I sexy and hot?” Okay. This was something different. She obviously trying to flirt with me. I was very close to get a one night stand with my bias. I was feeling confident.

We arrived my house. I opened her door and hold her hand while she got out from my car. She thanked me and we started walking to my house. I have a modest house. I am a successfull record producer. But also I try to live a humble life. She was fascinated by my house. I never understand if she was being polite or if she really liked it but, that was the situation.

After we entered the house, she said that if I have something fresh to drink. I offered her a beer or a coke. She took the beer. As he was drinking her beer, she got up and started to walk around my house. My record collection, my computer. She was taking a full interest in me. The she asked “Where are your albums and cards. I want to see them.” I gave her the bag. She started to sign them with my pen. And after some time she finished signing them. She put them onto my desk. And sit beside me. “Do you love me?” She asked. “What are you talking about?” I asked. “Come on, you said I’m your bias. Didn’t you ever jerked off to my fancam?” Okay. It was happening. “I think about it.” I said. I got a boner sometimes. But I did not jerked off to you.” She took of her phone and checked to clock. It was 2 P.M. “I need to be in the Hotel by 4 P.M.” She said. “We have two hours.” Two hours for what I asked. She didn’t even replied and just kissed me on the cheek. I hold her neck and started kissing her lips. She started to took my clothes off. I did the same. She was left with her socks and her bra. I was only with my pants and my socks. She took of my pants and sit on my leg. We were kissing very passionately. Our lips were sealed to each other and our tongues were dancing in each others mouth. I took off her panties. And I carried her to my bedroom. Throw her to the bed and get on top of her. I started to kiss her every inch. Her nose, her lips and her neck. I started to go down slowly. I squeezed her tits. My cock was rock hard. But kissing her soft lips and her soft boobs was feeling like heaven. But I needed to go down on her and eat her pussy. When I started to eat her pussy, her body was shaking with my every touch. She was getting goosebumps everytime i lick her clit. It was so wet and so soft. I started fingering her pussy. After a while, I gave her an orgasm. Her juice was all over my hand. I licked my hand and I turned her back and started licking her asshole. “Don’t, It’s so gross.” She said while moaning. I answered “No, I want this.” As she was moaning and saying things in Korean, I stopped licking her asshole. Gave her ass a good spank and turned her back to me. “I want to suck your cock.” She looked at me with her cute eyes. I lay down on my bed, she get up and started to suck my cock. Yujin was sucking my cock.

She was so good. As she sucked my cock, I felt like she was sucking my soul off from my body. “Are you coming?” She asked me. “Yes, a little bit more, then I will be coming.” She stopped and said; “Do you want to cum on my boobs or on my back?” “I want to cum on your belly button.” I said. “You do that.” I was about to cum, I said to her that I was about to cum. I hold my wet cock. And started jerking it off to Yujin’s belly. My ropes of cum were on her belly. She rub her belly with her finger and eat my cum. “You should have just cum into my mouth” She said. “We still have time” I said.

She asked me for a condom. I always carry one in my wallet. I took of my wallet and take the condom inside. She hand gestures me saying give me the condom. She took the condom into his hands. Her red nail polish looked so sexy while she is holding my cock. She put the condom on, and turn her back to me. She was bent over in front of me. I got closer to her pussy and kissed it. Then i put my cock into her pussy. She was moaning like hell. But I wasn’t gentle with her. I put the tip in, waited a second that put it all the way in. Very hard. I was hammering her. Holding her waist. I was holding her waist so hard that it was starting to go red. I let go of her waist and started to spank her ass. Left, right, left, right. With each spank, she was moaning a little more. I realized that I was about to cum, so I changed the position. Since she is very tiny, I was able to turn her face to me. I put her legs to my shoulder and took of her socks. Her little feet was on my face. I was kissing her feet wile i pound her pussy. She was screaming in English at this point. Then I put her legs down and get a little bit closer to her face. I was kissing her face as I was fucking her pussy. She was also scraching my back like crazy. As I pound her, she started to scrach a little bit more. At some point, I can feel that my back was bleeding.

She came for a second time. This time it was all over my cock and my legs. I continued to pound her pussy. I was about to cum. I took off the condom in a hurry, get closer to her face and cum on her face. She licked the cum near her lips. I gave her a napkin. She cleaned her face. Her face was so pink. I can tell that I fucked her really good. She hugged me. That hug was better than the sex. She looked at the time. “We have 20 minutes.” she said. “Where is your pen? I need your pen.” She continued. I got up and brought her the pen. She signed my left chest. And kissed it. “I was thinking about singing your forehead but you need to drive me to the hotel.” She said. I laughed. “Now I have two reasons not to take a bath” I said. “What was the first?” she asked. “Your smell is all over me. I never want it to disappear.” I answered. She hugged me again. “Will you help me dress up?” “Of course.” I answered. I helped her wear her clothes. She did not wear her bra and her socks. “You can keep those. In case you miss my smell.” She said. Then I asked “Will I Ever see you again?” She hugged me again and said; “I don’t think so. But If you see me again, you can be sure that we’re going to do this again.” I was devastated to hear that but, what else was going to happen? “I will text you tho.” She continued. “Now, let’s go. I’m going to be late.” I get dressed up and carried her to the car. As we were getting closer to the hotel, a sadness was taking over my body. Her little hand was on my thigh. It was a feeling that cannot be described with words.

Then we arrived at her hotel. She took off the pen one last time, put on her cap and coat and signed my forehead. Gave me a kiss on the lips. “Goodbye.” She said. “Goodbye.” I replied. As she got into the hotel and disappeared from my sight, I was just standing here. Frozen. Trying to process what happened in the last few hours. I smelled my right hand. It was still smelling like her.

And I drove off to my home.

THE END.

#ahn yujin #yujin ive #ive yujin #yujin #kpop smut #idol x male reader #yujin x male reader #ahn yujin x male reader

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