#i was a lucky duck and got to do TWO!!!
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ravenxbones · 1 year ago
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we’ve been given the go-ahead by @andpierres (our lovely zine host and mod!) to post our full pieces from the fall out boy seasons zine so here are the two i did! a flash sheet based on tttyg and a more illustrative piece based on pretty in punk from eowyg!
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galacticlamps · 6 months ago
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ok I have A Lot of thoughts about the staircase confession (well really about Edwin's whole character arc, but all roads lead to rome) but for now I just wanna say that, yes, I was bracing myself for something to go terribly wrong when I first watched it, and yes, part of me was initially worried its placement might be an uncharacteristically foolish choice made in the name of Drama or Pacing or Making a Compelling Episode of Television but at the expense of narrative sense--
But I wanna say that having taken all that into account, and watched it play out, and sat with it - and honestly become rather transfixed by it - I really think it's a beautifully crafted moment and truly the only way that arc could've arrived at such a satisfying conclusion.
And if I had to pinpoint why I not only buy it but also have come to really treasure it, I'd have to put it down to the fact that it genuinely is a confession, and nothing else.
That moment is an announcement of what Edwin has come to understand about himself, but because it takes the form of a character admitting romantic feelings for such a close friend, I think it can be very easy, when writing that kind of thing, to imbue it with other elements like a plea or a request or even the start of a new relationship that, intentionally or not, would change the shape of the moment and can quickly overshadow what a huge deal the telling is all on its own. But that's not the case here. Since it is only a confession, unaccompanied by anything else, and since we see afterward how it was enough, evidently, to fix the strangeness that had grown between him & Charles, we're forced to understand that it was never Edwin's feelings that were actually making things difficult for him - it was not being able to tell Charles about them. 'Terrified' as he's been of this, Edwin learns that his feelings don't need to either disappear completely or be totally reciprocated in order for him to be able to return to the peace, stability, and security of the relationship with which he defines his existence - and the scale of that relief a) tells us a hell of a lot about Edwin as a character and b) totally justifies the way his declaration just bursts out of him at what would otherwise be such a poorly chosen moment, in my opinion.
Whether or not they are or ever could be reciprocated, Edwin's feelings are definitively proven not to be the problem here - only his potential choice to bottle it up - his repression - is. And where that repression had once been mainly involuntary, a product of what he'd been through, now that he's got this new awareness of himself, if he still fails to admit what he's found either to himself or to the one person he's so unambiguously close with, then that repression will be by his own choice and actions.
And he won't do that. Among other things, he's coming into this scene having just (unknowingly) absolved the soul of his own school bully and accidental killer by pointing out a fact that is every bit as central to his self-discovery as anything about his sexuality or his attraction to Charles is: the idea that "If you punish yourself, everywhere becomes Hell"
So narratively speaking, of course it makes sense that Edwin literally cannot get out of Hell until he stops punishing himself - and right now, the thing that's torturing him is something he has control over. It's not who he is or what he feels, but what he chooses to do with those feelings that's hurting him, and he's even already made the conscious choice to tell Charles about them, he was just interrupted. But now that they're back together and he's literally in the middle of an attempt to escape Hell, there is absolutely no way he can so much as stop for breath without telling Charles the truth. Even the stopping for breath is so loaded - because they're ghosts, they don't need to breathe, but also they're in Hell, so the one thing they can feel is pain, however nonsensical. And Edwin certainly is in pain. But whether he knows what he's about to do or not when he says he 'just needs a tick,' a breather is absolutely not what's gonna give him enough relief to keep climbing - it's fixing that other hurt, though, that will.
Like everything else in that scene, there's a lot of layers to him promising Charles "You don't have to feel the same way, I just needed you to know" - but I don't think that means it isn't also true on a surface level. It's the act of telling Charles that matters so much more than whatever follows it, and while that might have gone unnoticed if anything else major had happened in the same conversation, now we're forced to acknowledge its staggering and singular importance for what it is. The moment is well-earned and properly built up to, but until we see it happen in all its wonderful simplicity, and we see the aftermath (or lack thereof, even), we couldn't properly anticipate how much of a weight off Edwin's shoulders merely getting to share the truth with Charles was going to be, why he couldn't wait for a better, safer opportunity before giving in to that desire, or how badly he needed to say it and nothing else - and I really, really love the weight that act of just being honest, seen, and known is given in their story/relationship.
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caterpillarinacave · 1 year ago
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I want words with the parent who decided to bring their kid to an intro to skating lesson while Covid positive.
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sugugasm · 3 months ago
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“NERDS DO IT BETTER.” | satoru gojo
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⟡ tags : nerd! satoru + popular! yn, gojo loses his virginity at the hot cheerleader’s house party - content includes : reader uses she/her pronouns, fem! reader, riding, fingering, inexperienced! gojo, pet names, etc. also shout out 2 my fav @ramonathinks m’ so proud of this piece bae i hope you luv it jus as much as i do !!! MDNI 19+ 3.7K WC
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satoru adjusted his glasses nervously as he and geto approached the sprawling mansion, music and laughter spilling out into the warm night air. “i don’t know about this, man,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. “parties aren’t really my scene.”
geto rolled his eyes. “come on, live a little! when was the last time you got out and socialized? besides, you-know-who will be here . .” he elbowed gojo with a knowing grin.
gojo flushed, ducking his head. “like [★] would even look twice at me. she’s so far out of my league it’s not even funny.”
“well yeah, not with that attitude!” geto chided. “you’re a catch, gojo. smart, funny, stupid handsome. any girl would be lucky to have you. just talk to her, be your charming self. what’s the worst that could happen?”
“she could laugh in my face?” gojo suggested glumly. “or have her quarterback boyfriend beat me up?”
geto sighed in exasperation, slinging an arm around his best friend's shoulders. “you’ll never know if you don’t try. [★] is single and i’ve seen her checking you out in class when she thinks no one’s looking. trust me, you’ve got a shot. don’t waste it being a pussy.”
gojo took a fortifying breath as they crossed the threshold into the packed house. “okay. i’ll talk to her. but if i crash and burn, you owe me a whole tub of ice cream and a weekend of binge gaming, no complaints.”
“deal,” geto agreed easily, scanning the crowd. “now let’s get you a drink and go find your dream girl.”
and within only an hour and several red solo cups later, gojo could be found sandwiched between two jocks on a couch, only half-listening to their drunken debate about the upcoming game. his eyes kept flicking to where you held court across the room, radiant in a barely-there crop top and mini-skirt as you laughed with your girls. you were a vision, beautiful hair and glowing skin and dangly earrings catching the light. ethereal, untouchable.
what would a goddess like you possibly want with a loser like him?
and as if on cue, your gaze met his and your glossy lips curved in a small secret smile, eyes sparkling with mischief. his breathing hitched and he looked away quickly, face heating. okay, maybe geto had a point about you noticing him . . .
“who wants to play seven minutes in heaven?” your bubbly friend tiffany trilled over the music, brandishing an empty vodka bottle. “let’s make things interesting!”
wolf-whistles and drunken cheers met her suggestion as people began arranging themselves in a loose circle. gojo watched you toss your hair over your shoulder as you joined, a strange fluttering in his stomach. he jumped when geto clapped him on the shoulder.
“dude, this is perfect!” geto crowed. “the ideal low-pressure way to get some one-on-one time with [★]. let's get you in that circle.” he started pulling a sputtering gojo up off the couch.
“wha-geto, no way!” gojo protested, but it was too late. geto had already shoved him into the circle, right across from you. you quirked an eyebrow at him and his stomach somersaulted. was that a pleased gleam in your eyes?
the bottle made a few uneventful rounds - geto got seven giggly minutes with the head of the drama club, a blushing band student got dragged off by her fellow tuba player, and then . . tiffany passed the bottle to you with a significant look. gojo’s heart started smacking against his chest as you placed it in the center and gave it a deft spin, slender wrist twisting gracefully.
he watched with bated breath as the bottle rotated, transfixed. it seemed to spin for an eternity before finally slowing . . and stopping. neck pointed directly at gojo. blood roared in his ears as hoots and hollers erupted around the circle. you were looking right at him, a small smile playing about your glossy lips. “guess s’ jus’ you n’ me, cutie,” you said with a wink, getting elegantly to your feet.
in a daze, gojo stumbled upright, barely registering the good-natured ribbing and back slaps from the other players. you held out a hand to him and he took it automatically, skin tingling where it met yours. your fingers laced intimately through his as you tugged him away from the group . . . and toward the stairs?
“um, [★]?” gojo asked, voice cracking humiliatingly. “isn’t the closet that way?”
you threw a smile over your shoulder and his knees nearly buckled. “i got a better spot in mind. somethin’ more . . private.”
by the time his sluggish brain processed the implications of that, you were leading him into a bedroom. your bedroom, if the riot of pink and stuffed animals everywhere was any indication. you flicked on a lamp, bathing the space in soft flattering light.
gojo stood awkwardly by the door, heart doing double-time as he drank in the adorable organized chaos. various raye, boygenius, and sanrio posters on the walls, rainbow lego sets on the shelves. it was delightfully telling and somewhat . . surprising, so at odds with your smokeshow attitude and queen bee reputation. he was utterly charmed.
“sorry about the mess,” you said, sounding uncharacteristically shy as you perched on the edge of the lacy bedspread. “i know it’s a lot.”
“no, i love it!” gojo blurted, then winced. real smooth. “i mean, it’s really cute. suits you.”
“yeah?” you asked, sounding pleased. you patted the space beside you in clear invitation. “i don’t bite . . unless i’m asked nicely. c’mon, come sit with me, gojo.”
on slightly unsteady legs, he crossed the plush rug to sink down next to you, hyperaware of the warmth of your bare thigh against his denim-clad one. “so, um, i don’t really know how this is supposed to go,” he admitted, rubbing his neck. “i’m not exactly a seven minutes in heaven expert.”
“well, we’ve got some time to figure it out together,” you said, angling your body toward his. “maybe we could start with just talking? get to know each other a little?”
so that’s what you did. you started off with the typical small talk - classes, hobbies, favorite bands. but the conversation quickly deepened and expanded. you found yourself opening up to him, confessing your secret dreams and fears, things you rarely shared with anyone. in turn, he revealed his geeky passions, his insecurities, his hopes for the future.
the more you learned about the sweet, clever, quietly funny boy beneath the nerdy exterior, the more your heart softened and warmed. he was so genuine, so different from the jocks and rich boys you usually ran with. being with him felt comfortable, natural, intoxicating.
at some point, you’d shifted closer to him on the bed, your folded legs overlapping his, shoulders brushing. as you giggled your way through an anecdote, you rested a hand on his strong thigh without thinking. he tensed slightly and you felt a little thrill, a flicker of heat. you squeezed gently, fingertips pressing into firm muscle.
“m’ probably boring you,” you said with a wry smile, glancing at him through your lashes. “jus’ rambling on about myself. we could do something else, if you want. maybe, y’know, uphold the seven minutes tradition . .”
he inhaled sharply and you thrilled at the effect you were clearly having on him. “you mean . . you want to kiss me?”
“i mean, i definitely wouldn’t object,” you murmured coyly. “i like you a lot, satoru. in case it isn’t already obvious.”
his blue eyes darkened behind his glasses. “i really like you too, [★],” he said, voice low and rough. “an embarrassing amount.”
“yeah?” you breathed. “so are you going to kiss me, or . . do i have to beg?”
his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “well, um. i-i’ve never really done anything like that before,” he admitted with an awkward chuckle. “i don’t even know how i’ve gotten this far.”
“that’s okay,” you assured him, placing a hand on his knee and feeling him tense slightly under your touch. “we can take it slow, figure it out together. m’ not exactly an expert either.”
he nodded, looking relieved and grateful for your understanding. emboldened, you leaned in, giving him time to pull away. spoiler alert, he didn’t. his eyes just fluttered closed as you brushed your lips softly over his. they were warm and smooth, molding sweetly to your own. after a moment of stillness, he started to move his mouth tentatively against yours.
you let him set the pace, parting your lips in silent invitation. his tongue shyly traced the seam of your mouth and you opened for him on a sigh. he licked inside carefully, exploring you with gentle curiosity that made warmth bloom through your veins. you stroked your tongue along his, encouraging, and felt him shudder against you.
slowly, you sank back into your mountain of pillows, pulling him down with you. he settled over you carefully, a pleasant weight, strong and solid in all the right places. your fingers tangled in his dark hair as the kisses deepened, wetter, hotter. his own hands skimmed down your sides to settle on your hips, squeezing gently as he rocked subtly against you.
when you finally broke apart, you were both flushed and breathing unsteadily. “is this okay?” you checked, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “we can stop anytime if you’re uncomfortable.”
he shook his head immediately, eyes dark and intense behind his slightly fogged glasses. “no, i don’t wanna’ stop. i want you so bad, [★]. i’m just nervous i’ll do something wrong.”
your heart melted. “you won’t, satoru,” you promised. “we’ll go slow, i’ll show you. s’ all a process, ‘kay? jus’ do what feels good.”
he nodded, some of the tension easing from his frame. you pulled him back down for another kiss, lush and lingering. as your mouths moved together, you fumbled for the hem of his shirt, rucking it up his back. he broke away just long enough for you to pull it over his head and toss it aside before his lips found yours again.
your hands roamed his bared torso greedily, marveling at the lean muscle, the heat of his skin. gojo might look like a lanky nerd at first glance, but his body told a completely different story. you wanted to map every ridge and plane with your hands and mouth, discover all the secret places that would make him shake and gasp and moan. he shivered as your fingers skimmed over his ribs, his stomach, thumbs just brushing his nipples.
he made a hungry sound into your mouth when you lingered there, circling the tender buds questioningly. taking the hint, you tweaked them gently, rolling the sensitive flesh between your fingers. he jolted against you as if electrified, a moan vibrating in his chest.
“y’like that,” you guessed, doing it again and feeling his hips stutter forward helplessly into the cradle of your thighs.
“y-yeah,” he breathed, sounding almost surprised himself. “it feels really good.”
spurred on by his responsiveness, you devoted yourself to taking him apart, finding all the places that made him twitch and pant and whimper so sweetly. you kissed across his collarbones, scraped your teeth over his pulse point, soothed the sting with your tongue. you felt dizzy with him, drunk on the salt of his skin, his scent of clean and arousal, the incoherent sounds he made under your touch.
before long he was squirming restlessly against you, hard and insistent against your hip. “please,” he mumbled into your hair. “i need . .”
“what do you need?” you coaxed, nipping at his jaw. “tell me.”
he shuddered, hands flexing on your hips as he ground subtly against you. “i need — fuck, i need to touch you. need you to touch me. god, [★], i don’t know, i just . . please?”
“shhh, don’t stress, honey,” you soothed even as heat surged through you at his breathless plea. “let me take care of you.”
hooking a leg around his waist, you flipped your positions in one smooth motion, straddling his hips. he gazed up at you with something like awe, eyes wide and dark, lips kiss-swollen. your heart tripped over itself at the picture he made, wrecked and wanting in your rumpled sheets. quickly, before you could lose your nerve, you stripped off your own top and unhooked your bra, baring yourself to his heated stare. his hands came up immediately to cup your breasts, palming the soft weight greedily before catching your nipples between his fingers.
“aah!” you gasped, arching into the touch as sparks shot down your spine to throb between your legs. your hips rolled down against his, your clothed sexes grinding together deliciously. “y-yes, gojo, jus’ like that!”
emboldened by your encouragement, he explored your body just as thoroughly as you had his, broad hands and curious fingers finding all your most sensitive places. you were panting and mewling by the time he reached the button of your skirt with a questioning glance.
“please,” you whimpered, lifting your hips to help him shimmy the fabric down your legs. your panties quickly followed, leaving you bare to his burning gaze. and slowly, almost reverently, he reached out to touch — he couldn’t help it, fingertips skimming up your inner thighs. you shivered and parted them further in silent invitation. his eyes locked on yours as he carefully traced your slick folds, circling your aching entrance before moving up to swirl over your clit.
“show me how you like it?” he rasped, voice low and rough with arousal.
biting back a whimper, you covered his hand with your own, directing his movements. “like this,” you instructed breathlessly, guiding his fingers in tight circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves. “a little firmer, mmm . .”
he followed your lead perfectly, rubbing and stroking until your thighs were quaking and you were moaning brokenly. it felt good, so good, but you needed more. “inside,” you pleaded when coherent thought became difficult. “gojo, please, put one inside . .” he swore under his breath at your words but quickly obeyed, carefully sinking one long finger into your fluttering heat. you cried out sharply at the intimate penetration, hips canting down to take him deeper. he watched your face avidly as he started to pump in and out, curling and twisting gently as he went.
“m-more,” you gasped, head thrown back as he found a particularly sensitive spot. “another, toru, i can take it.”
he groaned like he was the one being pleasured as he pushed a second finger in alongside the first, stretching you so exquisitely. he scissored gently, working you open, before crooking them just right to rub firmly against your g-spot.
you collapsed forward onto his chest with a fractured moan, fingers scrabbling at his heaving shoulders as he massaged that magic button with devastating accuracy. you knew you could easily come just like this, spitted on his clever fingers, but it wasn't what you wanted. not for your first time together.
“gojo,” you panted, catching his wrist to still his movements. “i wan’ you inside . .”
his eyes widened with understanding and he swallowed audibly. “a-are you sure?” he asked hoarsely even as his hips twitched up against yours eagerly.
“i’ve never been more sure of anything,” you said fiercely, holding his gaze so he could read the sincerity there. “i wan’ you, all of you. please.”
he nodded jerkily. “i want you too,” he said, voice low and intent. "so much, you have no idea.”
then he was kissing you again, hot and urgent, his tongue delving deep as large hands palmed your ass, rocking you against his straining erection. you moaned into his mouth, already imagining how he would feel inside you, stretching and filling you so perfectly.
together, you managed to wrestle him out of his jeans and underwear, your focus narrowing to the breathtaking sight of him laid bare beneath you. all long limbs and lean muscle, skin flushed with arousal, cock thick and hard against his taut stomach. he was beautiful, exquisite, unreal.
“let me . . .” you murmured almost to yourself as you shifted down his body, wanting to taste, to tease. but he caught your shoulders, stopping you.
“next time,” he said with a slightly shy smile at odds with the high color in his cheeks, the stark arousal in his gaze. “i don’t think i’d last right now and i really, really want to be inside you when i cum. if-if that’s okay.”
oh, that was more than okay. it was basically the hottest thing you'd ever heard. “definitely okay,”you confirmed a little breathlessly, reaching for the condom you’d stashed optimistically in your nightstand.
with trembling hands, you opened the packet and rolled the latex down his rigid length. he twitched in your grip when you gave him a few strokes, thumb swirling through the bead of moisture at his tip. “fuck,” he choked out, head tipping back. “you gotta stop or i'll . .”
“i know, baby. i know,” you soothed, moving to straddle his hips once more. your eyes locked as you notched him at your entrance, his hands coming up to grip your hips almost hard enough to bruise. “ready?” at his jerky nod, you sank down slowly, taking him inch by careful inch. he stretched you exquisitely, walls fluttering to accommodate his girth. when your hips met his, you were both panting, pulses racing, skin flushed with pleasure-pain.
“god,” he choked out after a long moment, sounding absolutely wrecked. “you feel incredible. so fucking tight.”
you clenched around him experimentally, walls hugging him ever so sweetly, and he bucked up into you with a low groan. “gojo,” you gasped, nails digging into his chest. “you’re so deep, so big . .”
“am i hurting you?” he asked, brow creased with concern even as he visibly struggled to keep still.
“n-no,” you assured him. “no s’ perfect, you feel fucking perfect. jus’ . . go slow. lemme’ adjust.”
he did, rocking into you with shallow little thrusts that gradually deepened as you relaxed around him. soon you were moving together, finding a rhythm, the drag of him in and out sparking pleasure along every nerve ending. you leaned down to kiss him messily, all tongue and panted breaths as your hips rolled and ground in tandem.
“i’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted between kisses, hands roaming restlessly over your back, your breasts, your ass. “wanted you. still can’t believe this is real.”
“s’ real,” you promised breathlessly, rising and falling faster on his cock as the tension coiled tighter in your core. “i’m real and i’m yours, gojo, all yours . .”
he made a rough sound, fingers digging into your hips as he started thrusting up harder, hitting that perfect spot inside you on every stroke. “mine,” he agreed, voice gravelly and low, sending shivers down your spine. “my [★], fuck, you’re absolutely perfect . .”
you could only moan in response, lost to the sensation of him moving inside you, hitting you so deep, stoking the fire in your belly to an inferno. your thighs burned, sweat blooming on your skin as you chased your peak, so close, almost . .
gojo was close too, you could tell by the telltale twitch and throb of him inside you, his thrusts going erratic. “m’ gonna’ cum,” he warned hoarsely, fingers scrabbling at your hips. “m’ gonna’ cum, m’ gonna’ cum . . i-i can’t h-hold —”
“yes - yes, yes, yes,” you gasped, grinding down hard, fingers flying over your clit. “cum in me satoru, wanna feel you, baby . .”
his hands grip your ass cheeks, spreading them apart before giving you two more sharp thrusts, leaving him cumming with a guttural moan of your name, pulsing hot inside you as you clenched and rippled around him. the feeling of him throbbing and spilling in you was enough to tip you over the edge, a cry tearing from your throat as you shattered around him, cumming so hard you saw white.
you collapsed onto his chest as aftershocks rolled through you, his hips still rocking shallowly into yours, drawing out your mutual pleasure. for a minute, you just panted together, sweat cooling on your skin, pulses calming. you felt him soften up and slip out of you and winced a little at the loss, a tender ache between your thighs. you’d have beard burn too, you just knew it. but it had been more than worth it.
satoru’s hands continued to stroke your back, your hair, as if he was reluctant to let go. you felt the same, luxuriating in his warmth, his scent, the sound of his heartbeat thumping steadily beneath your ear. you never wanted to move.
eventually though, he shifted beneath you and you lifted your head to find him gazing at you with soft, wondering eyes. “hey,” he said quietly, brushing your now-wild hair back from your face. “so, are we like, y’know . .”
“dating?” you finished, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. “yes, but only if you want that.”
his answering smile was like the sun coming out. “y-yeah, yeah. i want that. i’ve always wanted that.” he leaned up to kiss you slow and deep, tongue delving languorously into your mouth. “thank you. for showing me. for everything.”
“right back at you,” you murmured against his lips, heart so full it felt like it might burst. “m’ glad i got the chance.”
“me too.” he nuzzled his nose against yours sweetly. “so . . whaddo’ you wanna’ do now?”
you pulled back slightly to search his face, seeing both hope and trepidation there. “well, i was thinking . . maybe we could cuddle for a lil’ while longer. then, i dunno’, raid the flooded kitchen for snacks. come back up here n’ skip the party . . we could watch a movie? kinda jus’ . . see where it goes.”
relief and happiness shone from his eyes. “i’d really like that. a lot.”
“good.” you pecked his lips once more before settling back onto his chest, ear pressed over his heart. “s’ a date then.” you knew you’d have to leave this little bubble eventually, face the real world and whatever challenges it might bring. but right now, you didn’t care about any of that. right now, you had gojo, warm and solid beneath you, his fingers laced gently through your hair as exhaustion started to pull you under. you had this perfect moment, and the promise of more to come.
as you drifted off, lulled by his heartbeat and even breathing, a small smirk played about your lips.
damn, guess the rumors were true.
nerds really did just do it better.
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★ SUGUGASM 2024 | please don’t copy, translate or share my work on other platforms without my consent.
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elizzsush · 5 months ago
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Future Child | Twisted Wonderland
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Malleus Draconia X Reader
----It wasn’t everyday you’d find a three year old running around campus causing a ruckus. Usually students wouldn’t have to deal with this, but with Crowley you had to deal with everything. Now… why is it when you catch this small trouble maker it calls you “momma”?
AUs: None Rating: SFW
Note: Hi, hi! So, basically, I wasn't going to finish this and posted it as a WIP and people really liked it. So, then I had no other choice but to finish it! And I hope you like it.
____________________________________
Crowley in-listed you to help with the child problem around school. No, wait that sounded bad. A young fae no older than five got into night raven campus and has been running amok. Some students say he appeared out of thin air. So, obviously, you: the defenseless, Magic-less human with no knowledge of fae or even how some of these basics of this world work, you were the schools best bet against this ‘threat.’ And so, your oh so kind instructor pushed this task onto you and left.
Not without you demanding an extra allowance, but still.
Thankfully, you were well equipped with a grumpy cat-weasel thing who is so glad to help and definitely did not try and run away. “Ehh? Why do I have to help ya??” Grim whined as he hung limply, your hand firmly grasping his scruff as you held him up. He was so generous and did not need to be bribed at all.
You sighed, “I’ll put some money aside from this to get you tuna.” Technically, that was a lie. No, you were going to fix the window Grim broke from practicing his magic in the house, again.
“I want two cans!” The motivated cat purred and jumped onto your shoulders. Now, you can finally begin your mission and take on this… threat...?
This threat was a real threat!
The sight of the frozen cafeteria did scare you. You had learnt that after you had stumbled upon the frozen dinning hall; all of this was from the baby fae! What on Earth were you suppose to even do once you caught the child?
How would you catch this kid without being frozen exactly? Why were you put on this task?
There was a mountain of ice and a many frozen students who were actively being saved by other students most of whom were made to help. They had gotten lucky in your option. They didn’t have to find the kid. “So much magic…" An awestruck student said, "it’s hard to believe a kid did this.” The nameless person mumbled as they helped thaw the room out. You couldn’t help but hum in agreement to yourself.
What kid could do this when Deuce struggled with making anything but cauldrons while he was somewhere new! It was… overwhelming magic for sure. Even for you to stand in the middle of it, magicless. And this was just the dining hall!
Apparently, you had three more places to check out.
“Not much to see here.” Grim grumbled from your shoulder, just then a ball of fire came hurtling towards the two of you! “Eek!!” Grim squealed jumping of your shoulder while you ducked.
“Sorry!” A no name student called out… He had been using the fire to dethaw some students.
“We should leave… and fast.” You said as you turned to leave in a hurry. You tripped on the ice almost tripped on the ice while you left.
.
.
.
The very next place you checked was the courtyard, where Mr. Vargas liked to make you run in the blistering heat. PE was horrible. Everyone else got to be on their dumb magic brooms while you were stuck doing laps.
Mr. Vargas did like to make the boys sweat afterwards though. You got to sit on the grass and laugh at them cheer them on! Especially Ace, who always lagged behind.
Anyway, in the place of the field of green grass that your peers used to practice flying on a broom, was a field of fire. Green fire no less. At least it was still green? You stayed a distance away while you watched a group of five students try and summon water magic to help fight these flames. “If you don’t do this right, it’ll be off with your heads!” Next to them, a familiar short, red-haired boy was shouting at them and telling them what they were doing wrong.
You liked to think it wouldn't actually be off with their heads, Riddle was above that... Now. You liked to think it was just motivation to make them work harder!
Because it was mostly Heartslabyul students, it worked. "Hey! Riddle?" You called out to the boy. The Housewarden looked at you and jogged up to meet you a way away from the green flames. Was Sebek here as well? You swore you heard his voice shouting...
"You shouldn't be here. This area is off-limits to anyone outside of the Equestrian club because of the danger." Riddle crossed his arms; his tone was pretty gentle though. You nodded along to what he was saying, because it made sense.
"Crowley wants us to find the Fae doing this, do you know anything about it?" You decided to get right to the point. Riddle was busy enough as it was. He seemed to appreciate it too.
The boy glanced back at the students trying to figure out how to calm the fire and shook his head. "I think I heard a few third years mention a blur of H/C going into the school." He mentioned, you mostly knew the kid was in the school. It was one of the places Crowley wanted you to check out, Mr. Trein's class, after that you didn't really know where the kid could be.
You smiled and thanked Riddle before turning to leave, the boy glanced back at the fire before stepping a bit closer to you, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. "Uh- Y/N, I was wondering if you wanted to have tea with me later I-"
"Dorm leader! it's spreading!" A student shouted out, a panicked look on their face as they rushed up to the two of you. Riddle muttered something under his breath, before jogging back to the fire. To step up to calm the flames even more than what the regular student could do so you left.
“This seemed handled enough…” You muttered, a bit disappointed that you didn't get to finish your conversation with Riddle, Grim simply rolled his eyes and you two turned to leave.
.
.
.
You went to Mr. Trein’s classroom next. Your most boring class of twisted wonderland, history, uh... you think. Truthfully you hadn’t stayed awake long enough to know what class he taught.
It was not for lack of trying either!
He just drew out his words and spoke in just a boring robotic tone, it could put anyone to sleep! I digress. The cat: Lucius liked you too, he tended to let you sleep more while waking up other students.
Anyway, in place of the classroom was… an overgrown forest? In the center of it, you noticed a tall, well groomed, teal haired male, squatting down to examine what appeared to be a mushroom….
Obviously. it was Jade. He was part of the Mountain Lovers Club. The sole member actually if you remember right. Crowley mentioned something about the clubs handling the situations. So...
This seemed… handled-ish….
You would be taking your leave now. You closed the door silently and Grim groaned. "This is so boring." He whined, "Why do we have to do this?!" You shrugged slightly.
"Crowley said he'll give an extra allowance this week if we do this." You mumbled, "We could really use it to fix that window you broke." You reminded the cat. He huffed and glared at you a bit childishly, crossing his furry arms silently on your shoulder.
"I thought you said I could have extra tuna?" He realized, jumping off your shoulder he pointed at you in an accusatory manner; you sighed a bit.
You didn’t have time to find him right now. "We can talk about this later." You walked past him but when he didn't follow you, you turned around.
Where did Grim go...? You looked around the halls for him, "Grim?!" Didn’t he know not to wonder off while there was a threat on campus!
Where did Grim go...? You looked around the halls for him, "Grim?!" Didn’t he know not to wonder off while there was a threat on campus!
This fae would eat him alive!
Feeling even more motivated and slightly panicked, you ran off to find the cat and disregard the threat that was getting killed by meeting this Fae kid unarmed. Uncated? Either way.
.
.
.
.
“Someone help me!” You finally heard Grims's voice after looking for him for... quite a while actually. Pushing the door to the classroom open, you found...
Nothing.
Every potion was on its self, the stirring sticks where the usually go, nothing burned, frozen, or overgrown nothing was… well anywhere. At least anywhere out of place. “Someone, help me!” A cried out a very familiar voice squeaked out. Hesitantly, you walked closer to where you heard Grim’s voice.
This felt like something out of a horror movie.
A cauldron, inside of it was the soft glow of blue flames. No doubt caused by Grins fire ears. “Grim…?” You spoke softly. Peeking inside the steel pot, you saw a young boy, a long tail curled up beside him and one horn on the side of his head. In his arms was Grim, held tightly like he was a stuffed animal. He sniffled and then looked up at you with the most striking green eyes you’ve ever seen…
“Y/n!” Grim cried out, relief flooding his voice and breaking you from the little boy's curse of cuteness.
You plucked Grim from the kid's arms and He crawled onto your shoulders.
“Momma!” The boy, still in the cauldron yelled out, stumbling to get up and jump into your arms, get hindered by the caldron he found himself stuck in. His face was red from tears, and he looked scared… his small hands shaking with fear. He sniffled more, his chubby hands rubbing away his tears as they fell. Your heart ached slightly seeing those tears.
This can't be the same boy running amok in the school's campus. He was just so... non-threatening?
So, without a second thought. You picked the small boy up and cooed at him. Grim stared at you bewildered, His experience far more intimidating them yours.
Didn't you know how tight that boy was holding him?! Poor Grim almost didn't make it. He whined and frowned at the attention you were giving the boy.
Now, you just had to take this sweetheart to Crowley.
Either way, the small boy was absolutely adorable! Sure, he may or may not have caused this week's class cancelations but really, Ace was thanking the boy for it, so all was fine! Back at ramshackle, you realized, he was just a kid.
He was using some crayons to draw. He screamed like a bit of a brat when you tried to make him eat some broccoli you got... You thought it would be good for you and grim and neither of you ate it.
His big electric green eyes that reminded you of… someone? But who was it again? Well, it didn’t matter. The boy had green eyes, H/ced hair and these two small slightly curled horns on top of his head.
His ears were pointed just like a fae’s but just slightly? They weren’t as long nor as sharp as a regular fae’s like Lilia. It was hard to explain. It was the oddest thing- he had a tail as well! A long blackish purple one at that. And he was excellent at magic, if the destroyed campus told you anything. “Are you mad at me?” He looked up at you with teary eyes after you informed Crowley you caught him.
“Why would I be mad at you?” You asked the small boy curiously, blinking at him a bit confused at the question. His large electric green puppy eyes weren’t exactly helping you stand strong and not coddle him either.
“Because I made the rooms a mess…” he rubbed his large cheeks free from stray tears. Not that he was any good at it either, you just shook your head and kneeled to the floor, wiping them away for him.
Something about this boy made you wanted to care for him and protect him- he was just do cute. “Nonsense, you were scared. A little mess is fine as long as you weren’t hurt.” When you looked at him you felt something akin to cuteness aggression. This little fae was adorable! If Crowley didn’t find his parents, you’d take him in!
Ignore how poorly you yourself lived in ramshackle! And how much of your food was canned tuna because Grim insisted on it over actual food.
And the window that you still needed to fix and were most likely going to spend this week's allowance on...
The boy nodded, cuddling into your side like a small cuddly cat.
__________________________
He was adorable but children were a handful.
Crowley, after assigning you to catch the kid, gave you the poor child to take care of. So, you had been living with the child for three whole days.
Not to say the kid- who’s name you learned was Casper- was a handful. In fact, he was a sweetheart. He tended to shy away from things a bit, and he was a bundle of nerves sometimes.
He definitely got overwhelmed when left by himself, often resorting to crying and when he cried his magic tended to...
Anyway, Despite the amount of magic he held at his fingertip, he’d rush to you at the slightest creak of the floorboards, held onto you tightly, and hide his face in your shirt.
When it was finally time to go to school you didn’t really know what to do with the kid…? We’re you suppose to just… bring a kid to class with you? I mean, you already bring a cat, and the kid would probably be more well behaved then Grim.
So you brought Casper with you. And it was fine He was very sweet, maybe a little to shy, the teachers did love him. He introduced himself to them from behind your leg.
That was two days ago, now you were in the cafeteria. You hadn't been here in two days because, well you weren't sure if Casper would be okay around the crowd of students. Some of whom were still bitter about the Ice things... and the green fire thing.
“Fufufu, what do we have here?” Lilia popped up out of absolutely nowhere. "I heard a rumor about a trouble make~" He smirked.
“Grandpa Lilia!” The kid for once didn’t shy away. You had expected him to start crying. (He had before after all, when Jade introduced himself to the boy.) Lilia simply smiled and accepted the boy's affections, nodding along as he babbled about his day. Meanwhile, you were staring bewildered at the boy.
And... That was your lunch.
With of course, Ace and Deuce coming to keep you company while Lilia entertained Casper.
Most of your lunch you'd glance at the two. 'Grandpa Lilia?' You wondered why he was unusually not shy? He was a talkative boy to you, but with a stranger, no way... “Where Papa?” He asked looking up at the older fae with his large sparkling eyes. Oh, maybe Lilia knew the boy's parents! He was an older fae himself, right?
“Yes, good question indeed where is your papa?” Lilia asked, before he looked at you, a small smirk on his face, he looked at you like you’d know! You didn’t. You had tried to correct the kid on you being his mom before two- he cried and sulked over it for a while after that. “Well, I best be Off now!” Lilia cheered and gave you the kid back before disappearing off somewhere.
That was weird right?
You day went on- Ace and Deuce were good around the kid. Casper was pretty decent around Ace and Deuce, not too shy but he wasn't rambling like he was around Lilia. "Is something on your mind?" Deuce asked curiously, a mild layer of unwarranted concern.
"It's fine..." You shrugged, "I just hope Crowley find Caspers parents soon." You sighed, and the boy in question looked at you confused. He called you Mom and you basically took care of him, so you figured he thought you were his mom.
Not that you really minded, it wasn't like he thought you were old, fae tended to not age and stay good looking forever basically. Case in point, Lilia.
You really didn't mind, you already took care of Grim, so what's another, milder tempered Grim who didn't run away? "Speaking of the kid- Where is he?" Ace asked, looking around.
Scratch that, the kid wondered off.
"Oh no." You sighed and looked at the Adeuce duo with an exhausted look they couldn't say no too. They'd help you find the kid.
__________________________
How on earth did Sebek of all people get Casper?
Sebek, a first year in your class. Some loud guy who you got partnered up with once.
Why didn't Casper run away! You most certainly would and have. Instead, you found Casper on Sebek Zigvolt of all people's shoulders. Now you and Ace were whispering about how to get the kid back. No way you were going to go up to Sebek of all people and have to listen to his "fae are superior" speech... again.
"We should... Lure Casper away with candy." You whispered, Ace gave you a look and shot down your idea.
"Do you want to give him the impression that you should follow random people with candy?" He said looking at you like you just had the worst idea ever. "I say we just grab him and run."
"No, Sebek is faster than us." You noted, "Especially you, he runs laps past you in PE." Ace bumped your shoulder with an eyeroll.
"Where's Deuce?" Ace frowned, you watched with wide eyes as you saw Deuce confidently walk up to Sebek... "oh no." Ace groaned and run up behind Deuce.
You cursed to yourself. "We don't have to follow right...?" you asked the cat who agreed with you, but you knew you kind of had to follow them.
"Hey- Sebek." You smiled awkwardly.
"Mama!" The kid called out to you and reached out towards you. he almost fell off Sebek's shoulders- thankfully you caught him. Sebek looked at you in confusion and maybe a bit judgmentally...?
"No- he isn't..." You sighed and gave up.
"A human couldn't mother a Fae of Caspers caliber!" And so... Sebek began his rant. He started with how Lilia informed him of the situation, and he was here to lift the burden of Casper from your human shoulders.
Really, it saved you the time of informing Sebek you were in fact, not a teen mom. Also, it was weirdly insulting? Like hey, come on, you’ve taken care of him for three days! Almost four, “Casper is pretty happy with me, right sweetie?” You asked the boy who nodded hesitatingly. Wait- hesitantly? “Huh?”
Sebek looked a bit disheartened the Fae kid rejected him, but he was also kind of confused as well. “It’s just… I miss Papa, Mama…” the boys lips quivered a bit.
“No, no! You're not in trouble.” You fell to your knees to comfort the boy.
Apparently Sebek was hanging out with the child because he thought he was Malleus but something went wrong. Perhaps someone used their unique magic in the future ruler of briar valley.
Um… who’s Malleus?
________________
Day four of having a child.
Today you were going to find this kid someone who looked close enough to his dad. I mean, you apparently looked like his mom enough, so… yeah!
Also, perhaps his brother went to this school and that was how he ended up here. Finding him a dad sounded fun though.
It was a solid plan… “Casper?” You woke the boy up. You put Casper in the guest bedroom ace usually occupied when he was collared. Which was often. Even with Riddle being looser on the rules Ace always pushed sadly. “Today we’re finding your father.” You informed the boy.
“Really!” His eyes lit up. Why didn’t you do this sooner?
“Mhm, just tell me what he looks like-“ and so began Caspers rant on how amazing his father was. How he always makes time for you two even though he’s so busy, how good he was at playing superhero’s- and so on.
You didn’t even realize superhero’s existed here. Crazy. “He has black horns like me!” He grinned up at you, “oh- and black hair and we have the same eyes!” He giggled before again going on about how awesome his dad was.
“Horns, black hair, green eyes…” you mumbled, “and you're a fae, so we should probably go to Diasomnia, they have the most fae of the dorms” you smiled brightly. “This Malleus guy seems promising- and if he doesn’t want to, I’ll just make him!” You cheered and with Casper on your shoulders you were out the door!
.
.
.
Was it just you or was Diasomnia slightly terrifying?
 Either way, with Casper on your shoulders like you were going to the zoo, you walked on the winding path with thorns around it and into the dorm. The halls were… very long and castle-like. 
Eventually you found the dorm's common room. Witch had three students, only one of which was a fae. With as much confidence you could muster, you approached them. “Hello! Good evening gentlemen… Um, do you happen to know someone whom this child looks like?” You smiled and proceeded to the kid. 
They very politely actually said that they think he looks like Malleus. You asked them to point you to this Malleus, and they again very politely refused. Apparently he was a busy man which was fair. But he was a father now! If casper deems him fit enough (By that you mean mistake him for his father like the boy did you.)
Still, throughout this process, you couldn't help but wonder if you were forgetting someone. 
You kept glancing at Caspers horns… who else did you know with horns? “Tsunotarou! That's who you look like!” You finally realized after an embarrassingly long time. In your defense you had only met the guy once or twice while you were dealing with Leona’s stupid plan, and didn’t Leona mention Malleus during his overblot?
“That's what you call Papa!” Casper cheered, his eyes widening in awe. Okay so, either that was a common name… which you doubt or Casper had a weird background. 
“Khee Khee what do we have here?” Lilia appeared out of nowhere! …again, still you jumped! 
“Mama is going to find Papa today!” Casper cheered in all his three year old glory. Picking the boy up and lifting him to sit on your hit you nodded. 
“Mhm! I’m going to meet this… Malleus demands he becomes Caspers father or pay child support!” You claim confidently because in reality, you were beginning to doubt the plan you came up with at 3am and woke up early for. “Tsunotarou would be a better bet but I really don’t know where that guy is… or his real name.” you muttered to yourself. 
Either way, Lilia clapped and with a large smile said this: “You're in luck! Malleus just finished his breakfast and should be heading over for his morning coffee.” So, without verbally questioning why he knew that you smiled and plopped down on the common room’s chairs watching a bit nervously as Lilia wandered off again. 
So… You were really dumb. Realistically this was a horrible plan bound to fail, but you already came this far. 
Didn’t all your friends always comment about how scary Malleus was? Wasn’t he like one of the top mages of this world? 
Okay, maybe if you didn’t come up with this plan at 3am last night you wouldn’t be so royally screwed! Hah, get it because Malleus is supposed to be some royal of… a whole nation right? Yeah, this was a bad idea. 
Getting up to leave, you heard Casper cheer for his father.
“Child Of Man?” 
“Tsunotarou?” You turned around, “Actually- no this is better than getting smited by some scary mage! Okay so I have been looking for… you, for a while!” You smiled, “This is our son: casper.” You introduced them. 
“Papa!” 
__________________
“Mm, He does look like me.” Tsunotarou hummed; he knelt beside the child, titling his head curiously as he observed the child. “Your horns are coming in nicely aren't they?” He commented with a small smile, the boy nodded enthusiastically. 
“Mhm! They should be as big as yours soon!” Casper giggled. 
“Your speech is also advanced for a child of your age.” The older boy smiled, It was a very touching sight actually. 
“It is. Ace and Deuce have been helping me teach him some bigger stuff too.” you stated proudly as the younger boy nodded along. You sat beside where the boy stood in front of his new father. Your back against the armrest, you sat planted on the floor. “The headmage said he would be dealing with getting him back home but I have to take care of him till then.” You sighed. 
“I see, so you thought to find me as I am the child's father?” Malleus asked curiously, an eyebrow raised almost teasingly.
“If you’ll believe it, yup.” You nodded along, I mean if he believes that the kid is his, why not get him to take responsibility for that sweet child support money?
“I see, so Crowley is making the proper arrangement to get you back to us in the future.” 
“Wait, so he's actually my kid?” you couldn’t help but blurt out. Tsunotarou merely chuckles. “Am I dumb or are we actually like his parents?” You whispered a bit to Tsunotarou and stood up, he followed after you standing up as well. 
“Mm? Crowely didn’t inform you?” he said with an amused and sly smile. “I suppose it's time anyway we get properly introduced seeing as you are my future spouse” He smirked, his hand on his hips.
“I am Malleus draconia”
__________________________
Fun Fact:
The events of this takes place after Heartslabyul’s and Savanaclaw overblot. So y/n doesn’t know Tsunotarou is Malleus.
Also, Lilia knew all along.
Also, also, I'm sorry this sucked lol
NOTE: Sorry this slightly sucked I didn't really plan to actually finish the WIP I posted it as "Forever unfinished" and people liked it so I thought I'd do this anyway!
________________________ ________________________
Some of Ya'll wanted to be Tagged: @yu-night-raven @kelsyntam @reivelmin @thisisafish123 @cheshire-kitsune @dmiqueles @ranbutler-epicsans-moon @dontmindmelove @swivi @halseyhatter @barbatoss-bitch @itslucieen @bell7duck @whatever-fanfics @ziankenvirus @blcknebula @leilakaro @sarraisme
(I'm not quite sure if I did it right but thank you for liking the WIP enough to comment and want to see another! I hope it was good, I kind of think It wasn't that good but Thats why I made it somewhat long... To compensate!)
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just-jordie-things · 1 year ago
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kiss cam surprise - gojo satoru
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word count: 2.8k warnings: none! :) summary: when (y/n) kisses shoko during a kiss cam at a baseball game, satoru gets a little ~jealous~ this is half fluff half crack tbh lol a/n: ok i don't take fic requests but someone dropped this in my ask box awhile ago and it resurfaced in my mind so... ur a lucky duck. also! if u like kiss cam fics y'all should check out kiss cam! by @naosaki <3 one of my fav megumi fics <3 ___
For being at an event that they couldn’t care less about, Shoko and (y/n) had been on their best behavior for the entirety of the baseball game.  Satoru and Suguru had been so excited to gift the tickets to the girls so they could join them in a fun outing, that they’d tried their best to accept the offer graciously.
Even though neither of them had any interest in going.  It was obvious when the tickets were presented to them, from the awkward smiles they’d worn to the way their eyes shifted towards one another as if to make sure the other was thinking the same thing- why wouldn’t they just go on their own? 
Shoko and (y/n) would’ve happily spent the day doing their own thing had Satoru and Suguru gone to the game just the two of them.  Maybe some light shopping, or maybe they’d hole up in one of their rooms and eat junk and watch romcoms all day.  Either way… any activity would have been more entertaining to them than this.
They barely even knew the rules of the game, only cheering when the guys did, and sharing knowing looks when they tried not to laugh at just how uninterested they were.
Still, they did their best to participate.  Both glad in the same colors of the cheap merch Satoru and Suguru had treated them to.  (y/n) was in a jersey too big for her that hung off her body awkwardly, and Shoko wore a hat with a bill that wouldn’t stop dipping over her eyes, but they didn’t complain.  They were very good sports for their friends, only sneaking off for a smoke break one time.  They even made a few trips for snacks and drinks so that Suguru and Satoru wouldn’t miss any of the games.  Sure, maybe they were trying to stretch their legs and ease the ache in their butts from the uncomfortable plastic seats, but they had the right intentions!
“This is fun, right?” 
When (y/n) turned to him, Satoru was beaming from ear to ear.  His sunglasses were slipping down his nose due to the way his ball cap bumped into them, and his bright eyes seemed to hold even more light from his obvious joy.
She couldn’t lie to him if she wanted to.  It was too cute to see him this excited just from sharing the experience with his friends.  He’d had his arm draped over the back of her seat for the majority of the game, and whenever his team got the upper hand, he’d eagerly tap or shake at her shoulder to involve her in the hype.  (y/n) was grateful for the que to pay closer attention to what was happening, but she did fluster and blush every time he’d touch her.
This didn’t go unnoticed by Shoko, who would knowingly knock her elbow from her other side, a small smirk on her face when (y/n) would peek at her from the corner of her eye.  She tried to ignore the silent teasing, but after a while it got hard with how much it was happening.
With a smile and a nod of her head, Satoru’s expression lit up even more.  “Yeah, I’m actually having a really great time,” She said.  It didn’t matter that she was more interested in all the attention he’d been giving her than the great seats they had for the game.  He didn’t need to know that part.  “We should do this more often” She adds before thinking.
Once again, Shoko’s elbow was bumping into hers, and this time a less-than-discreet snort could be heard.  (y/n) sent her elbow back into hers in retaliation, silently scolding her for eavesdropping.
“Yeah?” Satoru fixes his cap so that he can push his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose.  “Tickets weren’t that expensive, we could go to more games this season, if you want?” He suggests.
Bullshit, she thinks with a smile telling him that’s exactly what she was thinking.  Nothing was expensive to the Gojo Satoru.
“Yeah, maybe” She says without much commitment.
Going to baseball games just the two of them? The idea had her heart soaring.  Having to sit through a game that could take more than three hours was less than ideal.
Soon enough a break in the game came, the announcers hyping up the crowd with some silly chants and trivia on the big screen.  (y/n) found herself slumping down into her seat, aimlessly tapping around on her phone to pass the time.  She hadn’t been paying enough attention to notice the change in game on the big screen, that is until there was a hand smacking at her shoulder again.
Looking up, she’d almost expected to see the game in motion again.  Satoru had only been tapping at her like that when an exciting play was in action.  However this time, he’s pointing up at the screen.
She gapes when she sees that she’s displayed on the screen.  The camera has a wide angle that includes Shoko and Satoru on either side of her, the words Kiss Cam spelled out in pink cursive above them.  It’s complete with lipstick stains and sparkles for dramatic touch.
“Oh my god” She mumbles, hoping that her blush is undetectable by the camera, seeing as her face felt scorching hot from embarrassment.
The longer the camera is focused on her, the rowdier the crowd around her becomes.  Eagerly chanting ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ like a bunch of teenagers at their first house party.
Satoru is grinning so hard his face hurts.  This was like a dream come true.  The easiest excuse in all of history to get a kiss from the girl he’s had a crush on since he was fifteen was just presented to him on a silver platter- and the crowd’s cheering only spurred him on further.
Even Suguru is giving him a smirk and a nod of approval.  He’d heard more earfuls than most about the ins and outs of Satoru’s feelings for (y/n).  Although on occasion, Shoko or Nanami were on the receiving end of his lovesick rambling.
His heart is about to burst out of his chest when he turns to (y/n).  His smile is starting to hurt and for a second he realizes he’s going to have to relax to actually kiss her.
“Are you okay with-?” 
The question barely comes out before he’s cut short.
(y/n) had already turned away from him, swiveled in her seat to face Shoko.  It’s like he’s watching it happen in slow motion.
They both giggle at their idea, and (y/n) takes off Shoko’s hat while she’s quickly tucking her hair behind her ears to clear her face.  And then time goes back to normal and all too quickly, Satoru watches as they lean towards each other to share a kiss.
It’s just a peck, so swift and chaste it’s over as soon as it happens.  The crowd hollers and then are just as quickly getting excited over the next unsuspecting pair on camera.
(y/n) and Shoko laugh a bit more before sitting back in their seats, going back to their phones and striking up conversation about some anime they’d been interested in.  Both, or at least (y/n), completely oblivious to the offended gape on Satoru’s face.
That was totally his kiss, after all! It was his perfect moment to finally take things to the next level with his long time friend that he’d harbored a crush on.
To make matters worse, Shoko wasn’t as innocent as she was pretending to be, sending a smirk his way when (y/n) was too focused on her phone.  He scowled back at her.  She knew about his crush! She knew he was going to go for that kiss!
With a huff, he stood up from his seat and made his way out of the stands.  He needed a bottle of water, or a snack, or just some damn space away from his so-called friend that was teasing him for snatching his kiss.
Satoru leaving so suddenly finally perked (y/n’s) attention.  He was gone too fast for her to call after him, but she worriedly watched him scale the steps with ease as he headed towards the hall of vendors.  She locked eyes with Satoru, raising a brow in silent question.
“He’s just being pouty,” Suguru replied casually, shrugging his shoulders before turning back towards the field.  “You wanna go after him? Be my guest” 
(y/n) sighed, turning the other direction towards Shoko.
“What’s he so pressed about?” She mutters.  “What even happened?” 
Shoko rolls her eyes, a lazy grin stretching on her lips.
“I dunno,” She says in a teasingly melodic tone of voice, suggesting she knew exactly what set their friend off.  “Maybe pluck up some courage and go ask him?” 
With another sigh of defeat, (y/n) slumped back into her seat, her thumbnail wedged between her teeth as she mulled over the idea.  A nervous flutter settled in her chest, a persistent buzz of confusion and anxiety distracting her even more so from the game starting up again.
When she suddenly shot out of her seat, muttering some excuse about needing to stretch her legs before she raced up the stairs in the direction she’d seen Satoru head off towards.
Two sets of eyes watched her as she hurried off.  Suguru and Shoko locked eyes once she was out of sight, both of them snickering between themselves.  It didn’t exactly take an active imagination to know exactly what was coming next. 
To her surprise, (y/n) found Satoru as soon as she left the stands.  Moping around the upper part of the arena with a half-empty bag of cotton candy.  She couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, effectively getting herself caught by him.
“Why’re you up here eating your feelings?” (y/n) speaks first, eyes narrowed inquisitively.  Satoru scoffs as she approaches him, snatching a piece of the pink sweet right out of his hands.
“I’m not eating my feelings” He replies unconvincingly, digging the hole deeper as he shoves a rather large piece of cotton candy into his mouth.
(y/n) rolls her eyes, but the smile on her face is impossible to hide.
“Sure,” She remarks.  “You’re totally not pouting right now.  C’mon just fess up.  What’s wrong?”
“I’m not pouting.  My friend betrayed me, I think I’m right in being upset about that?” It’s a rhetorical question, followed by another shove of cotton candy into his mouth.
(y/n) frowns.
“Betrayed you?” She repeats.  “Did I miss something? Who betrayed you?” 
Satoru groaned, tossing the remainder of his cotton candy into the trash dramatically.  (y/n) had to resist the urge to laugh, not understanding where this whole little tantrum came from.
“Shoko! Obviously! I mean she knew that that kiss was-!” 
He stops mid sentence, realizing where this outburst was going to lead him if he didn’t relax and go back to his usual suave demeanor.  (y/n) shook her head in confusion, her brows pinching together.
“Was what?” She asked, a breathless laugh escaping her.  “Meaningless? A joke between friends?” She suggested.  “You’re mad about a kiss?” 
“Of course I’m mad-! Well, I- I guess not mad, I’m not mad at her,” He stammered over his words, not knowing how exactly to explain the complicated feelings.
(y/n) tried to be patient while he stammered and struggled to make himself clear.  Mostly because she was partially amused by the whole thing.  Satoru prided himself in being what he called a smooth-talker, and while normally she’d laugh at him for that, it was a shock to see him behave the total opposite right in front of her.
“But that wasn’t exactly fair, I mean, she was just trying to rile me up.  And- like- yeah, that’s what we usually do, we pick on each other but that just- that just wasn’t fair! That was my kiss and she knew it! And she just-” 
“What do you mean ‘your kiss’?” 
Finally Satoru had been rendered speechless, his mouth still hanging open mid rant, jaw slacking a bit as he realized he’d gotten carried away.  (y/n’s) expression almost mirrors his, her eyes wide and lips parted, even as she holds her breath and waits for him to clarify.
But he’s completely frozen in front of her.
“Satoru,” She waves her hand in front of his face, trying to bring him back to reality.  “What did you mean ‘your kiss’?” She repeats, shaking her head at him.
“I- I just… I meant that-” 
Words are spilling out of his mouth without direction, without knowing what the hell the right thing to say was.  He’d known (y/n) for two years now, and in all of that time he’d been pretty proud of the persona he’d built up to be sure that he was always the cool one, the guy she could rely on to be smooth and popular.  He felt pathetic now, letting his own secrets slip and stuttering over himself like an idiot.
The corners of (y/n’s) lips twitched into a smile the longer he flustered over who-knows-what.  It catches his attention when she unintentionally lets out a little laugh.
“Sorry,” She apologizes right away.  “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you.  I just… are you trying to say that you wanted me to kiss you? For the cam game?” 
She tries not to sound so hopeful that it comes across desperate, but the mere idea that Satoru had wanted a kiss from her had her chest thrumming with butterflies.
Satoru’s throat feels dry, and suddenly her gaze feels like a spotlight.  The intensity has the hair on the back of his neck standing up.  He pulls the hat off his head to run a hand through his hair to relieve the heat.
“Well… yeah,” He admits, sounding more bashful than she ever would have thought he was capable of.  Her small smile turned a little brighter, and he tried to get his voice back.  “Not that I need a silly game to kiss you, obviously-” 
“Obviously” She repeats the word fondly, giving him a small nod.
“But- s-still, the kiss cam, would’ve been… fun” He admits sheepishly.  She giggles, nodding her head again.
“Well, it was fun, for the record,” She teases, earning a roll of his eyes from behind his shades.  She steps closer to him then, a tilt in her head as she takes in the obvious nerves written on his face.  “But if you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just asked” 
“I was going to,” He argued, his hands moving about erratically.  “It's not my fault Shoko beat me to it!” 
She giggled at his drama, reaching out and grabbing his hands as they flew around, still laughing as he froze up again from the sudden touch.
“You know, it didn’t exactly mean anything when Shoko did it,” She suggested.  “I know there’s not any cameras… but…” 
Satoru raised a brow.
“(y/l/n) (y/n),” He gasped dramatically, “Are you asking me to kiss you?” 
Her cheeks tint pink as she bites back her smile, giving him a small nod of her head.  He smiles back at her, pulling his hands out of hers and dropping his hat so he could lay them across her jaw, tilting her head upwards so he didn’t have to lean down as far to reach her.  
She doesn’t wait a second longer for him, closing her eyes and leaning up on the tips of her toes so she could press her lips against his.  Satoru’s quick to reciprocate, his fingers flexing against her skin, holding on as tight as he can without hurting her as he deepens the kiss right away.  She has to grab him by the shoulders to keep herself balanced.
His lips are soft, and taste sugary like the cotton candy he’d been eating.  She’d always thought he’d taste a little bit like sugar, what with how much of it he consumes.  It makes her smile to know first hand.
When they break the kiss, he steals one more quick peck from her, grinning with excitement before he pulls away so he can pick up his forgotten hat from the ground.
“Feel better now?” She teases as he slings his arm around her shoulder to head back towards their seats.
“Mhm,” He hums, pulling his cap over her head and smiling as it slips down her forehead.  He pokes it upwards with his index finger, then pokes the tip of her nose.  “But next game I bring you to, I get the kiss cam kiss, alright?” 
There’s a gleam in her eye and a blush on her face as she leans into him, matching his steps as they head down the stairs to their seats.  As shameless as ever, she can’t help but tease him.
“Then sit on my left next time” ___
xoxo ~ jordie
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rueclfer · 3 months ago
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shoujo touya save meeee pleaseee shoujo touya save me from the trenchessss
pull me through // touya todoroki
You awkwardly stood a few steps behind Touya as he felt around under the doormat for the spare key to his home. You two got along quite well for a couple of students who were on the opposite sides of the rankings, but never close enough to visit each other's home like this.
You were student council president, and Touya got suspended for setting the toilet on fire last year. That is how far you two were.
"Alright, come on in." He holds the door open for you to walk in before him.
At first glance, it seemed close to extravagant, but the closer you looked, it felt cozier by the second from the amount of framed photos, artwork, and trinkets displayed on every wall and counter.
In the living room, his younger siblings were all lined up like ducks as if they were awaiting for your arrival.
"Hi Fuyumi." You threw a wave at her.
"Hi Y/N!" She beams back.
You two worked on the student council together, so you were already close with her despite being a year older.
"Wait, this is Y/N?" The middle child with all white hair exclaims.
Fuyumi quickly swats her brother's arm, shushing him.
"Oooohh. Y/N, I know you!" The littlest one states, stepping up to you with an All Might figurine in hand.
"Oh do you?" You cock an eyebrow at Touya as he takes your jacket to put up by the door and your school bag off of your shoulder. You bent down to his level. "Your brother talks about me often?"
"No I don't." He quips before he could answer for himself, shooting a glare in their direction. "I don't know what either of them are talking about."
"Meet my ball and chains." He huffs with a hint of a smile in his voice. "Shouto, Natsuo, and you already know Fuyumi from your nerd thing."
"Can I play with them?" Shouto asks, moving over to Touya to tug on his pant leg.
"No you can't, turd. We have to work on a project so none of you bother us. Kay?" He motions you to follow him upstairs, slinging both of your bags over his shoulder.
You quickly follow behind him. "But maybe after!" You call out from midway up the stairs, giving them a final wave.
Upon entering his room, he sets your bag on his desk, letting you take the seat while he settles on his bed right next to you, whipping his laptop open.
Despite being somewhat of a delinquent, you knew that Touya was smart and had capabilities to be top of the class if he really cared to. You had no worries about this project, but the circumstance of being alone in his bedroom on the other hand, almost made you nervous,
"Your siblings seem to like me." You broke the tense silence as you two logged onto your presentation. "You definitely talk about me, huh?"
"It's probably Fuy. She's a big fan of yours." He glances over at you. "She talks about you way too much around here."
"You got a problem with that?"
"What, like I don't get enough of you at school?" He chuckles, biting on the end of his pen. "Don't I, Prez?"
"Lucky you, then. Not many people have that kind of access to me. I'm pretty high in demand, if you ask me." You tease back, meeting his eye for a moment before returning your attention back on your screen.
He pushes his laptop out and leans back in his bed, propping his upper half up on his elbow to face you with his pen still hanging out of his mouth.
"I wonder how those people feel about you spending all that time with such a loser like me? Not scared to tarnish that golden reputation of yours?"
"You give yourself too much credit." You laugh. "You've been such a good boy lately, I don't think anyone really bats an eye." You say sweetly, swiveling your chair to fully face him.
He chuckles to himself and diverts his eyes away from yours as a rush of blood floods to his cheek.
"Anyways..." He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as his ears slightly flush into red. "Back to this bullshit."
You two talk back and forth about the project for a while, slipping into silence every now and then as you work on your respective slides.
In your peripheral, you noticed that every so often, he would glance up at you from his screen like clockwork. It makes you a bit too self aware of yourself, forcing you to keep your posture straight, not to bounce your leg too much, and to keep your fidgeting at bay.
"You're grinding your teeth." He mutters, breaking the silence. "I can hear it, like sandpaper."
"It's just a focus thing." You reply, biting the inside of your cheeks to combat the habit.
"I can't stop looking at them in class.." You hear from outside of the door, paired with the boys' giggling. "...They're all I can think about, I feel so stupid."
You and Touya both stop shoot each other a confused glance, not quite sure what Natsuo and Shouto were going on about in the hallway.
"What are they doing?" You lean in and whisper.
"I don't fucking know?" He shrugs. "Maybe reading one of Fuy's books?"
"How cute." You chuckle, returning your attention to the project.
"Prez would never want a guy like me. I want to do better, but I'm fucking hopeless." The boys start, their footsteps running up and down the hallway this time.
"Natsuo! That's a bad word, you can't say that!" Shouto cries.
Your eyes widened and glanced over at Touya, whose face had now drained of color, jaw slightly gaped open.
He slams his laptop shut and frantically feels around under his pillow and covers, as if he had misplaced something.
"What're you looking for?" You asked, watching him rummage through his school bag after going through his bed.
"I'm going to fucking kill them." He mutters, throwing his bag on the floor. "I'm actually going to kill them."
He walks over to swing his bedroom door open, revealing the two boys leaning against the wall with a book in hand, flipping through the pages.
"Where the fuck did you two get that!?"
The two younger boys scream and scurry down the hall with Touya right on their tail. You follow them out into the hallway, watching them run a muck around the house.
Natsuo and Shouto eventually circle their way back to Touya's room, shoving themselves right behind you a second before Touya is able to get to them.
"Guys?" You look down at Shouto clutching your leg and Natsuo breathing hard, peering over your shoulder. "What did you two do?" You put a hand down on the top of Shouto's head, tapping it to get his attention up at you.
"Natsuo did it!" He cries, burying his face into your side. "I didn't do anything." He muffled into your shirt.
"You're the one who gave me his diary, you liar!" Natsuo reaches over and flicks Shouto's head. "Shouto did it!"
"What the hell is going on?" Fuyumi comes out of her room.
"These fuckers went through my things." Touya huffs, face now red. "Y/N. Move over please." He inches closer.
"No! Y/N please!" Natsuo cries behind you, clutching on you tighter.
"Whoooaa. Okay, okay let's relax everyone." You nervously chuckle.
"You, take a step back." You put a finger on Touya's chest, lightly pressing him to take a couple steps back into the hallways.
You noticed Touya clenching onto a journal so tight that his knuckles were white, jaw tense seething with anger.
"You two, go with your sister." You pried the two kids from your side, ushering them towards Fuyumi, in which she properly slapped the back of their heads the moment they got to her.
"Idiots. What did I tell you guys? Get in." She huffs before closing the door behind them.
"Don't think you're safe! Your ass is grass once Y/N leaves." He calls out before the door clicks shut.
"You, stop it. Come inside." You pull him in by the elbow.
"Jesus fucking christ." He groans into his hands, throwing the journal on his bed. "You didn't hear any of that, alright? None of that happened."
"Yup. You got it." You silently chuckle to yourself. "Absolutely nothing."
You watch him shove the journal deep into his school bag before throwing it back on the ground and flopping down in his bed, face buried in his pillow.
"FUCK!" He screams into his pillow, tightly gripping the sides of it.
"Okay let's just finish this shit and get it over with." He huffs, turning on his back and leaning up against the headboard, dragging his laptop back up to his lap.
"Oh so you really didn't wanna talk about it?"
"Talk about what?" He shoots you a threatening glance.
You ignored the hostile look, anyways. "You have a crush on me." You bite your bottom lip to hide a side. "That's what that was, right?"
"Who said all that shit was about you, huh?"
"You got another 'Prez' in your life?" You cock an eyebrow.
He went silent for a moment, running a hand through his hair and blowing out a breath of air.
"Let's not do this right now."
"That's fine." You turn your attention back to your laptop. "I'm just saying, though, you don't have to do 'better' for me to like you. I already do."
Another beat of silence passes.
"Cool. Cool." He squeaks out. "Um. Can you double check my slides for me?" He coughs.
You looked at him in your peripheral to see him covering the bottom half of his face with his hand, hiding the impending blush creeping up his face as he kept his eyes glued to his screen.
"Sure." You smiled. "Only if you double check mine."
-
bonus scene hehe:
over the next week of school, touya had been actively avoiding you- which you expected. it wasn't until one late school day where you had to stay behind for your council meeting when you caught him waiting by your cubby.
"touya." you greeted, holding out your bag for him to take while you started switching your shoes out. "what are you still doing here?"
"got a request to deliver to you, prez." he responds with a smirk, leaning up against the cubbies with your bag under his arm.
"oh yeah? well unfortunate for you, but i'm off the clock. you should file it in the student council box."
"it's a special request that can only be delivered in person." he rolls his eyes. "also i'm walking you home, so you don't really have a choice."
you laugh, starting your way out of school. "okay, then. go for it."
"go out with me this weekend."
your breath hitches from surprise. you had to admit to yourself that you had been waiting for some sort of confession or at the very least a chat about the last time you had seen him, but for him to almost demand a date with you caught you off guard.
"really?" you snap your attention to him, face heating up.
"really."
"i'd love to." you smile. "you feel like talking about it now? or do i gotta go through your diary for that?"
"shut up. it's a journal- two very different things." he nudges you with his elbow. "fuyumi yelled at me after you left and told me that i was an emotionally constipated prick, so i guess that inspired me to get my shit together."
"sooo.." you motion for him to continue.
"sooo...i like you. i have for a while." he starts "and i got my marks up for this quarter. for you. well, technically for me, but i wanted you to see that i was trying."
your heart swelled at this simple act. "you didn't have to do that. i told you i like you regardless- even after you set the toilet on fire."
"we don't talk about that version of me last year." he laughs "and i wanted to. you made me want to do it for me."
you two continue to walk home chirping in conversation and light teases. you had always been drawn to him despite his bad habits and annoying mannerisms, but you knew he always had it in him to do good things and make better choices for himself. knowing that he did it because of his inspiration to be a good person for you only made you like him more.
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backwardsbread · 9 months ago
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Hazbin Hotel Characters:
Forgetting an anniversary
A/N: This is my first time doing anything like this, so if anybody wants to see more, feel free to ask! The Hazbin brain rot is real—
Warnings‼️: Established relationship, character x reader, fluff, but also some angst?, swearing, gender neutral!reader, mentions of alcohol.
Not really proofread
I didn’t mean to write that much for Alastor but here we are—
Lucifer:
To be fair this guy is the literal KING of hell, (the devil from, THE BIBLE) so to say he’s a busy man is an understatement.
This dude is also MAD depressed making him constantly disassociate, so he’s prone for losing track of what day it is.
You kind of figure he’s forgotten the day is coming up when he’s not hyperfixated on it.
For birthdays, planned dates, special occasions, this man usually goes ALL out.
He tries to keep what he has planned secret, but he’s usually bouncing off the walls the days before, and ends up letting his plans slip.
So when he’s not talking your ear off the day before your anniversary, you suspect the date might’ve slipped his mind.
When the day of your anniversary comes along and you’re not woken up with kisses and cuddles, possibly breakfast in bed, you KNOW your partner has forgotten.
However, you don’t tell him or remind him of the date. Since your partner had a busy day ahead, you didn’t want to force him to focus on you when there much more important things to be settled.
You kind of wallow in your own self pity, while you wait for Lucifer to return to the castle.
Lucifer had plenty of things scheduled for the day, but he can’t shake the feeling that he IS forgetting something.
(And he is)
He checks his schedule, triple checks he didn’t miss any meetings, makes sure he has his lucky duck in his suit pocket.
All seems well. But he still can’t shake the feeling that he’s forgetting something.
It’s not until he gets home later in the evening and SEES you, that he remembers the date.
This man is ON HIS KNEES, profusely apologizing to you. The king of hell is practically begging for your forgiveness.
“Why didn’t you tell me?? You’re more important than some stupid meetings! I’m so sorry, I won’t let this happen again.”
Despite if you say it’s alright, he calls off anything he has scheduled for the next week. Treating you to the prettiest and fanciest places every inch of the pride ring has to offer.
This man usually goes all out for your guys’ dates and such, but this is extravagant. He’s treating you like the royalty you are to hopefully become. (If he ever gets the gall to ask you-)
Vox:
Similar to Lucifer, but even worse in the sense of his schedule is ALWAYS booked. It’s not easy being the face of all tech in the Pride Ring.
This man gets ZERO days off, working 8-12 hour days depending on what’s going on.
He’s got meetings, interviews, paperwork, you name it. This man might as well be the living embodiment of stress.
The thing he usually looks forward to is going home to you. Finally being able to relax and rant about his day.
(Finally able to stop his fake ass smile that’s usually imprinted on his face)
So when he gets home to find you already in bed, fast asleep when you usually would stay up and wait for him, he’s a little peeved.
He tries to be understanding, not really knowing what you might’ve done in the day. Perhaps it could’ve exhausted you. Or maybe you were feeling under the weather.
He then almost throws a full blown hissy fit when he sees blanket and pillow on the couch
A silent demand from you that he is to sleep there for the night.
His screen glitches in silent rage, as he grumbles to himself about how childish you were being for no apparent reason.
The two of you had obviously gotten into fights/arguments, mostly about his work schedule.
But it was rare that those arguments wouldn’t end in the two of you talking it out and ending the night in a cuddle session to make it up to each other.
(Vox refuses to really apologize for his work, his pride won’t let him apologize for something he doesn’t think he did wrong.)
Vox kind of accepts your demand, not wanting to piss you off more. You could talk about it with him tomorrow.
Vox wakes up early the day after your anniversary, going to work as usual. Velvette is getting him in ready in a new suit she designed. While she’s getting him ready she asks;
“So how was your night? Did you have anything planned?”
“Uhh.. what? Planned for what?”
“Wasn’t yesterday your anniversary?”
“….Fuuu-huh-huuuck”
He ditches his morning broadcast, instead heading towards his monitor room. When he sees you’re awake, and on your phone, he makes his face appear on the small screen.
Which scares the shit out of you— he usually gave some sort of warning when he was going to just appear on your device.
By the look on his face, you can tell he now knows the reason you made him sleep on the couch. You give him a look in return, waiting for his excuse.
And just by the look on your face, he can tell you’re not willing to hear any bullshit he has to spit about his work being a priority.
His screen glitches in a slight panic, as he’s sort of loss for words at first. He could tell you were angry, and he knew only he was responsible for causing that.
To your surprise, he actually apologizes, saying how there was no excuse for his absence and your guys’ special day.
He reassures you it won’t happen again, telling you how he still loves you. He has you pick any place of your choice for the two of you to go to dinner tonight.
(He hacks into the system to be put on the reservation list)
Anything to somewhat make it up to one of the only souls that truly understands him in this miserable afterlife.
Alastor:
He’s not as busy of a man as Vox or Lucifer, but he’s not very big on celebrations like birthdays or anniversaries.
You’re his and he is yours, you both don’t need to prove that to anyone.
But…..it would feel nice to at least acknowledge the stepping stones in your guys’ relationship.
Alastor doesn’t really understand the hints you drop when mentioning your guys’ anniversary.
He definitely knows the date is coming, but once the day arrives, he treats it like it’s just any other day.
He notices your mood is less cheery than any normal day, but doesn’t connect the dots that it’s because of HIS behavior.
(What could he have POSSIBLY done wrong??)
He instead tries to cheer you up by poking fun at you the entire day. Calling you little names like “grouch, stick in the mud, drag”.
Insisting that you wipe that frown off your face and replace it with a similar smile to his own permanent one.
He unknowingly rocks the boat with his behavior, only making your mood turn more sour.
Before he can even continue his banter for the last half of the day, you’re ignoring him. Not giving any excuse to him either, you’re just walking away from him.
He makes fun of your bitter mood? You didn’t hear it.
He asks you a question? Your conversation with Charlie is more important.
He tries to hold your hand or embrace you? You suddenly have something totally necessary to get done on the opposite side of the hotel.
You are determined to push all of his buttons just as he had unknowingly done to you.
And this absolutely gets under his skin.
Alastor is one for control, he needs to know everything, he needs to be in charge of situations. Why you were being so stubborn, this man is CLUELESS. And that irritates him to no end.
Tensions are high in the hotel, with a very grumpy radio demon and his other half who refuses to sooth his anger.
Night falls on Hell painfully slow, as you just want this whole day to disappear and never return. You sit at the bar, swirling around the liquid in your glass.
Husk knew better than to pry at you and your annoyance towards your significant other. He instead kept your glass filled, and offered you a soft smile.
You’re slightly buzzed when your source of annoyance sits in the bar stool right next to you. You feel Alastor’s gaze on you, but you keep your eyes on your drink.
You feel static prick at your skin, making the hair on your arms rise from the chill. You hear the crackle of a very peeved radio demon sitting beside you.
Who did you think you were?? Ignoring someone like him! You were his lover and you were treating him like he meant nothing to you.
(At least that’s what it felt like)
The overlord beside you finally snaps, his voice toned heavily with radio static, his eyes darkening with dial pupils.
“What is with this behavior, 𝙈̳̎𝙮̳̎ 𝙙̳̎𝙚̳̎𝙖̳̎𝙧̳̎? What could possibly be your excuse for such immature actions towards me?”
Maybe it’s because you’re slightly buzzed from one too many drinks, maybe your emotions had been building up way too quickly from your irritation, maybe you felt guilty for treating your S/O like spoiled leftovers all day.
But as you look towards Alastor, observing his anger, your eyes suddenly well up with big crocodile tears, threatening to spill if you even dare to blink.
Alastor notices your expression soften and watches some unwanted tears slip down your face. There’s literally a record scratch as he just watches you desperately try and hide your face from him.
His eyes soften back to their normal red hue and he feels his harsh smile crack at the edges.
(If he could frown, he absolutely would seeing as you were so hurt by his actions.)
He’s quick to comfort you, pulling you in and whispering comforting words. Shooting a glare at Husk to leave the two of you alone and to not speak a word of this to anybody.
The two of you talk out your feelings about the day. You admit how you felt a bit abandoned by his lack of acknowledgement for the date.
He promises to you that for your next anniversary, because he knows you will always be his, he will make sure to make you feel as special as you truly are to him.
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bruisedboys · 2 years ago
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sirius would always take the teasing shy!reader too far, till she’s slammed the door behind her and he’s on the other side like a little puppy
yeah 😭 he riles you up and then gets all pouty when you hide from him. I hate him (no I don’t)
shy!fem!reader 0.6k words
“Darling,” Sirius whines, fist banging on the door. “Open up.”
You don’t say anything. You’re annoyed at him. He’s been teasing you all afternoon and maybe it’s your fault for getting so flustered but he just wouldn’t stop. It was all too much and now you’ve locked yourself in his bedroom.
“Y/N, please,” Sirius begs, taking your silence in his stride. “I promise I’ll stop now, really.”
Somehow you don’t think that’s true. Somehow you think he’ll leave you be for the rest of the day and then go right back to his teasing self tomorrow.
“No,” you say quietly, not sure he can ever hear you through the door. “Leave me alone.”
Sirius groans dramatically and you think you hear his forehead thump on the door. You try not to smile at his dramatics. You fail and end up smiling anyway. You’re lucky he can’t see you, he’d poke fun for sure.
It’s not that you don’t like the teasing. It’s that you do like it. A bit too much. It makes your skin all tingly and your heart go berserk and you can’t stand him, you swear. You’d let him do it more if you thought you could handle it. You want him to do it more but you can’t handle it.
“Honeybee,” comes Sirius voice again, much quieter this time. Softer. “I’m really sorry.”
He’s buttering you up, you know, and it’s working. The pet names, the soft tone he only ever uses with you. The apology that really, he shouldn’t have to give. It makes you want to wrench the door open and kiss him on his pretty mouth.
Instead you turn the lock and open the door very slowly. Sirius straightens where he’d been moping with his forehead on the door. You open it just wide enough so he can see you.
“Sweetheart,” he says, looking one part sorry and two parts relieved. You’d think he’d kicked your dog, the way he’s looking at you. “I’m sorry.”
You shake your head. “It’s okay,” you say softly. “I, um. I’m sorry. I just got …” Flustered. Shy. Sick with love.
Sirius nods vigorously. You know he can hear the words you’re not saying. “I know. And I’m sorry.”
You smile despite yourself. “Stop saying sorry. S’not your fault.”
“No, but it is,” Sirius says, insistent. “I know I take it too far sometimes. It’s mean.”
He’s undoing you with his gentle apology. So, really, it’s his fault when you blurt, “Who says I don’t like mean?”
Sirius’ eyes go wide as saucers. “What?”
Now you’ve really put your foot in it. You duck your head and stare at the floor so you don’t have to look at him. Wishing it would swallow you up. “Um,” you say.
Sirius laughs, loud and startling. “Darling,” he says through his ridiculously delighted fit of laughter, his tone near chiding.
You grumble at the floor, refusing to look at him because you know he’ll make you smile as soon as you do. You don’t want to smile. You’re embarrassed.
It takes him a while to stop laughing. It fills your ears and creeps into your chest and vibrates around your heart. You enjoy it more than you should. Especially since he’s totally laughing at you. When he’s finally done he steps into your space and hooks a finger under your chin.
“Look at me, will you?” He asks softly, smile evident in his voice. It’s more of a plea than a question. You really can’t not do what he’s asking.
You look up. Sirius beams.
“There’s my lovely girl,” he says, dripping in a fondness that almost has you shutting the door in his face again. “My lovely shy girl.”
You want to duck your head again but he’s got his fingers around your jaw, stopping you from moving.
“Can I have a hug?” He asks softly, all puppy eyes and pouting lips, and you hate him, you swear.
You let him have one anyway.
-
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lavenderovercast · 1 month ago
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HUNKING HERO collab with @honeyandberryjuice
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summary: you & toshinori get freaky in your office! relationships: yagi toshinori x female!reader warnings: 18+ content under the cut, !! MINORS DNI !! note: me & @honeyandberryjuice decided to work on our own custom kinktober list for this year, so here's a written collab between the two of us! enjoy it you filthy animals <33 tags: blow jobs, (light) praise kink, size kink, office sex, semi-public sex, dick transformation (just gets bigger cuz. u know. all might ), all might AND small might, two for the price of one!, porn w/ out plot, implied aftercare 🌺 prefer to read on ao3? check out the series! 🌺
“Oh my goodness,” Toshinori panted, his large hands gripping into the leather seat beneath him. The blonde man’s neck was perspired with sweat, his breath and skin hot. The groan that came from his throat was visceral, almost like he was in pain, though he couldn’t be further from it. “You’re… taking all of me so well.” The man managed to gasp out, muscles visibly straining in his arms. The sight drives you absolutely crazy.
 All you can reply with is a deep and satisfied hum, what with your mouth being otherwise busy. Toshinori’s cock was enveloped deeply in your throat, the warmth of it fulfilling your need for the man. The hum you’d given in response seems to send ripples through him, as you feel him jerk in your mouth. You can’t help but feel smug about it.
 You have one hand gripped around his sinewy thigh, and the other one reaches towards his groin to cup his balls. As you begin to massage them gently, a strangled cry erupts from Toshinori and a clammy hand slaps down onto where yours was on his thigh and squeezes. His words are a garbled mess, but you manage to make out, “Jeez, I’m gonna cum. Let’s…” The man pauses to take another gulp of air before continuing, “I wanna try something.”
 Curiousity positively piqued, you remove him from your mouth. Your jaw had begun to ache from taking the size of him anyway, and you’d never been able to say no to him. You quietly hum again as you move, slowly pushing yourself up and off of your knees, resting your hands on the top of the blonde’s thighs. Toshinori’s breath hitched at the contact, and the man finds it increasingly difficult to regain his composure. 
 His dilemma only worsens when you lean your head closer to his, a sweet smile on the same lips that were just wrapped around his aching dick. The man could just about faint when your lips brush against his cheek, warm and soft as they press onto his skin before you speak to him so warmly. “What do you have in mind, Toshi?” 
 Toshinori fights a groan, hands shifting back to the leather seat underneath him. With a squeeze, he furrowed his eyebrows before letting his palms rest on your hips. A surprised noise escapes his you as he lifts you with ease, gently maneuvering you so your sitting on the desk in front of the two of you now. Your hands move to rest on the tops of his own, causing Toshinori to dig his teeth into his lip as he peers up at you. 
 In his eyes, you’re beautiful— a true marvel of the world. Your hair falls around your face and shoulders in a perfect curve, and there’s the sweetest, most trusting smile on your face as you gaze down at him so lovingly. The blonde doesn’t understand how he got so lucky, but he’s grateful for it anyways as he moves to slot himself between your legs. 
 “What do… You think about trying something different?” Toshinori rumbles, ducking his head down to leave loving kisses across your susceptible skin. His teeth grazes your neck, making you sigh and lean into the man with an approving hum. 
 “Depends on your definition of different.” You tease, rubbing your thumbs soothingly against his skin. You’re already fucking the man in an office, so you’re certain that nothing he can propose will be too bold for you to try. 
 The kisses he had been peppering on your complexion began to travel down your body, and you let out a small giggle as his lips tickled your sensitive skin. Your hands instinctively reached up to grab at his dishevelled blonde hair, pulling gently, which caused a low groan to escape the man. You bite her lip at the sound, positively enthralled that you could cause such deliciousness to come from him without even doing much. It seemed to take everything in him to find the focus to reply, “It’ll be better if I just show you. Let me know if, at any point, you don’t like it, ‘kay?”
 The small nod from you was all he needed as he sits back down into the office chair while pulling you down with him. Your soft, warm, naked skin on his caused tingles to travel up his spine, his hands reaching around you to support your back as you settled comfortably on his lap. With ease, he lifts your body up to line himself up with you and slowly enter you, a rumbling groan and a breathy gasp escaping each of you respectfully. 
 He takes a moment to let you adjust, and you dig your nails into his shoulders, making him grit his teeth. Toshinori would describe himself as a gentle lover, but the things you did to him made him want to break furniture and throw you around like a ragdoll, but he was a gentleman and would control himself— Even if every passing second with you only made that challenge all the more difficult. “You okay?” He asked, voice soft.
 “Always,” You respond, though your voice sounds strained. You look at him through your eyelashes, already knowing where his thoughts were venturing. “Please don’t stop. I just forget how much of you there is every time.” There’s amusement in your tone, and your face is wonderfully flush with arousal.
 If Toshinori was a different man, he would’ve been completely self-satisfied about the reactions he got out of you. It was hard not to be, when you have your fingers dug into his shoulders as he slowly rocks his hips forward. A pleased sound leaves you as you tild your head forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder with a shaky exhale. Desperately, you want to be close to him. Desperately, you want more of him, all of him. 
 Instead of taking further pride in himself for having such an independent woman damn near weak in the knees for him, Toshinori rests his lips gently against the top of your head. The smell of your shampoo invades his senses as he pushes forward. He’s slow and careful for you, attentive as always as he allows you to adjust to his length. 
 Another pleased sound erupts from you, this time in the form of a breathy sigh as his hips become flush against your own. A soft pant leaves you, and you left your head up to capture Toshinori’s lips in a kiss. His fingers press gently against your hips as he begins to move against you. The pleased, muffled sounds that leave his lover as he moves make him groan quietly, his own need increasingly growing. 
 The hands on your hips grips you harder, and he lifted you again to slide you up the length of him before pulling you roughly back down to take him fully. A surprised moan burst from you, telling him that you enjoyed the act very much, so he did it again. And again. Over and over, he lifted you up and down, before hitching his hands under your thighs to keep you in place and pounding up into you until your eyes began to roll back in your head. 
 You were lucky nobody was in the building anymore, or it would’ve been very obvious what you were doing, closed blinds or not. 
 A strained groan came from him as he felt the familiar sensation of release building up in him, and he knew now would be the time to enact what he slyly hinted at earlier. As your cries turned ecstatic, and your pulling of his hair felt like you were going to rip it from his scalp in a heavenly wave of pain and pleasure, he allowed another well-known electricity to assemble within him. The remnants of One For All pumped through his veins, filling his muscles and bulking his frame like it had again and again over the years.
 He didn’t think he would ever get sick of the feeling, and it didn’t matter that it only lasted for a few seconds now. Toshinori always felt so powerful when the quirk gave him new form.
 As his body doubled, tripled in size, your already smaller frame seemed to shrink on top of him. His large arms and legs seemed impossibly big next to you, and it was with your very sudden, sharp intake of breath that he knew you felt him bulk elsewhere too. “Oh my G— Fuck!”  Your voice squeaked as his cock stretched you out, and you felt more of him than you ever had before.
 He’s about to ask you if you’re okay again, to know if this was way too much or painful at all, but he’s silenced by you clamping your hand harshly over his mouth as you begin to bounce on top of him. Your moans are so tinged with desperation now that he can’t concentrate on anything else, and his even larger hands cup you tightly on the ass as he watches you taking every wide inch of him.
 “Toshi— Fuck, All Might!” His hero name being called from your pretty mouth undoes him. He didn’t think he was vain enough that something like that would turn him on so much, but the surprise doesn’t affect much as he realises his climax is imminent.
 He throws his head back and moans loudly as he empties himself inside of you, the cum overfilling you and dripping down the inside of your legs onto the top of his thighs. The man pants as he takes a moment to recover, his hands falling limp against you, who in turn practically drops onto him. Toshinori can feel your chest pressed against his own, your head buried into the crook of his neck. 
 The blonde can feel his body returning to his regular form, but he doesn’t pay it much mind as he lifts a shaky hand that he runs through your hair soothingly. He’s quiet for a moment before tilting his head back to you, lips pressing against the top of your head like they had earlier before. He can hear a breathy chuckle come from your mouth, and you peer up at him with affection written all over your features. 
 “Are… You alright? Was that…” He’s not able to finish his sentence as you lift a hand and gently nudge his shoulder, your eyes narrowed playfully on his face. He can feel his features warm as you hum. 
 “That was perfect, Toshi,” You murmur, nuzzling your head into the man’s chest with a contented little smile on your face. Toshinori can’t help but smile too, moving his hands to rest them on your arms, rubbing soothing patterns into the exposed skin. “...Should clean up, though. My office is going to smell terrible.” 
 “Mmm,” The blonde grunts in agreement, nodding a little. “Just let me hold you a little longer.”
221 notes · View notes
ham1lton · 7 months ago
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my favourite interviewer.
pairings: lando norris x fellow driver’s sister/reader
warnings: jokes about adoption. mentions of bigotry but in reference to o/s’s experiences.
summary: the one where you interview your sister and your boyfriend. also part of the nepo!sister universe.
author’s note: i love nepo!sis/y/n. expect to see her more. also these interviews are quite short so imagine they’re longer and these are snippets. y/n is a better interviewer than i made her out to be 😔💔
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liked by vogue, yourusername and 1,827,668 others.
oldersister: check out my photoshoot for vogue! and my following interview with my younger sister yourusername. it was definitely… interesting. link in bio <3.
view all comments
user1: my favourite sisters made another appearance again!!
yourusername: DON’T! work with o/s! such a DIVA! rude as hell…..
-> oldersister: is this because i said pink wasn’t your colour?
-> yourusername: ALL COLOURS ARE MY COLOUR !! 😡
user2: y/n is so funny throughout this entire interview. a natural comedian.
user5: o/s saying that people don’t take her seriously as a driver is crazy!! she’s a two time champion!! what more does she need to do?
-> user6: it’s nothing that she needs to do. there really isn’t anything she can do to change their minds. it’s bigotry.
user3: o/s is so pretty. full time f1 driver and part-time model.
-> user4: one thing about her, lewis and zhou is that they’re all gonna serve looks and face. holy trinity.
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liked by yourusername, gq and 1,223,378 others.
landonorris: thank u gq for letting me cover ur magazine and thank u to my gorgeous interviewer for taking the time out of her day to interview me. btw… are you single 😍
view all comments
user5: this was so cute!! i love their dynamic.
yourusername: no i’m not single. i have a bf. be professional please.
-> landonorris: ain’t nobody care about him queen. i bet you i could beat his ass 😍
-> user1: i wish i had this confidence.
-> landonorris: leave me alone 😭😭🖕🏼
-> user2: poor lando. getting dragged by his fans, his girlfriend, his girlfriend’s fans and his girlfriend’s sister’s fans😭😭 rip bro 💔😔
-> yourusername: he’s fine y’all. please don’t call paw patrol.
user3: lando saying y/n was his favourite person regardless of what she does 🥺🥺
-> user4: when he cussed out y/n for calling herself boring 😭 he said that’s my gf don’t be disrespectful.
user7: y/n finessing a free lunch and dinner out of her boyfriend and her sister was my favourite part. yass queen 😍 take from the rich.
*liked by yourusername*
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MY NIGHT WITH O/S L/N.
by y/n l/n.
It’s the end of O/S’s Vogue’s shoot. She’s dressed in a black form-fitting silk suit with a pair of pale pink heels. I always knew that my sister was famous but seeing her in the middle of such magnitude truly reinforces that she is not just my older sister anymore. She’s bigger than that. We decide to duck behind the busy shoot into a side room to start our interview.
THURSDAY, PARIS, 11:34PM.
Y/N: Did you expect that I’d be the one interviewing you?
O/S L/N: Honestly? No! I’m happy though to see a familiar face. Pleasant surprise.
Y/N: I’m not gonna hold back on the questions though just because you’re my sister. I need you to know that.
O/S: Wouldn’t expect you to.
Y/N: Just for the record, she’s wearing my lipstick. I told her she’d look cute in it and she refused to listen to me.
O/S: I didn’t expect it to look so cute on me. I don’t wear super bright lipsticks, it’s a orangey-red shade for the people who can’t see it. I got the makeup team to source it for me and tried it on and perhaps… you were right. It’s grown on me.
Y/N: I’m always right.
O/S: Always is an understatement but … you have your moments.
Y/N: So, what would you say it’s like being the only female F1 driver?
O/S: A very unique position to be in. I’m lucky to have such a good support system in place. Y’know? Mom, Dad, my team and you.
Y/N: It’s a lot of pressure isn’t it?
O/S: Yes. As any high profile job is.
Y/N: How do you find the pressure when it comes to being a role model for younger girls?
O/S: It’s a responsibility I take very seriously. I think it’s so important to encourage young children, especially girls, to follow their dreams and help to provide avenues to make them accessible. I would love to see younger generations of drivers that come from a diverse array of backgrounds be in Formula One.
Y/N: Remember when you were younger and you’d go go-karting?
O/S: Yes.
Y/N: Dad would always make me come and watch you. It was so boring but he’d always get us ice cream afterwards if you’d won. That’s why I always rooted for you.
O/S: Says it all really.
Y/N: I was always a tennis fan. Maybe a little basketball or football. Dad used to joke that maybe you were the adopted one because no one else in the family knew about motorsports before you.
O/S: He still does! I found out about F1 at my school library at the age of like nine and begged Dad to take me. I’m very lucky that not only did we have the funds at the time but parents that supported us. He used to drive me everywhere. He still does drive me to the Grand Prix sometimes.
Y/N: Funny how little traditions stick with us, huh? Remember when you started making real money and would take us out for dinner after every win?
O/S: I was so excited that I had the money to treat you all.
Y/N: Definitely. What was the biggest challenge you’ve faced so far in your career?
O/S: It’ll sound trivial but… probably being taken seriously.
Y/N: What do you mean by that?
O/S: As a lot of women in male-dominated spaces might face, it’s hard to overcome the biases against my abilities. People said for a long time that I was only here because of diversity quotas.
Y/N: Even when you won?
O/S: Especially when I won. I like to prove people wrong. I’ve spent my whole career doing just that. I just wish it wasn’t so constant and tiring. I’m just doing my job but because of my womanhood and my blackness, it is immediately viewed as political. Overcoming the preconceptions has become a huge part of my journey.
Y/N: That’s annoying as fuck. I’ve seen it first hand too. You’re an incredible driver. I know I joke around with you and take the piss out of you but genuinely you do inspire me. I might not be racing cars anytime soon but I’ll always be your biggest fan.
O/S: Thanks Y/N. That means so much to me.
Y/N: Now onto the juicier stories. Who are you dating? For the readers who mightn’t know your personal life, I’ll spell it oit for them.
O/S: Oh No…
Y/N: You started off by dating your childhood sweetheart, Clark Jones, and then dated actor Paul Elordi.
O/S: I did. I am single now, as you’re aware.
Y/N: And she won’t let me set her up with anyone!
O/S: Just because you’re happy in monogamous bliss doesn’t mean the rest of us wanna be.
Y/N: Thanks for letting me interview you today O/S, it was definitely the best part of my day.
O/S: You were very good. I enjoyed the questions. Five stars.
Y/N: Wanna go out to eat? Your treat.
O/S: Of course, let me change into something more comfortable. These heels are gorgeous but they are killing me.
END OF INTERVIEW.
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MY MORNING WITH LANDO NORRIS.
by y/n l/n.
TUESDAY, LONDON, 10:34AM.
I was told to pretend to be professional and that I didn’t spend the night with my boyfriend so I left the room at around 7am just so that I could knock on the door again later in my interviewer mode. It’s the night after his photoshoot for an energy drink. Lando opens the door in a plain black tee, a hoodie wrapped around his waist and tracksuit bottoms. He isn’t wearing shoes. He lets me in and I sit on the sofa. We start the interview.
Y/N: Good Morning. Should we start the interview?
LANDO NORRIS: I’m ready whenever you are.
Y/N: I told O/S this but just because we know each other, don’t expect me to hold back on the questions. Don’t expect any special treatment just because I am your girlfriend.
LANDO: Wouldn’t dream of it.
Y/N: Alright, let’s get started. How did you feel about yesterday’s photoshoot?
LANDO: Tried something new and I think it turned out well. Got some cool shots. The energy was great and the team was incredible. It was a fun shoot. Couldn’t complain.
Y/N: Do you think you’re a better racer or model?
LANDO: I’d like to say model but I’d have to say racer.
Y/N: I think you could be a model.
LANDO: Even though you’re biased. I’ll accept that.
Y/N: Not biased at all actually. I’m here as Interviewer Y/N, not as your girlfriend Y/N.
LANDO: Wait. Can I flirt with Interviewer Y/N?
Y/N: No.
LANDO: Boooo!
Y/N: Let’s switch gears, what do you like to do when you’re unwinding?
LANDO: Well, Usually I’d say spending time with you but you’re not my girlfriend soo… I’m going to say streaming with my friends and playing video games. Also watching my girlfriend’s favourite reality shows.
Y/N: You’re a Teen Mom UK fan? And a Real Housewives fan? I thought you didn’t to like them.
LANDO: It’s part of the boyfriend playbook. Pretend you’re bored with those sorts of shows but secretly, you’re incredibly into it. I have to keep up with your interests somehow and I picked the most interesting ones.
Y/N: I don’t blame you. Alright, one more question before I go back to being boring girlfriend Y/N and I have to give back this super cool voice recorder.
LANDO: Girlfriend Y/N isn’t boring to me. She’s actually my favourite person. Don’t talk shit about my girl.
Y/N: Fine. She’s not boring. She’s just less of a technophile.
LANDO: I’ll accept that.
Y/N: My last question is what’s your favourite thing about driving for Formula One?
LANDO: Besides the thrill of racing? And the part where I’m living my childhood dream? Definitely the fans. Their support and energy help fuel me on the track. Plus, I get to travel the world while doing what I love. I think that’s the ideal world for a lot of people. I’m very lucky.
Y/N: I couldn’t agree more. Thank you for letting me ask you those questions. Now, time for me to go back to the girlfriend version of me.
LANDO: Don’t sell yourself short. You’re always my favourite person regardless of what version you are.
Y/N: Flattery will get you everywhere, won’t it?
LANDO: Hey! It’s not flattery if it’s the truth.
Y/N: Guess you’re not just a pretty face huh. Don’t worry, I’ll keep our reality television show marathons a secret between me, you and all the millions of GQ magazine readers.
LANDO: You’re an angel. Lunch?
Y/N: Only if you’re paying.
LANDO: Always.
END OF INTERVIEW.
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987 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 6 months ago
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Aim for the Sky Part 4 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley can't help himself. When he sees cute things for his baby, he buys them. When he craves you as much as you crave him, he makes a complete mess in the garage. Pregnancy bliss is taking his domestic bliss to a new level as he tries to plan the perfect first anniversary outing.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, cum play, swearing, pregnancy
Length: 4100 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
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"What are all these boxes from?"
Your husband clearly didn't hear you come in from work by the look of things. He was still in his flight suit, desperately emptying cardboard box after cardboard box onto the dining room table. When he turned toward you, his eyes were wide like you'd just caught him doing something he shouldn't be. "I have no idea," he said, quickly picking up a smaller one and rushing your way. "This one has your name on it."
You were still trying to look past him into the dining room while he actively blocked you. "Are you joking right now? Oh my god, you went on a shopping spree!"
His cheeks were tinted pink, and he looked like he was going to burst at the seams as he blurted out, "It's for the Nugget!"
"When did you even have time to buy it?" you asked in exasperation. "You just got home on Friday!"
He was raking his fingers through his hair. "There was a special on two-day shipping, and as soon as we found out it's a girl, I started adding things to my shopping cart."
His gaze was sweet and earnest, but you chucked the box you were holding and ducked around him before he could stop you. Then you gasped. There was baby clothing, a folded up pack 'n play, bibs, bottles, and a baby carrier all spread out on the table.
"Do I need to take your credit card away?" you asked him, but even you weren't immune to the little pink onesie that said Daddy's Co-pilot.
"I can behave," he promised. "I'm just excited."
You groaned and looked at his face as he picked up the baby carrier. It was impossible to be annoyed with him right now, and at least it was a bunch of things you were going to need. You nodded toward the hallway and asked, "Do you want to start getting the nursery ready in a few weeks?"
Suddenly you were pinned up against the side of the piano with the carrier pressed between your body and his while he kissed you senseless. "Yes," he whispered against your lips. "Please. Pastel airplanes and clouds." He had mentioned it so many times, you already knew he was still thinking about it. 
"Anything you want."
He kissed you one last time and said, "I want my little girl to have the cutest nursery ever, and I want my wife to still agree to cook me dinner after she sees the credit card bill."
Your stomach started growling at the mention of food. "I'm starving," you admitted. "Clean everything up, and I'll work on dinner."
He sprang into action while you unbuttoned your uniform shirt which was way too snug now. You even unbuttoned your pants. You started heating up the chicken casserole that you made and froze while Bradley was deployed before cutting open the box that arrived with your name on it. You already knew what was in it, but you still cringed when you saw it.
The United States Navy maternity uniform was one of the ugliest articles of clothing you'd ever seen in your entire life. You looked out the window at the partially built playset in the backyard and whispered, "You're lucky I love you, little Nugget. Because now I have to wear a weird tent to work for the next four months."
It was too ugly to think about right now. Your stomach was growling relentlessly, so you cut up some carrot sticks and poured out a little bit of the hot sauce you brought back with you from dinner in Del Mar last night. "Mmm, that's so fucking good," you groaned, biting into a carrot stick you dipped into the sauce. You cut up another carrot into sticks and tried to get them as saturated as you could before eating them.
The baby was moving around a lot now as you ate your snack. "Jesus," Bradley grunted, and you turned to see that he had changed into some gym clothes.
"Want some?" you asked, as you dipped more into the hot sauce. A drop landed on your chest above your bra before it made it to your mouth, and Bradley was there to lick it up in an instant.
"Is this some sort of pregnancy craving?" he asked, and you smiled as you fed him the carrot stick. "And are you going to eat in your bra all the time now?"
"Why? Do you like it or something?"
He gave you a stern look and ran his thumb over your lace covered nipple. "Come on, Sweetheart. Your tits make me hard on a regular day, but right now they are doing a little something extra, and you know it."
"My favorite bra barely fits right now," you informed him as you reached for another carrot. "And my maternity uniform arrived." But you could tell he was hardly listening now as he kissed along your bra strap while the kitchen timer told you dinner was ready. "I could model it for you after we eat."
"Absolutely," he whispered as Tramp trotted in, ready to be fed too. They both gave you puppy eyes until they had their food in front of them. Bradley pulled you down onto his lap and offered to share his plate of dinner with you, but you mostly ate the carrot sticks. You were almost tempted to drink some of the hot sauce, so yes, this probably was a pregnancy craving. What you really wanted was to dip some marshmallows into it...
"Baby Girl, I'm going to go work out in the garage," Bradley said, pulling you from your food fantasy. He rubbed his hand along your bare belly and up to your breasts. "Meet me out there if you want. I'll clean the kitchen later."
You watched him slip out the sliding glass door and head for the garage. In fifteen minutes, he would be all sweaty. His skin would be slick to the touch. He would taste incredible. Yeah, you were obviously going to go meet him out there. In the meantime, you should probably try on your maternity uniform. 
You wrinkled your nose as you carried it to your bedroom. The pants were nice and stretchy, and they felt comfortable. The shirt had ample room for your belly, and it would definitely accommodate you in your third trimester as well. "Let's have a look," you said to your daughter, but when you glanced in the mirror, you gasped. "Fuck!"
Oh, it was so much worse than you imagined it would be. You laughed to keep from crying as you tried to come to terms with this khaki monstrosity. Your butt looked weird, and there was just so much fabric. You tried to tuck the shirt in, but somehow that was worse. 
After you slipped some shoes on, you made the trek out to the garage and stood in the open doorway, admiring your husband for a few minutes while he listened to his gym playlist and did some bicep curls. Then he dropped down to the mat and did fifty push ups while you tried not to moan. You almost forgot why you were there, but then he got to his feet, wiped his forehead with a towel, and jumped a bit when he finally saw you.
"What the fuck are you wearing?"
"Bradley!" you whined. "Is it really that bad?" You knew the question was almost laughable. The answer was clearly yes. But your husband scrambled over to you with an apologetic look on his face anyway.
"You're still beautiful," he insisted, taking both of your hands in his. "I just wasn't expecting you to be wearing this... uniform."
You let him kiss you, but you rolled your eyes and said, "I'm going to have to hide in my office at work until March."
"Okay," he finally said, "it's hideous, to be sure. But I see plenty of officers wearing them on base. And if anything, you make it look a lot better than it really has any right to." Your laughter must have encouraged him, because he wrapped you up in a delightfully sweaty hug and led you to his weight bench. "Wanna watch me do lunges? I'm practicing for the Nugget."
"You're practicing?" you asked as you settled down on the narrow bench. 
He was already strapping the baby carrier around his torso and clicking it into place. Then he picked up one of his ten pound bench press weights and slipped it into place where a baby should go. You wanted to laugh at how ridiculous he was, but when he looked at you and lunged down into a squat, you moaned and had to press your thighs together instead.
"Yeah," he grunted. "I'm practicing for when I get to wear my little Nugget around. Actually, do you think we should be calling her Nuggette?"
Once again, his words were comical, but the way he was doing reps of lunges like he was cradling a tiny baby's head with his hand instead of a metal weight left you whimpering.
"Nuggette sounds cute, too," you told him, rubbing your belly through your hideous maternity shirt. She was squirming a bit as you said, "I don't think she's picky about what you call her, Roo. She's just very excited whenever you're around."
He lunged down one more time before getting on his knees on the mat in front of you, removing the weight from the carrier and setting it on the floor. "Is that true?" he asked as he scooted a little closer. He smelled like clean sweat, and his body was radiating heat as he started to kiss your belly through your shirt. "You love Daddy?" he asked, running his nose gently against your bump.
His fingers found the hem of your shirt and eased it up so he had full access, kissing the spot next to your belly button. You brushed his damp hair back from his forehead and moaned, "We both love Daddy."
"Hey," he whispered as he started to unbutton your shirt. "I really want to fuck you, but this thing is a mood killer."
"Bradley!"
"I'm so serious," he told you, shaking his head. "We need to get this tent off of you immediately."
"You're so rude," you said with a laugh as he finally pushed the fabric down your arms and tossed it to the floor.
"That's what I'm talking about," he grunted, unhooking your bra and tossing that aside as well. Then he was still on his knees with his mouth on your breasts, and suddenly you could barely remember your own name.
-----------------------------
Something about pregnancy cast a magic spell on your tits, and if left uninterrupted, Bradley could have happily sucked on them all night long. They were bigger, sure, but they were somehow a little firmer, too. And he couldn't understand it, but they were warmer and smelled so sweet. And your fucking nipples looked a bit bigger and were always furled into pretty little peaks that made his dick so hard, he could barely keep from touching himself.
He was moaning for you, on his knees in the garage while he licked and sucked to his heart's content. His left hand was stroking the underside of your breast while his right was stroking his cock in time with the way you were whining, "Brad-ley. Brad-ley." Your fingers were in his hair, and he was in absolutely no hurry to fuck you, but he was slightly afraid he was going to cum within the next few minutes.
So he carefully pushed you down onto your back on the bench and pulled those ugly as sin maternity pants off of your gorgeous body, yanked your underwear to the side, and ran his cock through your soaking wet pussy. 
"Fuck, Sweetheart." As soon as he pushed himself inside you with a little snap of his hips, your tits bounced for him. Mesmerized, he did it again. 
"Roo," you whined, trying to find something to hold onto as he fucked you a little harder with his hands cupping your bump.
"Yeah," he crooned, ramming himself deep, thankful he'd already removed the bar and the weights. "You better hang on tight."
He fucked you until you were a screaming mess, gripping the bench above your head for support. He'd never let anything happen to you or the baby, but it was delicious watching you scramble like this as he rocked the bench. The grip of your pussy as you arched your back and pressed your bump into his palms had him clenching his jaw, holding back as long as he could.
"Oh, fuck!" he shouted, pulling out of you while you were mid orgasm and shooting his load all over your belly and chest. "Jesus Christ," he panted, standing while straddling you on the bench, jerking himself off all over those tits.
You looked like you were in a daze as you reached one hand up, grasped his sensitive cock, and dragged it through the mess. Then you leaned up and kept eye contact with him while you licked his cock clean. He was literally twitching, hands folded behind his head as he stood there and let you rub his cock along your nipples again and again before setting him on your plush tongue.
He had to clear his throat a few times before he could manage to say, "I'm really happy you decided to join me for my workout."
Your pretty laughter filled the garage as he helped you sit up. Once you were dressed in his sweaty shirt with your awful uniform in your hand, he followed you out the door, across the backyard and directly to the shower.
"I don't know what happened here," he rasped, rubbing his rough hand all over your soapy tits, "but I love it."
Your eyes were closed, lips softly parted as you whispered, "I'm pretty sure it's just pregnancy boobs, Roo."
"And I'm pretty sure I've never cum quite that much before. You were fucking covered in it."
He had to kiss the smirk off your face so the two of you could finish showering and get in bed. "Hey," you murmured as you draped your arm across his chest. "You haven't read any of the Nugget notebook to me since you got home."
Bradley ran his fingers along your shoulder. "I could read some of it to you now," he whispered before reaching to get the pink and blue notebook from his nightstand. He wanted you to read it. He wanted you to know everything he wrote in there, but there was one page he didn't want you to see quite yet. "Have you thought any more about baby names?" he asked as he opened the notebook.
"A little bit," you said with a yawn. "Nothing I'm totally crazy about though."
Be breathed a sigh of relief and started reading out loud. He could wait for the perfect moment to mention it, and he thought that perfect moment might be on your anniversary.
---------------------------
For the rest of the week, you absolutely refused to wear your maternity uniform to work. You wore Bradley's extra shirt instead, affixing your own insignia pins and name tag to it each morning.
"You're out of dress code," he told you for the hundredth time on Friday morning.
"I don't care," you replied as you ate a granola bar covered in mustard while you both rode to work in the blue Bronco. "If I can go one last week or two before I have to start wearing the uncomfortable tent, then that's all that matters."
Bradley laughed, and you glared playfully at him. "It's not that bad, Baby Girl. I can still get a boner with you in it."
"You could still get a boner if I was wearing a tarp."
He was quiet for a beat before he moaned and asked, "Would the tarp be the same shade of blue as the Bronco? Because yeah, I might actually like that."
"See?" you replied before popping the rest of the bar into your mouth and chewing it up. You'd been craving weird food combinations all week, and honestly the best part of your days was visiting the cafeteria where you could combine whatever you wanted into the perfect meal.
"Hey, don't forget, I won't be at lunch today," Bradley said casually. Had he mentioned that before? You weren't sure. You were starting to have bouts of forgetfulness and brain fog.
"Where are you going again?"
"Uh," he hesitated. "Well I have to go see Nicole."
Nicole was the name on the list you found in the kitchen. Something about a permit. He said he'd never met her and didn't know who she even was. "Why?"
He coasted into a parking spot as he sighed. "It's something for our anniversary. Remember?" He turned and looked at you with those big brown eyes and asked, "Can we please let this be a surprise? I've got some shit planned for that day."
Your parents weren't coming out for Thanksgiving, and the two of you weren't going to Maryland. When you called them a few days ago to let them know the baby was a girl, your mom erupted into joyous screams before starting to cry because she wasn't going to see you until Christmas. Instead, you were planning on having a quiet Thanksgiving at home in the craftsman with Jake, Cat and Jeremiah. So if Bradley wanted to plan something special for later that weekend, you didn't mind.
"Yeah. It can be a surprise, Roo." 
He looked relieved when you leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, and then he held your hand and walked you all the way to the elevator where he leaned in close. "I'll see you and your tits after work," he whispered, earning him a swat on the arm. He was laughing as he placed a big hand on your belly and said, "Love you, Nugget." 
Then you rode the elevator up to your office where you dipped a second granola bar into the container of maple syrup you brought with you and ate it before heading to your lab. You bumped into Maria in the hallway, and when you tried to say hi, she kept rushing by.
"I don't have time to talk," she said. "Bob keeps making me late for work."
You stood there in surprise for a second before you called out, "I mean, good for you though." Your hormones were an absolute mess, because by the time you walked into your own research lab, you were trying to get the image of Bob and Maria doing some nasty shit with his D&D dice out of your head. "Why am I like this right now?" you asked with a grimace.
"Like what?" Cat asked as you sat down next to her. "You're out of dress code." Then her expression melted as she said, "I swear you get bigger every day. You look so cute."
You opened your computer and casually asked, "You think you and Jake will have more kids?"
You were just trying to mess with her, but she cradled her face in her hands and groaned. "He wants to get married."
Your eyes went wide as you spun to face her. "Really? Do you? He's so good with Jeremiah."
"I can't," she whispered, looking around. "I'm still in so much debt. He's already paying for Jer's daycare on base now, and he's paying for a lawyer for me. If we get married, he'll try to pay off everything."
You shrugged. "So get a prenup or something. He loves you and Jer, and you cease to be a hardass now that he's around."
She started to spin away from you, obviously done indulging your antics, but then she said, "Can we keep this between the two of us?"
"Who would I even tell?" you asked as you typed your password.
"Your husband. And he'd tell Jake. And then Jake would come storming in here like a knight ready to save the day once again, and I don't want that."
She wasn't wrong, and you knew it. "Yeah, my lips are sealed. You're still coming for Thanksgiving dinner, right?"
"Just as long as you let me help you cook."
"One again, something I can't trust Bradley with," you muttered. "Deal."
-----------------------------
Nicole was honestly lovely. She had everything ready for Bradley to sign when he got there, and then she made some quick photocopies and sent him on his way. Perfect. The permit was in order, and now he just needed to take care of the food and figure out where to buy non-alcoholic champagne, if it even existed. But he had another full week to think about that.
When he got back to work right after lunch, he headed for the lounge to wait until he was called up by someone in the tower. The room was empty except for Nat and Bob who were eating popcorn and sleeping on the couch respectively.
"Want some?" his best friend asked, and he shoved his hand into the kernels.
"What's wrong with him?"
Nat turned to look at Bob. "Oh, he's worn out from too much sex."
"Love that for him," he muttered before shoving the popcorn into his mouth.
Nat snorted. "You're looking a little worse for the wear, too, old man."
"Am I?" he asked after he swallowed. Sometimes it was glaringly obvious that you were six years younger than him, and other times he kind of just forgot about it. But you had been a bit of a brat since the night on the weight bench. You knew now that you could use your delicious tits against him to get whatever you wanted, and you really seemed to want to get pounded into the mattress at every turn.
When Nat touched the hair at his temple, she said, "You're wearing the expression of a man who is about to be wrapped around his daughter's fingers, and you also have a few gray hairs coming in."
He'd known her long enough to be sure she wasn't joking about either of those things. When he stopped in the locker room and looked in the mirror on the way to the parking lot at the end of the day, he found that she was right. It didn't really bother him. Hell, you hadn't said a negative word about it. On the contrary, you'd kissed him right there and told him how much you loved him in bed earlier this morning. The issue was that it reminded him of his parents and how young the both were when they just stopped existing.
He pushed off from the sink forcing himself to focus on the fact that he was very much alive and very much had his wife waiting in the parking lot for him. When he found you next to his Bronco, you were in tears, and you were unbuttoning his uniform shirt which you kept insisting on wearing.
"What's wrong, Baby Girl?" he asked as he rushed to get to you, and as soon as you saw him, you flung yourself into his arms.
"I got a formal reprimand! By some random admiral!"
"For what?" he asked, even though he already knew.
You sniffed and told him, "For being out of dress code."
He waited a few seconds until you seemed a little bit calmer, and then he said, "I think this means you should start wearing the tent."
"I hate it when you're right."
He guided you around to the passenger side door and unlocked it for you. Then he let you pull his shirt off and toss it onto the seat. He didn't even ask questions as you climbed in, he just buckled your seatbelt for you and let you ride home in your bra.
The Bronco was pretty close to the house when you finally reached for his hand, and he gave it to you immediately while you pouted out the window. "Can I have a little hint?" you asked.
He stroked your soft knuckles, unsure what you were referring to. "About what, Sweetheart?"
"Our anniversary. Please? Today was so shitty, and I miss my parents, and I'm starving for grapes dipped in hot sauce, and I am pissed that I got reprimanded."
Bradley tried not to smile as he pulled into the driveway. You were always so endearing even when you were annoyed, and he was going to get you grapes and hot sauce as soon as he got you inside. "Yes, I'll give you a little hint. What do you want to know?"
He watched you unbuckle your seatbelt after he parked, and you crawled across the seat toward him, practically spilling out of your bra. As you straddled his lap and guided his hands to your bump and his sweet Nugget, you asked, "Where are you taking me?"
Bradley smiled and kissed your lips. "Back to the scene of the crime."
----------------------------
Daddy Roo with some gray hairs along his temple. Sign me and BG the fuck up. The Nugget is growing nicely on her new hot sauce diet. Up next is Thanksgiving with the Seresins and the Bradshaws along with an anniversary dinner. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 5
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lostintransist · 18 days ago
Text
Fallen Angel | Charmed
Simon knows how it started. This...superstition that leads to his men feeling safe. It involves you. Of course, it does. You have crept into every other aspect of his life, as slowly as squash vines fingering their way up bushes and houses. He doubts you even know you've done it, infiltrated his peace.
Johnny, in his ineffable suaveness, kissed you on the cheek one time as he said his goodbyes before a mission. The man got blown clear through a wall with nary a scratch. The only thing different he could remember doing had been kissing you. Bastard couldn't keep his mouth shut about it. None of the other guys had met you yet. Ghost knew that would change. Johnny wouldn't shut the fuck up about how he had to test this again, to see if a kiss from you turned out to be a lucky charm.
Military men were more in tune with spirits, vibes, cosmic entities than most religious leaders, witches, or charlatans combined. They had to be. There were no atheists in foxholes after all.
They did meet you, Price, then Gaz, then Roach. Ah, Roach. Always the last to be let into a new dynamic. A capable solider, a solid member of the 141, but still a guarded, protected member, to those on the outside. You welcomed him with a warm smile and a surprise knowledge of sign language.
"This is Roach," Gaz clapped him on the shoulder. "He doesn't speak."
Roach had glared at Kyle over his shoulder. The heat in the stare had been clear even behind his sunglasses and surgical mask.
You squinted up at Kyle from your place at the coffee table, mid-game of cribbage with Johnny. (This was the only game he had a chance of winning since luck could sway a hand in either direction).
"Does he not speak or does he not communicate with you because you're kinda an asshole?"
Kyle's nose scrunched down at you. Price laughed into his drink and Simon wouldn't help a small chuckle. He opened his mouth to defend himself but you turned to look at Roach. You moved your hands quickly, one brow lifted in question. Simon recognized only one of your moves as sign language.
Roach did a little head shake before replying, hands flying as fast as yours did.
You laugh at whatever he signs, "I am not calling you roach. My friends will not let me live it down if I make another friend with a weird name."
You glare at Johnny who grins in reply.
Roach signs more as Kyle slips into the kitchen for a drink for everyone.
"My brother is deaf. I learned to sign before I could speak, my mom taught me by virtue of signing with my brother." You sign along as you speak, telling everyone your half of the conversation at least. "We still talk regularly even though he moved to Australia to be a professor at one of their colleges."
You and Roach had hit it off, becoming fast friends. Signs flew back and forth. At one point Simon watched your brows draw together before snapping to glare at Johnny and then back to Roach. Simon watched it all with a slight fascination. Roach had never taken to anyone so fast, let alone a woman. You slid into the dynamic of the 141 as if you were molded for it.
When the guys had readied themselves to leave you ducked under Johnny's attempt to plant a kiss on you again. Instead, you dragged Roach off to the bathroom and sent him out askew. Sunglasses pushed into his hair, mask sitting wonky on his face, and several kiss marks in pink lipstick covering from ear to ear. Several were only half covered by his mask.
Johnny glared at him for getting kisses that he needed to test for luck. Gaz clapped him on the shoulder.
"Guess I'm not the only asshole here today. Better luck next time Soap. But at least we know that if Roach comes through an impossible situation then she is definitely a good luck charm."
Everyone laughed as they trailed out of the building. Simon had seen you, leaning on the railing on the top of the stairs. You sent him a two-fingered salute, he nodded and shut the door behind him.
Roach had taken a shot to the side, missing his liver by millimeters. That had confirmed it for the team, you were a good luck charm. That is why Simon had popped back to the flat, for a smidge of that luck.
He found you asleep on the couch. Peaceful. The couch would hurt you if you stayed on it too long. Simon knew from experience. He slid a hand under your knees and upper back, lifting you into his arms. You blinked sleepily up at him.
"Hi Ghost. Why are you carrying me?"
"Can't sleep on the couch," he grunted back.
"Oh," came your sleepy little reply. "Do you need a kiss?"
Only the training of years and years kept him from freezing up at your question. He pushed into your room through the cracked door, sitting you upright in your bed. He knelt on one knee at your feet. You rubbed your eyes as you looked at him.
"Yes."
He had a solo mission. This one scared him. Something in his bones told him that he wouldn't make it home in one piece.
You lift both hands to his masked face. Leaning forward you place two gentle kisses over the eyeblack of his eyelids. It wasn't enough. Ghost shifted the mask up to sit over his nose. He watched your gaze flick over his scars, moving like a dragonfly.
Still holding his face you pull him close, angling him for a kiss. The softness of your lips against his rough ones zaps at his soul. He can't help but put both hands on the bed, bracketing your hips, and pushing up into the kiss. Your thumbs slip beneath the edge of the mask, rubbing streaks in the hallows of his face.
Taking the barest part of your lip between his teeth he pulled. You breathed a moan into his mouth before pulling back. Avoiding his eyes you pull the mask down, shifting it to sit just so. Going so far as to tuck it into his hoodie you still avoid his eyes.
When your hands are settled in your lap again you look at him.
"Good luck Ghost, Simon."
He looked at you a moment more before slipping from your room and the flat altogether.
Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist
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mikkomacko · 2 months ago
Text
Him and I - Soul Bound
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Mob!Nico x reader
Warnings: some angst, but mostly cute. Mentions of death, of heartbreak.
Previous part
A/n: I apologize for how long this took me! I really really hope it was worth the wait haha. I’ll be editing and proofing later but wanted to get it out for y’all. Enjoy!
————————————————————————
Blinking softly, Nico breathes in the scent of your shampoo, the soft strands of your hair warm with each puff of air he exhales. Snowflakes scatter the streetlights coming in the bedroom window, the night clouds dumping snow on the ground. He thinks of you, contemplates waking you up so you can see it for just a moment. You love the snow, love how soft and quiet everything seems during the winter.
You’d love this storm. The flakes are big and fat, building up on the windowsill like something out of a movie.
Nico buries the tip of his nose further into your hair, restraining himself from rousing you. You need to sleep, need to get better so he can take you home. So that you’ll both get your normal lives back.
His thumb rubs circles over your hip, trying to soothe you while also lull himself back to sleep. He’s not sure what woke him. It could be the two wedding rings he has hidden in this bedroom, one that you’re very aware of. It could be the lingering bruises and cuts on your skin, marks that taunt Nico. Or it could be the fact that this entire trip has derailed his relationship with you.
He expected to leave here with a fiancée. Now he’ll be lucky if he leaves here with a girlfriend that still wants the pendant around her neck.
Swallowing heavily, Nico closes his eyes and pushes the thought out his head. You’ve picked him a million times over, he shouldn’t be scared that suddenly you wouldn’t do it again.
“Nico,” you murmur, voice just a whimper and it startles him. His body goes rigid, arms tightening around you and he cranes his neck to look down at the top of your head.
“I’m here darling, what’s wrong?”
Fingertips trail over your forehead, brushing out of place baby hairs away. You stir, heavy eyelids fighting to flutter open as his palm settles on the side of your neck, fingers lightly squeezing in encouragement. Fingers that can cause so much damage but touch you like you’re a precious pearl.
“I had a bad dream,” you finally whisper, shaken. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, guilt settling like a stone in his gut. Unable to look at you, he focuses back on the bedroom window.
“Got you,” he swears “I’ve got you baby, you’re ok.”
Your back shifts under his hands, ribs expanding as you inhale deeply and blow out a rattled breath. Then you do it again, the puff of air hot on his bare chest. Finally, you settle.
Not for long though. Shuffling, you push yourself up until you’re straddling his waist, weight heavy on his stomach and thighs but welcome. Knuckling at your sleepy eyes, you blink sluggishly at him.
“Why are you up handsome?”
He shrugs, smiling softly at the sweet name. Your fingers reach out for him, gentle and tickling as you push a strand of hair off his forehead.
“Was watching the snow fall and thinking about you.” Nico admits, voice just a whisper. Like a bolt of electricity has gone through you, you perk up, eyes brightening.
“Snowing?”
Pursing his lips to keep from laughing, Nico nods against the pillow. You duck your head down, rolling your lips inwards and trying to hide that beautiful smile from him. His heart swells with love, thumping painfully in his chest. Hands running up and down either side of your waist, he finally gives.
“Come on, let’s go outside.”
~~~~
It’s like a dream. The buttery glow of the street lights on the fresh snow, reflecting off your smiling cheeks that have turned pink in the cold.
The fabric of your snow pants swish as you waddle away from him, snow crunching loudly under both of your boots.
Clouds of fog dance in front of Nico’s eyes, thickening as he huffs and puffs after you. Stumbling after you, Nico lazily tosses the snowball in his gloved hands. It smacks you square in the back, and you squeal dramatically.
Nico stops as you whirl around, scooping up your own snowball and he hides behind his arms as you throw it into his chest. Flakes of snow drift up to his chin and cheeks, biting cold but he laughs anyway.
“Right in the heart baby?” He gasps, clutching at his pec. “Ouch.”
You pout, locking your hands together under your chin. “Oh no poor baby Nico.” You tease, a wicked grin morphing on your lips as you quickly scoop up more snow and run at him.
Tossing the half formed snowball into his stomach, you laugh evilly and try to duck around him. Luckily Nico has quick reflexes and manages to wrap his arms around you, lifting you up and swinging you in a circle.
Clutching at his hands and arms, you squeal and giggle, snow boots and legs drifting through the air. Nico keeps swaying you back and forth until his biceps burn from holding you and his stomach and cheeks ache from laughing.
“Cold?”He asks after your feet are back on the ground, the ice cold tip of his nose nudging your cheek.
“Yeah,” you pant out, still trying to catch your breath. The two of you haven’t gone far from the house. You’re still close enough that if any of the boys are light sleepers they definitely heard you laughing and play fighting. Not that Nico cares.
This is his house and he can do as he pleases on the property. Hell if he wanted to walk around buck naked he’s more than welcome to do so.
However, it is getting late (or early, he supposes) so he nudges you back towards the house with two hands on your waist. You move in silence alongside him, kicking snow off your boots on the porch before huddling into the entryway. Like a well oiled machine you seamlessly strip out of your snow clothes and layers, leaving them abandoned in heaps in front of the door to be dealt with in the morning.
Nico’s gotten down to his socks, a pair of boxers, and his shirt when you suddenly crowd into his chest, hands holding his face tenderly as you guide him down into a kiss. Like its second nature he holds you, arms snaking around your torso and lifting you to your toes so he can kiss you back.
It’s then that he realizes you’ve taken off almost everything, the only piece of clothing left on your body the soft pair of cotton underwear that brushes against his pinky finger.
Your skin is warm and soft, soothing against his thawing fingertips as he runs a hand up your spine, fingers gripping your hair.
Head fuzzy, Nico groans when you push your chest tight against his, sweetly nudging at his bottom lip with your tongue.
“Baby,” he murmurs gently, every part of him aching to just lay you down on the stupidly soft fur rug just across the way and have his way with you. But he can’t bring himself too, even if his dick is starting to thicken up in interest.
You must be able to tell by his tone, eyes fluttering open and swollen lips brushing against his. Gaze switching between his eyes, you stroke at the scruffy hairs of his beard.
“Are you ever going to stop looking at me like I’m hurt?”
It’s not accusatory. Or angry. Or even disappointed. Your tone is curious, like you’re simply asking him if he still likes coffee ice cream.
“You’re all healed up, I know.” He assures quietly, but earnestly. “And as badly as I want to make you feel good on me, I can’t until I’m certain that you’re all healed up inside too.”
Something warm and tender settles in your features, lifting the corners of your lips in a bittersweet smile.
“I know,” you whisper, slowly stepping back from him. He’s sure you’ve lost your top somewhere in the mess clothes beneath your feet, so he tugs off his own t-shirt, straightening out the sleeve. You duck your head down when he holds it open to you, helping you pull it down over your shoulders and torso.
Nico holds you again, desperate to feel you against him. His favorite thing in the world is getting to hold you close to him.
You lay your head on his shoulder, left arm squished between your two bodies and right hand innocently fiddling with the waistband of his boxers.
Bashfully, you say, “I don’t know how to be, though. I’m so mad at Timo, and I’ve never been mad at him before. And then I feel bad because I’m not mad you but I should be if I’m mad at him. But I don’t even know why I’m mad.”
Nico hums, swallowing thickly. You maybe should be mad at him. He knows he didn’t handle the situation well, knows he let his fear get ahold of him and he shut you down to protect you. Instead of using this as a chance to make you stronger and smarter, he put you in metaphorical bubble wrap.
“Yes you do,” he finally responds. “You just won’t say it because you don’t think it justifies how upset you are. But it does baby, and you have every right to feel that way.”
You sniffle. “Ok.”
He shakes his head fondly, amused by your lack of response and knowing that it simply means you’re really listening to him.
“But Timo has his own justifications for what he did and until you hear his side of it, you’ll both just be angry at each other.”
Your hand runs up his stomach, fingers cold on his skin and you teasingly pinch at the fat on his lower belly. “When did you get so smart?”
Looking up at him with twinkling eyes and an amused grin, Nico presses a soft kiss between your eyes.
“When I met you.”
~~~~
Nico’s arm is heavy on your shoulders as the two of you descend the stairs. It’s obvious that last nights snowy adventure has left you two exhausted if the dragging feet and yawns are anything to go by.
Chatter, the noisy clattering of pans and silverware travel from the kitchen. Sharing a curious look with Nico, you stop in the entryway and blink twice to make sure you’re not still sleeping.
Mercer is standing over the stove, a pan of bacon popping and sizzling in front of him. Luke is looming over the toaster, a loaf of bread in hand and a pile of toast stacked on a plate. At the bar top, Timo is elegantly slicing through tomatoes, carefully watching Alex in front of him who is doing his best to replicate Timo’s technique. And Jack sits with them, nimble fingers tearing apart a head of lettuce and laying the leafs out on a platter.
Mouth parted in shock, Mercer turns around, a spatula with greasy bacon in hand. He freezes when he spots you two, eyes wide and caught. You realize he’s wearing a white apron that reads “I ♥️ fondue” and wonder if it’s Timo’s or Nico’s.
“Morning sleepyheads.” He greets, bacon dripping grease onto the floor. Beside you, Nico sighs and drags a hand across his face.
“Mess, Merc.” He grumbles, more tired than annoyed or angry.
Mercer makes a noise of surprise, rushing to the island counter and laying the strips of bacon out on a platter. Nico removes his arm from you, grabbing the dish towel off the oven rack and moving to clean up the mess.
“Thanks boss,” Mercer grins, going back to his post at the stove. Nico grunts in acknowledgment, haphazardly throwing the rag into the sink as he heads towards the corner where the coffee pot is nestled.
One track minded for his morning caffeine, Nico putters around silently, dipping in and out of cabinets.
Rubbing your eyes, you look at the other boys. Jack is still going about his business of arranging lettuce pieces but he’s got a shit eating grin on his face, watching Nico intently. You already know he’s waiting for his boss to perk up so he can make some crude remarks or guesses at why the both of you slept in today.
Avoidant, Timo is locked in on the task of slicing tomatoes but you can tell he’s distracted. He’s slowed down, hands moving like molasses as if he’s putting more effort into not looking around than he is cutting vegetables.
Alex however, is watching you. He’s still holding his knife and half cut tomato in his hands, but they sit limp on the counter top. He angles himself towards you, gaze hesitant.
“I tried to make your matcha for you. It’s in the fridge. Not sure how good it is though.”
As usual, he just warms your heart. They couldn’t even make a cup of coffee for Nico, they’re boss, and yet Alex took the time to make you matcha before he started on breakfast BLTs with the rest of them.
“Thanks,” you smile, “M’sure it’s fine. If Nico can make it, anyone can.”
Now leaning against the counter next to Luke, Nico glares at you over the rim of his coffee mug. Even so he looks cute, all puffy eyes and messy hair, thick eyebrows pinched together.
You clear your throat, smiling drooping as you soak in how awkward it feels to be around all of them. How Luke still hasn’t said a word and that’s weird of him. Neither has Jack, and that’s so out of character it’s detrimentally concerning.
And poor Alex who looks like he’s just swallowed a buzzing alarm clock, who has never been holy at handling conflict between those he loves. Guilty, you’re moving before you can even think about it.
Timo must see you coming though because he drops everything in his hands, turning just right that you fit perfectly into the seam of his shoulder when you throw your arms around him.
He’s bigger than Nico, just a hair taller and a bit thicker, but the two of you are like pieces of the same puzzle. Different than you and Nico, but just as perfect.
The hug doesn’t say everything you need it to, but it says enough. You can tell by the way he sighs in relief, breath hot on the top of your head and he melts into you. Your fingers cling to his back, holding him tightly and desperately and it feels like the more you cling to him the tighter he squeezes you around the shoulders.
Closing your watering eyes, you puff out a weighted breath. “Please tell me you helped him make that matcha?” You whisper, just loud for Timo to hear. You can feel his laugh on your skin.
“Of course I did.”
~~~~
Picking at the sleeve of your cable knit sweater, you look from Nico to Timo, lips pursed. Your sat on the freshly made bed, legs crossed over each other in front of you and that teddy bear from Nico’s childhood bedroom resting by your feet.
Timo clears his throat uncomfortably, sat in the large windowsill across from the bed. The sky behind him is bright and blue, showing off after a night of dumping snow in the town. It hurts your eyes a bit to look at it, stabs at the tender spot behind your right eye.
Nico is slowly pacing by the side of the bed. Not anxiously or uneasy, but in a way that makes you feel both of those. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest, the string of his hoodie bitten between his teeth.
Every once in awhile he looks up from his feet, looks at Timo like he can’t really decide what to do with him. Then he looks at you, and his eyes go all gentle and soft, and his lips lift just the slightest bit. Then he looks back at his feet and paces.
“Um Schoa?”
He stops, looks up at you expectantly. “Hi, wanna sit for a second?” You ask politely, patting the bed next to you. His brow furrows.
“Why?”
Laughing, you say, “So that I can hold your hand when I tell you that we don’t need a mediator.”
Across the room Timo chuckles. Nico’s head snaps over to glare at him and Timo hides his smile behind his hand, pretending to scratch above his lip.
Climbing to your knees, you shuffle to the end of the bed until you can reach Nico, taking his hands in yours. Your touch pulls his attention from Timo, gaze going tender as it falls on you. You almost melt at the way his head tilts ever so slightly and his thumbs rub at the back of your hands.
“I know that I just…”
“Just what?” You encourage.
His next breath comes out slow and calculated, eyebrows pinching ever so slightly as he thinks. “I’m trying to decide if I should make you two wait to do this and take you with me to Luca’s.”
The investigation (and subsequent interrogation) that had taken place after Lena and Marcello abducted you was officially completed a few days ago. Luca has been waiting for you to heal before he wanted to go over the run down and findings with Nico.
You know why Nico is so torn up about making you and Timo go. He’s trying to open the work side of the family to you, just as you’d asked him to do. He wants you to feel included, to know that he’s not trying to hide this.
But at the same time, you’re relationship with Timo is more important to you than knowing why and what happened that day in his grandfathers old house.
Besides, it makes your skin crawl thinking about having to watch security footage, hear stories and records taken during interrogation with Luca and the rest of the boys around. Probably Nina too, and whatever men they have tailing them.
Embarrassing, you decide. It would so embarrassing to look them in the eye after they’ve seen you at your weakest.
“I want to hear it from you,” you say, fingers tightening around his palms. “Just you, please.”
He reads you so well. Can tell immediately why you don’t want to go, that you only trust him enough to relive that day with him. No one else.
“Ok,” Nico agrees easily, right hand letting go of yours to cradle the back of your head. He ducks down and presses a comforting peck to your forehead. “I promise I’ll tell you everything we find, show you whatever you want after ok?”
He straightens out, smoothes his hand over the top of your head and looks to Timo.
“You’ll be updated too,” Nico tells him. “As long as you keep her safe and happy today, deal?”
Your best friend scoffs. “That’s literally my job description. Along with being hot.”
His words make you giggle, the sound so unexpected you press into Nico’s stomach to stifle the sound into his hoodie. You know better than to laugh when Nico is talking business, but sometimes those boys get the best of you.
And as much as Nico pretends it annoys him, you know he likes to see how happy the family makes you. You can tell by the way he softly tugs at the roots of your hair, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you look up at him. He’s fighting back an amused grin when you do.
“Come on Schao,” you mumble. “Get outta here, it’s Timo time.”
~~~~
Snow crunching under your boots, you sip at your latte, wincing when the foam burns the tip of your tongue, but too impatient to wait for it to cool.
To the left of you, Timo has popped the lid off of his drink, swirls of steam billowing up into the frigid air and he’s cautiously blowing to cool the liquid down.
You watch him out of the corner of your eye, the two of you strolling lackadaisically through the streets of town. After a moment he takes a deep breath, gloved hand shoving the lid back on his latte. He takes a sip.
“I’m sorry that I left you in the hospital that day,” he finally says, voice quiet like he’s unsure of what to even say. “I should’ve told Nico that you could handle it.”
“Do you really believe that?” You ask, “or are you just saying that now?”
He frowns, lips pursuing. He looks like he’s fighting himself on what to say and you’re unsure if that’s a bad thing or not.
“When Nico came me to that day and told me he lost you, it was like the ground fell out beneath me,” he shakes his head. “I don’t know how Nico kept his cool, but I mean he’s always been good at knowing what to do and when to do it.
“So when he said it wasn’t the best idea to let you at Lena and stuff, I trusted him-“
“You should’ve trusted me.” You cut in, the reminder of him picking Nico over you making your temper flare.
“I know I know,” Timo concedes, holding a hand out to stop you at the streets crosswalk. He checks both ways before nodding you along. “But I was scared and I just-I couldn’t-I didn’t trust myself.”
The sidewalk under your feet feels slick, and you reach out to link your arm through Timo’s. He’s sturdy, locking your arm under his bicep and slipping his hand into his pocket.
“What do you mean?”
Timo sighs heavily, breath shaking with the weight of it. “It was my job to train you, to prepare you to be Nico’s prinzessin and I failed. Somewhere along the way, something you were supposed to know didn’t click and I didn’t make sure that it did. And then all of this happened.
“I did this to you and Nico!”
He’s stopped walking now, angled himself towards you. His eyes are wet and red when they meet yours, the sadness in them colder than the winter temperatures.
“I had to side with him. It was the only thing that felt right after I screwed up so badly. You know Nico, he can fix literally anything.”
You wrench your arm out of his hold, rising to your toes and throwing it around his neck into a bruising hug.
Timo tucks his face into your shoulder, shoulders hunching down to meet your height. Blinking away the tears in your own eyes, you look up at the bright blue sky and focus on the puffy clouds drifting by.
“I had a panic attack,” you murmur weakly. “At the party. Nico and I were fighting, it felt like he was so far away and I just freaked. It was like I was on autopilot, I just went outside to catch my breath.”
You swallow thickly, choking back tears. “As soon as the world around me came back I realized what I did and tried to go back but-“
“Don’t say it,” he cuts off, voice strained and broken. “Don’t tell me how they hurt you.”
“I should’ve been ready,” you continue instead. “Everything they did I went over with you a million times. At least everything I can remember them doing. B-but it was like my head was exploding. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t see.
“My head hurt so badly. I could feel the instructions and lessons right there but nothing was clicking. All I could think about was Nico, how much I wanted him there.”
The air is colder on your cheeks now, and you realize it’s the wet trails of tears that burn. You tuck into Timo shoulders, wet eyelashes fluttering shut to hide from the world.
“I failed Timo. You and Nico prepared me, I just couldn’t do it.”
The arm around your middle squeezes, so tightly it takes your breath away. “That’s not true,” he utters, earnestly. “You didn’t fail. You showed all of us up, you got Luca to side with you. You got the boys out here.
“You showed me and Nico that you know how to lead, all on your own.”
His assurance is like warm water trickling on your head, trailing down into your bones. It’s soothing, calming to hear. Especially from him, from your best friend in the entire world. And he’s a people pleaser, he’ll tell anyone anything they want to hear. This, however, is sincere.
You can tell by the way he looks down at you after you’ve released him from your hug, baby blue eyes certain and steady.
He holds his arm out to you. “M’sorry I didn’t listen to you before.”
“I’m sorry I shut down on you,” you apologize, taking his arm like before. He nods down the street.
“Come on. I want to show you something.”
~~~~
The room is so silent, Nico thinks he could hear snowflakes hitting the roof of the building if he really listened. If it weren’t for the sound of Holtzy breathing so shakily, angrily.
Nico knows the feeling.
The large display screen in Luca’s conference room has gone dark, reflecting a distorted image of them gathered around the table. Nico doesn’t really see that picture. No, he still sees Marcello tying to the chair, how harshly your limo body was thrown down and manipulated with rope. He can still see the way your head lulled, even after you woke up. The way you tried to move and he’s not sure if the bindings stopped you or the fact that you looked like you couldn’t even identify your own limbs.
He can still see the blood that smattered the floor when Lena hit you. Can see and hear the way you cried when Marcello touched you.
Nico never got the footage of the warehouse in Philly when you taken the first time. He had no way of accessing it, especially after he lit the place on fire. He’s thankful for that now.
If he can’t stand to see this, he would’ve died seeing that.
“All of that because she wanted Nico?”
It’s Luke who speaks up first, lips curled in disdain as he looks away from the screen to Luca. The older Hischier sibling looks guilty as he nods, bringing a fist to his mouth as he clears his throat.
“She wanted the business. And the only way to get that for her was through Nico.”
The phones they’d taken and unlocked from Marcello and Lena lay on the oak table in front of him, message threads pulled up. Nico doesn’t need to read them again. Doesn’t need to see another video, hear anymore audio. The story is clear cut.
Lena convinced Marcello that you were using Nico, that you wanted to infiltrate the family from the inside where’d you’d be able to take over both Luca and Nina’s territory.
Marcello believed her, spurred by the fact that they never saw you in a Devs pendant or with a ring. Because in the states, those marks are subtle and hidden. Yours is always tucked under your shirt.
Unlike in Switzerland, where a pendant is always flaunted, every outfit centered around the piece of gold.
And then they devised a plan. One carefully laid out in a text thread between the two the same night Nico took you to Luca’s bar. The same night that you had a run with Lena, apparently. Her friends said something to Luca about it, his camera picked up the moment in front of the bathroom, and Nina confirmed it.
Nico had no idea about it. Hadn’t even known his ex-whatever was even back in town. He can’t believe he didn’t notice. He’s usually so attentive, so analytic of his whereabouts. He’d let his guard down that night too. Because he was so happy to see his siblings, to see you fit right into that booth in the bar with his sister and at the pool table with Luca.
He remembers holding you that night in the bar. Loving and kissing on you in a way he doesn’t normally do in public. How he swayed you to his favorite song and held your waist when helping you line up the queue ball. The way he whispered stupid little things into your ear just to get you to giggle and curl into him, give him a reason to press sweet kisses to your neck and cheeks.
Lena most of noticed. Must of seen how fucking in love he is with you. He never took her to his family’s places, never played her any songs he liked, never tried to make her laugh.
It makes him nauseous to think that someone took that love and used it to hurt you. That she saw him with you and decided that was reason enough to put you in the hospital, to articulate a plan that would take you out of his life forever.
Because that was the intention.
It’s written out in front of him. Kidnap you, use you as bait to get a private meeting with Nico. And when he’d get there by himself, Marcello would have the barrel of his pistol to your temple and Nico would barely get to say your name before he’d pull the trigger.
And Lena would throw herself at him, threaten to turn him in for treason if he didn’t agree to get back with her. She’d tell his whole family how you were using them, say Nico was in on it, and that would be it.
“She should’ve killed her,” Holtzy mutters, and Nico can’t say he disagrees with him. There was a reason he was saving Marcello and Lena after their interrogation. He wanted to have the whole story before he decided what to do.
You took matters into your own hands though, and Nico now thinks that was merciful of you. Because he’d hurt them in ways they could never imagine if he had the chance to now.
All of this because Marcello couldn’t think to check around your fucking neck for a ring or pendant before he strangled you with Nico’s scarf.
“Alex,” Nina breathes in disappointment, lips parted like she wants to scold him or defend you letting Lena live.
“She should’ve,” Nico agrees, so angry it burns his skin, claws at his throat. “She should’ve fucking killed all of us. When we left her at that hospital, when we lied to her.”
He looks over at his boys, at Holtzy who’s always been so fiercely defensive and protective of you it rivals Nico. At Luke and Jack who tease the two of you, who tell you that you can do better and love to drive the two of you crazy but still flew out here last minute because they believe in you. And Mercer who’s always so immature and playful, goofing off and acting like he’s still the 17 year old kid Nico brought into Jersey.
Mercer who worked with you and Luca to execute your plan of revenge. He stepped up lead, got them all together on that flight, was your second in command. The boys took orders from him that day, same as you.
He’s proud of them. Nico is so fucking proud of this group of kids that you turned into men.
“But she did what she thought was best, not what she wanted,” he tells Holtzy. “And we have to trust and accept that.”
The room goes quiet again. Luca takes his seat at the head of the table, running his hands through his hair. Nico locks the stolen phones, stacking them on top of each other and putting them in his hoodie pocket. In case you want to see them.
“I’m retraining,” Luca sighs. “All of my men. In phases every section is going through boot camp again. So that this never happens again Neeky.”
Nico nods, flashing a quick but grateful smile at his brother. He doesn’t blame Luca for this. He knows how Lena is -was- how conniving and controlling. She was so good at always playing the victim.
“We want to have a party kind of thing for you all before you head back to Jersey,” Luca nods towards the younger boys. “End on a happier note. I’ll shut down the bar for a night, have security still but it’ll be safer. Better.”
Nico takes a deep breath, tries to shake off how exhausting this meeting was. “We’ll be there.”
Nina is tapping her fingers on the table top, gaze burning into the side of Nico’s head. He looks over at her, raises an expectant eyebrow.
“When are you gonna do it?”
It. Propose. Nico winces.
“Do what?”
“What are you doing boss?”
Nico thinks the Hughes brothers could be twins with how in sync they always are, how they seem to have the same thoughts. He could kill Nina for bringing this up in front of them.
“Not here,” Nico mutters, looking away when Nina groans in frustration.
“You fought to get her back just to bail! Come on Nico, I saw you that day! You can’t let this scare you off.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching as he tries to keep his tone in check. He didn’t want to talk about this, didn’t want to be reminded that the whole purpose of this trip got hijacked and now he’s returning to the states with not just one, but two engagement rings. Neither of which are on your finger.
“M’not gonna do this to her here, Nina.”
“Why not?” She presses. “What could be better? She loves it here, you heard her.”
His temper flares, exploding out of him like boiling oil. “No I heard her screaming and crying as she was tortured!
“I watched her fight for her life in a place she was supposed to be happy. So no I’m not pulling out a ring, and looking her in the eye and explaining that the picture perfect proposal she asked for was lost because I left her alone for five minutes, but please marry me anyway. Sorry I’m asking in my brother’s sticky bar.”
Nico’s chest heaves, angry puffs of air rattling out of him as he sinks back into his chair. He rakes a hand through his hair, tugging on the strands painfully for some kind of release.
He can feel the eyes of all them, watching him like he might start yelling again.
“Boss,” Mercer mumbles cautiously, “she’d still marry you, you know that.”
Nico sighs, nods. “Yeah I know. She told me she still wants to. I just-I have to do it right. And it’s not right anymore.”
“Neeky, you could pull out a ring pop in the bathroom of the bar and that girl would still say yes to you.”
Nina is right. He knows she’s right. You told him that as long as he had the ring and was on his knee, you’d say yes.
But that’s not the point. The point is that he wanted it to be a big deal. Something he planned out, put thought into every detail. He wanted you to see the intention. That way you know he’s doing this because he wants to. Because he wants you.
“I know,” he mutters, the sound of you calling yourself a Hischier on that tape echoing in his head. The last name isn’t officially yours yet, but it’s yours in every sense of the word. “It’s not about her saying yes, I know she’ll say yes. It’s about me…”
Showing her.
He has to show you. Because he’s not great at saying things. He’s better with actions.
“It’s fine,” Nico dismisses, “I’ll figure something out.”
~~~~
Kids laughing and chattering fills the air, echoing around the large skating rink. Timo had bypassed the skate rentals desk when you came in, instead guiding you straight towards the upper stands.
You don’t know why he’s bringing you here, or why he’s staying so far from the actual ice, but you follow him anyway.
The sound of skates scraping the ice flitters up into the rafters, and you glance over to find a group of excited kids skating messily around the rink.
Timo sits dead center in the row, holding down your seat for him and you gladly take it, propping up your half-drank latte on your thigh. You look down, watch the kids skate and notice a woman among them. Beautiful red hair in a thick and loose braid, a black and white skating costume on, the sleeves and pants glittering with gems under the bright lights.
“Nico and I learned to skate here,” Timo says, crossing his foot over his knee and relaxing back into his seat like muscle memory. You wonder how many times he’s come here, probably sat in this exact same seat for some reason.
“It’s a nice rink,” you say, looking over. He’s looking at the ice so intently you think his gaze might magically melt it, create little pools of slush. No, he’s not looking at the ice, you realize, he’s looking at her. At the beautiful red head that’s now gathering the children in a circle for stretches.
“When we were about 13, this girl moved here. Went to our school and everything. She got on well with Nico. We would come here after school everyday, when we were putting off assignments especially. Luca would buy us tickets for the train and we’d come with him because he skated better.
“One day she was here too. And it was like nothing, the way she’d just join us. Never hockey, but she’d skate with us. And she was so beautiful, that way she moved, the way she opened up when she got on the ice…”
His voice has gone soft, distant like he’s lost in this vivid memory of this old friend. You take in the lovesick look on his face, so clear even from just his side profile, and it clicks. He brought you here because that girl on the ice right now is the girl he’s telling you about.
The girl he’d left here. The one Nico briefly mentioned to you once, a few years back when you asked him why Timo, with his beautiful blue eyes and his sweet smile, never went out on dates.
“Timo’s heart is back in Switzerland,” Nico had explained. “His girl is still there, I think.”
You reach over, lay your hand over his in his lap and he blinks, his fingers relaxing under your hold. “Her parents didn’t like us. They knew about Nico and his family, about how I was training with him too. Nico’s grandfather wasn’t the nicest person, hell Rino and Katja are like saints compared to his grandfather.
“So they told her to stay away from us. But she didn’t. Everyday she got on the train with us, sat right next to me and would pull out this cucumber snacks her mother made. She always had them for me. And I started bringing her stuff too. Chocolate and sweets from around my house. She has a sweet tooth but her mother never let her have it. Said it would make her unhealthy.”
Timo laughed quietly to himself, like he still can’t believe her parents were like that. Or maybe at his own rebelliousness, how he went directly against them to make her happy.
“That’s really sweet Timo,” you murmur, smiling to yourself. You’ve known he was a big softie, could’ve guessed that he’d be even worse when in love.
“Yeah, it was. We dated for a long time after that. Snuck around behind her parents back, even though we know they knew. But it was fun. And I was like a puppy in love…”
Something sad settles over his features, glosses over his eyes and he sighs softly.
You fill in the next part for him. “And then you left to Jersey with Nico.”
Timo puffs out his cheeks, nods just once. “I asked her to come with. Told her I’d marry her as soon as we got there. And she agreed, was ready to give up everything, even her figure skating career to come with me.
“But she wasn’t 18 yet and her parents could use that to stop her visa. They told her she couldn’t go with, they forbid it. And they threatened to disown her too.”
You laugh humorlessly, familiar with the abandonment of family. It makes you sad to think of her not even getting the chance to pick. Yeah it broke you to have to make a decision between Nico and your loved ones, but at least you had the agency to make that pick. Her parents never gave her that.
“Every time I’m here I come see her. Beg her to come with me. She’s not close to her parents anymore, but she never got over that teenage fear. And she has a career and a life here now. One without me.
“How am I supposed to ask her to give that up?”
He’s looking at you now, eyes glossy and begging, and it breaks your heart. You had no idea how tormented by love Timo has been all these years. That every year when he makes his annual trip home he tears open old wounds just to see his teenage sweetheart that he never got over.
Answers. He wants answers from you because you had been her before.
You swallow thickly, frowning sympathetically at him. “Tell her that,” you advise. “Tell her how much it hurts you to ask her to give that life up. And if she really loves you, it won’t matter.
“It’s not exactly a sacrifice if what you’re getting in return is far better in the end.”
“Is that how it was?” He asks. “For you and Nico?”
It’s not even a question you have to think about, nodding as your lips curl into a loving smile. “Yeah it was. Nico told me he’d never want to make me choose, but my family wanted me to. And no one who really loves you would make you choose.”
Timo sniffles, blinking back his tears and turning back to the rink. “I don’t want her to pick, I just want her to be happy. And I know she loves me still. Every time I’m home we fall back into who we were when I left. Like no time has ever passed.”
You can’t help but ache for him. So you lean your head against his shoulder, hold his hand to let him know you’re here for him, always.
“You know, for being my best friend, you kept this from me for a long time.”
Timo chuckles, squeezing your fingers in acknowledgment. “I wanted her to myself for a bit longer. And I knew if I told you you’d come flying over here in that jet to get her to come to Jersey.”
On the ice, the beautiful red head looks up from her lesson, immediately finding Timo in the stands. You were right, this must be his spot in the rink, some seat of significance.
Timo lifts his free hand, waving at her and she effortlessly skates a little flourish, wiggling her fingers back at him with a smile so wide you can see it from all the way up here.
You and Nico have your love story, you decide, and now it’s time for Timo to have his too. Whether it’s convincing him to stay here with her or convincing her to come home with him, you’ll do whatever it takes.
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hollowed-theory-hall · 7 months ago
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Ok so Harry has a tendency to blatantly state out loud just how much the Dursleys don't give two shits about him (to the point that the people around him think it's just a typical teenager over exaggerating their complaints), but... Does he realise that the way he is being treated by them is wrong?
Also like, I know that the way the Dursleys treated him plays a huge part in the way Harry behaves and views himself- specifically him not thinking an adult is a reliable source of help and protection + his disastrouly low self esteem + how he doesn't respond to Snape's everything (which is the exact opposite of what James would have done) ... But what are the other ways in which he got affected and it shows? (Someone once mentioned that they hc that when feeling extreme emotions Harry tends to skip out on food and may have nearly wasted away in his second year had it not been for Ron and Hermione- which is also why they act so much like Harry's bodyguards)
Yep, Harry put no effort into hiding his abuse. He literally told anyone who would listen. By 5th year, he was making jokes about it to Ron and Hermione who seemed used to it.
Now, you've raised a few questions and I'll try to answer them to the best of my ability.
Does he realise that the way he is being treated by them is wrong?
I think he does. Most of his comments about his relatives' treatment definitely sound like Harry is very aware that he shouldn't be treated like that.
“I told you, I didn’t — but it’ll take too long to explain now — look, can you tell them at Hogwarts that the Dursleys have locked me up and won’t let me come back, and obviously I can’t magic myself out, because the Ministry’ll think that’s the second spell I’ve done in three days, so —” “Stop gibbering,” said Ron. “We’ve come to take you home with us.” “But you can’t magic me out either —” “We don’t need to,” said Ron, jerking his head toward the front seat and grinning. “You forget who I’ve got with me.” “Tie that around the bars,” said Fred, throwing the end of a rope to Harry. “If the Dursleys wake up, I’m dead,” said Harry as he tied the rope tightly around a bar and Fred revved up the car. “Don’t worry,” said Fred, “and stand back.”
(COS, page 31)
“It was cloudy, Mum!” said Fred. “You keep your mouth closed while you’re eating!” Mrs. Weasley snapped. “They were starving him, Mum!” said George. “And you!” said Mrs. Weasley, but it was with a slightly softened expression that she started cutting Harry bread and buttering it for him.
(COS, page 39)
But Harry wasn’t going to stand for this. Gone were the days when he had been forced to take every single one of the Dursleys’ stupid rules.
(GOF, page 33)
“Excellent,” said Lupin, looking up as Tonks and Harry entered. “We’ve got about a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we’re ready. Harry, I’ve left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry —” “They won’t,” said Harry. “That you’re safe —” “That’ll just depress them.” “— and you’ll see them next summer.” “Do I have to?” Lupin smiled but made no answer.
(OOTP, page 54)
“You don’t seem to need many qualifications to liaise with Muggles. . . . All they want is an O.W.L. in Muggle Studies. . . . ‘Much more important is your enthusiasm, patience, and a good sense of fun!’ ” “You’d need more than a good sense of fun to liaise with my uncle,” said Harry darkly. “Good sense of when to duck, more like . . .”
(OOTP, page 657)
It seems Harry is very much aware that the way he is being treated is wrong. the younger Weasleys and Hermione are clearly aware of that too. Harry calls the Dursleys' rules stupid, he knows the Dursleys aren't treating him the way they should and that he doesn't have to take it. That he shouldn't have to take it.
Harry is kind of a best-case scenario of an abused kid and Dumbledore was so lucky Harry ended up functional enough for his plans. It could've so easily gone down differently.
Honestly, I'm enraged on Harry's behalf at how Arthur, Molly, and Lupin (and every other adult) just completely ignore his mistreatment. He really does just state plainly what's going on and has Ron, Fred, George, and Hermione backing up everything he says.
What are the other ways in which he got affected and it shows?
I do like when Harry's approach to food is affected by the Dursleys starving him, that being said, there isn't really any book evidence for it. It's an interesting headcanon to explore though. His low self-esteem, willingness to endanger himself, and his thinking that adults be counted on are definitely effects seen in the books. As for other things we do see in the books:
1. Harry is actually really quiet. He doesn't speak as much as Ron and Hermione and he's pretty awkward with social interaction. He mimics Ron in many ways since he never had any friends before him.
His approach to studying is one of the ways he mimics Ron socially. Harry actually read their school books before 1st year, he found Hedwig's name in a History of Magic. And he planned to study at the beginning of Philosopher's Stone. Then he meets Ron and realizes no one in Gryffindor except Hermione actually studies, and she is hated for it. So he didn't bother studying either, even though he planned to because he wanted to fit in.
2. Harry isn't great at emotional regulation, specifically anger. Harry is a pretty angry character and throughout the books, he actually has moments when he completely loses himself to a sense of anger.
A boiling hate erupted in Harry’s chest, leaving no place for fear. For the first time in his life, he wanted his wand back in his hand, not to defend himself, but to attack . . . to kill.
(POA, page 339)
“Madame Maxime!” said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. “Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!” Somewhere under Harry’s numb disbelief he felt a ripple of anger. Little boy?
(GOF, page 275)
Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him. . . . If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse . . . he’d have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching. . . .
(GOF, page 300)
If Dudley’s friends saw him sitting here, they would be sure to make a beeline for him, and what would Dudley do then? He wouldn’t want to lose face in front of the gang, but he’d be terrified of provoking Harry. . . . It would be really fun to watch Dudley’s dilemma; to taunt him, watch him, with him powerless to respond . . . and if any of the others tried hitting Harry, Harry was ready — he had his wand . . . let them try . . . He’d love to vent some of his frustration on the boys who had once made his life hell —
(OOTP, page 11)
He does calm down the older he gets. But he definitely has a lot of anger in him.
3. Harry, in general, has a disrespect for authority. I assume this is an extension of his distrust of adults, in that no teacher or nurse ever helped him. Harry is so anti-authority and anti-orders, that he can resist the Imperius Curse decently from the first try.
Harry just doesn't do orders or authority. Actually in the earlier books, and even in books 6 and 7, Harry has his doubts about Dumbledore. He repeatedly tells people he's Dumbledore's man, but in his head, he has doubts. Like he has for any other adult with authority over him.
“Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!” he hissed. “He’s not as gone as you might think!” Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true —
(COS, page 282)
“Because the Ministry of Magic’s still after me, and Voldemort will know all about me being an Animagus by now, Wormtail will have told him, so my big disguise is useless. There’s not much I can do for the Order of the Phoenix . . . or so Dumbledore feels.” There was something about the slightly flattened tone of voice in which Sirius uttered Dumbledore’s name that told Harry that Sirius was not very happy with the headmaster either. Harry felt a sudden upsurge of affection for his godfather.
(OOTP, pages 82-83)
He's very distrusting of adults and authority, but also his peers. He doesn't tell Ron and Hermione everything in the earlier books because he is very slow to trust. Which, makes sense for someone who grew up like he did.
4. His occasional impulsiveness is an extension of his issues with emotional regulation, I think.
5. I think Harry's cunning Slytherin streak is a result of his abuse. The Dursleys' mistreatment taught him to sneak around, to lie, to be clever. It taught him to keep a blank face when being yelled at because if he reacted it'll make it worse.
He learned how to insult the Dursleys in ways that go over Dudley's head. His little way to rebel.
6. His response to pain as well. We see it with Umbridge and the blood quill for example:
He let out a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of Harry’s right hand, cut into his skin as though traced there by a scalpel — yet even as he stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth. Harry looked around at Umbridge. She was watching him, her wide, toadlike mouth stretched in a smile. “Yes?” “Nothing,” said Harry quietly. He looked back at the parchment, placed the quill upon it once more, wrote I must not tell lies, and felt the searing pain on the back of his hand for a second time
(OOTP, page 267)
Harry can hide his pain and not react to it, and he does it well. He learned from the Dursleys that she wants to see his pain, and he isn't going to give her what she wants. Instead, he grits his teeth through it and doesn't react externally.
Even later in the book when Umbridge threatens with the Crociatus Curse, Harry just braces himself for it, not planning to break (in later books too, Harry is very willing to get hurt and just deal with it). He is willing to take torture without reacting, and I think this is something he got from the Dursleys.
These are the some other things that came to mind regarding your question. There are probably more that I can't think of now that I might add later. Harry is who he is in part because of his nightmare of a childhood. So many facets of his personality just link back to it.
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nataliasquote · 7 days ago
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Double the trouble | Switch Up | n romanoff
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Double the trouble AU
Summary: Yelena is back, the twins are older, and her scheming ways do nothing but backfire. a mother always knows…
Age: 8
Warnings: none
wc: 3.3k
note: hello! I’m back with another little oneshot for DTT. I’ve missed writing tbh and although this isn’t the best, I’m pleased to finally write. I’m sorry for keeping you waiting!
-⧗-
Leaving the twins with Yelena was either the best idea or the worst idea Natasha had ever had. But with Wanda away visiting her brother, Natasha didn’t really have much of a choice. Work didn’t allow her to take time off like this, so she turned to the next best thing.
The blonde was as grumpy as anything until she was faced with the two bundles of joy that were her nieces. She hated kids, but Isla and Y/n were an exception. She opened the door with a huge grin as the twins came barreling towards her, crouching barely over the threshold to collect them in a hug.
Natasha hovered back by the stairs with a soft smile tugging at her lips. Despite having a rocky patch, she truly loved Yelena with all her heart. And seeing her girls happy was all that mattered. She wished she could stay, but with new development plans happening at the studio, she had to oversee the final meeting.
“Are you staying all day?” Isla asked, peering round to look at Yelena’s truck parked in the driveway. “Where’s Fanny?”
“I’ll get her out in a minute, and yes I am, lucky duck.” The twins cheered at her response, their chatter tumbling over the top of each other as they bombarded their aunt with questions. Natasha quickly stepped in, taking them by the hand so Yelena could finally enter the house. After sending her girls over to the couch, Natasha pulled Yelena to one side, whispering in hushed voices.
“It shouldn’t take long, but in case I’m held back, there’s boxed mac and cheese in the cupboard and the girls made cookies last night so they’re in the green jar.”
“Mac and cheese, green jar, got it.”
“Please don’t give them too much sugar,” Natasha warned, knowing her sister’s tendencies, “and they have been arguing a lot, so good luck.” She didn’t really need to tell Yelena what to do, she’d babysat since they were really little, but it gave Natasha a piece of mind to know they were well looked after.
“Natasha, they’ll be fine. Don’t you trust me? Yelena asked with a grin.
“Absolutely not.”
Yelena rolled her eyes, stuffing her hands into her pockets. “So who’s the troublemaker this time?”
“Y/n has been in a mood for the past few days, so it’s currently her. Apparently Isla's existence annoys her.” As if on cue, a yell sounded from the living room and Natasha inwardly groaned. A moment of peace was never on the cards.
As she went to sort out whatever argument was occurring with her eight year olds, Yelena let Fanny out of the car and watched the Akita bound up the front steps, her tail wagging frantically. Any normal person would feel bad about the amount of hair she shed, but it only made Yelena laugh. She truly made every place her home.
The scene in the living room was absurd even for Yelena. Natasha was scolding a pouting Y/n whilst Isla cried in her arms, clutching something hidden behind her hair. Yelena hovered awkwardly, unsure how to approach, and Fanny did the same. It was almost like she could read the room.
Natasha, breathing a sigh of relief, gestured for Yelena to approach, to which she did. A sniffly Isla was pushed in her direction and the young girl lunged at her aunt, clinging to her waist with a sob.
“What happened?” Yelena mouthed, her eyebrows shooting up as Natasha held up what looked like a barbie doll. “Where’s the hair?”
“This one got scissor happy,” Natasha said exasperatedly, jabbing her thumb in Y/n’s direction.
“She stole my barbie!” Y/n protested, folding her arms across her chest in a huff.
“No!” Isla burst out,” that’s mine!”
“Well I don’t care, I was playing with it!”
“Get your own!”
Above their heads, Natasha gave Yelena a look. This is what she had been dealing with since Wanda left and although she hated leaving her kids, the bickering was starting to wear her down. It was Yelena’s turn to handle it for once. She just hoped the house would still be standing when she got back.
“Girls, please,” Natasha sighed, standing up with the barbie in her hand. “Mama has to go in a minute, and I’m not having you acting up for Yelena.” She used her stern mom voice and Y/n paled, hating being told off. “Y/n, can you apologise to Isla please.”
“No.”
Natasha may have a soft spot for her youngest but the glare that crossed her features made the little girl’s eyes well up and she hung her head in shame. “Y/n…” Natasha warned, knowing what came next if she didn’t start behaving.
“Sorry,” Y/n mumbled, suddenly very interested in the sleeve of her pink sweater.
“Good,” Natasha stated, brushing off the dog hair from her sleek black suit trousers. “I want you two on your best behaviour, and Yelena will tell me everything that happens. If I find out that you’ve been disrespectful and naughty, I will tell Mama. Okay?”
The girls mumbled in chorus, with Isla still clinging on to Yelena and Y/n standing by herself. It was just a phase, Natasha had to keep reminding herself that, but it certainly felt as though it was going to last forever. She wasn’t the bad mom, but Y/n’s behaviour had been so bad lately that not a day went by where she wasn’t being told off. It hurt her to see her daughter so upset, but Natasha stood strong. It was her own kindred spirit that she saw in Y/n, and now she understood why she was such a difficult child sometimes.
“We’re going to have fun, right guys?” Yelena asked with extravagant enthusiasm, although the responses she got were far from it. “You can go and do your boring adult stuff whilst the cool kids do… cool kid stuff.”
Natasha anxiously glanced at her kids, a wave of doubt washing over her. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? I can cancel-”
“Natasha, go, I’ll be fine. They’re angels with me and I’ve got Fanny with me if it all goes wrong.”
The dog in question gave a small woof and Natasha eyed her warily, far more a cat person than a dog person. She wasn’t totally convinced, but motherhood had made her anxious so she straightened out her jacket and nodded, psyching herself up.
“I’ll be back by 5, 6 at the latest.”
“Have a good day Mama,” Y/n said quietly, trying desperately to get back on her good side. Having Wanda mad at her was bad enough, but having Natasha was the worst thing she could think of. And when her Mama crouched down and opened her arms, Y/n took her chance to get to the hug first, muttering another ‘sorry’ to try and make amends.
“Be good, girls. I’ll be home soon.”
‘Aunty Lena, does Mama hate me?” Y/n asked as the door closed. The blonde frowned and turned to her niece, her large green eyes piercing into the Russian’s soul.
“Of course not, little bug. But you have to start being nice to Isla, okay?”
“I know,” Y/n replied. “She just really makes me mad.”
“That’s what sisters do. Your mama and I used to fight all the time.”
Y/n’s eyes lit up. “You did?”
“It’s totally normal, little bug. When your mama had blue hair, I used to tease her about it all the time.”
Isla’s head perked up at that. “Mama had blue hair?”
“Has she never shown you pictures?” Yelena asked in disbelief. Both girls shook their heads and Yelena grinned. “I’ll make some hot chocolate and I can show you. Your grandma put all our photos as kids in an album.”
The twins cheered loudly and ran to the kitchen, laughing with each other. It was such a stark contrast to earlier that Yelena had to do a double take at what she was witnessing.
“I’m glad you’re not this much work,” she muttered to Fanny, who barked happily at the noise. Kids really were hard work.
~~~
“Lena, kick it!” Isla yelled across the garden, dancing around the goal whilst her aunt really took her time. She was doing it purely to mess with her niece, and it was working perfectly. With another yell, Isla sprinted out of the goal in an attempt to tackle, but Yelena took her chance and sent the ball flying into the goal with a thud.
“That’s not fair!” She cried, running over to retrieve it.
“Another point to Aunt Lena!” Y/n announced from her place at the side before launching into another back walkover. She’d only recently learned the skill at dance and was more than happy to do acro tricks whilst they played. As long as she kept score as promised.
“No! That doesn’t count,” Isla protested, one foot propped up on the ball. “She cheated.”
“I didn’t cheat, you just have no patience,” Yelena said sassily, propping a hand up on her hip. “You’re not going to make a very good goal keeper.”
“I hate soccer anyway,” Isla grumbled, kicking the ball as hard as she could in Yelena’s direction. “It sucks.”
“It’s only because you’re bad at it,” Y/n piped up, now sitting on the porch steps after exhausting herself from cartwheels.
“You’re worse!” Typical comeback but Yelena had had enough. With a roll of her eyes, she marched towards the goal, giving Isla a bump with her elbow as she walked past.
“New game, I’ll be in goal and you have to work together to score. Deal?”
Isla shook her head. “I’m not playing with her, she can’t even kick a ball!”
“I can too!” Y/n protested, sprinting up to her sister. “I’m better than you and I don’t even have lessons.”
“That’s so not true. You-”
“Guys!” Yelena shouted, her Russian accent thickly coating her words. “Do you ever stop this fighting? It’s so annoying!”
The twins went silent, an uncommon phenomenon. Y/n muttered something under her breath but Yelena didn’t have it in her to care anymore. Every time she babysat it made her more and more impressed at how Natasha did it. A true saint.
“New rules. You have to pass it to each other before trying to score. If you don’t, the point goes to me. Okay?”
“Fine!”
Surprisingly, very few fights broke out over the course of the game. Isla did most of the scoring after Y/n well and truly botched her tries. But in her defence, her legs weren’t made for kicking the shit out of a soccer ball.They were made for cartwheels, which Isla soon got fed up with.
After far too long outside, Yelena rounded them up and herded them back inside after teeth started chattering and Y/n’s soaked trouser legs from falling over were turning her lips slightly blue.
After a quick bath she sat them both on Isla’s bed and dug through her closet for some comfier clothes. After a few minutes she sat back on her knees, her mind racing.
“Do you guys match anymore?”
“Ew,” Isla said, her nose scrunching. “Never. All Y/n wears is pink, and I hate pink.”
“You also hate dresses too.”
Yelena was quiet for a moment, the cogs in her head turning. She turned around with a sheepish smile, almost shaking with excitement.
“I have an idea, but you need to cooperate… okay?”
~~~
Natasha sighed as she stepped out of her car, her breath forming a small cloud in front of her. It was far too cold for October and she rushed up the front steps to get inside. The building work was looking amazing and she knew Y/n was itching to get back to the studio just as much as she was (there was only so much kitchen ballet they could do).
It was eerily quiet as the front door opened, only her heels sounding on the wooden floor as she approached the kitchen. She wasn’t met with a pile of bodies throwing themselves at her, which was probably more strange than the silence. Had she trusted Yelena too much and her sister had kidnapped her children and ran off to Russia? Honestly it wasn’t such a surprising theory.
Empty kitchen… empty living room… this was weird. But the sound of giggles couldn’t be hidden and Natasha kicked off her heels at the bottom of the stairs and took the stairs two at a time, her trousers straining around her thigh muscles. Isla’s laugh was the most distinguishable and she pushed the door open slowly, trying not to startle anyone.
The wholesome sight of the three of them sitting on the floor surrounded by stuffed animals was enough to melt Natasha’s heart and she smiled softly, leaning on the doorframe waiting for someone to notice her. And strangely it wasn’t Y/n but Isla who jumped up first, almost stumbling over Fanny to get to her Mama with a shriek.
Natasha caught her daughter in her arms and pressed kisses all over her face, warmth flooding her body. She would never feel complete when she was away from her girls.
Y/n quickly joined in, wanting the same cuddles. Natasha crouched down and stroked their cheeks before pausing slightly, squinting. Something wasn’t right and Yelena’s overly wide grin didn’t help her suspicions either. She stroked Isla’s hair with a chuckle and straightened up, her back aching from bending down so much.
“Did you girls have a good day?” She asked, watching as Y/n settled back on the floor beside Fanny. “You both look happier than when I left.”
“We played soccer and beat Aunt Lena!” Y/n piped up. “I scored all the goals.”
“No, I helped too!”
Natasha didn’t miss the way Yelena nudged her nieces or how their eyes went as wide as saucers. But the redhead just chuckled and took a seat on Isla’s bed, her legs slightly aching from standing all day.
Isla stood in front of her, clearly torn with where to go. Natasha knew she wanted to sit on her knee but watched as she settled beside Yelena again. It was impressive, Natasha gave her that much. Very dedicated to the cause.
“You did? Well done baby. Have you behaved today?”
“They’ve been angels, sestra, as usual. It’s only you they are bad for.” Yelena had a shit eating grin and it took everything in Natasha not to launch a pillow at her head. But she could not condone aggression around her violent children anyway before Y/n got any more ideas.
“Is that right?”
“Mama you had blue hair!”
If looks could kill, Yelena would be well and truly dead. If there was one thing Natasha hated, it was pictures of her younger self. She made far too many questionable decisions and went through one too many boxes of hair dye, so seeing pictures was a no no. Not even Wanda had seen many. And now her daughters had seen the worst ones which she was never going to live down.
“Yelena Belova… what did you do.”
The blonde just shrugged and jumped up, causing Fanny to do the same. The queen of avoiding things. “Who wants Aunt Yelena’s special mac and cheese?”
The twins both cheered and raced out of the room after their aunt, leaving Natasha slightly bewildered in the blue and white room. There were times where Natasha convinced herself that Yelena wasn’t all that bad, and then she pulled stunts like this and put herself back on top of Natasha’s hit list. But that was never going to change.
“What else did you show my kids, Yelena?”
No reply. Typical.
Natasha truly was outnumbered when her sister was around. But then she remembered what was really going on and a small laugh escaped Natasha’s mouth. Adorable, really.
Y/n and Isla helped as much as they could to make dinner, including standing on a chair to stir the boiling noodles and dumping the cheese packets in when instructed. Natasha was banished to setting the table after Isla gave her a lecture about her inability to cook, clearly something else she’d picked up from Yelena. But Natasha yielded, setting the cutlery down with a shake of her head. The longer it went on for, the more she tried not to laugh. And the more slip ups she noticed.
Like how Isla wouldn’t stand on the chair because she was scared of heights, even though yesterday she climbed the largest tree in the backyard. And how Y/n stood still when waiting for her turn, when she’d usually be twirling around with her apron. Natasha could only watch as Yelena heavily emphasised their names and the twins burst into giggles whenever they answered her. It was adorable to see and she couldn’t wait to tell Wanda.
They ate in silence, which was usually the case when mac and cheese was involved. And the girls did very well, Natasha gave them that, until she pulled an admittedly evil move.
“How about cookies?” Yelena asked once plates were cleared and the table was wiped down.
“It sounds good to me,” Natasha agreed, grabbing the tin and sitting back at the table. “One each, you too Yelena. And Y/n, you know the rules. You got in trouble today so you don’t get a cookie.”
She slid the tin to Isla who happily reached in until a protest sounded from the girl next to her.
“That’s not fair! That’s my cookie!”
Isla had already shoved her cookie in her mouth at this point, the crumbs sticking to her cheeks and the front of her shirt. She grinned happily, thankful she agreed to Yelena’s scheming plot.
“Mama! That’s mine!”
Natasha shook her head. “No Y/n, those aren’t the rules, you know that.”
Isla smacked her palm against the tabletop. “I’m not Y/n! She is!” She pointed at her sister harshly, who was licking the crumbs from her fingertips. “We switched!”
“Isla!” Y/n whined, “You weren’t supposed to spoil it!”
“I’m not losing my cookie, give it to me!”
“No,” Y/n said with a grin. “Mama said you can’t have one, so you can’t.”
“I hate you!”
Natasha watched the scene unfold, with Yelena looking more and more concerned. The blonde turned to her sister for help, but was met with only a smirk and a raised eyebrow.
“Do something!” Yelena hissed, but Natasha shook her head.
“Absolutely not,” Natasha said, leaning back in her chair. “It’s your mess, you fix it.”
“Tell her Aunt Lena!” Isla cried, tears threatening to spill. “Tell her I’m Isla! I’m not Y/n.”
Whilst Isla was nearing a breakdown, Y/n’s mean streak thickened. “These cookies really are good.”
“Mama please!”
Natasha rounded the table and placed a kiss on Isla’s forehead before passing her the biggest cookie from the tin. “Here baby, you’re okay,” she soothed, gently wiping her tears. “But your Aunt is an idiot. I did know it was you all along Isl’s, I’m sorry baby.” She picked her daughter up and set her on her lap, holding her close as she ate her cookie.
Yelena’s mouth fell open. “You knew?”
“From the moment ‘Isla’ ran to me first.” Yelena hit the table, muttering ‘dammit’ under her breath. “A mother always know, Yel. Always.”
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