#nicky x rock

[onikaswardrobe]

Nicki wore Vetements x NewRock platform sneakers (sold out) with her ss24 Vetements ensemble [and Agent Provocateur corset] for the PF2 limited edition cover. 🩷

[hislittlesparklejumpropequeen]

I never blamed you for loving me the way you did.

Lestat De Lioncourt x reader

Summary; Lestat De Lioncourt had a wife once. And a beautiful life. Until he lost everything. Warnings; fail marriage, blood and injuries, vampire sex, character deaths, suicide, self-hatred, penis in vagina sex, creampie, sex as a coping mechanism, child loss, grief and mourning, ANGST, hurt no comfort, BISEXUAL Lestat de Lioncourt

Word count: 11,181

(Pre-canon)

Lestat had spent decades on this planet. He had known thousands of people, been to hundreds of cities, lain with both women and men. He had fallen in love, once upon a time. And he had known loneliness. He knew it even before he was turned into this vile creature. When he had to spend his days in his cold bed as a little human child. As his father and brothers torture toy, his mother’s suffocating burden, when had to spend days in Satan’s dungeon with the dead and the undead, waiting for his final day see his god for the first and last time. The nights he prayed to God to spare his life and how his prayers turned to pleadings for his death. He begged it to be quick and painless. He wanted his mother’s comfort that he never knew. He wanted to go back to church and attend the sunday service with the people of his small town. He wanted to hold cross one more time and feel the love of Christ in his bones.

He thought about God and Jesus and his mother when Magnus nearly ripped his neck open with his sharp fangs one night. He drank so much that Lestat thought he saw a bright light in the corner of his eye. He felt his soul slip away from his body and the lightness wash over him. It was a comfort that he never felt in his entire life before. Not when he used to lay beside that tree on the hill and exchange glances with the pretty looking shepherd boy as the warm breeze danced with his own blonde curls. Not when he fell asleep with that beautiful daughter of the baker by the river, naked, arms wrapped around one another, his head on her chest, listening to her heart beats.

He had tasted blood for the first time when Magnus pressed his bleeding wrist to his lips. Lestat started to drink. He had no idea why he was drinking. It was an instinctual command coming from his body, from his very existence. He felt life come back to him. But not his soul, it was gone. He felt his flesh harden like rocks and the colour drain away from his rosey cheeks of humanity. He felt Magnus’s blood flow trough his veins, fast and burning. He felt the warmth in his chest. His fingertips hurt with the sharp nails that grew in seconds. His eyes were sore and when he opened them again, the bright colours made him dizzy. He could hear everything and everyone. He could feel everything at once. He wanted to die. He wanted to beg Magnus to stop playing with him and let him die peacefully. And he was alone one more time when Magnus died in the flames, in front of his eyes. He smelled his burning rotten flesh. Dying like him disgusted Lestat.

Over time his yearning for God’s love turned into grudge. He wondered why God let him turn into this blood thirsty monster. Yes, that was what he was. A monster trough and trough. And no one would dare to love a monster like him. Even tho the monster would love anyone in the purest way possible if he was given chance.

And he did. Lestat loved Nicolas. As much as he could at least. Nicki was a troubled man since the first moment Lestat laid his eyes on him. He thought that being with him and having countless adventures could change him and plant seeds of happiness into soul. But it didn’t. He hesitated turning him into a vampire when Nicki was begging him to do so. He could sense the consequences of doing it. But spending centuries with the man he loved convinced Lestat. Nicki sinked into his dark thoughts more. His violin played with sadness and sorrow more than ever. Lestat felt his darkness in himself. He could not hear but see Nicki’s feelings in is empty looking eyes. He felt the guilt filling his heart as his first love was turning into someone he didn’t know. Armand’s presence wasn’t helping at all.

Lestat never thought about being loyal to his spouses when the world was full of fruits in different shapes and colours and tastes. There was so much to explore in his infinite life time. Armand was a capturing thing. With his eyes looking into his soul and reading him like an open book. Armand was offering so many things to Lestat that no one ever could. He yearned for the care and affection from Armand. He wanted to drink from him, lay with him and taught by him how to survive, live with the nature of a vampire. But being with Armand in front of the eyes of Nicki pushed the poor boy into madness more and more every passing day. Lestat was hungry but not for the destruction of the ones he loved.

He left Paris with his mother. He had left Nicki and Armand and the theatre. Only to receive the news of Nicki’s death. He fell onto his knees when they sent his violin to him. He touched the places where Nicki’s fingertips traced over. And he played it for the last time to feel his lover again. It didn’t matter if he was feeling Nicki’s love, rage or sadness. He only wanted a piece of him. His lips trembled when he played his favourite melody. The melody Nicki would play for Lestat after the moments they spent in each others arms, tasted one another and explore the corners of pleasure. He remembered that fearless little boy that he met with back in the day, when they were both humans. He remembered the shy glances of Nicki when he was looking at Lestat’s eyes, lips and every detail on his face. He remembered the moments they danced together and his mother would sing for them. He remembered their last happy moments. Tears of blood flowed down his cheeks and stained his white shirt.

He was alone again when his mother left him. He felt unlovable. Even his own mother couldn’t stand his presence. How could anyone in this world would love a man like him? By that time he had forgotten how it felt like being close to god and feel his love. He knew that God left him when he was turned into a seed of devil. He wanted to scream and shout and tell God that he never had a chance to choose. If he could he would choose God over everyone and everything without a second thought. Therefore Lestat knew believing in something higher and more powerful than you was a great comfort and happiness a man could ever have.

He traveled for years after his mother left him. He wondered around the countries, saw humans kill one another, cheat on one another, trick one another and destroy one another. He saw that it was not only him that was hungry for something he couldn’t name. Then his bright greyish blue eyes found the figure of a little human being in the crowd, dancing with a beautiful smile on her face. His eyes watched you for the whole dance. He heard your fast breaths, how they go trough your delicate nose and reach to your lungs that were still fresh and youthful compared to his rotten body. He saw the drops of sweat sliding trough your temple, your hair damp and the braid crown that was about to fall off. He heard your laugh, full of life and joy. He saw your skirts fly off as you tap your feet on the floor with your human strength. Your dance made him smile. His smile widened as you kept dancing and laughing. He felt like he never saw something or someone more alive. He felt a warmth in his chest. So different from the one felt when he first drank Magnus’s blood. It was type of warmth he felt when he was still human, when he had fears of a human and desires of a human.

He took you into his arms as you were still dancing. The dance floor was crowded as you felt his hands on you. You turned around and saw the most beautiful pair of eyes that you ever saw in your entire life. It felt natural to be in his arms, to be close to him and smiling at him. Lestat looked into your eyes as both of you danced trough the song. You didn’t want this song to ever finish. His body was pressed against yours and it felt like you were the only ones in the dance floor, in the world. He felt your gentle hands on his arms, going to his shoulders. It felt tingly and he realised how much he missed this human feeling. He laughed when you accidentally stepped on his feet and his laugh sounded more beautiful than thousand melodies that you ever heard. Which musician could ever write a song that sounded like his joy? Who could ever be the inspiration and make any musician to write it?

You watched his blonde long curls shine under the colourful lights. The thought of running your fingers trough his curls sent shivers down your spine. Lestat shook slightly when he heard your thoughts. You didn’t think about laying with him right away or take advantage of things that he might offer you. You only wanted to caress his hair. Something his mother never did. He closed his eyes and leaned down to your neck. The flavour of your blood filled his nostrils in seconds. He felt dizzy and wrapped his arms tighter around you. You felt his lips ghost over your skin and you had to hold onto him.

“Wait for me, ma cherie.” He whispered and you opened your eyes. Your arms were on the air, hugging no one. You felt coldness wash over your burning cheeks.

“Wait for me.” You heard his voice again. You turned around but he was no where to be seen. Your hands held your long skirts and put the strands of hair behind your ear. People around you kept dancing as you walked out of the dance floor with shaky legs.

Lestat watched you for the rest of the night from far afar. You didn’t dance again or laugh. You sat down, sipped on your drink, answered question when they were referring to you and looked for him with curious eyes. He felt sense of pride in his heart. Not because a mortal girl was mesmerised by him but because it was you that was mesmerised by him. You were not his prey of the night. He could fill that place with someone anytime, anyone could be his meal tonight. No, you were meant to be alive, and you were meant to be by his side.

For eight long weeks he watched your every step. He watched you wake up every morning, have breakfast with your family, attend your daily lessons, sew with your lady friends, read your books by your window and think about him. He could hear your sweet dreams about him, even when he was in his house. You were waking up everyday, hoping to see him somehow. You thought about telling your mother many times. Maybe she would’ve known about that otherworldly lord that attended the party in the gambling club. He watched you blush like a cherry in summer when one of your mother’s friends pointed out that you were zoning out and getting lost in your thoughts pretty often, just like a young lady in love would do. Your mother laughed it off as you kept your eyes on the floor and your thoughts on Lestat.

He watched you go home that day. Slip away from the heavy layers of your dress, undo your beautifully braided hair and lay on your back on the bed. Your room was lightened by the few candles on your desk and nighstand. He could hear your heart beating fast as you pictured his eyes again and again. Oh how beautiful he was. As if carved by God himself carefully within the image of an angel. You could feel that weird, tingly sensation in your stomach when you remembered his lips on your skin. Lestat smiled softly as you drifted into sleep thinking about him. And he was in your room. He walked to your desk first and looked over the poetry books you were reading, and the some poems you tried to write. A little poet i have hear, Lestat thought.

He walked to your bed. His hands traced over your neck to your chest and lastly to your stomach. His touch was so soft and light, he could feel you hardly. But he could feel your warmth so clearly. He could feel it even with just being in your room. He tried to remember the last time he felt the warmth of humanity in him. Nearly two centuries. He sat on your bed and looked at your sleeping figure. You looked so peaceful. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to sleep for night without all those memories haunting him? He listened to your heart beats for a moment and the way your eyes were moving slightly during your sleep. He leaned over you, to your neck. He inhaled deeply as his lips were close to your skin. For a moment he feared that his cold lips would wake you up but you didn’t open your yes. Your blood made his mouth watery. He was so hungry. For blood yes, but he was hungry for something more. Something that could make him feel alive after two centuries of being dead. Something that would make his heart beat faster with excitement again.

He wondered if God was looking down at two of you in that moment. If he was, would he let Lestat to defile one more of his human children? If yes, why? Wasn’t it both torture for Lestat and them? He had the blood of thousands on his hands. And there was no soap or water in this world that could wash it away from him. He was carrying all his victims within himself. They were in his veins, staining his fangs.

He laid his body on top of yours slowly, gently. His broad shoulders blocked your eyes and his legs trapped you between them. Your eyes opened wide with the pressure on your stomach. First you could only see darkness, then you felt a cold hand against your cheek.

“Don’t be afraid, mon cœur.” He whispered. Your fast breathing calmed in seconds. He looked down at your face and your gaze met with his own. You looked divine under the moonlight, under him. The way your eyes were still half open, in the grasp of sleep. And the way your cheeks were flushed with shyness and excitement. But not fear. His eyes found your lips lastly. Your lips that were slightly open, sucking in little breaths, looking all soft and warm. Lestat felt your hardened tetes peaking trough your nightgown, pressed against his tough chest.

You saw his bright blue eyes go darker with lust and his teeth grow into sharp fangs that only a wild animal would have. You felt his sharp nails digging into your skin and make you bleed. You both hissed as his fingertips got covered with your blood. He snarled just like an animal as the smell of fresh blood surrounded his very being. Your body trembled and you held onto his arms tightly

“Are you going to kill me?” You whispered. You did not feel horror, or rage or sorrow. You were only exited as he held you in his arms. Lestat smiled softly at your question. He pressed his nose against your cheek and inhaled your scent one more time. Your humanly, sweet smell made him dizzy. He felt an unfamiliar sensation down below his stomach.

“No, I will give you life. Better than the one you have.” He said and bite down your neck. First thing you felt was a sharp pain that made your neck go numb. You could not move, rather dare to move. It felt like if you moved, the pain would get worse. Lestat let his body go and laid on top of you fully, giving his whole weight. You opened your legs and welcomed his slender figure. And for the first time in decades, Lestat felt like he was home.

The wound that his fangs made on your neck started to burn when he licked and played with it with his tongue. The tears filled your eyes as Lestat laid his head on your neck. He kept drinking from you, slowly, taking little sips with the tip of his tongue, still breathing in your scent. His arms were wrapped around you and you could feel him all over you. He felt himself harden against your hips. He had to do it. He had to put an end to his loneliness.

He slashed his wrist with his nails, deep enough for him to bleed. Then he pressed his wrist against your lips. Your slowly closing eyes opened up at once as the strange taste of blood hit your tongue. Lestat shifted his position to open up the breaches of his trousers. He watched you drink him up hungrily as he lifted your skirt up to your waits. You felt his cold fingertips tracing over your bare stomach and thighs. His blood tasted sweet. Sweeter than the liquors you tasted in the balls, sweeter than the sherbets in the centre of the candies you ate, sweeter than the tropical fruits that your father bought very rarely.

You felt your whole body burn in need, in lust. You felt the buzzing sensation in your brain and your ears ringed. You pushed his hand away and pressed your lips against his own. You had to have him. It was a primal instinct that made you think so. Lestat held your back and positioned himself against your leaking entrance. Your warm walls welcomed him. You were sweet, warm and wet. In that moment it felt like it was all he ever needed. You tasted each other’s blood on your lips as his tongue explored your mouth. The he pushed you back and pressed his wrist back onto your lips. He wanted you to drink, cure your thirst and hunger with him.

He thrusted into you hard and deep as you kept drinking and drinking. He had to tend to you, he had to care for his fledgling. You were his. From head to toe, you belonged to him. Magnus had never claimed him as his own. His mother had no maternal instinct for him. He belonged to no one in this entire world. Nicki was in his own little world despite the love Lestat gave him. And Armand would never belong to anyone. Oh but you, you were perfect for him. Your walls tightened and it drove him over the edge. He ripped his arm away from you and held your face. You whined in need for his blood. His length went deeper and deeper into you as your shaky breaths hit his face.

He heard your heart sync with his own as he looked into your eyes. Your face was covered in blood as you moaned in pleasure. Lestat wanted to get lost in you. He wanted to be buried in you. He spent himself in you with one last thrust and felt your walls tighten more than before as you choked on your breaths and held him tight against you. He looked down at you and saw your thighs and his pubes sticky with blood. I had claimed her in every way possible, he thought.

He let you lay back down as he laid himself on top of you. You tried to catch your breath and he laid his head on your chest, between your breasts. Lestat kissed your skin, his lips left marks of blood on you. Then he felt your hands in his hair. Your fingers played with his lose curls that was ruined when he lost himself in pleasure. He felt your fingertips caressing his forehead and temple, gently, softly. You were still gentle with him even after what he did to you. His shoulders relaxed under your touch and he let out a shaky breath. What was he going to do now? He should’ve ask you before turning you and prisoning you into darkness. How he was different from Magnus when he just grabbed you like a piece of meet and drank your essence of life just to replace it with his rotten, blood of death?

“My family will think I coupled with the devil.” You whispered as you kept caressing his hair. Lestat’s breath hitched in his troath. He looked up to you under his lashes. He looked like a scared little boy in this light. A little boy that feared the monsters under his bed, scared of his father’s rage, scared of life and death. The tears of blood filled his eyes as he looked into your eyes. He saw the bright colour of your irises that matched your new nature. He nodded as he agreed with your statement.

“You have.” He said quietly as he avoided your eyes. He heard your small chuckle, felt his arm move as your chest rised up. You were still so calm. Maybe you were in shock after what he did to you. Poor girl, Lestat thought. I have driven one more innocent into madness.

“How come devil is so pretty then?” You asked as your fingertips trailed around his eyebrows. He stopped frowning with your touch. Then your touch continued to his eyes. Then to his nose. You caressed his straight bone. Finally your fingertips reached to his lips. Your hand brought grace to his well shaped lips. He planted a small kiss to your fingers.

“I never knew devil would look so perfect.” You whispered. As if even you couldn’t believe what you were saying. But Lestat heard you. He heard you so well that he received your compliment as a sharp pain into his heart. Growing up he had always heard that he was a pretty boy. Many of his lovers had said so even after his humanity was ravaged. But he couldn’t see anything but a monster when he looked at himself in the mirror. He had a attraction for violence. He couldn’t feel fulfilled if he didn’t kill. And he couldn’t satisfy himself if he didn’t hurt.

“You don’t know what I am. How can you say I am perfect after what I’ve done to you?” He asked his his tears started to spill from his eyes. You caught them before they could flow down his cheeks. Your small, soft smile remained on your lips. Lestat thought that he never seen someone so beautiful. He was surrounded by your smell, your beauty and compassion. He was covered in your blood and you were carrying his blood. He felt himself warm next to you. Centuries of coldness in his chest was replaced with your smile. He could feel your body calling for him, desperate for his touch and taste. There was a soreness in his troath. He wanted to scream it out.

“You have bewitched me.” You said, almost like a confession. His sharp gaze found your eyes immediately. Lestat’s tears kept spilling from his eyes as he laid his head on your chest again. He stayed in your arms who knows for how long. How could he let you go know? When you were calling him perfect, even after seeing his blood thirsty animalistic side, touching him with love and passion, carrying a piece of him in you, opening your arms for him without a question and accepting him as he is?

The next time Lestat knew loneliness was the hardest time.

You were a great companion, lover and a wife for him after the night he had you in your room, in your bed of youth and innocence. You were a brave little thing that was ready to face an army for him. He felt like the luckiest man alive when your laughs echoed trough the walls of your home. After decades he was finally living, sleeping in a house that he called home. He tried to taught you french but you were impatient and often ran away from his grasp to play his favourite melodies on the piano. He couldn’t get mad at you and watched you for hours as you played, looking at him for the whole time with a big grin on your face. He bought you the finest dresses in your favourite colours, had beautiful jewellery made for you. He loved making you happy more than everything in the whole world.

You were getting into an excited hurry every time you two decide to host a party in your home. People of your city were adoring both of you as a couple. You were so cheerful that there was no room people didn’t smile and the place didn’t lighten up as you entered. Men and women considered themselves lucky if you danced with them. But Lestat knew your first and last dance always belonged to him. Your heart and soul belonged to him. He didn’t know how many nights he pressed his forehead against yours, smiled like a teenage boy in the bliss of love and lifted you into air as your skirts flied behind you and your laughs filled ears of fortunate mortals. His heart was syncing with someone that loved him deeply. And he was so full of love, that he couldn’t remember the times he had lost himself in darkness.

He would have children with you if he could. If he was still a human. He would love to raise a boy that looked like you and a girl that looked like him. He had imagined the picture many nights as he closed his eyes in his coffin, his arms wrapped tight around you. He could see them running around the house, laughing beautifully like you. He could see them growing up and having their own lives as he grew old with you. I was so close to have a life, he thought after every single time he dreamt. The thought brought him sorrow. But he had you. It was more than enough for him.

Lestat met with your family when you two decided to get married. Your parents loved him. They called him a great gentleman with knowledge and culture. A husband fit for my daughter’s hand, your father said. But as the years went by and you still didnt have children or added wrinkle over there and there, your family sank nto silence. The letters became lesser and lesser. By the last letter, it was a dry piece of paper with few words written on it. No feelings, no longing or great love of your mother. You two attended the funeral of your father as he passed away after 15 years of your marriage to Lestat. Your mother’s eyes filled with tears and hatred as you watched your father getting buried. Lestat held you as you fought so hard to keep your tears back from spilling. You could see everyone’s eyes on you, examining you with fear planted in their heart, convinced that you are no longer the girl they knew. You tried to approach your mother and got blocked by cousins and other relatives.

“Tell that devil to leave my poor girl's body and find someone else to be the servant of satan.” You mother’s harsh voice made you step back. And Lestat could hear your heart shatter into pieces. He knew her words were referring to him. How many times I will hear the same thing, phrased differently? He thought. After the funeral you refused to leave your bed chambers for days. You didn’t eat even if Lestat hunted for you. You refused to sleep either. As the sun rose from the east and Lestat closed his coffin, he could hear your muffled cries in your own coffin. You couldn’t get yourself to sleep with him. You couldn’t get yourself to face to world. Your mind kept drifting back to the times you were with your family and how much they loved you. Lestat never wished something as much he wished to hear your thoughts and take your pain away. If he could, he would take all it of to himself. He was used to be in pain since he knew himself. But seeing his sunshine fade away was like tying his hands and feet and abandon him to starve to death.

After days, you left your coffin for the first time. Lestat’s bright eyes scanned your body head to toe. All he could see was a hungry vampire that was broken. Your under eyes were purple and your skin was paler than usual. The veins under your skin was showing trough. You could barely walk and talk as he held you in his arms and carried to the living room. Your hands fell to your thighs and he fell to his knees in front of you. His eyes were filled with concern and fear.

“Ma cherie, you need to eat something.” He said as he tried to make eye contact with you desperately. But your eyes were avoiding him by all cost. Your lips parted and some whispers left your mouth. Lestat leaned closer to hear you.

“It’s you.” He heard you say. He frowned and his mouth opened but nothing came out.

“I don’t understand.” He said quietly after a moment. You looked like a mess in front of him. And he wanted nothing more than pulling you back into his arms and never let you go.

“You never did.” You said as you finally made eye contact with him. “You are the reason of my current state.”

Lestat felt your words form into a dagger and stab him on his heart. His stomach dropped and he fought the urge to get away from you. He wanted to step away and take one more step away and one more… Your eyes were looking at him differently. There was a feeling he never felt from you before. Hate.

“You made me what I am and you ruined me.” Your voice sharp and your eyes full of bitterness. You collected all your strength to get up but it was not enough to keep you standing. Lestat held you gently before you could fall. Then he felt your sharp nails scratch him and rip his hands away from you.

“Don’t ever touch me.” You hissed and crawled away on the big sofa. Lestat’s eyes could not leave the empty space that you used to sit. He could hear your heart beating fast and he could almost taste the poison in your words you spoke out and you were going to speak out.

“You put me in a prison that I will never be able to leave. No matter what I do.” You said. Lestat looked over you and saw the tears of blood flow down your cheeks. Your fragile figure broke his heart repeatedly. He came in front of you on his knees and tried to hold your hand but you pulled away again. He sighed and did his best to hold his tears back.

“It will get better. In time everything will feel less weird and more normal. You will embrace what you are.” Your eyebrows lifted and a cold smirk appeared on your lips.

“And what is that? A murderer? A sinner? A cursed woman?” Your voice raised with each word and Lestat moved away. He turned around to avoid your eyes and words. His left hand found the corner of the window to lean down and his right hand covered his mouth. Muffled cries left his lungs as he shut his eyes tight.

“You will carry this feeling for the rest of your life.” You said and your presence left the house in seconds. Lestat did not move from his spot as he felt you going away from him. Your heart beats faded away in the night until he couldn’t hear you anymore. Me and you both, he wanted to say.

8 years.

He didn’t see you for 8 years after that night. He knew you were out of the city, far away from him. He called for you every night for a year at first. He screamed your name in darkness, hoping desperately that maybe you would hear and answer him. But you didn’t. Once his voice became hoarse, he wrote letters to your family. But got nothing back. Was it still possible for them to take you back after everything? Your mother couldn’t look at you and your siblings had nothing but fear and disgust in their eyes when they glanced at your direction. You were truly all alone in the entire world. You had no one but the person who trapped you into loneliness.

Lestat wandered around the city for days, searching for your scent, your gentle figure. You were no where to be found. He stopped going out after some time and trapped himself into his house. His coffin was full of pictures he could find of you. For nights he stared at your smiling face, frozen in those moments of happiness and joy. He missed your smile. He craved for you in every way possible. The house felt like a grave and his good old friend, the coldness was back. The memories of his youth started to haunt him one by one as he laid in his coffin during daytime. He could not find sleep when your side of the coffin was all empty.

He thought about his life before and after Magnus. He wondered if he would have a good life still if he wasn’t turned into a vampire. The thought of not meeting with you sent a gut-wrenching pain to his stomach. You’d be centuries apart, in different lives and countries. The picture of you marrying a decent man that your family found for you, wear a wedding dress for him, have his children, raise kids that looked like you and some man, have fights and love making nights with him, grow old with him and hold his hand while you greeted by the merciful arms of death made him tear up. He felt his heart pound painfully fast in his chest. A sob ripped from his throat and this time he didn’t cover his mouth. The guilt ate him from inside out. The honeymoon was over and now, he had the face the fact that he stole your whole life, your one chance of being alive, only for him to take your love for himself, selfishly and hungrily.

As the days turned into weeks and weeks urned into months, Lestat started to lose his hopes of seeing you again. Once again he was assured that no one could love a man like him. He didn’t want to stay in the house that use to be the home to two of you. Every corner was you and he couldn’t finish a day without thinking of the times you had spent together. But the small chance of you coming back made him stay. If you wanted to come back, you would love to see everything same and your husband waiting for you, Lestat told himself in the moments of doubt.

And one day you opened that door and came back. He was in the music room when he heard your heart beats. He felt like the time had frozen and his heart skipped a beat. His fingers on the piano stopped, his lips twitched with longing and tears formed in his eyes. When he saw you again, standing in front of him, beautiful as always, he wanted to get on his knees in front of you and beg you to forgive him for what he did to you. Then his eyes found the little body of the human boy in your arms. The child was maximum 4 and he was shaking uncontrollable. His blonde hair was dump on his forehead and weak breaths mixed with moans were leaving his mouth. Lestat didn’t need to be doctor to know that the boy was in great pain. And perhaps fear.

“He is going to die.” You said and hearing your voice after years made Lestat break down. He had to turn around at the doorway to hide his tears.

“Help me. Please.” Cracked noise from your sore throat was heard in the room. The boy was clinging to your dress, like a little lamb. You walked towards your husband as you held the little child tighter.

“Please save him. For me?” Lestat didn’t know if he was feeling grateful that you were back, guilty for his mistake or angry because you only showed up when you needed something from him. He looked at the boy. He was cute little thing with blue eyes like ocean and long blonde lashes that framed his doe eyes. He saw his clear tears run down his face as he coughed. An innocent, Lestat thought. An innocent dying in the arms of the woman I love.

“You can turn him. I don’t know how to. But you do. Please Lestat.” He saw your tears dripping down to the boy’s hands on your dress. The pain in your voice twisted his stomach. You sounded helpless and he whished nothing more than take this feeling away from you.

He shook his head no.

“I can’t.” He spoke. The dryness in his voice made more tears fall down your eyes. You held the boy closer to your heart. His head rested on your heart as you caressed his blonde curls. The curls that reminded you so much of Lestat.

“Yes, you can. Do it for me, please!” You were ready to beg if you needed to. There was nothing more you wanted than saving his little life. He had to live. He had to survive this filthy world and show everyone that he was strong. And maybe you would have a chance of being a mother.

“Children cannot be turned.” Lestat said as he reached out to hold you but you took a step back. You were shaking your head endlessly as tears kept flowing down your cheeks.

“Great laws forbid it. Otherwise a vampire child would live in misery.” He remembered Marius’s voice as he spoke these words to him before he sent him away. Someone under 17 cannot be given the dark gift.

“Laws? Are you serious? He will die if you don’t save him!” Your scream echoed through the walls and found his ears and heart. Your anger and sorrow shook him slightly. He knew he was walking on thin ice in this very moment. You could turn around and leave him again. And never come back this time. Who knows maybe you would find another vampire out there that could be your companion? Or turn this little boy for you to only make you happy? The thought hardened his blood and tightened his chest.

“My love, he won’t be saved if I turn him. He will live his life in desperation. For something more. Something he will never have.” He said gently as he wiped his tears away. He had to be strong. For both of you. His eyes found the boy again. He was so thin. Lestat wanted to put an end to his suffering. The boy’s eyes opened slightly and he looked at you. His fingers were shut tight over the fabric of your dress. Lestat could feel your love and care for him. You felt like you had to protect him. The boy’s big eyes found him. He looked at him with softness and hope. His eyes are full of life even when his life slips away from his body, just like hers were once upon a time, Lestat thought.

“We can be a family Lestat. He can be our son.” You said quietly. As if you feared that the world would take him away from you if they heard your words. “He looks just like you.”

Lestat didn’t look away from the boy. Yes, he did look like him. His blonde curls were just over his shoulders and his nose was small like Lestat’s nose when he was little. His mother loves him, unlike mine, he told himself.

“You and I and him. We can be happy together. We can try again.” The desperation in your voice broke his heart. You were willing to go back to him. To where you belong. Lestat wanted you back in the house, in his arms, in his coffin. He wanted you on his lips, on his skin. He wanted your fangs back in his neck and your heart on his. He wanted to be the one made you smile again and he wanted to be your dance partner in your extravagant parties. He wanted the boy to watch two of you as you danced and clap for his parents. He wanted to take him into his arms and feel a father’s strength in his bones. He wanted the pure and unconditional love of a son. The one he used to have for his father, way before he became his father’s unexplainable enemy. He wanted to see the boy become a man and be his pride.

“We are killers. A child has no place among the demons.” His words cut sharp as the boy started to cough again. The blood covered his lips as you tried to calm him down. Your own tears were spilling uncontrollably and sobs were coming between your lips. Lestat heard your irregular heartbeats.

“He cannot die.” You said between your sobs and cries as the boy kept coughing his blood out. You fell to your knees and kept his little head on your heart. His small, fragile hands were holding your hand tight. The fear in his eyes were piercing trough Lestat chest. He knelt beside you, held your back to his chest as you rocked back and forth. Both of you stopped breathing as the boy’s heartbeats started to slow down. His breaths calmed down and he closed his eyes. He clinged to your cold skin and did not let your hand go. With his last breath your head dropped back to Lestat’s shoulder. His arms were wrapped tight around both you and the boy. His long fingers intertwined with your and the boy’s hand. His decreasing temperature was slowly matching the coldness of both vampires.

“My son…” he hard your whisper. Your eyes were focused on the ceiling. Lestat buried his face in your neck when your cries filled the room. If only I could take all your pain away, he wanted to say but words did not leave his mouth. He could take your pain away, if only he made you a mother and gave you another family.

Lestat carried you to the coffin when you were exhausted from crying. He took the boy’s lifeless body and burnt it while you slept. He stayed until he was nothing but ash. He looked at the scene as the flames took him away and listened as his bones cracked and his flesh melted down. He didn’t let himself cry. It was his vilest murder. He had no right to feel guilt or shame.

He laid beside you in the coffin. You were whispering and crying still, even in your sleep. His fingers traced over your hands gently. He looked at your sleeping form and took a deep breath. Your scent filled his lungs once again after many years. His insides blossomed and he felt the life come back to his body. You were his home. It didn’t matter to him which form you were in or how you looked like. It didn’t matter if you were laughing or in sorrow. As long as you were beside him, he was happy to have you in any way. And you were back. Lestat knew he could not let you go again. Not after this night. Not when you needed him the most. He was the only one you had left with and he had no intention of leaving you alone. He was going to make you happy again. Just two of you were enough.

“You came into my life when I needed you the most. Now it is my turn to bring you joy.” He whispered to your ear and wrapped his arm around your waist. Your eyes opened as he closed his own. Your gaze traveled trough his beautiful features. He was beautiful as the first day you saw him. Years ago, in that party, where you were still innocent and human. Now I know that devil can be this pretty, you thought.

Lestat was in the corner of your mind for 8 years. You were carrying him in you wherever you traveled to. His face was carved onto your eyelids and you were too afraid to close your eyes. His voice kept echoing in your head when you killed, drank or spared a life. You played his favourite songs on the piano when you needed him by your side. But no matter how much you missed him, you couldn’t forgive him. You knew Lestat De Lioncourt loved you. You felt it in your bones, in your flesh. You carried his love in your veins. But you knew he cursed you forever. And you weren’t naive like you used to be to forgive and forget what he did to you. You were young and in love. How could you know it meant to lose your everything when you gave yourself to him that night?

You could not deny the fact that you were happy at first. Lestat gave you things no one ever did. He respected you, he loved you gently and made you feel like the only woman in the world. And you loved him. There was something in Lestat that pulled you to him. You were like opposite sides of a magnet. It felt right to touch and kiss him. Your heart craved for his heart just like your body craved for him. When he was deep in you, made you scream his name and planted soft kisses to your face, life was good. Until you started to see question marks on people’s faces. You were in peace with your fate and the things came with your new life. But everything seemed meaningless once it cost you your family. Lestat’s arms failed to comfort you when you were invited to your own father’s funeral at the last minute and saw that no one wanted you there. Not even your own mother.

You were motherless and fatherless. You were a demon who could only see the world under the dark sky. You could only stay alive if you killed humans. And seeing Lestat every single moment of your life vexed you. At the time you needed someone to blame other than yourself. You were already aware of your mistakes. And knowing that Lestat still turned you despite the fact that he knew what kind of a curse he was bringing on you, made his existence unbearable. You had to leave. You had to be alone with yourself after decades of marriage. Still, no matter where you went, Lestat was the only thing your heart ever wanted. You would always love him.

Then you found him. Leonardo. That was his name, you tried to remember. He was the son of a homeless woman that lived on the street of your small home. It was nighttime when you heard his cries. You saw his dead mother and him crying his eyes out over her body. You felt your heart shatter into pieces with the sight in front of you. He was so small and so scared. When his blue eyes found you and you could see his face clearly, you knew that you could not leave him to die. His arms reached out to you when you knelt beside him. He didn’t know why his mother wasn’t waking up and taking him into her arms. He was shaking and coughing between his sobs full of fear.

“Mummy.” He cried as you caressed his blonde curls to calm him down. He was cold and hungry and sick. I want to help you. I need to hold you, you thought as he snuggled to your chest. There was only one person who could help you. But could you go back to him? After everything that happened between you? Could you find that strength in yourself or would he take you back?

“Mummy!” Leonardo screeched in your lap in pain as his coughs got harder. His little hands were trying to hold your arms. You had to do it. Both for yourself and him. So that was now you found yourself in front of the door of your home.

You reached to hold his cheek. His breath quickened with your touch but his eyes kept shut. You were pressed against him. Your lips were nearly touching and you could feel his breaths all over your face. Your fingertips traced over his face to his neck and to his chest. His body shook. The soft touch made you both shiver when your hand slipped under his expensive shirt. It has been years since you last touched one another and you realised how much you missed him. You needed to touch him. When you pressed your lips against his, Lestat’s arms wrapped tighter around you. His kisses and biting continued to your neck and to your chest. The soft lips of your lover were sending you into oblivion. You had to be closer to him. Closer than being skin to skin, something more, something more painful, something full of love and the suffering that comes with it. Something that would destroy that pit in your stomach and be worth of all your sorrow.

“I love you. I live you. I-“ Lestat’s raggedy voice stopped as he kept kissing you hungrily. His words weren’t able to keep up with his desire. Your mind was foggy as he undressed himself first, then you. Tears were flowing down your cheeks and you were feeling his cold fingers spread the wetness between your legs. His fingertip caressed your leaking opening and moans left your mouth. You could barely see because of tears when you held his face and made him look at you. He was crying too. You kissed him. His tears and yours mixed up and found your pressed lips. The taste of blood was exquisite, vibrating, destructive.

The next thing you knew was you were on top of him, the lid of the coffin was wide opened, he was inside you, fully. You rode him to the bottom of the coffin, hard and deep as his impressive size stretched you out immensely. Your eyes rolled back when his hands groped your breasts. He was talking but you couldn’t hear him. Your ears were ringing and the pain was too great. Your moves became faster and harsher. Your sharp nails digged into his chest and scratched him all over.

“You’re crying.” Finally you heard him and opened your eyes again. It was a mess in his coffin. His chest, between your legs, his face, your body, you were both covered in blood. Yet Lestat managed to smile when he saw the unsettled look on your face. He held your waits tight and moved you back on forth gently on him. He kept caressing your body and say sweet nothings as he controlled your movements.

All the memories of your shared life passed before your eyes as you went closer to the edge. Your legs shook when Lestat’s thumb found your pearl and circled it skilfully. There was a soreness in your throat and your climax was building in your lower belly. The image of two of you filled your mind over and over again. The image of you happy. Would you be able to be like that again? You didn’t know. And learning the answer of this question scared you to death.

“I can’t.” You cried out when your orgasm hit you hard. Your body froze as Lestat kept his hands on you and reached to his climax. His dead seed spilled into you. Deep into your dead womb that was never going to be a home to a babe. Was Lestat enough for you to be fulfilled? Were you going to be enough for him when he got bored of searching for things that made him feel human, made him feel young again?

When you made eye contact again, you could see fear and doubt in his eyes. He was scared that you were going to leave him, just like everyone he ever loved. And he was not sure if it was still you in your body. He was looking for you in the eyes he saw for thousands of times and more. Yet nothing about your eyes felt familiar. Your body felt like you, your kisses felt like you, your heart felt like you. But it was almost like a death itself looking down at him in this moment. He left out a deep breath when you leaned down and laid on his chest.

His heartbeats were fast under your cheek. You turned a little and pressed a tender kiss to his chest. And another. And another. You kissed him until new tears stained your face. You hoped that you could find him again one day. You hoped that you were both humans when you meet again. You hoped that you had a life in another world, with the love of your life. You knew Lestat would find you no matter what. He would love you the same if not more. He would be yours in every lifetime until you had no more love to give.

“I’ll love you forever. Now and always. Until my last day and after.” You whispered but your quiet words reached to Lestat’s ears. He smiled sadly, his tears spilled down to his paper white pillow. He tried to speak but his voice shattered.

“And I you.” He could only say without sobbing. He shut his eyes tight when he heard you fall asleep on him. Tomorrow was going to be better. Everything was going to alright. He had you in his arms. And he needed nothing more.

—

When Lestat opened his eyes again, the first thing he felt was pain. His eyes were watering and he couldn’t even press his lips together to cover up his moans. He licked his dry, chapped lips with the last strength before he was breathless again. In the darkness of his coffin, his shiny eyes looked around desperately. He could feel the air hitting his burned body and make his wounds boil. He cried out your name. You were not in his arms. Where could you possibly be? Were you harmed too? What if you were harmed worse than him? You were younger and weaker than your maker. Lestat had to put himself together and find you, his dear fledgling. When he pushed opened his coffin lid, he saw the the wide open curtains that were usually closed. It was dark outside. The moon light was the only thing that was bright in the pitch black room.

It was only then he saw his burned body. Front of his arms, his whole chest, his thighs and his face were all covered in ashy wounds that were slowly healing. His blood red flesh was showing trough the burned skin pieces. They sizzled as the new skin was forming over them. But before he could think about his wounds, he had to find you. Why the curtains were open? They were always supposed to be shut. Just in case if any of you had to wake up when sun was still up during the day. He dragged his feet to the short, wide corridor of the second floor. All the doors and the windows were open, he frowned in confusion. His head was banging quiet like a bomb explosion. His body was aching and he was afraid. He was afraid just like the night Magnus took him from his room.

He walked fast as he could and entered the music room. You were no where to be seen. Lestat’s nose scrunched when he breathed in the strange smell in the room. He felt the smell stick onto his lungs and enter every bit of him. It was haunting and indescribable. It almost felt like he could taste it on his tongue. That strange, unpleasant, obnoxious flavour was so familiar on Lestat’s throat, yet he could find no name for it. He took few steps to his piano. His favourite tunes ringed in his ears. He could see your ghost of a fingers on the keyboard, playing all gracefully.

When he looked down, a pile of grey, powdery substance caught his attention. How could he possibly not see this when he entered the room? He got on his knees and the source of smell was undeniably found. As he touched the powder, he felt his whole body shake in horror. His eyes closed tight when the faded memory of you getting up from the coffin came back.

“I love you. I love you. I love…” the words were repeated over and over again. Not thousands but maybe hundreds and thousands of times. He could hear you. You were not in the coffin. He could hear your steps in the room. Then he could hear your steps in the corridor. You were going in and out of rooms. Lestat could hear you mumbling things under your breath. He could hear your heartbeats and your rushed moves.

He wanted to open the lid of his coffin and get out. It was probably near sunrise and you had to go back to sleeping. When he pushed the lid, something blocked his exit. He tried to kick it and punch it when he heard you play the piano and keep talking.

“I want to see the sun rise in the sky again.” You said. “I want to see the clouds on the blue ocean of time.”

He called for you but you were not listening to him. As you played the melody from start to end, the fear in Lestat’s heart grew stronger. And when your fingers stopped, he felt a sharp pain all over his body. It was something he had never felt before. The greatest pain he felt was when he was transformed. He could never forget what it felt like for the next thousand years. But this, this was different. It was coming from somewhere deep. He wanted to rip his stomach open and find the core of the pain. His coffin got filled with his dreadful scream and he heard you shout in agony. He felt the pain in every inch of his body. With one last hard kick, he opened the lid successfully. Only to be greeted by bright, warm sunlight that was glowing beautifully in your shared chambers.

His skin started to burn immediately, and it was then Lestat knew what was happening. His jaw clenched and his tears burned his wounds when he heard your screams from the other side of the house.

“What have you done?!” He shouted but you didn’t respond. The sunlight was nothing compared the pain he was in as you kept burning. He could feel his blood boil in veins as yours dried up under the daylight. You were leaving him.

‘I have loved you, with everything I had in me.’ Lestat didn’t know if you spoke aloud or he just imagined, rather wished you have said it. Maybe it wasn’t too late, Lestat tried to get up but his body was damaged enormously. He could feel the sunlight penetrate into his bones with every second he was spending in front of the open curtains. But he had to save you! He cried and tried to get up again. And again and again. Until he couldn’t hear your screams anymore.

The house fell into a dead silence in seconds. Only thing that could be heard was the silent sizzling of Lestat’s burns. He stoped breathing and he stoped trying to get up. His lifeless eyes fell onto his hands. He laid back in his coffin and pulled the lid back on with a stinging move.

It was a nightmare. An unbelievably bad nightmare. Maybe the worst one he had have been for decades. You were sleeping in your own coffin peacefully. Lestat was going to see you when sun came down and he was going to kiss your lips with a smile on his face. He was going to carry you around the house like a princess and read your favourite poems just for you. You were going to forgive. And maybe in time, you were going to forget. He was going to change and try to be someone better than who he was now. Both of you were going to be happy again, together. He smiled with excitement with the thoughts on his mind. The smell of burned flesh tickled his nose.

—

“You do not know this girl!” Lestat said aggressively as he watched Louis lay the little girl on the bed carefully. Louis’s bright green eyes were full of fear and guilt when he faced Lestat again.

“Make her like us!” He said with a bitter hope in his voice. Lestat pressed his lips together when he heard him utter those words. This cannot be happening, he assured himself hopelessly.

“Non c’est impossible. Elle est trop jeune!” Lestat said in frustration as Louis walked closer to him with hurry. Lestat's heart was pounding fast in his chest. The images of a distant memory was blurring his vision. The same eyes from decades ago were looking at him again. The same eyes that were full of guilt, sorrow and hope with an innocent child at the edge of death in the arms of the person he loved. His chest tightened when Louis kept talking, pleading to save the little girl’s life. What could Lestat do? Was he curse to live same life over and over again for the rest of the eternity?

He could never forget you. He didn’t know how long he mourned you. Days, months, years? Maybe he was still mourning you with the little box in his closet that was filled with your ashes. It took him years to find the courage to try again. And when he kissed Louis for the first time, he felt like finding light in his murky world. But guilt ate him inside out. He wondered if you would be wounded when you learned that he was capable of loving again. He tried to reassure himself that the thing he had with Louis was different than what he had with you. You would always be his wife. Your wedding ring on a necklace that was around his neck was the proof of it.

“Please I can’t have her die!” The pain in Louis’s voice broke his heart. He remembered this feeling so well that it almost hit him on the face. He remembered how it felt like to be helpless when his lover was begging him to change things, set things right and how he couldn’t do it.

“The gift cannot be given to children.” He said when his anger and fear filled him to his limit. The look on Louis��s face twisted something in his stomach.

“What do you mean? Yes it can.” Louis said breathlessly as he tried to find his strength back. All he needed was to save this girl’s precious life. She laid on the bed, unconscious, coughing out the flames silently and she was all he needed in that moment.

“The great laws forbid it!” Lestat spited out as if he had poison on his tongue. Anger appeared on Louis’s face and Lestat regretted what he just said.

“The great laws?” Louis said mockingly. He sounded bitter and every octave of his voice cut both men deeply. “She gonna die in front of us!”

The next thing Lestat knew was that Louis dragged the little girl on the flour, cried, begged, cried, fell on his knees in front of his companion and cried. Louis’s usually gentle hands found Lestat’s body, he held onto him like he was the last thing on the world.

“Please, please.” It was all Lestat could hear. And the little girl’s raggedy breaths that were becoming slower and slower.

“My beautiful little daughter.” Lestat could not swallow, could not hold his tears back or his heartbeats stable when he heard Louis’s voice shatter as he said the words. He hated how his story repeated itself. He hated how he was always the one who had to make this decision.

“Please I’ll be anything.” Louis begged and cried. Lestat wanted to curl into a ball and never wake up again. He looked down at this companion, his lover, the man who saved him, begging him to make him a father.

“Please, please, please…” It was all Louis was saying when Lestat remembered your screams after your little boy died. He remembered how yours eyes looked dead inside and even your smiles were full of grief. He remembered how you begged him and he didn’t listen to you. And then how he lost you. He was a fool to think that you were going to be alright after your son died. He was a fool to think you were going to forgive him and be happy again. And he was a fool to think that you were going to stay with him after what he did to you.

There was a no day passed after your death that he didn’t regret not turning that boy. Great laws forbid it! At what cost he had followed the laws when he was on the other side of the world, oceans away from the last vampire he had seen? He regretted his choice everyday of his last few years and he didn’t know if he would be able to mourn one more person.

He looked down at Louis and saw your crying eyes stare back at him. He looked up instantly.

“You will regret this for the rest of your life.” He said. Yet he didn’t know if he was talking to himself or Louis. Maybe both. He walked to the little girl on the floor and picked her body with ease. Poor thing was covered in burns and couldn’t open her eyes. His blue eyes found Louis’s relieved shoulders and his fangs found the girl’s small neck.

[princessbrunette]

playlists for the readers … ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ³ ᵔ ꒱ྀིა

bunny!reader ♡

just girly fun vibes — she likes her music catchy, pop-y and fairly relatable. rafe never lets her play her music in the car unfortunately, because he cannot be seen speeding down the road blasting the pussy cat dolls.

🎀 cassie — ditto

🎀 kali uchis, steve lacy, vince staples — only girl

🎀 frank ocean — sweet life

🎀 coco & clair — pretty

🎀 sabrina carpenter — feather

🎀 flo milli — never lose me

🎀 cassie — miss your touch

🎀 childish gambino, jhené aiko — pink toes

🎀 flo.rida, wynter — sugar

🎀 kali uchis — honey baby (SPOILED!)

🎀 angels — my boyfriends back

🎀 foxy brown, kelis — candy

🎀 lana del rey — music to watch boys to

🎀 jhené aiko — maniac

🎀 fergie — clumsy

🎀 ciara, 50 cent — can’t leave ‘em alone

🎀 shelley duvall — he needs me

🎀 nancy sinatra — sugar town

🎀 heidi montag — i’ll do it

🎀 nicki minaj, jeremiah — favourite

🎀 kali uchis — melting

🎀 lady gaga — boys boys boys

🎀 cassie — long way 2 go

🎀 the pussycat dolls — when i grow up

🎀 tom tom club — genius of love

🎀 beyoncé — freakum dress

🎀 gwen stefani — bubble pop electric

🎀 marina — primadonna girl

🎀 madonna — material girl

🎀 pussy cat dolls — stickwitu

🎀 leven kali, syd — do u wrong

🎀 kiana ledé — mad at me

kitty!reader ♡

listens to her music to feel cool n edgy. shes one of those people that think she’s a bitch but she’s not at all, just a lil grumpy. wants everyone to know she liked deftones before it was cool.

🐈‍⬛ pixies — is she weird

🐈‍⬛ arctic monkeys — mardy bum

🐈‍⬛ black box recorder — child psychology

🐈‍⬛ the smiths — pretty girls make graves

🐈‍⬛ ethel cain — crush

🐈‍⬛ mazzy star — she’s my baby

🐈‍⬛ radiohead — creep

🐈‍⬛ chris isaak — wicked game

🐈‍⬛ limp bizkit — rollin’

🐈‍⬛ the pretty reckless — makes me wanna die

🐈‍⬛ pearly drops — bloom for me

🐈‍⬛ deftones — root

🐈‍⬛ fka twigs — two weeks

🐈‍⬛ deftones — romantic dreams

🐈‍⬛ hole — doll parts

🐈‍⬛ margeaux — hot faced

🐈‍⬛ siouxsie and the banshees — she’s a carnival

🐈‍⬛ kip tyler — she’s my witch

🐈‍⬛ deftones — mascara

🐈‍⬛ soho dolls — bang bang bang bang

🐈‍⬛ enigma — sadeness

🐈‍⬛ DANGERDOOM, MF DOOM — perfect hair

🐈‍⬛ radiohead — idioteque

🐈‍⬛ björk — come to me

🐈‍⬛ the nbhd — fallen star

🐈‍⬛ arctic monkeys — crying lightening

🐈‍⬛ deftones — diamond eyes

🐈‍⬛ the smiths — girl afraid

🐈‍⬛ ethel cain — unpunishable

🐈‍⬛ mitski — townie

🐈‍⬛ gorillaz — kids with guns

🐈‍⬛ evanescence — taking over me

deer!reader ♡

she’d say her playlists are all over the place — but it’s organised mess. she has them perfectly collated and in her head they make perfect sense. don’t put her on the aux though, not because the songs aren’t good but because the vibes are all over the place.

🍪 shura — 2shy

🍪 minnie riperton — les fleurs

🍪 april march — chick habit

🍪 benee — kool

🍪 camille saint- saëns — … le cygne

🍪 the little dippers — forever

🍪 allie x, mitski — susie save your love

🍪 she & him — why do you let me stay here?

🍪 lesley gore — i’m coolin’ no foolin’

🍪 sza — prom

🍪 the penguins — earth angel

🍪 SALES — renee

🍪 cleo sol — sunshine

🍪 japanese breakfast — be sweet

🍪 kate bush — cloud busting

🍪 mazzy star — halah

🍪 the mamas & papas — dedicated to the one i love

🍪 scissors sisters — filthy / gorgeous

🍪 fiona apples — shameika

🍪 fleetwood mac — mystified

🍪 margo guryan — under my umbrella

🍪 erykah badu — apple tree

🍪 mort garson — plantasia

🍪 sza — sweet november

🍪 quadron — sea salt

🍪 corinne bailey rae — green aphrodisiac

🍪 sade — lovers rock

🍪 ella fitzgerald — moonlight serenade

🍪 cigarettes after sex — truly

🍪 tv girl — heaven is a bedroom

🍪 the velvet underground — femme fetale

🍪 clairo, coco & clair — racecar

🍪 james blake, rosalía — barefoot in the park

🍪 tame impala — nangs

puppy!reader ♡

never seen without her walkman — loves running around and dancing to her upbeat music. her playlists will remind you of days in the sun and dancing in summer rain.

🐶 her’s — love on the line (call now)

🐶 HAIM — summer girl

🐶 the la’s — there she goes

🐶 stacey q — two of hearts

🐶 faye webster — right side of my neck

🐶 bakar, summer walker — hell n back

🐶 beabadoobee — sunny day

🐶 dominic fike — babydoll

🐶 jungle — back on 74

🐶 pinkpanthress — attracted to you

🐶 duran duran — girls on film

🐶 shuggie otis — strawberry letter 23

🐶 sixpence none the richer — kiss me

🐶 matilda mann — bloom

🐶 HAIM — falling

🐶 311 — amber

🐶 earth, wind & fire — boogie wonderland

🐶 lorde — ribs

🐶 lesley gore — sunshine lollipops and rainbows

🐶 stevie wonder — all i do

🐶 the human league — don’t you want me

🐶 the turtles — happy together

🐶 pet shop boys — west end girls

🐶 clairo — bags

🐶 pat benetar — love is a battlefield

🐶 the psychedelic furs — love my way

🐶 scouting for girls — she’s so lovely

🐶 noisettes — wild young hearts

🐶 the all eyes i — beat goes on

🐶 tame impala — elephant

🐶 sublime — waiting for my ruca

🐶 mgmt — boogie down

[redroomreflections]

Let It Linger

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

A Family of Her Own Series

9/10

Masterlist | General Masterlist

w/c: 6k

Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.

This Chapter: Natasha raises Nicky on her own.

Note: I think I spent a total of nine hours on this chapter today. I wanted this one to be out immediately after the other one. 'Twas hard editing and Grammarly hates me but we got it.

There were boxes. So many boxes and bags she needed to pack into this quinjet. Apparently, she was better at multitasking than she thought as Natasha loaded up another item up the ramp. She eyed the pile of bags and boxes stacked by the entrance of the house, each one a piece of the life she was trying to keep together. There were essentials: clothes, supplies, and every scrap of familiarity she could gather for Nicky. But even so, packing felt like she was gathering remnants rather than carrying a life forward.

Natasha hefted another box onto her hip, balancing it while she reached to open the hatch on the Quinjet. She’d been working nonstop, only pausing to check on Nicky, who was perched near the ramp with Stella's stuffed shark clutched in his hands. He missed his sister. He toddled around the quinjet, picking up rocks, and patches of grass, attempting to stuff them into his mouth.

"Nicky, no, don't put that in your mouth," Natasha gently scolded. The toddler dropped the blade of grass and gave her a look that reminded her of you. That look tore through her every time, spurring her to work faster, to keep him distracted, safe, and normal—even if she didn’t know what “normal” looked like anymore.

“There we go,” she murmured as she placed the box inside, taking a deep breath before straightening up and dusting her hands on her pants. “See? Told you we’d fit it all.”

Her words fell flat in the empty cargo bay. She glanced around, looking for Nicky. A bolt of panic shot through her as she caught sight of him toddling away from the jet.

“Nicky! Stay near the jet!” Natasha called her voice firm but gentle, a note of weariness woven through it.

But as always, Nicky was determined, his little legs carrying him farther down the hill, his gaze locked on the swaying trees at the edge of the clearing. She cursed softly under her breath and jogged after him, scooping him up just as his fingers reached out for the grass. His small face crumpled, the beginnings of a pout forming, and he squirmed, his hands grabbing at the air, trying to clutch the grass he’d been reaching for.

“No, baby, it’s not safe,” she said firmly, tucking him close as he fussed. She forced herself to look away from the tree line. He didn’t understand, but she did. There were too many memories lingering there, places she couldn't risk letting him wander.

Nicky’s lip quivered, and his small hands gripped her collar in silent protest. She sighed, cradling him closer, and kissed his forehead, murmuring, “I know. I know, buddy. We’ll be home soon.”

She walked him back to the jet, where the boxes and bags were already stacked and waiting. Nicky’s weight against her shoulder was steady, grounding—so unlike the lightness and emptiness she felt inside. He was growing quickly, each day a small reminder of time slipping by. He’d be two soon. How had it already been three months? Three months of hollow silence, of talking to him in soft whispers, of answering questions she knew he was too young to ask but that he felt in his own way.

“Almost done, buddy,” she said, trying to keep her tone upbeat, but her voice cracked. She turned back to the house, and with him still clinging to her, walked through the door one last time to grab the last bag. Standing there in the doorway, she felt the weight of everything she was leaving behind, the faintest echoes of laughter and warmth still lingering in each corner.

With a deep breath, she slung the bag over her shoulder and glanced around. She was carrying everything she could now, every piece of what you'd built, gathered together in the small world she’d assembled for Nicky and herself.

“You’re getting heavy,” she murmured to him with a small smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. Nicky settled his head against her shoulder, his tiny fingers clutching at her sleeve as if he knew she needed the comfort more than he did.

It was time. They couldn’t stay here any longer, in a place so haunted by the memories of you. As much as it hurt, she knew returning to New York was the only path forward. The only way to find you. There were no resources here in Missouri. The compound had everything she needed. Natasha began to walk distractedly back to the quinjet, lugging the bag and Nicky effortlessly. She set him down, noting that he was following her, as she placed the bags into the bay. As Natasha slid the last bag into the Quinjet, she heard a faint jingling sound behind her. Her first thought was that Nicky had gotten hold of one of her empty holsters, and she was about to gently tell him to stay back. But then her voice caught in her throat as she turned around and saw it: a large, powerful-looking German shepherd standing a few feet away, intently sniffing in Nicky's direction.

Her body tensed instinctively. The dog was big, with a thick, well-muscled frame and the kind of alert gaze that signaled sharp intelligence and strong instincts. Natasha stepped forward slightly, inching closer to Nicky, her body a barrier between him and the strange dog.

“Hey there…” she said quietly, her voice steady but wary, as the shepherd lowered its nose toward Nicky, taking in his scent. Her eyes darted between them, ready to scoop Nicky up if the dog showed even a hint of aggression. But instead, the dog took a step closer and gave a short, chuffing sneeze, his head cocking to the side in an unexpectedly endearing way.

Nicky let out a tiny laugh, his hands reaching toward the dog without hesitation. Natasha’s heart lurched. Nicky had never been afraid of anything, and this was no exception.

“‘Mama,” Nicky said excitedly, his face lighting up. “Doggie!”

The dog, apparently pleased with the attention, let out a gentle huff and pressed its nose into Nicky's small hands, tail swishing low but wagging softly. Natasha exhaled slowly, her hand resting protectively on Nicky's back as she took in the scene.

“Alright, I guess you’re friendly,” she muttered, unable to keep a faint smile from creeping into her expression as she watched Nicky's chubby fingers grasp at the dog’s fur. The shepherd sat back on its haunches, its gaze moving between Nicky and Natasha as if patiently awaiting a command. "Where's your owner?" Natasha asked.

She scanned the area, her body tense, her hand resting on the knife strapped to her thigh under her pants, but saw no sign of anyone else. It didn’t make sense. How had the dog managed to get out here on its own? Of course, the house wasn't completely in the middle of nowhere but he'd have to walk far on his own.

The dog seemed content, its gaze flicking back to Nicky. Its tail thumped softly, and a low whine rose from its chest.

"Mama, doggie," Nicky giggled again.

"I know, the dog is nice but he can't stay," She shook her head. "We have to go. C'mon, kiddo."

Nicky looked at her with wide, pleading eyes, his little mouth turning down in a pout.

"Do we have to?" she groaned, knowing she'd lose this battle.

Nicky clapped his hands and squealed, his voice rising into an excited babble, and the dog let out a soft huff.

"What's your name?" She reached slowly for the dog tag. She squinted, holding the small piece of metal closer, but it was faded. Her brow furrowed as she tried to make out the words etched there.

"Ollie?" She tilted her head.

The dog stood and stretched, its large body shaking. It gave a gentle bark, its ears flicking as it regarded Natasha.

"Alright, okay, we can keep you for a little while," She nodded, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner. She carried Nicky over to his car seat, ensuring he was strapped in. Natasha watched as Ollie hopped into the seat beside him and rested his head in Nicky's lap, just beside the stuffed shark.

She was almost surprised when Nicky didn't fuss or try to wriggle out of his restraints. Instead, his small hand tangled in the soft fur at the top of Ollie's head, and he looked at her expectantly. As if they knew each other their whole lives. Natasha smiled to herself as she took her place in the pilot's chair, running a last system check before taking off.

She could have sworn the dog looked right at her, its head cocked, its ears swiveling toward her. She felt a sudden wave of sadness, her fingers tightening around the controls.

"Don't worry, buddy," she murmured, her voice tight with emotion. "We're going home."

*********

Natasha paused just outside the glass doors of the compound, shifting the weight of the toddler on her hip. Nicky’s tiny hands clung to her jacket, his gaze curiously drifting over the building as if sensing it was different from the small home they’d left behind. She'd forgotten that he had never been there. He hadn't known her life as an Avenger. It felt like a lifetime ago.

It was different now. Emptier. The building was quiet and dark, save for a few lights here and there. The once-busy hallways were now nearly silent. No footsteps echoed against the tile, and no voices or laughter broke the stillness. The air was cool and smelled faintly of food. Someone was cooking.

The sound of claws tapping against the floor made her look back. Ollie padded up behind her, his tongue lolling out in a panting grin, his tail wagging softly.

"Okay," Natasha muttered walking further into the compound. "We're home, Nicky."

He made a small, inquisitive noise and buried his face against her shoulder, his little fingers curling into the fabric of her jacket.

In the kitchen, Tony and Pepper sat together at the counter, sharing a quiet dinner. They were deep in conversation, their voices low, but Natasha caught glimpses of concern in Pepper’s expression as she leaned closer to Tony. They were discussing something serious—she could tell by the way Tony was fiddling with his coffee mug, brow furrowed.

The sound of her footsteps made them both look up. Tony’s mouth fell open for a beat before he quickly regained his composure, but the shock in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Natasha!” he exclaimed, his voice somewhere between delighted and bewildered. “And...a kid?”

“Yeah.” Natasha tightened her hold on Nicky, who watched Tony with wide, curious eyes. “This is Dominic.”

Tony blinked, looking from her to the toddler and back again. “Is he...yours?”

“He’s mine,” Natasha replied softly, her tone steady but carrying a weight that only those who knew her well could understand.

"Did you steal him?" Tony asked. He barely flinched at the pinch Pepper given him under the table.

"No, Tony, I didn't steal him," she muttered.

"But you've been gone for—"

"He's my son," She cut in, her tone firm, leaving no room for doubt.

Pepper's expression softened.

"It's nice to meet you, Dominic," Pepper's voice was soft and calm.

Nicky made a soft noise and tucked his head against Natasha's shoulder, shy and uncertain.

"This is Aunt Pepper and Uncle Tony," Natasha murmured to him. "They're good people."

Tony and Pepper exchanged a brief look.

"He's a mini you, Nat," Tony said quietly, a small smile creeping into his expression.

"I tend to think he looks like my wife," Natasha shrugged. You did birth him after all.

Tony’s jaw dropped, and he blinked at her in shock, trying to process the words.

“Your…wife?” he repeated slowly, looking at Natasha as though he were piecing together a puzzle.

A flicker of emotion crossed Natasha's face—something softer, something mournful. She glanced down at Nicky, brushing a gentle hand over his hair as he burrowed closer to her shoulder.

“Yes. My wife,” she confirmed quietly, her voice laced with a kind of bittersweet strength. “He takes after her, you know—especially the smile.”

Tony opened his mouth and then closed it again, his brow furrowing, and Pepper reached to cover his hand with hers, gently squeezing his fingers. "And the dog?"

"I stole him," She said.

Tony chuckled softly.

Natasha was suddenly exhausted. It was too much, too fast. She needed space. Space to breathe, space to process, space to be with her son. She shifted her weight, and the motion drew Ollie's attention.

"He's been a good help," she murmured. "Dominic's not fond of long rides. Usually y/n would sit with him and help him sleep."

“Oh, Natasha…” Pepper murmured, reaching out to gently touch her arm. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

Natasha gave a small, tight nod. “It was…before all of this happened.” She took a deep breath, glancing around the compound as if seeing it with fresh eyes. “After the snap, I…didn’t know what else to do. And I thought maybe…coming back here might help us.”

Tony cleared his throat, clearly still processing. “Well, you’re here now, and that’s what matters. You’re both welcome here, Nat.”

Nicky peeked up at Tony, his shyness momentarily forgotten, and Tony gave him a little smile and wave. “Hey, kiddo. I’m your Uncle Tony, and we’ll…work on getting you into the best tech school money can buy.”

Natasha’s lips curved into a faint smile, some of her tension easing. “One step at a time, Tony.”

He held up his hands, conceding, and gave a small chuckle. "You must be hungry. Have you eaten?"

"No," she admitted.

"Sit. I'll get you both something."

"I don't think he'll eat anything."

"He's gotta eat something," Tony waved a hand. "I made steaks."

"You cooked?" Natasha questioned.

"Yes," Tony shot her a glare. "And you're welcome. Pepper and I have been taking turns, but it's not as if we have a chef."

"I'm sorry," Natasha whispered, a small blush creeping up her neck.

"Sit, Nat. I'll get you both something," Pepper said softly.

"Thank you," she murmured, her gaze shifting to Nicky. Before Tony could ask more questions, Steve stepped into the kitchen. He was sporting some serious five o'clock shadow and his hair had grown at least an inch.

"Nat?" he said, his voice hoarse, his eyes widening slightly. He was frozen to the spot.

"I thought you might have run off to Europe again," Natasha commented.

"I, uh, have some business here. Wanted to be back if things changed," He answered.

"I'm glad you did," she said, a sad smile forming.

"How's Nicky?" Steve asked.

"Wait? You know him? You knew about him?" Tony brought a plate of food to place in front of Natasha.

"I did," Steve shook his head."I met him when I went to get Nat and her family," He shrugged.

"Family?"

"Yes, Tony. Family. Y/n is my wife. Nicky is our son." Natasha clarified. "Stella is...she's our daughter. She's three."

"But you were gone," Tony said. "A lot. Here with us. Like all the time."

"I took breaks, Tony. And yes, I was gone a lot. That's why we bought a house. Y/n could stay home. It was easier than having a nanny or putting Stella in daycare."

"Oh, uh. I didn't know," He murmured, suddenly realizing how insensitive he was being.

"I didn't mean to interrupt. I just came for a drink," Steve said, grabbing a bottle of water and backing away.

"Steak, Cap?" Tony called.

"I'm good, Tony," He waved.

"You could stay," Natasha suggested.

"I don't want to intrude," Steve said.

"You won't. Nicky needs someone to keep him busy. Ollie will only entertain him so much," Natasha chuckled.

"Ollie?" Steve looked confused.

"Our new dog. He found us before we got here."

Just as he sat down, Nicky reached for Steve, his tiny arms opening and closing. Natasha's heart lurched. He was looking for a connection with the only other person he knew. Steve scooped Nicky up, placing him on his lap, and began to speak to him in a low, quiet voice.

"So," Tony clapped his hands, breaking the tension. "What did this wife of yours look like? How did you meet her?"

Natasha took a bite of her steak, chewing it slowly, letting the silence draw out until Pepper gave him a look. "She was a former SHIELD agent."

"She was?" Tony was confused.

"Yes," Natasha nodded.

"When did you meet her?" Steve asked.

"Tony, I really think we should discuss something else," Pepper told him gently. She could see the tears forming in Natasha's eyes.

"Like what?" Tony was oblivious.

"Tony, she lost her family," Pepper scolded.

"Right," Tony backed down for once. His curiosity was evident.

"Tell us about him," Pepper gestured toward Nicky.

"He's stubborn," Natasha smirked. "Just like his mother. And he's brave, and he's smart."

"We're going to get them back Nat," Steve said firmly. She wished she could believe him.

**************

The days had started to blur together, each one folding into the next in an endless cycle of searching, planning, and hoping. Natasha clung to Steve's words with everything she had, holding onto the idea that somehow, she’d bring you and everyone else back. She pushed herself to the limit, reaching out to anyone and everyone—Okoye in Wakanda, Rocket and the Guardians, and even a scroll of world leaders. Every door opened led to another closed one, and yet she kept moving forward, refusing to believe that all hope was lost.

But being an Avenger, a relentless force in her search, wasn’t her hardest job. Every time she returned to the compound after a long, fruitless day, her hardest job began: being a mother to Nicky. He’d started speaking more, toddling around the compound, exploring every nook and cranny. His laughter resonated down the quiet halls, moments of brightness in an otherwise somber world. Yet there were days he grew frustrated, looking around as if he knew someone was missing but couldn’t understand why.

Here they are in their suite just the two of them and Ollie. Ollie watched with slight interest, one ear raised, as Natasha placed a single cupcake in front of them on the coffee table. Finding it had been a challenge—most bakeries in New York were still struggling to recover, their shelves often bare and their employees long gone. But today was special. Today was Nicky’s third birthday, and despite everything, she was determined to give him a good day.

The cupcake was modest but beautiful, topped with a swirl of frosting and a single candle flickering gently in the still air.

“Look what I found!” Natasha exclaimed, leaning closer to him with a playful grin. “It’s your very own birthday cupcake!”

Nicky clapped his hands and giggled. "It's my favorite color, Mama."

"Red," She smiled, her fingers gently tugging on his ear.

"Like Mama's hair."

"Yes, like Mama's hair," She kissed his cheek, pulling a box of matches from her pocket.

"I'm three," he added, holding up three fingers. "A big boy."

"That's right, baby," She lit the candle and started singing, her voice quiet and slightly raspy.

As the song ended, Nicky squealed and bounced up and down in her lap. "Make a wish, sweetheart," Natasha whispered.

Nicky looked at the flame for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Do I blow it out, Mama?"

"Yes, that's what we do. We blow it out."

"And then we make a wish?"

"Yep."

Nicky stared at the flame, his chubby hands resting on Natasha's forearm, and let out a short puff of air, the flame wavering and sputtering out.

"What did you wish for?" she murmured.

Nicky grinned. "A basketball."

"You like basketball?" Natasha's brows rose.

"I wanna play basketball," He told her.

"Maybe when you're bigger, kiddo," She chuckled softly.

Nicky nodded, his attention moving to the frosting. Natasha quickly swiped some off the top, and he eagerly opened his mouth.

"Good?" She asked.

He gave an enthusiastic nod. "More, Mama."

She obliged, wiping more frosting onto her finger, and he giggled as he took it from her.

"Okay, you need a bath after this. Then we can play with your new toys," Natasha said.

Nicky paused a smudge of red frosting at the corner of his mouth. "Can we watch more videos of Mommy and my sister?"

"Yes, we can." She kissed his cheek, her heart twisting with pain and joy."Happy birthday, Nicky," She murmured, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close. She reached for the phone, found the birthday video you'd taken in France, and played it for him.

"It was so nice to celebrate your birthday here, baby. Look at you. You're so big." Your voice sounded from the speakers.

Tears sprang to Natasha's eyes as she watched. She was doing the best she could, but nothing could replace you. It was only a matter of time before Nicky understood the situation fully.

"That's my sister," Nicky said excitedly as Stella stepped into the frame.

"Yes, that's your sister," Natasha agreed. "She's a good big sister."

"Where's Stella and Mommy?" He asked quietly, his tone hopeful.

Natasha's chest tightened. She'd told him many times that you were away, and she was working on bringing you home. It was a lie that grew harder to tell each time he asked. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep it up.

"They're away right now, Nicky," Natasha answered gently.

"How come they're not here?"

"Mommy and Stella are in another place," Natasha explained, brushing her hand over his hair. He really needed a haircut. "It's far away."

"Like a trip?"

"Sort of," She nodded, not sure how to continue.

"Are they coming home soon?"

"We're working on it," She said, swallowing hard.

"Can I play with Ollie now?" He asked.

"Sure, honey. He's been waiting for you."

Nicky scrambled from her lap, his small body moving across the room. The dog stood and stretched, shaking his fur before padding toward the toddler.

"Be careful, okay?" She warned him.

Nicky was already on the floor, his fingers tangled in the dog's fur. Natasha's eyes turned back to the video.

Natasha watched you scoop him into your arms, your laughter loud and carefree, his giggles infectious. Her heart twisted in her chest, aching. A tear rolled down her cheek.

"I love you," she whispered, her gaze turning toward Nicky. He was sprawled on the floor with Ollie, the two of them engaged in an intense game of tug of war.

She loved him enough for the both of you. 

********

The days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, and Natasha found herself lost in the whirlwind of motherhood and the unending search for answers. The ache in her heart was a constant reminder of what they had lost, but she held onto hope, even if it felt threadbare. This was year three.

The morning light streamed through the window as she sipped her coffee, the mug warming her hands. Today felt different, though—a change was in the air. She sensed it even before Steve arrived with his suitcase in hand, a determined look on his face.

“Hey, Nat,” he greeted her, his voice steady but soft.

“Hey,” she replied, setting her mug down. “You’re moving out?”

“Yeah, I found a place in Brooklyn.” His smile was filled with sadness, but he tried to mask it.

“Oh,” Natasha said, feeling a pang in her chest. Steve had been a steady presence, a support system when everything else felt chaotic. “Are you sure about this?”

“I need my own space,” he admitted, glancing around the suite that had become their makeshift home. “I think it’ll be good for me. For all of us. It's been three years since the snap."

Natasha felt her breath catch in her throat, her fingers tightening on her mug. Three years.

"And I...I can't stay here any longer, Nat," he continued, his gaze distant, as if he were seeing the past.

She understood. The compound held memories, good and bad, and for Steve, those memories were a constant reminder of his lost love. Tony and Pepper had announced their pregnancy shortly after she moved in and had gone lakeside with their newborn, Morgan. For the past few years, it's just been the three of them. It became routine to have Steve at lunch or dinner.

"I get it," Natasha nodded, taking another sip of coffee.

"But, hey," he added, trying for a more upbeat tone. "I'm not too far. I'll be back to visit. And I'm still working on finding a way to bring them back. We'll get them back, Nat."

"I know."

"And you're welcome at my place any time."

"Thanks, Steve," Natasha managed a small smile. "And thank you. For everything."

"It's what friends do," he shrugged, pulling her into a hug.

"Take care of yourself," she murmured.

"I will," he assured her. "And don't be a stranger, okay? My door is always open."

"I'll remember that," she gave a soft laugh.

Steve lingered a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features.

"Something else?" She prompted.

"No, no," Steve shook his head.

With that, he was gone.

**********

Natasha was truly alone now and she found herself stretched thin. Every answer she'd gotten only led back to square one. There was no getting you back. There was no coming back from this. Today was one of those days. Nicky was being particularly stubborn, a trait he had inherited from both her and you. He had spent the morning refusing to pick up his toys, ignoring her gentle reminders to tidy up.

“Nicky, please,” she said, her patience waning as she knelt beside him. “We need to clean up before we can play outside. You can’t keep leaving your toys all over the place.”

He looked up at her, his hazel eyes mirroring your defiance. “No! I wanna play with Ollie!”

Natasha felt frustration bubbling inside her. “You can play with Ollie after you clean up. That’s the rule,” she insisted, trying to maintain her composure.

Nicky scowled, his little fists balling up, and stomped his foot. “No!” he shouted, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I don’t want to!”

The defiance ignited something deep within Natasha, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. “Nicky, I need you to listen to me. This isn’t just about toys; it’s about helping each other. We’re a team, remember?”

Her son shook his head, a few stray tears falling from his eyes. "I want my mommy!" he shouted, his lower lip trembling. "You're no fun."

"Well right now you're mommy's not here," Natasha swallowed. "I'm here and I'm telling you to pick up your toys."

"No," Nicky muttered, his stubborn streak on full display.

"Fine," Natasha snapped, pushing herself to her feet. "If you want to act like a baby, then I'll treat you like one."

She stalked away from him, grabbing a pillow from the sofa and dropping it on the floor.

"Go sit in time out," she ordered.

"No, Mama," Nicky whimpered.

"Time. Out."

"I don't want time out."

"It's either time out or the naughty step," She said firmly.

"No," he shouted, his tiny fist hitting the pillow and knocking it off. "No, no, no, no." He yelled.

"Dominic," Natasha's voice was sharp, her gaze hard. "Stop that right now. I am your mother and you will obey me."

"You're mean," He muttered, his cheeks flushed.

"You're the one being mean right now," she pointed out. "Now sit down and stay there until I say so."

"You don't tell me what to do," He screamed. "I want my other mommy, not you."

His expression remained resolute, and Natasha could feel her temper flaring. “You’re ruining my life!” she snapped before she could catch herself.

Nicky recoiled as if she had struck him, his eyes welling with tears, and for a moment Natasha thought he might apologize. But then he was crying, his tiny shoulders shaking, his face scrunched up with emotion.

Ollie let out a soft whine, nudging his head against Nicky's leg.

"Nicky," She breathed.

"You don't love me," He cried, his arms wrapped tightly around the dog.

"Nicky," Natasha repeated, moving to kneel beside him.

"You don't want me."

"Nicky, no," Natasha said softly, her heart breaking at the sound of his sobs.

"You wish I wasn't here."

"No, no, Nicky."

"I wanna go back to Mommy," He hiccuped, his tears still falling. Nevermind the fact that his memories of you were fleeting and few.

"Nicky, look at me," Natasha tried, her fingers gently tilting his chin up.

"No," He refused, his gaze fixed on the ground.

"Please," she pleaded.

Nicky met her gaze, his eyes filled with tears and sadness.

"I'm sorry, Nicky. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that. I was just frustrated. You can't say those things. That's not true," She shook her head.

"Then why?"

"Because," She started, her heart pounding in her chest. "Your mommy is gone and I'm trying so hard to bring her back. I'm sorry baby. Listen to me."

"You yelled," He accused.

"I know. I shouldn't have done that."

"My ears hurt."

"I'm sorry. Here," She pulled him onto her lap, her arms wrapping around him. "Mama's so sorry. Baby."

Nicky buried his face against her shoulder, his small hands clinging to her shirt. "Mama," He hiccuped, his fingers tangled in her shirt.

"Baby, listen to me. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," She sighed.

"You're not mad?" He mumbled.

"I'm not mad," She reassured him, kissing his head. "I'm so sorry. I promise you I'm trying. I'm doing everything I can. Okay?"

Nicky nodded.

"You know I love you so much, right?"

"Yes."

"And your mommy loves you. So much. She would be so proud of you. Okay?"

Nicky let out a shuddering breath, his fingers clutching her shirt.

"You're my boy," She murmured. "And I'm going to do everything I can to keep you safe."

***********

The streets of New York City were eerily empty as Natasha walked along the sidewalks. It had been a long time since she’d ventured out on her own, without Nicky by her side. She had left him with Steve, knowing the six-year-old would be safe and entertained while she took a moment to breathe. The city felt both familiar and foreign, a blend of memories and shadows that lingered in the corners of her mind.

Though she’d tried to hold onto hope, there were days when it slipped through her fingers like sand. Natasha brushed a hand through her hair, exhaling slowly as she took in the skyline, the towering buildings standing as a testament to resilience—something she desperately needed to muster within herself.

Her feet carried her toward a small bar tucked away between two larger establishments, the neon sign flickering in the dim light. It seemed inviting, almost like a refuge from the overwhelming world outside. Natasha hesitated at the entrance, her fingers curling around the door handle, but then she pushed it open, her boots landing on the worn floorboards.

A handful of patrons occupied the tables, their heads bowed and voices hushed. No one seemed to notice her as she approached the bar, the bartender polishing a glass and humming softly to himself.

He glanced up as she sat down, a half smile playing on his lips.

"What can I get ya?"

"Just a beer," she replied.

"Coming right up."

The bartender grabbed a bottle and popped the cap off before sliding it toward her.

"Thanks," she said, taking a long swig.

He leaned closer, his eyes appraising her. "I don't mean to be nosy, but you look familiar."

Natasha tensed, her fingers gripping the bottle tighter.

"I knew it," he smiled. "You're an Avenger."

"Yeah," she nodded.

"What brings you to our neck of the woods?"

"Just needed a break," she admitted, her voice low.

"From?"

"Everything."

"Sounds rough," he commented.

"It's been a rough few years."

"Tell me about it," the bartender shook his head. "This whole snap thing has really shaken up the city."

"You can say that again," Natasha muttered, taking another sip of her beer.

Sensing that she needed to be alone he left her to her thoughts. As the bartender walked away, she glanced around the room, her gaze landing on a woman seated a few stools down. The woman was alone, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, a book resting on the counter beside her.

"It's Harry Potter," The woman held up her book. "Dorky right?"

"Not at all," Natasha smiled.

"I'm Nora," the woman offered her hand.

"Natasha."

"You're an Avenger," she grinned.

"Guilty as charged."

"You guys are heroes."

"Thanks."

"How's that going?"

"Honestly, I've had better days," Natasha laughed bitterly.

“Is this seat taken?” Nora asked as she moved closer.

"All yours."

"So, what's an Avenger doing at my local dive bar?"

"Just trying to clear my head," Natasha answered.

"Well, I'm glad you're here."

"Me too."

Natasha took another swig of her beer, the alcohol burning her throat.

"Wanna talk about it?" Nora asked.

"There's not much to talk about," Natasha sighed. "My wife's gone. I'm raising our son on my own. The rest of the team has split up, and I have no idea what's happening."

"Oh, wow," Nora's brow furrowed. "That's heavy."

"Yeah," Natasha nodded.

"I'm sorry," Nora gave her a sympathetic smile.

"It is what it is," Natasha shrugged, downing the last of her beer.

"Here," Nora offered her a shot glass filled with amber liquid.

"I shouldn't," Natasha hesitated.

"You should. Trust me. It helps."

Natasha accepted the shot glass, swallowing the liquid in one gulp.

"I don't want to seem weird, but if you need someone to talk to, I'm a pretty good listener."

"And if I didn't want you to listen?"

"Well, I can be there for other things too," Nora smirked.

Natasha met her gaze, a slight flush creeping up her cheeks. "Yeah, you can."

"Are you busy tonight?"

"Not at all," Natasha laughed, her mood lifting.

"Wanna get out of here?" Nora suggested. "My apartment is down the street."

"Lead the way." She gestured, slapping a twenty dollar bill on the counter.

“Am I really doing this?” Natasha wondered silently, her thoughts racing. She hadn’t intended to meet someone tonight, let alone flirt with them, but something about Nora's easy demeanor and infectious laughter drew her in. It had been ages since Natasha had allowed herself to entertain thoughts of connection beyond her role as a mother and an Avenger. Was this just a fleeting moment of distraction, or could it be something more?

Nora led the way down the street, her long strides effortlessly navigating the sidewalk. Natasha followed closely, acutely aware of the warmth radiating from Nora’s presence. “This way,” Nora called back, her voice light and inviting.

As they walked, Natasha couldn’t help but replay the evening in her mind. The shot had loosened her inhibitions, allowing her to share more than she had intended.

“Are you always this quiet?” Nora asked, glancing over at her. She took Natasha's hand in her own. A presumptuous move.

Natasha smiled, enjoying the feeling of Nora's hand in hers.

"I'm on the third floor," Nora narrated as they took the elevator to hr apartment.

The door opened into a cozy space, the lights dimmed and the scent of cinnamon lingered in the air.

"So this is my humble abode," Nora announced, her hand gesturing around the room.

"Nice place," Natasha commented, her gaze lingering on the bookshelf and the photographs decorating the walls.

"Make yourself comfortable," Nora invited, slipping her shoes off and tossing her jacket onto the armchair.

"Thanks," Natasha smiled, sinking into the sofa and resting her head against the cushion.

Nora settled beside her, a glass of wine in each hand.

"So, do you frequent that bar a lot?"

"More often than I'd like," Nora admitted. "But you didn't come all the way to my apartment to get to know me."

"No," Natasha agreed, taking a sip of her wine. "I didn't."

It's almost as if Nora instantly knew what she needed or assumed she did. She straddled Natasha's lap and moved to kiss her. Natasha turned her head.

"I'm sorry I just.." Natasha shook her head. Nora doesn't take offense. She simply nuzzled Natasha's neck. It's there Natasha allowed her to place a kiss.

"You smell so good," Nora murmured, her fingers brushing through Natasha's hair.

"Thanks," Natasha breathed.

Nora's lips brushed over her neck, the sensation sending shivers down her spine. Natasha leaned into the touch, her eyes closing.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," Nora said softly.

"No," Natasha assured her. "You didn't."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Natasha smiled.

Nora returned the smile, her fingers tracing patterns on Natasha's skin.

"You're beautiful," she murmured.

"So are you," Natasha replied, her fingers tangling in Nora's hair. Nora's kisses continued on her neck as her hands worked Natasha's belt buckle.

"Nora," Natasha gasped.

"Relax," Nora breathed.

"I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"We're moving fast."

"Too fast?"

"Maybe," Natasha sighed.

"You can tell me to stop."

"No, no, it's okay," Natasha insisted. "I just...need a minute."

"Of course," Nora smiled, her fingers trailing along Natasha's jawline.

"You're not like other people I've met."

"How so?"

"You're..."

"Charming? Sexy? Funny?" Nora teased.

"I was going to say sweet," Natasha smiled but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"You miss your wife," Nora sighed.

"It's almost five years,"

"And you haven't been with anyone since."

"No, I haven't."

"You're lonely," Nora said, a sympathetic smile playing on her lips.

"Yeah," Natasha admitted. "I'm sorry. I can't do this."

"It's fine," Nora assured her. "I understand."

"Thanks," Natasha said.

"Are you hungry?" Nora asked.

"Starving," Natasha replied.

"Good," Nora smiled, standing up and offering her hand. "I've got leftover pizza."

"Sounds perfect," Natasha laughed.

They ended up eating the pizza on the couch, their knees touching as they chatted about everything and nothing. All Natasha needed was a friend.

***************

Natasha sat on a bench, watching Nicky play. He was growing up fast, his hair now cascading past his shoulders, and he was lanky and tall for his age, nearing seven years old. It was hard to believe how quickly time had passed since the Snap, and that he was already older than Stella ever was.

Nicky dashed around, his laughter ringing out like music, as he chased after a group of pigeons. He had taken a liking to animals, a trait he had most definitely inherited from you, and was always eager to see whatever was running around the compound.

Natasha chuckled, her gaze fixed on her son.

"He's getting big," a familiar voice called out, making her turn.

"Yeah," she smiled.

"Can I join you?" Steve asked, motioning to the empty space beside her.

"Of course," she scooted over.

"So how are you holding up?" He asked, settling down.

"I'm alright," Natasha replied.

"Just alright?"

"You know," she shrugged.

"It's getting easier, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"Living without them."

"Steve," she sighed.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I just wanted to check in."

"No, it's fine," she waved off.

"I'm here if you need anything."

"I appreciate that," she smiled.

"You look happier," Steve observed.

"Do I?"

"Yeah, you do."

"I feel better," she admitted.

"Good," Steve smiled. "That's good."

"Mama, look," Nicky called out, showing her the pigeon perched on his arm.

"That's great, buddy," she smiled.

"I'm gonna name him George," Nicky declared.

"Okay," she laughed. "We're going to double wash you during bath time."

Nicky frowned, his nose scrunching up.

"It's true," she nodded. "You don't want George to give you a disease."

"Oh," he sighed. "Alright."

"I love you, baby."

"Love you too, Mama."

"Be careful," she reminded him.

"I will."

Nicky ran off again, the pigeon and Ollie following behind him.

"It's getting late," Natasha commented, glancing up at the darkening sky.

"Yeah," Steve agreed.

"Do you have to be anywhere?"

"No," Steve shook his head.

"Good, I'd like the company."

"Glad I can be of service," Steve laughed.

They watched in silence as Nicky played, the sky streaked with pink and purple hues. He was the only real memory she had of you. She'd cherish him forever.

---> next part

[sturniolo04]

I Missed You C.S.

Bf!Chris x Gf!Fem!Reader

Summary: in which Katherine missed Chris.

A/N: If you don't like the preadded name in my stories, you can either add your own name or not read it; it's up to you :)

Chris, who was your boyfriend of 3 years, has been on tour with his brothers for the past month and a half just about. I am so beyond proud of him and his brothers but I miss him unbearingly and am ready for him to come home, according to him he still has another month left of shows and isn't even going to be back in LA after that because they were going to stay in Boston for awhile to spend time with his parents and Nate. So far now until he comes back to LA I am stuck texting and FaceTiming him.

Unbeknownst to Katherine, the Triplets tour ends the following day after she had talked to Chris on the phone, him telling her something totally different.

"how's Iowa mom"

you ask your mom since your on the phone with her.

"it good, im ready to go home tomorrow already"

she giggles as Katherine chuckles at her mom's lacking social battery.

" yeah i bet. Am i still picking you up from the airport tomorrow morning and taking you home or are you want to uber?"

you ask her because it was somewhat true that you needing to pick her up at the airport only thing is you weren't picking up your mom you were picking up your boyfriend and your other two favorite people in the world but, of course, Katherine doesn't know this information.

"um yes you can pick me up I might just stay at your apartment for the night and not make you drive me home immediately"

she replies to her daughter as she confirms the plan with a simple hum.

The next morning, just as clueless as ever, Katherine is sitting in the airport near the gate her mom had texted her to 'meet her at' on her phone passing time not even paying attention.

In the midst of her not paying attention, it gave her lovely boyfriend, who she is assumed was still going to be out of state for a couple more months at least, a chance to come up to her without her fully being aware of who he was.

"excuse me do you know where I can get some Pepsi"

Chris asks his girlfriend he is standing in front of currently.

"um yeah actually i do- me and my boyf-"

she trails off looking up and finally seeing who it is

"holy shit"

she gasps staring at his hovering figure trying to make sure this is a reality.

"hi pretty girl"

he replies as she stands up and wraps her arms around his neck as he rocks them from side to side.

"hi"

she softly whispers as he shifts his grip to her thighs to pick her up, with her proceeding to wrap her legs around his torso.

"um hello we are here too you know"

Nick states standing next to Matt awkwardly, as Chris sets you back on your feet.

"hi Nicky"

you say softly coming up and hugging him and then hugging Matt after.

" I thought you guys weren't done with tour yet- I thought you guys were going to be gone for at least two more months"

you sigh out looking up at Chris as he wraps his arms around your shoulders bringing you into another hug.

"no tour ended yesterday"

"what- that's not what you told me yesterday"

you states pulling arm's length out of the hug to look at Chris.

"well i had to say that your mom wanted it to be a surprise"

he chuckles bringing you back into his embrace.

"and as for Boston-"

"we didnt need to go because they are coming to LA next week"

he states simply finishing Nick's sentence.

"well I'm glad you guys are back finally"

Taglist

@mintsturniolo @adirtylittleheart @wh0resstuff

[la-femme-au-collier-vert]

IWTV Season Three Influences & References (so far) 😉

The First 21: How I Became Nikki Sixx by Nikki Sixx

Black Metal Rainbows edited by Daniel Lukes & Stanimir Panayotov

The Heroin Diaries by Nikki Sixx

The Art of Darkness: The History of Goth by John Robb

Set the Night on Fire by Robbie Kreiger

The Dirt: True Confessions of the World’s Most Notorious Rock Band by Tommy Lee, Mick Mars, Vince Neil and Nikki Sixx

The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975)

Hedwig and the Angry Inch (2001)

Mentioned at the SDCC24 panel by Rolin Jones and Daniel Hart:

David Bowie (particularly mid 70s/ Ziggy Stardust)

Mick Jagger of The Rolling Stones

Jim Morrison of the Doors

John Cale of the Velvet Underground

Freddie Mercury of Queen

Nick Cave of the Bad Seeds

David Lee Roth of Van Halen

Nicki Sixx of Motley Crue

Iggy Pop

Prince

Otis Redding

Mark Sandman

Ryan Kattner

Chappell Roan

Brandon Flowers of The Killers

Bjork

Fiona Apple

Daniel Hart 

T-Rex

Beastie Boys

Redd Kross

Tim Rose

Serge Gainsbourg

Electric Light Orchestra

Sweet

Florence Welsh

Saint Vincent

Raleigh Ritchie

Benjamin Clementine

Moses Sumney

Douglas Dare

Jeff Magnum

Paul Westerberg of the Replacements

Franz Liszt

Shostakovich

Gustave Mahler

Lang Lang

Martha Argerich

Gustavo Dudamel

Maurice Ravel cited by Daniel Hart on X

Nirvana cited by Daniel Hart during Reddit AMA

Season 2 here

Season 1 here

[quinnysnursery]

I *need* little!chris and little!matt with cg!nick, pretty please 🥺

[🩹🌟🥤] double trouble | the sturniolo triplets one-shot

paring : little!matt sturniolo x cg!nick sturniolo x little!chris sturniolo

summary : nick attempts to get some classic rainy day activities done with his littles

warning/extra tid-bits : light crying, i think that's all!

word count : 834 + not proofread

divider credit : umm i found all the photos on pinterest :3 (lines from @thecutestgrotto)

a/n : oatmeal cookies make me wanna do backflips

playing in the rain...

“Boys, stay close!” Nick called out.

When the eldest triplet had agreed to take both his littles on a nature walk, he’d done so under the impression that it wouldn’t rain the next day but as Nick stood in the middle of a forest with the bottom of his jeans drenched in mud and rain water, he realized he really needed to start checking his weather app before making promises. 

“C’moooonn Nicky!” Chris whined, ever the explorer. Matt was merely following his brother, stuffing his pockets with any rock that caught his eye. Nick heaved a breath as he finally caught up with the two regressed boys- “You have to stay close bud, I don’t want you two getting lost.” He explained.

Matt nodded as Chris mumbled out an apology. Nick offered both of his hands to both littles, smiling as they quickly took hold.

“Nicky?” Matt called out, causing the tallest triplet to turn his head to the quiet little. “Whe’e…” Matt stumbled over his words momentarily, “Whe’e do ‘e birdies go when ‘s rainin’?” The little looked at Nick with worry-filled eyes. 

Nick thought for a moment before offering an answer, “They find shelter just like we do, in trees…birdhouses…sometimes bushes.” 

Matt nodded, accepting the answer. Suddenly, the youngest triplet piped up. “M’ cold.” Chris shivered, huddling closer to his carer. Nick nodded, “I think it’s time to head back.” 

Thankfully, neither Matt nor Chris had any complaints about that.

arts and crafts...

Matt and Chris’ giggles filled the living room as Nick carefully poured washable paint onto separate paper plates. He’d learned early on as a caregiver that while teaching littles to share was important, his brothers much preferred to have their own individual items.

It made sense. Chris’ headspace was a bit older than Matt’s and both littles had nearly polar opposite personalities. 

“Boys! It’s ready!” Nick called out after checking one last time that the craft table was fully set up. Almost instantly, the sound of little feet pattering on the floor, barreling into the dining area filled the air.

“Woah!” Chris said in amazement, excitedly rocking up and down on his tippy toes. “T’ank ‘ou Nicky!” Matt smiled, immediately taking a seat and clumsily grabbing a paint brush- already beginning to work on painting the rocks he’d collected during the triplets nature walk.

“Nicky paint too?” Chris asked as he began smearing blue paint around a smooth river stone. Nick nodded, sitting down and watching his two littles for a few moments before beginning on a rock of his own.

The three brothers sat in near silence as they all worked on their respective project. Matt was working on a rainbow rock while Chris was painting his rocks to mimic M&M’s.

Suddenly, as Nick set down the rock he’d been working with, a quiet “thud!” caught his attention, followed by paint-water spilling out over the table. The dirty paint water splashed Matt’s rock, making all the colors muddle together.

Nick winced as Matt let out a loud, “Ch’is!”- followed by a soft cry. 

“M’ sorry Matt! M’ sorry!” Chris instantly began spewing out apologies. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Nick soothed both littles. Matt sniffled and shook his head “No! ‘s not okay!” The little cried, crossing his arms to his chest. 

Chris began crying too, begging his older brother to forgive him for knocking over the water container. “Baby,” Nick lowered himself to meet Matt’s eyes, “It was an accident, okay? You know Chris didn’t mean too.” He explained.

Matt wiped his eyes with his sweater-covered arms, looking at Chris who had tears in his eyes. “Pw’omise it was’a acci’ent?” Matt asked, causing Chris to nod quickly.

 “I promise! It was just’a accident! M’ sorry Matt!” Chris sniffled. Matt thought for a few moments before speaking, “...Okay…’s okay Chw’is.” Matt decided, standing up and hugging his brother.

Nick breathed a sigh of relief, thankful he’d avoided a double tantrum.

warm drinks...

“Extra, extra, marshmallows!” Chris giggled, woes from the past completely forgotten. Nick smiled, nodding as he stirred the cocoa mix into the mugs. 

“What about you Matt, extra extra marshmallows for you too?” The caregiver asked. Matt shook his head, “Ex’ta…whipped cw’eam!” Matt smiled toothily. Nick nodded, making a mental note to grab the sugar-free whipped cream from the fridge. 

Both littles were sat atop the kitchen countertops. Chris’ legs swinging and gently hitting the cabinet doors, Matt opted to play with a fidget cube instead.

As the eldest triplet concocted both littles cocoa exactly to their liking, he couldn’t help but smile as he reminisced on the day he had with his littles. Sure, a fork had been thrown in their plans when they woke up to rain- but they didn’t let that stop them.

“Alright boys! Cocoa’s ready!” Nick smiled, earning excited cheers from both his littles.

Caring for two littles was not an easy task, but Nick would always be more than willing to deal with double the trouble.

taglist !! :

@natedoeswife @blahbel668 @nicksloverrr @flow3rsturns13

@pkfferoo @pixxiies @mattsturnswhore @17welch17 @pinksikhewei

@v33angel @conspiracy-ash @hoes4matthew @elislytherpuffsturn

@mattsturnsgirlie @mattssturnz @littlestar44 @graceslittlecorner

@zivall @hrtz4alex2211 @bimbob1tch @sturnsxplr-25 @cherry-red-heart

@pr3ttyf4wn @frlinbruh @jazminepetit-homme @raynaaxx

@tyummyz @starri-nightss @cyberskulzzz @nicksbestie

@urfavbestiee @nicksloverrr @babybatxxx @ivysturnss

[arainmorn-art]

Deciphering: Chapter 5 - Charming

[Previous page]  [Masterpost]  [Last two pages of a chapter as you can't post more than 30 pics at once] Dang, 31 pages for a chapter. 99 in total. And we are just in the middle of my script... originally a "horndog" page was supposed to be a 35th page... oh well x')

So, this is a chapter, though technically this story doesn't have chapters, where Nicky realised that even openly flirting with Edgeworth won't help him XD He rocks the boat, he makes Edgie get flustered and blush, he almost kissed him, but this silver-haired twink is too hard to crack. Or too dense, who knows. It's a main intrigue afterall x) But we are coming back for a murder case and are getting closer Nicky's nightmare. But not only that. We'll see the flashback when he realised he fell in love with his best friend. Golly, it will be fun x)

Insta - https://www.instagram.com/arainmorn/

DeviantArt - https://www.deviantart.com/arainmorn/gallery

Twitter - https://twitter.com/ArainMorn_art

VK - https://vk.com/arainmorn

[drewsbuzzcut]

https://www.tumblr.com/drewsbuzzcut/737096003153461248/nick-and-dallas-have-a-lot-of-morning-sex

Can we get a blurb

Love In The AM

nick moldenhauer x dallas blankenburg

a so it goes blurb

warnings: SMUTT

The insistent pounding of Dallas’ bed frame hitting the wall and Nick fucking her into her mattress is enough to wake up anyone else in the girl’s apartment. Good thing Sienna is always leaving early to start her day- she’d be scarred.

Dallas is clung onto Nick, arms looped around his neck and legs haphazardly wrapped around his waist as he holds her by her hips to fuck into her with a controlled ease. Their morning usually starts like this- Nick nestled in her pink blankets and her hands wandering all over his bare chest until he wakes up to satiate her.

“Fuck. Fuck. Oh my god, Nicky. I’m going to cum,” she whines, body arching up off the bed.

Her fingernails start to dig into his skin, and Nick feels the tightening of his balls as he feels his orgasm start to approach. When Dallas finally gains some control over her pleasure, she raises her body as much as she can so she can attach her lips to his neck. She sucks his skin into her mouth, nipping and licking at him until he’s whimpering just as she is.

“Cum baby. Fuck, you feel so good. You’re so tight and so wet. I love it,” he moans, a stray finger circling her clit, making her writhe and cry out as she finally cums around his cock.

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop,” she begs, hips meeting his movements- thrust for thrust.

He grabs her hands, pinning them down next to the pillow below her head, his hips moving at a sickening pace. She continuously flutters around his length, her cum dripping onto the bed sheets.

“Cum in me. Please, baby. I want your cum,” she releases her hands, locking them around the back of his neck as she whispers hotly in his ear. Her bare breasts press into his chest, and he can feel his sanity start to slip away.

He quickly pulls out, ripping off the condom and flipping them over so he’s on his back now.

“Uhhhh, you’re so big. I feel so full,” she whimpers when she sinks down on him, feeling his thick head prod at that spongy spot.

“If you keep squeezing me, I’m not going to last too long,” he warns her.

“I don’t care. Cum in me, baby,” she responds, rocking her hips back and forth with her hands pressed to his chest.

She knows he’s close, she can tell by the slight trembles in his body and the way he keeps tilting his head back. She grabs one of his hands, placing it on her lower abdomen, so he can feel just how full she is.

“You feel that, Nicky? That’s your big cock making me feel so full. Now, I just need your hot cum filling me up, marking me as yours. I’m yours, always, but just think about the way I’ll be dripping. When you’re at practice, I’ll be here in bed, in your shirt, dripping your cum from my pussy. Cum in me, baby,” she leans down, whispering in his ear and kissing down his neck.

His hips drill up into her, getting off on her cries and moans. He keeps her still on his length as he paints her insides, feeling another orgasm start to bubble with the way her pussy contracts around him.

“Oh my god,” he breathes out, forehead lined with sweat and a spent Dallas draped over his body. They’re both boneless.

“You’re so sexy,” she says, picking herself up with a wince at the feeling of his half hard cock stirring inside of her. She cards her fingers through his hair, leaning down to kiss his lips.

“I don’t think I can go to practice now. There’s no way I’m moving. Not when you’re warming my cock, and definitely not when I know my cum is inside your pretty, little pussy,” he says in between kisses.

“We should start every morning like this,” she suggests playfully.

“I’ll get kicked off the team,” he retorts.

“I don’t know. I think I’m worth it,” she muses, rocking her hips at a teasing pace.

“Hell yeah you are,” he agrees, flipping her back on her back, ready to go another round until his alarm clock eventually goes off. Maybe then, he’ll peel himself away from his insatiable girlfriend.

a/n: I really love this! Enjoy!

[thisismeracing]

King of my heart | ms47 | part 02

Pairing: hamilton!reader (she/her) x mick schumacher

Warnings: curse words, twitter environment, mention of food, not proofread etc etc. Minors DNI!

summary: Y/n and Mick interactions are now being noticed by everyone and some people are ready to share all the details with the internet.

a/n: none of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps. everything else is made up by me and I do not give permission for it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

part. 01 | series masterlist | part 03

theofficialyn

liked by mickschumacher, lewishamilton and others

theofficialyn We worked day and night to create the confiest and safest boots without losing its fashion sense. I am really proud to announce that we are launching one more colletion 🤎 I am still testing all the possibilities and designs to deliver only the best, but soon enought these babies and the rest of our collection will be at the stores ready to create good memories along with you guys 🤍 ynthebrand is really grateful for all the love! Check our website and account for more infos.

view all 5430 comments

sunshineyn OMG THESE ARE FANTASTIC, YN, YOU KEEP OUTDOING YOURSELF!!!!

lewishamilton I keep waiting for you to design man shoes, would most def wear them all the time

disneyf1mick I see a certain golden retriever pilot lurking around the likes 👄

user00 I just find really funny how she’s outed as Lewis sister and suddently theres a new collection being launched…

⤷ carloscars omg yall like to theorize everything, get a grip!

⤷ ynpoptart she’s been talking about this launch for months now, the date was already set, the Lewis incident have nothing to do with it. That’s why she did not want people to know he is her brother, because there are some shitty people like you that will try to dimish her hard work. Honestly, I feel sorry for your fan base, must be a toxic environment.

ynfantastic what about the heels she was wearing last pic? 😫

⤷ sunshine198 I think she’s launching it next, or maybe it was just a test?

⤷ theofficialyn they are on this collection, love! will launch it soon 🤍

⤷ ynfantastic OMG SHE ACTUALLY ANSWERED, HEY QUEEN ILYSM

user10 would never use them, they look kinda ugly and unsafe as well.

mickschumacher

liked by georgerussell63, mercedesamgf1 and others

mickschumacher Good that everyone got the “crossed arms” memo @mercedesamgf1

view all 928 comments

schumachereign He looks waaaay too handsome ugh

⤷ f1racing2 toto, mick or the other guy?

⤷ schumachereign honestly, all of them lol

theofficialyn the energy is immaculate

⤷ ynnyc mother???? what are you doing here?

⤷ charlessainz2 god forbid but I already pictured her and mick dating, where are my fic writes at ✍🏾✍🏾✍🏾

georgerussell63 you guys rock! 🖤

theofficialyn stories

theofficialyn

liked by zendaya, mercedesamgf1 and others

theofficialyn Going through a list of vegan places 💚😋

view all 3,230 comments

mickschumacher 🐟🐟🐟

⤷ theofficialyn HAHAHAHA I HATE YOU!

⤷ f1fantastic your honor, they're in love.

⤷ potteryn they have their inside jokes already. It's their world, we’re just living in it

fan2 You look stunning 😭😭😭

lewishamilton The only reason I forgive you for not going with me is because you’re bringing it home as well 🤨

⤷ theofficialyn You’re the one who told me you did not wanna come!!!

⤷ abcdyn I wonder who she could be going with 😗

charles_leclerc I am counting on a bag of vegan donuts at my desk again this weekend to give me luck…just saying 🚶🏻

⤷ pierregasly he’s actually begging, yn

ynautumn how does it feel to be this pretty?

estebanocon 😍😍

⤷ charleslechair OMG WHAT IS THAT?? *nicki minaj voices*

⤷ norrisfav I thought Pierre was into this steal-your-girl thing not you, Esteban

ynandf1 the whole grid loves her and it shows

swiftieyln Im so happy seeing yn after she was outed as lewis sister, she looks less afraid to be herself, and she’s been feeding us sm I can only say thank you to the holy trinity

sainzsaint charles, pierre and esteban are here too, now y'all gonna say they're dating her as well?

⤷ estiebestie98 yes.

********************

make sure you like and reblog <3 feel free to talk to me as well, my inbox is always open!

wanna be tagged on my stories? click here

[frightenedcricket]

DECAY. PT 3: Rock Bottom?

Noah Sebastian x OC.

Summary: They say good things don't last and Abby is not the exception. The process is hard, even when Noah by her side.

Pt 1: The Fall. Pt2: Bring back the pieces.

Warnings: alcoholism, relapse. +18 (Very brief) Masturbation.

Noah walked in the room and frowned.

"Hey, where is Abbs?"

Nick looked up from his iPad and shook his head. "She has been working on something with Matt"

"Already checked." Noah sighed. There it was. Fear. Fear. Fear.

"The bus?"

"I'll go again, she wasn't there"

Noah left the venue and crossed the parking lot fast, his long legs allowing longer steps. He opened the door and jumped in the bus. It was empty. With a loud sigh, he grabbed his phone and pressed call. When he heard the buzz accompanied by a gasp, he turned on his heels.

"Abby?"

The only answer he got was a whimper.

"Abby" She had been having a rough week.

Noah closed the door behind him and walked to the bunks, moving to the lowest on the left. He knelt on the floor and slowly grabbed the curtain.

When the light hit her, she covered her face with her hands and tried to turn around. But Noah grabbed her shoulder.

"Abby"

"Go..."

He didn't like how she sounded.

"Abby, look at me" He grabbed her hand. "Hey, it's okay..."

"No... I fucked up..."

By the way she dragged the words, Noah knew what was going on.

"Oh Abby"

"I'm sorry"

Noah's heart broke.

"Come here, please"

"I don't want you to see me like this"

"It's okay. Come here, Abby"

She didn't resist too much, but got really nauseous when she tried to stand.

"Okay, I'm here"

Noah took her to the small toilet and she knelt in front of it. She emptied everything she had drank and the little she ate. Once she had finished, he gently cleaned her mouth.

Abby looked at him with teary eyes. She was pale and her hair was a mess. He could easily see that she had been crying for a while now.

"I'm sorry"

Noah wasn't sure what to say. He wouldn't say he saw this coming, but she had been doing so good recently that he started to expect it to happen. Good things don't last long.

"It's okay."

"It's not. I drank."

"What did you take, hm?"

"Beer. A lot"

Noah sighed. She kept insisting it was fine and she wanted everyone to behave normally. He would ban drinks in the bus if he had to.

"Come here"

Noah helped her stand and slowly guided her to the sofa. She stumbled, dragging her feet across the carpeted floor.

"Noah" She muttered when he made her sit. "Are you angry at me?"

"No" He said. "But from now... I need you to listen to me when I speak"

Abby blinked slowly.

Noah wandered around the bus gathering some stuff, crackers, a banana and water. Then he sat next to here.

"I feel like shit." She muttered.

"I know"

The door opened just when she was taking the first banana bite.

"You found her" Nicholas smile faded quickly. "Abby..."

Her eyes filled with tears again.

Noah had his elbows on his knees.

"How... Why?"

Nicholas asked the question. He said the words Noah couldn't date to say.

She sniffed. "We are going home" She sipped the water.

"And what's wrong with that?" Nicholas asked. His voice was so soft and sweet.

Noah looked down at her and showed her his hand. She slowly took it.

"I'll miss you"

"Oh, Abbs" Nicholas squeezed her knee in a comforting way.

Noah, on the other hand, knew she was lying. Well, maybe not a huge lie but she wasn't telling Nicky the truth. He understood, though.

"You know you are always welcomed with us. Whenever we go out, or meet, or whatever. You are welcomed. You are a part of the group"

She nodded. Her head felt heavy.

Noah found it difficult to speak, so he only gave her another cracker. She took it and smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"You won't be alone" He muttered. She feared to be alone with her thoughts. She feared to be alone and end up like this. So he wouldn't let that happen.

"Matt... He wanted you to... But well" Nicholas cleared his throat. "I'll go and help him"

Abby sobbed. "I'm so sorry, guys"

"Okay, Abbs. You will drink a bit more and eat a bit. And then wash your teeth and go to sleep" Noah said.

Nicky left, and Noah stayed with her until she fell asleep in her bunk. Until she was so exhausted from crying that her body gave up. Then he made sure the door was locked and she would be safe, he grabbed the few drinks left in the bus, and walked to the venue.

"What happened?" Matt was sharp and cold and Noah turned slowly to look at him.

"Relapse. That's what happened"

"This is... If she can't do it here she better stay at home for the next leg because..."

Noah felt the blood rush to his face.

"Are you stupid? Eh? Who do you think you are to judge her like that?"

No one actually believed that Noah could ever hit Matt, but he was huge and had been training.

"Man-"

"No. Don't you dare to talk about her like that. Don't even think about it" He growled with a pointing finger.

Jolly had stepped between them and Nicholas was grabbing Noah's arm.

"Noah... Man" Matt had stumbled back, his but now against a table. "I'm sorry"

"No. She is not doing this because she wants to. This is not her fault."

"Noah, hey" Nicholas pulled his arm a bit and the singer looked down at him. "We are all a bit nervous and concerned about her. We are tired and need to rest."

Noah was breathing fast and his jaw was clenched.

"Man, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. We've had a problem and I have been looking for her. I didn't... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound like that"

Noah looked at Matt.

"Okay"

"I'm sorry" The manager said again. "Is- is she okay? I thought she was doing good"

Noah's shoulders fell and shook his head.

"She can't be at home, Matt. She is better here. Don't... Don't even tell her that, yeah?"

Matt nodded.

"Will she stay in the bus?"

"I'm not sure. There are no more drinks in the bus by the way"

Everyone stayed in silent for a while. She had been doing so well that it was easier to pretend everything was alright. Now reality had given a hit. The first one.

"Is she asleep or..."

"She was drunk so I have given her some food and waited until she fell asleep" Noah muttered. Nicholas had loosened the grip on his arm.

"Why?"

Noah took a deep breath. "I'm who should tell you..."

Folio had glassy eyes.

"What if she does it once she is back at home for the break?"

"She won't be alone"

The drummer nodded.

"I'm sorry, Noah" Matt repeated.

"It's okay. I'm sorry too. I just... She scared me... That's all"

They could all see the worry on their friend's eyes.

"Last show and then a week at home" Jolly said in the most comforting way he could.

Noah nodded.

Later that day, some time before the show. The door opened and everyone in the green room turned. Abby was dressed in another stolen hoodie and some baggy jeans. She looked like she had showered - the best she could in that tiny shower- with her hair falling still wet over her shoulders.

"Hey"

Noah felt his heart beating hard. She had spent the whole day in the bus. Folio had brought her some take out and she had moved to the backroom alone with her headphones. She hadn't spoken a lot, only the necessary, but at least she had kept herself busy once the alcohol had started to come down.

"Hi" Folio walked to her and they hugged tight. "You smell good"

"Thanks" She said with a giggle that made everyone smile. Then, she kissed his cheek. "And for the chicken"

Folio pinched her cheek. "Power lunch"

Her smile fell and she took a deep breath. She could feel a big dark cloud above her. It had been an awful day, probably one of her worst. But she had homework to do now. Still side hugging Folio, Abby turned to the others.

"Guys... I owe you an apology"

"No-'

"Noah" She begged. "Just... I'm sorry. I have talked to my therapist this afternoon. I thought I was doing good but I clearly wasn't. I thought I could just go on with my life... But it doesn't help. It's not possible."

Noah lowered his head and focused on his black glove.

"I need this job. I will be back for the next leg. I need you guys. But... I still need to figure out how to do it so... I'm sorry if it affects any of you. I really am. " She took another deep breath. "I need you so much, guys. You are my family" She fanned her face to stop the tears. "And I'm sorry to do this right now but... I didn't want you out on the stage all worried. I'm okay now, the best I can be. But I'm fine. It's part of the process."

Folio kissed her temple.

"And I promise I'll help tomorrow" She pointed at Matt. "And fix that pedal"

Matt chuckled. "Yeah, you must have magic hands or something"

Nicholas walked to her and opened his arms. He was the first. Everyone, one by one, hugged her tight and made her laugh in their own way.

Noah was the last. He cupped her face and Abby shivered. Her mind paid too much attention to the glove against her cheek and his cold fingers against the other.

"You have all of us" He whispered.

"I know" She grabbed his wrist and kissed his palm.

Noah leaned and kissed her lips softly.

"And don't ever be sorry-"

"Noah..." She complained.

"C'mon..."

"Just... Give me a hug, yeah?"

Noah smiled and hugged her tight, so tight her bones almost break.

"We'll figure it out" He whispered.

"Okay, time to go. Abbs, are you coming to the console?"

"Uh, yeah" She got on her tip toes once again and pecked Noah's lips. It left him with a giddy and fun feeling and a silly mile. "Good luck, and enjoy"

She turned around and gave each band member a kiss on the cheek and her best wishes before leaving with Matt.

"Man, how whipped are you?" Jolly was smirking.

"Uh... Is it that obvious?"

"We can pretend you are not blushing, if you prefer" Nicholas teased.

"I hate you"

The following day was full of chaos, packing and leaving everything perfectly controlled for the next show. It left them all exhausted and they ended up having take out in the bus. And then they had to drive home.

"Abbs" Noah whispered. She had fallen asleep on his shoulder. "We are here"

When she opened her eyes and looked around, anxiety filled her veins. Home. Her home. Her flat. The small apartment she lived in, crowded with stuff and a single bedroom. The place she lived alone.

"Earth to Abbs?"

She looked up at Noah.

"Let's go?"

"Uh, yeah" She worked on automatic mode. Saying goodbye to the guys was so hard, even if they would see eachother next week. When she turned to her hardest goodbye, she found Noah leaving his suitcase on the floor, right next to hers.

"There is another one in there but... Leave it there. I'll go home tomorrow for lunch. Right, Abbs?"

"Are you... Uh... Yeah, okay" Abby wanted to cry. He was staying.

"Okay then... See you tomorrow, everyone."

They walked in silence, Abby carrying her two enormous suitcases and Noah one of his and her bag. The elevator took hours to arrive. "I hate this thing" Noah groaned. He always took the stairs.

Then, she opened the door and the weight fell on her shoulders.

"Noah, you don't need to stay" She said turning around. "Maybe the guys haven't left yet and you can..."

Noah closed the door behind him and walked to her with slow steps.

"We need to have a talk, but I'm gonna stay. I'm gonna stay until you tell me to go away"

Abby pressed her lips together and looked down at her feet. She didn't want him to go but she didn't want to keep him for herself. Noah had his own life, his house. He had his own bed to sleep in and...

"Where are you going to sleep?" She muttered.

Should they sleep together? Was that a good idea? Were they on the same page?

Noah looked a bit surprised, but he looked at the sofa.

"There"

She wanted to tell him it was uncomfortable, to go home, to not worry. But she didn't want him to leave her alone. She was feeling so selfish.

"Or..." Noah wasn't sure how far he could go, he tested the waters anyways. "We could watch something on TV and if we fall asleep..."

The idea of his arms around her was awesome.

"Yeah"

Noah smiled and walked to her. "How are you feeling?"

"Not the best"

"Why don't you shower and change. I'll order dinner and I'll take the shower while we wait"

"Okay"

Noah leaned and gave her a sweet kiss.

"I can do that, right? I have been doing it all the time"

"You can"

Noah tilted her head back and gave her a deeper kiss, his body towered over hers and it made her knees weak. But he stopped. He stopped before things went to far and smiled sweetly.

Abby didn't say anything. But she was flustered when she arrived to the bathroom. Her hands were shaking and her mouth dry. Noah would be the end of her. He was everything she needed and wanted.

The shower didn't help calming her racing thoughts. The warm water was something her tight muscles needed. But it didn't help her mind to calm down.

After washing her hair, she was left alone with her thoughts and nothing else to do, but not wanting to leave the shower just yet. Her mind was racing, over and over again around the same places. And those places had a common factor. Almost unconsciously, she let her hands wander over her body. She was trying to concentrate. Olivia had been very clear of how to take this steps. Abby focused on her hands, the skin they covered, the corners they reached, the cold tile against her back when she leaned into the wall, the warm water all over her, the expert circles her finger drew on her clit, how her nipples hardened under her touch... And right when she was reaching the climax, he popped up in her mind. Noah's brown eyes and long tattooed fingers were probably her last thought before finishing.

Abby came down panting and feeling ticklish all over her body. Her knees were shaky and goosebumps covered all her skin. She stopped the water and looked around, the idea of what had just happened sitting on her mind.

"Fuck" She breathed out with a laugh. An incredulous laugh. She just had an orgasm, something that hadn't happened for so long. And... She had come while thinking of Noah which was something new. She had avoided it so hard, even stopping when he was the only thing he could think of. But this time she let go and well, it was history.

Noah had been standing there for a long minute, frozen with his phone and hand and the words hanging from his tongue. He was ready to order dinner when he heard that. A moan. The softest moan he had ever heard. And much to his surprise, it was followed by a name. His name. Abby had just moaned his name and suddenly Noah couldn't even speak.

His heart was furious on his chest and his hands sweaty. He was lucky the shock hadn't let the blood travel lower. He was so surprised his body had stopped working. He was full on flight or fight mode by the time he heard her leaving the shower.

Noah cleared his throat and tried to compose himself before doing some noise to pretend he had just walked there.

"Abbs" He wouldn't tell anyone his voice shook when he spoke.

"Uh, yeah" Abby was drying her hair but the thrill still lasted.

"Lemon chicken and rolls?"

"Oh yes, please"

"Okay"

She would have to look at him and pretend she hadn't just came to his though. And he would have to look at her and pretend he hadn't just heard her moaning his name.

Noah was way more quiet. He didn't want to, but in the end the thoughts were stronger than him. He didn't make a single noise, he only bit his arm so hard it almost bleeds. Luckily, the tattoos hid the mark.

"What is all of this?" The image had triggered him enormously. There were beer cans all over the kitchen and a few bottles.

"Uh... I'm giving the guys all of this. I think it's stupid to throw it down the drain. So... If they promise to be responsible I'll give it to them"

Noah smiled at her and hugged her from behind. "I'm proud of you, you know?"

"I relapsed literally yesterday"

"But here you are now" It was a bit uncomfortable with his height, but he leaned over her shoulder. "This is a lot, Abbs. Even if you don't feel like that right now"

Abby covered his hands with hers.

"What did you think about me yesterday?"

Noah sighed and made her look around.

"That you had been doing so good that it was strange"

She frowned and he cupped her cheek.

"Just think about our lifestyle and the places we visit every day, and what did Olivia and that A. A. people tell you to avoid"

Abby looked down at his chest and found the edge of his shirt to play with. In the end he was right. He had been for a long time.

"You are strong"

"I'm not"

Noah made her look up.

"You are. It's just your mind playing games. It's trying to trick you."

"I would be crying myself to sleep and drinking half of this"

"Oh really? Because a second ago you were telling me how you were getting rid of them"

"Well, but you are here to keep an eye on me and..."

Noah pressed his thumb to her lips.

"I'm not here as a caregiver or something."

Abby blinked slow.

"I'm here to make you company" Noah squeezed her cheeks together. "I'm here because you don't want to be alone"

"You are scared something bad may happen to me" She muttered.

Noah took a shaky breath.

"I am" He confessed. "You said you didn't want to be alone because of what may happen. So you won't be. And it won't happen"

"I won't always have you"

"Maybe not physically, but I'm always a call away. I'm always gonna be there for you"

Abby closed her eyes and a tear fell.

"Don't..."

"You really what this, don't you?" She asked.

"What? To be with you? Of course"

Abby opened her arms on his chest.

"I want to make sure we are on the same page and... I know we said we are moving slow but you are in my house now, and we have been like kissing nonstop and maybe that's now slow"

Noah kissed her forehead. "I'm comfortable with that if you are"

"I am"

"We don't have to follow steps, you know. Taking things slow can be just following out own rhythm"

Abby nodded slowly. "Okay, I'd like that"

Noah kissed her softly. "I love you"

She giggled. "Can't believe we are dropping love bombs before even making it official"

Noah laughed loudly. "I mean. I love you as a friend"

"Oh wow! Friendzone?"

"Oh shit! No! I didn't mean it like that, you little shit" He said pinching her. "I mean that I already loved you as a friend before this"

Abby grinned.

"Before what?"

"Oh fuck, I truly hate you right now" He took a deep breath. "Before falling in love with you"

She squeezed his cheeks and kissed him hard.

"I love you too" She said over his lips. "And I will always be thankful for this. Wherever our lives take us, however it goes"

Noah couldn't stop the smile. He was so in for all of it.

Pt 4. Glue for a broken heart.

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.18

Summary: Wednesday goes with you to visit your family. It's loud, it's chaotic, it's ridiculous, they're too accepting, it's all just too much. And the worst part? She almost enjoys it.

Word Count: 10.7k Warnings: Swearing, mentions of grief Pairing: Wednesday x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist) Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @alexkolax @thenextdawn @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @parkersmyth @alilbitlesbian @irish-piece-of-trash @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets @myfturn @rockwyn @bigbadsofty07

Wednesday was starting to regret agreeing to meet your family.

You had called them that next morning, going outside to talk for what ended up being three whole hours. She had watched you pace the yard, lay on the grass, kick rocks, and use your wings to hover above the ground for short spans of time. How you managed to stay on the phone for that long, she had no earthly idea. But then you came in and said they were more than happy for her to visit for two weeks, and everything was set.

After packing, she was sitting in the library waiting for you to get back. You had made one more weekend trip to see Nicky before going further South where it would be more difficult to make the trip. It was admirable how you always found a way to see him no matter how far away you were.

And now you were back, practically jogging to the car with the bags and talking as if your life depended on it. Maybe to you it did. Or was it your nerves taking over and not giving anyone time to argue or disagree? Whatever it was, you seemed excitedly nervous.

You had tried to convince them to take the train, but Wednesday wasn’t having it. Take the train down, then we’ll head to the bus, then Tio will pick us up from the bus station, you had said. The entire Addams family had let you know that it wasn’t necessary, Lurch could drive you both down. It was simpler that way. It took a bit of convincing but you reluctantly agreed.

The closer you got to your house, the more nervous you got. Your incessantly shaking leg was almost enough to rock the whole car when it would pull up to stops. There was a tuneless hum that started to pick up as time went on. In what turned out to be the final stretch, Wednesday noticed you even started to pick at your fingers. A nasty habit, really.

“You can stop down here,” you said to Lurch before he could get the car started up a dirt path. “It’s easier to walk.”

Wednesday gave you a look, but you just shrugged and gave her a hesitant smile. She hoped you knew she wasn’t questioning your motives, just the fact that it appeared that there would be a hike to your house. Would it not be better to drive up?

“Your ancient car will get stuck,” you said when  you practically shoved Wednesday out of the car. “I can grab the bags.”

And grab them you did, slinging your duffel bag over your shoulder before picking up Wednesday’s suitcase. You leaned over and gave an enthusiastic “Bye, Lurch!” before watching the car pull away. Only once it was out of sight did she feel you reach down and grab her hand. Not intertwining your fingers, but simply holding it and leading her up the dirt path.

“They know not to hug,” you said, “but Pop and Grandpa might still reach out for a handshake.” The path got steeper. “And Tio might still go for a hug, he doesn’t really listen.” How did any of you traverse this path regularly?

You continued to talk as you led her further up the path that was becoming more and more surrounded by trees. Pretty soon the branches covered the path, creating almost an archway until she could see a house in the distance. A log cabin, more accurately. It sat in the middle of a clearing along with a few smaller buildings; a barn and what looked to be two or three tool sheds. The path continued to a crooked gate, and you let go of her hand to open it and usher her in before closing it behind you.

“Don’t mind the dogs,” you said as you gestured your head over to the right. Yes, there within another contained fence were three dogs that looked bigger than her. “We’re pet-sitting for the neighbours.” It was impressive that they weren’t barking.

Oh, if only your family was as well behaved.

The front screen door of the house was thrown open with such force it nearly shook off its hinges. Instinctively, Wednesday took a step back and you quickly maneuvered yourself slightly in front of her, just enough to be a barrier. She was not prepared for the amount of voices or people that came out of a cabin that did not look big enough to hold them all.

“You’re here!” A small voice screamed.

You dropped both bags and stepped forward with outstretched arms which were almost instantly filled with two young children with matching tight curly hair. They giggled as you squeezed them tight, alternating kisses on their cheeks. The rest of your family was close behind as you set the children down.

“She’s real?!” The oldest girl said in an accented voice. Australian, maybe.

“I told you,” the oldest boy retorted with a smirk. “You owe me ten bucks.”

“I think she’s pretty,” a younger girl said with a smile in Wednesday’s direction. She had almost forgotten how unsettling little kids could be.

“So does Y/N,” the last boy said with a smirk.

“Okay, that’s enough,” you cut in quickly, taking your place in front of Wednesday once again. She noticed the blush on your cheeks. “Pace yourselves.”

“Sorry,” they all mumbled.

Wednesday listened dutifully as you introduced everyone; it was overwhelming, to say the least. There were too many people, too many names, too many things to keep track of. Part of her wondered why it even mattered if she met all of them or remembered who they were. Sure, they were your family, but they clearly weren’t your blood.

But as she watched your face, saw your toothy smile and sparkling eyes and heard your laugh, she realised it didn’t matter. They were your family whether they were blood or not. And truthfully, you had met her family, as large as it was. You had met as many extended family members as you could at the Addams’ Ball a few months ago. Surely she could meet the few people that you called family.

“Go take these inside,” you said, handing the duffel bag and the suitcase to… Alex and Daniel? Possibly? “Be very careful with Wednesday’s bag.”

“But not yours?” The younger boy - Daniel? - asked with a smile.

“Get inside,” you huffed, using your hands to guide all the children back inside.

A sigh fell from your lips once the kids were far enough away. Wednesday didn’t know how to describe it, but you looked tired already. Not in a bad way, you didn’t look sad, but there was a weariness on your face. Almost as if you looked older, a little more worn.

“Welcome home, baby,” an older woman said in a Southern accent as she walked closer and pulled you into a hug. You practically towered over her when you hugged her back.

“Hey Momma,” you said before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Everyone okay?”

“Everyone’s fine, baby bird,” she said with a smile, pulling back. “Lovely to finally meet you, Miss Addams.”

“You as well,” Wednesday said. It was awkward, a little unusual to be called Miss Addams so casually.

"I'm sorry it's so crazy," your mother continued while wiping her hands off on an apron tied around her waist. "Y/N told us you weren't big on touch. The kids will settle down in a day or two."

"It's quite alright-"

“-Where is mi pollito?” A man called out, and Wednesday saw your brows furrow as you let out a huff before being bearhugged by a man almost as tall as you. He must be your Tio. “You look terrible, what happened?”

“I came to visit your sorry ass,” you mumbled back, but Wednesday could see the smallest smile on your face. “Do you know how exhausting that is?”

“Behave,” another man’s voice called out, thick and slow and almost painfully Southern. Much thicker than your mother’s. He gave her a toothy grin; even though he was missing a few. “Nice ta meet ya, Wensdy.”

“Pop,” you said with a sigh after noticing what was most likely confusion on Wednesday’s face.

“What?” He said. “That’s how ya say it, ain’t it?” You both smiled at each other.

"You know it's not," you replied quietly.

"Did she prepare you for this?" Your father asked her, to which she shook her head. No, you hadn’t prepared her for this, not in the slightest. "Figures," he tsked.

“Where’s everybody else?” You asked, trying to change the subject.

“Inside,” your Tio said. “Abuelita is making tamales and C is bossing her around.”

“Lord help us,” your mother said with an exhausted sigh. “Everyone inside before they kill each other.”

The adults walked back to the house, leaving you and Wednesday standing in the yard. Her heart felt like it was going to explode. That was far too much all at once, far too many people. How did you live like this? How did you manage to keep yourself sane when there were so many people around at all times?

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, “I told them not to come out all at once.”

You almost looked guilty. Was this what you had talked to them about for so long the other week? She almost hoped not, that meant you cared. It meant you cared a lot and took her preferences into account. That was terrifying. To know that you cared enough to tell your entire family to be careful. It was almost painful, really.

“Do you need a minute?” You asked when Wednesday stayed silent. “It’s crazy inside, so we can sit outside for a minute if you need to.”

What she needed was for you to stop being so considerate, it was becoming uncomfortable. Yes she wanted a minute, that was a lot of people. But she didn’t want you to think she couldn’t handle it. She was an Addams, she could handle anything that was put in front of her.

“Let’s go,” she said before grabbing your hand.

For safety, of course.

"Okay then,” you chuckled softly, dragging her to the house and through the screen patio door. "Buckle up, Addams."

You were right. It was absolute chaos inside. The small entry hallway had seemed normal with framed photographs lining the wall - she noticed a few with you in it, you looked young - but once you brought her to the main room, she understood what you meant. Children’s toys littered the floor, she could hear everyone talking, sounds were coming from the kitchen that was connected to the main room.

It was too loud, and too much, and everything all at once.

“Try not to trip,” you said as you pulled her again, heading to the open kitchen. She did her best to step over the toys. Something cracked when she stepped down; she hoped it wasn't broken.

“Be careful,” Daniel said; he was sitting on the couch with his nose in a book. “Abuelita is on the warpath.”

“Great,” you mumbled, “she better behave.”

When you finished pulling her into the kitchen, she noted almost all the adults were there, plus a few she hadn’t seen yet. A man that looked practically ancient - possibly older than Grandmama - was standing near the counter with a grin. His fangs were prominently displayed when he laughed. Then there was a woman that looked a little older than your father. Her black skin and stunningly coiled hair matched the twins; it must be your Auntie C. Then there was the old Mexican lady arguing with your aunt while expertly preparing tamales.

Your Abeulita, of course.

“Welcome home, puișor,” your grandfather called from across the kitchen in yet another accented voice, silencing everyone that had previously been talking. “And it's a pleasure to meet you, Wednesday."

“About time,” your aunt said with a sigh, “Abuelita needs some help.” She stopped for just a second to look at Wednesday with raised brows and a knowing smirk. "Well, aren't you cute."

“Why can't you help?” You shot back before Wednesday could question the comment. Tio laughed from his spot at the table where he was also helping with tamales.

“If I help, I’m gonna kill someone,” she answered before looking over at Wednesday. “You’re Latina, you can help too.”

“C.”

“Watch it,” you and your father reprimanded together.

“Am I wrong?” She asked.

“You can’t just say that.”

“Who says I can’t?”

“She just got here-”

“-That’s enough!” Your father shouted again, bringing yours and your aunt’s argument to a sudden halt. “C, take a hike,” he said in a calmer voice, “Y/N, help your Abuelita.” Your aunt sighed and walked past Wednesday to get to the living room.

“I was hoping he would do that,” she whispered to Wednesday before laughing and walking away. You pulled Wednesday over to the table, gave your Abuelita a kiss on the cheek, and everyone got to work.

Oh, Wednesday liked your aunt. If that was who she was going to get to interact with the entire trip, this was going to be fun. Someone who also liked to raise hell, question authority, do as she wished. It was a stark contrast to you who, even though you very much did all of those things, you still obeyed, you desired that approval. It was beyond evident in the way you preened when any of the adults told you “good job” or any sort of positive verbal reinforcement.

From her spot at the table, she was right in front of your Tio and right beside your Abuelita. Your Abuelita and Tio showed her how to make the tamales, and she had to hold her laughter in when they refused to teach you in English. She caught on quickly and started talking to them in Spanish, which got another rise out of you.

"You know I don't know all of those words," you huffed after Abuelita explained precisely how to do the next step. In Spanish, of course.

Abuelita only laughed in response, and Tio gave Wednesday a wink when she met his eyes. She liked them, she decided. Liked the casual way they went about the chaos, picking and choosing when to interact with others, more often than not just minding their own business. It was respectable. It helped keep her heart from jumping up her throat in anxiety.

Dinner was an entirely different affair altogether and Wednesday, for what would be the first of many instances during the trip, was unsure of what to do. After all the prep, all the nonstop, loud talking, all the cooking, it was finally time to eat. Instead of everyone sitting at the table, they scattered. Grabbing their plates, getting their food, and going off to the living room or outside or wherever else they could find a space.

She sat on one of the chairs in the kitchen and watched you while the chaos unfolded. Took note of the way you had Alysah on your hip with a plate in your hand, talking with her and getting her food. Then after placing her on the floor in the living room, you did the same with Jamie, even though he seemed far more talkative. You looked older when you were helping them. More responsible, even.

“What do you want?” You asked, drawing Wednesday out of her thoughts. She hadn’t even seen you come over. “I’ll make your plate.”

“I’m not helpless,” Wednesday shot back; she noticed your aunt chuckle, clearly eavesdropping.

“I know, Wends,” you said with a slight uptick of your mouth, “now what do you want?”

She glared at you for a moment, waiting for you to take the offer back, but you didn’t. With a sigh, she told you, and you mouthed a “thank you” before standing back up and grabbing everything. This, she realised, is what you enjoyed. Being helpful, doing things for others. Where had you learned it? Where had you learned to be so selfless?

And how had you taken a liking to her, who lived quite selfishly?

The thought made her sick to her stomach. She couldn’t bring herself to eat when her stomach was rolling and she couldn’t stop feeling like you were one day going to realise she was the opposite of you. She wasn’t going to devote her life to helping others, she wasn’t going to be like her mother, that just wasn’t who she was.

Thankfully no one pointed out how little she had eaten.

Getting ready for bed was another affair entirely. After everyone had sat in the living room and talked and settled after dinner, it was time to get the kids to bed. Wednesday waited dutifully for you to show her where to go, feeling completely lost in the house. Your grandfather pulled you aside and talked to you for a moment and she noted the way he eyed her and, even though a smile pulled at his lips, he shook his head and you sighed.

“Try not to hate me,” you said when you walked back over to Wednesday, “but you’re bunking with Emily and Hailey.”

“And you?” She asked, doing her best to maintain her composure. Your sisters seemed kind, and she had roomed with Enid, she just… wasn’t sure how to interact with them.

“I’m on the couch,” you sighed. “Grandpa made it clear; no sharing rooms.”

“Because?” She asked with a raised brow.

“No sharing rooms with partners until you’re married,” you said with a shrug. “He’s old school.”

Wednesday nodded along before allowing you to grab her hand and lead her up the stairs. Part of her felt humiliated that your entire family could see you both holding hands; public displays of affection was not something she enjoyed. But the other part of her felt comfort that you were staying with her and making sure she didn't feel overwhelmed. Well, she did feel overwhelmed, but you were doing your best.

“You’ll be in my bed,” you said when you finally brought her to the room, and she almost felt right at home.

It gave off the same energy as Enid’s side of the dorm. Pinks and purples and rainbows covered the entire room. How did you manage to sleep in it? Bunk beds were on one wall while the other held a single bed covered in too many blankets. Clearly yours. Her suitcase was already sitting at the foot of the bed.

“I’ll be on the couch downstairs if you need me, okay?” You said after everyone had brushed their teeth and gotten settled. “And the girls make great company.”

“It’s like a sleepover!” Emily shouted from the bottom bunk.

“You’ll pay for this,” Wednesday whispered to you before you walked out.

“Good luck,” you said in a sing-songy voice. “Good night, girls!”

“Good night!” They called back.

It was going to be a long night.

Your bed was too soft, it felt like she was going to sink through to the floor. The blankets were also too soft, and nowhere near as warm as you were. Not that she was cold, but for some unknown reason, it was unusual to be sleeping away from you. Maybe it was the fact that she was in your bed without you, she wasn’t sure.

Her eyes roamed your side of the room. There were two or three posters taped to the ceiling, bands that she didn’t know about. A few photos hung from a piece of string going across the wall over the bed, each one a photo of you with someone else. She couldn’t tell in the dark, but one looked like a photo of you and Nicky when you were younger.

Where had Nicky slept when he had come home? Did he sleep with Alex and Daniel the same way you roomed with Hailey and Emily? Or was it completely different? His presence, from what she had seen, was still littered throughout the house in picture frames. How had everyone else handled him being gone for so long?

The train of thought was going down a dangerous path, and Wednesday felt her heart starting to race again. Would your presence have been remembered the same way if you had been in his position? If that werewolf had hurt you worse than it had, would your family treat it the same? Would you be remembered in photographs that would hang on the walls?

She needed you before her mind started to convince her that you were the one gone, not Nicky.

Her brain raced with thoughts, planning how she could get away with you coming up, or her going down. She couldn’t simply forgo the rules your grandfather had laid out, it was clearly a well established one. No, there had to be a reason, something she could get away with.

Ah. She had a brilliant idea.

She waited just a moment, listening to the hushed, even breaths coming from your sisters before letting out a scream. Not too loud as to wake everyone else up, but for your sisters to also scream and wake up. She had to push down her smile when your sisters jumped out of bed.

“Are you okay?” Hailey asked as she practically fell onto the floor and padded over.

“Did you have a bad dream?” Emily asked, peeking over the side of the bunk bed.

“Yes,” Wednesday said, doing her best to make her voice sound sleepy. “It was a terrible nightmare.”

“I get those sometimes too,” Emily said.

“You should sleep with Y/N,” Hailey mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Her accent was thicker when she was half-asleep.

“She makes the bad dreams go away,” Emily chimed in as she climbed down the ladder.

“Maybe you’re right,” Wednesday said, sitting up and planting her feet on the floor. “I suppose it’s worth a try.” She should have felt an ounce of guilt for using your sisters in her devious plan.

She didn't.

“Come on,” Emily said. Wednesday tried not to flinch when she felt a cold little hand grab her own. “We’ll take you to her.”

The entire house seemed to creak under the three sets of feet making their way down the carpeted hallway. Wednesday would need to learn where those spots were so she could avoid them over the next two weeks. Then down the carpeted stairs that squeaked every two steps; an easy pattern to memorise. One turn down the hall and there you were on the living room couch.

She was glad it was so dark because then your sisters would have seen her smile. You were completely sprawled out on the couch, the single blanket tangled around your legs, one of which was hanging off and the other was hoisted onto the back of the couch. An arm was also hanging off the couch while your other was over your head and your mouth was slightly open. She could hear your soft snores.

Hailey walked forward with a purpose while Emily continued to hold Wednesday’s hand. The older girl kicked your foot just once and your snore cut off quickly as you sat straight up. Your hair was a mess and your eyes were wide and unseeing.

“Who's hurt?” You asked immediately, trying to stand up. Your legs got stuck in the blanket around your legs and you fell to the ground. Hard. “Fuck.”

“No one is hurt,” Hailey said. She didn’t even bother helping you up to your feet.

“What happened?” You groaned as you managed to push yourself up, the blanket falling from around your waist and legs onto the floor. Wednesday turned her gaze away when she noticed you were only wearing boxers and a loose tank.

“Wednesday had a bad dream,” Emily said as she finally pulled Wednesday closer.

“Is that so?” You asked, your voice sounding more awake and your eyes seemingly searching into her soul. “A bad dream?”

“She screamed,” Hailey said.

“Screamed?” You asked, your eyes starting to crinkle at the corners.

“It was horrifying,” Wednesday said with a tilt of her head.

“Must have been,” you continued.

“I told her you scare off the bad dreams,” Emily said proudly.

“You’re right,” you said with a smile as you patted the top of her head. In turn, Emily gave Wednesday’s hand for you to hold. Thankfully you did. “Thank you for bringing her down.”

“Let’s go back to bed,” Hailey said, reaching her own hand out to Emily. “Good night.”

“Have good dreams, Wednesday,” Emily whisper-shouted before they rounded the corner and went back to their room.

“You screamed?” You asked after a few moments, turning to look at her. “Really?”

“I’ve been known to have nightmares on occasion,” she defended.

“You like nightmares,” you argued.

“It was exponentially more terrifying than normal.”

“You’re so full of shit,” you said quickly.

You fell back onto the couch, but your interlocked fingers caused her to fall down with you. With a skill that came from someone who regularly slept on the couch, you hooked your foot underneath the blanket and brought it back up. Your back was pressed against the back of the couch and Wednesday quickly fit herself to your position.

“Stop terrorising my sisters,” you mumbled as you wrapped your arm around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer.

“Would you prefer I terrorise your brothers?” She asked, to which you only chuckled.

“Good night, Wednesday.”

She didn’t verbally answer, just pulled your arm tighter around her and let herself drift off to sleep.

—---

The next few days went off without a hitch. Yes, everyone was still too loud and too much and there were just too many people in general, but it got easier. Emily was really the only one that was handsy with Wednesday, aside from you, and even that was simply holding hands. It was uncomfortable at first, but she quickly got used to it.

The adults in your family were kind as well. Your Tio made it a point to talk to her all the time, usually in Spanish, and even played a few songs on the guitar for her. All the younger kids did their dances, laughing to the music. That too was unusual for Wednesday, but it seemed like something that happened regularly in the house.

You had gotten a scolding from your grandfather once he realised Wednesday was sleeping down on the couch with you. She couldn’t hear the discussion, but could see the genuine attempt to persuade him. It didn’t appear to be working until Hailey cut in, telling her piece, and eventually your grandfather sighed and nodded.

She pretended not to notice you slip some cash into Hailey’s hand.

It was a change, a rather big one in fact, to live in a house where everyone had designated chores. Not that Wednesday was incapable or unwilling, but she had grown up with Lurch. Now she was helping you take care of the animals you were pet sitting, cleaning out the stable which was currently housing two horses, a dairy cow, and more than a handful of goats.

Those goats were the devil’s spawn, that’s what Wednesday believed.

“When are they leaving?” Wednesday asked when the grey goat - Steve - bumped into the back of her legs again.

“Steve is ours,” you said with a smile as you continued brushing one of the horses. “So he’s staying.”

“Of course he is,” Wednesday mumbled, turning to glare at Steve. He simply glared back before ramming into her leg.

It took everything in her power not to lock him in one of the stalls.

“Don’t mess with him,” you said, finally turning around. It was as if you had read her thoughts. “This is his house.”

“He needs to treat his guests better,” Wednesday grumbled again. She could feel him chewing on her shoelace. “The wrong person might turn him into dinner.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you said with a glare as you put your tools back to their proper place. This, Wednesday realised, was one of the few places you stayed organised and everything was back in its proper place.

“One more chance,” she said.

Steve rammed the back of her knees, forcing her to stumble forward.

Oh, he was going to be dinner before she left this place.

Everyone in your family became increasingly casual as time went on. No more “Miss Addams,” no more watching what they said (although your aunt never did), no more niceties for the sake of being polite. They gave her separate chores from you, treated her no different than the other kids, even berated her if she argued with Alex. It was torturous.

“Kids in the car,” your father called out one afternoon while everyone was sitting on the ground playing Monopoly. Wednesday swore she had never seen such violence in her life. It was beautiful.

“Where are we going?” Alex asked as he happily swept everything off the board to a chorus of “heys” and “seriously?”

“Gotta pick somethin’ up in town,” he said, “figured y’all might want some ice cream.”

Both you and Wednesday flinched at the screams and cheers that came from everyone’s mouths. It died down quickly enough when your father ushered everyone outside. You took your time gathering the pieces of the game and putting it all away, your face entirely emotionless.

Wednesday knelt down to help you, using it more as an excuse to keep an eye on you than to actually help. The past week had given her plenty of time to learn some of your tells, and one of them was keeping your face neutral when something potentially triggering came up. She actually felt proud of herself for catching this one.

“You can fly and meet us there,” Wednesday offered. You didn’t look up, but she took note of the miniscule movement near the corner of your mouth.

“I’m good,” you said softly, “it’s a short trip.” The game was finally picked up and you turned your head to look at her with a closed-mouth smile. “But thank you.”

You didn’t give her a chance to reply before grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet, guiding her out of the house. A chorus of adults called out their “see ya laters” as the patio door swung shut. The older two were relaxed in the bed of the truck while the younger ones were buckled in safely in the cab.

“Hop in,” you said, pulling Wednesday’s hand to ease her into the bed of the truck with Alex and Hailey. It was uncomfortable climbing into it, but she managed and you were quick to follow suit.

You plopped yourself down and knocked on the back window three times, and off you went. All three of you looked far too relaxed and comfortable, as if this wasn’t your first time. Clearly it wasn’t, of course, but you couldn’t have made it more obvious.

On the other hand, Wednesday was surprisingly nervous. She had never ridden in the back of a truck before, hadn’t felt the wind blow her hair around or hear it rushing past her ears. The only thing keeping her sane was your arm wrapped tight around her back, holding her as close as you could without outright pulling her into your lap.

It was about a 25 minute drive into town; she had never realised you lived so far away from civilization. That must have been nice, it explained why you could have so many people in one house. She understood the desire to be away, her own family lived away from the hustle and bustle as well. 

You, Alex, and Hailey were all standing up and hopping out of the truck before it pulled to a complete stop; Wednesday wouldn’t admit it put a lump in her throat, but you seemed confident enough. Only once the truck was at a full stop did you reach out to help, grabbing her by the waist and lifting her out and back to the ground.

The warmth of your hands was comforting.

“Alright Big Bird, you’re in charge,” your father said as he handed you a small wad of cash. “I’ll meet y’all back here in half an hour.”

“Yes sir,” you said with a nod, and he started walking down the small sidewalk. “Alright team, buddy up and let’s go.”

Clearly this was something you all did often, because everyone seemed to move like a well oiled machine. Hailey and Alex stood near each other while you let one of the twins on your back while you carried the other. Emily and Daniel went to either side of Wednesday and grabbed each of her hands. It was difficult to fight the instinct to pull away.

“So we don’t get lost,” Emily said with a smile. Wednesday looked down at both of her linked hands before nodding once. It was sound logic, she supposed.

“Lead the way, Lex,” you called out, and the group started moving.

The little hands holding hers were warm, but nowhere near like yours. Although she would admit, she was getting disgustingly accustomed to it at this point. Before you, she would have found this whole trip unnecessary. Your buddy system, your carrying the twins, going for ice cream, the whole thing. But everyone was smiling and talking and you looked almost peaceful as you listened to the twins ramble about one thing or another.

She supposed it wasn’t all that bad.

“Hey Johnson clan,” the kid behind the counter called out when everyone walked into the small ice cream parlor. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, Bo,” you answered as you set the twins on the floor. “How ya been?”

“Not too bad,” he - Bo - said with a smile. “The usual?”

“That’d be great,” you said, and Bo nodded once before getting started on whatever “the usual” was. “Get settled, I'll bring it over."

Wednesday let everyone lead her to a booth near the window - rather similar to the booth she frequented at the Weathervane - as she watched you approach the counter. You talked to Bo, casually leaning against the counter while he worked. There must have been some sort of acquaintanceship there for you to act so nonchalant. Did you smile at her like that when she wasn't watching?

"Uh oh," Daniel said.

The whole group turned their heads when the bell above the door rang. Three high schoolers walked in, one girl and two boys. Their overly flashy jackets were enough to give Wednesday a migraine, but what caught her attention was the way your body froze when you caught the girl's eye. Who was she, Wednesday wondered.

"That's Ash," Daniel said aloud. How had he known her thoughts? "Y/N's ex."

Oh. Instead of the usual rushing of her pulse where you were concerned, her heart now felt frozen. You had never mentioned an ex, at least not to her. Wednesday supposed she was pretty, though quite the opposite of herself. More boisterous, obnoxiously bubbly, like she wanted to be Enid but could never pull it off. How had your taste changed so drastically, because Wednesday was nothing like that girl.

What were you doing to her? Now you had her comparing herself to someone else? She was going to have a serious talk with you about this.

“What are they saying?” Hailey asked, doing her best not to stare at you and the small group surrounding you.

“I read minds, not lips,” Daniel huffed. Of course, Wednesday thought. That makes sense.

“Then what are they thinking?” Hailey asked with a roll of her eyes.

“Nosey,” Alex mumbled.

Wednesday kept her mouth shut because, quite frankly, she wanted to know too. Although she hid her curiosity by pretending to watch Emily and the twins colour on the papers on the table. She had no idea what they were drawing, but they seemed to be having fun. It gave her a certain warmth in her chest.

She blinked once at the revelation.

Oh damn you.

“Ash thinks she’s pretty,” Daniel said. He wasn’t looking up, instead drawing his own picture. Meanwhile, you looked uncomfortable as your foot tapped the ground and you kept shifting weight from leg to leg.

“Ew,” Emily grumbled. Everyone failed at hiding their smiles, even Wednesday couldn’t help herself. But only for a moment before she was back to her usual demeanor.

“One of the meatheads thinks she’s pretty too.” Now that was infuriating. If there hadn’t been children around, Wednesday might have had something to say.

“And the other one?” Alex asked. He was eying the whole group carefully, as if he was prepared to jump in at any point. “The one looking at us?” That same one said something, and your eyes flitted over to where everyone was sitting at the table.

“He thinks Wednesday is pretty,” Daniel said with a disgusted frown.

“He needs to keep his eyes to himself,” Hailey practically growled. She sounded like Enid. “Before I claw them out-”

“-She’s gonna kill him.”

Everyone froze for a split second before their heads turned to look at the group once again. Wednesday could see how tightly your jaw was clenched and the way your eyes squinted just so. The muscles of your forearms were pulled taught as your hands were balled into fists so tight that she could have sworn your knuckles were about to split.

“Alex-”

“-I’m on it,” Alex said, immediately walking over to where you were standing.

The moment he put his hand on your arm, you visibly relaxed. Your head turned to face him and all the anger had faded, turning into something akin to a soft protectiveness. She couldn’t see what Alex was saying to you, but you nodded absentmindedly and said something to the group before pulling Alex over to the counter to grab the ice creams Bo was sliding over to you.

And then one of the guys said something and you moved to turn, but Alex’s hand gripped your arm. Not just touched you, but gripped you, holding you still and stopping you from turning around to face them again. From where she was sitting, Wednesday couldn’t properly see what was going on, couldn’t see the look on your face, but she knew that tenseness in your shoulders.

You were furious, and someone was going to be on the receiving end.

Alex pulled you to the counter and slid a few ice creams over, which you eventually took with shaking hands. He left first, walking ahead of you so you had something to focus on, and you dutifully followed behind. There was still a fire in your eyes, but you kept them glued to the back of his head.

“Hey,” Ash called out, and you stopped in your tracks without turning around. “If you’re ever free-”

“-I’m not,” you interrupted before immediately finishing your walk to the table and sitting down beside Wednesday.

She watched your face carefully as you handed out ice creams, sliding specific flavours to each sibling. You looked passive, but she could see the gears still turning behind your eyes. Whatever they had said to you wasn’t sitting well. It was evident in the way you only half listened to everyone’s talking.

The hair on the back of Wednesday’s neck stood up when she felt someone watching her. She didn’t have to turn around to know who it was because the group had sat not too far away from your table. Her mind kept replaying what Daniel had said. Ash thinks she’s pretty. That wasn’t sitting well with Wednesday, not at all, especially now that she knew Ash was an ex girlfriend.

In a split second decision, Wednesday leaned up to leave a soft, lingering kiss on your cheek, reveling in the way your body froze underneath her before leaning into her touch. You were smiling when she pulled away. In her peripheral vision she could see the look of absolute shock on Ash’s face. A smirk tugged at her own lips as she looked down and took the second spoon sticking out of the ice cream in between you both.

Now this made public affection worth it.

—---

The last full day of the trip started with chaos, as did every other day. Except this was different; the day started before the sun was even up.

Well. Technically it had started the night before.

Wednesday was sitting on the porch swing in the back with Daniel while the younger kids ran around with the goats. Alex and Hailey were down at the creek and you were in the kitchen preparing something for the next day. Something you had said would cook overnight. She didn’t understand, but you seemed confident that she would like it. Every now and then, she would see you looking out the door at her and smiling before going back to helping your father.

“She likes you,” Daniel said even though his nose was still in a book. She liked him the most; he kept to himself.

Wednesday just gave him a look, and he shrugged once he finally saw it.

“She won’t say it,” he said softly, “but she thinks you belong here.” She turned her head to look at you again. You were currently arguing with your father over something she couldn’t hear. “And she likes your butt.”

Her cheeks flushed at Daniel’s words; he simply chuckled before returning back to his book, not even phased by whatever thoughts he clearly heard in your head. And yet she couldn’t take her eyes off of you and the way you moved around the kitchen as if you belonged nowhere else. Your hands expertly preparing whatever was on the table, a smile on your face, your laughter at your Tio spilling out of the open back door.

You smiled at her when you passed by, something wrapped in tinfoil resting in your hands as you carried it to the grill. Smoker, Wednesday corrected herself when she remembered what you had told her earlier. A slow cooker, something she had never used before but clearly you knew how to work.

Wednesday watched you place what was in your hands into the smoker and check a few things before making your way to the porch swing where you sat down in between her and Daniel. Desire told her to lean into your side, and even though she could hear all the people around, she listened. She leaned into your side and felt your arm instinctively wrap around her shoulders to pull her close, and she sunk into you.

The wind was getting cool an hour or so later when you nudged her gently, urging her to get up and head inside with everyone else. Everyone bid their good nights and Wednesday immediately curled up with you on the couch. You left kisses on the back of her neck as you slid a hand under her shirt, resting your incredibly hot hand on her stomach before settling down.

Wednesday had been in a deep sleep when movement woke her up.

“Sorry,” you whispered before placing a simple kiss behind her ear as you lifted yourself off the couch. “Go back to sleep, I’ll be right back.”

She stayed still, wrapped up in your blanket as she listened to your feet stumble across the floor. The back door creaked open and the crickets and frogs from outside reached her ears. It had made it difficult to sleep at first, but now she found the sounds comforting. Her mind was at ease while she waited until finally the door creaked and locked and you dragged yourself back to the couch.

"Good night," you whispered with another kiss and an arm around her waist, and she quickly fell asleep again.

Until you got up a second time, not even two hours later. You gave her a kiss on the forehead before getting up, and another kiss when you got back a few minutes later.

And then a third time. This time she grumbled and practically kicked you out when you tried to crawl over her. You hit the ground with a grunt but made your way outside anyway. It took you far longer to come back, and she was almost asleep again when you crawled over her and fell back onto the couch, instantly pulling her into you and falling back asleep.

By the fourth time you got up, Wednesday was tired and grumpy and truthfully she just wanted you to hold her. All this up and down and sleeping and waking up, it was exhausting. When the sun finally started to rise, you were already up again and making coffee while your grandfather and father made their way downstairs.

"Mornin', Wensdy," your father said. She had grown to find his pronunciation of her name tolerable, if not a little endearing.

"Kept you up all night, didn't she?" Your grandfather asked with a chuckle.

She didn't dignify his question with a response. He found that even more funny, judging by his deep laugh.

Through half-lidded eyes, she saw you hand mugs of coffee to your father and grandfather, head them mumble their thanks before walking outside. She would hand it to your family, you all spent a lot of time outside. Practically from the moment you all woke up until you went back to sleep, the outside was where you were all happiest.

As much as she wanted to just change into her usual clothes for the day and get started, she was tired. She wasn’t afraid to admit it, she was tired. So she did what she had seen all of you do for the past two weeks; she left her pyjamas on and went into the kitchen. You were sitting on the bench by the table and trying to blink away the sleep in your eyes.

“Mornin’,” you mumbled as well, your voice still croaky and thick with sleep. “Saved some for you.”

She took the mug from your hands and sighed at the warmth that spread through her fingers. A similar warmth spread through her chest when your arm wrapped around her waist and you pulled her down to sit on your lap. You were ruining her, she thought when she didn’t even flinch. No, she just let herself sit on your lap and let your chin rest on her shoulder.

Everyone eventually made their way down into the kitchen by the time Wednesday finished her coffee. You were finally looking more awake and ready for the day, and you even pressed a kiss to her cheek before standing up, placing Wednesday on her feet before taking the empty mug and washing them in the sink.

Emily grabbed Wednesday’s hand and pulled her back down to the bench before you could bring her outside. For your sake, she pretended not to notice the slightest pout on your face when you noticed you had been beaten to the punch. But you put on a brave face and went out the back, and soon everyone was moving around.

“Are you ready for tonight?” Emily asked once everyone had started eating breakfast.

“What’s tonight?” Wednesday asked, and she could feel the energy in the room shift.

“We’re having a bomfire!” Emily cheered.

“It’s bonfire, Em,” Alex corrected her as he too walked out the back to join you and your group.

“For your last night,” your Abuelita said, softly enough so you couldn’t hear her speaking English. Wednesday aspired to be that woman. The level of pettiness was incredible.

“Y/N even agreed to bring out Nicky’s fiddle,” your mother said with a soft smile.

“She should leave it alone,” Hailey mumbled into her cereal.

“Hey,” your aunt cut in. “If you can’t say nothin’ nice, keep your mouth shut.”

“Well she should,” Hailey continued. “She’s not even as good as he is.”

“She’s aware, Hail,” your mother said with a sigh.

Wednesday had a feeling this conversation had occurred before. If not this particular conversation, then the topic itself. She had noticed the way everyone acted when anything involving Nicky came up. Whether it was a family photo, a book, a movie, he was there. It was as if his memory was sitting in the corner, waiting for everyone to notice and remember that he wasn’t gone, he would never truly be gone.

If his tidied, untouched side of the room wasn’t enough of a display of everyone’s feelings, this certainly was.

“I think she’s good,” Emily said, drawing everyone out of the sour mood. “She makes funny faces when she messes up,” she giggled.

“She’s always got a funny face,” Daniel said around his mouth full of eggs.

“That’s just how I look,” you said, making all the kids jump and instantly look guilty. Wednesday got joy out of their guilt. Immense joy. “I was born this way.”

“Everyone start behavin’ and eatin’ your breakfast,” your mother said. “We’ve got a lot of work to do before we can have fun.”

A chorus of “yes, mommas” rang throughout the kitchen, and everyone essentially inhaled their food before getting to work. Wednesday was impressed until your mother put her to work while you were sent out to help your Tio and father start preparing the outside area.

It was a madhouse the entire day. More than once she had tried to escape the kitchen to go see you, getting just close enough for you to pull her around the corner and kiss her. But then your mother would call out and scold her - the nerve that woman had - before practically shooing her back inside to finish helping.

“Let’s get ready,” Emily called out, grabbing Wednesday’s hand and dragging her upstairs. “We’ve got something for you to wear.”

“I have clothes,” Wednesday argued.

“Y/N bought them special for you,” Emily continued.

“She’s so whipped,” Hailey chuckled with a toothy grin.

Wednesday just kept her mouth shut. Why had you picked out clothes for her? She had plenty of her own, she didn’t need any new ones. After all, hadn’t you complained recently about how you couldn’t wait to start working again because you were “broke,” as you put it so bluntly? But when the girls showed her the clothes laid out on the bed, she understood. Did she approve? That was to be determined, but she at least understood.

Everything fit perfectly. A little too well, it was almost suspicious. How had you gotten her exact measurements anyway? She supposed it didn’t matter because the black pants and shirt fit like a glove. Maybe you had a talent she knew nothing about. Would you be a skilled designer?

Who was she kidding, she had seen your wardrobe, you were the furthest thing from a designer.

“You look so pretty!” Emily called out, practically screamed, and Hailey flinched at the noise.

“Inside voice, Em,” Hailey said in a far softer voice. “Let’s go before they start without us.”

Wednesday allowed herself to be pulled downstairs, through the kitchen, and to the back where everyone was already setting things up. There was a large table to the side with all the food from the day laid out with three different coolers beside it. On the other side of the yard, a little further away from the food, was a large clearing where wood was piled almost as tall as her. Seats were scattered as if the singular purpose was to watch the fire.

Maybe it was.

And kneeling next to the wood with a torch in hand, arguing with Tio, was you. You, in jeans and boots and a hat tilted back on your head just enough to block the sun out of your eyes. There were tailored holes in your shirt that kept your wings snug, yet free. They twitched and ruffled when the wind brushed against them. It was certainly a look. A good look, if Wednesday was being completely honest with yourself.

Although you ruined it when you nearly caught your sleeve on fire in an attempt to prove something to Tio.

Wednesday stumbled forward when something pushed against the back of her knees. She exhaled loudly through her nose when she turned and faced her mortal enemy; Steve. Whoever had let him out was going to pay. He kept eye contact with her, staring deep into her soul before knocking into her kneecap and walking away.

That demon spawn would perish in the fire on this night. Wednesday swore it.

Once the fire was started, you finally walked over to where Wednesday was standing and everyone started getting their food. Just like you had been the whole trip, you made her plate for her, piling on more food than she would ever be able to eat. When asked where your plate was, your face darkened and you gave her a sheepish smile.

“I was actually gonna eat off your plate,” you said softly.

You wanted to share food with her? That was big for you, to share food. Of course you had cooked it and had gotten it all for her, but to share it? The whole meal? That was a rather big deal for you, she was actually honoured that you would even assume such a thing.

“Come on,” you said, “let’s sit down.”

You led the way and sat her down on one of the logs near the fire, and everyone else was quick to follow suit. Alysah and Jamie were more preoccupied with playing with Steve - that damned creature - and would occasionally come back to grab something to eat before going back to play. Emily made it a point to sit beside Wednesday and talk the entire time. Daniel was beside you, and Alex and Hailey were on a different log while all the adults milled around.

After everyone was done eating and you helped distract the little ones, Wednesday could hear the gentle tunes of a guitar; your father and Tio were playing softly, nothing complicated, nothing flashy. She stayed in her spot and listened, watching their fingers move expertly across beaten up instruments that were horribly out of tune. And yet, they still sounded beautiful as the strings were plucked in just a way that created a perfectly constructed melody.

“Come on over, baby bird,” your father called to you. You stopped chasing Jamie and Alysah - and goddamn Steve - around and looked up. “Play us a tune.”

You stood up straight, and Wednesday could see you take a deep breath in before slowly exhaling. Something in your expression made her feel sad, and she remembered what Hailey had said about the fiddle. It was Nicky’s. But you quickly replaced your expression with a smile and walked your way over. When you passed Wednesday, you took your hat off your head and placed it on hers.

She heard gasps come from somewhere, and when she looked up there was a teasing look on your Abuelita’s and grandfather’s faces. Your mother and father were looking at each other, and your aunt and Tio were laughing. Full, belly deep laughter. She looked up at your flushed face and narrowed her eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” you mumbled, refusing to meet her eyes, and walking over to where your father and Tio were sitting. When they laughed at you, you hit their shoulders and she heard a hushed “shut up.”

Daniel came and sat down beside Wednesday again and the both of them watched you take the fiddle out of its case and start getting it ready. You put such care into it, touching it with such gentle fingers, almost as if you were scared to damage it. Maybe you were; it was Nicky’s.

You held it to your left shoulder; like a right-handed person, though you most certainly weren't one. It looked a little unnatural, and yet you weren’t hesitant when you drew the bow across the strings a few times. As much as Wednesday hated it, you tuned it to the already out-of-tune guitars. And yet, when you drew the bow across the strings once again, it almost sounded nice.

But if you ever asked, she would never admit it. She would still scold you for being so horrendously out of tune.

Your father started the song first, and you jumped in with an uncertainty that Wednesday rarely saw in you. It wasn’t fear, not really, but she could see something else even if she couldn’t put it into words. Your brows were furrowed and you looked down in such intense concentration and before long, your tongue was even sticking out slightly.

She wouldn't say you were fantastic. You were good, of course, but you were no professional. Normally it was something she would take into account; why play if you couldn't play it to perfection? That's what practice was for. Yet you continued to play, and you played past the mistakes (and made the funny faces Emily enjoyed), and your fingers quickly found their spaces on the neck and you looked peaceful.

As you played, Wednesday started to wonder who had taught you. Had it been Nicky? Whoever it was had taught you to play right handed. Was it uncomfortable to play that way, or was it the only way you knew? Those questions continued to swirl around her mind as she watched you, practically studied your movements and skill and smile.

She definitely studied your smile.

The longer everyone played, the more songs you completed, the more comfortable you looked. She almost even thought she heard you laugh when the kids started dancing around the bonfire. Your boot tapped to the beat and your father would sing and your Tio would laugh and it was such an unusual atmosphere for Wednesday.

And, much like everything you had subjected her to on that trip, it spread a warmth through her chest.

At some point, your aunt came over and sat on the other side of Wednesday. She didn’t think anything of it, everyone was either watching the three of you or watching the kids dance. It still evaded her as to why your family would make it a point to sit by her, or talk with her, or include her in things. She wasn’t part of the family.

Although she supposed her family did the same thing with you.

“Figured out the hat thing yet?” Your aunt asked when you finished the song and started bowing out, turning around to tuck the fiddle back into its case.

“No,” Wednesday admitted. Though truthfully she hadn’t even attempted to figure it out; she had, unfortunately, gotten distracted.

“It’s some old superstition,” she continued. You had finished putting up the fiddle and were now being dragged out to play something called “mothman” with Alysah, Jamie, and Emily. “If someone gives you their cowboy hat, it means they like you.”

Oh. Yes, well that- that would explain everyone’s reactions perfectly, would it not? You had, more or less, laid your affections out for the entire family to see. Not that they hadn’t seen it before, of course, they had certainly seen you holding her hand or pulling her close. But if it was superstition then it meant a great deal more than just hand holding.

A scream echoed through the air and everyone’s heads turned to where you and the kids had previously been running around. Except now there were only two people left; you and Jamie were nowhere to be seen. Wednesday tried to ignore the fear that sent through her veins that you had both just disappeared.

“They know I hate this game,” your mother mumbled as she walked past where Wednesday’s bunch was sitting.

“How do you play?” Wednesday asked.

“Y/N flies around and tries to steal you without anyone seeing,” Daniel answered. His leg brushed against Wednesday’s, and surprisingly she didn’t flinch away.

“If you’re caught?” She asked. Emily and Alysah were sticking together, looking all around for wherever you could possibly be.

“Then you lose.”

Her blood froze in her veins when your whispered voice came from right beside her left ear. How had you managed to sneak up on her? How were you even capable of being that silent? Your breath hit her ear as you chuckled and you left a quick kiss on her cheek before backing away and disappearing once again while Jamie suddenly reappeared on your aunt’s lap.

Was that attractive? Did Wednesday find your sneaking skills attractive? She did. She very much did. Another scream rang through the air; her eyes still hadn’t found you. She did, however, manage to catch you walking up behind her, Alysah and Emily both hauled over your shoulders like sacks of potatoes.

"I win," you said as you practically dropped their giggling bodies to the ground.

"Again!" Jamie called out.

"No more," your mother said almost instantly. "It's time for bed."

Grumbles and complaints came from all the children, Alex and Hailey included. But in the end they were no match for your mother, aunt, and Abuelita; those women were a force to be reckoned with and everyone knew it. Even Wednesday had learned to say a simple "yes ma'am" and go along with it.

Everyone got to cleaning up, putting up the leftovers - such an unusual concept for Wednesday, truthfully, but she believed she liked it. Possibly - and getting the children off to bed. You passed her once on the way to help carry something and grabbed the hat from her head and put it back on your own.

Everyone except your parents burst into laughter.

“You better not-”

“-Not in my house,” your mother and father said at the same time.

“It’s my own damn hat,” you shouted back. “I can take it back if I want.”

“What does that mean?” Wednesday asked your aunt.

“I’ll let lil’ bird tell you that one,” she laughed before walking away and leaving Wednesday to continue packing things up.

She felt something tickle her ankle and looked down, instantly feeling an intense rage. Steve. The damned goat was chewing her shoelace as if it was his god given right. It was beyond tempting to throw him into the bonfire that was still roaring behind her.

“Wanna stay up and watch the fire?” You asked, reaching down to pat Steve on the head. Wednesday glared at him again. You’re lucky she’s here to save you, she thought but kept to herself.

With the fire behind you and the hat tilted down over your face, you looked like a silhouette against the red and orange backdrop. She couldn’t see your eyes or your smile, but she could feel the happiness. It was in the relaxed set of your shoulders and the constant twitch and ruffle of your feathers.

“That would be nice,” Wednesday said, and this time she could see the reflection of the light off your teeth as you gave her a toothy grin.

You pulled her into your lap once you got to the logs near the fire. She instantly adjusted until she was comfortable; it was disgusting that she was now so used to sitting in your lap that she knew how to get comfortable so effortlessly. Your chin rested on your shoulder and your arms wrapped around her waist and you both just stared into the fire.

Neither one of you said anything, just sat there in a comfortable silence listening to the crackling of the burning wood. Every now and then she would feel you press a kiss behind her ear, or to her neck, or your hand would squeeze her thigh lightly. She let you continue, just enjoying the feel of your skin on hers. But the moment she went to turn around, the back patio door slammed open.

"If one 'a y'all gets pregnant, your Pop is putting you up for adoption," your aunt called out.

"Oh my god, go to sleep!" You shouted as you turned to glare at her. Her laughter echoed in the empty yard as the door closed again and you sighed.

Wednesday didn't bother hiding her smile as she pulled you into a real kiss. Her heart hammered in her chest when she felt you smile back.

[thesleeptokenarchive]

Blue Ridge Rock Festival 2023

On September 8 2023, the Blue Ridge Rock festival was the kick off of the collective's first headlining tour in the U.S., the North American Rituals. They played on the Zyn stage at 19:30 (7:30 PM) local time.

The setlist was as follows:

Chokehold Like That Granite Vore Hypnosis Alkaline The Summoning Rain The Offering

Photographic imagery by Adamrosssi [FB/IG/X]

Additional imagery by Nyne Photography/Nicky Hernández [IG/Site]

We are once again blessed with a recording of the full set, courtesy Daniel Jackson [YT]

[lovelytsunoda]

super bass // yuki tsunoda

summary: its media day in miami, and y/n's boyfriend can hardly say he's wearing a shirt . . . unfortunately, there's no time to slip away, so she's biding her time until they get back to the hotel and her lover can take his time with her. inspired by this post

pairing: yuki tsunoda x female reader

warnings: this is actual filth i am so so sorry (no im not, the softer fic is in the drafts and coming whenever i have the time or energy to work on it.)

she was ready before he was, so while yuki was in the shower, y/n ran out to mcdonalds to grab breakfast for both of them

no time to cook on media day

and when she comes back, he's out of the shower, in the living room of the hotel suite with his baseball cap on backwards, low-rise board shorts and matching hawaiian shirt. completely undone

it has her choking on her morning apple juice

it's not that she hasn't seen this side of yuki before, it just takes her by surprise sometimes.

like now

"please tell me that you're at least going to button up that shirt."

"don't tell me you're jealous, pretty girl. you know you're the only one who gets to touch this." he says with a grin, gesturing to his impressive six pack

"jealous?" she scoffs. "I'm not jealous. i just can't be held accountable for the thoughts that i'm having right now, and will continue to have until you do that atrocious shirt up."

"atrocious? baby, we both know you have hawaiian shirts with patterns worse than this one." yuki hums, abandoning his egg mcmuffin and pulling her closer, his hands exploring the skin underneath the hem of her denim shorts, breath warm as he whispered in her ear

"i bet this turns you on, doesn't it? i never had you pegged as the type who was into the douchey florida frat boy look."

"no, spending five minutes in a room with logan was enough to kill the florida frat boy fascination." y/n jokes, her laugh turning into a gasp as his cold hands slip up her shorts, palming at her ass "but, god, babe, you wear it so fucking well."

she pulls him closer by the collar of his shirt, lips tangling with his as he grabs and squeezes at her skin

her feather-light moans swallowed by his kiss

but as she runs her hand down his bare chest, he pulls away.

"sweetheart, we don't have time right now. i want to take my time with you, treat you right."

she just wanted him, wanted to be ruined before they left for the paddock

but instead she spends the entire afternoon in the hard rock arena, where he still hasn't done up that stupid fucking shirt, and she can't hide how turned on she is

even when the alphatauri media team invites her to join in on the fun and games

which, don't get her wrong, she thoroughly enjoys

but she would enjoy being under her boyfriend so much more when he's out there looking like that

finally, media day ends and they're back in the hotel suite

about to spend the next few hours fucking like rabbits

she's backed up against the wall, one leg hooked over his waist as he grinds into her

the kisses are sloppy, needy

almost as needy as her hands, grasping onto any part of him that she can as yuki's needy fingers push up her cute little crochet top to play with her nipples through the thin lace of her non-padded bra

she's whining into his mouth when his lips start to move from hers up to the lobe of her ear, gently biting down before she jumps up and wraps both legs around him

he can feel how soaked her panties are as she presses her core against his crotch

"god, sweetheart, you're so wet for me already." he groans, kissing her neck

"only for you." she whines breathlessly, hands clawing to push the shambles of his shirt off his frame. "please, baby, please."

"please, what, pretty girl?" he grins, cocky as ever as he sheds the shirt. "use your words, sweet girl. tell me what you want."

because he knows she's shy and she's not going to want to say it out loud

he likes watching how flushed she gets when she finally stutters out: "please, baby, please fuck me. i need your cock."

and who is he to say no?

against all odds, they make it to the bedroom, her skirt flung over the dresser, skimpy lace panties practically ripped apart with the promise to buy her a newer, more expensive pair

he needs to taste her, kissing her folds gently, the rough fabric of his snapback scratching at the soft skin on her upper inner thighs

he tongue fucks her softly, making sure that she's definitely ready to take him

"are you ready for me, pretty girl? i'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk in the morning. now, get your legs on my shoulders so i can treat you like the goddess you are."

she's almost certain that sex with yuki has never been this filthy (although it has come close before).

hes fully naked aside from the silver chain and that fucking neon pink baseball cap, still sitting backwards on his head

she's practically folded in half, legs on yuki's shoulders and he's leaning in so close that she can almost feel the stretch in her legs

but that's an afterthought from the way that his hips are snapping into hers, the room filled with pants and gasps and moans and the sound of his skin smacking into her ass

"fucking hell, pretty girl." yuki groans, thrusting his cock deeper inside her. "you take my fucking cock so well."

"yes, yes, i love your cock, baby."

if he had known that all he needed to do to reduce his lover to a beautiful, moaning mess was fuck her while he was wearing a baseball cap backwards and a silver chain, he would have done it sooner

gently kissing her calves sucking hickeys into her lower thigh

"god, baby, you feel so good." she whines, bucking her hips into his

the lace on her bra is pulled down, her tits spilling out as she uses one hand to tweak and toy with her hardened nipple

he's clutching at the bedsheets as he continues to thrust into her, feeling his orgasm quickly approaching

"touch yourself for me, princess. make yourself feel good, yeah? i want you to let go for me, cum on my fucking cock."

her hand moves from her nipple to her clit, fingers moving quickly as yuki straightens, hands clutching her legs and knees on his shoulders, her legs pressed flush against his chest as he watched the combination of his cock thrusting in and out of her tight center and her fingers toying with her clit.

she moans, downright pornographic as she arches her back, head thrown against the pillows as she moans his name.

"tell me who makes you feel this good." yuki grunts, thrusts picking up the pace. "who does this pussy belong to?"

"you, yuki." she moans. "only you, baby. i-i think i'm going to cum-"

"cum for me, pretty girl. i've got you, i'm right here. cum on my cock, darling."

she comes with a moan that's downright sinful, and so loud that she's almost sure that the other drivers occupying that floor of the hard rock hotel can also hear her.

"where do you want me to finish, baby?" he moans out, already feeling himself begin to crumble (it was the feeling of her walls pulsing around him that pushed him off the edge).

"inside me, baby. please."

and yuki didn't need to be told twice, head tilted back as he emptied his load into her, fingers gripping her legs hard enough to bruise as his hips stuttered to a stop.

they knew they should get up to shower, to use the bathroom at the very least

but they're so exhausted, so wiped out, that all they can do is lie next to each other, sweaty and panting, without the covers because the room is suddenly far too hot for the duvet

"so what i'm hearing," yuki begins, finally taking the baseball hat off. "is that i need to buy more tacky shirts and not do up the buttons."

she rolls over, fixing her bra before she kisses him softly, a gentle smile on her face. "we'll get matching ones if it means we get more nights like this."

"we can do that." he laughs, kissing her again before wrapping his arms around her. "i love you."

"love you more." she hums, nuzzling into his chest.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @scuderiamh @starsanova @unluckyhoneybee @micksfilms

[redroomreflections]

All of the Good Things

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A Family of Her Own Series

Masterlist | General Masterlist

w/c: 4.3k

Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.

This Chapter: Natasha and R are on the run together.

The gentle sound of water lapping against the sides of the pool harmonized with the chirping of birds on the cool summer day. Summer in Versailles hadn't been on either of your bucket lists, but you can't imagine being anywhere else. Natasha stands in the shallow end of the pool, Stella in her arms, as they wade in the water. The pool was shaded perfectly by towering trees, their leaves creating a dappled pattern of sunlight on the surface of the water, glimmering like diamonds.

The air was filled with the scent of blooming lavender from the nearby garden, adding a sweet aroma that mingled with the fresh, crisp scent of the water. Natasha’s laughter mingled with the gentle breeze as she gently rocked Stella, teaching her how to float.

"You have to hold your head above the water," Natasha informed the two-year-old as she attempted to let her go. Stella shook her head, ignoring Natasha's words, as she wanted to pretend to be a shark. "Stella," Natasha asked again as she placed the toddler on the poolside.

"Shh, I'm listening to the waves," Stella held up a tiny hand. Natasha shook her head in amusement and stood in front of her in case she decided to jump in like earlier.

"Are there waves in a pool?" Natasha questioned. Stella's face scrunched up as she listened intently to the gentle splashes against the pool wall, deciding how to answer.

"Yes," Stella replied after a few moments. "And they're making music," she added.

“Oh, they are? What kind of music are they playing?" Natasha played along.

"Water music," Stella stated matter-of-factly.

"You love swimming this much?" Natasha questioned. It appeared almost rhetorical.

"She was born in a pool. What did you expect?" You said as you came out of the house with Nicky in your arms. He looked adorable in his cute red swim shorts and sun hat. Unlike his sister, he wasn't appreciative of the infinity pool that came with the rental, his little brow furrowed as he gazed at the water with skepticism.

Natasha found herself too distracted to add to the conversation, her gaze wandering appreciatively over you in your bikini. The way the sunlight danced on your skin made her heart race just a little faster, and she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of how you balanced playfulness and warmth as effortlessly as you balanced Nicky in your arms.

“You look like a total snack, by the way,” Natasha teased, her voice laced with affection as she tried to divert her attention back to Stella, who was now pretending to swim like a dolphin.

“Thank you, but I think Nicky’s the star of the show today,” You replied, shooting a playful smile back at Natasha as you approached the edge of the pool.

Natasha’s attention snapped back to Stella, and she chuckled at Stella’s enthusiastic splashes, soaking the nearby tiles. “Okay, Miss Shark, let’s get you back in the water,” Natasha said, returning her focus to the lessons. “But this time, we’ll try floating, deal?”

Stella nodded eagerly, her excitement palpable as she prepared to dive back into the pool. She loved playing in the water, and Natasha could see how much fun she was having, though it was quite a different story with Nicky.

Nicky stared at the pool, his little eyes narrowed suspiciously, and the expression on his face was absolutely priceless.

You held onto the railing of the pool with one hand and Nicky with the other as you descended the steps. Initially it was cold and the infant whimpered in surprise. Once he became accustomed to the temperature, however, he seemed content to splash the water and observe the ripples.

Natasha moved closer as she observed the two of you, and a sudden realization came over her. This was her family. There was a sense of belonging, something she had been searching for her entire life, and it all started with you.

When Natasha first met you, she never imagined this could be her life, a life of love and acceptance, a life where she was truly at peace. Natasha watched you in the pool with Nicky, the way you gently held him, guiding him through the water with patience and care. The sight tugged at her heartstrings, stirring something deep inside her she hadn’t known she needed for so long. She had fought in battles and faced impossible odds, but here, in this quiet corner of Versailles, surrounded by her little family, was where she felt her strongest.

Her thoughts drifted back to the day she first met you. Never in her wildest dreams could she have predicted this—a home, a family, a love so profound it healed old wounds she thought would never close. She had been a soldier, an Avenger, but with you, she was just Natasha. The walls she built so high had crumbled over time, brick by brick, until you had her heart completely. She doesn't know how she could ever show you how much she loves you. Stella’s joyful shriek snapped Natasha out of her reverie as the toddler splashed water at her, giggling uncontrollably. Natasha blinked, grinning at her daughter's antics. "Alright, alright. You win this round."

Stella giggled again and attempted to float, proudly puffing out her chest as she lay back, mimicking what Natasha had shown her earlier. Her little limbs flailed more than necessary, but she was trying, and that effort was all Natasha needed to see.

You made your way closer to them, Nicky now calmer in your arms, his tiny hands occasionally splashing as if testing the waters. The way he leaned into you for comfort made Natasha’s heart swell even more. She wrapped an arm around your waist as you joined her near the shallow end, her fingers trailing up and down your side.

"Did I tell you that you look sexy in a bikini already?" She asked.

"Mmhm, but I don't mind hearing it again," You smiled. "You don't look so bad yourself, Romanoff," You grinned, running a finger along the edge of her black bikini. You gave her a gentle kiss one that caused Stella to wrinkle her nose as she clung to Natasha.

"Yuck!" She cried, prompting the two of you to laugh.

"Sorry, kid. You're stuck with us," Natasha said, leaning forward and blowing a raspberry on her cheek, eliciting a squeal of delight from the toddler. The past few months had been nothing short of a dream. Every morning in Versailles had felt like a small slice of peace, a stolen moment between the chaos that followed like a shadow. The quiet days had given Natasha and you something you both craved—time. Time to simply be. No missions, no war rooms, no urgent calls for help. Just the two of you, your children, and a sense of stillness that neither of you had ever really known.

Natasha couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to breathe this easily, to savor these fleeting moments. The way your laughter would carry through the house, or how Stella’s giggles echoed in the garden, and Nicky’s soft coos in your arms as you both watched the world go by. Natasha found herself rediscovering you all over again—the little things that had drawn her in from the start but felt even more profound now. The way you could make her smile with just a look. How effortlessly you seemed to hold everything together, even when life on the run could easily fray at the edges.

Every stolen kiss, every shared glance, every touch had rekindled something inside her. Falling in love with you had been the easiest thing Natasha had ever done, but staying in love—especially through all the chaos, the goodbyes, the constant fear of what might come next—was a different story. She could admit now that every time she'd left, there had been a twinge of resentment from you, and she couldn't blame you for it. You'd never said it outright, but she saw it in your eyes, heard it in your voice when she promised, once again, that this time it wouldn’t be for long. She knew what it cost you to be with her, to follow her across continents, to live a life where permanence felt like a distant dream.

But these past three months? They had been different. Natasha had stayed. And with every day, that lingering tension—the one that came from being pulled apart and back together so many times—had started to dissolve. Slowly but surely, you were both healing. You were rebuilding something that the chaos of her life had threatened to break.

Natasha had learned to savor the little things again. The mornings where the two of you would sneak out to the pool before the kids woke up, enjoying a cup of coffee while the world was still quiet. The evenings spent in each other's arms, no words necessary, just the comfort of being near you. The way you would look at her like you saw past the mask of the Black Widow and saw Natasha—the woman, the wife, the mother.

And Natasha, in turn, found herself falling in love with you all over again. It wasn’t a rush or a whirlwind this time, but something deeper, more settled. Like the roots of something strong and enduring, quietly taking hold. You had always been her safe harbor, but now, in these quiet days, you had become her home in a way she hadn't fully realized before.

Of course, she knew the peace wouldn’t last forever. You would have to move again soon. Another city, another name, another chance to stay off the radar. The danger was always lurking, an ever-present threat that lived at the edges of these moments. But Natasha had learned to live with it, to compartmentalize it. Right now, as she stood in the pool with you and the kids, none of that mattered. The world outside could wait. For now, this was enough.

**************

You stepped out of the pool, water dripping from your skin as you made your way to grab more towels. The warm sun kissed your damp shoulders, but a slight chill ran down your spine as you stepped into the house. You heard a faint buzzing coming from the counter, the place where you'd kept your access to the outside world. It’s an old phone, a number only a select few even have—mostly remnants of a lifelong buried.

The screen flashed with an unknown number, but you knew better. Instinct told you who it is before you even answered.

Your stomach tightened as you picked it up, glancing out of the window at Natasha still in the pool with the kids, her attention on Stella as she splashed excitedly. You raised the phone to your ear, keeping your voice low.

“Hello?”

“Been a hard person to reach,” The voice on the other end said, his tone smug and all too familiar. General Ross. His voice alone was enough to make your pulse spike. It drags you back to a time when every phone call from SHIELD was an emergency, a matter of life or death.

You take a slow breath, forcing yourself to stay calm. “I didn’t know I was taking calls,” You replied coolly, your eyes scanned the surroundings automatically, your mind already shifting into alert mode.

“Guess you’re not retired after all,” Ross continued, his voice sharp, cutting. “I’ve been looking for you and Romanoff. It’s been quite the chase.”

Your grip tightened on the phone, your knuckles turning white. "I don't understand why you think I'd know where she is. Your guess is as good as mine."

"Come on, Agent. We both know that's not true," Ross replied, his voice full of malice. "She's wanted for the crime of treason. What better person for her to be with than the woman she loves? Wife, right? I know people too."

Your blood runs cold at his words, and you're thankful you're alone. "What do you want, Ross?"

"I'll give you a week," he replies. "Tell your wife to come back with the Rogues or we'll be paying you a visit."

"Is this how you usually get your way? Intimidation?" You asked.

"No, just the most effective," Ross replied.

"Well, you're wasting your time," You leaned against the counter. "What is it with your obsession with Natasha anyway? I'm curious. Did she reject you? Hurt your cat? Cut you off in traffic?"

Ross chuckled darkly, the sound low and menacing. "This isn’t about personal feelings, Agent. Romanoff is a traitor, and traitors need to face justice. It’s as simple as that."

You grit your teeth, gripping the edge of the counter as you fought to keep your voice steady. "You and I both know it's more than that. You’ve been chasing her for some time now. You’re obsessed."

"Obsession," he drawled, "is such an ugly word. Let’s call it dedication. I have a job to do, and I won’t stop until I see it through."

The weight of his words settled heavily on you, an oppressive reminder of the constant threat that loomed over you and Natasha, no matter where you tried to run or how well you hid. The illusion of safety, the peace you’d found together over the last few months, felt like it was slipping away.

"You’ve been out of the game for a while," Ross continued, his tone almost mocking. "Maybe you’ve forgotten how this works. You can’t protect her forever. Eventually, she’ll slip, and when she does, I’ll be right there. But if you’re smart, you’ll bring her in before things get messy—for all of you."

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the fear that clawed at the edges of your mind, threatening to overwhelm you. "Is that a threat, General?"

"Oh no," he replied. "Just a promise."

The line went dead, leaving you alone with the silence and the sound of your own heartbeat echoing in your ears. You leaned heavily against the counter, fighting the urge to throw the phone across the room. The familiar pitter-patter of footsteps caused you to change your tune immediately. You wiped at your face and rushed over to the sink, grabbing a glass and beginning to fill it with water.

"Hey," Natasha said as she entered the kitchen with Nicky and Stella. She paused, tilting her head, noticing the shift in your demeanor. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," You replied, avoiding her gaze as you sipped from the glass of water. "Are we all done in the pool?"

"Yeah, we're done for today," Natasha answered, her eyes narrowing. "Something happened."

You sighed and placed the glass on the counter, unable to lie to her. "Later. Please?"

Natasha didn't argue, but you could feel her gaze boring into the back of your head, her concern palpable.

The rest of the afternoon passed without incident, but you were hyper-aware of every sound, every shadow, the tension in your shoulders refusing to abate. You couldn't relax, not when the threat of Ross and his army was hanging over you like a sword.

The evening sun was painting the sky in shades of pink and red when the four of you sat down to dinner, the kids happily munching away on their chicken nuggets while you babysat the same cup of wine. Natasha didn't press for information. She simply enjoyed her time with the kids. Its when she put them down for bed that she begun to ask questions. You stood at the bathroom counter, preparing for your nightly routine, when she stood beside you. She watched your reflection in the mirror.

"So, are you gonna tell me what's going on or do I have to guess?" She asked, her voice gentle, but the concern was evident.

"It was Ross," You admitted, not meeting her eyes. "He called me earlier. Somehow he got ahold of my old work phone. I know it's dumb of me to still have it but..."

Her body tensed at the name, her expression hardening. "What did he want?"

"To let us know that he knows we're together," You replied, finally meeting her gaze. "That he's coming after you, and me. That we have a week to either turn ourselves in or face the consequences."

"How the hell did he find you?" Natasha asked, her voice laced with anger.

"I'm not sure, but he seems serious," You argue. "Maybe you should call and check on Steve and Wanda. See where they are?"

"Wanda can handle herself, and she's with Vision. I'm not worried about her," Natasha assured, running a hand through her hair. "Ross is just bluffing."

"If you're sure," You nodded. "I'm not afraid of him. Not in the slightest. I just think maybe we should relocate."

"But you love it here," Natasha said.

"Not more than I love you," You countered. "And we can't stay, we've been here too long."

Natasha's shoulders sagged slightly, but she nodded in agreement.

"I'm sorry this is happening," She frowned.

"Don't keep apologizing," You shake your head. "It's not your fault. We'll be okay."

"Yeah, but I'm the reason you're on the run with me. This isn't the life I wanted for you."

"We have a family, Nat. We have two beautiful kids. If we have to run, I'll follow. Besides, it's not forever." You tapped at her hands, grasping them in your own. "The kids are fine. I'm fine."

"Maybe one day, I can get you to a beach. A real one," Natasha smirked.

"Sounds nice," You smiled. "But wherever we go, I'll be there. You know that, right?"

"I know."

Natasha kissed you softly, her hands cupping your face. You melt into the kiss, wrapping your arms around her waist and pulling her close. The tension in your shoulders eases the fear and worry that had gripped you since Ross's call beginning to dissipate.

"Someone's birthday is coming," Natasha said.

"Stella will be three," You smiled against her shoulder. "Nicky's birthday was beautiful. I don't know what we're going to do for her."

"I've got a few ideas," She grinned. "She wants to visit an aquarium."

"Is that wise? All things considered?"

"We're careful," Natasha smiled, kissing you once more.

"You are. Me, I'm an anxious mess," You joked, the anxiety slowly returning.

"You're the most level-headed person I know," She chuckled, her hands rubbing at your back.

"That's sweet of you to say, but it's not true," You argued. "Our baby is going to be three. Where has the time gone?"

"It's flown," Natasha smiled, "but I'm glad we're here. I can't imagine doing this with anyone else."

"Same," You hummed, holding her tighter. "You know, we're pretty good at this. Being parents. Well, from an outsider's perspective, we might look insane, dangerous, crazy. The list goes on."

"You're definitely insane, but so am I. It works," Natasha laughed. "It's always worked with you."

"Yeah, it has," You agreed. Your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of her neck.

"You never told me if you liked my hair or not," Natasha said. You grip her head gently, pulling back at her, inspecting the box-dye blonde.

"You look like a baddie, babe," You grinned.

"A baddie?"

"A badass," You corrected. "You told me I looked like a snack earlier. It's only right if I return the favor."

"You know," Natasha smirked, "if we had sex now, we'd be doing it like a married couple."

"Well," You shrugged. "We are a married couple."

Natasha smiled and leaned forward, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. The anxiety and fear of Ross and his threats fade into the background, replaced by the familiar feeling of desire, warmth, and love.

***************

A week later you were at the aquarium. The faint scent of saltwater and the rhythmic hum of the filtration tanks created a calming atmosphere, one that made it easy to forget—at least for a moment—the looming threat that had shadowed you for the past week.

Stella’s eyes were wide with wonder as she held Natasha’s hand, her tiny legs struggling to keep pace with the excitement rushing through her. She had been talking about sharks non-stop since you’d left the house, her fascination sparked again by some ocean documentary she had watched with Natasha weeks ago.

“Do you think we’ll see a real shark today, Mama?” Stella asked, her voice filled with awe as she looked up at Natasha, her little hand gripping tightly onto hers.

Natasha, disguised with a black wig that fell just past her shoulders and brown contact lenses that made her nearly unrecognizable, smiled down at her daughter. “I think we will, Solnyshko. You might even see a whole family of sharks.”

Stella’s eyes lit up at the possibility, and she beamed. “I wanna see the baby ones!”

Behind them, you pushed Nicky’s stroller, watching the two of them interact. It was moments like this that made everything feel normal. It was easy to pretend that your little family was just like any other. The tension from a week ago seemed far away, and today was about Stella—her third birthday, a day of joy and exploration.

“She’s been talking about sharks all morning,” You said with a smile, catching up to Natasha and Stella as you steered the stroller next to them.

Natasha glanced back at you, her eyes crinkling with affection, even though she kept her gaze on Stella to avoid drawing too much attention to herself. “I’m pretty sure she’s going to try to take one home with her,” she teased.

Stella, overhearing, immediately latched onto the idea. “Can we, Mama? Can we take a baby shark home?”

You and Natasha both laughed, and you shook your head playfully. “I don’t think the sharks would be very happy living in our pool, sweetie.”

Stella pouted for a second but then seemed to forget all about it as soon as you reached the first large tank, her eyes widening with amazement at the sight of colorful fish swimming just inches away on the other side of the glass. She pressed her hands to the cool surface, her breath fogging up the glass as she stared in awe.

Nicky, sitting in the stroller, squirmed and giggled, his tiny hand reaching out toward the bright lights of the tank. You leaned down and whispered to him, brushing his soft hair back. “Look, buddy. Fish. Do you see them?”

He babbled in response, his little fingers curling around the edge of the stroller as he tried to take everything in. "Fish." He called out.

Natasha knelt beside Stella, pointing out the different species in the tank. “See that one? That’s a clownfish. And there, that’s a tang, just like Dory.”

Stella gasped, her face lighting up. “Like the movie! Do you think they’re friends?”

“I bet they are,” Natasha replied, her voice soft and warm. For a moment, her usual guarded demeanor slipped, replaced by pure affection for her daughter.

As you moved on to the next exhibit, a massive tank that stretched from floor to ceiling, filled with rays and small sharks gliding effortlessly through the water, Stella gasped again, this time louder. “Mama, look! Sharks!”

Natasha’s face softened at the sound of Stella’s pure excitement. "Yes, there they are. Look how graceful they are."

"They look sleepy," Stella whispered in awe, her nose pressed against the glass as she watched a sand tiger shark slowly swim by.

You couldn’t help but admire the sight in front of you—Natasha, disguised but still every bit the mother she had become, and Stella, full of curiosity and joy. The sight made your heart swell with emotion. It felt like a lifetime ago that you had thought about having a family, let alone having one with Natasha. Now, as you watched the two of them, the love and happiness you felt was almost overwhelming.

"Hey, ma'am mind if I take your picture?" One of the workers with a camera asked. You glanced at Natasha, already knowing the answer, but instead of saying no, she reached out to give him her phone instead. She whispered something in his ear that you couldn't hear and pulled out a bill from her pocket.

"Of course," You smiled, leaning down to pick up Stella. You pressed your cheek against hers while Natasha scooped Nicky out of the stroller. Your smiles were wide and genuine.

"Thank you," Natasha said. "You guys have a great day!"

"You too," The man smiled, waving at Nicky, who waved back.

You put Stella down, watching her run off to the next tank. It took an entire hour to make it around the entire aquarium. You'd reached the gift shop and allowed for Stella to pick out a gift.

"That one," She demanded as she stood on the tip of her toes to reach the shark tooth necklace dangling from a display.

"Let me get that," Natasha said.

"Mom, look," Stella exclaimed, pointing at the shark tooth necklace.

"I see. Are you sure that's the one you want?"

"Yep, I am." Stella nodded excitedly.

"Okay," Natasha chuckled. Natasha purchased the necklace, carefully taking it out of the box and clasping it around Stella's neck.

"I'm gonna keep it forever and ever," Stella grinned widely. Another picture was taken on Natasha's phone. A beautiful moment to capture.

"Forever and ever," Natasha repeated.

After the visit, you and Natasha treated Stella and Nicky to ice cream.

"This has been the best birthday," Stella hummed as she licked at her ice cream. "Can we come back, please?"

"Maybe," Natasha smiled. "We'll have to see."

"Can I see the pictures?" Stella asked, looking at Natasha's phone.

"Sure," You replied. You flipped through the photos, stopping at one of you, Natasha, and the kids, the four of you smiling widely at the camera.

Stella pointed at the picture. "Is that us?"

"It is," Natasha answered.

"I love it," Stella declared, her eyes crinkling the same way Natasha's did when she smiled. "I want to look at it every day."

You glanced up at Natasha, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Me too," Natasha agreed.

Lots of foreshadowing here.

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