#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

[timeforaneclipse]

Falling Apart (Lilia calderu x reader)

Chapter five - The coyote

Michelle chuckled as she and Agatha walked with Nicky through the winding woodland. Nicky clutched their hands and skipped on. Agatha's fond gaze softened as she watched her son's gleeful expression. The boy then ran on ahead. Chasing after a few butterflies. Michelle's smile  became thin as the boy ran ahead. The boy was now six and looked so happy to be free. "I worry." Agatha whispered to the younger woman, linking their arms. "How long until she comes for him?" She thought quietly, her brows furrowed as she watched Nicky kept looking back at them. 

The transformation witch frowned. "Not this soon. At least, I hope not. Besides, we can keep her distracted enough..." Michelle said quietly to her mentor. Agatha's face scrunched at her students words. Despite the reassurance, she was besides herself with fear. Michelle had a look in her eyes. A look her mentor knew too well. A look she herself had. Those dangerous canine eyes gleamed and Agatha raised an eyebrow. 

That same night, While Nicky lay sleeping beside his mother. Their coyote, covered in fresh sticky blood, sniffed over the Harkness family. Nicky snuggled closer into Agatha's form. More at peace then he originally was during the day. Tilting her head, The coyote stood guard over her little family. 

 --I_I<-)0(->I_I--

You had stayed up while the others slept. Well, all apart from Rio. Her eyes narrowed in thought as she watched you. You picked at your claws and glanced down Lilia who was wrapped in your tartan red coat. Your eyes became fond as you watched the peaceful expression on the older woman's face. She looked so beautiful. "You haven't spoken to me." Rio said as she played with her knife. You took off your glasses and gave them a wipe. "It's rude." She shrugged and leaned back to get a proper look at you. "We didn't raise you to be rude." The green witch smirked, amused.

A scoff left your lips as you shook your head. "How would you know?" You asked, tilting your head as you looked her up and down. "You didn't raise me at all, Death. Michelle and Agatha did." You growled, clearly bitter. Rio's smug smile vanished as your words hung in the air. Her dark brown eyes narrowed and she looked down, unsure of what to say. A part of you knew you were being unfair towards the older woman but another part of you thought you had a right. At her silence, you crossed your arms and leaned your back against a large rock. "I won't let you take them... Not like you took Michelle." You sneered, referring to the coven. You'd be damned if you let her take this new group you were beginning to grow fond of.

The green witch looked you up and down and raised an eyebrow. "I don't have her soul." Your eyes widened at Rio's confession. Your heart thumping. She... didn't have Michelle? Sitting up, you began to pay close attention to the woman opposite you. "She died." Rio laughed. "Don't misunderstand me. However..." The green witch swallowed. "Recently, her soul it's... well.. disappeared?" She shrugged. Disappeared!? How could a soul just go missing!? Despite her relaxed posture you could see the agony in her eyes. Almost as if she had lost something precious. Lilia stirred slightly in her sleep, drawing your attention away from the green witch. "You care about these witches." Rio observed.

"Care is a bit of stretch, don't you think?" Your nose crinkled.

Rio chuckled and shook her head. She glanced down at the dirt for a moment, then sighed. "Well, Given how you seemed so eager to hiss back at me a few hours ago..." Rio sat back as she spoke. Sarcasm laced in her tone as she took a moment to look you over. You looked... well. Grown up and healthy. A part of her felt proud. If only Michelle could see you now. Rio was sure that your older sister would be pleased with the woman you had become. You rolled your eyes but before you could voice a response, Lilia gasped awake, scrambling to sit up right. Concern laced over your features as you scanned the older woman's face.

She gripped your coat and looked around the woods in a panic. "They're coming... We have to go." Lilia urged and gave you your coat while trying to put on her own. "The summoning spell... We left the door open." Alice and Jennifer woke up and looked confused as ever. Left the door open? While Alice and Jennifer began to question what was happening, Your ear twitched and you tilted your head towards the wood. Something was there. You gritted your teeth and stared into the wood. Lilia became hesitant to tell the group but Rio urged Lilia to tell them what was wrong. Jennifer looked around nervously as she shared an unsure look with Alice. Taking a deep breath, Lilia continued. "The Salam seven." She bit out. Your head snapped in her direction. Great. "When Agatha killed her original coven-" Lilia tried to explain but was cut off by Jennifer.

"By stealing their power?" The woman spat, disgusted.

She caught your glaring gaze and held it. "Because her own mother tried to have her executed." Rio jumped in to defend Agatha against the potions witch.

"Are you really defending a noted serial killer, you creepy lurker?" The potions witch bit back. Rio raised an eyebrow, annoyed by Jennifer's insult.

Alice panicked slightly, practically begging for someone to finish the story. "When Agatha murdered her sister witches, She spared their young children." Lilia continued, frightened.

Rio narrowed her eyes. "Yeah and then they became a feral, hive-minded coven bent on revenge." Rio finished with a sneer. Disgusted by the transformation witches. You bit the inside of your cheeks. Worried for what lay ahead.

Agatha came running back from wherever she had wondered off to at full speed. Panicking as she put on her coat. "Moral of the story kids..." She hummed. "Is to always finish what you started. Also! Mercy is overrated." She frowned then looked for you in the crowd. "Alright, everybody pack up your shit! Let's go." She shouted. "Minerva!" She called and grabbed you. "Lead. And lead fast." You nodded at her words. Transforming into your small cat form. As you ran along the forest floor, the coven following close behind. Skidding across each twist and turn, your paws burned. Suddenly you came to a... Dead end? You were stuck. You didn't understand. This was the right way! What was going on!? Your ears went flat against your head as Jennifer began to complain that you had taken them the wrong way. A howl came from behind you. Agatha's defences went up. You slowly walked to the front of the group, sniffing the air. There was a stench. An unforgivable stench of death and this time.... It wasn't coming from Rio. A small panicked whine of pain left you as sharp jaws made contact with your small neck. Agatha called your name, terrified of what she was seeing. Your claws made contact with the body of whatever was shaking you by the neck. Almost as if you were a chew toy.

Managing to break free, You rolled along the forest floor and against Alice foot. Dark blood dripped from your neck and made a pattern on the leaves that lay along the ground. Your ears were lowered and your tail flicked. Every urge in your body was screaming at you to run away. Shaking, you stood up. A hiss left your jaws as you made eye contact with what had nearly made you its next meal. A coyote. Large and feral. It hackles stood on full display. Growling like a beast as saliva dripped from its mouth. Agatha's brows furrowed as she glanced at you. Wondering what was going through your head. Your eyes looked up at the older witch. Shit. You turned back to the coyote and swung your claws forward. You've never had to do this before. Fight in your cat form. It felt odd. Strange. "Minerva." Agatha barked, trying to grab you. But she had Missed by a second. For as the coyote launched forward, You matched it's movement. Bodies colliding.

It had left an opening for the coven to get out. Jennifer nearly ran for it but was held back by Alice's terrified grip on her arm. You felt its claws scratch against your eye. Each time it landed a bite on your smaller body, there was a crunch. Lilia gasped in horror, frozen in terror as she watched the coyote make quick work of you. In her fear, Agatha snatched Rio's knife from her hand and stormed towards the two transformation witches' entanglement. Without remorse, she booted the coyote in the ribs. Sending the canine back a few paces causing her to lose her animal form, her mask falling off as she rolled. Agatha stabbed the woman in the arm and scrambled away.

Lilia snapped out of her shock and quickly grabbed your small form. Clutching you close to her chest. Taking you far away from the coyote witch in front of the group Agatha turned back to find your form in the divination witch's arms. Her hard gaze softened a fraction. The figure behind her stood, bones cracking into place. Clawed fingers wrapped around around Rio's knife and yanked it out. The member of the Salam seven raised her head and Agatha's heart dropped. Sweat dripped from her forehead as she made eye-contact with the decaying figure. "Michelle..." The name hung in the air. Clogging Agatha's throat. Michelle was... a mess. Her once beautiful round face was falling apart and looked to be chipping away. Her eyes were ghostly pale and were as hardened as rocks. "Michelle, honey.." Agatha reached out for her but Rio held her back. That wasn't Michelle. Not anymore.

--I_I<-)0(->I_I--

Agatha's breath hitched as she ran her finger's through Michelle's locks of thick hair. Sweat rolled down her brow as she bit the inside of her cheek. "Almost there, honey." The older witch groaned in need as she rolled her hips towards the younger woman. Michelle's claws dug into the older woman's side. Rio chuckled from behind the older witch, her cold lips trailing down Agatha's bruised and bloodied neck. Agatha's spare hand dug into the forest floor as she let out a primal moan. Without warning, the three paused at the sound of voices. Rio's eyes narrowed and she disappeared but her dark presence lingered in the shadows. Wasting no time, Michelle snapped her movements away from her mentor and fixed the older woman's clothing. Agatha growled in annoyance. Her desired orgasm was stolen from her. In seconds the transformation witch shifted into a young coyote and pranced away, hiding in the bushes. Keeping her golden eyes trained on Agatha's movements. 

Sitting up, the older woman used a tree to aid her in standing. As she did, The voices made an appearance. Raising an eyebrow, you eyed the woman in front of you. "Aggie? What are you doing?" You asked with a tilted head, your face scrunched in confusion. Agatha's eyes narrowed in annoyance. How dare you interrupt a moment like this? She scowled as she eyed the male figure next to you. Great. Willy nilly was here too. Prince prissy pants. 

The blue eyed woman gritted her teeth. "Why did you bring that with you?" She asked, venom dripping off her tongue as she looked over the skinny boy. Agatha frowned and wiped the dirt off of her skirts. "I thought your sister and I disposed of him." Her bitter tone sent a shiver down the boys spine. He had always been intimidated by your... Mother? He wasn't quiet sure what she was to you but  ever since she buried him alive? He tried to keep his distance from the mad woman. 

--I_I<-)0(->I_I--

Clutching your small injured  head, Lilia followed the after the coven. Rio was dragging a traumatised Agatha away from decaying corpse that was now Michelle Smith. Your blood smudged over her white shirt. Teen offered to take you off of her hands but the divination witch shook her head. Not trusting your trembling body in anyone else's arms but her own. A quieter part of herself felt.. nice. Holding your small form so close. Agatha kept a watchful eye on the two of you. Her eyes full of worry and tears. She couldn't believe it. Michelle was ruined. A monster and yet.... she craved her so. Even as this... decaying creature she had become. Just to have her coyote back would be heavenly. Suddenly the coven came to a halt. A high pitch howl came from ahead. Rio closed her eyes for a moment. Relishing in the familiar sound. Agatha teared up, her chest aching. More animalistic noise came from behind. Lilia yelped and held you closer to her chest. Waking you up slightly. God, why did everything hurt. "We're trapped!" Lilia cried. 

Jennifer's eyes widened in fear. She was getting sick of these furry freaks. Transformation witches always meant trouble. "What about a hexenbesen?" The teenager suggested with a keen smile. In her panic, Lilia began to scratch behind your ear. All but Rio began to shun the idea that the boy had given. "Well, if you're all too cool for a practical means of escape!" He frowned. As if on cue, a loud primal screech came from the trees. The coven rushed forwards and began to make their brooms. Teen approached Lilia with uneasy eyes as she struggled to balance holding your wounded body and making her broom. He carefully took your weakened state out of her arms so that she could focus. "Why does your generation hate them so much?" He asked curiously as he weaved his fingers through your now matted fur. 

"Brooms have been co-opted by the holiday industrial complex as an absurd emblem of our culture." She explained sternly to the boy. "Worst yet, they're an obvious symbol of female domesticity!" She gritted and began to decorate her broom. Taken back, the boy frowned and stroked your battered form.

"Annddd they're basic." Jennifer chirped in before the group began to chant in Latin. Exchanging  brooms with each other.  "Ohh this is so cute!" Jen smirked at Lilia's gifted broom.

Forcing a smile, Lilia looked hers up and down. "Thank you..." She hummed, her voice high pitched. "You could have done better." Her forced smile faltered as she took your lanky cat body from Teen's grasp. She was not about to allow this inexperienced teenager give you a test flight. Your small body was abused enough. It has take you numerous attempts to force your weakened state to open your good eye. Lilia stared for a moment. Her kind eyes softening in relief as she stared into your sharp frightened golden. She had completely zoned out from what the group was saying. As she focused her attention on you, before she could guess it, Teen had fallen over. A member of the Salam seven sat on his chest. However, it didn't take long before Alice took to action. Hitting the transfiguration witch with the large broom. Agatha yelled at Teen to hurry and finish the ritual. Once they had finished, the coven took off. Your claws dug into the broom wood as Lilia held your frail body close. As the broom lifted higher, you retreated into the older woman's warmth. Teen kept struggling to keep his balance. "Try praying to the divine mother, kiddo." Lilia laughed.

--I_I<-)0(->I_I--

The arguing was getting worse. Why couldn't Agatha just understand!? She had no choice! It was her job. She had to take Nicky. For the sake of balance. It had to be done. Had she not given everything to the witch before her! Rio had given her so much time... But Perhaps it was cruel. To give her time. To let her get attached? But she thought she was doing the witch a favour.. After all she didn't want Agatha to hate her... but yet, all paths led to it. The hate and spite. God, all she wanted to do was sit and cry. Even now as purple magic blasted against Green. Creating a sceptical for all to see. She was so tired... She swore she could hear yelling... screaming... perhaps it was just in the back of her mind. Before she knew it, Agatha yelled out in fright. The lose of control overwhelmed the green witch and fell back. Rio's heart dropped when she saw the glimpse of Blueish green magic.

Agatha sobbed as she held the smaller younger witch's upper torso. Screaming for her coyote to come back. What... just happened... Rio's eyes went wide in her panic and she scrambled towards the lifeless body of the transformation witch. Agatha pushed her away. Not wanting Death to take her last bit of joy. The older witch's throat felt like sand paper as she tore her vocals from the screaming. Rio's own tears rolled down her cheeks as she watched the agony on Agatha's face. Agatha's hold became tighter on the deathly pale corpse. Rotting away in her arms. Rio's magic being much too powerful for the transformation witch to handle. Agatha kissed the young woman on the forehead then looked to Rio. "I want you to leave...." Her voice cracked as she glared up at Rio. Rio's heart ached and she closed her eyes in defeat. She bit her bottom lip as she tried to  hide the pain. Michelle was hers too... Didn't she have a right to hold her?

--I_I<-)0(->I_I--

The wind blew against your fur as you snuggled closer to the divination witch's chest. Your tiny feline body relaxed as you took in your surroundings... it was beautiful. The moon's glow was full and bright. Your eyes twinkled at the sight. You had never been on a broom before... At least not like this. Lilia laughed. It was a pleasant sound. Your ear twitched back to listen to the light-heartedness of it. She sounded so free and happy. "I haven't done this in centuries." She smiled widely, her curly grey hair dancing behind her. It was gorgeous. She was gorgeous. Breathing in the fresh air, you found yourself relaxing further. The moment of peace was short lived as were most things on the road. The brooms began to roll and Lilia's eyes widened as she grabbed you close so that you wouldn't plummet to your death.. "What's going on!?" She yelled in a panic. 

"It's the road! It forcing us down!" Agatha shouted back. "It wont let us leave!" Everyone brooms began to dive, spinning madly as it did. Above the chaos, you could hear Rio's sadistic cackle. Before you crashed onto the ground below, Lilia managed to regain control of her broom. Your claws dug into her flesh in attempt to keep yourself on the broom causing the older woman to wince slightly. But She didn't complain. 

"The next trial!" Teen exclaimed as the coven raced on through the road. A floating figure in black was waiting in the distance, making you cringe as you clung to the divination witch. Not watching to fall from the broom. The figure opened her mouth, screaming as thousands of bugs flew out of her mouth. Agatha screamed in return. Panicking as she rode straight on towards the leader of the Salam seven. With a crashed landing, the coven fell from their brooms. You rolled along the forest floor, losing your cat form. You whimpered in agony as you clutched your wounds. Rio forced you up off of the ground. She wasn't going to be the reason another Smith Sister died. She forced you to keep running and through the doors of the next trial. Stumbling to your knees, you clutched your face. 

Agatha quickly shut the doors, and tried to hide her recent distress with a hair flick. Getting the bugs out of her hair. She couldn't believe it. Her Michelle... trying to kill her. It was a... mess. Lilia breathed heavily as the group tried to calm down. "Okay... Okay... Okay." Agatha kept repeating deep in thought. "We're okay..." 

"NO WE'RE NOT!" Jennifer cried. "THE ENTIRE HALLOWEEN AISLE'S OUTSIDE WAITING FOR US!" She spat. 

Still shaking her hair, Agatha straightened. "And it doesn't look like they can get in, does it?" She smirked. "So all we need to do is complete the trial and continue on before they can reach us!" Agatha announced like a buzzy bee. Ignoring Rio's calling of her name. "Okay!?" When Rio called her name once more Agatha nearly rolled her eyes before she saw Rio standing over you. You were hutched over. Sobbing. Agatha's demeanour faltered. Lilia's brows furrowed and she tried to approach you but was pushed away by Agatha's own attempt to get to you. Your little whimpers caught the coven off guard. Kneeling in front of you, her hands tried to move your own away so that she could look upon your face. Worry fuelled her features. "Minnie?" She whispered. Managing to get your hands away, Agatha gasped in horror. Rio swallowed and looked away. 

Lilia's eyes widened at the sight of your new.. deformed features. "Oh...ew..." Jennifer muttered as she cringed at the devilish sight. Four large deep bloody claw marks ran from the top right side of your face down to your left. Luckily, your eyes seemed spared from the attack. Agatha let out a breath of relief. Michelle did this.... Wincing as Agatha touched your still bleeding wounds, Agatha frowned and teared up. Exhausted, you fell against your mother's chest. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

This chapter might be messssyyyyyyyyy and shit.... im sorry 

What do we think now that michelle is finally revealed to be apart of the salam seven? Minnie nearly lost her eyes... I think the time jumps might be confused so im sorry. i tried. 

Tag list (If you wanna be tagged for all Patti fics lemme know) - @macnbriee @damagnificentcookie @mgruiz @delusionaforolderwomen @emilynissangtr @yourbasicqueerie

[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

[cabinetofquriosities]

Nothing Matters

Agatha x Rio || Warnings: Violence and Smut

Just a note: These are based on actual historical events that happened, which is why I aged Nicky down to 5 when he died in order to fit the dates. They are pretty fascinating events. I encourage anyone reading to fall down the same rabbit holes I did while researching them!

(Listen along while reading)

——————————————————

1755 - Lisbon

Classical music filled the stuffy air of a palace in Lisbon as nobles danced with one another. The rich were flirting, feeding, and forgetting the world beyond their gilded walls. Outside, families were celebrating All Saint’s Day on the first of November. Children ran from door to door, collecting treats from their neighbors. Little did they know, the shadow of death was amongst them.

Agatha Harkness was still marked by grief only six months after losing Nicholas. She had killed and drained enough witches to fill a town, but Death still hid from her. After the hell she had been plunged into, Agatha yearned to pull her former love down with her. So, she had something planned that Rio would not be able to ignore.

1872 - Boston

Summer Street was packed with people who were going through the motions of a frigid November day. Men walked arm in arm with their wives. Teenagers blushed as they wooed one another. Merchants had their doors open to the cold in hopes of welcoming passerby’s.

In the thick of the crowd was Agatha Harkness. She wore a scarlet two piece silk dress with a lace lined jacket and bustle at the back of the skirt. Her hair was pinned up with banana curls spilling down the back of her neck. Her hands were snug in a fur hand muff.

Her power felt completely renewed. She went on a bit of a bender with killing witches. She had been betrayed by her own emotions as Rio showed up in every dream for the last few years. She was used to one here and there, but not every night. She needed to get that beast out of her system. So, she killed and stole power in hopes of summoning her. The two were still diametrically opposed to one another, still “separated” or estranged spouses for lack of a better term, but could never stay away for too long. Every so often, Agatha would find a way to see her and the two would reunite for a night at most in a tangle of bodies and limbs. It had been over a decade this time around.

1912 - The Atlantic Ocean

The gentle sway of the ocean rocked the passengers to sleep as their destroyer treaded the boards overhead. Her heels clicked as she walked over the deck.

“Ma’am?” the captain called.

Agatha turned, her curls falling loose around her shoulders and still wearing a long, sheer bejeweled dress from dinner. After all, she had to dress for her Lady.

“Yes?”

“It’s too cold to be taking a walk out here.”

“It is,” she said with a smirk.

1755 - Lisbon

Death always had a sense of when a seismic event was coming. Whenever a wave of death was about to strike, she would feel the pull of it. Rio had tried to avoid revealing herself by waiting longer after a witch would die to claim her soul. This, though, this was so far away from Massachusetts. She incorrectly assumed that Agatha wouldn’t be traveling overseas.

She couldn’t show up late to an event of this size. With how massive the event promised to be, she figured it was a natural phenomenon rather than anything that could be caused by Agatha. So, she donned an elegant dress, her hair pinned in curls, and appeared at the epicenter.

Agatha heard the music shift to a Minuet. Couples made their way to the ballroom floor to dance. She stood and saw the woman who had been just out of reach for the past several months. She strode over and swiftly took her by the hand before Rio even had a chance to register it was her. Agatha whirled her into a spin before stepping back, giving a deep bow with the rest of the ladies in the dance.

Rio looked like a trapped animal, her eyes betraying the panic she felt at being so thoroughly tricked. She went along with the dance, one that was playful in nature and felt so inappropriate for their situation. Agatha straightened up and raised her hand, pressing her forearm against Rio’s as they walked around one another, their gazes locked.

“Did you really think you could run from me?” Agatha hissed.

1872 - Boston

Rio knew there was a likelihood of Agatha being close to this given its location, but knew she had to arrive for this. While it wasn’t the same bodycount as a natural disaster, the violence and discord she could sense coming required her presence.

She walked down the cobblestone road. A little boy accidentally ran into her. She grabbed him by the shoulders to keep him from falling. He looked up at her with wide eyes, feeling the aura of decay around her. Those eyes looked too familiar to ones she had seen before. This one wasn’t meant to be lost today. There was no need for him to witness it at all. She led him into an alleyway before the child knew what was happening and swirled her fingers. A small door appeared on the side of the building. She opened it, motioning for the five year old to walk through. He did, not noticing he was on a street in a nearby town until the door shut behind him.

“Special treatment, I see,” a voice said behind Rio.

“He wasn’t meant to die today,” Rio said.

She turned around.

“Agatha.”

1912 - The Atlantic Ocean

“Do you need an escort back to your cabin?” the captain asked the wandering passenger.

“Oh, no need,” Agatha said, redirecting her gaze to the stars above, “My love will be here soon.”

“Okay, well, please be careful,” he said, “And stay away from the edge of the ship. The ocean is deadly at night.”

“That it is,” she said, nodding at him.

A dapper young man wearing a suit crossed his path before making his way to the Agatha. The captain noticed how feminine the man’s features were. He felt unnerved by the interaction, feeling something of a chill down his spine as if Death had brushed past him.

“Your love?” Rio asked, Adjusting her top hat.

She turned around to face Rio with a cruel smile.

“It would have sounded suspicious if I said my enemy.”

1755 - Lisbon

“I wasn’t running,” Rio said as they danced.

“You were hiding,” Agatha said.

“I don’t always show myself to others every time I collect.”

“You used to with me,” Agatha said.

“I didn’t think you wanted to see me after-“

“DON’T… say his name. You do not get to ever say it again,” Agatha snapped before resuming their dance.

“I just thought you needed time.”

“Time…” Agatha said with a bitter laugh, “Well, you never give much of that, now do you?”

Rio stopped in her tracks, ignoring the music filling the room. Her eyes darkened. Could she really be that willfully ignorant of the situation? Human emotions always twisted the reality of things into absurd shapes.

“I gave everything I could,” she said, her voice dropped low.

“Then you fall far short of expectations. You are the original Green Witch. Lady Death. And all you could manage was five years.”

“You have no idea how much those years shifted the balance of the universe. I would have given him all the time that existed if I could.”

“But you didn’t,” Agatha seethed.

“I couldn’t,” Rio said with a defeated sigh.

She looked around, feeling an electricity in the air around them. Whatever was about to happen was coming closer.

“I cannot have this conversation right now. Something terrible is about to happen. You should leave while you can,” Rio said with an edge of urgency.

“Oh, I am very aware.”

Rio tried to resolve the enormity of the event with being caused by a single person. This event would affect a third of the Earth. She looked at her with genuine shock and amazement.

“Agatha… what did you do?”

1872 - Boston

“Rio,” Agatha said with a sly smile, “Long time, no see.”

“Well, our meeting in New York didn’t exactly make me want to come running back.”

“Oh, please,” Agatha said, stalking towards her with a pout, “You love it when I’m cruel.”

Rio arched a brow before shaking her head with a bemused smile. She hated how right she was. It was a rare treat for Death to have someone who did not fear or revere her. Agatha gave her the gift of the unexpected in the endless cycle of nature.

“You are the one behind what is about to happen, then?”

Agatha looked downright giddy as she said, “It’s already begun.”

Agatha took Rio’s hand, running her up the stairs of the nearest building they could find to the roof. Agatha beamed at the view like a kid showing an adult the drawing they had made. Rio looked at the skyline of Boston, not noticing anything out of place at first. A few moments passed and then, she saw the smoke.

1912 - The Atlantic Ocean

“Your enemy,” Rio echoed, “Is that where we still are?”

Agatha looked at her with a flash of vulnerability before throwing her mask back on.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” she said, lifting her chin.

“For someone who hates me, it seems like you’re pretty determined to see me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was bored.”

“Really?” she said, nodding, “Sure. Let’s just say that if it makes you feel better.”

Agatha scowled before walking to the edge of the deck, hanging onto the railing. Rio followed behind, never allowing Agatha to be too far away in a deadly situation. She knew it wasn’t her time, but it was usually because Rio was there to protect her. If Agatha had gotten sick or killed by another witch, then she couldn’t do anything but take her to the other side. She couldn’t cure illness. She couldn’t interfere in an attack that she was not present for. However, if she was a source of protection while present, it would not upset the sacred balance. People were taken before their time far too often and she could do things to prevent that. If it actually was their time due to something fated and intrinsic like an illness, it was not preventable. It was how she saved Agatha time and time again, but also why she couldn’t save Nicky.

“What are we looking at?” Rio asked.

“That,” Agatha said as an iceberg appeared in the distance.

1755 - Lisbon

“It is not what I did. It is what I am about to do,” Agatha said.

She took Rio’s hand, pulling her outside to the courtyard where couples strolled with one another beneath the moonlight. She knelt down, putting her hand on the ground. She closed her eyes and began to whisper an incantation.

Purple light pulsed under her palm. The ground started to shake. The earth broke apart at her hand, cracks emerging and spreading with purple glowing from them. People screamed and fled. Buildings collapsed and the cracks opened up. Men and women sprinted blindly in a panic, falling in and being swallowed up whole. Agatha’s smile widened as she felt the energy of every witch in Lisbon reverberating back to her. Rio simply took it all in with a sense of awe at Agatha’s power of destruction.

She stood and turned to face her. The destruction was unfolding around them as Agatha’s eyes burned into Rio’s. Her gaze reflected rage, sadness, and misdirected hatred. Intertwined throughout those elements was a strong desire that had always bonded them together. Both of them suddenly took three long strides and met in a wild kiss.

1872 - Boston

“One fire?” Rio said with an arched brow, “A bit sophomoric for you.”

“Oh, hush,” Agatha sniped, “Keep watching.”

A minute passed before the building was engulfed, the flames climbing and building with every inch of wood and dried goods. There were no people in the storage house, but that didn’t matter as Agatha worked her magic. She swirled her hand flicked it out in the fire’s direction. A gust of wind whipped from her fingers over the city. The flames jumped to neighboring roofs, burning them quickly with how close and flammable they were. The city was architecturally tight and created with wood as the primary material.

Rio’s eyes went wide and she smiled at the sight of the growing inferno. She reached over, threading her fingers through Agatha’s. Agatha reached up and cupped her cheek with her free hand. She knew their dynamic was too fraught to work in the long term, but these pauses in their rivalry were something she needed. Or, rather, the transformation of their rivalry into something more primal and intimate.

Rio leaned into her touch with a soft look. Agatha moved in, catching her lips with hers. The kiss was tender for all of forty seconds before Rio’s teeth sank into Agatha’s lip, drawing blood. Agatha sucked in a shocked gasp. She pulled back, her look indignant.

Agatha gripped Rio by the throat, shoving her down onto the floor of the flat roof. She looked down and found that Rio had rid them both of their clothing with a wave of her hand. She crawled over her, grabbing her neck again. Rio laughed between coughs as she was choked.

1912 - The Atlantic Ocean

“Oh. Interesting,” Rio said with a curious tilt of her head.

Agatha looked at her, peeking out of the corner of her eye. Rio looked beautiful and handsome all at once in the fancy tuxedo and top hat.

“You look good,” Agatha said quietly.

The corner of Rio’s lip turned upwards at the compliment. Any crumb of kindness from Agatha felt like the gifting of a rose.

“Thank you. You look breathtaking,” Rio said, turning her head to look at her directly.

Agatha unwillingly blushed in a way that reminded Rio of when they were a new couple. Agatha had never been in love before, nor did she know any affection from loved ones. The young witch would melt at any kind words given to her. Moments like this reminded Rio that every stage in Agatha’s development as a person was nested within her like Russian dolls. It was such a strange thing about humans that Rio never noticed until she was devoted to one over a matter of centuries.

Agatha raised her hands up, beams of purple shooting from both palms. They wrapped around the massive iceberg. The ropes of energy held onto the ship. Agatha used the ship’s momentum to drag it into a collision. Rio threw her arms around her from behind, holding her to keep her steady as the impact spread across the Titanic.

1755 - Lisbon

The estranged, grieving couple found themselves in a tangle of dangerous emotions. Agatha backed her against an oversized cedar tree. She pinned Rio by the wrists, making a point to dig the back of her hands into the jagged surface. She sucked and bit at her lips, letting her wrists go to start yanking at her bustier, doing everything she could to strip her from the ridiculous layers of clothing that were used to lock the female form in.

Rio reached down to tangle her fingers in Agatha’s hair, but was met with the sting of a slap. Then another. Although Death could shut down sensations to the body, she chose not to. She wanted to feel whatever contact Agatha would give, no matter the type.

Agatha slapped her two more times, leaning in to bite painfully into her shoulder, pulling back with a few drops of blood decorating her snarl. She raked her nails down her arms, leaving angry red marks. Rio let out grunts and gasps with every hit. Tears welled in Agatha’s eyes, her jaw clenched in anger. Rio wanted her to take it all out on her.

Agatha pulled back enough to look at the marks she left behind. Maroon handprints on her cheeks, a bleeding imprint of teeth on her shoulder, and scarlet trails blazing down to her wrists.

Agatha looked shocked at her own violence toward a woman who she never cared to hurt this way before. Just as she was about to pull away and leave, Rio spoke with a shaking voice.

“Keep going. Do everything you have wanted,” she breathed.

Agatha wanted to punish.

Rio wanted to hurt.

“Everything I have wanted?” She hissed.

Agatha shoved her back against the tree, pressing her hips against her. She used her magic to tear Rio’s layers down, leaving her nude. She pinched and twisted her nipples. Rio hissed through her teeth, arching her back. The roots of the tree, sliding up Agatha’s body. They ripped her dress apart, leaving her in scraps of fabric, her body revealed.

Agatha’s violent affection grew as she slapped her cunt and pulled her head back by the hair with her other hand. Rio’s gaze held Agatha’s, refusing to look away.

1872 - Boston

Agatha’s grip around her throat loosened just enough to turn it from aggressive to playful. She smiled down at her, able to look at her with more affection than hatred. She hadn’t forgiven her, but she at least intellectually knew that Rio had no choice but to take Nicky, even if she couldn’t emotionally accept it. Rio felt the lightness in Agatha. As long as she didn’t call attention to it, it would continue.

Rio knew that the moment she acknowledged the connection between them, Agatha would throw her walls back up the way they did in New York years ago. Back then, Rio slipped up and said she loved her. Agatha’s expression hardened. Her eyes went dead and she abruptly left her, waiting far too long to summon her again. Rio wouldn’t make that mistake again. She would keep it light and safe.

Rio smirked and rolled them over, grabbing and pinning her wrists. Agatha leaned up, trying to struggle against her hold. Rio bit her lip and narrowed her eyes. She worked her leg between Agatha’s and pressed her thigh against her sex. Agatha gasped and rolled her hips at the contact. Rio smiled devilishly down at her.

“Such a greedy girl. Fuck yourself on me.”

1912 - The Atlantic Ocean

The ship had cracked in two. The lights turned off throughout, plunging the vessel into darkness. Shrieks emanated from the cabins.

Agatha turned in Rio’s arms, holding onto the railing behind her while the two halves of the ship tilted toward the middle. Rio pressed her fingers under her chin and guided her up into a kiss under the stars.

Agatha let go of the railing, wrapping her arms around Rio’s neck as they tipped and slid towards the wall of the pilothouse. Agatha cushioned the impact of their bodies crashing against it with a shield of purple mist.

People emptied out of the cabins, running in a panic to find an exit. Men tried to push past mothers and children to save their own hides while the rich locked the poor passengers under the deck when they realized there were barely any lifeboats.

This level of cruelty towards one another was the very reason that Agatha used to justify her murderous acts. If this is who they were at their cores, what would they possibly have to give to the world? The rich especially angered her. Regardless of having every advantage, they were the most selfish beings on earth. If she hadn’t been completely wrapped up in Rio, she would have saved the lower class passengers while dispatching the richest. However, she was locked into an embrace with her love and the water had already rushed into those cabins.

Agatha kissed along Rio’s neck, running her hands over her suit. She took care to leave as many clothes on as possible. It was not only cold, but Rio also looked amazing in a tuxedo. She slid her hand into the suit pants. Rio gasped and smiled. She rocked her hips over her hand, feeling Agatha’s hand wandering. Agatha’s fingers parted her folds and pushed up the hood of her clit, using a fingertip to lightly play with it. The pleasure shot through her in short spurts that felt like being electrocuted. She gripped Agatha’s upper arms to steady herself, already trembling. The rush of death surrounding them was as intoxicating to her as Agatha was. It didn’t feel like euphoria the way draining magic felt to Agatha. It was more of a flood of adrenaline that activated her instincts as the reaper. It made every sensation that much more extreme.

Agatha, meanwhile, felt the energy of a handful of witches aboard. It spiked her arousal and made her hungrier for her love. She sped her finger, purposely overwhelming Rio with shocks of pleasure. Rio cried out, her hands tightening on her biceps. Agatha watched her closely, taking in every detail, every twitch of her lip, the fluttering of her lashes.

Before Agatha could continue, Rio abruptly turned the tables. She spun Agatha onto her back, shoving her dress up to her waist. She looked down at her bare cunt, tilting her head.

“No undergarments? Looks like you had a plan,” Rio said.

“You know me,” Agatha purred, “Always prepared.”

Rio dove down between her thighs, plunging her tongue into her. Agatha arched her back off of the wall that had tilted with the boat, effectively becoming more of a floor.

People panicked and scrambled around them, not even noticing what was unfolding between the two women. It was always the most delicious thing about the disasters Agatha created. The chaos around them allowed them to have the most depraved experiences in public.

Rio’s dark eyes were fixed on Agatha’s face. She fucked her slowly at first, grinding her tongue against the most sensitive spot inside of her. Agatha’s eyes shot open, her hips flying up. Rio pinned them back down as she moved faster, nudging at her clit with her nose.

Agatha’s hand shot down and tangled her hand in her hair, knocking her hat off. She rolled her hips, trying to fuck her back before Rio laid an arm across them to keep her still. Agatha whined in a rare show of weakness, one that only her wife could draw from her.

“Fuck… Rio!” She moaned as Rio pulled her in closer by her waist.

Rio groaned in reply, the vibration shivering against Agatha. Agatha’s jaw fell as her pleasure crested, crashing over her like a heavy wave. Rio coaxed aftershocks from her while cleaning her arousal. Whimpers left her lips, making Rio look up at her again, taking in the breathtaking sight of her wife gasping against the back of her hand. She turned her head and sucked on the skin, leaving a dark welt on her inner thigh.

Rio emerged from between her legs. She crawled over Agatha, looking down into her blue eyes. She gently moved her hand from her lips and captured them herself.

“Mi amor,” Rio whispered.

“Mi corazón,” Agatha replied, “I love you.”

1755 - Lisbon

“I hate you…” Agatha hissed.

Her fingers were inside of Rio. Two, then three, then four. Rio let out a sharp scream as Agatha stretched her to her limit, tucking her thumb inside. Rio’s face was a portrait of pain, but her arousal only grew. Agatha smiled sadistically as she made a fist inside of her. Rio’s breath caught, her walls strangling her hand. Her arousal squirted from her, the agony burning into pleasure.

Agatha roughly yanked her hand from her, leaving Rio empty. She screamed out from the violent move, clinging to the trunk of the tree behind her in an attempt to keep herself upright.

Agatha gripped her shoulder and pushed down until the weak-kneed woman was on the ground. She swung her leg over, straddling Rio’s face. She lowered herself, using her like a toy. Rio worked with a desperation, needing to give Agatha everything she could while still knowing it would never be enough.

Agatha panted as she fucked her face. Rio thrusted her tongue inside of her, tasting the flavor she craved more than anything. She watched Agatha move like a woman possessed. Her hair was wild and her expression feral. In the distance, the shore was attacked by a massive tidal wave powered by Agatha’s fury.

The churches filled with people celebrating All Saints’ Day collapsed, taking thousands with it. The city of Lisbon was crumbling around them. The impact of the earthquake reverberated as far as the Caribbean from Portugal. Even North Africa was hit. Tsunamis were birthed from the epicenter. From Agatha.

The sheer volume of death left Rio’s head spinning. Nearly one hundred thousand dead. Of that body count, thousands of witches perished, their magic moving in flashes, traveling over several countries, endowing Agatha with power.

The violet glow surrounding her was blinding, the magic of the dying witches proving to be almost too much for Agatha. She shook violently as she kept moving over Rio. She leaned forward on her knees and pressed her palms against the tree. She screamed as her overpowered body unraveled for the very woman she was trying to dominate. She crawled back so that she was eye to eye with Rio, glaring down at her with irises swimming in a deep purple as magic pulsed through every cell of her body.

The dark eyes looking back at her welled with tears that were all too human for an entity like Death. Rio had witnessed the pure rage of grief when she had taken others. She knew it was only born from pain. However, that didn’t take the pain of being loathed by the love of her life.

“He was my son too,” she whispered out, unable to stop the words.

Agatha’s eyes ignited before she shoved her to the ground. Her hands gripped her throat, squeezing as hard as she could. Rio struggled. Her vision blurred, but they both knew that Death could never die. Her windpipe would never collapse. She still wanted her to struggle for breath.

“Some mother you were,” Agatha growled through clenched teeth, “You killed your own son…”

Rio wheezed as she whispered, “He was already gone.”

Agatha strangled her another minute before letting go. Rio gasped and coughed violently. Agatha looked at her with nothing short of pure disgust.

“You could have saved him.”

“I did. Every day for five years. You don’t know how difficult it was to squeeze time from nothing.”

“And you don’t know how it was to wake up to him that morning.”

“You’re right,” Rio admitted, “I don’t.”

Agatha looked down at her, momentarily allowing her to look at her the way she used to. As the ancient witch who only showed true humanity for her.

“I wish I could have done more,” Rio sobbed out, looking stunned by her own display of emotion, “I am so sorry…”

Agatha had no words that were enough, nothing that would solve the grief between two parents. She only had a question.

“Do you see him when you bring others over?”

“Not fully,” she said, “Only shadows. Only whispers… For me to be too close would disturb the balance. His mothers are not fated to be with him yet. I cannot force when that reunion will be. But… He leaves me flowers. He leaves us flowers.”

Agatha simply cried then, unable to contain it any longer. The fact that Rio had glimpses of him while she had nothing should have angered her more, but it only led to another question that was more important than her rage.

“Is h… Is he happy?” The

“Yes,” Rio said without a second thought, “Someone with earth magic… Nicky can only make roses when he is happy. He leaves roses everywhere he goes.”

Agatha’s tears fell directly from her eyelashes to Rio’s cheeks. When Rio tried to cup Agatha’s cheek, the other woman wrenched her face away. She closed her eyes, trying to force her mask to hide her from someone who knew her completely. She opened them, but still revealed her own adoration and passion for the woman in front of her, despite her anger. That look would fuel Rio in the centuries to come. They would remind her that their bond had withstood the worst tragedy possible. Emotion would crash against it like the water crashing against the sand miles away, but that bond would always hold.

Agatha came to the same conclusion internally, beneath the storm of trauma and misery. She was cursed and blessed to be forever bonded to Death. Her lips collided with hers with a painful impact. Purple flowed from her to Rio, tying them together in that moment. She was there one second and pulling away the next. Rio sat up as Agatha left, walking into the clouds of destruction left in her wake.

For years and centuries later, Rio would leave Nicky’s roses by Agatha’s bed as she slept to give her comfort. She would keep half for her and give half of the blooms to his other mother.

Agatha, for her part, would pretend to be asleep when she would hear the familiar footsteps. Death could come like a thief in the night, but Agatha occasionally felt it just before. She would savor the kiss laid upon her forehead, the light touch of her fingers as they brushed stray hairs from her face. She savored Rio in a way she could handle during those first few decades following Lisbon before calling upon her time and time again with unprecedented disasters throughout time.

1872 - Boston

Agatha’s back bent like a bow as pleasure wound itself tightly in the pit of her. She rutted herself against Rio’s thigh as the other woman wolfishly grinned down at her. She sucked in a gasp as her hips stuttered. Rio suddenly moved down her form in a flash, grabbing her thighs and bending her in half. She leaned down and ran her tongue along her soaking cunt. She drank her in as the air around them heated up as the crowds below them ran from the flames.

Agatha wanted to watch the destruction, but Rio was far more captivating. She tangled her hands in her own hair, her body quaking with pleasure. Rio sucked on the little bundle of nerves that made her scream while thrusting two fingers into her.

Agatha’s brows bunched together as her walls strangled them, already overstimulated. As she came again, she pulled Rio out from between her legs and into a kiss. She hummed against her lips with her arms wrapped around her. Agatha slid her hand down between them, teasing Rio. Rio shook her head and took her hand.

“But…” Agatha started.

“This is about you,” Rio replied, bringing her hand to her lips, kissing it with a, “Milady.”

Half the city was reduced to ashes as the flames licked up the building below them. Fire surrounded them as they shared one last kiss. Rio pulled back and smiled as frenzied cries came from the adjoining buildings.

“That’s my cue,” Rio said.

As Agatha pushed the fire away from her with tendrils of purple magic. Vines grew from Rio’s feet, crawling up her body and forming into a tight, form fitting outfit. She stood on the ledge, turning to face Agatha. She waved at her with a smile before jumping off of the roof.

Agatha waited until she was out of earshot to say, “Always a pleasure, My love.”

1912 - The Atlantic Ocean

People plummeted from the ship, trampled one another, froze in the water. As the sounds of pain and anguish surrounded them, the band continued to play. In the middle of the mayhem were a small collection of those who chose to meet death with grace. Being around them was a comfort to Rio. Unlike the fear and terror she was typically shown, these people were more focused on finding peace in remaining moments.

The ship began to sink further in. Jewelry, furs, and other meaningless things that lost all worth in the larger picture of life plunged into the depths of the Atlantic, disappearing into the places where sunlight refused to follow. The lifeboats were full and floating away. Some were filled with vulnerable people who were rightfully saved while others were filled by the ruthless people who pushed their way to the front of the crowds. Their morality didn’t matter to their fates on Earth. That would catch up to them years later when Rio came for them. The people left behind held each other and sobbed in the realization that there was no way to escape their demise.

The musicians played to calm the passengers, the transcendent sound of strings flowing through the screams. Agatha held a hand out to Rio, who took it in hers. She pulled her in, pressing her cheek to Agatha’s as they danced. Rio hummed their song into her ear. The stars shone down on them with a beauty that stood in opposition to the tragedy unfolding beneath.

Next to them sat an elderly married couple who chose to stay. The wife had refused to leave him behind when offered a seat on the lifeboat. She wouldn’t take someone else’s place when hers was with her love. He tried to convince her to leave, but she shook her head. They held hands, listening to the music while gazing at the moon.

Agatha looked at them over Rio’s shoulder and saw the devotion that she and her own wife shared. The words the woman spoke to him earlier were some of the most romantic she had heard. “Isidor we have been together for all these years. Where you go, I go.”

She realized that the same applied to her and the woman in her embrace. Regardless of what happened, of what they did, of how they tried to resist, they were each other’s home. Although she wasn’t yet ready to fully welcome Rio back into her life, she knew that she would be sooner rather than later. Like the couple beside them, they would walk through life together.

The old man kissed the back of his wife’s hand, earning a youthful blush from her. Rio could feel their acceptance. The two would greet Death as they would an old friend.

This story was based on the Lisbon Earthquake of 1755, the Great Boston Fire of 1872, and the sinking of the Titanic in 1912.

If you enjoyed this story, please leave a comment and reblog it! Also, check out my other playlist fics!

Thank you for reading ♥️

[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

[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

[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

[foxesscramble]

Advent Calendar: Day Eleven

Christmas Tree - Post Canon - Hackers AU || "You're blushing!"

Andrew x Neil

@allforthegamebingo

----------

A look into Andrew and Neil decorating Christmas Trees through the years…

Year One:

They fight a lot over whether they should have white, yellow, or colorful lights on the tree. Neil honestly kind of wants all of them (he’s never had a Christmas tree before) but Andrew is adamantly against any lights that aren’t the warm yellow ones (he has had a Christmas tree with every form of light you could think of through all of his years in the foster system). 

Finally, Andrew relents and lets Neil have colorful lights. (Neil hates them but pretends he loves them because he cannot admit defeat after Andrew spent so long telling him they were the worst ones.)

They rope the rest of the foxes into decorating the tree with them and it’s a little lopsided and definitely clustered with too many ornaments. The ornaments and colored lights clash terribly but it makes Neil almost giddily happy every time he sees it in their living room.

Year Two:

Neil decides to go with warm lights that year since he knows they’re Andrew’s favorite. The ornaments are mostly the same vibe, but there are a few that Nicky dug up that were from the twins' childhood. (Andrew thought that they were lost through the years, but apparently, they had been put in a box that Aaron’s mom had been given when she collected him.) 

Wymack buys them a whole bunch of gag ornaments but Neil takes more care of them than he would ever admit. Bee gets them ornaments as well but they’re gorgeous, glass ones with delicate designs. Andrew had a minor breakdown over them one night and confessed through tears that no one had ever cared enough about him to get him a gift that he really wanted. (He had told Bee in an appointment that he thought that the nicely painted glass ornaments were the best ones and she had hummed and moved on. He didn’t think she would remember. She had.)

Christmas was a weird and endlessly triggering time for them but through the years they tried their best to replace the memories with happy ones and they had plenty of family to help them along the way.

Year Five:

There were a lot of kids that year. Katelyn and Aaron had twins who had turned one the month prior. Dan and Matt had a three year old. Kevin had a four and a half year old. Nicky and Erik had adopted a six year old together. Renee had adopted a five month old and was currently rocking the single mom life. (Allison had moved in to help her and Neil may be oblivious to it but Andrew had told him something was going on there and Neil believed him wholeheartedly.) 

The fragile ornaments had to be moved up that year so that none of the kids could knock them off the tree. (Neil trusted his cats not to knock them off but he wouldn’t risk the kids breaking Bee’s ornaments.)

After the kids had hung up some of the stuffed and plastic ornaments, they baked cookies and let the kids decorate them with different colored frosting. Neil, Katelyn, Aaron, Dan, and Allison were on kid duty while Andrew, Renee, Matt, Nicky, and Kevin were on clean-up duty. They all settled in and let the kids pick what Christmas movie they would watch that night. (This became a tradition, the first movie they picked was the Polar Express then the next year it was Frosty and when the kids got a little older it turned into Elf and then the Grinch. The Nightmare Before Christmas seemed to terrify half of the kids so they put that one off until everyone was over the age of 11.)

Year Eight:

They’re almost not together that year to decorate because Neil’s exy games didn’t line up as well with Andrew’s that season. Andrew and Bee put the tree together that year (yes they bought a fake one, Neil’s allergic to true pine) and waited for Neil to get home before decorating together. Neil thanked them continuously for including him and apologized again and again for not being there. 

It was a nice and needed bonding moment for Andrew and Bee. Andrew still talked to her about issues he had every now and again but it was more motherly advice than therapist advice that he got nowadays.

Christmas was at Dan and Matt’s that year so they packed their stockings (Allison and Renee had gifted everyone with new ones that had their names embroidered on them one year as a present) and their cats and made their way to the Boyd’s. 

The children were beyond excited at their arrival. (All of the kids adored Uncle Andrew which was a shock to everyone but Neil and Aaron, both of whom have felt the need to have Andrew’s approval.)

The kids watched Barbie and A Christmas Carol that year which Dan and Allison thought was wonderfully reminiscent of their own favorite Christmas movie. (Kevin couldn’t help the fondness he felt when he watched the wondrous look in Amalia’s eyes as she watched the movie. They go home after Christmas and spend a week watching all of the classic Barbie movies. Amalia’s favorite is the Diamond Castle and Kevin’s is the Three Musketeers.)

_______

Christmas was a time that brought all of the foxes together. The kids got to see their cousins and aunts/uncles. They got to see their grandparents (Coach, Abby, and Bee). Christmas rotated houses every year and the kids got to pick a movie every year. (As the kids got older and unable to agree on a movie they would all put a movie into a hat and Andrew would pick a paper from the hat and that’s what they would watch.) Through the years, the traditions grew and morphed and they enjoyed the time they spent together. It was a time of happiness and gratitude for their (not so little anymore) family. The horrors of the past faded into scars and the content feeling in the present and hopefulness for the future settled into their souls warmly.

[dustisus]

Assigning the Foxes songs from my Spotify Wrapped based on their numbers (and whether I think the song fits them)

inspired by @odetojupiter !

1 - Dan - The Feminine Urge by The Last Dinner Party

Oh, pull your boots on, boys And push me down I'm only here for your entertainment

I am a dark red liver stretched out on the rocks All the poison, I convert it and I turn it to love Here comes the feminine urge, I know it so well To nurture the wounds my mother held

[...]

Failure to commit to the role, I admit Was a failure you achieved on your own Do you want me to care when you just disappear? I can't win them all (I can't win them all)

I do think this song fits her. "Only here for your entertainment" fits well with her work as a stripper, and the rest about her role as the person who has to keep the Foxes together. Maybe not by love, but by force, thus "Do you want me to care when you just disappear? I can't win them all"

2 - Kevin - On Your Side by The Last Dinner Party

I wish I didn't want you Wish I could do without This blood on my face Where you teeth sunk in Bite me again

When it's 4 AM And your heart is breaking I will hold your hands To stop them from shaking If it takes all night I will be on your side

Kevjean anthem. "Where your teeth sunk in, bite me again"? Jean 'I will rip your throat out with my teeth' Moreau, I see you. And then the refrain is so soft.

3 - Andrew - Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan

You can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth

Besides this line, which is basically a quote from Neil, I don't really see it.

4 - Matt - Francesca by Hozier

Do you think I'd give up That this might've shook the love from me Or that I was on the brink? How could you think, darling, I'd scare so easily? Now that it's done There's not one thing that I would change My life was a storm, since I was born How could I fear any hurricane?

I can see this part said to Matt by Dan. The whole song also has a feeling of devout, fought-for love that I can find in their relationship.

5 - Aaron - Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan

Won't make my mama proud, it's gonna cause a scene

[...]

And you dance at the club Oh mama, I'm just having fun

You know I was gonna say no, this song can't be related to Aaron. But Aaron has dreams (of being a doctor, not a dancer) that his mom ridiculed. And he DOES dance at the club. So... it fits a little?

6 - Seth - Nothing Matters by The Last Dinner Party

I hope they never understand us

I put my heart inside your palms My home in your arms Now we know nothing matters Nothing matters

There is a bit of the tragedy of Seth Gordon here, but I don't know.

7 - Allison - Nothing Works by Declan McKenna

I feel wrong, I feel rehearsed I try to fix myself but nothing works I sing the song, and you didn't like the words I try to fix myself but nothing, nothing Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing Nothing, nothing, nothing works

This does not fit with the Allison from the canon at all, as canon Allison is so strong-willed. But maybe she did want to change and fit in with her family before. I don't feel strongly about this one though.

8 - Nicky - Too Sweet by Hozier

You keep telling me to live right To go to bed before the daylight But then you wake up for the sunrise You know you don't gotta pretend, baby, now and then

Don't you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake? Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze? If you're drunk on life, babe, I think it's great

This doesn't really fit with Nicky x Erik. It fits insanely well if it were about Nicky x Kevin though, but I feel like no one's really ready for that.

9 - Renee - Flea by St. Vincent

Once I'm in, you can't get rid of me

Yeah this doesn't really work for Renee at all, according to me. But according to Renee, I don't know. Based on her saying she's a bad person trying very hard to be a good person, I'm not really sure about how she perceives herself or her motivations.

10 - Neil - Burn Alive by The Last Dinner Party

I am not the girl I set out to be Let me make my grief a commodity Do what I can to survive There is candle wax melting in my veins So I keep myself standing in your flames Burn, burn me alive

Have to say there is a lot of burning of Neil. But besides that, this song does not fit him.

11 - Jeremy - Stick Season by Noah Kahan

Now I am stuck between my anger and the blame that I can't face

[...]

So I thought that if I piled something good on all my bad That I could cancel out the darkness I inherited from dad

(I think) Jeremy has canonically not had a real relationship so I don't think this fits him. But those three lines relate to some headcanons I might have about his past.

29 - Jean - Nobody's Soldier by Hozier

Choose between being a salesman or a soldier Just let me look a little older, let me step a little bolder Choose between being a butcher or a pauper Honey, I'm taking no orders, I'm gonna be nobody's soldier

*Sigh*, maybe someday. Really though I find this song a bit too political to relate to Jean.

If you read all of this, thank you so much. If you disagree with any of my opinions about whether the songs fit them, please tell me! I can be convinced otherwise

[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.