#shaking crying throwing up holding him gently tucking him in | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mikkomacko · 5 months ago

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Him and I - Falling Angel

Pairing: Mob Nico Hischier x reader

Warnings: crying, discussion of violence and death, a little bit of angst but mostly fluff with our fav mafioso

Enjoy! xx

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You spend a lot of time staring at walls and ceilings now. Not that you particularly like it, but it’s one of the few things that doesn’t make your head pound. The pain is getting better, you don’t have to hide in the dark bedroom every other hour anymore but it still leaves you dizzy and upset.

These are your last few days in Switzerland and you get to spend them laying on the couch. At least the boys have found a way to keep you company and keep themselves busy.

“Pass, pass, pass!”

Jack has always been loud. You’ve known that since the moment you met him and could hear his voice over everyone’s else’s in The Rock for the rest of the night. Nico used to joke that he was so good with the ladies because he was the only one they could actually hear.

Even with his attempts to be quiet for your sake, his voice makes your temple throb. You eye twitches uncomfortably, gaze half focused on the FIFA game on the tv as Luke’s character passes to Jack. You don’t know how they manage to follow along with so much happening, but it’s entertaining to watch them.

Knowing if you keep watching you’ll eventually throw up your lunch all over the living room, you instead watch them. The coffee table has been moved to the far end of the room, the large fur rug that once lay in front of the fire now lays in front of the couch. All four Devs boys are sprawled out on it, backs against the sofa and feet stretched out towards the fire place.

They’ve been like that for days, sat on the floor together with controllers and Gatorades. And you usually take up the other couch, tucked under a blanket and head flat on the cushion so you just have to press your cheek into the fabric to watch them. That or look up at the white ceiling and watch the fan spin round and round.

Jack and Luke must score because they high five each other and attempt to quietly cheer while Alex throws his head back against the couch and Mercer pulls at the fluffy rug in frustration.

You wince, not sure if it’s from the volume or guilt for not telling the boys that Nico had fucked you into the fur of that very rug just a couple days ago. Before you can think on it too much, soft fingers are brushing the side of your face, drawing your attention.

Nico stands above you, leaning over the back of the couch to press his palm into your forehead. His skin is cold, finger tips chilled from getting more firewood from outside, and you lean into it, the weight of his hand dulling the pounding in your head. He frowns down at you, flicks his eyes up towards the boys.

“Inside voices or m’taking the game away.” He warns, and that’s not the first time you’ve heard those words lately. Almost immediately the boys fall silent, hushed whispering filling the air before someone gently apologizes.

“It’s ok,” you say, closing your eyes and letting Nico’s hold anchor you. “S’not you guys.”

His thumb strokes over your hairline. “What do you need baby?”

You shake your head, blinking your eyes open to look at him. Nico just watches you for a moment, silent and observant with his lips pursed. Fortunately he doesn’t look at you all sad and guilty anymore, even in moments when he knows you’re hurting.

“M’gonna change and then come lay with you, ok?”

Nico leaves, taking the cool feeling of his hand with him and annoyance bubbles in your gut. Slowly, you get up from the couch, trying to avoid any head rushes or dizziness as you tiptoe around the boys.

“What do you need? I’ll get it.” Luke is already moving to get on his feet, almost tripping you as you step over his lanky legs.

“I’m good. Just getting some water.” You assure, laughing when he lifts a hand up for you to hold as you walk. The rest of the boys take after him, all holding out their palms to keep you steady as you navigate their gangle of limbs.

You don’t need the help, but the gesture is so sweet it burns in your chest and you instinctively reach up to touch the pendant around your neck.

“Hey.”

A knot forms in your throat, your fingers tightening around the little devil horns. Timo is leaning against one of the counter tops, drying off his hands.

You swallow, turning to open the cabinet with the cups.

“Hey.”

Moving to the fridge, you keep your gaze down and fill up the glass with water. It’s awkward, just as it has been since he left you at the hospital. Timo’s never been good at fixing things, and you’ve never been good at giving him the chance to even try.

“You look a lot better,” he says tentatively. “The bruising and stuff.”

Bringing the glass up to your lips, you just nod and take a sip. It feels wrong to walk away from him, so you don’t. You just stand there, holding your water and staring out the kitchen window.

“Are you ever gonna look at me again?”

You shrug, take another drink of water and try to ignore the pounding of your heart in your throat. Timo sighs, and you can picture him rubbing at his right eye like he always does.

“What do I have to do to fix this? You want to me get on my knees and beg? Cry?”

This time you do look over at him, stomach twisting when you meet his gaze. The usually bright and beautiful blue of his eyes is dull and cold, so sad and unlike your best friend.

“I don’t know,” you murmur, because you really don’t. You want to fix this, want to forgive Timo but it’s hard for you to get over feeling betrayed, especially by him.

“You forgave Nico,” he argues weakly, “what’s the difference.”

Bristling, you scoff. “The difference is that it’s Nico. I get why he’d be hesitant about my abilities, not you. You’re the one I train with, the one I’ve spent miserable hours with learning to fight and survive. And you still doubted me.”

Timo’s offended, you can tell by the way he stands up straighter and tilts his head to the side. Narrowed eyes zeroing in on you. “I was just following orders, doing what I was told.”

It’s a valid point, at least to him. And that makes it hurt even more. Even though he’s your best friend, he still chose Nico over you. His loyalty still doesn’t lie with you let alone the both of you, as it should.

“I don’t care,” you mumble, looking back out the window. Tears have begun to prickle behind your eyes and you don’t really want to cry in front of him right now. “M’sure Marcelo was just following orders too. Doesn’t mean it’s right.”

“Don’t do that, don’t make me seem like him.”

Timo scoffs. “I didn’t say that,” you argue “but it’s funny that you immediately attached yourself to him.”

Rubbing at your burning eyes, you blink a few times and notice it’s begun snowing outside. You wish you could go out there and bury your head in the piles of it.

“I wouldn’t hurt you like that.” Timo defends but he sounds flat, like he’s lost all the fight in him.

You have too, and you want to go lay down and sleep. “No, you wouldn’t,” you agree with him, “but you’d hurt me in other ways, that’s for sure.”

“Y/n-“

“Enough,”

Nico’s voice startles you, a bit of water spilling from your glass when you jump and turn to the entry way. He’s changed into a pair of sweatpants, chest bare as his hoodie and coat have been forgotten somewhere upstairs.

He’s not looking at you, dark eyes instead focus on Timo and while he doesn’t look mad, he’s obviously annoyed.

“You can fight with her about this later, when she’s better. Not now.” He tells him gruffly, uncrossing his arms and stepping into the kitchen.

As if he were pulling you by a string, you meet him halfway and step into his chest. Maybe you’re being dramatic or a baby about this, but you can’t help it. You’re hurt, both physically and emotionally and while Nico does have a part in it, he’s also the only person that truly makes you feel safe.

It’s unfair to Timo, you know that. But you deserve to be a little unfair right now.

“Tired,” you mumble, nose pressing into his collarbone. Nico wraps an arm around you, presses his fingers to the back of your head protectively.

“Let’s go lay down,” he instructs, and you hum in agreement, letting him lead you back towards the living room. The blinds have been lowered, dimming the light in the room and the other Devs boys have turned off the game in favor of scrolling through Netflix.

A part of you wonders if Nico told them to. It wouldn’t surprise you and you can practically picture him standing over them, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed as he instructs them to quiet down and turn the game off.

“What are we watching?” You ask, placing your water on the side table and waiting for Nico to sprawl out on the couch before you settle between his thighs. He sits up so you can lean back on his chest, his skin warm even though the fabric of your shirt.

“Whatever you want,” Mercer replies casually, but you don’t want to pick. Especially not after you pull a throw blanket up and over your legs, snuggling into Nico. Your eyes already feel droopy and heavy, tired brain unable to think of a movie you even like.

“Holtzy can pick,” you decide, sending him a lazy wink when he looks over at you. A sly grin takes over his face.

“I told you she wouldn’t want to pick,” he address Nico, “she’ll be out in two seconds tops.” You hear your boyfriend scoff, slipping his hand under your shirt to rest in your belly. You silently laugh and he lightly pinches at the softness of your stomach when he feels your shoulders shake.

Alex puts on an Adam Sandler comedy, one of the new ones you haven’t seen yet and you’re glad. Nico loves comedies but he hates rewatching movies, so at least he’ll be entertained.

Tilting your head back, you pucker your lips and press a kiss to the scar under Nico’s chin. His scuff is growing out, and it tickles your lips enough that you have to scratch at them afterwards but it makes him chuckle so you don’t care.

Settling back into his chest, you watch the into of the movie through droopy eyes. Timo comes into the living room just before your eyes fall shut, settling into the couch behind the other boys. You don’t see if he looks over at you and Nico, but it feels like he does just before you fall asleep.

~~~~

You’ve never been a fan of early rising, not until you met Nico. He likes to get his days started right away, likes to be out in the sun and feel like he’s actually doing something. When you first started seeing him you thought maybe he was lying about simply liking the morning. Like maybe he had undiagnosed anxiety or was a workaholic and couldn’t let himself sleep in.

Now you think he really just likes the morning.

And you don’t blame him. The house in Switzerland is peaceful, silent except for the groggy words exchanged between the two of you and the cautious movements of making breakfast without waking the boys.

Nico’s in his briefs and a black hoodie, pin straight hair tangled on the left side of his head and eyes still puffy. Even so he looks handsome, all dimples and sleepy smiles as you help him whisk eggs for breakfast.

The quiet is nice. Not that you don’t love the ruckus of having your family in the house with you, but you also love the moments you can just exist with Nico.

No Jack also means no pounding headache.

“Why are you drinking that?” You ask Nico when he places two glasses of iced matcha on the countertop in front of you.

He shrugs, sliding one over to you before bringing the other up to his lips and taking a sip. You don’t miss the way his nose slightly scrunches, green foam lingering on his top lip.

Giggling, you reach over the island counter and cup his jaw, wiping the matcha away with your thumb.

“You like it,” he explains, catching your wrist when you pull back and bringing it closer, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Figured I’d try again.”

His voice is still deep and gruff, lazy accent lisping some of the words and it’s so cute you can’t help but smile at him.

The compliment is on the tip of your tongue, eager to jump out just so you can see him blush and get all shy, but the words never come. They’re forgotten by the soft knock on the front door.

Eyebrows furrowing, Nico looks at you and then towards the entryway to the front door, and back to you.

“Don’t look at me,” you say, taking your hand back and reaching for your glass instead. “I don’t know anyone here.” You take a drink, following him out of the kitchen and down the short hallway.

The figure of a woman looms through the blurred glass of the door, but Nico must recognize her because he puts a hand out to stop you.

Your heart stutters, fear clawing at your throat when he turns to you and looks worried. You know that look, know what it means. Whoever is outside the door shouldn’t be here, more for your sake than Nico’s.

Immediately you think of Lena, imagine that somehow she’s found her way back to Switzerland and is here to torment you some more.

“Shit, sorry, s’ok I swear,” he immediately soothes, taking your face in his hands. Nico strokes your cheeks, biting at his lip as you let his words sink in for a second. It’s not until you’ve taken two deep breathes do you realize that you’re practically tearing a hole in his hoodie where you’ve biting your hand in the fabric to hold onto him.

“S-sorry,” you whisper embarrassed, struggling to get your knuckles to relax.

He shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry for that,” he tells you earnestly, whatever else he was gonna say interrupted by another knock on the door.

“Nico, I can hear you at the door. Open up.”

It’s his mother, you realize, immediately understanding why he looked at you like that. You haven’t seen Katja since the family lunch all those days ago and you suppose she’s heard about what happened and is here to talk about it with Nico. Especially since one of the people you forced Luca to banish did business with Rino.

You let go of Nico and take a deep breath, placing your hand on his back in what you hope is a comforting manner as he undoes the lock and opens the door.

Katja is dressed to the nines, her styled hair tucked under a fur winter hat that matches the long fur coat she wears. Diamonds peak out from under the collar, matching the ones on her ears and her finger. You look down, notice that even her snow boots are slick and elegant, and somehow look like they even have a heel in them.

Suddenly the boxers you stole from Nico and his old Team Suisse shirt feel like rags on you.

Kicking the fresh snow off her boots, she enters the house and you and Nico both step back in sync. As if being approached by a dog with foam at its lips.

“Glad to see you’re still a morning bird,” she says in greeting, adjusting her Chanel purse in the crook of her elbow.

“You too,” Nico replies, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame the tangles and knots. “Father still asleep?”

Katja clicks her tongue. “You know how he is, him and Luca, out like logs until at least 10.”

Insecure and unsure of what to do, you just nod at her words and reach up to fix the cowlick at the nape of Nico’s neck for him. That was the wrong move, however, because now she’s looking at you.

“Hello y/n,” she says politely, and while her face looks just as emotionless as it did when you met her, there’s something in her tone that’s different. Something that feels familiar.

“Good morning Katja,” you croak out, fingers finding your pendant and clutching at the metal. “Do you want coffee or anything? Nico and I were making breakfast if you want to stay?”

You’re rambling, you know that, but it’s suddenly hit you that she’s looking at the bruises on your throat and the healing stitches on your head. The last thing you want is for her to say something, and you’re tempted to duck behind Nico and hide.

Instead you keep yapping.

“Nico take your moms coat and-“

“That’s quite alright,” she cuts in, stopping Nico from reaching for her things. “I stopped by to see if you’d like to take a drive with me?”

You freeze, mouth parted in confusion and dig your fingertips against the pointy horns of the devils charm.

“Mother we’re not even dressed-“

“Not you,” she cuts him off, “just y/n.”

Once again you don’t even know what to say. What does she want with you? Is she mad about Lena’s family? Does she want to take you away from Nico so she can banish you from the country as well?

Realistically you know that would do nothing to keep you from Nico. He’d give up Switzerland for you, you’re sure of it. He’s given it up before for less. The thought is still terrifying though, mostly because she’s terrifying.

“She doesn’t go without me,” Nico states firmly, reaching his hand behind him for you. You cling to it, hold on for dear life to keep from spiraling into an anxiety attack.

Katja looks at him with stern eyes and an unimpressed tilt of her head. You don’t know what makes you say it but before either of them can speak you spitting out an agreement.

“Of course I’ll go,” you squeeze Nico’s fingers when he whips around to look at you. “Just let me change.”

Pleased, she folds her hands in front of her and nods. Nico stares at you in bewilderment, shaking his head and turning to hide you from his mother with his body.

“It’s ok,” you whisper to him. “I’ll just go for a bit and I’ll call you if I need to.”

He just keeps shaking his head. “You’re still recovering, and you don’t know what she wants or-“

“She’s your mother, Nico. It doesn’t matter what it is, I need to go.”

Unimpressed and annoyed, he sighs through his nose. You let go of his hand, reach up to hold his pouting cheeks. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you force a smile.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” You joke, but he doesn’t think that’s funny by the way he glances at the wounds on your skin and scoffs.

You kiss his cheek in apology, quickly ducking away and towards the stairs to change. Hopefully giving him a bit with just his mother will calm him down, and give him a chance to set some ground rules.

Toothbrush hanging between your lips and deodorant stick in hand, you picture him standing over Katja, hands on his hips as he tells her how long you can be gone, what streets and neighborhoods to avoid, that you’re phone is to be on and in your hand every second.

Capping the deodorant, you finish scrubbing your teeth, spitting toothpaste into the sink with a grin. Nico can be overbearing and overprotective, but you love him for it. His instructions and rules never feel like too much, like he’s restricting you. Instead they make you feel safe, loved. It’s a nice feeling to have again after feeling so scared and embarrassed lately.

Ten minutes later you’re tiptoeing down the stairs to find Nico sitting across from his mother in the living room, the mess of pillows and blankets from the boys splayed out on the floor between them.

“Sorry about the mess,” you tell her, Nico rising at the sound of your voice. He’s got your coat in his arm and your boots resting by his feet. “The boys stayed up late playing video games last night.”

Katja looks around, slightly confused. “The boys?”

Nico holds your jacket open for you, helps you slip your arms in. “From Jersey,” he answers. “A few of them flew out to see her.”

You turn and his fingers fall to the zipper, latching it and dragging it up to your chest. He’s still pouting when you look at him, thick fingers now snapping the buttons shut for you.

Katja makes a noise of understanding. Holding Nico’s shoulders for balance, you shove your feet into the boots, not even thinking about tying them since you’re just sitting in the car. That’s not good enough for Nico though because he sits back in the couch, leaning down to tie them for you.

Your cheeks burn, Katja’s gaze heavy on you as her son bundles you up through grumpy sighs and petulant eyes. Dodging her eyes, you wiggling your feet in your too-tightly tied boots while Nico rises to his feet again.

“Phone?” He questions and you dig it out of your pocket to show him you have it. Nodding proudly, you put it away and he smooths your hair down.

“30 minutes,” he informs you, and you try not to laugh as his predictability. “If you’re gonna be late, if roads are bad, if you don’t feel well you call me.”

You nod through his words, making sure to not look away from his eyes so he knows you’re listening. “Don’t get down anywhere, unless you absolutely have to, and don’t talk to anyone but Katja, understand?”

Narrowing your eyes, you hold your fingers to your forehead and salute him. “Aye aye boss,” you joke and he rolls his eyes, features easing up as he fights off an amused smile.

“Alright, alright,” Nico relents, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head before dropping his hands to his hips. “Get outta here, I’m gonna get ready and finish breakfast for when you get back.”

“Ok,” you murmur, lightly taking his chin between your thumb and pointer finger, overgrown beard tickling the pads of them. “Just don’t shave, alright?”

He looks at you fondly, something warm swirling in those pretty brown eyes of his. “Aye aye boss,” he mocks, left eye fluttering into a wink.

You let go, clearing your throat and turning to Katja. “Ready?”

She’s watching you both with a raised eyebrow, curiosity swimming in her eyes and the look is so similar to Nico it makes you stutter, as if she’s looking right into you the way he does.

“Yes, very well,” she rises from the couch, looks at Nico. “I’ll obey the rules, Nico.”

He doesn’t give any indication that he’s heard her and it makes your skin crawl uncomfortably. “Let’s go then,” you say weakly, motioning to the door. Nico follows you out, stands in the open doorway as Katja gets into the backseat of a black car. You look back at him, meet those strong and certain eyes of his.

And he nods just once, his silent way of telling you he’s sure it’s ok, it’s safe. You slide in behind his mother, let the driver close the door behind you and watch him through the tinted window as the car rolls down the snow covered driveway.

~~~~

Katja spends the first five minutes of her time in silence. The car creeps down the freshly cleared roads, a cruising pace like it has all the time in the world. You hold your phone in you hand, anxiously lighting up the screen every 30 seconds to check the time and make sure Nico didn’t call or text.

Finally, she motions to the driver and a partition slides up, sealing you two off from other ears. For some reason, that makes you more nervous. Why does she not want her driver listening in?

Sweating, you press the seat warmer button to lower the temperature. Across the car, Katja clears her throat.

“For a moment back there, I thought you and Nico were hiding grandchildren from me.”

It catches you off guard. Of all the things to talk about, she’s saying that? Even more confusing, what does she mean by that? What could make her think you and Nico were secretly parenting children this whole time?

Sending your confusion, she continues. “The mess at the house and the ‘boys’ you referred to. I was afraid I had missed out another part of my son’s life.”

“Oh,” you say dumbly, fiddling with your phone and looking over at her. She’s already looking at you. “Um, Nico wouldn’t do that-we wouldn’t do that. I know he doesn’t share a lot, but he’d share that.”

She lips curl into just the tiniest smile, her eyes gleaming with mirth. “I believe you know my son very well. Apparently you don’t know how much he despises this family.”

Shockingly, she doesn’t sound angry or upset. Neutral, like she’s reporting the weather to you. It makes your heart ache for her. You can’t imagine being a mother and feeling nothing when your child doesn’t like you.

That’s an experience you don’t want to have.

“He loves you,” you tell her, feeling like she has to at least know that. “He tells me that all the time. That he does love everyone here, but he’s different from you.”

Her fingers clench in her lap, so quickly you think you might have imagined it. The rest of her stays stoic and poised.

“I raised Nico in a very specific way. All three of my children were planned, brought up in different ways. It’s simply the way this life works.

“Nico never wanted to be a part of it.”

You don’t really get what she’s saying. It doesn’t matter. Katja glances at your throat, something sad settling in her eyes and continues talking.

“My husband is an only child. He inherited the business from his father. And that left him vulnerable. From the moment Rino and I married we knew we wanted three children, enough to keep the business - and those around it- safe.

“I’m afraid that lesson never made it to Nico. He was always a little rebellious, always stubborn-“

“Determined,” you quickly add, smiling softly when Katja lights up at the word. “Once something is in his head, there’s no stopping it.”

She chuckles fondly. “Yes, determined. And he was determined to get as far away from us as possible.”

The car keeps rolling through the town, the clock shows you have twenty more minutes before Nico will be tearing through the streets, most likely with the boys behind me, still dressed in pajamas and half asleep.

“Nico didn’t see what the business was like when it was just Rino. The way it left us- me vulnerable.”

Katja clears her throat uncomfortably. A rock settles in your gut, the purpose of this conversation becoming clear.

“You were hurt.” It’s not a question. You know the answer.

She inhales, “Yes, a few times. Back then it wasn’t terrible, there was a code against harming the women of the business. But I was intimidated, taken, scared. Anything to rattle Rino, make him give it all up.”

“Did he ever try?” You ask.

Katja nods. “He said he would try but we both know he wouldn’t. This is his life, it’s all he’s known. So we expanded instead, planned our kids and where they would be. In order to protect each other.”

That’s why he was supposed to go to Germany, that’s why his whole life was planned out for him. He was meant to have the role since before he was even born.

You can’t imagine how angry his parents must have been when he vanished.

“Nico being overseas doesn’t give him that protection.” You state.

Katja simply nods, eyebrows pinching sympathetically. “And by extension, you either.”

The car falls silent as you take in her words. Suddenly you’re mad. What right does she have in telling you this? Of showing her disappointment in Nico’s decisions and turning it on you?

“Are you trying to scare me into not being with him?” You snip, “Tell me I’m not safe, that I won’t ever be because you don’t like that Nico chose his own life?”

The time on her little car ride is winding down. The driver circles the block, begins the slow drive back to the house.

“I’m trying to make sure you know what you’ve gotten into,” Katja replies back, her tone a little heated.

“I do know. I-“

“Are you going to marry Nico?”

You pause, confused on the sudden shift but nod. “Yeah I am.”

She looks out the window for a moment and you wonder if somehow you’ve become the most disappointing thing in Nico’s life to her.

Then she turns back.

“This life will always be harder for us,” shockingly, Katja reaches her left hand out and places it on your forearm. “We have taught Nico very well, all of our children. But he’s the first of them to bring marriage into his business. And the fear that comes with that? The sacrifice? It’s something that can’t be taught.”

You understand where Katja comes from. And you’ve known that Nico will never know what it’s like to be in your place as the wife of the boss. If anything, this trip shows that. He had no understanding at all for what happened with you and Lena.

But Katja has failed to take into account that this happened away from home, away from the Devs.

“It’s not a business to us,” you say softly, placing your hand over hers. The large diamond ring on her finger cuts into your palm. “In Jersey, we’re a family. And Nico has made sure everyone in that family knows we take care of each other.”

Katja is such a hard woman to read. She’s always composed and cold, like a Barbie doll brought to life. For the first time since you’ve met her, emotion swells in her gaze and it takes you moment to realize its relief.

She’s been scared. This whole time she was scared for Nico and his safety. Maybe even for your safety.

You swallow, look down at where your hand is holding hers. “I know Nico disappointed you all when he left, but you should know that you gave the world the most strong, level-headed, and capable man I’ve ever met.”

Katja is watching you through wet eyes when you meet her gaze. “He is so easy to love,” you say earnestly. “Even when he’s purposely trying to make it difficult.”

That makes her laugh. You imagine Nico’s always enjoyed pushing against those that love him, testing the strength of that bond.

“I wouldn’t have chosen him and this life if I didn’t think he was worth it. And I can say the same thing for the dozens of boys and men back home that have followed him too.

“We’re not vulnerable, we’re not alone. We’re a family.”

Katja sniffles, blinking away the tears in her eyes and you let go of her hand so she can collect herself. Giving her a moment, you unlock your phone to text Nico that you’re almost home. As usual his response is instant.

Good, I miss you

You bite at your lip, overwhelmed with how much you fucking love him. Another text comes in.

Do I need to kill her?

Unfortunately, you have no idea if he’s saying that to make you laugh or if he’s actually serious. A part of you thinks he’s actually serious. Somehow, that makes it even funnier.

Nico is on the doorstep when you the car pulls up to the house. He’s put on jeans and a beanie, the same hoodie from this morning covering his torso.

His eyes follow the driver as he climbs out of the car and comes around to open your door. You step out, meet Nico’s gaze and hope he can read you. Like always, he can and you can see him visibly relax from across the way.

Katja slips out of the car behind you, whispering something in Swiss German to her driver before walking up the drive with you.

“Mother,” Nico greets, pushing off the doorway he was leaning against. “You’re thirty seconds late.”

She breathes out a laugh, shaking her head fondly at her son and much to your enjoyment, Nico’s cheeks flush. You watch him bite back his grin, try to hide his own amusement even though his dimples give it away immediately.

“My apologies son,” Katja says warmly, not even a bit sorry. Pulling your hands into your sleeves, you squeeze them together to fight off the cold and wonder how Nico could possibly be standing out here in just his hoodie.

Both him and Katja notice at the same time, Nico reaching out for your elbow and pulling you up a step. Instinctively you give him your hands, curling forward when he takes them between his and brings them up to his mouth. Blowing warm air on them, you catch his mother’s eye and feel your ears burn with shyness.

You wonder if she’s used to seeing Nico like this, if she remembers how sweet and kind he is. Did he even get to be like this around them? Or was his life always so cold and scripted?

Katja’s eyes shine with pride, her left eye falling into an effortless wink before settling back on her son.

“I should let you two get back inside, warm up and rest.”

Nico straightens out, still cupping your hands in his large ones. He looks confused, probably having expected more from her visit. You’ll have to tell him that this might have been your favorite moment from the whole trip.

“Before I go,” she digs into her purse, pulls out a little black box and you feel your heart jump into your throat. “I wanted to give you this.”

You pull back from Nico so he can take the box, his own fingers trembling now as he grabs it from her palm. Looking up at him, he looks shocked. Lips parted in awe.

“This is…” he trails off, opens it to reveal the most stunning silver wedding band you’ve ever seen. The diamond is smaller than the one Katja has on, but it’s bright and beautiful, surrounded by tiny little green gems. “This is supposed to go to Luca.”

Nico’s argument sounds weak and breathless, like he’s in disbelief and doesn’t even know what to do with the ring. Based on his words you guess it’s a family heirloom, a ring from a grandmother or great grandmother that is supposed to go to the oldest son.

Katja shakes her head, reaches over to gently close the lid of the box and rest her fingers over Nico’s. “It goes to the son that most deserves it.”

She looks over at you, gives you a smile that is so motherly and tender it makes you ache. “A man is only as strong and capable as the women behind him,” she turns to Nico. “And you son, are the strongest and most capable man I could’ve ever hoped to bring into this world.”

~~~~

You and Nico don’t talk about it. He presses a kiss to the side of your head as you stand in the entryway, peeling off your boots and jacket. Then he’s dashing up the stairs, and you clean up and put away all your layers.

In the kitchen you find breakfast still warm on the stove so you serve two plates for you and Nico, putting the rest aside for the boys when they get up. You drink your slightly watered down matcha, throwing Nico’s in the sink because you know he won’t drink it and pull out the cold brew you’d put in the fridge for him yesterday.

He comes into the kitchen just as you’re adding a bit of milk to it, eyes lighting up when he sees it. “Where’d ya get that?”

“The fridge,” you sass, laughing when he sneaks up behind you and wraps his arms around your middle. His beard tickles your skin when he tucks his face into the crook of your neck, pressing loud and obnoxious kisses there.

He’s gentle, careful to not agitate your healing bruises and the soft movements make you laugh even more. Nico doesn’t pull away until your laughs have turned to silent gasps for air and you’re pretty much a puddle in his arms, weight held up by him.

He’s laughing too, when he pulls back, turning you to face him. You wipe at your cheeks, smiling so wide your jaw aches and you look at him through wet eyelashes.

Nico’s always been beautiful. You’ve known that since the moment he winked at you from across The Rock. But sometimes he still manages to steal your breath away. When he’s so happy it radiates off of him, all dimples and rosy cheeks, eyes shining and framed by laugh lines.

He looks at you like that now, your heart doing flips and you giggle like a school girl. His smile widens at the sound and he leans in to kiss between your eyes.

“Thank you baby,” he says, reaching around you for his coffee. You clear your throat, try to catch your breath and calm your racing heart.

“Want to eat breakfast in bed?” He suggests and you jump at the offer. Eagerly nodding, you gather your matcha and his coffee, and he grabs the plates.

~~~~

Staring out the large window at the mountains in front of you, you blink sluggishly as Nico gently combs his fingers through your hair.

“Do you want to talk about?”

His voice is low and soft, like he’s afraid you might have been sleeping and he doesn’t want to wake you. You wonder if he’s been doing that all week, trying to talk to you in these in-between moments and he always caught you when you weren’t awake.

“About what?”

He hums, the sound vibrating in his chest and against your spine. You can’t see his face, but you’d imagine it’s disappointed in your lack of confrontation. Nico has never known you to shy away from things, and you feel bad for doing it now.

“Whatever you want,” he says easily “the ring, my mother, Timo…” the silence he leaves speaks volumes, both of you knowing what he’s leaving unspoken.

Your heart thumps loudly, nervous and scared of addressing what you know he really wants to talk about. But he’s given you all this time to hide, to ignore all the ugly parts of this trip. Hell, he’s even gone out of his way to defend you from the hard conversation you should be having with Timo.

This is something you can longer run from. Not with that big sparkly ring tucked away somewhere in this room.

“If I wanted to leave,” you start, voice wobbling. “Would you let me?”

You’re not talking about the house, the town, or even Switzerland as a whole. You mean it all; him, the boys, the Devils.

He understands. You can tell by the way his chest rises when he inhales, the breath deep and trembling.

“Yes,” he says after a moment, voice quiet and hallow “if that’s really what you wanted to do, if that’ll make you safe and happy, then yeah I would. And I’d do everything I could to make it happen.”

You wait with bated breath, staring out the window at the lazy snowfall and the snow capped Alps, not that you’re actually seeing it. All you can see is him.

“Before you’d do that,” he continues, that determine edge creeping back into his tone and you feel your heart jump into your throat. “I’d offer something else.”

“Yeah?” You croak out, “what?”

“Me,” Nico murmurs, and his lips ghosts against your neck, breath warm on your skin. “I’d give it up. Take out the inheritance I put into it and sign everything over to the ones that came with me.

“And I’d take you anywhere you want to go, build you a new house for us and the dog and- and maybe a family even. Whatever you want to do, just as long as I get to keep you.”

Relief washes through you, the anxiety and fear that Katja had knowingly put into your heart deflating. Rino never offered her that, was never willing to pick her over everything. And maybe that’s why she’s been so unsafe this whole time. Maybe what her and Rino have is nothing compared to what you and Nico have.

You crawl up onto your knees, moving so that you can face Nico and fall into his lap. He’s droopy, eyes sad and lips pulled down into a frown. Even his hair looks sad, flopping into his eyes that watch you so intently.

His hands shake when they find your hips, drawing you closer to him and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“You get to keep me,” you agree, tongue feeling heavy as tears well up in your eyes. “And you can keep to Devs. I just had to know-“

“If I’d do it,” he cuts in, clearing his throat nervously. “I have a plan for us,” Nico swears, his voice wobbling with emotion and you reach up to push his hair out of his eyes, stroke your thumb over the frown lines between his eyebrows. “In every universe I have plan for us, no matter what I have to give up to make it happen.”

Unable to speak around the lump in your throat, you just nod. But that doesn’t stop the sniffles or the water that blurs your vision. Before you know it you’re crying, big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks and you can’t stop it.

Nico doesn’t even shush you or try to make you stop. He simply reaches up and wipes at your splotchy cheeks, even though it does nothing to keep them dry. You tuck into his shoulder, hiding the stupid whimpers that are squeaking out from your chest into his hoodie.

“It’ll be ok baby,” he coos, rubbing up and down your back gently, and smoothing down your hair. Nico feels so safe, so big and protective holding you like this and the words you’ve been holding back since the hospital finally find the strength to come out, knowing that at the very least he’s got you.

“I failed Nico,” its garbled mess of words, muddied down by your crying and sniffling and his hoodie. You’re surprised he even heard you. But he did.

“What do you mean sweetheart?” He tries to guide you away from his shoulder, and you dig your nails into his bicep to hold on tighter. You’re too ashamed to look him in the eye.

Turning your head, you press your cheek to him so he can hear you this time.

“I did everything I was supposed to do last time and then I got here and it was like I couldn’t think. I left you and Timo, and then I ran and I didn’t even think or fight back. I didn’t do anything you or Timo told me.”

You feel hysterical, squeezing your eyes shut as the words just keep tumbling out and out. And all poor Nico can do is hold you and hope to god it’s enough.

“I was just a stupid crying girl, it was Philly all over again and I kept passing out and crying. How am I supposed to do this, to be this person? I can’t take care of you or the boys, I can’t even take care of myself.”

He sits up, holding you so tightly you almost can’t breathe but it for reason makes you feel even better. Tucking back into your hiding spot, you stifle your whimpers into his neck again and Nico begins to gently rock you back and forth.

“You didn’t fail anyone baby,” maybe it’s the way he’s holding you, like he’s trying to physically gather up the words and squeeze them into your ribs and heart. Or maybe it’s his voice, so strong and confident in what he’s saying. Whatever it is, you calm down enough to hear him, to feel his chest move with every syllable.

“I don’t expect you to be perfect, to be able to do everything for everyone. I’ve spent my whole life in this role and I still fuck it up. I fucked it up with the Flyers and god knows I fucked it up here too.

“But you’re safe now and you’re ok. And we’ll do whatever you want to do. If you don’t want to train with Timo anymore, I’ll get more guards. If you want to train with me instead I’ll switch with him.

“Stay at home, work at the cafe, at the bar, whatever role you want here I’ll give to you baby. Just know you have never once failed me.”

Blinking open your puffy and swollen eyes, you hesitantly pull back to look at him. You hiccup, clumpy eyelashes catching together and Nico reaches up again to wipe at your cheeks.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you that day,” you whisper, gaze falling to embroider logo on his chest because you’ll cry again if you see those beautiful eyes of his. “Going behind your back to Luca, calling the boys. I had to do something though, I had to prove that I could do something.”

He cups your jaw, traces the outline of your swollen bottom lip with his thumb but he doesn’t urge you to look at him. Nico’s always been good at knowing when you need a break.

“You killed Marcelo to show us,” he states, not a question or a guess. “You wanted me and Timo to know that you could still do it.”

“I didn’t forget everything,” you nod sadly, peering up at him through your lashes. “I went too far, I know. But I was so scared Nico.”

“I was gonna kill him,” Nico admits, and you tilt your chin up to fully see him. He looks so casual, like he’s talking about the weather outside or dinner tonight, something normal. You suppose violence in this world is normal.

“I was gonna kill Lena too. After I let her know she could never be you.” He shrugs, tucks a loose piece of hair behind your ear. “I think you did it better baby. And I should’ve told you that there but I was scared too. And guilty.

“Being home, I let my guard down. That’s all I could think about when I saw you in the hospital bed.”

Sniffling, you lean back into him, unsure of what else to say. You’re exhausted, your eyes heavy and you’ve got a headache budding in the back of your skull. Nico just holds you, exactly like you want him too.

“I love you,” you murmur, dipping your fingers into the strands of hair at the nape of his neck.

Nico presses a kiss to your temple. “I love you with everything I’ve got baby.”

You close your eyes, inhale deeply to smell his cologne. “I want to marry you.”

His smile touches the side of your face as he presses his cheek against yours, leaning back into the headboard. “I want to marry you too,” he says earnestly “but sleep first ok?”

Not needing to be told twice, you let yourself fade away, telling yourself that you’ll talk to Timo tomorrow. Everything will be fixed tomorrow.

#mob boss nico hischier #nico hischier #nhl #new jersey devils #nj devils #him and i #nico hischer x reader #fluff #mob wife reader #mob boss au #new jersey devils mafia

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tinylilacbun · 2 months ago

Note

Im currently bored at school, so here's what I think about during my free time😋

This is how Rafe reacts when you don't want to put on sunscreen, whining and almost throwing a tantrum the more he keeps asking you to come here :(( You end up feeling overwhelmed and start to cry. Meanwhile, he is getting tired of your brat attitude 'Okay, okay, no sunscreen, but stop being a crybaby for God's sake.' He sighs and brings you into his lap to soothe you, as he notices you are falling asleep in his lap, he still manages to slowly apply the sunscreen on you, carefully not to wake you up🤭

"Baby, m'not gonna say it again. Come here." Rafe glares at you, his hands on his hips while you're in the pool.

"No! M'playing mermaid! Don't need sunscreen!" You protest, adjusting your goggles before going under the water again.

Rafe sighs, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration, waiting for you to resurface and when you do his expression turns stern.

"You either come out now or swear I'll come get you myself and trust me, you don't want that." He warns you.

You instantly tear up, sniffling loudly. He hangs his head low with a long exhale.

"Fine, no sunscreen then, but stop crying for god's sake." He gives up, raising his hands in surrender as he goes over to sit down on the lounging chair, running a hand over his buzzed head.

He lifts his head again when he hears you get out of the pool, your wet feet slapping on the stone ground as you walk over to him.

You stand in front of him, looking down at your feet, your body shaking from the sudden temperature change.

Rafe reaches for your bluey towel and unfolds it, waving you closer. You quickly get settled on his lap, letting him wrap you in the fluffy towel.

A few minutes pass and he feels you sag against him, no doubt that you fell asleep from the small tantrum a while ago.

Taking that as his only chance he slowly unwraps you from the towel, pursing his lips and hoping you won't wake up as he grabs the sunscreen from the table nearby.

He stops when you stir a bit but luckily quickly get settled again, your breaths fanning against his neck.

Rafe quietly squirts a good amount on his hand before he starts to apply it gently onto your skin and face, waiting a few seconds every time you move.

He looks up when he sees Sofia approaching you both, holding two glasses in her hands and your sippy tucked in the crook of her arm.

"Everything okay?" She asks as she sees the dried tear streaks on your face and Rafe's exhausted expression.

Now it was his turn to throw his head back with a whine.

Taglist

For Everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity

#little!reader #daddy!rafe x little!reader x mama!sofia thoughts #daddy!rafe x little!reader x mama!sofia drabble #my sweetheart chimindity ♡#age regression

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sissylittlefeather · 4 months ago

Text

Heartbreak Hotel

A/N: Whaaaaaaat a smutless one-shot? Never have I ever lol. No, but really. This idea came to me and @ccab and I couldn't not write it. This is Elvis during the filming of King Creole and a very shy reader.

Warnings: kissing, an erection, some sexy thoughts, and a foot rub

Word count: ~2.7k

"Y-you want me to do what?" You hold your clipboard to your chest and shake your head nervously. Surely your boss isn't asking you to do what you think he is. You're not even sure how you ended up working on the set of King Creole anyway. Your father must've had something to do with it.

"Go to the hotel and bring Elvis back to the set. I know we told him we were done for the day but we really need him to try on his wardrobe for tomorrow and the costume people just finished it." You understand the logic behind the request. That's not the part that confuses you.

"But why m-me, sir?" You anxiously chew on your bottom lip. It's been hard enough for you to work here with Elvis wandering around. Walking up to him directly is about the last thing you want to do. It's not that you don't like him. Quite the opposite, in fact. You love him. But you've always been a little mousy and shy and unsure of yourself. The idea of talking to him makes you want to crawl into a hole.

"You're young and cute. This assignment is going to really piss him off. We figured you might soften the blow. He can't very well yell at you." You blink several times and your eyes go even wider. The fact that it won't just be Elvis, it'll be angry Elvis, really makes your heart race like a rabbit's.

"W-what if he won't come?"

"Not an option. Convince him. Now, just go." You consider quitting your job right then, but you know that's not realistic. Sighing deeply, you turn to walk from the small office.

"Y/n!"

"Yeah?"

"Clipboard."

"Oh... yeah..." You hand him the clipboard and cross your arms tightly on your chest.

"Y/n. Please try not to look like you're about to cry." You nod your head and try to rearrange your face, but you are about to cry.

******

Somehow, the next thing you know, you're in the lobby of one of the nicest hotels in New Orleans.

"Can you please call Mr. Presley down here? I-I-I need to speak to him." The receptionist nods and calls up to his room. You don't hear the conversation, too distracted by looking around at the fancy decor.

"Alright. I'll let her know." You turn back to the receptionist. "He says you can come on up. He's in the penthouse. Just push the button with the "p" on the elevator."

You stand there with your mouth hanging open and she turns away to do some other task.

No. He was supposed to come down, not you come up. You look at the elevators and swallow deeply. Then, you walk over and push the button.

Once you're on the elevator, it dawns on you that you're going to be walking into what is essentially his home. That thought hits you like a freight train and you feel like you're going to throw up or pass out or both. Just when you decide you're not getting out of the elevator, the doors slide open and there's a quiet ding. The room is carpeted and you see him sitting on a couch.

"Hey, honey, come on in." He hollers without moving. You feel like you're about to die, but you inch your way into the room anyway and the doors close behind you. He leans forward a little and gestures for you to walk towards him. "C'mon then, I won't bite."

You take a few steps into the room and then try to speak. All that comes out is a quiet squeak, though and you shake your head, frustrated with your own incompetence. He can tell you're struggling, so he stands up and walks towards you. That does not help. He's even taller, more attractive, and more intense up close than far away.

"What is it, honey? They send you to fire me or somethin'?" You look up at him and squeak again. He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and strokes your cheek gently. "You're a shy little thing, ain'tcha?"

"They want you back on set." You breathe a sigh of relief that you were finally able to talk.

"Back on set? No, I'm home for the night." You blink a few times, not really sure how to respond as he shakes his head.

"Please..." It comes out of you as a whispered plea and you want to scream at how pathetic you sound. He smiles softly.

"Okay. But only because you're too damn sweet to say no to." He squeezes the top of your arm and then encourages you toward the elevator with his hand on the small of your back. You really hope he can't feel how sweaty you are as he touches you.

You get back on the elevator and he pushes the button for the lobby. The elevator begins its descent and you stand next to each other in silence. A breath of relaxation washes over you. It's almost over.

Then it happens.

Somewhere between floors 5 and 6 the elevator screeches to a grinding halt. It knocks you off balance enough for him to have to catch you in his arms, your hands on his chest to steady yourself.

"Woah, honey, you okay?" You look up at him frozen in fear. He holds you for a few seconds too long and then stands you back up. His hands stay on your upper arms and you swear it's like he doesn't want to stop touching you.

And he doesn't. He rather enjoyed the feeling of you pressed up against him, your eyes wide and seeking reassurance. But he can't just move in and kiss you like he normally does with other girls. You might actually pass out. So instead, he leans his back against the wall of the small elevator and tries to smile at you in the sweetest way possible.

"Do I make you nervous, honey?" You look over at the elevator buttons like pressing one might get you out of this nightmare, but probably not. "Nobody else here. You're gonna have to talk to me."

You reluctantly look up at him and try to breathe steadily. You're finally able to whisper a response.

"Yes." His face breaks into an amused smile.

"Why?"

"Have you met you?!" It comes rushing out of you before you can stop it.

"I'm not sure how to answer that, sweetheart."

"I mean... I'm sorry..."

"Don't apologize. I'm just not sure I know what you mean is all." For some reason, it's getting a little easier for you to talk to him.

"You're ridiculously famous. You have a presence. And you're unbelievably attr-" You stop yourself and look at the floor, blushing. He steps forward off the wall and tips your chin up, so that you have to look into his face.

"Unbelievably what?" Part of you wants to slap the cocky smirk right off his face, but you'd die before you did that. Finally, you squeak it out.

"Attractive." He steps forward again almost closing the gap between your bodies.

"You know, you're not so bad yourself."

"Gee, thanks."

"No, I'm serious, honey. I'd letcha eat crackers in my bed." Without thinking about it, you burst into a fit of giggles. "It wasn't that funny..."

"I'm sorry; it's just the image of me sitting in your bed eating crackers. Like that's what I'd be doing if I was in your bed." He runs his finger down the side of your face and moves just the smallest bit closer to you.

"What else would you be doing in my bed?" All of a sudden, you're not laughing anymore. Now you're thinking of all the things you might be doing and it makes you blush an even deeper red than you have before. Your heart is going so fast it feels like it might leap out of your chest. He senses your anxiety and backs up a little. "You don't have to answer that, honey. I'm sorry."

He's not used to how delicate you are. It's endearing. Like you need him to take care of you. It's a job that sounds better and better the longer he's on this elevator with you.

You nod and stay quiet, but you kind of miss how close he was to you. His presence, albeit intimidating at first, is comforting.

He turns and slides down the back wall to sit on the floor of the elevator. Then, he pats the floor beside himself. You decide there's not much else to do and he actually seems pretty harmless, so you sit down next to him on the floor and lean back against the wall. It feels good to sit down. You wore new shoes to work today and your feet have been killing you for hours. A small whimper falls from your lips as you try to stretch your feet a bit. You're dying to take the heels off, but you don't want to freak him out.

"What's wrong, honey?" He hears you whimper and his eyebrows come together with concern.

"Oh, nothing. My feet just hurt from these new shoes."

"Take 'em off."

"Really? You don't mind?" He chuckles a little.

"Not at all. There's no tellin' how long we might be stuck in here. Get comfortable." Normally, you'd never do such a thing but your feet do hurt really badly and he's right. You're trapped. You reach down and slowly pull the shoes off of your feet, wincing in pain. Your hose make it look like you have webbed feet, but you really don't care as you gingerly wiggle your toes. He watches you, dying to kiss you. You might be the cutest thing he's ever seen and your feet are so small and pretty.

"Do they hurt bad?"

"Yeah. I shouldn't have worn these today." You tap the shoes together in your hands. "I suppose beauty is pain, though."

He laughs and then an idea settles on him. He's not sure how you'll respond, but it's worth a try.

"You want me to rub 'em?" You look up at him suddenly for three reasons. First, you can't believe he said it. Second, it sounds amazing. And third, there's a hint of something in his voice that almost sounds like uncertainty.

"I couldn't let you do that."

"Why not? I really don't mind and what else are we doin' right now?" The vulnerability on his face melts you and you know you can't say no. You smile bashfully and turn to lean against the other wall and put your feet in his lap.

"Well, alright then. Thank you." He smiles a very natural and relaxed smile and then goes to work massaging one of your feet. You'd be lying if you said it didn't feel amazing. His hands are strong and he seems to know what he's doing. You moan a little louder than you intend to, but your feet were so sore that the relief is almost overwhelming. He looks at you when you moan and bites his bottom lip, thanking God that your eyes are closed as his gaze travels down over your figure. If you weren't so shy, he'd probably already have you half undressed. But he kind of likes that you're shy. It's cute and he can't complain about the added challenge. It's almost getting too easy to get girls to say yes.

You spend the next twenty minutes or so like this. He switches feet halfway through, but you sit in silence, moaning and whimpering every once in a while. What you don't know is that you're driving him absolutely crazy with the sounds you're making. If you're this vocal with a foot massage, how might you be in bed? The thought sends a shiver of pleasure down his spine and he shifts to keep your feet away from his erection. Surprisingly, you're the one who breaks the silence. You look up at him and he's looking down at your feet while he works. You can see his eyelashes and for some reason that makes him seem more real.

"What's it like? Being famous?" He takes a deep breath before he answers, not looking up from your feet, like he's trying to decide how honest he should be. He looks up into your eyes intensely.

"Lonesome. I was trying to think of a nicer word, but that's all that comes to mind. Don't get me wrong, I'm very grateful for everything that's happened. I wouldn't change any of it. But it's really very lonely, not knowing who loves you for you and who loves you for who they think you are."

By the end of it, his voice is thick with emotion and you don't think, you just act. You move back to sitting next to him and entwine your arm with his, taking his left hand in both of yours. He looks down at you as you settle your head onto his shoulder. Something inside him flip-flops and he doesn't feel so alone all of a sudden. He presses his lips to the top of your head gently.

You feel him kiss your hair and are overwhelmed with the need for him to kiss you more. He seems to sense this and tips your chin with his other hand, so that you're looking up into his face. There's only a few inches between his lips and yours and you notice his eyes flicking down as he leans in slowly.

"Can I...?" He asks quietly practically against your lips. This time your whisper is appropriate.

"Yes." He doesn't wait another second to dive into a kiss. It's sweet at first, but before too long, you part your lips and his tongue slides into your mouth. He holds the side of your face and you both sit up and turn towards each other as the kiss deepens. His hand drifts down to your hip and he squeezes it, pulling you towards him gently. You start to lift your leg to climb on top and straddle him, but just as you do, there's a soft ding and the elevator doors slide open.

You gasp and scramble back, wiping your mouth and shoving your shoes back on your feet. He looks at you dumbstruck with how quickly you shifted gears. He's still in the mindset that you're about to crawl in his lap.

"Honey, wait?" He rushes to his feet and tries to smooth his clothing. There's nothing he can do about his massive hard-on, though, so he turns and shoves it up under his belt. He feels you touch him near his hip, but he's too focused on what he's doing to acknowledge it.

By the time the doors open all the way, you're both mostly presentable. He's ushered out of the elevator by a group of his friends and family, led by his manager. You watch as they fuss over him and he makes eye contact with you through the crowd.

He'd give almost anything to be back in that elevator with you to finish what he started. But more than that, he already misses the feeling of companionship. The heavy weight of loneliness is starting to settle in his chest again. He looks down and back up and you're gone.

******

You wipe the tears from your face as you make your way back to your car outside the hotel. If only the doors hadn't opened. What might've happened? Oh well. You'll never know. It's up to him now.

******

Elvis manages to keep it together long enough to assure everyone he's fine, do the wardrobe check, and get back to his hotel. He stands in front of the elevator when it opens and seriously considers taking the stairs to the penthouse. But he doesn't. Instead he steps onto the elevator and slides his hands in his pockets as the doors close.

He gasps softly.

Out of his pocket he pulls a small silver bracelet. It's not his. It must be yours. You must've slipped it into his pocket while you put yourselves back together when the doors opened. He turns over the little silver pendant and finds your first and last name in script.

He smiles widely and kisses the bracelet. Looking up, he whispers.

"Thank you."

He's not sure if he's talking to you or God. Maybe both. Either way, now he can find you. He steps off the elevator and heads into his bedroom.

The pieces of his heart start to come back together and he sets your bracelet on his nightstand.

Tomorrow. He'll find you tomorrow.

******

The End?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you #elvis presley fanfic #elvis fluff #elvis presley fluff

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justasecretflower · 2 months ago

Text

! The Hashira and their bedtime routine with their kids 💤

- 🤍fluff

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Giyu is the one reminding them to do all their productive stuff. Make their bed, change, brush their teeth. Doesn’t co-sleep. Teaches them how to be independent on their own and face their fears of the dark (he just wants to cuddle with their momma more, for the most part). He makes sure always to say “I love you” when tucking them in and makes sure they say it back. It’s huge for them because so many people around him die, he’s so scared that one of his children won’t wake up after not telling him “I love you” or vice versa.

“Yes daddy I did..” Your youngest whines, after being bombarded with a thousand questions by Giyu. Giyu sighs and nods, carefully tucking both kids in and giving them nose kisses “I love you.” His kids repeat it back. Yawns overtaking every word that they say.

Kyojruo cannot leave your kids ALONE. When the baby started sleeping in another room he 100% snuck in there every night to squeeze his humongous body into that tiny crib just to hold his baby. Co-sleep warrior like actually. Gives them lots of cuddles and kisses before bed, even nighttime stories. He’s super animated during the books too. Throwing his hands everywhere, changing his voice. You basically have to drag him out the room because your kid needs to sleep and he’s nuzzling their cheek rn for the 1820th time.

“Husband.” You deadpan “wife.” He looks up at you, hugging your three year old with a death grip, cheek to cheek. An arm sprawled over their eyes and soft snores being lifted from their mouth. “It’s time to let them sleep.” He immediately frowns, giving his baby one more nuzzle and then getting up and looking at you either mischief. Your turn.

Gyomei’s kids cannot get enough of him. Like rengoku just backwards. He’s the type to be one and done, I believe, and I see him as any dad, girl, boy. His kids treat him like a rock wall, I imagine he’s brushing his teeth and tiny hands and feet are slapping against him while his 2 year old is gripping onto his shoulders, one leg sprawled across his back, not even taking up the whole size. He’s incredibly gentle with his child, picking them up with one arm, placing them down on their bed and kissing them on their cheek goodnight. He takes up a lot of the bed, so if your kid ever wants to join you both they’re in for an insane squish between you two.

Sameni will not share you, he doesn’t care. The kid would be crying because of a nightmare and he’d be sprawled all over you, drooling, clinging to you and shaking his head. Until you give him a look.. and he begrudgingly lets the kid in the bed (he’s grabbing onto both of you with a death grip). He wrestles with his kids before bed, and as his finishing move (because he always wins) is throwing them down on their bed (gently).

Obani tucks them into bed and stays there until they fall asleep just watching them. He’s silent, but he’s thinking about how he made such adorable kids, and he waits just in case they need him before bed. He does like having more time with you though, so as soon as he leaves the kids rooms he immediately goes to you and snuggles into your chest. He’s clingy.

Tengen is often busy because of his multiple wives and his job as a hashira. But he never neglects his kid. He makes them feel loved and appreciated, and they have his full attention. Nighttime routine goes a little like this.. His kid gets a bear hug, Tengen spinning them around and doting on them, then they brush their teeth together, splash around in the tub, of course tengen is not in but he’s still drawing some silly drawings with bath crayons, he gets them dressed in mismatched pjs and hums them to sleep. He loves his little best friend so much. He genuinely loves his kid and loves hanging out with them.

Muichiro will often forget something they have in their bedtime routine. You have to be standing in the doorway guiding him through everything you do for your toddler because he forgot. He does just the bare minimum. Teeth brushing, shower, pjs. He doesn’t really have anything special for them to sleep, he just lightly strokes their hair until they lull off into sleep. I kinda see him as a read a baby book type, have the kids head in his lap, stroking their head and reading the words very slowly…

Bonus- aged up! Inosuke as a dad

Your 10 month old baby sat in the tub, damp tuft hair with h/c as the main color with darker streaks and lightening blue at the end like inosukes hair. The baby sat utterly confused while they peered their huge eyes up at their dad. “Da-Da” inosuke points to himself with a huge grin. “The best around, the strongest, the most powerful.” Inosuke brags, flexing a muscle in front of your little one as if they understood one bit. “Ma-“ your baby started up, tiny voice recognizing only one word. “Nononono- Dada!” Inosuke makes a dramatic gesture, grinning. Your baby was now starting to get a little fussy. “See c/n? Dada! Da-Da.” Your baby suddenly gets a focused expression, shutting Inosuke up, while they bring their fist straight to the bath water right in inosukes face. “MAMA” .

___________________________________________

Demon slayer requests open

Tags

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x you #tengen uzui #tengen x reader #tengen x you #giyu x reader #giyu x you #giyuu tomioka #demon slayer sanemi #sanemi x reader #muichiro x reader #gyomei x reader #obani x reader #rengoku x reader #inosuke x reader #i love you #justasecretflower

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devoutekuna · 6 months ago

Text

Nighttime routine

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

Sukuna-

He hates nighttime routines when you were already asleep, having to put his little brat to bed, especially after a long day of her messing about outside. Throwing her a towel as he poured the bucket of water onto her head, watching all the dirt come off her and flush down the drain, scrubbing against her scalp as she played with the duck on front of her, paying no mind to hoe rough he was being. As soon as she was out the bathroom he was already trying to fit her in some clothes.

"Your doing it wrong daddy" throwing off the shirt which was already back to front. He didn't understand why shirts were necessary to her, they clearly weren't to him, he found them restrictive and a waste of material, he'd walk around naked if he could. Fast asleep in his arms as they sat outside, staring at the moon and stars, you in the room behind them. The way she was bundled up in blankets as she slept in the palm of his hand, snoring gently away.

Nanami-

Nanami loves nighttime routine, always opting to take over the shift so that you could rest, the first thing he did was giving them a bath, making sure that the water was the perfect temperature and filled with their favourite bath toys. Hair pulled back as he already knew how messy it would get. "Look dad!" Throwing the poor toy into the water, soaking him from head to toe, a grin still plastered on his face as he tried to ignore the mess.He despises putting his daughter to bed, she was always a hassle when it came to her bed. Always crawling out or finding some excuse to not to sleep, may it be she's not tired or you didn't read her a story despite it being the 2nd one he read.

"The end" closing the book as he cradled his offspring in his arms, her little head resting along his rising and falling chest, hand holding some of his fingers. Feeling peaceful with her father around.

Toji-

He hates nighttime, he is always eating his dinner when his son gets put to bed, hearing the fuss he created as he messed up your stress. Allowing you to get some well deserved rest. "Get in the bath" shaking his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "NO!" He hated bath time with anyone other than his mother, no wonder he never helped you when it came to the bedtime routine. Soon after forcing him to take a bath, he was pouting and crying, trying to justify how much he wanted his mother. Scared he'd wake you up, he stuffed his favourite toy into his hands and tucked him into bed, if the crying didn't stop he'd sometimes have to sit beside his bed and draw circles with his finger in the palm of his hand till he fell asleep.

Geto-

He's used to all her activities, throwing tantrums before bed, tiring herself out before he looked her into bed, that was his go to. "Not fair!" Stomping her tiny feet on the ground, it didn't cause much noise as she wasn't that big. "I don't wanna sleep!" Crying and pleading for a chance to play some more games. Sat on the floor behind her as he laid on the wall, arms crossed over and he just nodded to everything he said, he didn't care, she would still be going to bed it was as simple as that. Soon after her one sided argument ended she was tucked in bed, surrounded by her favourite toys as she laid peacefully there.

Gojo-

He doesn't know anything about kids, having been a spoiled kid and raised by nannies his whole life, he didn't find the need to learn about kids. That was till he had to put one to bed, his little 2 year old. He was as mischievous as him, running around knocking stuff down for his own amusement. "Got ya!" He had just been in a chasing match with his son, running around the house naked as he didn't want to get in the bathtub. Dunking the boy into the water, making sure he couldn't escape since it was so hard to get him in there. "Get off" kicking and screaming as he felt himself touch the water. Water splashing everywhere, soaking his blindfold and hair, but you did have to admit that he did look pretty good with his wet hair and transparent blindfold.

"I hate baths! I'm a big boy so I take showers" folding his arms as he tried to lean back into the water, too busy to release that they were in water.

#geto fluff #gojo fluff #nanami fluff #sukuna fluff #toji fluff #geto x reader #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #sukuna x reader #toji x reader #geto suguru #gojo satoru #sukuna ryomen #nanami kento #toji fushiguro #jjk drabbles #jjk x reader #jjk #𝙳𝚎𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚎𝙺𝚞𝚗𝚊

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euphoricfilter · 1 year ago

Text

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞��𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

more than you'll ever know

tags/ warnings: game designer! jungkook || non-idol au || established relationship || angst || slightly better communication (yippee) || slight comfort || the start of sex fiend jungkook

word count: 1.1k

notes: no taglist !!!!!!!

☆ collaboration with @bonny-kookoo 💞 ☆

☆ series masterlist

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

There’s beat of silence, seconds pulling out into what feels like minutes. The words repeat throughout your mind, sticky resentment clawing up your throat. His phone screen goes black, pitiful reflection of yourself staring back at you.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, pinch of an ache dispersing from between your eyes as you force down a wave of tears. Because what is worse than unfiltered sadness in moments like these, will always unfortunately be hard-headed pride.

Something a little duller aching in your chest, denial veiling your heart as you finally work up the courage to look at him.

His eyes are still wide, mouth open a little with shock, unsure to what you had seen, what he should say.

“Fuck you” you cry, throwing his phone at him, pain ebbing across the expanse of his chest as it hits him square over where his heart resides.

Before the words can even leave his mouth, you’ve scooted off the bed, scuttling into the bathroom. The door slams, click of the lock echoing in Jungkook’s ears.

He turns towards the bathroom door, glancing down at his phone. His tongue presses into his cheek when he sees part of the message, running a hand over his face.

He hears the door to the shower click shut, silence following in the moments after. His feet dig a little deeper into the carpet as he waits, listening if you were going to turn the water on, or if this was a false defence mechanism. More physical walls between the both of you as you slowly craft the more brittle ones of your mind. The tether that was holding the both of you together slowly fraying it seems. Days of watching you, eyebrows constantly marred, pretty face downturned, every thought locked inside the dark corners of your mind.

“Y/n?” he knocks on the door, “Open up”

He hears a hiccup of a sob when he presses his ear to the wood.

“Baby, you’re worrying me, let’s talk” he urges, “Come on”

You pull your knees up to your chest, hands pressing over your cheeks to dry them a little as you swallow down another sob.

“Go away” you shout, “I hate you”

You watch as he pushes at the door handle, another quickfire of knocks vibrating at the door. Somewhere in the back of your mind you wonder if he’s able to knock the door down with raw strength alone, if this was a sliver of respect, he held for you not ramming into it until he was stood before you.

“My love, as much as I’m sure a tantrum is wanted, we need to talk about whatever is happening” he tells you, tugging at the door until the hinges rattle a little.

“I don’t talk to cheaters!” you cry, bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

Jungkook pauses, cogs of his mind slowly whirring to life as his hand pauses, millimetres away from the door.

“Cheater?” he calls out, “Who’s cheating?”

Your feet pad against the tiled floor, lock clicking before you tug the door open. Jungkook’s lips tug down into a frown when he sees you, eyes red-rimmed, bleary with tears, cheeks shiny.

“I saw your phone Jungkook” you snivel, “If you didn’t wanna be with me anymore, why didn’t you say?”

Jungkook’s mouth tips open, utter disbelief wracking throughout his entire being.

“Woah hold on” he shakes his head, “First off, no one’s cheating”

“Your phone—” you start, blinking up at him when he gently presses his finger over your lips, “Don’t shush me” you push his hand away.

“But I need you to listen” he instead takes your hands, thumbs running over your knuckles.

“Maria, Jungkook. Who is she?”

“Oh!” he pauses, “She’s helping me with something”

You pull your hands away from him, stumbling back into the bathroom a little.

“What?” you deadpan, “Getting your dick wet?”

He splutters a little, “No! Why would you even think that?” he shakes his head frantically, “I don’t even know if people her age can get wet—” he stops when he catches your eyes, sheepish grin working its way onto his lips.

“That’s beside the point” his fists clench at his sides, unease still worming its way into his heart, “There has never been a point I haven’t wanted you. I don’t think you realise how much I love you, It’s scary sometimes”

The words catch in your throat, swallowed down when he opens his mouth again.

“Just, please trust me for a little longer. I know I’ve been busy; we haven’t spent much time together… I’ll make it up to you I just need a little bit longer.”

You press the palms of your hands into your eyes, alleviating some of the ache.

“I’m staying at a friend’s house tonight” you say, long drawn sigh easing some of the tension in your chest.

“Huh?” Jungkook’s eyes widen by a fraction, hands lifting to hold you, only to hover slightly.

“I’m sick of this constant push and pull” you murmur, “I’m tired, Jungkook”

He nods, swallowing as his eyes flit across your face.

“If that’s what you want…” he nods, “I’ll drive you there. Do you want to eat before you go?”

You glance up at him, “It’s fine, I’ll take the bus”

He shakes his head, “It’s getting late, I’d prefer if you let me take you. You don’t even need to talk to me on the way… you can choose what we listen to as well” he adds.

The both of you just stand there for a moment, a fraction of the weight on your shoulders lifted.

“Hey” he murmurs, “Come here”

You step towards him, an arms distance still between the both of you.

The faintest smile pulls onto his lips, “Closer”

“What if I don’t want to?” you say, fingers tugging at the hem of your shirt.

“Then you don’t have to” he shrugs, “You know you’re in charge of your own comfort. Just wanted a hug before you left, I’ve missed you”

You swallow, fingers itching to hold onto him. You take another step forward, arms slipping beneath his own. You press your face into his chest, bottom lip quivering as your forehead presses over his heart.

“You know I love you right?” he whispers, arms squeezing you that little bit tighter.

You shrug, eyes closing when he rests his cheek against the top of your head.

“More than you’ll ever know” he hums, “I’ll make you something to eat while you pack a bag, okay?”

And with that you’re alone, phantom kiss he left you with, lingering on your heated cheek.

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catboymoonknight · 10 months ago

Text

Comfort

Keegan Russ x Reader

No Y/N used

Words: 1,000+

Notes: >:3

You look up from your book when you hear the front door close. You look over, seeing Keegan leaning back against the closed door.

"Hey, handsome." You say, sitting up and setting down your book, marking your place.

He looks over at you, his eyes holding a tired expression as his mask stays static on his face. "Hey, love," he mumbles softly. He begins to make his way over to the master bedroom.

You get up from the couch, quietly walking behind him. He opens the door, tossing the rest of his bags onto the bed. His feet drag against the floor as he walks towards the edge of the bed, starting to unpack his bags.

You walk up behind him, hands gently rubbing up his back and resting on his shoulders. "Why don't you go clean up in the bathroom? I can unpack your stuff."

His shoulders sag softly as he hears your voice reach his ears. He nods wordlessly, his feet dragging as he walks to the bathroom. You're heart clenches as you can tell how clearly tired he seems.

You quickly unpack his bag, not wanting him to stress about it anymore. Throwing his dirty clothes in the hamper, you pull the rest of his clothes and tuck them away in the drawers and closet.

Slowly walking over to the bathroom, you gently knock on the bathroom door. "Baby?" You ask soflty, waiting for a response from the other side. Not hearing one, you slowly open the door, seeing Keegen sitting on the toliet lid, his eyes closed. He slowly opens his eyes, looking over at you, the mask still covering his face.

"Hard day?" You softly ask, walking over to him. He watches you, nodding softly as you walk closer to him. You stand in front of him, debating whether or not to reach out to him.

After a few minutes of silence, you slowly reach out to him. He sits silently, watching your hand come closer to his face. His eyes close as your hand cups his cheek through the mask, his furrowed eyebrows relaxing a bit.

Your other hand cups the other side of his face, holding him for a bit. You begin to slowly trail your hands down, eventually meeting the end of his mask. Your fingers slide under it, getting ready to pull it up before his hands suddenly grip your wrists. You tense, blinking a few times before making eye contact with him.

Reading the confusion on your face, he sighs, pulling your hands away from his mask.

"Not right now, baby... Give me a bit.." He says, tiredness seeping into his tone.

Nodding quietly, you gently pull him into you, your hands softly holding his head against your stomach. His arms slowly wrap loosely around your thighs, his thumbs rubbing over the back of them.

The two of you stay in that same position for a while, only the sounds of your breathing and fingers rubbing over fabric. Keegan suddenly feels his eyes stinging with tears as your hands gently rub at the back of his head and neck.

He buries his head on your stomach, his shoulders shaking softly. Your heart sinks as you feel his tears wetting your shirt. To comfort him, you rub your hands over his shoulders, gently kneeding his muscles as he continues to sob gently. Tears spring into your own eyes as Keegan continues to cry.

He sniffles softly, turning his head so his cheek is pressed against your stomach. "I love you, baby."

You nod softly, a hand rubbing his cheek through his mask. "I love you too, baby.."

His hands hold the back of your thighs tightly, almost as if you'll disappear if he lets go. You reach up towards his eyes, gently wiping away his tears. His eye makeup smudges, some coming off on your finger.

The two of you spend a while in that position, Keegan holding you close, his head pressed against your stomach. You stand there, hands gently rubbing his shoulders and up to his neck before he slowly pulls away. He looks up at you, the tears having smudged and ruined his eye makeup a bit. He stays quiet, slowly grabbing your hands in his. Slowly, he moves both of your hands to the bottom of his mask.

Understanding his silent plea, you slowly pull it off. He closes his eyes again, savoring the feeling of your fingers brushing against his skin. You pull it off completely, dropping it down to the side. Your hands cup his bare face, which causes his shoulders to sag in relaxation.

"There's my handsome man.." You softly whisper, stroking his cheekbones. A soft smile comes up on his lips, his eyes still closed. He hums before turning his head to kiss your palm.

"Keegan.." You say softly, still holding his face in your hands.

He doesn't say anything, only looking up at you with tears in his eyes. You crouch down, your thumbs wiping away his tears. "You need to wake up, Keegan."

He sniffles softly, his eyebrows furrowing deeply. He keeps his gaze on you, his eyes searching yours. "W-What.."

You smile at him, the edges of the smile shaking gently. "You need to wake up."

"Baby, what the hell are you talking about?" He says, grabbing your hands with his, keeping them against his face.

"Keegan. Wake up." You say in a stern voice.

He jolts up in bed, his lungs screaming as he takes a sudden deep breath of the cold air around the barracks. He pants heavily, glancing around to take in his surroundings. A cold sweat covers his body, the darkness flooding his vision. The only light is the small amount of moonlight that floods through the window.

His breathing slows down eventually as he sits up in his bed. He reaches up and runs his hands over his face and head, trying to process the dream. The palms of his hands press into his eyes, his body yearning for your touch.

He slowly lays back down, reaching under his pillow before his head hits it. He pulls out a small picture. It's one of you he had taken while you weren't paying attention. He can't help but stare at the picture, tears springing into his eyes.

Letting out a deep sigh, he tucks the photo back under his pillow, pulling his blankets back up to his shoulders. "Soon, baby...," he says to himself as he closes his eyes again, trying to will himself to sleep.

#cod keegan #keegan russ x reader #keegan russ #keegan p russ #keegan x reader #keegan p russ x reader #ghost cod #cod ghosts #call of duty #call of duty ghosts #cod fic #cod fanfic

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brittscafe · 1 year ago

Text

Finding Comfort in Them

Synopsis: When you're upset you find comfort in your boy :)

I'm pretty sure most of these can be read as a gender natural reader, but some of them might be female reader...🫶🏻

Gojo Saturo: He was out on a mission, leaving you to go to bed all by yourself. You didn't have a problem with it until you woke up from a nightmare.

Your heart pounds against your chest as you spring up in your bed, sweat gleaming over your face. You pant heavily as the fear consumes every bit of you.

You're trapped, frozen in time. Tears sting at the corner of your eyes, daring to slip out. You inhale shakily and force yourself out of the bed.

Your feet hit the cold floor and a shiver runs up your spine. You open the door and down the hallway a light can been seen. You furrow your eyebrows and head down the hallway.

Gojo's tall figure stands in the kitchen.

"Gojo!" you gasp out, your body filling with relief. You quite literally throw yourself into his arms. Gojo lets out a breath of shock as your body collides with his.

Gojo wraps an arm around your waist and the other arm holds you by the back of your thighs. Your legs wrap around his torso, chin resting on his shoulder.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asks with a soft voice that melts your heart. His hands rub up and down your back, engulfing you in a state of mellowness.

"Just a nightmare," you whisper into his ear. Arms so desperately wrapping around his body and squeezing him. Gojo noses the side of your head, nose disappearing in your hair.

"It's over and I'm here now. I'm here," his words lull out and you nod your head. Gojo's large hands rub your back, putting you back into a peaceful sleep.

Geto Suguru: Geto will fight away all your fears. He'll do anything for you. So, when you walk inside your shared bedroom with tears streaming down your face, his heart shatters.

Geto's blood runs cold as your eyes meet his. Your eyes are bloodshot from all the crying you've been done. He's sitting on the edge of the bed, fists clenched.

"What's wrong, y/n? Please, tell me," he begs of you. You crawl onto the bed and rest your head in his lap. Your knees curl up to your chest and your breath hitches in your throat.

"J-just a bad day," you stutter out, barely able to speak without breaking into a sob. Geto frowns widely and his fingers comb through your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

"Do you want me to hold you?" he asks gently, eyes softening. You glance up into his eyes and bob your head.

"Yes, please."

Geto scoops you up into his arms, setting you in his lap. His fingers wipe away your wet tears and he smiles warmly. Arms wrapping around your body as he falls back onto the bed.

Your head rests on his bicep as the rest of your body presses against his side. Geto's eyes never leave your face, always checking to see if you're okay.

His fingers knead into the flesh of your waist and his free hand cups your jaw, pulling your face to his. Your eyes flutter close as Geto's warm lips wrap around yours.

The solace of Geto is greater than anything that could ever upset you.

Megumi Fushiguro: Megumi's dark blue eyes rake up and down, examining you. Your body is trembling and your eyes are wide, full of fear.

It seems like your feet are glued to the ground and your heart is skipping beats. You had just lost someone very important to you.

"Hey..." Megumi calls out, trying to get you to snap out of whatever trance you're stuck in.

Megumi marches up to you when he doesn't get a response. He carefully reaches out and his hand grabs onto your jaw. You slowly shift your wavering eyes up and gulp.

You step forward, closing the distance between the two of you and you wrap your arms around his lower torso. Megumi lets out a tiny gasp and one of his arms snakes around your upper back.

"Please...don't let go," you beg Megumi and he chuckles, shaking his head.

"You're not getting rid of me," he assures you, bringing up his hand and cupping the back of your head. His fingers shuffle through your hair and you let out a deep breath.

You hide your face in his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. You bask in his cozy comfort.

Yuji Itadori: Tears stain the pillow you're currently hugging for dear life. The door clicks open and your stomach twists into uneasy knots. You glance over at Yuji as he enters the room and his eyes widen.

"Whoa! Y/N, are you okay?" Yuji asks, concern laced in his eyes soft. He rushes over to your side and climbs on the bed, sitting in front of you.

You sniffle and quickly wipe at your wet face. "Yeah," you voice comes out as wobbly. The concern never leaves Yuji's eyes and he inches closer to you.

He grabs onto the pillow and slides it out from your arms. You don't have time to react as Yuji tackles you down on the bed, hovering above you.

You gulp as his warm breath fans your face and your face starts to heat up. You squeeze your eyes shut as Yuji leans closer to your face.

His lips press against your cheek and your eyelids slowly flutter open

"Please don't be upset, y/n. I hate seeing you cry," Yuji pleads with you, climbing off of you and sinking down onto the bed beside you.

You gaze over at him and the corners of your lips tug into a tiny grin.

Yuji wraps his arms around your body and pulls you into his chest. Your legs wrap tangle with his, pleasant waves taking over your feelings.

"Ok. I'll try," you assure Yuji, bringing your hands up to his face, thumbs brushing his skin.

Toji Fushiguro: You enter the living room of your shared apartment. Toji is sitting down on the couch, legs spread wide. Toji turns his head as you walk into the living room, a frown spread across your face.

Toji raises an eyebrow and clears his throat. "Come here," he beckons you with his finger. He immediately knew something was off with you.

You slowly walk over to him and straddle his lap. Your arms snake around his broad shoulders and you bury your head into the crook of his neck.

His arms wrap around your waist, pressing your body against his warm one.

Neither one of you needs to talk, you just need to bask in each other's company.

His warmth cradles you as you let out quiet breaths, letting everything else fade away.

Nanami Kento: The front door clicks open and Nanami perks his head up from the newspaper in his hands, eyes glancing up at you. Your eyes don't meet his as you set your stuff down on the counter.

Nanami cocks an eyebrow, setting his newspaper back and pushing his chair back, standing up. Your stomach is twisted into harsh knots, probbing and poking at your skin.

Throat burning with a deep desire to let out a good cry, but you won't...not in front of Nanami. You're afraid to look at him because you might break.

"Y/N," his voice chimes out and your eyes slowly waver up, meeting his. Unsteady breaths leave your throat as it tightens, even more.

Nanami reaches up and places his hands on your cheek. The way his thumbs brush your skin makes a shaky breath choke out from inside of you.

"I-I'm sorry," you mumble out, voice breaking as a single tear slides down your cheek.

"It's okay. You don't have to tell me," Nanami explains, a slight smile on his face. He leans his head down and presses his soft, warm lips against your forehead.

The feeling of his lips tenderly kissing you makes comfort burst through your veins. You reach your hands up and wrap your fingers around Nanami's wrist.

He brushes his fingers through your hair carefully, gaze locked onto yours. Soon your tears stop spilling out from your eyes as Nanami comforts you.

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pizzaqueen · 2 years ago

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For day five of @steddie-week for the prompt ‘established relationship’ / 715 words of Eddie goofing off at bedtime / rated G or T

After I wrote this, I thought it could be fun as part of a 5+1 established relationship kind of thing where either one or both of them are annoying/bratty/goofy but ran out of time, so here’s this one for now! Maybe one day I’ll do some more and compile them

“Okay, time for bed.” Steve stands, stretching his arms above his head, spine popping.

Eddie mourns his warmth, resenting the cold space beside him on the couch. But, still he says, “Ugh, no.”

“You can stay up if you want.”

“Noooo.” Eddie slumps over, face-first into the couch cushions. They’re still warm from Steve, but it’s a poor substitute. “I’m too tired to go to bed.”

There’s a great sigh from above Eddie and Steve says, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“I don’t want to move.”

“Fine, see you in the morning then.”

“You’re not going to just leave me! I thought you were a gentleman.” Eddie turns his head to look up at Steve. He’s got his hands on his hips, his shirt is riding up revealing a very appealing strip of stomach, and his hair is all mussed. “Carry me,” Eddie adds.

“Carry yourself.”

Eddie makes an unhappy noise and rolls off the couch, flopping onto the floor and holding out one hand.

“Oh my god,” Steve says, “you’re going to hurt yourself if you keep doing that.” He grabs Eddie’s hand, tugging, but Eddie doesn’t stand. “Do you want me to carry you or drag you?”

“Mm.”

“Jesus Christ.” Steve huffs and tugs again, dragging Eddie a few inches. “You’re gonna get rug burn.” He stoops down, hooking his arms under Eddie’s—“That tickles” “Shut up”—and then he groans and says, “Nope, I’m too old for this,” dropping his grip on Eddie and turning away.

But Eddie says, “Okay, okay, I’ll get up,” and Steve turns back. He raises a brow at Eddie’s outstretched hand, but he takes it, shaking his head with a small smile when Eddie lets himself be pulled to his feet.

Eddie immediately leans forward, draping himself over Steve, almost dead weight.

“Dude,” Steve says, even as he wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist, breathing in deeply. “I had an easier time getting the neighbors’ kids to bed when we looked after them that time.”

“You promised to tuck them in and tell them a bedtime story.”

“Is that what I need to do with you?”

“Well,” Eddie says, “it wouldn’t hurt,” gently biting Steve’s jaw.

“Okay, if you’re a good boy and stop messing around, I’ll tuck you in and tell you a bedtime story.” Steve bumps their noses together. “Deal?”

“Throw in a piggyback?”

“Fine.” Steve turns in Eddie’s arms, grunting as he hoists Eddie up onto his back. “We’d get to bed a lot quicker if you walked.”

“This is more fun.”

“Speak for yourself,” Steve says, but there’s fond amusement beneath his griping. When they get to the bedroom, Steve turns and deposits Eddie on the bed, groaning when Eddie pulls him down with him. He rolls off of Eddie and lies beside him. “Okay,” he says, “I’m going to brush my teeth.”

“Not yet.” Eddie hooks his leg over Steve’s, stopping him from getting up.

“Come on.”

“Kiss me first,” Eddie says, moving over Steve and pressing kisses all over his face.

Steve squirms, but he’s smiling, and he kisses Eddie back, which only encourages Eddie, until Steve pushes a hand in Eddie’s face and says, “Oh, you definitely need to brush your teeth.”

“Hey, my breath is like a spring breeze!”

“Yeah, downwind from a dump.” Steve grins, tongue between his teeth.

Eddie frowns, pulling back to check his breath. “Smells fine to me.” He pokes Steve in the side. “And your breath doesn’t exactly smell like a rose garden right now.”

“Whatever. I’m just saying, oral hygiene is important, okay?”

“That might be the dorkiest thing you’ve ever said. Like, it’s so dorky I can’t even make any of the obvious jokes.”

“I literally don’t care.” Steve wriggles out from under Eddie. “And brush your teeth, or don’t, but when they fall out, don’t come crying to me.” He starts to move away but Eddie grabs him again. “What now?”

“I promise I’ll brush my teeth if you cuddle with me first.”

“We can cuddle after.”

“C’mon,” Eddie says, “just five minutes.”

Steve’s lips twitch. “Just five minutes,” he says, lying down again, “but you’ve forfeited the bedtime story.”

“You know what,” Eddie says, pulling Steve close, and wrapping his arm around his waist, “I think I can live without it.”

#steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddieweek2023 #Eddie flosses and brushes at least twice a day and Steve (obviously) knows it btw #probably didn't need to say that but just in case haha #(...i'm very tired i don't know what i'm saying rn)#pizzaqueenfic

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sitkowski · 3 months ago

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but only for you ( jolly karlsson x nick folio )

pairing: jolly karlsson x nick folio cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ the boys are fighting, mentions of flirting with other people, a little bit of angst, makeup sex. word count: 1.6k author's notes: more riptide boys. they're my babies and i adore them. the picture mentioned in the fic is this one! this is set between sunshine riptide and heaven's gate, btw! title comes from "last of the real ones" by fall out boy, divider by @sweetmelodygraphics 🩷

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups || riptide verse masterpost

The slam of the front door is inexplicably loud when Jolly storms out, and Nick jumps at the sound. He’s left standing in the middle of their living room, staring at the space where he’d just been standing. He can’t blink back the swell of frustrated tears, meant more for himself than for Jolly, who left without a word after Nick couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut.

“You could have acted like we were in a relationship tonight, not just when I let you fuck me.” Why had he said something so stupid and so untrue? Jolly had looked rightfully hurt the second those words came out of Nick’s mouth, eyes going wide and glassy before he turned and left.

It had started at a party. Jolly hadn’t really wanted to go, but Nick had insisted. Because Matt’s new girlfriend was throwing it, and he thought they should be there. So they go, and then Nick does the stupid thing and abandons him to talk to a bunch of different people. By the time he actually finds Jolly again, he’s talking with Zephyr’s best friend. Did Nick get jealous? Of course he did. Did he think anything was going to come from it, the way he saw his boyfriend smiling at her? He didn’t, not even when she wrote her phone number on Jolly’s hand like they were in high school or something. Because he knows Jolly.

But when Nick came over to them, he just introduced him as Folio, not his boyfriend, just his last name. For some reason, it got under Nick’s skin even though that was what he normally went by. Everyone called him that. Jolly didn’t, not as much as he used to. Hearing him say it and having to be polite and smile and shake this girl’s hand, it bugged him. So much that he went and sulked, ignoring Jolly for the rest of the night until it was time for them to leave. And then he ignored him on the drive home, insisting nothing was bothering him, even when it was.

Jolly was Jolly, he pushed until Nick gave in and let it all out. The girl’s number on his hand, him showing her something in his wallet, the two of them flirting with each other all night. Him introducing Nick as Folio. It bugged him. He was jealous. And once he started talking, he couldn’t stop and soon they were yelling at each other. Jolly wasn’t responsible for Nick’s insecurities, he didn’t even want to go to the party but Nick made him. Nick fired back with the comment that left him in the position he’s in now, trying to figure out why he couldn’t just talk to him about it when it was bothering him, instead of letting it bottle up on the drive home.

He sees Jolly’s wallet laying on the counter where he tossed it when they came in, and his curiosity gets the best of him. He wants to see what he’d been showing the girl at the party. When he opens it, a folded picture falls out. Nick opens it up and stares back at a picture of himself from at least three or four years earlier. Before the two of them even got together. The edges of the picture are a little faded, from Jolly handling it. He’s got a picture of Nick in his wallet, and all Nick wants to do is cry.

Tucking the picture back into the wallet gently, he takes it with him to go outside. Jolly is sitting on the front step, rubbing his fingers back and forth over his hand. The phone number that had been there is all but faded now. Nick holds out the wallet to him, and Jolly looks up.

“It was a joke, you know?” he says as he takes his wallet. “When I showed her the picture of you in here, she teased me for being old school and she wrote her number on me. Actually, she wrote a fake number, from some song from the eighties. Which I could have told you instead of saying all that shit in there.”

Nick sits down beside him. Reaching over he takes Jolly’s hand, turning it over and seeing the faded three, zero and nine. “I’m sorry I dragged you to the party, this probably wouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have acted like I did.”

“You thought I was gonna leave you for that girl? She’s Z’s friend, but…you know I love you more than anything, don’t you Nicky?”

Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, Nick nods rapidly. “I do. And I love you too. So much.”

“I introduced you to her as Folio because she’d already met Ruff and wanted to know what to call you when she met you, she didn’t want to be confused.”

“I didn’t mean what I said, Jolly. You don’t just treat me like your boyfriend when you want to, you know? We were friends first, for a long time—”

Jolly laces their fingers together. “You looked in my wallet, didn’t you, pretty?”

“Maybe I was expecting something else, but not that.”

“You and I, we were…oundviklig…inevitable,” he squeezes Nick’s fingers. “If I ever treat you as anything less than what you are to me, you need to tell me, okay? Because yeah we were friends first, but you’re mine now. And that’s something else entirely.”

Nick doesn’t even think about it, he moves over and crawls into Jolly’s lap right there on the front steps. He wraps himself around him, presses his forehead against his. If he got any closer to him out here, they’d probably get the cops called on them if their neighbors were nosy enough. Jolly lets out an amused sound, grasping Nick’s waist and nuzzling his nose against his cheek.

“You can’t do that,” Nick says, shaking his head. “You can’t bring out the Swedish and say shit like that to me. It’s not fair.”

Jolly shrugs his shoulders. “Never said I was gonna be fair. Do you wanna hear more because I—”

“Take me inside, right now.”

He starts to get up, but Jolly doesn’t give him the chance. He tightens his arms around Nick and stands, and Nick lets out a startled sound, grabbing onto him tighter. Somehow, they manage to get into the house without running into anything or without Jolly dropping him. They’re both laughing, and they make it to the bedroom doorway before Jolly’s got to put him back on his feet. Fisting a hand in the front of Jolly’s shirt, he pulls him backward. Past their bed and towards the bathroom.

Jolly steps around him, opening the stall door and turning on the water. Nick waits, letting him lead. When he turns back towards Nick, he reaches out to unbutton his shirt, pushing it off of Nick's shoulders and dragging kisses along the bare skin beneath as Nick takes it off the rest of the way and tosses it aside. His hands slide down to undo Nick's jeans. Jolly's fingers tease beneath his waistband, and Nick reaches up to push his hair behind his ears, pulling his mouth down to kiss him softly.

They don’t rush. Once Jolly is done stripping Nick out of his clothes, he takes off his own clothes and leads him into the stall beneath the spray. The water’s just this side of too hot, but Nick lets it sink into his skin. He’s surprised by how relaxed he suddenly feels, all of the tension from the night leaving him in a rush. He wraps his arms around Jolly, pressing soft kisses to the middle of his chest.

“Here, let me,” he says, reaching past him for the shampoo.

Jolly indulges him, letting Nick wash his hair for him. He also returns the favor, and Nick practically melts beneath his touch as he scrubs at his scalp and then turns him so that he can rinse the shampoo away. They take turns moving around beneath the water to wash up before they finally stumble out of the stall, drying off haphazardly as they make their way into the bedroom.

Nick tumbles them to the bed, and immediately Jolly grabs onto his hips and rolls them, pinning him between his body and the mattress. He presses his chest into Nick’s back, mouthing at the water droplets still lingering on his shoulder while Nick manages to get a hand into the nightstand for the lube. His moans are muffled into the sheets as Jolly preps him so slowly it might be considered torture. He’s murmuring praise in Nick’s ear, in English and in Swedish, and Nick is seconds away from begging him when Jolly finally sinks into him.

One of Jolly’s hands tangles with his, the other pinning Nick down to the bed by the nape of his neck as if Nick’s going anywhere. As if there’s anywhere else he’d rather be. He pushes, leaving Nick breathless with the steady, hard rhythm he sets. It’s almost instinct to struggle in Jolly’s grasp, not to get away but to get him closer, to get a hand down between himself and the bed to wrap his fingers around himself, trying to keep up with Jolly’s thrusts.

“Jag är din för alltid,” he whispers in Nick’s ear. “Och du är min för alltid.”

Nick’s been around him enough to know some words. He picks up on mine and forever, and he sobs out an agreement, turning head to sink his teeth into his own arm as he comes. He clenches down around Jolly, ensuring that he’s not that far behind him. It’s messy and rushed and absolutely perfect.

“We just showered,” Jolly mumbles into the damp skin of Nick’s shoulder after, not even bothering to keep his weight off of him. “First one who can move has to get a towel.”

Nick squirms around until he can roll over, wrapping himself around Jolly and kissing him soft and slow. “Later. Stay here with me for now.”

“Oh, pretty,” Jolly pets his hair back off his forehead. “I’ll stay here forever.”

swedish translations (thanks google) oundviklig = inevitable jag är din för alltid = i'm yours forever och du är min för alltid = and you are mine forever

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#nick folio x jolly karlsson #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #the riptide verse #jolly karlsson fic #nick folio fic #.ficbysitkowski

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