#she has been a bit problematic herself on that front but there’s no need for the fans to be raging

[theamazingannie]

I know everyone looks down on You Need to Calm Down but I feel like everyone needs to listen to that “and I see you over there on the internet, comparing all the girls who are killing it” line again because I don’t think she was just talking about the press. She was talking about y’all in the comments of every single Taylor/SZA/Ari/etc post attacking the subject and bringing in people irrelevant to the story just to diss them for absolutely no reason. I’m so sick of it. Y’all should be ashamed of yourselves

[okkotsui]

haitani rindou ⇄ cheater, cheater.

synopsis : you discovered something about ran that made you love your boyfriend even more. the difference between them can compare to the sun and moon, heaven and hell.

tags / warnings : gender–neutral!reader, cheater!ran, angst, fluff, mention of sexual intercourse (not detailed).

it was just another not-so-calming day— for you that is. you were taking notice of another issue about your boyfriend’s brother and his girlfriend (maybe ex-girlfriend now?), and it was still the same matter that made your head ache from time to time.

of course, that is how your boyfriend’s brother is; a cheater.

you’ve been seeing him bringing different girls from time to time whilst his girlfriend saw each piece of evidence. believe it or not, she even caught them in their own home and somehow, the way they make up is having sex.

eventually heard that ran is ironically the possessive but cheater one on both of them.

you trust rindou enough that he won’t do it to your relationship which has been going on for almost five years and counting now. he assures and reassures you enough that you’re not even thinking about it twice when he treats you right.

another headache is also ran’s girlfriend. she already knows that she is being cheated on and all, but she just stayed and insisted, her reason? because ran is rich enough to fill her wants and needs with his money.

well, it was somehow understandable but they need some help— you won’t do it, it’s problematic when you made the two of them talk to one another. just another toxic relationship.

and when it comes to your relationship with rindou, it is perfectly healthy. he puts more effort than his brother who is the total opposite of each other and you are thankful for that.

currently, his girlfriend is right beside you, bawling her eyes out. she saw ran again with another girl that he escorted out of his car to go somewhere.

“i just wish we could have the same relationship as yours.” she drew her breath, calming herself down as well as fanning her face with her hand.

“aella, girl, how many times do i have to tell you— leave him. i’m willing to help you” you sighed, sitting more comfortably on your couch as she sighed.

“and even though you’re with a rich cheater, it will just ruin your mental health and your whole being just for someone buying you expensive gifts.” you added, though, she is willing to listen.

“but how can i live when i leave him?” that made you sigh, stressed out on her relationship. the irony of stressing over other people’s relationships than yours

“you can an—”

“aella, babe? what are you doing here?” and speaking of the devil himself.

ran furrowed his eyebrows, looking at the two of you. his eyes were confused and a bit betrayed when he saw you though it is not your fault for that.

“this is rindou’s apartment, you must be mistaken, come on.” he entered the apartment you shared with rindou, taking his ‘girlfriend’ back as aella looked at your eyes as if asking for help.

what you didn't notice was that rindou arrived when the two went out of the door. he was confused as well, concerned about you.

“darling? what was that?” your lover called out, messaging your forehead, pouting at him.

“i’m so tired of comforting her every time she sees your brother cheating with another woman!” you squeezed your eyes shot, feeling a migraine from the occurrences that happened today.

“i’m sorry,” he went in front of you, kissing your forehead, tucking some of your hair strands away from your face to behind your ears.

“i’ve been telling him to stop but he just won’t listen. don’t worry, he will get his taste of medicine or karma later on, okay? don’t stress about it anymore.” he sat beside you, grabbing your waist gently to place you against his chest.

“i know, i’m sorry. i’m really thankful that you’re different from him despite being siblings... i love you so much, rindou.” you lay in his chest, hearing his heartbeat.

you shouldn’t compare both of them, at all! it’s an erroneous act for your boyfriend’s brother but you still apologized.

“i’m—”

“no, it’s okay, i understand that you’re stressed, how about we go to bed, hm?” you nodded at his offer, but he just went straight up carrying with ease.

“i don’t know what i did to have you...” you whispered whilst he placed you down on the bed you two shared as he changed his clothes back.

“many things, baby,” he halted, laying down beside you as you wrapped your arms around him.

rindou always makes you feel at home, no doubt to protect you as well.

at the end of the day, the situation between ran and his girlfriend is still the same but that does not matter, you just fell in love with your boyfriend all over again because of many realizations.

it is one of his priorities after all, making you feel safe and royalty in your life. he is willing to hear you out in any way.

[anonymooseforever007]

Chocolate Pie

(Michael Gray x Reader)

Summary: After running out of Ada’s house, Y/N realises she forgot her bag at Ada's house after her escape. But will Ada even be there to hand it over or will someone else open the door? In which Polly’s plan come to play.

A/N: Hi y'all! So there's still no TWs I think. This is the shorter second part because I couldn't figure out how connect them properly. More Michael in this, but again he's a bit OC probably. This is written as if he hadn't been taken by his own ambition and is still more of the farm boy he was in S2 if that makes sense! I hope y'all enjoy❤️

WC- 2.1k

Part 1

Main Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 47 minutes.... 

It had taken 47 minutes for Y/N to get back to Ada's house despite the walk usually only taking 5 max. Really, it had taken her about 4 minutes, half a block, and a quick corner turn before remembering her forgotten items. The remaining time was spend debating if it was really worth it. Maybe her brother actually replaced the spare key under the plant? Probably not. Ada and Polly seems really busy with the cookies, Y/N shouldn't bother them any more? Damn, it didn't take two people to take cookies out of the oven. Did it? Back and forth, back and forth, Y/N's brain went. Was it better to give up today or should she suck it up and get over her embarrassment today? Who's to say? 

In the end Y/N remembered that there was still chocolate pie from last week left in the fridge. She decided that chocolate pie was a better way to fix her mortification than any meal she could get from what ever hotel she'd be staying at otherwise. A chocolate pie... all for herself. 

After she was set on getting her pie it took about three minutes to make it back to Ada's house and now Y/N was standing once again at the front steps. She did notice that, luckily, Mel's car was still gone so maybe she wouldn't have to face him again. At least so soon. Maybe one day. But after what occurred not even an hour ago "maybe one day" was far too soon......

However, the universe seemed to decide that too soon was not soon enough. And Y/N would quickly learn that when the door was opened.

"Really? It's only been like 15 minutes Ada. Just because Karl needed stitches last time I wa... You."

Michael Gray stood in Ada's door staring at the women he had been thinking of for the past couple hours. And she stared back highly debating if she should shut the door and run again.... But she still really wanted that pie.

"Keys."

"What?"

"Sorry. Hi, I forgot my bag here and it has my keys to get into my house. You wouldn't mind if I grabbed it and got out would you?" Y/N asked, slightly peering over his shoulder to look for the bag she swore she left on the couch. 

"Yeah sure, that's fine." Micheal agreed, opening the door wider and stepping out of the way. As Y/N passed him she noticed he wasn't wearing his suit jacket any more or his vest, opting for only his under shirt and trousers. He wasn't wearing any shoes either and Y/N could hear the faint sound of a tub running upstairs. If he hadn't told her otherwise earlier Y/N would have though he was getting ready for bed. 

Making their way to the couch Y/N reached down to grab her bag, ready to leave again. But for some reason her beloved pack wasn't there. Nor was it on the floor by the couch or near any of the other chairs in the living room. Which was odd because Y/N always like to put her bag in the same place every time she came over so she wouldn't forget where it was. But it wasn't there. 

"On second thought maybe it's in the kitchen I'll look there." Nope, the dark green bag wasn't in the kitchen or in the hallway or even in the bathroom that Y/N hadn't stepped foot in. It was as if it was never even at the house in the first place. Which was even more problematic because Y/N knew she had it when getting ice cream and on the way back since Karl kept playing with the straps. So where did the bag go? She'd have to ask Michael for help. Which mean she'd have to face him again.

"Hey Mel? I don't want to bother you but you haven't seen a green bag with brown straps around here have you? I can't seem to find it and I swear I had it when I came in." Y/N had decided to use the name Mel in reference to the Gray man. It made it easier to pretend what happened earlier didn't happen. Bedsides she liked the name Mel and he didn't seem to mind her using it either. 

"No I haven't seen a bag like that, but if you want I can help look." Michael had run up stairs to turn off the faucet upstairs before coming back down and placing himself in the living room. Normally, if someone he's didn't know well was in his cousin's house he'd be suspicious of them looking around and follow them. But Y/N seemed close enough to Ada it didn't seem like a problem. Besides if he followed her into the next room she might think he was a creep he supposed. After all, they had only met a few hours ago and what woman wanted a unfamiliar man filling their every step. 

Besides if he was in a different room than her, he wouldn't have to make conversation again. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but Michael was slightly embarrassed about how he opened the door. He thought it was Ada and if he'd know it was her friend he'd have made sure to say something else. Something he thought was not as dumb as what he actually opened with. Something that didn't imply he'd hurt the little boy Ada's friend seemed so smitten with. In reality, it have been Karl's own fault he'd decided to slide down the stairs in a laundry bin when Michael went to the bathroom for extra padding. Okay, maybe Michael had been the one to show him HOW to do it, but he did tell the boy to wait until the floor was softer. And in the end Karl only need three stitches in the back of his head and you couldn't even see the scar! Though, the only reason Michael didn't have a scar of his own from when Ada found out is because John grabbed her around the waist and picked her off the ground before she could reach the knives. But Y/N didn't know that....hopefully. Michael though she might hate him if she figured that out, and he didn't want her that. Having only been in Small Heath for a year or two he hadn't quite caught on to his cousins' ability to sweet talk their way out of trouble. 

Michael ran a hand through his hair trying to make it look neat again, as well as his hands down his front to straighten his shirt. Would it be weird if he put on his vest again? He liked the way he looked in his vest. However, before he could decide, Y/N had called from the other room and was asking for his help. Evidently, he would have to talk to her again. Hopefully this time he wouldn't say anything dumb.

"Where did you see it last?" Michael asked coming into the kitchen where Y/N was crouched down checking under the table again.

"Well, I could have sworn it was on the couch, but now I can't find it." 

"Alright I'll help look."

And look they did. They searched the kitchen and the hallway and the living room again. Y/N checked the hall closet while Michael check the bathroom. Michael had even run upstairs and spent a few minutes in the dark rummaging around a sleeping Karl's room incase he'd snuck away with it. Their search was accomplished in silence with only a passing "not here" or "have you tried..." as the two moved locations. After 15 minutes it was evident the pack wasn't in the house. But where could it be?

The answer came a few minutes later when Y/N, searching the living room again picked up a pillow, noticed a note lying exactly where she usually put her stuff. Reading it, she groaned and rolled her head to the ceiling making a mental note to give Karl a whole chess pie next time he was over. Michael hearing the noise came into the room thinking Y/N had been hurt.

"Are you alright?"

"Here read this." Y/N passed the note to her companion, trying to ignore how his warm fingers brushed hers when taking the note. 

"Y/N. I noticed you left your bag, but Polly is persistent that we leave now. Since it has your house keys, Polly and I are going to drop it off at your house on our way over. If you aren't there yet we'll give it you on our way back. Love, Ada. P.S. Michael- Be more than an ass.," Michael read aloud getting more confused as the letter went on. 

If Ada and Polly planned on dropping the bag off at Y/N's place then why would the leave a note here? And since Y/N was back here, his family had obviously made it to the club without seeing her. Now Y/N would be stuck here for a few hours unless she wanted to spend the time sitting outside her own steps. Also, he didn't understand why Ada was telling him not to be an ass. Had he already offended Y/N when they met earlier? The way Ada had worded the note was also weird, but he was more concerned about her friend not liking him. He knew by now that he liked her or at least he was more interested in knowing her than the others girls he'd met recently. She was nice and pretty and good with Karl. That was truly about the extent he knew, but that was enough for Michael to realise he wanted to know more.

Brought out of his thoughts by a head thud, Michael turned and saw Y/N, forehead against the wall mumbling to herself. He thought he caught something about "killing Ada" and stupid plan" and "chess pie"? But he wasn't sure. Did he really make such a bad impression that the idea of being in the same house as him for a few hours was concussion worthy? Shit. Moving closer to the women, he stuck out his hand and hesitantly placed it in her shoulder. He began to speak to her as one would a scared child or dog. If she really was anything like his cousin, she'd be more likely to attack when frustrated. He didn't want the woman do dislike him more be believed than she already did.

"Hey Y/N. You alright? I know this isn't what you had planned tonight. You can stay here and make yourself comfortable until Ada gets back. I'm sure she had a few books you can look though. I can go upstairs if you don't want me around."

Y/N's head came up from the wall and she turned to meet his eyes. His hand didn't leave her shoulder and she didn't make an attempt to move it. Nor did he. Taking a breath and deciding to take a chance Y/N gathered her courage again.

"I'm alright," she laughed nervously trying to blow off her nerves," I just wasn't expecting all this to happen and it's fine now. And thanks for letting me stay here. I don't really want to sit on my steps in the dark for a few hours waiting. Especially if it may rain. And you can stay down here if you want. It's not a bother at all. It was nice talking earlier." The last part was slightly mumbled, but still heard by the young man who suddenly felt a weight lift from his shoulders and he smiled. A full smile this time not just half one like he'd given her earlier. So she didn't hate him. That was good. Michael was still slightly curious to why she decided to face plant anyway, but he could ask that later. 

"Alright then why don't we head to the kitchen then darling? I think Ada made some cookies earlier with my mum we can have. There's a bottle of whiskey there too. Then we can go to the living room, it'll probably be the best place to be is Karl wakes up," Michael commented, testing the waters with the endearment while also praying the Karl would absolutely not wake up until morning. Then pushing his luck farther he stuck out his arm jokingly towards Y/N.

"Shall we?" 

The woman laughed, this time it wasn't caused by nerves, 

"Stealing and Drinking? Why yes I think we shall," she replied taking his arm. 

And with that they headed towards the living room. Though they both came from different backgrounds and different routines, in the end they were both the same thing. Two young people as eager as they were nervous to know more about the other.... 

...

"Oh by the way. Mel, why didn't you go out to the club with Ada and your Mum? I thought you were going with them tonight and your car's gone?"

"Apparently I don't have the tits for it."

[reclusivebookslug]

Bella Swan is Autistic: An Analysis

(Disclaimers: I enjoy Twilight in spite of its problematic elements, not because of them or in ignorance of them. There are as many different ways to be autistic as there are autistic people. Many allistic people will relate on some level to some aspects of the autistic experience; this does not make them autistic. This is all just my opinion, based on my experience as a late-diagnosed, low-support-needs autistic woman. I am aware this is not a brand-new original idea.)

I reread Twilight (I think for the first time since getting diagnosed 4 years ago) and I found a bunch of things I relate to Bella about. Below the cut is a list of some of her autism-related character traits with quotes for textual evidence. The links lead to articles explaining how these traits relate to autism. The list is ordered chronologically based on page number of the accompanied quotes. Page numbers are based on the paperback edition with ISBN-13: 9780316015844. A backslash in a quote signifies a paragraph break. I’ll update if I read any of the other books or rewatch the movies and anything new comes up.

Bella has trouble regulating her emotional expressions: she has to put conscious effort into how she presents herself

"I'd always been a bad liar" (p. 4). "For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts. I usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency" (p. 25). "I had never been enormously tactful" (p. 31). "'My face is so easy to read -- my mother always calls me her open book'" (p. 50).

Bella is shy and a bit socially awkward: she avoids attention for fear of embarrassment

"Charlie wasn't comfortable with expressing his emotions out loud. I inherited that from him" (p. 7). "Mr. Varner... was the only one who made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself. I stammered, blushed, and tripped over my own boots on the way to my seat" (p. 17). "To my dismay, I found myself the center of attention for the rest of the week" (pp. 68-69).

Bella feels different from other people: she doesn’t know how to connect with others and feels pressure to fit in

"I didn't relate well to people my age. Maybe the truth was that I didn't relate well to people, period. Even my mother, who I was closer to than anyone else on the planet, was never in harmony with me, never on exactly the same page. Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain" (pp. 10-11). "I answered honestly, instead of pretending to be normal like everyone else" (p. 47). “'My mind doesn't work right? I'm a freak?' The words bothered me more than they should -- probably because his speculation hit home. I'd always suspected as much, and it embarrassed me to have it confirmed" (p. 181).

Bella has a unique sense of humor: other people don’t get her jokes and she doesn’t get other peoples’ jokes

"'You don't look very tan.' / 'My mother is part albino.' / He studied my face apprehensively, and I sighed. It looked like clouds and a sense of humor didn't mix. A few months of this and I'd forget how to use sarcasm" (p. 16). “Bella was being unintentionally funny” (p. 367).

Bella finds comfort in routine: the change in routine from moving was difficult for her, and she felt better once the new routine became familiar

"I fell into the pattern of the familiar task gladly" (p. 33).

Bella is academically gifted: she finds assignments easier than her peers do, she has already read the books assigned in her English course

"'Were you in an advanced placement program in Phoenix?' / 'Yes'" (p. 47).

Bella enjoys being alone: she is introverted and enjoys solitary activities

"In a lot of ways, living with Charlie was like having my own place, and I found myself reveling in the aloneness instead of being lonely" (p. 54). "I've never minded being alone" (p. 241).

Bella has motor difficulties: she is clumsy, uncoordinated, accident-prone, and bad at sports

"Possibly my crippling clumsiness was seen as endearing rather than pathetic, casting me as a damsel in distress" (p. 55). "My sense of direction was hopeless; I could get lost in much less helpful surroundings" (p. 136).

Bella has special interests: Edward and books

"... no one else was as aware of Edward as I always was. No one else watched him the way I did" (p. 69). "I was sitting in my room, researching vampires. What was wrong with me" (p. 135)? "... they didn't know how preoccupied I could get when surrounded by books; it was something that I preferred to do alone" (p. 156).

Bella is perceived as different by others: a history of social exclusion is hinted at, Edward’s mind-reading doesn’t work on her

"'It's better if we're not friends,' he explained. 'Trust me.' / My eyes narrowed. I'd heard that before” (pp. 74-75). "He enunciated every syllable, as if he were talking to someone mentally handicapped" (p. 83). "'My mom always says I was born thirty-five years old and that I get more middle-aged every year'" (p. 106). ".'.. maybe your mind doesn't work the same way the rest of theirs do. Like your thoughts are on the AM frequency and I'm only getting FM'” (p. 181). "'You're not like anyone I've ever known. ... / ... 'I have a better than average grasp of human nature. People are predictable. But you ... you never do what I expect. You always take me by surprise'" (p. 245).

Bella has sensory differences: she notices and is bothered by things others don’t and aren’t, she engages in sensory-seeking and sensory-avoiding behavior when stressed

"'People can't smell blood,' he contradicted. / 'Well, I can -- that's what makes me sick. It smells like rust ... and salt" (p. 100). "I put in my headphones, hit Play, and turned up the volume until it hurt my ears. I closed my eyes, but the light still intruded, so I added a pillow over the top of my face" (pp. 129-130). "'You're always crabbier when your eyes are black ... I expect it then' ... 'I have a theory about that'" (p. 171). “For three and a half hours I stared at the wall, curled in a ball, rocking” (p. 425).

[idv-ask-the-showman]

Unexpected Guest - Part 3 The Final Part

TW: there would be mention of harm/injurise/ fire burns and more, you have been warned!

Note from The Mun// The writing may seem somewhat fast paced and may not be that good but tbh I struggle with writer block so bad but I still wanna write the event so hope ya guys forgive me! I also wanna say that I know I made some of the characters a bit OOC and there could had many way the story could go but again, writing block and also I needed to make the plot happen one way or another despite everything.

The fight was mostly one sided between Rue and Hugo with Rue being the one on top unsurprisingly giving her background as a skilled fighter. Even Hugo knows that trying to win against that woman would only waste his time when he could have already finished what he came here for long ago.

He concluded that the best action to take now was to distract her and make an escape opinion for himself to take… but DAME! This woman is locked in and would not take her eyes off him like a hawk!

Thankfully… he has a plan~

“As much as I enjoy our little dance, I am afraid I must excuse myself~”

Rue grabbed to her katana tightly, ready for any attacks the hunter about to use on her.

Yet, he didn’t even make an attempt to attack her. If anything, he just smirked before setting his body aflame. It's worth noting that they were in a wooden building on the map, and with Hugo’s control over the fire, he quickly set the wooden floor on fire, causing the fire to spread much faster than normal.

A lot of thick smoke and fire covered Rue’s vision, only for a minute though. With a strong swing of her sword, she send a strong wind slash that cleared the smock and some of the fire in front of her and can finally see clearly again… yet he is no where to be seen.

“Dame it….” Rue mumbled to herself before getting moving to try and find him while informing the other through the communication device “Beware, the hunter has changed target.”

{Meanwhile with Angel and Flynn}

“Got it.”

Angel sigh and looked at Flynn, he wanted to ask him why that Hunter is so obsessed to get him yet he knows this is not the right time to ask nor dose he believe Flynn would even tell him anyway… besides he feel like he already knows the reason for it.

“We better be careful, he for sure would be looking for you.”

Flynn was silent for a bit and a look of guilt was on his face.

“I am sorry you guys have to get involved with all of this I-”

“No need for apologies Flynn, I already told you that, There was no way you could have known.”

Flynn smiled a bit to that, feeling a little better.

“Now come, we need to keep at it a little bit longer and we would be done with this chaotic match and Miss Nightingale for sure gonna deal with that problematic hunter after!”

yeah… YEAH! Angel is right, Flynn is worrying about this way more than he should, it wouldn’t take long before the final machine is done and they can end this whole thing!

Alas they should stop talking for now because it seem the hunter is getting near them. Angle immediately pulled Flynn near him and used his Camouflage trait by using a fabric that makes them invisible in front of the hunter for a short while.

When the hunter finally arrived to where the two were and started looking around. The two made sure to crouch down, walking as slow and quiet as possible, It was hard to giving how dangerously close he is to them now.

Hugo in the other hand can tell someone is here, he just know it! But no matter how he looked around he couldn’t find them, it seem he have to look somewhere else but where?

The whole thing flustered him, how is it so hard to get his hand on that child?! And why in hell do those bastards try to protect him??? If only they knew what he did… Keep thinking about it making the flames on him grow stronger and wilder.

“UGHHHHHHH THIS IS BULLSHIT!!!”

With his sudden outburst, the flame that was on him exploded in all different directions including the direction that Angel and Flynn were at. Leading to the fabric that Angel is using to catch aflame and forcing him to immediately throw it away before it harms them… unfortunately, that means Hugo can see them now.

He was shocked but a pleasant one because soon he burst out laughing at how the situation seemed to now work in his favor!

“COME HERE!”

The hunter dashes at them so fast that Flynn doesn't have a chance to react. Thankfully, Angel immediately grabs Flynn and dodges the hunter, not wasting a second to look back. Angel stands up, still holding onto Flynn's hand, and runs away.

Needless to say, now the two find themselves kitting the hunter, they need to just kite him a bit longer just a little bit more until the machine is primed and they can get out!… but much easier said then done because despite how good they kite, The hunter managed to get Angel down and it didn’t take him long before he managed to catch Flynn!

“GAH!”

“FLYNN!!”

He grabbed him harshly by the neck and lift him up high from the ground. Flynn was struggling to break free from Hugo’s tied grip let along breath, he tried to scratch Hugo’s hand to the point he scars them, kicking his legs at him but he wouldn’t let him go!

Angel on the other hand was trying as fast as he could to get up, forcing himself despite his wounds so he could go and safe Flynn.

“Time to pay for your crimes, you little shit!”

“W-What are you going to do? Let me go- LET ME GO!!!”

Hugo only smirked and his free hand was covered with fire now, reaching it dangerously near Flynn’s face… wait he isn’t-

“No no n… NO NO NO!!! STOP IT STOP IT NOW!!

Genuine fear was consuming Flynn, he is panicking so bad that many voices in his head are now being a pure mess, h-he doesn’t know what to do… the only thing he can actually clearly think of is calling for help only, calling for his-

Alas the hand finally landed on the right side of his face, burning it so bad that a bloody painful scream come out from Flynn and all the while he screamed for only one person to help him.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAA- B-BROTHERRRRRR!!!!”

the scream was so loud that Sam and Rue could hear it, they immediately went to where the scream was coming from.

It didn’t take long for Rue to arrive and immediately kick the hunter away and letting go of Flynn, who had been caught by Angel who finally got up and also Sam who just arrived soon after.

“I-Is he gonna be okay?” Sam asked Angel who was using his ice powers to cool down the burn on Flynn’s face. “H-He is still alive but he passed out, he is in a really bad state!”

Hugo slowly get up from the ground, if he still alive he for sure would had died because of that strong kick. Alas he is not~ seeing how Flynn is now on the ground, pass out and all badly burned just made him smile like crazy and laughing like a maniac! Oh~ he can not wait to actually burn his whole body now and kill him-… “wait… what is this”

Thick Blue fogs suddenly covers the area, Hugo seemed so confused but the three survivors seemed to know what’s going on.

“W-WHAT YOU THREE LOOKING AT ME FOR, WTF GOUNG ON!!”

No answer…

“How dare you…”

“Huh?…”

Where did this voice come from? None of the survivors even move their mouths to say anything and… it seem as it came from behind. He immediately looked behind him and he saw him…

Phineas was standing behind him… but he looked drastically different from the friendly looking showman the survivors are used to, the best you could describe his appearance is simply HORRIFYING just like an actual ghost should look like.

Before Hugo can even door say anything, Phineas grabs him by the neck so strongly you can almost hear a crack coming from it.

“You coming with me.”

.

.

.

The Hunter had surrendered.

All survivors gonna return to the manor.

Fin.

[charlotte-of-wales]

Im gonna a rant a bit but some blogs are really throwing mud and whatnot at Diana because C&C are disliked/hated. I don’t think Diana is an angel, she made a shit ton of mistakes and was very manipulative towards the press. But that said people are sympathetic to her because she was only what 19/20 when she married an older man who frankly had no business marrying a teen. She then got pregnant shortly afterward and unlike Kate started as a working royal immediately. There was very little patience for her and a lot of press attention on her when she got engaged, she also didn’t get much help from the palace unlike say Kate&M (despite what M may claim). Then her husband starts an affair. Frankly I get why she’s so messed up, she never had a stable home and married&had a kid when she wasn’t mature herself.

Im not saying she was an angel and didn’t do fucked up shit. She herself had affairs and harassed her affair partners and their wives.

But its ironic that the people who claim C&C are hated because of Diana slandered them; and try to justify or excuse C&C’s affair then go on and slander Diana for the exact same shit C&C do.

Im not saying Charles and Camilla are evil and that they shouldn’t be king or queen. I also think those who rag on them for their affair are stupid and should move the fuck on. But why slander a dead woman. She was messed up and frankly her own family let her down by first letting her get married so young and then kinda abandoning her. Let her rest in peace, she’s been dead for nearly 30years.

I mean, there's always a gray area when talking about real people who make real mistakes. The heavy criticism of Diana is a response of the abuse C&C have experienced for decades mainly coming (from what I've seen) from younger people who have a more nuanced views on things.

I feel for Diana for going through the madness of marrying into the royal family (to a much older man no less) at such a young age and becoming a mother soon after. Her childhood was also very difficult and she clearly struggled with some inner demons and never got proper help or support. As someone whose mother has been treating me as her personal therapist since I was eight though, I also do have a major issue with how she treated William as a grow-up since a very young age and I can't imagine how it must have been growing up seeing your parents' divorce splashed on the front pages of tabloids, having your mother crying to you about it and also feeling a sense of loyalty towards your father's family since they represent an institution of which you'll be the head of one day. I also find this version of her that people have created in their heads very hypocritical to the point that is comical - with her having cheated, being an avid supporter of the monarchy and having said some pretty problematic things as well and yet the narrative is that she wanted to see the monarchy crash and burn while also being #woke in the 80s.

Same goes for C&C. They both messed up, but also they've been dragged to hell and back for messing up decades ago. I think nuance is needed when talking about these people as, again, there is a gray area but honestly, when it comes to royal watching it's better to just tune stuff out. There's always going to be someone who disagrees with you.

[bratbarzal]

On Your Side (NH13) / Chapter One

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen*

*I say it's an OC, it's just a name and third person POV. I use minor character descriptions because I don’t get on with writing vague reader inserts/YN for long-form, story heavy fics, but I will generally try to avoid including race and body type or really any physical descriptors. I’m always open to feedback on my writing, or how to be more inclusive.

WC: 14k

Chapter Warnings: angst, miscommunication, drinking, some fluff!! a cute flashback and a happy ending, references to poor relationships with parents/bad parenting (including minor mentions of maternally-encouraged disordered eating but not an ed), instagram stalking, allusions to cultural appropriation and problematic tweets, depictions of anxiety, a lot more words than necessary because it was like 23 words away from the next thousand and I'm nothing if not a yapper

Summary: Poppy Jensen’s job with the New Jersey Devils was supposed to be her first big step into adulthood - a way to prove to herself and her overbearing parents that she could make her own way in life. She was never supposed to become involved with any of the players. Becoming best friends with their captain was stupid. Getting her heart broken by him was tragic. Getting knocked up with his child was just plain messy.

Series Masterlist

Previous Part (Prologue)

A/N: thank you thank you thank you for all your kind messages and feedback around the first part it really means a lot to me!! taglist included at the end, if you want to be added pop me a message :)

when I first started writing and mapping this series out I never intended to have split pov chapters cos that's !a lot! but I ended up writing so much more from Nico's perspective I literally never write male pov cos who wants to be in the mind of a man?? not me. but Nico comes easy to me what a man what a man what a mighty good man. he's a bit dumb in this series but who isn't. don't shame him. he is very precious to me.

Poppy

How Poppy ever thought she would have been able to get away with tricking Jack Hughes into forgetting she said she would come to his party by just waiting out his drunkenness, she does not know.

The guy is a nuisance.

Her phone has been blowing up since she and Nia started getting ready for their evening festivities, sharing a bottle of rosé between the two of them as they both sit in Poppy’s bedroom doing their hair and makeup.

Jack: What time do u think u’ll get here? 😬

Poppy: idk

She’d tried being somewhat aloof in the hopes he would move on from bothering her and she could let the wine do it’s intended purpose of blurring her mild irritation from the day, but she’s starting to think mild irritation is Jack’s middle name.

Jack: rough estimate?

Poppy: roughly? 🤔

Poppy: idk 🙂

Jack: cool

Jack: ur uninvited

Poppy: cool 

Poppy: see ya next year

Jack: ur reinvented

Jack: invited*

Jack: attendance is mandarin

Jack: mandatory* ffs

“Is that Hughes?” Nia questions the continuous buzz of Poppy’s phone. She’s sat on the floor in front of the mirror with a curling wand in hand, her hair 90% done and curls pinned up to set them. Nia has borrowed some of Poppy’s pyjamas, and is sat wearing a silk robe she didn’t even know she owned. “Dude needs a hobby.”

“Annoying me is his hobby, I think.” Poppy locks her phone and puts it face down on her dresser as she skims through her closet. She did have an outfit picked out already for her usual New Years celebrations, but bar hopping around New Jersey and attending a fancy private party with a bunch of rich athletes and their drop dead gorgeous partners are two different ballgames entirely. 

Poppy knows all too well what it feels like to turn up to an organisation event underdressed, and she won’t be making the same mistake ever again - even if this is a party held in a player’s own residence, she knows that people will be dressed up.

It’s New Years Eve, for sake - everyone will be primed for a photo opportunity for the instagram dumps, her usual trusty top, skirt and boots combo won’t cut it.

“Blazer dress?” She holds up her latest suggestion so that her best friend can see it. She’s worn this one a couple times before, knows it makes her legs look incredible when she pairs it with some pantyhose so she doesn’t have to worry about getting too cold on the way there, but it limits her shoe options if she is going to cover her legs.

“Boring,” Nia throws back, and Poppy isn’t even sure she’s looked, but she knew the second she pulled it out her friend would decline - it’s what she’s been doing at everything Poppy owns for the past half an hour.

Poppy’s thankful she hadn’t started by trying on the options, knowing that if she was in and out of all the dresses she’d suggested, she would be a hot, flustered mess by now.

“Surely you’re running out of excuses by now, Ni,” Poppy sighs, stepping away from her closet so she could stare down Nia’s reflection in the mirror she was sat before. “You’re being absolutely no help.”

Nothing has been right.

The red strapless dress that flared out at the waist? Too Christmassy. The navy blue one shoulder body con dress? Too millennial. The rhinestone silver slip dress? Too much. The black off-the-shoulder mini dress? Too plain.

There is nothing in Poppy’s closet that is going to appease her best friend’s tastes, so she doesn’t know why she’s bothering.

“Just give me 2 minutes and I’ll find the one, trust me.”

“Why have you let me stress about this for so long if you’re just gonna come over here and pluck out something random like you’ve had it in mind this whole time?”

“Because I like winding you up and watching you go, Pop.” Nia winks at her from the mirror, holding up her near empty glass. “Top us both up, babe, you still have your cranky pants on from earlier.”

“I’m not cranky.” She mutters to herself, picking her phone back up from where she had just discarded it, and collecting both their glasses to take back through her apartment into her kitchen. 

The device buzzes as soon as she sets it on the counter, but she ignores it in favour of pouring herself a drink, taking gulps of the rosé she’s just poured before topping both of the wine glasses back up with equal measures. She needs the extra pick-me-up to calm her nerves, and debates swigging down her second glass when she turns her phone back over.

Jack: ur grumpiness is contagious btw

Jack: u have broken my captain

Below Jack’s messages, he has sent through a picture. It’s a setting Poppy knows all too well, having only left a few hours ago after helping finish set up the party. In the midst of everything - decorations, attendees with drinks in hand chatting away and mingling with each other - Nico stands alone. He has his arms crossed, the sleeves of his sweater rolled up to his elbows, and he looks deep in thought. The people around him have turned into their own conversations, but he shows no interest in joining them, not in the picture at least. 

It’s not the way she remembers him to be - not the way the pictures that still litter the front of her refrigerator portray him to be. Front and centre in most of them, tongue sticking out or mouth open in a face consuming grin in all, drink in hand in a few. Her free hand lifts until her fingers graze over one of the pictures - taken when the Devils had thrown a party after they had clinched the playoffs at the end of last season. Nico and Poppy stood together, his arm slung around her, cheeks smushed together as the rest of the boys and a couple other friends from within the team pressed themselves into the frame, smiles so big she can barely see their eyes. 

She doesn’t know why the pictures are still up. She should have taken them down, by now. Made way for new memories. Pictures of her with Nia or any of her other friends, pictures of her with family, but she struggles to recall a memory as happy as the ones magnetised to her fridge door - none from the past few months, anyway. 

Her eyes dart back to the picture on her phone. Nico doesn’t seem himself, but, then again, he hadn’t seemed entirely himself earlier, either. The few smiles he had offered hadn’t quite reached his eyes, she had noticed, and he constantly broke out into nervous ticks - chewing at the inside of his cheek, scratching at the skin of his elbow when he folded his arms across himself, rocking on the heels of his feet. 

Sure, she hadn’t been the nicest to him, but that was the first time they had spent any longer than a minute in each other’s company since the summer, and she’d noticed him being off before that interaction.

He’d been similar when she’d seen him throughout the last week at work. Zoning out sometimes, eyes focusing on some far off spot until someone spoke directly to him and shook him out of it.

Whatever is going on with him isn’t her fault.

Her grumpiness is not contagious.

She isn’t even grumpy.

Poppy: not grumpy

Jack: he’s watching the door

Jack: has been since he got here

Jack: clearly waiting for someone 👀 

Poppy: maybe you should talk to him instead of texting me

Poppy: be a good host

Jack: he’s waiting for u 🙂

Poppy: not friends, remember? 🙂

Jack: popstar

Poppy: 🙄

Jack: pls hurry

Jack: he’s depressing me

“This one.” Poppy hadn’t even heard her best friend approaching, her lack of shoes and her featherlight step making her the perfect creeper. Nia is stood on the other side of the kitchen island, holding a dress between both of her hands. Poppy puts her phone back down on the counter and leans over it to properly assess what is being shown to her.

The dress is asymmetric, she thinks - she can’t entirely tell by the way Nia is holding it and she knows she hasn’t worn it before, can still see the tags attached to the label inside - one of the shorter ones in her closet, but not in the way she will worry about flashing her co-workers all night, and a boat neck so she doesn’t have to worry about it being too revealing up top. It ticks most of her boxes. Not too bright, not too showy. She’s pretty certain she’d shown it as one of her earlier options, but Nia had turned her nose up at so many things she can’t remember. She only wishes she had saved herself 30 minutes of irritation by not asking in the first place.

She reaches out to where Nia is holding it, feeling the fabric between her fingers, testing to see if she can see them through the material and breathing a sigh of relief when she can’t. She takes the garment out of her friend’s reach entirely and holds it up in front of her body.

“Are you sure? It’s not too dressy?” Poppy mocks, trying to catch her reflection in the glass parts of her kitchen cabinets. 

“It’s perfect,” Nia says, eyes pulled down by the flash of a new message on Poppy’s phone. Too distracted by trying to get a good look at herself, Poppy doesn’t notice her best friend pick up the device and start looking through.

She wouldn’t usually mind, but Nia has been dropping comments ever since she had arrived at Jack’s place earlier, and Poppy has only just been able to shrug off her commentary. 

“Why is Jack sending you weird, sad pictures of Captain Sexy?”

“Could you stop calling him that?” Poppy frowns, reaching back out for her phone only for Nia to pull it out of her reach.

“Oh my God, Pop, he’s waiting for you!” She pouts, flipping the screen to show Poppy the newest picture of Nico sat checking his watch.

He’s doing her no favours right now.

“Don’t you start with that, too. I don’t know why everyone’s so intent on blaming me for how sad he looks.” she scoffs, “He’ll be waiting for his girlfriend, Ni,”

“About that,” Nia taps away at the phone before turning it again towards Poppy’s glare. “There’s no trace of a girlfriend on his insta,”

“You’re probably checking the wrong one.”

“Nope. Checked both while you were in the shower before. Not even a sneaky hand shot or a corny Christmas stocking with her name on.”

“Give me that,” Poppy finally manages to snatch the cell back, crease forming between her brows as she frowns down at the device, scrolling through Nico’s private instagram where she knows for a fact there had been pictures of him and Talia earlier in the month.

It isn’t that she checks frequently, she just hasn’t unfollowed him yet - wasn’t ready to put the final nail in the coffin wherein lied their friendship, so to speak - and so she’d seen them as he posted them. And she had maybe tried not to throw up in her mouth and had cast her phone beneath a stack of cushions and throws on her couch to avoid it for a few hours after the fact.

The pictures of them in New York City have disappeared. As have the ones from early December, where they were looking at Christmas trees together, wrapped up in matching hats and scarves with sickly sweet loving gazes cast toward each other. Nothing in November, when Talia had started coming to games and he had posted something with a corny caption along the lines of her being his biggest fan. No carousels, no story highlights, and when she checks his following list, Talia is nowhere to be found. 

“Huh,” she mutters, going into the search function and trying to hide from her best friend that Talia is already one of the options there. She really needs to clear her history before that lands her in trouble. 

Her latest post is a photo dump from Christmas, Talia with her family, as well as a few other pictures of her in New York throughout December, no sign of Nico in any of them, and he hasn’t liked it. Hasn’t commented his usual red heart. She has no qualms about checking her story - she and Talia were never introduced, she’ll have no idea who she is or care that she’s viewing her story, and she’s a model with thousands of followers, Poppy isn’t sticking out to her at all - and squints to read the text over a video of fireworks before realising it’s written in German. She isn’t in New Jersey. She’s already in 2024 in a whole other timezone, and has left Nico behind.

No wonder he’s grumpy.

Not her fault, after all.

When Poppy snaps herself out of sleuth mode, she looks up to meet Nia’s knowing gaze. She looks smug. Like she’s caught her out - and Poppy can’t even deny that she has. “Stalker."

“You started it.” She huffs, pointlessly locking her phone knowing Nia knows the password and throwing it onto the side. 

“I was doing my due diligence as your best friend,” Nia shrugs, picking up the wine glasses as the pair make their way back toward Poppy’s room to finish getting ready. “If we’re heading into a New Year, we are doing so as new and improved women, Poppy. 2024 is the year of reconciliation!”

“I thought 2024 was the year of saying yes.” She mockingly references the mantra her best friend has been spouting since the start of December every time she made a somewhat irrational decision.

“That too, obviously.” Nia smiles big, waiting until Poppy has laid her dress out on the bed to hand her her drink over, holding her own glass out for a toast. “To saying yes to reconciliation!”

“You’re an idiot.” Poppy says, but clinks her glass, anyway. 

“No, you are, Pop.”

Poppy can’t shake the buzz of anticipation as the two girls finish getting ready, the previous pool of trepidation in her gut swirling into something a little more optimistic. 

It means nothing, she tries to tell herself as she fastens her earrings and fans her hair out down her back so it doesn’t get all tangled up in the hoops. Instagram isn’t a reflection of reality, Poppy, you know this.

There are several reasons the pictures could be gone. 

There is a high possibility he has archived the posts because someone leaked the photos of him and Talia. They were on his private account for a reason, and Poppy knows the guys have all had trouble with this kind of thing before - photos from private events being posted all across fan socials because someone had taken screenshots from a hacked account. And she also knows there had been some kind of discourse around Talia online - about some tweets she’d put out years ago or a photo fans had found from a halloween party where her costume wasn’t entirely appropriate - but Poppy had tried not to get lost in it. She didn’t want to form an opinion on the girl without having properly met her, considering they still technically operated in the same circles despite Nico’s insistence that he and Poppy no longer did.

Nico is a protective person by nature - she’s been on the receiving end of it before, so she knows how quickly he can shut things down when intrusive fans become a little too much - and having his privacy violated like that would definitely cause him to be grumpy. 

But with the looming possibility that she is looking too much into such an easily misinterpreted detail, the memory of their earlier interaction floods back to the forefront of her mind.

He had spoken to her. In clear, full sentences. As much as she had let him, at least. Had tried to initiate actual conversation, wanting a back and forth that she hadn’t been prepared to reciprocate. He had wanted to help her, wanted to be around, and for as long as he had been with Talia, he hadn’t wanted any of those things. 

Something has to have happened, another voice chimes in within her. He’s been off all week, remember?

Shut up, shut up, shut up. 

Poppy can’t let herself fall down the rabbit hole of what ifs and hypotheticals. Not anymore. She’s spent the last 4 months in her head about the whole thing, and if she’s going to enter the next year a new and improved woman, she needs to learn to let things go.

Saying yes to reconciliation is one thing, letting delusion take over is another. 

She casts a final look over herself in the mirror, fingertips flitting over each of the touch points she wants to check before she leaves. Hair still feels smooth, free of knots and frizz so far, earrings are secure, necklace clasped and positioned right, heels buckled, a couple of rings on odd fingers.

When her right hand brushes her left wrist, her eyes dart over to the jewellery box on her nightstand, where all her favourite pieces are discarded at the end of each day. She knows what is sat in the bottom, has had to ignore its presence every day when she reaches in there to put on her other bits. 

On her right wrist sits a welded bracelet, identical to the one currently wrapped around Nia and her other friend Kelsey’s wrists. The trio had gotten the matching permanent jewellery at a random pop-up one weekend in SoHo, figuring it was the more responsible thing to do than get tattoos to symbolise their friendship, and it has lasted well for being 3 years old. Still shiny, still pristine, still as gold as the day it was fixed to her arm. Still never cut off for the sake of an MRI like her mother keeps threatening she will need. Sometimes she wears a watch, usually one gifted to her by Nia after one of her trips to Japan - gold banded with a mother of pearl watch face, classic and goes with everything - but she likes it more for every day, and doesn’t trust herself not to lose it or break the dial if she’s out somewhere at night with a few drinks in her.

Her left wrist has been bare since September, around the time she stopped reaching out to Nico. Before that, since she had received it on her birthday a couple years ago, it had been adorned with her favourite piece of jewellery she had ever been given. 

Most people gift Poppy silver, and not that she’s ever ungrateful to receive any present, she can’t bring herself to wear it outside of seeing whoever gave it to her. Silver just never looks right. Mixed metals aren’t her thing, either.

But Nico had gotten it right. A gemstone bracelet, pink tourmaline and opal stones dotted along a fine gold Figaro chain, similar to the one permanently enclosed around her other side. She had worn it every day, wouldn’t even take it off to sleep, and had only stopped when she started to feel the true weight of it.

A constant reminder of a once formidable, now broken link.

“Look, I know you said no gifts,” Nico turned to face Poppy as she unbuckled herself from his passenger seat, turning the engine off so he could focus on her for a minute without the sound of the car running in the background. He usually does the same thing when he drops her home, parks up on the street and leaves the car off until she’s safe inside.

“The flowers from the team are very pretty, so you’re forgiven for going against your word,” She gestured towards the bouquet sitting on his back seat, craning her neck to look back and admire them. She had never seen a red arrangement quite as beautiful as this one - the use of tulips instead of roses a nice touch. “They’ll be dead in a week, but I’ll cherish them for as long as I have them.”

When she looks back toward Nico, he’s wearing a shy smile, and when her gaze drops to his shuffling hands, she notices the elongated black box within them.

“What’s that?” She asked, on too much of a high from such a good day to give him a hard time about it, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as her eyes look back up to meet his. 

“We don’t have to call it a gift if you don’t want to,” he extended his hand out towards her, the box clutched between his fingers. “It can be payback for all the snacks you’ve given me in the last year.”

“The snacks you’ve stolen.” She corrected. 

“Well, when you keep your office stocked with the stuff only I like, is it really stealing? That sounds like a trap to me.”

“I’ve been collecting evidence against you for your crimes. What I do with it depends entirely on what’s in here.” She had tried to shake the box by her ear to gauge the contents. 

“You’ll like it.”

“You sound very sure of yourself.”

“Open the box, Mohn.” Nico’s voice was lower, commanding, and he leaned forward over the console, so close she could probably count his eyelashes if he gave her the time to do so.

The box itself was fancy, bound in black velvet and magnetised like a sunglasses case, so she knew it had to be something nice in there - knew he wasn’t pranking her with team merchandise or a bobblehead version of him for her desk like Jack had tried to give her. 

She tried to shrug off the heat of his gaze as she pried it open, never enjoying opening gifts in front of the giver, but her mind went blank as she looked down at what he had gotten her.  

The stones in the bracelet matched that of one of the rings she already owned and wore every day, an ornate opal ring passed down from her late grandmother. There were pink gems in there too, and she knew as soon as she saw them what they were. 

“It’s your birthstones, right?”

She nods, unable to form any words yet, passing the box back over and holding out her left hand. Most other people she knows don’t pay enough attention to notice she wears gold everyday, and Nico knows her birthstones. “Could you put it on for me, please?”

Nico clasped the chain around her wrist, taking her hand in his and angling it a few ways to make sure it was the perfect fit - loose enough to move around and reposition with ease but not enough to fall past the base of her thumb. “Is it okay?”

“It’s beautiful, Nico.” She smiled softly up at him, watching his eyes reflect the dim ambient light in the car. “I’m never taking it off.”

“You probably should around water,” he had chuckled, bashfully, looking down and breaking their gaze, “I found it in a market back home, I’m not sure how durable it is.”

Poppy knew real gold when she saw it - knew the shimmer of natural gemstones and the shine of genuine opal, the stone on the bracelet mirroring that on her ring that she knew was antique and valuable. And although she didn’t care if it was expensive or not, she understood what he was trying to do. 

He hadn’t just stumbled across this on some street market.

Poppy reached over to grab either side of his face, leaning across the console and planting a firm, loud kiss on his forehead, chuckling slightly to herself when she pulls away and he wipes at where her lips had just been in faux disgust. “I’ll look after it, I promise.”

“Happy Birthday, Mohn.”

“Thank you, Nico.”

She had found herself admiring the bracelet every time it caught the light, and when she had met up with her mother days later to celebrate her birthday with her family, the authenticity of it was confirmed when she had heard her shocked gasp - her mom, an expert in fine jewellery, spending the entire evening fawning over it as if she was jealous it wasn’t clasped around her own wrist - and had spent the evening fighting off questions about who had gifted it to her. 

She shouldn’t wear it tonight, she thinks. That would be a bad omen - an assumption that one conversation between the two of them was going to immediately put them on the straight and narrow path back to being friends again. 

But it’s just a bracelet - a gorgeous one, at that, and Poppy has it in her head that she’s one beautiful accessory short of perfection. She marches over to the jewellery box, opening it up and picking the bracelet up from where it has its own compartment. No one will even notice she tells herself as she manages to clasp the metal around her wrist with one hand, it doesn’t mean anything.

She is about to enter the year of saying yes, after all.

“You good to go?” Nia asks from the doorway of Poppy’s bedroom, Poppy’s phone stretched out for her to take.

“Let’s go.”

Poppy: omw stresshead

Jack: finally!!!!!! 

Poppy and Nia arrive to a party that is well and truly in full swing. It’s crowded, Jack having invited all the team and a quite lot of the staff, and everyone has brought a plus one, so Poppy is glad she overcompensated for him when she ordered all the drinks and food. She's also glad Jack and Luke had overcompensated for space when picking out an apartment meant only for the two of them.

The girls had ubered over from Poppy’s apartment despite it being so close, partly due to the almost freezing temperatures in the midst of winter in New Jersey and partly due to the amount of wine they had consumed when they were getting ready.

Poppy is tipsy enough that her previous anxiety around coming has quelled for the most part, but not so much that she is unsteady on her feet. 

She’s has a sociable kind of buzz - not that she isn’t usually sociable - that makes her slip into conversations with ease and without much thought about what she needs to say.

She has introduced Nia to whoever she has talked to so far, her best friend holding her own in conversations too, and, attached at the hip, they have immersed themselves into random discussions with the guys, flitting between the different groups that had formed before they got here.

They joke with Luke about Jack torpedoing through the apartment checking in that everyone is having a good time.

John Marino cracks a joke about how on earth Jack has managed to lure Poppy out of whatever hole she’s been crawling into after work, and Nia joins in, affectionately jibing that 2024 is the year Poppy renounces her life as a recluse. She doesn’t usually take well to being the butt of the joke, but she’s happy her friend is getting on with the guys, and the rosé has now managed to fog up the part of her brain that takes offence to little things.

She chats with Holtzy and Jesper about their Christmas spent in each other’s company, not having the opportunity to do so in the week when she had been working. She talks to Dawson about his brief trip back home, to Curtis about his sons and coos at all the pictures he shows her of them in their cute little Christmas get-ups.

She reaches a point where she doesn’t even remember why she hadn’t wanted to be here.

She has built such great relationships with the guys on the team over the years she has worked with the Devils - those friendships extending to their significant others, too.

And it’s only a matter of time before she is pulled into a group of the girls. It’s been a while since she’s been able to catch up with them, having not spent too much time with any of the team outside of work for so long. She is introduced to the new faces, is flashed the sparkling new engagement rings she had only seen on instagram, and is practically given a play-by-play for all the things she’s missed since she truly had dropped off the grid to them.

It is Jesper’s partner, Nicole, who has the guts to open the gossip floodgates. It starts off innocent on her end, telling Poppy about how she and Jesper had hosted Christmas at their place for some of the European bunch, which she already knew after her conversation with Alex and Jesper, and how she had been stressing about how many people she was going to have to entertain. She mentions the amount of food she had to cook, especially considering the amount of hungry athletes in attendance, and then says, “I am thankful Nico turned up alone, after all, though. We ran out of chairs, I almost had to have people standing to eat.”

“Nico went to Christmas alone?” Nia’s ears have clearly perked up at the information, along with the few of the other girls, who all lean into the circle - a telltale sign, if any, that they have stumbled into a juicy topic of conversation.

“Yeah, him and Talia are done.” 

“I knew it!” Nia yells in triumph, pointing at Poppy with a too loud, “I told you so!”

Poppy pinches her best friends finger until she drops it, the other girls giggling at her outburst. Thankfully, not too many eyes have been cast their way, the steady thump of the music overpowering their conversation. 

“You didn’t know anything,” Poppy rolls her eyes. “She just stalked his instagram.”

“Yeah, sure, I stalked his instagram,” Nia scoffs, “His instagram which his girlfriend has mysteriously disappeared from, Pop, doesn’t take a genius to put 2 and 2 together!”

Poppy really doesn’t want to be having this conversation again. “He probably archived the posts, Ni.”

“Nope. They’re done. Deleted.” Nicole shrugs, “No chance we’ll be seeing her again.”

“Why?” For someone who doesn’t want to engage in a gossip session about the object of her own problems, Poppy sure has had her interest piqued there.

“She dumped him like 2 weeks ago.”

They had literally just been on a romantic trip together, Poppy remembers, why would she dump him?

“Over text.” One of the other girls adds.

“What?!”

“Nia!”

“Sorry!” Nia grimaces at her previous volume, this time definitely attracting attention. “Over text?” She whispers to the circle of girls, who nod in response. “What a bitch.”

Poppy’s stomach feels tight, like her insides are cringing at the realisation of what she’s engaging in. The girls continue to talk around her, but she can’t focus enough to make out words, guilt clouding her senses. 

She doesn’t want to talk about Nico - not like this, at least.

She doesn’t want to dissect the breakdown of a relationship he clearly cherished - enough to squash their own. Doesn’t want to pick apart what went wrong, or map out a timeline of how and when things fell apart. 

She doesn’t think she could even if she did want to, because all she can do is think about those pictures Jack had sent her earlier, and about how she’d shut Nico down before when he had maybe tried to talk to her - potentially wanting to open up to someone.

As much as she hasn’t been that person for him in a while, she has always wanted to be, and so she can’t help the shame that gnaws at her. Wondering that maybe if she’d had the nerve to take a proper look at him when she’d seen him earlier, or at any point when she’d been in his vicinity and ducked around corners or hung her head to avoid him in the past couple of weeks - if she’d taken notice of him, just once - she’d have been able to see through him. 

She’s been so wrapped up in the way she’s been feeling, the way she has been hurting, that it hasn’t occurred to her that he could be hurting, too.

Maybe not for the same reasons, but hurting, all the same.

“I’m gonna get another drink.” She mutters out quietly, excusing herself from the group and ambling through everyone to get to the kitchen. 

“Why do you look like that?” She hears as she’s looking through the different bottles littered atop Jack’s countertop. “Please tell me you’re having a good time.”

“It’s not quite the depression session I was promised,” Poppy pouts mockingly over at her jittery friend, trying to fix whatever Jack had seen on her face to question her. “Are you having a good time, Jack?”

“I am if you are.” He reaches out for one of the bottles in front of her, twisting off the cap and taking a swig straight from the bottle of Jim Beam. Poppy grimaces at even the thought of how that tastes. The poor kid is wasting his night away stressing when he should be enjoying himself, she thinks.

“You’re sweating.” She observes.

“Yeah, well, I think I’ve hit 10k steps checking in on everyone.”

“Everyone’s having fun, you should relax.”

“Not everyone,” Jack sings, clearly having found some liquid courage in his gulp of hard liquor. 

“99.999% of your guests are having a great time.”

“You know me, Poppet, I’m nothing if not a perfectionist.” He swings his arm around her, guiding her away from the counter until he can point towards the far side of his apartment.

Nico is stood with a few of the other guys - Curtis, Dougie and Timo. He’s listening to their conversation, nursing a bottle of beer in hand, looking between them as they speak, but he’s not engaging in it. Not talking back, only just smiling when the rest of them laugh. 

“If I’d have known you’d break him, I never would have sent him to help you earlier.”

“Yeah, I never thanked you for the ambush,” she shrugs out from under his arm, walking back to pour herself a drink, mixing herself a makeshift Paloma with what’s on the counter - tequila and grapefruit juice with a wedge of lime to try and jazz up the plastic cup. “You ever thought that maybe his bad mood has nothing to do with me?”

“No.”

“Jack, we’re-,”

“Not friends. Right. And the Pope’s not really a Catholic, and the Earth is flat.” Jack mocks.

“You know, I’ve always had my suspicions Luke would be the Flat-Earther in your family.”

“He is. He also thinks the world is run by lizard people.”

“Weirdo.”

“Total weirdo.” Jack chuckles, almost losing himself. “Stop trying to dodge the real issues, here, Poppy.” The lack of any childish moniker is Jack’s way of attempting to be stern, he doesn’t resort to it often, but when he does, Poppy tends to fold.

She’d tried her best to avoid broaching the topic of Nico at length with Jack. He’s his captain, his teammate, his friend, too, and it hadn’t felt fair to vent her feelings about the whole situation to someone he was equally, if not more, close to. 

There was also the minor detail regarding the voice inside her telling her Nico never cared about her in the same way that stopped her from opening up about her disappointment and hurt out of sheer embarrassment. The potential that she was mourning a friendship that never meant as much to him, and doing so to other people who saw all along what she was too naive to notice. 

But that hadn’t stopped Jack from trying to eke out information from her the whole time there had been a noticeable tension between the two of them.

He’d try and initiate conversation between them in group settings, often getting one or two word responses before one of them excused themselves. He’d invite either of them to plans he had with the other person, and there was even a stupid group chat he’d tried to form that Poppy quickly archived and ignored after Nico never responded to Jack’s clear attempt to reel them both in.

“You should talk to him,” Jack pushes, sticking to his guns and rooting for the revival of their relationship. “He’s had a rough couple of weeks, could really use a friend.”

If Poppy Jensen is motivated by anything in life, it is the crippling guilt that Jack knows just how to spark up.

“So I’ve heard. Maybe you should go check on him,”

“Don’t be annoying.” Jack frowns. “I know it sucked that he dropped you before, he’s an idiot and I won’t back him up for it, but you can either mope about it forever and both suffer, or suck it up and move on.”

“Go check on him, Jack.” Poppy speaks through almost gritted teeth.

“Poppy,"

“Don’t be a dumbass.” She sighs. “Be a good host, maybe see if he needs to get another drink,” she enunciates her words as much as she can, and her eyes widen suggestively, waiting for him to catch on. 

“Oh!” Jack exclaims, shooting back with a slacked jaw as realisation washes over him. “Yeah, he looks thirsty! Great idea, Poppy!”

He dashes off, bumping straight into someone and getting mildly distracted as their drink spills down his front.

Poppy mutters a profanity to herself, not able to watch the absolute train wreck of a man in front of her.

This is where making spur of the moment decisions gets you, she thinks, but her own thoughts are drowned out by another voice inside her head - one that sounds a little too much like her annoying, inebriated and loud best friend. This is going to be the year of saying yes. Yes to growing up, yes to moving on, and yes to olive branches offered to her from pouty Swiss hockey players who are clearly going through it right now and don’t need her to be stubborn about her forgiveness. 

She tries to busy herself in Jack’s kitchen, making quick work of straightening out all the drinks and throwing away some of the discarded cups - anything to avoid looking over to where she knows Jack is being his obnoxious self.

She can practically hear him from where she stands, not knowing lowkey if it smacked him in the teeth. Poppy’s asked me to lure you to the kitchen or Poppy’s absolutely desperate to speak to you, Cap.

Annoying.

“Hi.”

Unlike earlier in the day, Poppy allows herself to truly take Nico in when he stands in front of her, this time. 

He’s dressed in all black, a dark sweater and dark jeans, no hat for once though - his hair has grown out enough that it’s at the length he usually gets frustrated with it and hides it under a beanie or a backwards cap, but tonight he hasn’t, unless he’s taken one off and discarded it somewhere. It is a little unruly, but more in the way he might have been running his hands through it all night. And he hasn’t shaven in a few days, she can tell - the darkened formation of a shadowy stubble frames his jawline and runs in a slightly jagged line below his cheek.

“Hey,” she attempts a warm smile when she notices him chewing at the inside corner of his mouth, nervously anticipating a response. Her own heart is thumping so hard in her chest it almost feels like it’s echoing. “You want a beer?”

“Yeah,” he nods, stepping further into the kitchen so he’s on the same side of the counter as her. “Jack just stole mine straight out of my hand. Thanks.”

Of course he did. “He’s a strange boy.” She says, wanting to distance herself from his behaviour. If she’s being fair to herself, she hadn’t asked him to be a freak in his endeavour to send Nico over here - he chose that path, himself. 

“Very.” Nico affirms, taking the bottle out of her hands by the neck to avoid touching her. “He’s asked me seven times already if I’m enjoying myself.”

“Yeah, I don’t think we should let him throw another party for a while, it makes him go weird.” She watches him smile as he takes a sip from his drink. “Are you, though? Enjoying yourself, I mean.”

She doesn’t remember talking to Nico ever making her feel like this before. Like an uphill climb to figure out what to say and still only coming out with unfamiliar small talk. But she can give it time, she thinks. Maybe it just needs time. They just need to warm up to each other, again.

“Yeah, but I want to make him sweat a little, so don’t tell him I told you that.”

“I won’t.” The smiles they share are familiar. Knowing. Like they’re the only two people in on a joke. “He said you’ve been off all night.”

She only realises once she’d said it that it’s almost word for word what Nico had said when she saw him earlier in the day. She wonders if he remembers the same thing, wonders if Jack had said something similar to Nico to prompt their run-in. If he had been worried about her in the same way she was starting to worry about him.

“Is that why he sent me over here? For you to scope out the reason for my bad mood?” He tries to keep his tone lighthearted, as Poppy’s has been, but she can tell it’s an effort not to sound bitter. There’s a disappointment that presses obviously on his posture, shoulders dropping.

“Cute how you think I’m at his beck and call like that,” she leans against the counter behind her, wanting to send a message through her body language that she’s settling in for a conversation, instead of avoiding one like before. “He’s worried about you, I think.”

“And you’re speaking to me now for his benefit?”

“No.” She tries not to frown at the accusation. Maybe his back is up after their earlier interaction. All she can do is own up to her actions. Growing up. Moving on. Accepting olive branches from pouty Swiss hockey players. Maybe even offering one of her own. “I feel bad for being a bitch to you before. You were trying to talk to me and I was shutting you down.”

“I didn’t think you were being a bitch, Poppy.” He leans against the counter that is perpendicular to her. 

“Oh, I’ll try harder next time, then.” She makes an attempt at a joke, and relief washes over her when he breathes out a chuckle. “I was for sure trying to blow you off.”

“Yeah, I got that from your two word responses.” He jokes back. 

It starts to feel like progress. A silence falls between them, and it isn’t uncomfortable, per se, but she doesn’t quite bask in it like she used to. Her muscles don’t relax the same and her worries don’t entirely ease up.

She glances over at him, able to take a good look as he stands with his arms crossed, looking down at the floor as if in deep thought. And, not for the first time in her life, Poppy wishes she could read Nico’s mind.

Nico

Nico is cursing every day he has spent in the cold, away from the warmth of Poppy Jensen. How he’s survived this long, he doesn’t have a clue, but he wishes more than anything he’d worked to fix things so much earlier than now.

It’s not the looming deadline of midnight that’s making him feel like this - he knows deep down that he’s placing an unnecessary time limit upon a reunion - but the instantaneous relief he feels whenever Poppy’s eyes meet his, and she keeps them there, looking straight through the privacy film he’s wrapped himself in for so long. He’d forgotten how good she was at that - making him feel deeply seen with one glance.

It’s the relief he felt when she’d smiled at him - fully, properly smiled; eyes crinkling slightly in the corners, soft, balmy lips stretching and cheeks rounding - or when she’d casually fallen back against the counter, feet crossing over each other at the ankles, showing him she had no intention of running away from him anymore. She’s even facing away from everyone else, not actively looking for a way out. It’s like a flashed out version of the Poppy he had only managed to catch a glimpse of earlier. 

He wishes he could have felt this sooner, the absence of the consternation that has clouded his every thought lately brings a welcome comfort. He feels like he’s taken his first deep breath in months, and he’s greedy with it, filling his lungs with everything she can offer. Snark - albeit with less bite than before - sarcasm, jokes, even the littlest offering of pity she seemed to give. He doesn’t have much time for anyone else’s attempts at empathy, but with her he doesn’t care, he’ll take it. With Poppy comes genuine concern, and that means she still cares.

That had been a little hard to gauge before, her avoidance and indifference blurring together, and her lack of emotion had stung, but he sees it better now. Sees it clearer - how she is consciously making an effort to make him feel better.

He doesn’t entirely know why, doesn’t think he deserves it.

“Did you have a nice Christmas?” He asks in an attempt to shift the conversation, not quite ready to attempt to tackle the behemoth elephant in the room - not with everyone around, at least. Although as soon as the words leave his mouth, his toes curl at how he’s now engaging in small talk with her.

Poppy scrunches her nose in a wordless answer, and he feels himself smile before he realises he’s doing it. “It was pretty boring,” she shrugs, “I had dinner with Nia and her dad and then came home, watched some football and snacked myself into a coma.”

Nico frowns, thick eyebrows pushing together as something akin to a fiery guilt bites away at the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t like the idea of Poppy being on her own for the holidays - she’s usually so tied into a routine around this time of the year that it doesn’t seem right. “You spent Christmas alone?”

“My parents went to California to see Oli and his family.”

“And you weren’t dragged along, kicking and screaming?” He asks. She shakes her head and gives him one of those smiles again - and pride swells in his chest at how well he knows her. 

Nico finds it strange how much comes flooding back to him when he gives himself the opportunity to think about her. To think about all the parts of their lives they had shared with each other, and all the little details about her that were ingrained within his memory as much as details about himself. Recalling tidbits of information about her comes to him as effortlessly as breathing.

“I’m a big girl, now, I can make my own decisions about where I spend my holidays, thank you very much.”

“I hope that’s not what you said to your mother.”

Nico can’t recall a single person in the world who intimidates him as much as Priscilla Jensen, and he has constant face-offs with amped up, aggressive, mostly 6 foot-whatever hockey players on a regular basis.

That woman is scary, but no one can handle her better than her daughter - he’s witnessed it first hand.

The first time he had ever met Poppy’s mom had been an unfortunate, unplanned accident. He’d been returning from a roadie, and Poppy had loaned him her headphones after his AirPods had given up on him mid-workout the week before. He could have just bought a new paid, but he’d run into her on her way out of work before the team were about to leave, and when he’d mentioned he was about to fly cross-country with no music, she had taken pity on him. She’d placed her headphones around his neck, telling him they had a full charge and should last him until he was home.

And they had. He’d gone straight from the team bus to her place after they’d gotten back from the airport - not much of a detour, her apartment not out of the way on his usual journey home - and when he knocked on the door, he was a little shell-shocked when her mother answered. 

A lot of things about the woman before him immediately intimidated him to the nth degree.

The way she somehow seemed to look down upon him, even from a stature that was inches shorter than his own. The way she was dressed, prim and proper, not a wrinkle in her fancy dress, somewhat out of place in the doorway of a Jersey City apartment. The way she so easily made her distaste of him obvious from the second she laid eyes upon him. Dread had consumed him, like he’d stumbled into a lion’s den and the only exit was immediately blocked behind him. 

“Who are you?” She had asked. No hello or can I help you? Just pure distain and an eyre of being inconvenienced by his mere presence.

“Oh, I’m Nico,” he stuttered. “Is Poppy here? Poppy Jensen?” He was starting to think he had to have the wrong place, and had seriously just ruined this woman’s day by knocking on her door and interrupting whatever sacrifice she was making to the gods behind closed doors to keep her youth. She was going to sacrifice him, next. But, there was no mistaking the relation when he took a proper look. The slope of her nose, the curve of her lips, the unique shade of her eyes, he was definitely in the right place. “This is Poppy’s apartment, right?”

“What do you want with her?” Her glare was just as accusatory as her tone, like he could ever be worth a second of her or her daughter’s time.

Nico’s throat was closing up. As captain of the Devils, he had faced some hard press in his time Having to deal with media after back to back losses, organisation restructures, poor performances, and dancing around admitting to injuries for himself and his teammates - but he hadn’t had to answer to anyone like this in a long time, and he was seconds away from apologising, forgetting how to speak English, and bolting back down the stairs before he heard Poppy’s voice. 

“Jesus, Mom, cool off,” she had sighed, coming into his field of vision behind the scary woman before him. “This is Nico, he’s here to whisk me away into the sunset and elope so I don’t have to answer to you guys anymore.”

Nico’s eyes widened. If she didn’t have a reason to hate him before, she sure did now. Thanks, Poppy.

“That isn’t even remotely funny, Poppy,” her mom snarled, disgust evident in her tone. “You have 5 minutes before we’re leaving.”

She had stormed off then, the echo of her heels clicking against the hard wood floors of Poppy’s apartment echoing until they eventually dulled when Poppy came out into the hallway and closed the door behind her. 

“Hi,” Poppy gave a bright smile, as if Nico hadn’t almost just been traumatised.

“I just came to drop these off,” he had gulped, with an alarmed look to make sure she had definitely closed the door and he was safe. He handed over the headphones, as well as a cookie he’d got her from the airport. “Did I do something? Has she gone to put some sort of generational hex on my family back there?”

“You didn’t give her your last name, did you?” Poppy asked, her eyes widening in mocking horror. 

“Not funny.”

“Don’t worry about her,” Poppy scoffed, “She wouldn’t waste her evil energy on such petty curses. She’s already forgotten you exist, bud.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” He shuddered, “I don’t think I’ve ever met anybody that so outwardly hates me within seconds of meeting, before.”

“She’s like that with everyone, I wouldn’t take it personally.” Poppy tears open the wrapper to the cookie before bringing it up to her mouth and taking a bite. She hums in appreciation.

“What, even you?”

“Especially me.” She covers her lips as she speaks around the mouthful of gingerbread. When she’s finished, she gives a gentle smile, reaching out to pat his arm, thankfully. “Thanks for the cookie, I’ll let her know who’s to blame next time she’s over and I’m like half a pound heavier.”

“Maybe I should take that back,” he frowned, reaching forward only for her to pull her arm back, out of his reach. 

“Nope. This is my only sustenance for the evening. Who knows if she’ll let me even look at the hors d’oeuvres.” She shudders. “I’m resigned to a night of sparkling water and biting my own tongue.”

“If you need me to make up some emergency for you to leave whatever hell it is you’re being taken to, I could call you. I’m really good at fake crying.”

“I bet,” Her eyes shone with mischief, biting back a grin. “Unfortunately I don’t think she’d care enough about your wellbeing to let me leave, but I appreciate the effort, thanks, Cap.”

It was only the rush of blood to his cheeks and the need to divert his gaze from the teasing glimmer in her eyes that brought his attention to Poppy’s attire. An ankle length, satin cocktail dress fit like a glove to Poppy’s figure, the bright magenta colour not something he was used to seeing her in, but complimented her skin tone perfectly, nonetheless. Her hair fell in loose waves, one side tucked behind her ear, and her makeup was soft - cheeks flushed, lips balmy and a small spattering of barely-there shimmer in the corners of her eyes, making them sparkle even more than usual. “You look nice, Mohn” He hadn’t tried to make his voice sound any kind of way, but it had come out lower, breathier than normal, and he couldn’t quite pinpoint the new feeling that began to brew in the pit of his stomach. 

“Thank you,” she had given a bashful smile, reaching her left hand up to tuck her hair behind her other ear, too. The bracelet on her wrist had caught the light, the same one he had gifted her on her birthday a few months before, the same one he hasn’t seen her without, since. The beat of the peaceful silence that fell between them was harshly interrupted by the shrill call of Poppy’s name from within her apartment, accompanied by a banging on the other side of the door. Instead of shouting back, Poppy just banged back on her side with her elbow. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Only if you can figure out how to break the curse she’s for sure put on me back there.” He pouts, “Otherwise, it might be too late.”

She smiles big, and his lips automatically mirror the curve of hers, arms instinctively opening for her to shuffle into his embrace. “I’ll see what I can do to save the fate of all future Hischier children.” She promised as her arms wound around his back. “Bye, Nico.”

“Bye, Mohn.” He’d pressed his lips to the top of her head before backing away, making sure she was somewhat safe inside before making his way back down the stairs.

Nico had left her that night to whatever her unspoken, fancy plans with her mother were. He’d driven back to his apartment, unpacked from his roadie, and had spent the evening alone, watching soccer and eating meal prep. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed at the fact he had ended up viewing Poppy’s instagram story a mere 40 seconds after she had posted it. 

She had been with Nia, still dressed up, both of them wearing goofy smiles as they fed each other greasy pizza outside one of the hole-in-the-wall vendors in the city across the river.

That had been maybe 18 months ago, and it concerns him only slightly how little has changed in that time.

He’d done the same thing tonight, before Poppy got here. Sat on his own, busying himself by doing nothing on his phone, refreshing instagram in the hopes she or Nia might have posted a story and he could tell where she was outside of checking the door every couple of minutes for her arrival. 

He wonders, as he remembers back on how easily Poppy had handled her terrifying mother, if things are still the same with them, but refrains from delving too deep into that whirlpool, and instead asks, “She didn’t blow up on you, then?”

“Worse, she gave me the cold shoulder for a week.”

“Sounds like the dream.”

“You’d think so, but my mother’s version of the silent treatment is surprisingly loud.”

He doesn’t know how he hasn’t noticed it before now. He’s had his eyes on Poppy from the second she came in. He’s watched her hug everyone she speaks to, has watched her hands gesture around whatever story she’s telling, watched her cover her mouth when she laughs a little too hard at someone else’s joke. But it’s only as she lifts the plastic cup she’s holding to her mouth and takes a sip that he catches the glimmer of the gemstones adorning her wrist. 

She wasn’t wearing it, earlier today. 

Hasn’t worn it in some time, he doesn’t think.

But she’s wearing it now - the bracelet he had given her for her birthday 2 years ago - as pristine as they day he had bought it. She’d worn it so much before that he had thought she’d permanently fixed it to herself, but she’s always taken good care of it. Always cherished it, despite him selling her short on its value.

And he knows he shouldn’t read too much into it. It’s just a piece of jewellery. But it isn’t. It never has been. Not to him, and certainly not to Poppy. So he can’t stop himself before the words tumble out from between his lips. “I think I need some air."

He looks up from her wrist to meet her eyes, now widened in confusion. “Oh,” her lips form a pout around the exclamation, her feet uncrossing and her back straightening until it’s no longer resting against the side. “Okay.” 

She seems disappointed, and he immediately realises that she thinks he means without her. “Would you come with me?”

“I, uh,” she cranes her neck to seemingly look back for something in the crowd of their teammates. “I didn’t bring a jacket.” She’s frowning when she faces him again, and he knows not to take it as another attempt to avoid spending time alone with him. She’s genuinely disheartened at the thought of missing out.

“You can borrow mine?” He suggests.

“Are you sure? It’s barely 30 degrees out,”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, like he even understands Fahrenheit, anyway. 30 degrees sounds decent. Where he wants to go, there won’t be much need for a jacket, but that would involve divulging more information to Poppy than he needs to share, right now. He just needs to get her to come with him. “I run hot, remember?” He swears he sees her blush - tries not to give into the quiver of his lip that’s fighting to curve into a smirk. He feels giddy, almost. “I also live upstairs.”

“Oh yeah,” she chuckles, nervously. “Let me just find Nia?”

“Of course.” He straightens up, “I’ll grab my jacket and meet you by the door.”

Nico had shrugged his jacket off somewhere in the corner when he had come in, and when he goes over to retrieve it, digging it out from a pile of coats that had formed since he got here, Jack rushes over.

“Are you-,”

“I’m having a great time, Jack.” He chuckles, and this time he thinks he means it. “Me and Poppy are gonna go out for some fresh air, so don’t go blowing up her phone when you can’t find her.”

“I would literally never do that,” he snorts in denial, backing away and acquiescing immediately, giving up whatever he had come over to bother Nico with. “You kids have fun!”

Nico finds Poppy waiting by the entrance to Jack’s apartment, hands busying themselves by playing with the rings on her fingers. She looks up as he approaches and smiles, accepting the jacket he hands over to her and immediately shrugs it on. 

The jacket is only slightly shorter than her dress, and so her bare legs come straight out from the bottom, but he hopes it’s enough to keep her warm for the time being. It has a fleeced collar, a thick overall lining, and he knows that if she puts her hands in the pockets, the soft sherpa interior will melt her icicle fingers in no time. And if her legs do get cold, he’s almost desperate enough for her approval that he will shuck off his pants and give them straight over to her.

He holds the door open for her, and when they get over to the elevator, he presses the button. They wait side by side in a comfortable silence, arms bumping each other as she sways very slightly on the spot. He tries not to get into his head about how she doesn’t move away. They stand similarly when they get into the elevator - he reaches forward to press the button at the top, and falls back into place beside her, her shoulder brushing his bicep.

“We’re going up?” She asks. “I didn’t think you could get on your rooftop.”

“They opened it up back in September,” he tells her, “It’s nice, there’s seating and tables up there and everything.”

“Oh wow, you’re gonna get hypothermia.”

“I’ll be alright,” he breathes out a laugh as the doors open, and he gestures for her to step out before him. He buries a hand into his pocket for his keys, pulls them out, and reaches around her to unlock the entrance to the roof - only accessible to a few people in the building if they have paid for the privilege. There’s a single flight of stairs before they make it up there, and they climb them side by side before he pushes the door open. He’s grateful for the lack of wind, tonight, but she’s right. It’s cold. And as much as he’s used to temperatures like this, he’s thankful he had the foresight to prepare for this earlier.

Nico guides Poppy with a hand on her back to the far corner of the rooftop, toward the pergola that surrounds the outdoor seating area. 

The city provides a decent glow at this time of night, but the pergola is lit up with ambient lighting strips, and it looks cosy. The couches have plush cushions, and the weather hadn’t been too bad the past couple of days, so it’s all dry. 

“Wow,” Poppy steps away from Nico, toward the side, hands reaching out to grasp the railings as she looks over what she can of the edge of the building. There’s a safety perimeter that stops her from being able to see to far if she wants to look down. “This is a lot higher than my roof.”

“It’s a great view, huh?”

“It’s incredible.” Nico had been on her rooftop with Poppy a couple times, and she has a great view, herself, but hers is blocked by some of the taller buildings to either side of hers on the waterfront. “You can see my apartment from here.” She points, and Nico’s eyes follow the direction of her finger. “We’ll have to get binoculars and test if you can see me through all my windows.”

As ridiculous as that suggestion is, Nico’s heart beats erratically at the idea of it. He can picture the scenario in his mind, clear as day. She’d get him to call her to test the theory, ask him if he could see how many fingers she was holding up, and flip him off from the window in her bedroom.

He laughs out loud at the thought.

“Do you come up here a lot?” Poppy burrows into his jacket, stepping away from the side and toward the seats.

“Not really,” he denies. He’d only gotten a key from the building manager today. He’d put in an urgent request after he’d seen Poppy and Nia, and realised Poppy wasn’t going to get to fulfil her New Years tradition. He’d wanted to do something nice, and as he takes in the wonder and amazement she exudes, he’s happy he did. There had been a few scenarios of how he’d get her up here, and he’d actually settled on a plan to give Nia the key and tell her to take Poppy up before midnight, but he much prefers how this is playing out. “Hasn’t been the weather for it.”

“Right,” she sighs, sinking down onto one of the couches, sitting with her knees tucked beneath her and her feet hanging over the edge so her shoes don’t touch the cushions. “Because the weather now is ideal for a rooftop gathering,”

Nico lifts the top of the storage trunk that sits beside the couch, reaches in and retrieves the blankets he’d stashed in there earlier when he’d scoped the place out. He throws one over to her and chuckles at the surprise that spreads across her face when she catches it. 

“I take it back,” she bites back a smile as she unravels the blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders and making sure it spreads to cover her legs. Nico waits until he’s sat before he wraps his around himself. He sits beside her, inclining his body towards hers, one leg under himself and elbow leaning on the back of the couch. When he drapes the blanket over himself, he does a quick check to make sure there isn’t any bare skin of Poppy’s he can see that he’d need to extend his cover over. “I never asked about your Christmas.”

Nico thinks that maybe he doesn’t hate small talk as much - talking about anything with Poppy is good enough. “It was pretty boring,” he echoes her earlier sentiment, smiling down at her when she glances over and rolls her eyes.

“C’mon, I know what you European guys are like when you all get together, Holtzy said a few of you were over at Jesper and Nic’s place.”

He lets himself wonder for a second if she’d asked about him, specifically, when she was talking to the other guys about how they spent their holidays. If she had still cared enough to consider where he had spent his Christmas, and wasn’t just asking now to fill in any potentially awkward silence or reroute the conversation from anything else.

“It was good,” he offers, vaguely, “I do think I was bringing the vibe down, though, wasn’t really in the Christmas spirit.”

Christmas at Jesper’s hadn’t been as bad as he’d made it out to be in his head in the build up to the day - he’d had a good time in the end, but he had left just after dinner; told everyone he was still tired and aching from their game the few days before. He’d paid no mind to the pitiful glances cast to him from throughout the group, and he would never in a million years admit to any of them that even in a room full of people that he did genuinely care about and love being around, he couldn’t shake the feeling of loneliness that crept up every time he glanced around and saw his friends all loved up with their partners and having the time of their lives.

He realises that he and Poppy had both been alone on Christmas, and maybe if he hadn’t have been such a royal idiot about things, he could have invited her along and had a chance to truly engage in all the festivities and joy.

“Never had you down as a party pooper, Nico.”

“You sound like Jack.”

“I take great offence to that.”

“I got dumped.” He may as well get this part of conversation over with, he’s going to struggle to skirt around it much longer. He almost expects surprise on her end, shock or disbelief, but Poppy just nods in understanding.

“I heard.” She purses her lips, shuffling until her elbow is against the back of the couch, a mirror of his own position, and she can listen with intent. “I’m sorry, I know how much you liked her. It seemed like you two were perfect for each other.”

Nico can’t hide the frown that takes over. He doesn’t feel like they were perfect for each other. Doesn’t remember trying to make it seem that way, or remember telling anybody in any kind of detail how much he liked being with Talia. He doesn’t quite understand how she had come to that conclusion. 

When she takes in his expression, her shoulders tense. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry or anything.”

“No, you’re fine, I don’t mind talking about it.” With you, goes unspoken, but lingers quite obviously between them, he hopes. He nudges her elbow with his, narrowing the space between them in the process. Pry away, he thinks. He’d much rather have Poppy poke around at the inner workings of his brain than anyone else. She’d be able to make much more sense of it. But she needs to do so with the right assumptions. “It’s just that it wasn’t really like that, I don’t think.”

“Oh.” She sounds almost disappointed, he thinks - disheartened, maybe. It almost seems like she wanted them to be good, wanted him to be happy, and seemed unsettled by the idea she had the wrong perception of it all. The idea brings back a constricting feeling in his chest. “Breaking up around Christmas must be like torture, either way,”

“The returns policies aren’t too bad this time of year actually.” He shrugs. He feels like enough air has cleared between them that he can attempt a joke to pick the mood back up. He doesn’t really want to talk at length about his break up - he’s processed it, he thinks, despite the short passing of time since it’s happened. He wants to talk about Nico and Poppy - he’s finally ready to now.

That doesn’t change the swell of pride he feels with the way she looks at him, like she hadn’t expected him to make light of the situation, and doesn’t know whether it’s okay to laugh until his own cheeks dimple and his eyes crinkle with mirth.

She scoffs out a genuine chuckle, and he can no longer feel the cold seeping into his bones; the blanket covering him is just a mere coincidence, it’s the warmth that radiates from Poppy that does the trick.

“That’s bleak,” she shakes her head, biting back a full smile. 

“I thought it was funny.”

“You can’t joke your way through heartbreak, Nico, trust me,” She gives a familiar sigh, and he wants to tell her his heart hasn’t been broken, but that’s a partial lie. It just hasn’t been broken for the reason she thinks. “My dad always says that’s like patching up a boat hole with a bandaid.”

“You Americans have such a way with words.” He smiles, fondly. “I think it’s easier to see the situation for what it was now that I’m out of it.”

He notices that pang of disappointment make another quick appearance before she has the chance to check herself. She seems to let his words stew for a second in her brain before forming her next question. “If you aren’t cut up about the breakup, why have you been so down these past couple weeks?”

Nico tries to remember all the times he had seen her in that period. The time she was speaking to Jack in her office, a couple times on the plane to and from away games, he’d maybe caught a couple of glimpses of her around the Prudential Center when she’d been working - but all those times, he had never managed to catch her eye.

Had she been looking out for him, too?

His lips part to form a response, but words fail him for the time being, and all he can do is tilt his head and try to properly decipher that look about her that she reserves just for him.

Poppy’s eyes glow in the subdued light, reflecting the faint beams that line the structure around them, and they narrow only slightly as he stares at her for a prolonged moment. 

He’d been a little harsh earlier when she’d tried to measure the scale of his mood - thinking it was only because she was pushed by someone else to do so - and she had said  that Jack was worried about him, but maybe she was worried, too.

He doesn’t want to worry her. 

He wants to explain things, but a sudden barrage of emotions seems to hit him at the concern etched upon her soft features. Months worth of inner, suppressed turmoil wreaking havoc within him like a tornado of grief, stress and longing. He had maintained an unwavering calm about himself for the last two weeks - or, so he had thought.

Whenever anyone had directly asked about the breakup, he’d given short, unattached answers, never showing his hand, never revealing his true feelings, and now he can feel it all climbing its way out from the depths of his chest. Feelings from before then, even, when he had been struggling in the months leading up to that God-forsaken text from Talia, and he’d had no one to talk to, clawing their way up, scratching his throat and burning the back of his mouth like acid that he needs to spit out before it has the chance to poison him. 

He wants to tell her none of it had been purposeful. How he’d slipped straight into routine, at first - pre season had been rough in comparison to his somewhat slack summer training schedule, and he and Poppy never used to hang out much at that point in the season anyway. In the beginning, it hadn’t felt like he was doing anything wrong by not reaching out.

He wants to tell her about the first time he’d seen her after he came back from Switzerland, at the end of summer get together the team had thrown for the whole organisation in the Prudential Lounge, and he’d seen her slink in through the side doors with one of her colleagues from the foundation to sneak some food from the buffet. He remembers the nerves creeping in, and how something had kept him rooted to his side of the room where he would have normally gone straight over to greet her. He’d introduced Talia to the team as his girlfriend that afternoon, and had tried to focus more on making her feel welcome than tracking where Poppy had ended up.

He wants to tell her about the pages he’s formed on his Notes app - wherein sits a bunch of drafted messages to her from the past week. Even stupid stuff that his mind has lingered on - mundane questions he wants to ask in order to catch up with everything in her life. Does she still have a weird food fixation for Caesar salad and French fries? Is she still trying to force herself to like matcha? Is she still thinking about getting a cat? Did her super fix that cracked tile in her bathroom that she keeps cutting her foot open on and complaining about it every time she has to walk more than usual?

He wants to tell her about how he was so focused on being the best player, the best captain, the best teammate, the best boyfriend, that’d he’d forgotten how to be a good friend. He knows that if anyone had no expectations of him to be the best, it would be Poppy, and so the excuse seems a bit pathetic when he reflects on it.

Instead, through a lump in his throat and the welling of tears in his eyes, he tells her, “I’ve missed you,” and hopes it’s enough to answer her question, and for her to understand the insurmountable weight of those 3 words.

Nico anticipates from the quiver of her bottom lip and the rounding of her eyes that she gets it.

Poppy offers him a kindness he knows he doesn’t deserve when she sits up straight and takes the weight off of where she’s leaning on her elbow. She shrugs the blanket from over her shoulders and throws her arms around him - barely giving him a millisecond to even fear a negative reaction.

Her grip around his shoulders is tight, burrowing her face into the crook of his neck, and he tries to match her fervour with his own embrace, arms looping around her ribcage and cradling her back. They both seem to squeeze, his hands stroking soothingly up and down her back, and he’s not sure if the erratic thumping he feels in his chest is his own heartbeat, or that of hers pressed against him. 

They stay together like that for a good minute, maybe more, her body relaxing a little more into his until she’s practically in his lap, knees overlapping his. 

Nico can’t remember the last time he felt this calm.

It’s only when he hears the hitch in her breath that he pulls away. 

He feels like he’s taken a hit to the gut when he gets a good look at her face - eyes glassy with unshed tears, her lips pursed as she bites at the inner corner of them. 

“I’m so sorry, Mohn,” he mutters softly, thumb raising to swipe at her cheek when a tear falls free. “Please don’t cry.”

“I don’t understand what happened,” she laments, “You just shut me out. It’s like you went home for the summer and decided you didn’t want to be friends, anymore.”

“That’s not,” he begins to rationalise it before realising he can’t. He barely has an explanation he can voice, not one he has been able to bring himself to understand, yet, anyway. “I wanted to come over and speak to you after like a week of being back, but I just-,” his throat starts to feel tight again, but if he doesn’t get this out now, he might not get it out at all. “Every day that passed that we didn’t talk, that I didn’t reply to your texts or come find you, things just got worse. And then, after a while, no matter how much I needed to reach out, it felt like I’d left it too long.”

He knows it’s a cop out of an answer, and that she deserves more, but she also deserves for him to be at peace with what he wants to say, and he isn’t quite there yet.

“You could have just come to me and told me you were being an idiot.” 

“That doesn’t feel like it’s enough.”

“It can be for now.” For now. She gets it. “I missed you too much to hold a grudge.”

“Really?” Nico can’t fully comprehend why she would go easy on him. She’s well within her rights to cause a scene - kick and scream and never speak to him again - but instead, she gives a remorseful shrug, glassy eyes casting down to her lap.

“I don’t want to lose you for the sake of my pride, Nico.” She admits. “And I could have fought harder, too.”

He knows he’s long lost the right to ask such a selfish question of her, but he can’t help himself. “Why didn’t you?”

“You seemed happy.”

The thud of his heartbeat rattling around his brain turns into an incessant ring, like the kind that people use to measure the frequency in which they stop hearing noise. His bones feel like they’re buzzing, and his lungs feel like they’re plummeting somewhat throughout his body, his breath stuttering in his chest.

Maybe this is her way of dishing out some unintentional cruelty - he can’t argue that he doesn’t deserve it - implying she would have, in any way, suffered herself, just because he seemed content in shutting her out. It hurts to acknowledge that he had let her hurt for so long.

“I wasn’t.” He feels slightly better having said that. It almost makes up for what he’d chickened out of saying before, hopefully saying more than the 2 words might suggest.

Maybe if they’d been speaking all along she’d have seen right through him - got a glimpse behind the curtain of the charade he’d been putting on since the summer. Maybe it would have eased the weight of whatever was sitting on his chest for the past 4 months, would have made everything just that little bit easier to have shared his true feelings with someone who had no expectations of him other than to be there.

He has missed having someone he can be honest with. Has missed not having to keep up appearances, or make himself bigger or smaller to fit someone else’s needs. 

And when Poppy’s fingers wrap around his, looping through them when they open up at her touch, and the bracelet she wears tickles softly at his own wrist, it washes over him just how much he truly had missed her. He’d said it before, but there aren’t enough ways to to say it and accurately convey the depth in which he feels it. Having her here, now, makes him feel whole in a way he hasn’t for a long time, and he hadn’t realised all the time he’d known her just how much she calms the storm within him.

He pulls her hand back over his shoulder and circles an arm around her waist, tugging her body back into his embrace until she’s cuddled into him and he’s leaning into the back corner of the couch. There’s no point in which she fights the movement into the position, and when his muscles settle into the cushions, she follows suit, her head resting on his chest and her legs thrown over his. 

The hold they have on each other now feels a lot more secure, and he manages to wrangle the blankets back over the two of them, covering her legs so they can stay like this for a little longer.

“Thank you for letting me back in.”

“Thank you for coming back to me.”

Neither of them make any effort to move, content in each other’s arms, not caring about the time - even when the distant calls of a countdown stagger in the air, stirring a pulse of anticipation, and muffled cheers erupt from the surrounding buildings, a symphony of joy washing over the city like a tide. Not even when the sky ignites into a breathtaking explosion of colours, the fireworks painting their world in vibrant hues, do they break free from their tranquil embrace.

“Happy new year, Mohn,” he whispers into the crown of her head, placing a soft kiss into her hair.

“Happy new year, Nico.” She whispers back, looking up at him to give him a heart-stopping smile that had his chest aching in an entirely new, almost welcome way.

taglist: @alwaysclassyeagle @bunbunbl0gs @idgaf-if-youre-here @youflowerr-youfeast @thearchersstuff @bellsdi0r @wonderheartz @jjgsunflower @butterflies35 (sorry if your tag hasn't worked btw)

> Chapter Two

[dyns33]

My Fellow Devil

Matt rejected Y/N’s love only to act jealous after, you know, like an idiot. 

(poke @o0itsjustme0o you more or less asked for this one)

As soon as Y/N met Matt Murdock, she knew she would never love another man.

Which seemed problematic, because Karen, who had introduced them, had immediately warned her that he wasn't one to have a stable relationship. She knew about it, she had tried, and had been a little heartbroken.

Foggy, Matt's best friend since college, confirmed to her that dear Murdock was not someone reliable on the sentimental level, even if he was a very good friend and an excellent lawyer.

Despite these warnings, Y/N fell for him, and for several months she struggled with herself to suppress her feelings.

Until she couldn't take it anymore. They were alone, and she decided it was time to be brave.

Matt smiled. A sad smile. And as soon as he took her hand, she knew it was going to be terrible.

It was all the more terrible because he was really adorable. Very kind.

Immediately he told her that he really cared about her. She was a very dear friend, whom he didn't want to lose, and unfortunately that might happen if they became more than friends. He was not good at it. He wasn't good enough for her. But he hoped she would understand and that they could continue to see each other as before.

Y/N made a joke about the fact that he couldn't see, and he laughed, with his beautiful laugh.

When she got home, she cried in her bed all night.

The following weeks, it was a bit difficult when she met Matt. He was trying to act like everything was fine. He didn't talk about what had happened, no doubt to preserve her dignity and give her time to get better.

For that, it was obvious that she needed to spend less time with him. That didn't mean she was avoiding him altogether. Just a little bit.

Y/N therefore went out with her other friends, those whom Karen did not know, far from the places frequented by the two avocatos at law.

But not too late, and never alone. The streets of Hell's Kitchen were unsafe at night. Lately, the papers have been saying that the Devil himself has been lurking around.

It was at one of these parties that she met Hughie.

A really charming boy. Funny. With a huge smile. Very kind and very patient.

She was sure of it, since he had had the bad idea to ask her how she was doing, and because of the alcohol she had had the good idea to answer him by talking about Matt for hours. Yet he hadn't looked offended. He had stayed, he had listened to her, and he had tried to comfort her like a true gentleman.

Then she had gone home, falling asleep like a rock, trying to forget all that.

The next day, she didn't think about it again, agreeing to go have a drink with the three musketeers of justice. They had won an important lawsuit, Y/N couldn't refuse to celebrate that with them.

To avoid too much pain, she sat as far away from Matt as possible. So in front of him. Which was actually worse, since she spent the evening admiring him, as he laughed at Foggy's jokes and flirted amicably with Karen.

Oh my God, she thought, do something to help me, anything.

           "Oh, Y/N ! It's really you, that's great !"

... My God, maybe not just anything !

           "...Hughie ! Hi !"

It wasn't that Y/N didn't want to see Hughie again. Hughie was truly a charming boy. Tall, thin, with curly hair. And really adorable.

She just didn't want to see him again while Matt was there.

The latter had stopped laughing as soon as Hughie had spoken, then he had taken on a dark look when the intruder had put his hand on Y/N's shoulder. Except he couldn't know that.  Well, he couldn't see that. Behind his glasses, Matt seemed to be staring at this hand, but it was not possible.

           "So, let me guess." Hughie continued with a big smile. "Karen, Foggy, and Matthew. Y/N told me a lot about you guys."

Oh, she wanted to die. Right here, right now.

           "Do you want to join us ?" Foggy offered, always ready to make new friends.

           "If you will have me, with pleasure !"

Hughie's hand moved from her shoulder to her thigh, from where it didn't move for the rest of the evening.

Everything went pretty well, Hughie being polite and funny, obviously quickly becoming accomplices with Karen and Foggy. Only Matt didn't seem to like him. He said nothing, as if he were sulking in his corner. Maybe he was intimidated.

The first time she had met him, he hadn't spoken much either. He probably had trouble with people he didn't know well.

But still, he really seemed to hate Hughie. And no one else seemed to notice.

When it was time to go home, Matt insisted on taking her back home, paying for the taxi. A loud growl seemed to come from him when Hughie kissed her goodbye on the cheek, after asking for her number. Weird.

But Matt didn't say anything in the car.

There were several dates with Hughie. Because, after all, why not ? He was really charming. Maybe she would manage to forget about Matt, or at least consider him just a friend, if she was dating someone. It wasn't very fair to Hughie though. She didn't want to play with him or hurt him.

Her friends seemed to imagine it was obviously the other way around, when Karen texted her to let her know that her 'boyfriend' was at the agency. Matt had summoned him. For an interrogation.

... What ?!

Y/N rushed to Nelson, Murdock and Page, where she found Hughie sitting on a small chair, across from Foggy and Matt. Well, Foggy looked a little sorry about the situation, like Karen who had opened the door for her.

Not Hughie.

He had a big beaming smile, as if everything was perfectly fine, and he was holding a bouquet of flowers. He offered it to her as soon as he saw her, continuing to smile cheerfully, and kissing her on the cheek. It was too early for more. Matt growled again.

           "What is happening ?" she asked.

           "Your friends wanted to make sure of my intentions towards you and to verify that I was not a psychopath who was going to harm you."

           "...Seriously ? Guys ?"

           "It's fine, Y/N. I think it's cute. They adore you and only want you to be happy. I hope I have convinced them by agreeing to come and answer their questions. Shall we have dinner now?"

           "No." Matt said, suddenly getting up from his seat. "Not... Not without a chaperone. I'm coming with you."

He went to his office to retrieve his coat and cane, giving Foggy and Karen time to apologize for him, as Y/N sighed, whispering in Hughie's ear that he was Catholic, and very complicated when it came to relationships.

           "Oh." just said Hughie. "This explains that."

Dinner was... awkward. Matt didn't say a word until dessert, just making sure Hughie was standing far enough away not to touch her.

Leaving the restaurant, Hughie tried to take her hand but Matt nearly knocked him down with his cane. He mumbled an apology, which he clearly didn't mean.

           "Okay, Matt." sighed Y/N who really couldn't take it anymore. "If you have something to say, just say it."

           "....Alright. Hugh, you're not good enough for her. You don't ask her permission to touch her before you do, you allow yourself to sneak in uninvited and you don't even know her favourite flowers. Plus you're making her terribly nervous, and not in a good way. I don't know why, but if I find out you hurt her, you'll pay for it. I can box, and I'm a very good lawyer. I hope you understand me."

Wow. Just, wow. Y/N didn't know what to say, so she said nothing, taking Hughie's arm to go home, leaving Matt alone in the middle of the sidewalk. Even if he couldn't see her disapproving look, he wasn't an idiot.

When they got to her place, Y/N was trying not to cry. She didn't really know why she wanted to cry, she felt several things at the same time. Mainly anger. But also sadness, and hope, which was not good at all. Why was Matt acting like this ?

Quickly she asked Hughie if he wanted to come in. He smiled before kissing her on the cheek and shaking his head.

           "It's nice, but it's not a good idea."

           "If it's because of what he said, you have nothing to fear, he..."

           "No. I mean...Y/N, I like you a lot. I really do. I kinda hoped you'd like me too, but I knew that wouldn't be possible. The first time, I just wanted to see the infamous Matt Murdock, if he was as good as you said. And it's true that he is hoooooot ! I wanted to tease him, you know ? But I also really enjoyed spending time with you. Except it's obvious that I haven't a chance against him. You still love him, and I'm pretty sure it's mutual. We can still be friends, if you're okay with that."

Double wow. What a shitty evening.

She found herself alone eating ice cream in front of the television, wondering what she had done to deserve this.

Well, at least Hughie had been honest. He had loved her, but he knew it wouldn't work between them, and she had promised not to play with him.

But Matt who sharing her feelings ? No, that was ridiculous. He was just acting like a stupid, overprotective friend. Maybe a little jealous, but it really wasn't fair of him.

Someone knocked on her door as she was going to bed. Who could it be at this hour ? Cautiously, Y/N opened the door, ready to scream and fight.

           "You shouldn't open without knowing who's there."

           "Matt... What do you want now ?"

           "I..." he stammered, a little embarrassed. "I came to apologize. And to make sure you were okay."

           "I'm fine."

They remained without saying anything for a long minute, before Y/N could no longer resist Matt's puppy look and offered him to come in.

The little asshole moved to the couch, subtly asking if Hughie was there, but sounding like he knew that he was not. He must have been so proud of his manly speech.

           "He... He didn't hurt you, did he ?" he asked, more serious.

           "No. He's a really good guy, you know ? If you give him a chance and get to know him."

           "No need. I told you, I know he makes you nervous, that's enough not to trust him."

           "Matt, it's you who make me nervous. I'm not nervous when I'm only with him."

The revelation seemed to hit Matt like a punch. He wasn't expecting this one.

He opened his mouth and closed it several times, not knowing what to say. He looked terribly sorry, he must have felt a little stupid.

And he was still so handsome. Shit.

Muttering an apology, he got up quickly and headed for the door to leave, but at the last moment, as he walked past her, Matt stopped, grimaced, and quickly turned to her before kissing her.

A gentle but passionate kiss. Wild but tender. Matt was a very good kisser.

Y/N responded almost immediately, running her hands around his neck, as he hugged her, sticking to her… before pushing her away abruptly.

           "No. You mustn't... I'm sorry, really sorry. It's too dangerous. I mustn't do this. I don't want anything bad to happen to you. You're so... You... I damn everything I touch and I don't want this for you. You're too important. Forgive me. Sorry."

Matt fled without giving her time to speak, running up the stairs.

Y/N was surprised. She was even more surprised when she noticed that he had forgotten his cane.

Okay... Weird ?

She would take it back to him tomorrow... hoping he made it home without hitting a wall or getting hit by a car. Or attacked by the Devil. But now time to go to bed after this long evening.

Why had he spoken of danger and damnation ? And Matt could do boxing ? And wait, up the stairs ? Up ?!

[theseerasures]

a yearning nation’s blueeyed pride

honestly there is just like. no point as of Witch (if not earlier) in thinking about Marrow and Winter as following along the same defection path, and downright facile to compare the two in terms of who is “closer” to defecting and therefore “less problematic” (even setting aside that making value judgments along those lines in fiction is...never that straightforward), when the narrative has emphasized REPEATEDLY how they are on entirely separate tracks in terms of character and role in the Atlas military.

seriously, it’s like saying “this orange is bad because you can’t eat the peel like you can eat an apple skin”

so like, yes, Marrow is the one who has verbally expressed his misgivings, and has clearly articulated scruples (as opposed to just the dial-up noise) and will blurt them out any second now as soon as he gets a word in edgewise. but also: Marrow HASN’T gotten a word in edgewise (except with Winter, fancy that), and has done approximately fuck all to actually subvert the system that he is growing to hate. both his theory and lack of praxis are tied into Marrow’s relatively low, overlooked position in the Atlas system, and feed into the fact that for Marrow the project of Atlas is not personal.

Marrow joined the military on ideological grounds. he clearly does want personal connection, but that has been denied him at every turn, largely by his teammates, largely by his partner, all of whom use him to enforce their own struggles with the clash between political duty and personal grief. he has been alienated by the system he upholds, which started even before we meet him. this makes it much harder for him to rebel in deed, because he doesn’t have a lot of power to begin with and he knows the system will not protect him if he does; at the same time, that relative powerlessness and isolation keeps his investment in Atlas abstract, uncomplicated, and much easier to dispel. Marrow is still with Atlas because he has a job to do, because it’s his duty, because he is still clinging to the Atlas military’s illusory altruism. he wants Penny to come with them so she can save Atlas. his protestations at seeing Team FNKI, that they are “just kids,” comes from the belief that it is categorically wrong to send children into battle. what is keeping Marrow from defecting is belief, and once the belief is shattered--like, say, when his boss’ new ingenious plan is to Nuke the Poors--there is nothing keeping him around.

and once his path is set he will not waver, because Atlas, by design, has no hold on him materially or personally (outside of his own life, which he was already happy to dedicate to a cause). Marrow then, is the limit case of Atlas being hoist with its own petard: an exemplar for how it gives its people nothing while demanding everything, but also an exemplar for how quickly the entire system folds in on itself when the veil is lifted. when Marrow defects (and it IS when) it will represent Atlas as a whole defecting from itself, even if we don’t see it visually--from the civilians, to the enlisted soldiers, to perhaps even members of Marrow’s own team.

NONE of the things i just mentioned really apply to Winter, because there is nothing about Atlas that is not personal for Winter.

i have no doubt that Winter is in some ways invested in same abstract principles that swayed Marrow, but that is constantly overridden by the fact that Winter has family at all sides of this, even before everything fell to shit, and the narrative will not stop reminding her.

“what about your sister?” “would you say the same thing if it was your sister inside?” her father was gunning for a seat on the Council. the man who took her in is essentially Head of State. Penny has made herself Public Enemy Number One, and Weiss is actively abetting her. even Whitley has now thrown himself into the fray, unbeknownst to her. and another person might be better at compartmentalizing all this the way Winter clearly wants to, and stick to the party line, but Winter cannot, because the more i watch her the more i’m convinced that the current crisis in Atlas is just a microcosm of the real issue, which is to say: everything is personal in Atlas for Winter, because everything is personal for Winter.

at a moment-to-moment level, and especially when backed into a corner, Winter defaults not to ideology but her tightly coiled lattice of personal relationships. and this makes perfect sense, because Winter grew up in a household where she had to perpetually crisis respond, and then she never stopped. Marrow does what he does because he believes in the dream, in making the world a better place, and therefore it is more difficult in some respects for him to defect, because it involves taking a long hard look at and then rejecting the structures he bought into and made himself complicit in. once lines are crossed and he DOES do that, though, he’s home free. for Winter, there are no lines to cross, because all Winter wants in the end is to throw her arms around everyone she cares about and drag them to safety. to keep them there, closely held, where she can see them and make sure that they stay safe.

but what’s tricky about Winter--what’s fascinating to me, what Jacques tried to beat out of her, what James alternately capitalizes on and tries to quash, what she resents about herself--is that in times of crisis (which for Winter is again ALL THE TIME), “everyone she cares about” becomes everyone, so that suddenly she takes a shine to the General’s war machine, so that she’s risking her life to give Penny and Fria a few more seconds of time, so that she’s stepping in front of Elm’s incoming fist, so that she’s letting JYR go rescue Oscar. Marrow has ideals he values, but at her core Winter has nothing but the people, who are real the moment she sees and feels them--real enough to defend, or defend against.

Winter jealously protects her web of people, but that web will also spiral out to infinity if she lets it--so she doesn’t. she has adamantly refused to move out of the mode where she lives present-by-present, only reacting to what is right in front of her, what she has been told, weighing her own life against the people who are closest, and no more. this is unquestionably a trauma response, but it’s also reinforced by 1) her choice to become a career soldier, and 2) the fact that Winter actually HAS quite a bit of power, and she knows that. but she has never trusted herself with any of it, largely because her hypervigilant response to situations has only ever been chastised instead of rehabilitated. Winter knows the weight of her name and her position, but she constantly tries to ignore it, or run away from it, so that she is only ever the heiress, the second-in-command, and never the Queen. she cannot be a leader until she is Good (that is to say, perfect and rational), so she tries to obliterate her power the same time she obliterates that pesky personhood: remaining still for as long as possible, avoiding situations that she knows will prompt action and choice, and when absolutely pushed to think through her power, moving the pieces around with extreme caution, hoping that the world won’t be burnt black by it.

Marrow and Winter are fundamentally at opposing ends of the personal-political bleed, and the story could NOT telegraph it any more clearly than their conversation in Witch, where Marrow makes a personal plea to Winter so that she can make a call far beyond just that, and she refutes him, by reminding him of his obligation to Atlas in the form of impersonal duty.

i’ll conclude by pointing out that there is something very interesting happening with Winter right now, that exceeds her power in-universe. because even as a Schnee, as Ironwood’s protege, what Winter can do is limited (partly because she limits herself), except for how the story has resolutely centered her actions and MADE them significant. in the course of this war Winter has let herself make exactly two choices--both of them noninterventionist, easily justifiable, and not meant to take any ideological stand--and they ended up altering the entire fabric of the war with Salem. all because she loved her sisters more than her duty. all because she was shown a slim chance to save the kingdom and a fourteen-year-old boy, and she thought just for an instant, what’s the harm

(and James Ironwood will never know. that even with his plan, his bomb, all his ships, all his soldiers...he was no match for her. his loyal lieutenant. the only child he will ever have, who has only ever called him “sir.”)

it is not about what Winter COULD have chosen in those moments, if she had the ability to stop Penny and Weiss from leaving, if JYR were even Oscar’s rescuers, in the conventional sense. it is about the fact that she DID make those choices, and the story has made them reverberate, in spite of the fact that she did not mean for them to. Marrow’s story is about being neglected and overlooked by the system, the moment of recognition that it needs you more than you need it, that there are so many more of you, and together you can stop chasing the dream and make your own. Winter’s story cleaves to the heart of not just Atlas, but the RWBY monomyth, which goes something like: stars are like us. the world was created because two brothers could not get along, and sundered because a woman could not cope with her grief. just because you move closer to the elite, to the center, to the top, to the sublime, it does not mean that you move farther from the fallible. we are all, at our deepest layer, people.

but the world does not tremble any less for it.

[raamyun-and-rambles]

Musings of an Alchemist’s Lover

Fandom: Genshin Impact Pairing: Albedo x Reader Summary:  Maybe you had a third eye somewhere you didn't know of, a horn that's grown out of you without you noticing or a tail that flicks behind you whenever you weren't looking. Whatever it was, certainly there had to be something noticeably different about you that attracted the alchemist's attention and your curiosity allowed your mind to wander.

-----------

Holding Albedo's attention for more than a few seconds was no easy feat.

Unless it was a topic that tickled his fancy or something of utmost urgence, Albedo would most likely only regard the unfortunate soul with a disgruntled hum, tuning out most of their words until he manages to somewhat catch onto the main gist of their spiel. He doesn't even do anything to hide his disinterest, eyes immediately finding purchase on anything else but the speaker in front of them, musing theories to himself that he'd sometimes let slip into a whisper. This certain trait of his has definitely gotten him into trouble more than a couple of times but Albedo could hardly care. Surely discovering the world's secrets is more important than helping the Knights look for Margaret's lost cat for the umpteenth now right?

Despite being Mondstadt's favorite person and with a reputation that precedes him, Albedo was surprisingly anti-social. He had little to no regards for social interaction and this is further proved when he made himself a makeshift laboratory in one of Dragonspine's cave.

It was quiet, deserted and had almost everything he needed for his studies. If he ever ran out of supplies then he'd be able to call for either Sucrose or Timaeus - or go down the mountain himself to make sure he'll stock up with more than the amount he needs so he can hole himself up for a couple of weeks on end. The scenery was an added bonus, if the amount of sketches he's made was anything to go by, it was safe to say that Albedo liked it as well. Thick snow carpeted the floor as far as the eye can go and streams glimmered under the light of the morning sun. The air was crisp and chilly, it nipped at his nose and made his cheeks burn red, but his cave offered a comforting warmth once he's sank in front of the hearth, nursing a cup of tea or hot chocolate.

Albedo was many things, that much you could tell.

A genius, an alchemical prodigy, a leader, a brother - and most surprisingly, even to yourself - your lover.

To be fairly honest you weren't entirely sure what it was that attracted the Chief Alchemist of the Knights to your side. You were hardly anyone special after all, simply just one of Lisa's many acquaintances who spends one too many hours in the library. You were of average height and build, with a face that you could only describe as forgettable. Neither you nor your parents were well-known within the walls of the city of freedom and you lived a mostly mundane routinary life as a baker until Klee had bounded into your humble store one rainy evening, soaked to the bone and sneezing from the cold. The poor thing was shivering and had asked to take shelter from the pouring rain. You didn't have the heart to turn her away and you were more than just a little familiar about the stories of Mond's most adorable but destructive spark knight. You allowed her into your home, giving her a fresh towel to pat herself dry and a cup of hot milk and freshly baked cookies. The child bounced in glee, thanking you and happily accepting the treats with a smile that could part the skies to make way for the rays of sun. You allowed her to phone her guardian after she had finished eating and you kept her company throughout the entire wait. You turned your attention away from Klee the moment the store bell rang and your (e/c) eyes had immediately met with bright turquoise irises.

"Thank you for taking care of her." Albedo said as he knelt down to assist Klee with wearing her infamous bright red coat and adjusted her mushroom hat so it sat snugly atop her head.

"It's no problem at all, she was lovely company. I'd be delighted to have her around again every once in a while." You chuckled, remembering how she had praised the treats you made for her.

"Albedo onii-chan Albedo onii-chan!" The spark knight excitedly exclaimed, tugging on his hand with each call of his name. "______ makes the best sweets! Her cookies are really good and the bread she makes are really fluffy! She let me help her mix the dough earlier and-"

"How about you tell me all about it when we get home Klee? It's late and I'm sure ______ has to close up shop soon."

Klee deflated a bit but was quick to understand, she turned to you immediately after and flashed you another bright smile.

"Thank you for today ______ nee-chan, Klee will come back to visit another time!"

You smiled at her enthusiasm and you couldn't resist the urge to pat her on the head.

"I'll be waiting for you here then."

Albedo stood up after the exchange and finally regarded you with his attention. "We'll be off then, have a lovely evening miss ______."

"And to you too sir Kreideprinz."

You watch them walk off down the cobbled street, Klee's joyous laughter and excited chatter filling the air despite the pattering of rain against your roof. They took a turn around the corner and disappeared from your view. A small smile tugs on your features and you immediately set to work with locking up the store for the night.

Klee had started coming over more often after that night, mostly dropping by before you close while she waited for Albedo to finish work. It was no surprise that Klee often talked fondly about her big brother, praising him and telling you stories you haven't heard from any of the other residents of Mond while you prepared for tomorrow's next batch of goods. Albedo seemed like a very busy man from the way Klee tells her stories but he always seemed to make time to pick her up, oftentimes buying some bread and sweets before leaving.

It surprised you a little when he admitted he enjoyed having something sweet while he worked. Albedo insisted that it was because it gave him a considerable boost of energy but a part of you thinks it could just be because he had a sweet tooth he just wasn't aware of.

Needless to say it was due to that chance encounter with Klee that had allowed you to meet the chief alchemist himself and your relationship had only continued to bloom from there.

He was - in simple terms - wonderful.

An eccentric, true, but wonderful nonetheless and you never would have guessed that you'd ever end up as his lover nor did you ever imagine you'd be holding him in your arms, sleep slowly overtaking him as you gently ran your fingers through soft platinum locks - much like the lazy morning you were both sharing right now.

Albedo had come home at almost 3 in the morning the other night, with a throbbing headache and eyes that almost refused to open from drowse. He had pulled all-nighters for several days now, refusing to leave his lab for even a moment as he fully threw himself into his work. Nothing could ever stop him when he was in such a state, filled with elation at the mere prospect of a new discovery. It was a side of him that you admired as much as you found it problematic, it was amazing how he could wholly dedicate all his time, effort and energy towards his research but it was a definitely a point of worry that he'd also forget how to take care of himself. The alchemist immediately headed to your shared bedroom, dragging his feet across the floor while he shed himself of his coat, letting out a long yawn before heaving himself onto the mattress' soft comfort. You stirred from your sleep as the bed dipped and knowing it couldn't possibly be anyone else other than Albedo, you immediately rolled to your side and wrapped your arms around his middle, nuzzling into his warmth as his arms found themselves around you to return your embrace. There was an exchange of sleepy mumbles before you both immediately fell back into sleep.

You smile a little bit at the memory, humming softly as you continue to softly card your fingers through his hair. It was more than just a little past the time you both usually woke, but you'll allow it for now. Surely the people could wait a couple hours more for their morning bread and the knights can surely make do without the Chief Alchemist for a moment longer. So long as Albedo was getting the rest he needed you figured a lazy morning in would be alright every once in a while especially after the sleepless hectic nights he had the past few days. The peaceful expression on his face immediately filled you with relief.

"Albedo?" You whispered, afraid you'd break the serenity of the morning.

The alchemist responded with a sleepy hum, lifting his head so he could look at you as his long lashes fluttered open.

A smile tugged at your lips at his sleepy visage before you gently pressed a kiss on his forehead.

"I love you."

He gives you a sleepy smile of his own, heart swelling at the affection before nuzzling back into the crook of your neck.

"I love you too."

His lips brushed against your pulse as he spoke and his breath tickled against your skin, feeling a little playful, you then decided to ask.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"But why?"

A question you've always been meaning to ask, brought about by a sudden spur of confidence.

"Because meine liebe," Albedo starts, once again pulling himself away from your warmth to hold you with his gaze - you once again think to yourself that his eyes has the most beautiful shade of green - "I love you simply because you are you."

"You're certain it's not because I have a third eye hidden away somewhere or some freaky mutation I somehow have no knowledge of?"

Albedo chuckled lightly.

"Certainly not love, and I'm sure if you do I wouldn't be the only one to take notice of it."

You hum, convinced and resumed patting his hair.

The alchemist assumed his earlier position and sank further into your embrace.

"Besides," he murmured, sleep lacing his words,

.

.

.

"I think you're wonderful just the way you are."

[queerautism]

Queen & Uni are currently co fronting with me just bc of the movie btw we are on our sixth watch now this week. They’re focusing on the movie (or trying to while I write all these asks) while I’m scrolling on tumblr and its sooo hard because every time i need to look at what im typing they just go “nope”.

Tryna word stuff a bit easier but they keep deciding words i use suck. I cant think right now because the movie is now distracting me as well but (What are words Help) Queen’s happy that you would like a lego set of her basically ? Would say something about how Uni is but shes just calling herself badass

Took a long time just to write this somehow 😭 We’ve also ended up making a (wip) crossover of our sources (started working on it today :D my source is sometimes considered problematic to people and thats why I’ve been talking about them and not me more if thats understandable)

-Hivemind (feel like this fits a little better)

Hivemind!! That's rly cool!!! And i feel that haha its a bit wacky when different folks wanna do different stuff

That lego set has greeeat colours its so pretty n great price for the number of pieces n designss

[cosmiccandydreamer]

Stability Chapter 14

*****The ending to Stability is here! Stay tuned for the ending in the finale coming "Tranquility" WARNING THIS CHAPTER DEALS WITH CHILD LOSS. Sorry if it's a spoiler, but I wanted to warn y'all. *******

"Wake the fuck up, you piece of shit!" Otis was jerked awake by the loud sound of Wydell screaming in his face and kicking the foundation under him. He adjusted his eyes and found to his horror and he was tied to a chair. They were back at the house in Ruggsville. Looking to his side, he saw his sister and Spaulding in the same situation. Wydell backed away from him, taking a massive swig from his whisky bottle before slamming it back down on the table.

The trio was tried on chairs and shown other pictures of the victims that they had recovered. This was a small amount that you could not shove in the trunk of your car as evidence. Wydell was in a drunken haze and rage. Vengeance had overtaken him; the idea that he was the hand of God sent here to cleanse the earth has consumed him. He held up a picture in front of Baby's face asking her if she remembers the girl in the picture; he then turns to show Otis, "not so attractive after we pulled her out of your little torture shack.” Otis laughed darkly " I tried that bitch to my bed for a month, busted her wide open.”

Wydell spits on the ground next to him in disgust. "Well, he's a little memento for your time together" " that bitch was mine," Baby spat out, "stupid whore" Wydell suddenly grabbed the staple gun he had placed on the floor next to the table and, to Otis and Spalding's horror, stapled it to Baby's stomach. The men exchanged looks of anger, panic, and worry. The love for their daughter and sister and the fact they were helpless to her pain was torture in itself. "Which one did you say you busted open again? This one, right?!" Wydell then grabbed the second photo stapling it to Otis's chest. The sharp pain shot thru him, and he grew angrier.

"Alright, alright, now that I got everyone's attention, I have one more picture to show y'all, and now I'ma need y'all to make sure you take a good look, and I mean a good look…" he took another swig off his whiskey and reached down to grab another picture. "Now I've been looking for this little lady, and now I hear she goes by the name Kitty driftwood, which is a dumbass name if you ask me, but her government name is ( y/n y/last name )."

He held up a picture of you taken at the hotel as you were loading up the car. Otis froze in his seat, and his palms become sweaty and hot. He swallowed as his throat became tight; you looked scared in the picture.. lost and alone. He did this to you, and he made you go on without him; he thought it was the right thing to do now, he's not sure. "Ringing any bells for all of you? Hmm"? Wydell asked, holding your picture in front of Baby and Spaulding. "I've never seen that bitch before," Baby spat. "I don't know who she is.” " What about you, Otis? She seems to be going by your last name.. any idea about why that would be?" Otis silently cursed you for being so casual with his last name. He was glad you didn't use your real name, but any association with them was problematic. "She might have been some Stockholm syndrome bitch who got away, I don't fucking know," Otis replied, trying to steady in his voice.. "you expect me to remember every whore that comes thru the door," he scoffed. Wydell chuckled. "I would expect you to remember your wife, Otis" Otis straightened himself a bit more, looking at Wydell in the eyes but not responding. His heart was racing now.. how much did he know about you.. "now see, at first, I thought she was just some poor soul that got turned around and was lucky enough to escape your freak show. That was until my men started to see her more and more with you clowns. And one of the men overhead her introduced herself as Kitty driftwood. I did some digging, and that's not who she is at all. She's the only survivor of the San Diego massacre. You may not remember it's been a long time, but she seems to have started a life of some sort out here after the death of her family." Wydell shifted through the pictures clicking his tongue. Otis knew about your past; he got curious one day and dug into your public records years ago. He wanted to see if anyone besides your father would come looking for you if you were to join the family. He realized you didn't remember everything that had happened back then and didn't want to bring up those memories for you.

"Why are you telling us all this?" Spalding asked, "what you do with her? What are you going to do with us? Stop playing these games, goddammit!". "I'm so glad you asked," Wydell replied, taking another drink. "so when I got word of a girl matching this description, I had my men trail her; I met up with them close to the Mexican border and decided to go check out if this was the same Lil lady. Now I expected her to be a shit ball bag of ugly in person, if I’m honest. I mean running around you all one can only expect," he chuckled " So you can imagine my surprise when I pulled over her car and saw she was a pretty little thing," he whistles " I thought about taking her out of the car and doing a little strip search myself." Otis felt his face get hot; he was becoming angrier than he's ever been. He twisted his hands in the bound rope on the chair; his breathing became more erratic. "Oh, you don't like that, huh? The idea of someone taking your woman and just having their way with her? Ironic isn't it, so I pull up, and we have a little chat. I ask her to get out of the vehicle". Baby looked over at her and saw his eyes had become dilated with rage. "You better not of hurt my sister," she said, her own eyes stinging with the tears that started to fall, "you son of a bitch".

"Now see what I did here," Wydell said, pulling up the chair closer to Baby while she whined and tried to look away from him. Otis just stared at him, his rage building and building.. he wasn't one to get anxious, but this was causing him extreme anxiety. "I prayed, I asked God to tell me what to do next because when I saw her beautiful (y/e/c) with sadness and fear, I felt I had a choice to make, Well I decided to give her a chance to come to the righteous side of glory with God. so I asked her to step out of the car, she did slowly with her arms up as I asked. She looked warm in the face and asked if she was alright; she said she was fine, just the heat was getting to her and her baby.” “Baby? Is she with a child? Oh my god, OTIS!” Baby yelled, looking over at her brother and father. “Otis, did you hear? You’re going to be a daddy!” a giant smile appeared on her face despite the situation they were in. A child, what a miracle. Otis was quiet, and his expression blank; a baby? No wonder she was so sick, no wonder she looks so worried and so scared. He finally spoke with a calm and collected tone, “where are she and my child?”. He looked at Wydell in the eyes and waited for an answer.

He took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it before answering, blowing smoke in their faces.” when I saw she was with child, I knew it was your Otis, I saw it in her eyes when she looked at the picture I held up of you. This means this was a 50/50 chance of being a miracle baby, a child of God, or a spawn of the devil. I decided to give Mrs. driftwood a chance to renounce her sinful ways with your freak show; tell me everything I want to know, and I would provide safe passage for her and her unborn child.

"I'm not going to ask you again where she is." Otis said his patients running thin "where the hell is my wife and my child?"

"I'm the one telling the story here, so I'm going to need you to be patient," Wydell said. "She stood there in the blistering heat next to her car, her hands up in the air. I told her to relax, put him down by her side, and we're just going to have a chat. I couldn't get over how beautiful she was. I had it in my right mind to take her then in there just like you had taken all those innocent women at your disposal."

Otis flinched in his chair, attempting to reach towards the sheriff. "I swear to satan if you touched her"

"Or what?" Wydell laughed, "You're not in the position to make any threats but calm down. I didn't feed my devilish temptations." He took another drag of the cigarette. "No, what I did was I told her that at this very moment, the compound where your merry band of freaks was hiding was being raided and that there was no way out of this. I knew who she was. I knew what she'd been through, and I told her that she doesn't want a life where she's just running cooperate with us, and we'll see what we can do for her. The moment I looked into her eyes, I knew she was not going to give you freaks up. She shook her head. I don't know what you're talking about and bit her lower lip. I decided at that moment that I was going to leave it up to God. I asked her to turn around and put her hands on the car. She did, then I pulled my knife." He pulled out a giant hunting knife and laid it on the table. The trio didn't speak collectively, waiting for the following words out of his mouth. All three of them were frozen in fear. They all loved you and felt powerless in the situation for themselves and what possibly may come next. "See, I walked up to her, and I said that this seed you're carrying now if it's the spawn of the devil you know I can't allow that to pollute this world any further, but this could also be one of God's children who am I to make that decision? And she looked back at me and asked what I mean, And so I got my knife, And I showed it to her, and I said, you know whatever happens next is up to God, and I stabbed her in the stomach. " As soon as those words left his mouth, Baby started to scream, "liar, you didn't lie you wouldn't stab a pregnant woman, lies you're just trying to break us, Otis doesn’t listen he's lying" Spalding spat a bunch of insults at the sheriff. Otis remained catatonic in his rage. He was so angry that he couldn't speak. He couldn't move. He could barely breathe.

The sheriff then pulled out a photo and said, "now I'm not saying I killed her, and I'm not saying it killed the baby. All I'm saying is I used my hand to be an instrument of God, and if God wanted the baby to survive, then that means it was a child of God. If it passed away well, then it was the spawn of Satan; either way, that is what happened" He slowly slid a photo of you on the ground clenching your bleeding stomach. "You should have seen the surprise on her face when I put out the Polaroid and snapped the photo of her." Baby cried and screamed; giant tears were falling from her beautiful blue eyes, Spalding still angry, throwing insults at the sheriff. Otis finally looked up, and in the most profound, most demonic voice anyone had ever heard, he quietly said, "I will watch you die. I will tear your soul apart.” Wydell stood up and grabbed a large nail from the table. “Don’t know how you’re gonna do that with your hands nailed down!” suddenly, he slammed the nails into his hands, nailing him to the table. He screamed in horror and agony at what had just taken place. Baby looked over to her brother, feeling helpless to his pain, when suddenly she felt her ties being loosened and she was free, “ you’re free to go, Babygirl, now run along run!!!!”. Wydell screamed in her face laughing; she took off toward the door; she didn’t need to be told twice.

As she ran towards what she thought was freedom, he started to pour gasoline all over the house, engulfing the once wonderful home that you all shared. As the flames lifted around them, the two men struggled to get free. The sheriff went after her, shooting into the air and taunting her as he chased her. One of the bullets hitting her in the leg and causing her to fall, but just as he thought he would have her meet her maker, tiny appeared, saving the day by breaking his neck. If it weren’t for this gentle giant, everyone would have perished in the fire. He was able to save everyone. Unfortunately, he chose not to come with the trio.

Otis took off towards the highway. He knew in his heart that you weren't dead. He would have felt it. Your connection was too strong but still, in the back of his mind, what if you weren't what he would do? He knew that he would set the world on fire that much would be for sure, but he could not fathom a reality with you, not by his side. He drove fast and faster towards your designated meet point. Nothing could stop him now except for the mountain of the police officers blocking the highway entrance. He looked over at the trio, and with a collective nod, they raced toward the police guns blazing. They had come this far, and nothing would stop them. Nothing would keep Otis from you; he pictured your face in his mind as he drove, the smell of your shampoo when he buried his face in your hair, the sound of your laugh. He had to try and get to you. There was a rain of gunfire that engulfed the vehicle. They didn't get far. Eventually, they all were stopped from the blood loss and the bullet holes they were taken to the hospital. He had failed you again.

Otis is right, though. You survived the encounter; what the sheriff didn't know was the ritual, The ritual that you all had done every Halloween, the ritual that you sacrificed souls so you could live on and become immortal through luck. This meant that if you were faced with a situation such as this, the universe would conspire to assist you all. Unfortunately, you were not pregnant during your last ritual. As you clenched your bleeding stomach, you pulled yourself into the vehicle. You were able to pull yourself into the vehicle and speed off as soon as you saw Wydell in the distance. You drove and drove until eventually, your vision got blurry, and you passed out. Somehow your car has come to a stop and ended up in a small town just on the Mexican border. A sweet couple pulled you out of the car and patched you up. The idea that you lost your child destroyed you and broke your heart. The blood loss was too much, and you miscarried. Pulling yourself together, you searched through your items, found one of your fake IDs, and headed toward Mexico, not before stopping into Brownsville to check and see if a particular person was still here.

[theunchainedmelody]

Vanessa x Yami One-Shot

So... I got sick and tired of the lack of attention this rare pair gets so I wrote a one-shot for it. WARNING: This Story is VERY, VERY ADULT AND LEMONY. Also, it’s probably not the most feministic writing. So I apologize if any of it offends people as I was writing it for myself and it’s not my intention to be problematic. If you want to support me, leave a comment here or leave a review at https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13905101/1/Witch-s-Lust-The-Seduction-of-Captain-Yami

"Witch's Lust" The Seduction of Captain Yami

The rose-haired witch was staring intently at a bottle of wine standing criminally unopened in front of her. As she wondered whether to uncork it, she swirled around her wine glass, of which, now only a small burgundy pool at the glasses' bottom remained. Her velvet glove slid around the glass's stem as her mind drifted off. Vanessa Enoteca had been drunk for most of the day and was now suffering through the remnants of a hangover. She rested in her lingerie, happily presenting to the men in the room as she lay sprawled out on a sofa in the main room. Here, most of her squad was gathered, engaging in all sorts of merrymaking and violent duels. This company was spread out through a fireplace-lit chamber filled with sofas, dining tables, and tapestries.

The sound of Magna and Luck engaged in a magical battle was ringing in her ears. It was almost as loud as their voices as they quarreled. Vanessa let out a sigh as she half-regretted her choice to drink so early in the day. Just this once, perhaps she should have taken her day off to go and meet some dreamy man. Yet in the end, it was easier to stay here and lazily lounge about the mansion. That was when she heard her beloved captain come marching into the main room. The stomping of his boots alerted her to his presence as he marched in with his usual swagger. Her eyes wandered to Captain Yami as he looked over the Black Bulls. For some reason, she felt a bit pained seeing him. It was not as if she adored him any less, but from what she had gathered, he had met with the Blue Rose's captain Charlotte several times recently for some sort of secret missions. As Charlotte's crush on him was obvious, the entire situation made Vanessa uncomfortable. She was not so naïve as to be clueless about why she felt this way. She had a crush on him herself, perhaps even something akin to love. Unfortunately, Vanessa was too lazy to do anything about it. She sometimes casually flirted with Captain Yami or even the other men in the Black Bulls. With Captain Yami, it had never led anywhere as he never seemed to care about her playful confessions or flirtations.

In any case, her drunken gaze ate the eye candy in front of her. Yami was so incredibly handsome it should have been illegal. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with messy black hair, a bit of stubble, and a cigarette in his mouth. His rugged, virile masculinity was always pouring out, most evident in how his muscular pecs looked painted on upon his sleeveless white shirt. This was to say nothing about his incredible height, his muscular shoulders and biceps, those veiny forearms, and his handsome, rugged face. His sexiness further oozed out in how he carried himself, with a macho, laid-back attitude containing a sharp, fighting spirit. She certainly wasn't the first woman to think so about him and she doubted she was the last.

She heard Yami say in his deep baritone, "Alright. Listen up. We've got a mission. Some new bandit gang has been assaulting one of the big-time merchants and the nobles want us for an armed guard. I'm sending two of you out on this."

Once the members began to scramble for his attention as they always did, Vanessa found herself unable to understand a single sentence between them. Everyone was raising their hands frantically and shouting in unison. It served to heighten the sharp pain from her hangover. She moved over to the table with a bottle in hand, wanting to sit closer to the captain in case he chose her for this mission. However, she had an intuitive feeling he wasn't going to. For some reason, Vanessa felt less playful and jubilee than she would have expected. After all, she was infamous for being a lighthearted party girl, especially after drinking down a few glasses of wine.

Magna said, "Come on, Captain! I'm the man for the job. I haven't busted skulls in ages"

Yami said to Magna, "No way. You hit the last merchant we guarded over the head when he insulted you!"

When Finral offered his services for the chance to speak to the female merchants, the Captain answered with, "No way. If you're just going to flirt with the female merchants, you might as well stay home then."

It was the same response for Asta, Charmy, and Grey. He then looked over to Vanessa, sitting attentively at the table beside him. She pointed to herself with a rather humble look, the captain being the only man she'd ever act so meek around.

She said quietly, "I suppose the same goes for me since I'm always drunk?"

Yami's arms crossed and he said, "You're no use to us when you're all tipsy."

Vanessa's eyes lowered and she said, "Ah. I'm very sorry, boss."

Like all the Black Bulls, she admired him and fought for his affection. Still, she felt a bit sadder at his remark than she usually would. What had gotten into her?

That was when her Captain added, "But when you're sober, I'd say the opposite. You tend to have a level head. You're the most reliable one here."

His praise warmed her heart. She couldn't help but blush and beam happily up at him.

"Ah. Thank you, Captain" she said.

Despite this compliment, Yami didn't pick her on account of her hangover. Instead, he opted to send Noelle and Gordon on the uneventful mission.

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One month later….

Vanessa, Asta, Charmy, and Yami were all out on yet another mission. It was a busy week for the Black Bulls. Vanessa found herself hoping she would get a star accolade if she performed well enough. It wasn't like her to much care for such things but lately, Asta had been something of a motivation for her, as he was for all the Black Bulls. As Asta and Charmy were asleep in the spacious squad tent, Vanessa found herself alone with Captain Yami. It was rare to have this man alone to herself like this, and so she was quite enjoying it. The pink-haired witch felt more like herself tonight, perhaps thrilled because she got picked to go with Yami on missions several times lately. She had been able to show off her red thread of fate and the samurai even complimented her!

At the moment, Vanessa was drinking down more alcohol as Yami sat on a separate log to her left while smoking a fresh cigarette. She smacked her lips happily as she finished a sip of booze. She was a bit tipsy, albeit not fully inebriated, as they were still on a mission, and she needed to stay alert.

Yami said quietly, "Oi. Don't get drunk now."

"Aye aye, Captain," she said with a playful salute.

Vanessa showed her obedience by corking up the bottle. That was when she saw Yami gazing up at the starry sky, admiring the dazzling canvas of stars, planets, and galaxies that enveloped the heavens above them. She smiled at seeing the captain unusually lost in thought. Normally, he didn't seem to be thinking of much at all. She didn't consider him stupid, but he was a simple, honest individual. Vanessa didn't dislike that in a man. Yami was her type after all. Perhaps it was because he was her first encounter with a man, but he remained the golden standard. Just like back then, she continued to love his broad manly frame. She remembered the day he broke into her birdcage. It stirred something within her when she had him so close to her, an overdue awakening for her as a heterosexual woman. And now, she had Captain Yami to compare every other man to in her endeavors. She was happy to sleep with attractive gentlemen now and then, whether they be pretty boys or hunks, but the captain would always be the prize.

Vanessa giggled a bit as she remembered that nostalgic first meeting. She thought of it often, ever since her last encounter with the Witch Queen. That destined day, Yami showed her she could walk on her own two feet. What Vanessa now valued above all else was freedom. The freedom to enjoy all the pleasures she desired. The freedom to fight for her friends. The freedom to grow stronger. The freedom to seek a happy ending and rewrite her fate. In the end, she always did what she wanted. Even her loyalty to the Black Bulls was something she had chosen willingly. Her loyalty to this man was entirely her choice.

Now, as Vanessa looked over to Yami, she realized how comfortable she felt around him. Even so, this was not to say he didn't get her heart racing the closer he was to her face. She often found her heart beating madly when he was beside her. However, as he blew out a puff of smoke and paid her no attention, that was when it struck her…. the danger of being so casual with the captain. Likely, Yami saw Vanessa as no more than a little sister. Her heart raced when around him, but his heart did not race when around her. It was then that an even more disconcerting thought entered her mind.

In that moment, what WAS he thinking about?

Perhaps…

Perhaps he was thinking of another woman…

The witch shook away the infantile thought. Whether he was thinking of Charlotte or some other inane topic, one thing was for certain: Vanessa was not on his mind. Never once, had he showed an ounce of attraction or interest in her. The witch's eyes became sad. Her eyes darted over to the far-off tents. They were still zipped closed, meaning it was unlikely anyone would hear what she wished to ask him. And so, Vanessa finally decided to ask him the million-dollar question.

"Hey Captain, I heard you've been doing missions with the Blue Rose's captain. You're not getting a crush on her, are you? Those Blue Roses don't seem friendly to men. Haha."

Yami stared at her unamused and she regretted her lighthearted jabs. Of course, she was prying for information but this all left her feeling like an idiot.

At last, Yami asked, "Hmmm? Who told you that?"

Vanessa jabbed further and said, "I heard from a little birdie that you said she and you can get married when you are both old and alone. I'm so jealous. Charlotte's a lucky lady. Fufufu."

Yami again stared at her blankly, not flustered in the least.

He said, "I was mostly joking. Even if she has a crush, she doesn't say much."

Vanessa felt a bit of relief at his responses, but they were still far too ambiguous. She decided she needed to be absolutely sure of the situation. As such, she decided to risk her own attempts to woo him by saying, "Is that so? I thought she was your type. You like strong women and she's a captain. And she's ranked first in looks according to the Magic Knight's survey. But I suppose I was mistaken. You're such a hard man to read. Heh heh."

Propping up Charlotte hurt terribly, but Vanessa had to bear with it.

Yami rubbed the back of his thick, dark hair a bit awkwardly and said, "I'm not sure what to say. I haven't thought about any of that seriously. I'm not looking to date her or something. My love is battle, booze, and sword. And I'm busy looking after you brats."

He flashed a cheeky smile at her. Vanessa couldn't help but smile in response. He hadn't said he was uninterested in Charlotte, but it seemed that interest wasn't serious. And if it was, he wasn't going to make any moves within the next century or so. She decided to not pry further lest she expose her jealousy. Instead, she put a gloved hand to her cheek and smiled lazily. Honestly, she was impressed she had managed to get him to speak so much about his emotions and thoughts. Yami rarely opened up about anything. It seemed there was some depth to him he was hiding, much as she had suspected for many a years. Just as she was ready to return to sipping her glass of wine, Captain Yami added one last comment that would shatter everything.

"And besides," said Yami, "I don't know what's up with this bullshit survey you're talking about, but I honestly figured you'd be ranked first. Men are always looking at you starry-eyed, right?"

Suddenly, her cheeks were burning red. He had never complimented her looks before, even if his wording was a bit indirect. Again, she decided to test the boundaries of their relationship to see if she could hear the words she wanted so desperately for him to say.

"Oh?" asked Vanessa playfully, "Captain, you're making me blush. But there's no need to try and cheer me up. I placed fourth. I couldn't be happier."

She wasn't.

Vanessa had placed fourth because she was lacking in feminine charms, appeal, and a sense of propriety. This was not to say she was terribly insecure about it. She was far from desperate for male validation, even if she enjoyed the attention. Even Yami's affection was something she could live without. But right now, she started to doubt that last part. It was frustrating to know she didn't have a chance in winning him over. The sinful witch's advances on the captain couldn't compete with what a pure maiden like Charlotte could offer him. Her love was inferior and she was undesirable as a romantic partner. Men were happy to bed her, but she'd never gotten a confession in her life. And so, in this moment, she simply waited for the captain to shoot her down. It wouldn't be the first time he ignored her flirtations. It was her destiny to lose in the battlefield that was love.

"I wasn't trying to cheer you up," Captain Yami answered, "I was just telling the truth."

His tone was rather stern. Vanessa was both flattered and a bit afraid to see Yami's grave tone of voice aimed at her. Had she teased him too much? She didn't want him mad at her. Vanessa couldn't stand the thought of upsetting or disappointing Yami.

He continued in a casual tone of voice, "Don't worry about some shitty poll. Everyone knows that the most beautiful witch in the Magic Knights is the Black Bull's 'Lush of a Witch'. That's obvious, isn't it?"

Vanessa couldn't help but blush furiously. Her hands clenched together as she felt utterly embarrassed. She hoped he didn't realize just how flustered she was. Never in a million years did she expect to get this compliment from him. He saw her platonically, right? But his comment, while not particularly sexual, seemed a bit personal, didn't it? He was saying HE found her the most beautiful, right? She wondered if she should play it off with a tease, but decided yet again, to push her luck. Just maybe, she could change her fate tonight.

"Oh my, Captain," she said with a playful hand to her cheek, "You think I'm the most beautiful?"

She swore she saw Yami get flustered for once in his life. Not red in the cheeks but just a bit hesitant to answer. He then took in another breath of tobacco and sent a cloud pouring out from between his lips. He played it cool, as always.

He said slowly, "I said that, right? But don't push your luck and get a big head. You're part of my squad because of your abilities, not your looks. Save those worries for when you're off-duty, Vanessa."

"Of course, Captain," she was with heated cheeks, "I'm flattered you think so."

Vanessa was positively ecstatic now. Sure, he didn't have feelings for her, but if he found her attractive, that was a good start. In a way, his chivalry made her love him even more. He honestly respected her enough to not take advantage of her. He also respected her abilities as a mage, as a member of the Black Bulls. Perhaps she even met his qualifications for a strong woman. Even if she was not a frontline fighter, she was a competent witch who had won her fair share of battles. The lustful witch, with her insatiable thirst for the opposite sex, decided to risk it all for this man. And so, she sought to seduce her beloved captain. The ultimate prey.

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Later that night…

Crickets and frogs in some far-off bog kept the silence between them from being wholly unbearable. After another several minutes, Vanessa stood up and brought her bottle over to beside Captain Yami. For a moment, she was frozen behind him, staring down in petrification. Her mind momentarily froze as she wondered what to do next. Vanessa was sweating. What had gotten into her? She never froze, even in the company of a particularly gorgeous man. But this was Captain Yami we are talking about!

Just as Yami was about to ask what was up with her, the scarlet-haired witch sat herself down beside him on the log.

"Want a drink, Captain?" she asked playfully.

"Eh? Alright," he said casually.

He drank from her wine bottle and she took a swig herself. She truly wasn't like Charlotte, blushing from indirect kisses from Yami. She was just herself… Vanessa. And either he liked these parts of Vanessa or he didn't. In any case, Vanessa wasn't going to wait timidly any longer like her rival. Besides, Captain Yami would never make the first move. She'd never even see him with a woman before. She wondered why that was. Vanessa decided to learn where she stood in all of this, or rather to wrap her red thread of fate around him. Only this thread didn't require Rogue, only her womanly charms.

Vanessa slid her gloved hand behind his muscular arm and looped her arms around it until she had him wrapped in a loving embrace. He gazed over at her with a raised eyebrow. She placed her head on his shoulder. He didn't recoil or pull away. Even so, her actions could be mistaken for one of her casual flirtations, especially after the nice things he had said. She'd never gone further with him than this. It was time to cross the line!

Enoteca released her grip on his bulging arm muscles and placed her hand on his pec. It was so firm, ready to burst out of his shirt. It drove her mad with desire. She let her hand cling to his chest as she began to rest her cheek on his shoulder. There was no denying what she was trying to do, right?

"Hmm? What are you trying to do?" he asked blankly.

She said in a soft voice, "Captain, you must know I've got a huge crush on you. I've had one since you rescued me from that birdcage."

She lovingly stroked his pec and let her hands rub on the tree-trunk limbs he called arms. He stared forward like before, but she could feel it. His heartbeat was increasing.

Yami said calmly, "You know we can't. I'm your captain. I can't abuse that power."

Vanessa said, "What if I want it? If the sex or dating doesn't work out, we can just go back to how it was before."

Yami replied, "We can't go back, Vanessa. You're my beloved subordinate. I care about you. You should find a good, honest man to take care of you."

She exclaimed passionately, "Captain, you're the man I love! Only you."

She swore that for a moment, Yami flashed her the slightest hint of a blush.

"You're drunk," he said.

"Captain, you're so mean," she whined in a girly voice, "Just reject me outright. Say if you don't want me. For a man of few words, you sure dance around things."

Yami rubbed the back of his hair and said, "Want has nothing to do with it. I'm your captain. There are boundaries we can't cross."

Vanessa asked slyly, "So if I wasn't your underling… Are you saying you would?"

He didn't answer.

She leaned up to his ear and began to speak in her most erotic voice, "If I was in a different squad, would you get excited if you saw me in this outfit or in nothing but my lingerie laying on your bed? Waiting for it? Begging for it?"

He seemed frustrated now and rubbed his head as he said, "You look sexy as hell all the time. In your panties or your uniform. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Mmm-hmm," she said as she leaned up and kissed Yami on the lips. She put her hands on each side of his face as she pressed her lips against his. She was kissing her beloved captain. Vanessa felt his cheeks heat up even as he kept eye contact. She decided to do the same and give him "fuck me" eyes as she tasted his lips. At last, he kissed back.

"Mwuah," she said as they smooched.

Her heart was racing and her body was warm with fever.

"If you don't tell me to stop," she said in a breathy voice, "I might just go all the way, Captain. Fufufufu."

She giggled as her hands now roamed down his neck, laying loving kisses upon it. She tugged on his ear with her teeth like a predator tasting its meal. This man could break her in his arms, but right now, he seemed to have turned into jelly before her. Her hands wickedly fondled his muscles and ran across his delectable collarbones. She let her lips leave nude-pink lipstick kisses on his white t-shirt. Vanessa then traced her fingers over his abdominal muscles as she slid down and got onto her knees, a position she only took when devouring a man. She let her hand wrap around his bulge, and to her delight, her beloved captain seemed to be stiffening up. But she needed to truly impress Yami if she was to make him go absolutely wild for her. For that, she would use her man-pleasing skills until he was unable to think of any other woman than her.

"Wait," said Yami, "Those brats will see."

Are you getting flustered, Captain? How cute.

Vanessa said, "Then you better not moan too loud for me, Captain."

She was disobeying him. It was exciting to finally get what she wanted with the captain. However, she decided to pause a moment. Despite her desire to seduce him, she wanted his consent in all of this. And so she remained between his legs, dangerously close to his crotch as she gazed up at him patiently, awaiting those magic words. If he wanted her to stop, he merely needed to say so.

At last, he whispered, "Fine. But keep your voice down."

The witch sported a wicked smile. She slid down his pants and smirked at the sight of his fundoshi. She then slid aside his loincloth as her eyes widened.

This is Captain Yami's… cock

Vanessa licked her lips excitedly at the delectable sight in front of her. She hoped she wouldn't drool as anticipation left her starved for him. Her captain was well-hung indeed. She couldn't wait to kiss it. To taste it. To suck on it. To lick it. To swallow it. For it to stuff her full. Instinctively, she moaned as she slid her tongue on the underside of the shaft. She was already wet just from a taste of the erotic cock before her. It was almost instinctive how she devoured it hungrily. However, his veiny member wasn't yet at its most magnificent. Vanessa began to play with it in her skillful hand, rubbing her thumb over the bulbous head as she pulled back his foreskin. She then swirled her tongue around the glistening tip of Yami's throbbing erection. He was erect for her! She had succeeded in turning him on. She looked up to see Yami was panting a bit now. Inside, his rigid emotions were shattering.

He thought, "Damn. She's good at this. How many men has she done this with?"

The sight of Yami's ever-growing lust for her turned the witch on to no end. As did the taboo of sucking her captain's cock, a man who was practically family to her and the Black Bulls. There was also the thrill of getting caught. Vanessa did enjoy the idea of another man watching, but she knew if her comrades woke up, it was over. Even so, she wanted to make him moan and growl for her. She tasted his delicious manhood before wrapping her lips lovingly around the thick head and tasted his sticky precum. She then lay kisses down the underside until she reached her captain's balls, both of which were brimming with semen meant to impregnate her. She licked each testicle and wrapped her lips around them lovingly, sucking on them gently. Vanessa played with his balls in one hand now as she returned to his monstrous penis. Something so big… She would surely choke on it and it was sure to break her. Even so, she couldn't wait to find out if it would fit inside her womanhood. She decided to show him just how good she was at pleasing a man. She took his dick into her mouth and laid it on her tongue. She then sunk downward and let his shaft slide down her throat. The lustful witch was deepthroating her captain's entire cock, the man she was smitten with! It was like a dream come true for her. Vanessa couldn't help but moan as she took him in inch by inch until she swallowed him down to the base. She left his veiny dick covered in a wet froth of saliva. Her eyes were heavy with a fever for his manhood, and she let her finger rub against her clit. Without a doubt, this was the hottest blowjob she had ever given.

At last, Vanessa released his shaft from her mouth and asked him in her sultriest voice, "How does it feel? I'm quite proud of my blowjob skills."

He said both angrily and weakly, "Damn it. I'm going to lose it if you keep doing that."

"Then lose yourself to it, Captain!"

Vanessa slurped and tasted it hungrily before deepthroating the entire shaft once more. She was bobbing her head now. She could already tell the captain's manhood was throbbing and ready to burst. She giggled, somehow knowing he was not used to climaxing so soon. Unfortunately for him, there was dark witchcraft at work here. This witch's lascivious tongue was trying to drain him. She was kissing the head of it when she suddenly felt Yami's powerful hand wrap around her head. The young woman blushed as the muscular man forced her down onto his massive girth.

"Mmmmph!" she moaned both in surprise and in arousal.

She choked on it a bit as he handled her so roughly.

"S-Sorry," he said, "I lost control."

Vanessa giggled as she resumed her work and let him hold her against his crotch, making her worship it. He tasted utterly amazing. She licked his manhood lovingly now until it was left twitching and sensitive. As Yami began to rub her hair warmly, she let her tongue swirl around the head again. At last, she saw his dick twitch madly and the captain's teeth smashed together before he let out a growl. The untamed muscles of his body tightened, and his legs jerked forward violently.

"Fuck," he groaned, "Uggh….:"

Again, he forced her to swallow his cock as he climaxed. She lovingly took in every drop of this man's thick, fertile seed. The taste was salty and masculine. It bubbled as she drank it down, much of it getting stuck on the walls of her throat. Vanessa took down every drop for him, showing off the indisputable fact that she was a swallower, not a spitter.

"Mmmmn" she let out amidst licking her lips, "How was that?"

Yami said, "I doubt anyone can compete with that, Vanessa."

She loved when he said her name.

Her captain thought silently to himself as he recovered, "That's enough though. We can't go any further."

Vanessa said," Ooh. I got so horny, sucking your cock, Captain. Let's go all the way. Why don't you bend me over and have your way with me?"

Her words put an even more powerful hex on him, luring one of the most powerful captains in the Clover Kingdom into her trap. Yami grit his teeth again, looking like he was struggling to choose between a life and death choice on a hellish battlefield. But Vanessa already knew she had won. He then sighed as he regained control of himself… somewhat at least.

He answered flatly, "Not here. Let's go somewhere more private."

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Vanessa clung happily to her captain's arm as they made their way deeper into the forest. Around them, the air was growing cooler and the sound of nocturnal creatures deafened their ears. Once the tent was well out of sight, Yami brought Vanessa to a thicket of trees with a small grassy clearing on the other side. A fine choice. The wizard then pulled up her against him, his arms wrapping around her. It left her blushing and made her heart skip a beat. Her brain struggled to process that she was sharing such a romantic moment with such an aloof man as Captain Yami. His powerful hands slid down to her burgundy miniskirt, and he let his rough, calloused fingers feel her soft thighs.

He said, "You're always flaunting your body in this skimpy outfit, trying to get a rise out of men. Trying to get a rise out of me."

"Fufufu," she said, "That's right. Looks like I finally caught a good one."

She pulled down her corset dress and let her massive melons slip out. Her Captain Yami didn't waste any time in enjoying her chest. He began to press his handsome face into her cleavage, tickling her with inviting hot breaths upon her bare skin. Vanessa giggled, never expecting to see this side of her beloved leader. She let him take a nipple into his mouth and suckle on it fiercely as if searching for milk. His tongue was swirling around it as his sword-wielding hand sunk into her other breast. She panted and moaned, her breasts feeling all manner of pleasure from this man.

Once her nipples were left glistening with saliva, Vanessa guided Yami towards a large tree trunk behind him. She sat him down so his back rested against it as she began to kiss him again. She then grinned and blushed madly as she felt him lift up her skirt and slide down her purple panties. His forceful hands wrapped around her large round ass and sunk deep into it. Vanessa arched her back and moaned shamelessly as she felt him strike it with one of his burly hands. Her butt stung in the most delightful way as her captain marked her as his woman, leaving her rump stinging and a man's handprint temporarily tattooed upon it. He now spun her around so he could let his hands explore her from behind. Vanessa panted and squirmed as he gave into his pent-up desires. His hands fondled her breasts roughly from behind and sunk into them greedily as he nibbled on her ear, his teeth tugging on it gently. What a tease he was… She couldn't resist letting out another moan of approval. Yami let a hot puff of air linger in her ear, as if he were a hungry wolf about to devour her. His hand now slid down to her legs. She felt him slide a powerful index finger down to her womanhood. He played with the nub there, sending maddening pleasure up her body. Vanessa squealed in his embrace. His hairy arms were bulging and his veins were throbbing as he held her against him, exploring her body however he wished.

He said heatedly, "Your body is insane."

She panted, "Ooh. You're the … mmnn… one who looks built for breeding me."

He said sinfully in her ear, "What a coincidence, you look built for being bred."

His words were utterly arousing to her. Did he really just say such a thing? He wasn't usually like this. Was he drunker than he appeared? Vanessa wasn't sure of what the answer might be, but he was saying all the right things. Usually, she relied on a few words of praise from Yami each month, but today he was making her feel like a queen, even as he handled her so roughly. His fingers now slid into her lower lips of which were soaking wet. She panted as she leaked out fluids in response to his skillful finger. A second digit slipped into her womanhood and together both fingers began to thrust into her like a dick. After several minutes of being fingered and having her breasts fondled, the man-loving witch splashed out her juices for him. However, like Yami, she was far from winded. His teasing had only made her more desperate to push these boundaries past the point of no return. As he continued to play with her clit, Vanessa moaned out her true desire.

"Oh fuck, Captain," she said as she panted madly, "I want it. I want your cock. I want you to impregnate me! Mmmmnn."

Yami said, "Alright then. Bend over."

Vanessa grinned happily and obeyed him. Despite how weak her legs were after being pleasured by the samurai's ruthless hands, she perfectly balanced herself on her high heels. Vanessa bent over with her hands pressed against the tree's lengthy trunk as she presented her ass to him. Her garters dug into her flesh as she did. She panted and as she felt Yami's hot shaft land directly on her ass cheeks. He was driving her crazy! She found herself desperate to be fucked by him as if she were in heat during mating season.

"Ooh don't tease me, Captain," she said with a manic look in her eye.

He said, "Vanessa… Sorry. I don't think I'll be able to control myself."

"Don't hold back," she said, "Let out all your pent-up frustration… Unleash all your lust onto me."

He said, "Have it your way. You're the one that caused this so hurry up and take responsibility."

The witch panted as she felt Yami's shaft begin to force its way into her and spread her wide. He was stuffing her full and splitting her apart. He was utterly massive and just the feeling of it remaining inside her was driving her mad. Vanessa then felt his boiling-hot hands grab her ass as he withdrew. Immediately, he speared her deep and fast as he swung forward his muscular hips. His hard muscles crashed into her soft flesh. The clap of his testicles to her butt echoed through the forest. Yami seemed mesmerized by how her butt jiggled with his thrusts and so he struck both pale cheeks with his palm. The succubus witch moaned with every blow as he increased the speed of his thrusts. He suddenly grabbed her by the wrists and pulled them back beside her hips. Her captain was having his way with her! His thrusts became ferocious, like that of a bucking bronco. He slammed into her and impaled her deep, spearing her with every inch of his veiny rod. It sent a shock up her spine. She looked back to see the dashing ronin panting madly, baring his fangs to her like a feral beast. His handsome face was red and glistened with sweat. As he overheated, Yami gave her quite the show as he pulled off his shirt and revealed his glistening, glorious chest. His pecs and chiseled abs were practically oiled with sweat as he continued to thrust into her. His cock was already throbbing as it rammed in deep.

Her captain said, "Damn. I'm going to cum. Where do you want it?"

She panted as she frantically said, "Inside!"

"Suit yourself, witch," he answered.

As he poured into her, she heard him growl like a ferocious beast. He arched his back and tightened his grip on her wrists as he shoved his manhood in deep again and unloaded fertile seed into her womb. Venessa's tongue hung out as she moaned from feeling him froth within her. She knew she would need to buy an emergency pregnancy-control charm the next morning. A thick load like this was dangerous for her. And yet it drove her mad as he kept dragging back his hips and snapping forward into her, so desperate to impregnate her. Not a moment later, she climaxed again. She arched her back as her juices splashed out of her and his seed poured deep in.

In the heat of the moment, Vanessa cried out, "Captain, I've always loved you! Aaaahnn!"

Yami said, "That's playing dirty, you troublesome woman… Fuck!"

He grit his teeth angrily as his body began to tremble. His powerful eyes weakened and his face was red from blushing. For them both, it felt as if his virile semen would never stop filling her. As Yami pulled out, one last shot escaped him and splashed onto her ass and clothes. Vanessa was marked by the erotic scent of her mate. Yami panted now over her as his muscled tightened and relaxed with every breath.

"Oooh…" said Vanessa, feeling his load gush out of her.

She then looked back at her beloved captain. To her amusement, he was still rearing to go. She licked her lips and rubbed her butt against his manhood playfully, threatening to make it slip into either of her holes.

"Shall we continue until you are spent?" she asked playfully.

Yami panted and took out a cigarette, lighting a fresh smoke.

He muttered something that sounded like, "Insatiable woman."

That night they did it in every position imaginable. From behind. Missionary. Cowgirl. Vanessa even begged him until he dicked her asshole. As morning arose, she and her captain were left utterly exhausted. He was completely spent and her clothes were stained with the gift of her darling Captain's essence, the fruits of their lovemaking. Yami now tenderly held her slender wrist in his mighty grip, holding her close to him. His broad-shouldered body welcomed her into rest. Vanessa leaned up and planted another kiss on his lips. He did not resist as their lips crashed against one another. After such a hedonistic encounter, Vanessa was surprised the night ended so softly. Yet she would not complain. A romantic embrace with her captain was equally welcome.

As they heard Asta and Charmy begin to stir back at the camp, Vanessa and Yami immediately sprung to their feet in a panic. Suddenly, all the risks and consequences of their lustful endeavor returned to them.

Yami said, "Let's run for the river. We'll pretend we fell in boar shit or something."

Vanessa said, "Oh? I was going to brag to the other Black Bulls. Mission success! I seduced the captain!"

Yami said humorlessly, "You're mad, woman. Absolutely not. You're definitely joking, but don't forget, you and I will be in hot water with the higher-ups if I'm caught fraternizing with a subordinate."

Vanessa said, "Ah. I'm sorry about that."

He then put a hand on her head and let it ruffle through her pink locks. She couldn't help but blush the same as always. Anytime he doted on her, she was extremely happy.

He said, "So I'm saying it's best you keep this between us for now. Is that clear?"

"Aye aye, Sir," she said with a professional salute.

He then sighed again and for a moment, she saw a genuine smile upon his face.

Jeez. Just when I thought he couldn't get any more handsome.

Yami then gazed at her with a bit of determination in his eyes.

He said, "Oh yeah. I want to clear something up. You talked about me preferring strong women. But actually, I told you I like women I can drink with too. You're the one who asked me at the festival, remember?"

"A-Ah," she said a bit embarassed, "You mean-"

"I'm saying you fit both those things. That makes you my type of woman, doesn't it?" said Yami, "So no more pouting. You got your way after all."

He then continued, "Oh, and no more flirting with other guys, got it?'

She said a bit angrily, "Of course, I know that! Geeze."

Her man now smiled at her and waved back at her as he said, "Well, we best wash up."

Vanessa then heard him say gently and mischievously, "Seems I'm caught in the witch's web with no way out. What a pain."

With that, Yami turned around and coolly made his way towards the river, happily smoking as he did. He had his hands in his pockets now as he sported a sly grin she could not see. Instead, Vanessa was left with a hand to her chest as her face turned a brand-new shade of scarlet. That man… he liked her more than he let on it seemed. She couldn't help but smile lovingly at him, enjoying the sight of his shoulder blade and muscles pressing through his sleeveless shirt.

What an interesting man he was! Despite claiming to be a warrior of few thoughts and fewer words, Captain Yami was cleverer than he let on. A good match for a clever witch like her. He always knew what to say to make her happy. With those words, Vanessa knew that slowly but surely, they could start a relationship together. Despite her insecurities, Yami had picked her in the end. He chose HER. She couldn't help but feel a bit of pride and a sense of relief at her victory. She looked forward to the day he held her bridal style in his arms with her family, those rambunctious Black Bulls, cheering them on as they announced they were officially dating. Until then, she would be his wicked witch and pull the strings needed to get her way and gain their happy ending together.

<3 The End <3 

[nhlandotherimagines]

Family isn’t Always Blood-Part 2

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Summary: Kinsey and Elias’ relationship gets put to the test. Will Elias’ family accept Kinsey? Guess you’ll have to read and find out :)

Author’s Notes: Part 2 let’s go!!!

Word Count: approx. 5.1 k

Warnings: all the same as part 1, also this part likely won’t make much sense unless you read the first part, there is also a a gender reveal in this part so if you really don’t want to read it for that reason I understand and I will add that I do know they are problematic however it was just part of the plot and I felt the need to write it

———

“Can we get an apartment together?”

My question catches Elias by surprise. “Are you seriously suggesting we move in together right now?” He asks laughing in disbelief, but his face softens.

“Well I mean yeah! But, mine is definitely too small, and yours is a bachelor pad. We are probably going to want something a bit bigger.” An unsure smile spreads slowly across my face, as I watch Elias attempting to wrap his head around what I’m saying.

“My apartment would be fine for us, but if you’d rather something different we can look into it.” He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, and I can tell he’s even more confused about my sudden desire to live with him.

“I mean it’s great and I wouldn’t mind living there with you, but we will need more room for the baby don’t you think?” 

Elias slowly pulls away from me, staring down at me, his mouth slightly agape. My eyes begin to water and the smile returns to my face. “Y-you wait? You’re really?” Elias is a sputtering mess, trying to wrap his head around what I’m saying, trying to keep his own emotions in check as he likely waits for me to break down.

I nod, tears falling down my face now. “I’m pregnant Elias.”

“Oh. Okay um, wow.” He pauses, eyes falling briefly to my stomach, but they quickly snap up to meet mine again. “How do you feel about that?”

I grab his wrists that are gently resting on my hips, and guide them to sit gently on my stomach. I then reach up and hold his face in my hands and take a deep breath. “I’m terrified. I don’t know how to be a mom, but I guess no one really does know how until they are one. All I know is this baby, it’s-“ I let out a small chuckling trying to hold in the sob trying to escape my throat. “This baby is ours Elias. We made them, and I wouldn’t want to learn how to be a parent with anyone else.”

I can feel Elias’ hands trembling against my stomach, his touch is feather light as if he’s scared to hurt me. I wait patiently for him to respond, but suddenly he just falls down to his knees and rests his forehead against my stomach. He’s muttering to himself in Swedish, and I’m unable to make out any of it. “Elias?”

As he lifts his head to look up at me, his eyes are bloodshot and tears are streaming down his face. If it weren’t for the show stopping smile on his face, I would think he was upset. “We are having a baby!” He chokes out, tears still steadily flowing across his now reddened cheeks. He places a soft kiss on my stomach, and in that moment I know that everything will be okay. I can do this. We can do this. Together. Our little family.

———

“How are you feeling?” My obstetrician, Dr. McLean, asks as she enters the room.

“Nervous.” Elias answers, his leg continuing to bounce like it has been since he sat down.

“I’m pretty sure that question was meant for me Pettersson.” I giggle, placing my hand on his knee. “I’m feeling better than him apparently.” I joke as I turn back towards Dr. McLean.

She laughs along with me, before explaining how the ultrasound will work. 

Elias watches closely as the doctor puts the gel on my stomach. As she presses the wand to my stomach Elias’ eyes snap to the monitor. As curious as I am, I can’t take my eyes off of my boyfriend. He looks like a child on Christmas morning, not knowing yet what the gifts will be, but excited nonetheless. His baby blues swirl with emotion, and his blonde hair falls perfectly over his forehead. 

“There they are! That’s your baby!” Dr. McLean announces, and my eyes quickly find the screen. I follow the doctors finger as she points out the different body parts, a whole new wave of emotions washing over me. Excitement courses through me, and when my eyes find Elias again, he’s staring down at me, tears falling silently down his face. 

Dr. McLean excuses herself to print off the sonogram photos we asked for, but I can’t focus on her. All I can focus on is the beautiful man in front of me. The man I love. The father of my child. 

“You’re incredible.” He breathes out, running the back of his hand across his face to get her the tears that had fallen. “That’s our baby.”

It’s my turn to cry now as Elias places a soft kiss to my forehead. “It really is. Thank you Elias for giving me a family.” 

“No, thank you.” He smiles brushing away my tears. 

——-

“Do not even think about lifting that box!” I groan rolling my eyes. 

“Pettersson! This box weighs 15 pounds at most and I’m hardly even pregnant!” I yell back, not even really sure how he could see me anyway as he just steps through the apartment door. There is a long pause followed by a muttered profanity.

“Pregnant? You’re pregnant!?” Brock. Fuck, this is not how we intended on telling anyone. Of course I forgot Brock was coming over. When I turn around, Brock’s chin is on the floor and Elias’ hands cover his face as he grumbles inaudibly to himself.

“No?” The uncertainty in my voice a dead give away he didn’t need. Brock’s smile grows and he’s clapping Elias’ shoulder. “Brock we just found out, you can’t say anything!”

“My lips are sealed. On one condition!” The smirk on his face causes Elias and I both to roll our eyes. “I get to be Uncle Brock!”

I can’t help the laughing tumbling past my lips, or the soaring feeling in my heart. I’ve always loved having Brock around, and the thought of having another great man around for this baby to look up to makes me so happy. “I wouldn’t have it any other way Uncle Brock.” I add a little wink at the nickname as he gathers me into a hug. He whispers congratulations into my ear, and places a kiss to the top of my head.

When he pulls away, Elias is smiling at us, a look of happiness similar to the one I’m wearing, on his face. I walk over to him and pull him in for a quick kiss. His hands instinctively find my stomach, like they have many times since last week at the hospital. Sure I was only 2 months pregnant, and not even showing, but Elias doesn’t care.

“Is that why this move is happening so quickly?” Brock asks, and my smile falters a bit. It certainly would seem that way to most, and I guess it kind of is that way. I feel a little guilty about it, like I’m using the baby to tie Elias down, but that had never been my intention.

Elias must sense my mood shifting, because he speaks up. “It certainly helped it along, but Kinsey’s lease was almost up and I wanted her to move in before we found out anyway.”

Reaching up, I place a small kiss on his cheek. The questions that will come along with this pregnancy are inevitable, and they scare me, but somehow Elias makes everything seem easier. With him I feel like I can do anything.

“Have you told anyone else?” I shake my head, cheeks tinting a light shade of pink. We were planning on waiting another couple weeks to tell anyone, but now Brock was the first to know. “I’m honoured!” He chuckles, smiling at us as Elias throws one arm over my shoulder. “I’m so happy for you both.”

So am I Brock. So am I.

———

Today was the day we are telling Elias’ family about the baby, and to put it nicely, I’m shitting bricks. 

“Just breathe.” I shoot Elias a glare that is mostly uncalled for, but my anxiety is through the roof right now. This could change everything. Sure, Irene liked me before, and wants grandbabies, but like this? “Kins. You’re going to stress out the baby. I promise you it’s going to be okay.”

I send him a forced smile, and nod pressing a kiss to his cheek. Elias opens his laptop and places it gently on the coffee table in front of us. I had wanted to make the surprise memorable for the Pettersson family, and knowing they couldn’t be in Vancouver when we were going to tell them, made it slightly more difficult. I spent weeks planning the surprise before we shipped the box to the family home in Sweden.

In the box was an individual package for each family member who would be present during the FaceTime call. In Elias’ father Törbjörn’s package was the tiniest pair of skates we could purchase. Elias’ older brother Emil’s package held a Vancouver Canucks jersey. The number 1 on the back, and a name plate above it that reads ‘Uncle’. Irene’s package, by far my favourite one, is a gold necklace with a small locket. Inside the locket is a tiny sonogram of the baby. 

“Can we open it now?” Irene asks excitedly, foregoing a regular greeting. I giggle, and Elias smiles brightly beside me.

“There is an individual package for each of you. Make sure you open them at the same time!” Irene’s eyes light up in excitement as she hands Emil and Törbjörn their packages.

“Go ahead.” Elias instructs, and my heart beat picks up slightly. The nerves coursing through me, causing my hands to shake and knee to bounce. Elias’ hand comes to rest gently on my knee, and he rubs his thumb in soothing circles across my bare knee.

I watch closely as Elias’ family open their gifts. Emil is the first to open his eyes widening as he reads the nameplate on his jersey. His smile grows as he stares through the screen in disbelief. Elias squeezes my knee in response, and I look over at him briefly, his eyes watering as he watches his family.

Törbjörn inspects the tiny skates, seemingly oblivious to the significance of their size. I giggle as he thanks us both, and comments on how cute they are. 

My gaze settles on Irene as she pulls the locket from its box. Her smile grows as she looks at the small gold heart shaped locket. “It’s beautiful!” She gushes, and I can’t help the tears forming in my eyes. 

“Open it up Mom!” Elias practically yells at her, his patience growing thin. 

Irene slowly opens the locket taking in the small photo inside. I watch her closely, waiting for any indication that she has caught on. After a few moments the smile on her face falls, and so does my heart. I knew this was going to be too soon for her. Elias and I are still so young, and we haven’t even been together that long. Hell, I’ve only met the woman once in person.

“Mom?” Elias’ voice cracks, and I can now see the nerves he’s been hiding, as the tears in his eyes threaten to spill down his cheeks.

“Is-is this a baby?” She asks pointing to the locket. Elias and I both nod in response. “Your baby?” Her voice shakes, as she asks the question. Her face is devoid of any emotion. No sadness, happiness, confusion or anger, and I honestly would prefer her screaming at me than this awkward back and forth.

“Yes. We are having a baby.” A single year falls down Elias’ cheek as he forces a brave smile. I hate seeing him like this. I know he’s excited about this baby, but if his family isn’t he will be crushed.

When I finally peel my eyes away from Elias and back to the laptop screen, Irene is crying. Not just a few tears, this woman is in full on hysterics.Törbjörn holds her to his chest, and Emil rubs her back gently. I feel sick. Scratch that, I’m going to be sick. 

Immediately springing to my feet, I run as fast as I can to the bathroom. Elias calls after me, but I can’t stop. I quickly part ways with the nice breakfast Elias made me this morning, as I sit on the bathroom floor. “I’m sorry.” I cry, rubbing small circles over my stomach. “I’m so sorry.”

———

After probably 20 minutes of sitting on the bathroom floor, I pull myself up. I brush my teeth and fix my hair in the mirror. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I make my way back toward the living room. I stop at the end of the hall, watching Elias speak with his family. The conversation is now completely in Swedish, and they’re speaking so fast there is no way I can keep up. 

Elias’ eyes meet mine across the room, and he smiles brightly. “There she is!” He muses in a much more cheerful tone than that I’d left him with. “Feeling alright beautiful?”

All I can do is nod in response, and walk towards him. Instead of taking my seat next to him, I position myself behind the couch running my hands over his shoulders and down his chest lightly. I press a kiss to his lips when he turns to smile up at me. 

“Kinsey?” Irene’s voice sounds a little hesitant when she speaks, but when I turn my attention back to the screen she’s smiling. “Thank you.”

My brows furrow slightly, and I’m about to tell her she has no reason to thank me, but she speaks first. “Thank you for giving me a grand baby. We are all so excited and so happy for you! But mostly, thank you for loving my Elias. Welcome to the family dear.” 

She is smiling brightly back at me, her necklace now displayed proudly on her chest. Emil is now sporting his jersey, and I’m almost positive Törbjörn placed the tiny skates above the fireplace in the background. Tears are flowing down my face now, and Irene’s face fills with worry. “Oh dear! I didn’t mean to make you cry!”

A watery laugh escapes my throat, and I shake my head as I swipe at the tears on my face. “Just hormones. Thank you Mrs. Pettersson, that means a lot to me.”

“You can call me Mom dear, if you want that is. Irene or Grammy works now too.” A few tears slip down her face as well, but the smile she is sporting lets me know she is happy.

“Thank you,” I pause briefly, taking a deep breath. This is the moment I always dreamed of, having that mother daughter moment, and revealing I was going to be a mom too. The issue was I’ve never had a Mother I felt close to like that. My mother doesn’t care about me, or my baby, unless there is something in it for her. Watching how wonderful Elias’ family is, and how welcoming his Mom has been to me and now this baby has me crying even harder. “Mom.”

My voice is weak when I choke out the last part, and immediately Elias is on his feet gathering me in his arms. “It’s okay Kins, it’s okay sweetie.” He rubs my back, and I cry into his chest. I hear him speaking softly to his mother before he ends the call. “Kinsey? Talk to me.”

“Y-your mom. She’s so wonderful, I love your family Elias.” I manage to get the words out without lifting my face from where it’s pressed against his chest. 

“And they love you, so why are you upset?” He chuckles a little bit, and a small smile cracks on my face momentarily at the sound.

“I’ve never had a Mom Elias.” I breathe out, and Elias places a hand under my chin tilting it up so I’m looking at him. His brows knit together in confusion. “Well I do I guess. I have a woman who gave birth to me and kind of looked after me while I was growing up, but she has never been a mother. I’ve always craved that mother daughter relationship. I used to dream about telling my Mom I was having a baby, until I realized we didn’t have that kind of relationship. It made me think I could never do this, that I’d never be a Mom. So having your mom be so happy to have me be the mother of her grandchild, to call me family, and ask me to call her mom. It’s just so much, and I don’t know that I really deserve it, but it feels so nice! I’m just- I’m so happy right now.”

With that Elias kissed me. It was a rushed kiss, fast and passionate, but not heated, nor was it intended to go farther. The kiss was more like his attempt to communicate how loved I was, and how happy he was too. I smile against his lips, our teeth clashing a few times, but I don’t care. My hands thread through his beautiful hair and tug gently as his cold hands sneak up under my shirt to rest on my stomach.

“You are family y’know?” Elias speaks as he pulls back so we can both catch our breath. My hands scratch lightly through his hair as I smile at him. “You’re my family now. Me, you, and our beautiful baby.”

“I hope they have your hair, and your eyes.” I giggle. I’ve never known happiness like this. This is my family.

———

“Shit!” I groan flopping back on the bed in defeat. I’ve always been a girl who loves skinny jeans, and now here I am unable to fit in almost every pair of pants I own. Minus my sweats and a singular pair of yoga pants that have holes in them.

“Everything okay out there?” Elias asks poking his head out of the ensuite bathroom. He’s seriously been the best, but his constant worrying tends to be a bit suffocating at times. It is very sweet though, seeing him care so much for me, and this baby.

“I have nothing to wear! None of my pants fit!” I whine out, sounding like a child myself. This wasn’t the time though. Today is the day we tell all of our friends, and I have nothing nice to wear. 

“Baby blue sundress in the back of the closet, wear that.” Elias’ head pops back in the bathroom to finish getting ready, and I lay on my back in complete bewilderment. How does he even remember that dress, let alone where I keep it? He’s right though, it is the perfect outfit.

Slipping it over my head is easy, and it flows around my body perfectly. The bump is completely undetectable, and I’m comfortable. It’s perfect.

“You look beautiful.” Elias smiles, placing a gentle kiss to my cheek.

“You don’t look too bad yourself Pettersson.” I smirk, my hands finding the back of his neck as his find my waist. He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans, a pale blue shirt, and a black ball cap sits backwards on his head. 

“Ready for this momma?” He asks with a smirk. The nickname isn’t one he’s used before, and the effect it has on me is embarrassing. My face heats up, heart rate increases, and my smile grows.

“Momma huh?” I giggle, and Elias’ hands once again find my stomach.

“It suits you.” He winks, and kisses my forehead. His hands drop from my stomach as he steps away grabbing his wallet and keys from the top of the dresser. His hand finds mine as he leads me out of the apartment and to the car. Today should be interesting.

——-

Nerves course through me the entire drive. Elias’ right hand never leaves me, as it moves from my hand to my thigh and then finally settles on my stomach. A smile settles on his face when it does, and I find myself fighting back tears.

“Your stomach is growing a lot!” He gushes, and I can’t stop the laugh that tumbles past my lips. The nerves forgotten momentarily.

“Jeez thanks babe!” I joke back, placing a hand over the one he has on my stomach. The way his arm is stretched out across the center console can’t be comfortable, but Elias seems completely content.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He chuckles, as he pulls into the Horvat’s driveway. “Ready for this?”

I nod, not trusting my voice. 

Before I know it, Elias is guiding me into the Horvat’s living room, his hand low on my back. Bo and Holly are quick to greet us, Bo pulling Elias off to talk hockey, and Holly drags me to the kitchen. “Red or white?” She asks, holding two bottles of wine in front of me. Shit.

“Oh no thanks, I’m good. I told Elias I’d drive.” I stutter out. The heat rising in my cheeks sure to give away that I’m lying, as Holly cocks her brow at me.

“One glass won’t hurt right? You’re staying awhile aren’t you?” She’s watching me closely as I try and find Elias in the crowd. My hands shake lightly, and I absentmindedly press them on my stomach to settle them. “Oh. My. God.” Holly’s hand immediately wraps around one of my wrists as she pulls me down the hall and into Ava’s bedroom. “Spill!” Her demanding tone cracking slightly as a smile forms on her face.

“Damn, okay we were going to make an announcement later, so you’re going to have to act surprised.” I pause, and she quickly nods, her smile growing. “I’m pregnant.” 

The words leave my mouth barely above a whisper and are quickly cut off by the squeal that leaves Holly. “I knew it!” She bounces on the balls of her feet excitedly like a child. “How far along are you?” 

“13 weeks.” The smile on Holly’s face, mirrors the one on my own. She pulls me into a hug whispering more congratulations in my ear, before pulling me back out to the party.

———

The party goes on without incident, not that I would ever expect any less from the Horvat’s. The food is wonderful, and of course the people surrounding me makes the night that much better. The house around me is littered with hockey players and their families, children all huddled into the backyard climbing on the playground, as the adults laugh amongst each other about everything and nothing. 

“What’s wrong babe?” Elias asks as he snakes an arm around my waist.

“Wha- nothing! Why?” I ask, looking up at him as he smiles softly down at me. His blonde head towering over me.

“You’re crying.” He chuckles, sweeping the pad of his thumb across my cheek bone. “Again.”

“Stupid horomones.” I grumble wiping at my face aggressively. Crying has become a frequent occurrence in the first trimester of this pregnancy, and Elias seems to find it quite entertaining most of the time. As long as I’m not actually sad of course.

“Can we tell them now?” I can practically feel the impatience radiating from him, as his eyes search mine for any hesitation.

“Of course we can babe! Honestly I’m surprised you and Brock have managed to keep it to yourselves this long.” The groan that leaves my boyfriend has me laughing as he rolls his eyes. Despite the attitude, a smile grows on his face as his hand finds mine before he drags me into the backyard where everyone has congregated around the small fire pit.

“Nice of the lovebirds to join us finally.” Bo chirps as we take two free seats just next to him.

“Be nice Bo, or we won’t tell you.” Elias shrugs nonchalantly.

“Tell me what?” He asks, looking between the two of us. I glance at Elias and giggle, causing Bo’s eyes to grow wider. “Tell me what!?” His voice slightly louder and more frantic as he repeats the question.

Elias’ eyes find mine silently asking me if he should. “Go ahead.” I smile at him, and he squeezes my hand lightly.

“Yeah Petey! Go ahead!” Bo, leans forward in his chair excitedly.

“Okay! Okay!” He chuckles, shaking his head at his teammates. The crowd that has gathered around also listening intently, all eyes on Elias. “Wow. This is awkward isn’t it? Well I guess it’s about time we told you all that Kinsey and I are having a baby.”

His hand tightens even more around mine as the words leave his lips. He’s nervous, I can tell. The moment of silence that follows seems to last forever, even though I’m sure in reality it’s only seconds before someone reacts.

“You’re pregnant!?” I’m not sure who breaks the silence, but I’m immediately bombarded by congratulations, cheers and hugs. All of the WAGs gather around me and I giddily share all of the information they’re dying to know, as Elias gets pulled aside by his teammates.

It’s in this moment that I realize this is family. Listening to, supporting, and just genuinely being excited for the people you care about. Maybe the people who raised me couldn’t wrap their heads around what family is meant to be, but I can. It’s this, it’s a feeling of belonging that I will try my hardest to ensure this baby feels every day of their life.

———

“Kins, sit down. Everything is perfect, and has been since 5 am. Can we just relax for a while before people get here?” Elias whines, as he flops onto the couch. 

“Fine!” I huff, adjusting the two stacks of napkins sitting on the table for what must be the twelfth time this morning. Elias is right, I’ve been wide awake since 3:30 and have been obsessively setting up for the gender reveal party ever since.

“You have to stop stressing babe. It's not good for you or the baby.” Elias lightly scolds me, as he shuffles over to give me room to lay down with him. As I settle in next to him, his hand finds my stomach and he rubs it lightly.

“I can’t help it! I’m nervous, I just want everything to be perfect.” I roll onto my side as best as I can to face him, my hand running through his hair.

“It already is babe. We are having a baby remember?” The goofy smile on his face, has me relaxing into him. My eyes flutter shut as he places a light kiss to my forehead, and I can feel my exhaustion slowly creeping up on me. “Have a nap babe I’ll wake you up in a little while.” The words are hardly out of his mouth before I’m drifting off to sleep.

———

“Look at you two!” Holly gushes, pulling me into a hug, continuing to mutter about our outfits. Elias and I decided to wear Canucks jerseys. His, a regular Canucks jersey with the number 1 and ‘Daddy’ printed across the back, and mine, a pink Canucks jersey with the number 1 and ‘Mommy’ printed across the back. I’m quite proud of them if I’m honest.

As the rest of the guests arrive, I greet them and make sure they all sign the guest book. Elias has set up shop in the kitchen offering everyone a drink, and pointing them towards the large array of snacks. I certainly never thought I’d end up here. Surrounded by so many amazing people, who all showed up to celebrate a baby. My baby. It’s surreal.

Once everyone has arrived, I take a moment to admire the space around me. Blue and pink streamers hang from the ceiling thanks to Elias, who refused to let me climb the ladder. Balloons litter the apartment, many of them now being thrown around by Elias and his friends. The laughter and chaos bring a smile to my face as my gaze settles on my favourite decoration of all.

In the far corner of the room was a tiny replica of a players stall, very similar to that in which you’d find in the Canucks locker room. Hanging in the stall is a small jersey inside of the tiniest little black garment bag you’ve ever seen, and the nameplate at the top of the stall reads ‘Welcome to the Team! Who Could You Be?’. I was quite proud of the idea really, and Elias was quick to volunteer to make my vision a reality. 

“This may just be the cutest gender reveal party I’ve ever been to!” Holly gushes as she gently bumps my hip. The smile on her face screams excitement, and it makes me feel warm inside. “So what’s the deal with that?” I giggle when she gestures towards the stall across the room.

“Well,” I take a breath, placing a hand on my stomach. “Inside that little bag is a tiny Pettersson jersey. Could be pink like mine, or blue like Petey’s. We are going to open it together.”

“So do you already know what it is?” She asks, eyes never leaving the stall as she examines it a little more closely.

“No idea. We had it sent to us just like that.” The fact I’m minutes away from knowing even the smallest, and probably most insignificant about this baby, is making me nervous. Sure, its just the sex of the baby, it means very little about who they will be in the future, and it won’t affect how I care for them. However, it is making it feel that much more real, as the insecurities i’ve managed to keep at bay seem to resurface all at once. This is terrifying.

------

“Alright and action!” Brock yells from behind the camera, and everyone erupts into laughter. The smile on my face hopefully hiding the fear in my heart.

“Ready Momma?” Elias asks, kissing my cheek. All I can do is nod, and the countdown starts. The energy in the room is so intense, but in the best way possible, as our friends yell loud enough to warrant a noise complaint.

3…

2…

1!

Elias’ fingers find the zipper on the garment bag, and I place mine gently over his. His hand shakes under mine, and although I know it’s mostly excitement, I can tell he's nervous as we slowly pull down the zipper together.

As the garment bag falls away, my heart stops. There is no way this is happening, not right now! Elias’ hand drops from mine as he steps back slightly, as the people around me seem to let out a collective gasp. Tears burn my eyes, and before I can stop them, they’re falling down my face. This is NOT what I expected.

Tagging: @anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya @heatherawoowoo

I hope y’all liked it! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the next parts!

[dreaming-of-assclass]

Nagisa getting angry at the whole class/or group 4 hc’s? The reason could be something about tainting Sakura or something? I just love mad Nagisa. Hope you’re doing well 🙌

Wait I love this so much omg, an opportunity to have him go apeshit like he deserved!! 💚 I love the idea of involving Sakura but I changed it up a bit ^^; Also if it's ok, I decided to write a short one-shot!

(Nagisa gets angry, 3-E gets put in their places and learns to be more humble) One-Shot!!

It was Day 5 of their assigned punishment, volunteering at the school. It was safe to say that majority of the class accepted it by this point and chose to focus on positives. even enjoying the time that was spent there.

The more damage they noticed, the more determined they were to fix the building and give the kids a proper place to learn. Chiba, who led the architect aspects, was especially endeared towards them, probably because he had younger sisters of his own.

The class all had divvied up their tasks. A large portion focused mainly on repairs and handiwork, but often alternated so people could have breaks too. Another big part of the class focused on entertaining the kids and helping Matsukata with the lessons.

A lot of students, the ones with high grades, were also involved in tutoring the children and generally helping out if it was needed. Kanzaki, Fuwa, Mimura, to name a few.

Nagisa figured he was in the very small minority of his classmates who was really only spending time with one child. Actually, scratch that, he was the only one.

But it wasn't like he minded! Sure, Sakura could be a brat and she was prickly at times. All the time... but she was just a kid! A kid who had already been conditioned into thinking she was a hopeless case! Of course, Nagisa would do everything in his power to help her feel better about herself.

After all, he knew exactly how it felt.

But Nagisa wasn't completely oblivious. Even if his attention was on her, he didn't miss the eye-roll exchanges amongst his classmates. Or the annoyed sigh his friends would give if he mentioned tutoring Sakura.

It left a very bad taste in his mouth, but he wisely chose to ignore it, pretend like he didn't hear anything before going back towards Sakura with new worksheets in hand.

This had continued on since the second day of their volunteering, so for a few days now. The subtle quirks of their eyebrows, quiet scoffs, whispering amongst each other.

Nagisa liked to believe that his classmates weren't snobby or problematic. But their behavior was seriously starting to piss him off now, and if it continued, he wasn't sure if he could shut up any longer.

________________

Of course, it had to be Sugino first.

Nagisa loved his best friend truly, but never did he feel so strong of an urge to sock him in the head.

They were all walking back home, as it was the end of the day and their after-school time at the school was done. The children had left first, then Class E stayed to do some extra work and help Matsukata before leaving themselves.

Like usual, Class E was split up. Some kids walked far along in their own groups, chatting. Others had already turned down their streets, ready to head home. Nagisa was in the back with Sugino, Kayano, Kanzaki, Okuda, Terasaka, and Nakamura.

Karma hadn't come in that day, claiming he was sick. Well...not surprising.

They were walking, feet sore from the day and their bags weighing over their shoulders. It was mostly Nakamura and Kayano talking, with a couple quips from Terasaka.

Nagisa was mostly just zoning out, thinking of what his mom would say or do tonight. Was she working late? Should he grab some groceries? Should he do the laundry-?

"Hellooooo~!" A hand waved in front of his face and Nagisa jolted up to see Sugino grinning at him expectedly. "Dude, wake up!"

"Sorry about that," Nagisa replied quickly (automatically) before smiling back. "What's up?"

"I was just gonna ask if you'd be up for leaving the volunteering stuff early tomorrow with me and Karma. He said he found a cool new comic shop to check out."

Nagisa bit his lip to stop from laughing out loud. Karma and Sugino really went from being "enemies" to now inviting him to their plans. Oh, the irony.

"Mm sorry, but I have to make the most use of that time to help Sakura. Maybe another time?" He offered.

Sugino's smile quirked. Ah, there it was.

"Man, that sucks."

Nagisa's eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"

"That you have to miss out on studying and fun just to tutor some bratty kid," Sugino retorted without missing a beat.

Nagisa's jaw almost dropped. Sugino liked kids. Where the heck was this coming from? "What's your problem?" He demanded.

At this point, the whole group had quieted down to watch them both with interest. Nakamura's lips were upturned as she crossed her arms. Terasaka's body posture appeared lax, but a sharp glint was in his eyes. Kayano just looked worried

Sugino carded his hand through his hair, frustrated. "Look, I just think you should leave her alone. She's still got a terrible attitude and isn't grateful at all for anything."

"She's just a kid!" Nagisa shot back, feeling his chest grow taut. "And if you bothered to pay attention, you'd see that it has improved. She needs someone to believe in her."

"No offense, Nagisa," a voice cut in. It was Nakamura stepping forward, her blue eyes similar to that of a shark's. "But I've heard you say that about a lot of things that never change."

"Not to mention, that it doesn't have to be your obligation to do everything for her," Kayano chimed in hesitantly.

"Honestly, I just don't get how you can even be around her for too long," Terasaka added. "She's so annoying."

"Enough!" Nagisa snapped loudly, feeling a familiar venom shoot up inside of him. It settled into his veins, on a pathway to pump inside of his heart.

All of his friends stiffened, but he couldn't bring himself to care at that moment. He continued sharply, "You know, this hubris you guys have...is what caused us to be in this situation in the first place."

He shook his head. "You just never learn your lesson, do you? You're all trashing on this literal child, when she's just like us!"

"Nagisa-" Sugino tried to interject, but Nagisa stopped him.

"We've been treated like losers. We've been talked down to by almost every adult in our lives." His voice got louder as his chest tightened. "We know what it's like to feel hopeless! And that's exactly how Sakura feels, so why don't you want to fix that?!"

Kayano was the first to lower her head.

"You know, we're lucky. Just because we have a crazy teacher and get to learn about assassination with cool gadgets doesn't change who we are," he continued. "We're still students who struggle. We're normal people who have failed but we got back up on our feet. We know we can do better. But lately, we've just been acting like the same people who treat us like crap!"

He let out a heavy breath. "And come on guys..." He lifted his gaze to meet theirs. "Let's not act like we're any better. I mean, look at how immature and bratty we've been!"

He gestured to Nakamura. "The first thing you tried to say after we were caught was that it was Matsukata's fault for being there."

The blonde flinched.

He turned to Terasaka, leveling his gaze with his. "And you almost blew me up on the first day of school for money!" He let his words out in one breathless laugh."

He turned towards Sugino. "And dude? You said some pretty mean stuff back when we first got Ritsu."

Both guys averted their gazes, their mouths downturned.

Nagisa sighed. "The point is, that we're not perfect. We've come a long way, but we've made mistakes and we can accept that. So please extend that energy towards this 12-year old who genuinely needs support."

The anger inside him had cooled down now, like how lava and molten rock gradually formed into solid rock. He watched his friends pensively. They all wore expressions of guilt and shame.

"You're right, man," Sugino said quietly. "I'm sorry." The others followed suit, and Nagisa felt a weight relieve his shoulders.

"Just..." Nagisa brushed back his bangs. "Give her a chance, guys. She's more than just an ungrateful brat."

"Of course, Nagisa," Kayano offered him a tiny smile, which he returned.

"And," Nagisa straightened up and fixed his gaze on Sugino. "You better wait to visit that comic shop until I'm free."

We're okay. I forgive you.

Sugino's lips turned up. "Sure, man."

[imaginesupply]

Sore backs and tented shorts, or  The one where Tom gets a massage

Tom Hiddleston x Reader one-shot 

It’s been ages since I’ve written anything and I’m feeling a bit rusty but inspiration just hit and my three remaining braincells - who’ve survived the current heatwave so far - came up with this smutty filth. 

I hope you’ll enjoy! Let me know what you think :) (It’s proofread but it seems by ability to spot typos and mistakes rises by 200% percent as soon as I hit post.)

Word count: About 2.6k

Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), improper uses of the word ‘God’ and unrealistic descriptions of massages. 

---

Tom stretched, trying to pop the knots on his back, as he sat down to rest between scenes. Maybe he was getting old, too old for this, Tom pondered for a second before mentally slapping himself on the face. Who was he kidding? Loki was a role he'd never give up on, as in never ever. 

So if that meant performing the various stunts himself for authenticity's sake and suffering through it, he would do it, without complaining.

He stretched once more, giving the battered script one last read before getting ready to shoot the next scene of the series.

The camera crew adjusted the filming angles while the make up artist powdered his face, making sure there was no excessive shine to his skin. Loki would certainly not break a sweat running away from a building he himself set on fire and throwing himself on the ground with a grin just a second before it all exploded. 

Yes, Loki would undoubtedly be grinning in that situation, Tom reckoned. The human, however, tried not to flinch as he realised he'd have to run and throw himself on the mattress with all his strength, again and again. The mattress was certainly softer than the ground they'd CGI into the scene, but his body was also certainly more breakable than Loki's.

One hour later, Tom was spent. Letting himself collapse on the blue stunt mattress, he was relieved that everyone had finally agreed that the take had been perfect - the grin, the hair, the elegance. The only thing he wanted now was to hurry home and sleep. Maybe he could ever delay his shower to the next morning if he changed the sheets upon waking up, he negotiated with himself.

"Hey, you okay?" 

Tom opened an eye only to find Kate crouched over him, a frown obscuring her features. "Yeah, I'm just feeling a little worn down, that's all."

Kate nodded to herself. For a second she felt guilty she was asking too much of him, but then they'd both agreed that they wanted the series to be perfect, whatever it took. "You were great back there."

His eyes were already closing again and he only nodded noncommittally. "Anyway, I suggest you go take a shower. The message therapist I booked for you is already setting up."

Tom sat up in a flash, his back protesting the movement. "That's very kind but I'm alright, no need for-"

"Be ready in ten minutes unless you want to be late," Kate interrupted him, challenging his British punctuality. He opened his mouth again, but she waved him off, knowing what he was going to say. "Bobby has been fed and walked. He's lying outside right now with part of the crew, enjoying the last sun rays of the day." 

Tom cursed internally and got up, feeling outsmarted. This was not something he was looking forward to but he'd be damned if he showed up late.

"Also, this will be routine until we finish shooting." Kate added quietly before running off.

--- Water droplets ran down his back as he stepped out of the shower, a white towel wrapped low around his hips. Sighing, he cleaned some of the fog on the mirror with his hand and then proceeded to tumble dry his black hair before adding some nourishing product to it. 

It was only then that he remembered he had no change of clothes with him, more specifically underwear, since he always preferred showering at home. Contemplating his clothes on the back of the chair, he concluded that he didn't have many options unless he wanted to put on the boxers briefs he had worn all day or go nude. Tom chuckled to himself at the latter thought, already imagining a young male therapist telling him to take his English countryside back over the pond. Deciding not to make the person he'd have to see for the next month uncomfortable on the very first day, Tom pulled on the black running shorts he had worn to set that morning, going commando underneath.

--- 

One minute late, Tom knocked on the door to the infirmary. 

"Come on in." A voice replied. A feminine voice to be exact. Not what he had expected.

Obeying the lady, Tom opened the door and let himself in, his eyes landing on his new massage therapist for the very first time. Clearly not what he had expected. Tom swallowed, using his acting skills to appear nonchalant even as he subtly - or at least, as subtly as was possible in such small quarters - eyed the woman in front of him. 

Her hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, revealing the elegant curve of her neck. She was wearing a tight fitting white t-shirt with equally white yoga pants. A look of purity all in all though it had his mind immediately wandering to the realms of exquisitely impure thoughts.

"Hi! I'm (Y/N). Nice to meet you, Tom," she introduced herself, stretching out her hand for him to shake. "Oh! Do you mind me calling you Tom? I can also go for Mister Hiddleston if you prefer."

Tom suppressed a groan, there was always something about being called that that got his mind spinning. Chastising himself, he shook her hand, flexing his biceps more than was necessary. Her hand was soft and warm and small, exactly what he needed. "Nice to meet you, (Y/N). Please do call me Tom. We'll be seeing each other quite a lot after all."

She nodded, smiling kindly before telling him to lie down on the massage table. Tom noticed that it was in fact surprisingly wide, but didn't think much of it. Maybe Kate was right, he needed this. His body undeniably did and if he were honest, he had been craving the touch of another human, feeling rather lonely as of late. Most of his friends were back in London, and those that weren't, were still too far away. As for a different kind of touch, a woman's company to be more exact, he couldn't remember the last time he had being blessed with it either. Definitely before Atlanta, he concluded. 

He barely heard her move around, her naked feet making little to no noise on the floor. "We will do a combination of deep tissue and Thai massage today, so that I can determine your problem areas for the next time."

Tom was in fact aware of a very problematic area of his but decided to spare her the dirty joke. He just didn't realise quite yet how problematic that area was in fact going to become.

(Y/N) came to a stop in front him, he could feel her presence as she warmed the oil between her palms before finally gliding her hands over the skin of his back. Tom couldn't help the pleasurable hum that escaped his lips as she started working out the knots on his back, some of them loosening under her touch with an audible crack that had her chuckling. God, even her voice was perfect. Dozing off was becoming more and more tempting to Tom, his eyelids feeling heavier than ever when she bent forward over his body to reach farther down his back. He felt her breasts press against him as she did so, the back of his head suddenly encompassed between them. Yes, there was the bra and then that pesky t-shirt between her chest and his skin but his body didn't seem to care. Not even one bit.

Clenching his teeth, Tom felt blood rush down to his once again problematic area. The fact that his dick was squished under him only served to make the situation all the more uncomfortable. Tom groaned, wether from arousal or frustration, he wasn't sure.

"Are you okay, Tom? Did I hurt you?" (Y/N) asked with concern. 

Tom swallowed nervously. "No, don't worry. Your hands feel great."

She moved away from him, the weight of breasts gone and he breathed out in relief. That is, until he heard her climb onto the massage table with him.

What the-? It was then that he remembered what a Thai message entailed from a vague conversation he'd once had with Ben and Sophie.

Before he could come up with a way to get out of this... predicament, (Y/N) straddled his hips and all but sat down on his butt. His cock immediately reacted to change in pressure.

"You've got quite a knot here," she explained, softly rubbing her fingers near his spine, about halfway up his back. "I'm going to try and break up the knotted tissue. Tell me if it hurts too much."

It did hurt, the way the heel of her hand pressed against the sensitive area. But it definitely didn't hurt enough to kill his arousal. If anything, it made it worse with the way he felt her weight shift above him whenever she moved. Instead of relaxing, he was only growing more tense. 

As Tom felt precum bead on his glans as she climbed off of him, having him feel equally disappointed and relieved when she went to work on his legs.

Her hands felt heavenly, sometimes painfully heavenly, as they moved over his calves. Not that it is eased his arousal, but Tom was confident that the massage was almost done and he'd soon be able to climb into the shower again and use the opportunity to wank himself to an orgasm. 

He'd certainly think of her as he'd stroke his shaft later, imagining she was there with him. Water running down her body, rendering her obscene white t-shirt transparent, her nipples visibly pebbling even behind two layers of fabric. His cock seemed to enjoy his fantasy as well, now so hard that Tom seriously started considering rubbing himself on the towel draped over the table to find some relief.

His thoughts were interrupted when she moved over his knees, to his his thighs. Her delicate fingers folding back his shorts to reveal more of his legs. Tom jerked suddenly, trying to hide his erection from her hands and crushing it under his belly in the process. He winced. 

Undoubtedly sensing Tom was tensing up again, (Y/N) made quick work of his thighs. Maybe he was a bit shy and didn't like being touched there, she reckoned, shrugging to herself to hide her disappointment. She'd always enjoyed her job, finding satisfaction in other people's well-being. But massaging Tom Hiddleston? She would have done it for free (don't tell her boss!).

"Please turn around, Tom." She said softly after finishing up the back of his legs

He startled. "What?!" Came his terrified voice. 

(Y/N) frowned. "Can you please lie down on your back now? So that I can work on your chest and the front of your legs."

Tom stilled, silently panicking. "That won't be necessary. It's quite late and I'm feeling much better already."

"Nonsense. I won't leave you unfinished," she protested, his cock twisting her words. "Besides, my boss would kill me if she ever found out I left a client halfway through a massage."

His jaw clenched. He was torn between two equally bad options, but in the end, he inner gentleman couldn't stand to be the one to jeopardise her job.

Slowly, Tom turned around on the table, still hoping that his erection wouldn't be as noticeable as it felt but the tent in his shorts was impossible to hide, sticking straight up to the ceiling.

She stared at his face curiously, observing his reddening cheeks before lowering her gaze. "Oh," she gasped.

Somehow, part of him had hoped her reaction would have been less shocked and perhaps a bit more pleased. As it was, she just stood there like that and he threw his forearm over his eyes, hoping it would lessen the embarrassment. It didn't.Sighing, he made a move to get up, hesitating whether he should apologise before leaving or if that would only make things worse.

The weight shifted on the massage table as she climbed on top, joining him on the soft padding.

Instantly, Tom lifted his head off the pillow, holding himself up on his forearms, bewilderedly watching Y/N as she knelt between his legs. "What are you doing?" He asked, his voice croaky, his eyes glued to her décolleté which the neckline failed to hide in this position. 

She looked up at him slowly, coyly, though her grin was nothing if not provocative. "Hoping to release all tension in your body," she replied, her tongue peeking through as her hands went to his hips, thumbs drawing circles over his shorts. "If you'll let me, that is." 

Tom swallowed audibly, almost expecting her to throw her head back and start laughing. But she never did. Instead, she sat back on her haunches, waiting for him to consent. "God. Yes, please!" He breathed out, his British accent growing thicker.

(Y/N) licked her lips, fingers working behind her head to tighten her ponytail. "Now that's more like it, Mister Hiddleston."

Without missing a second, she bend forward, lowering her face to place a kiss on his stomach, just below his belly button. Tom's muscles tensed in response, already looking forward to what was to come.

He struggled between the desire to watch and the impulse to lean back and simply enjoy. She made the decision for him, her hand pressing down on his sternum before moving her attention back to his groin.

Tom hissed as he felt her lips kiss the head of his cock through the lightweight fabric. His body suddered, his cock throbbed and she chuckled. (Y/ N) repeated the process a few more times, enjoying the teasing. Then, she moved her fingers to the elastic waistband and pulled his shorts down, grazing his buttocks with her nails. 

His cock sprang free, hitting his lower stomach a couple of times and Tom already felt a drop of precum slide down from the glans to his belly button. (Y/N) surprised him, first neglecting his weeping cock in favour of his balls, sucking them into her mouth one after the other, teasing them with the tip of her tongue.

Tom groaned her name, squirming beneath her and thrusting up. With a smile, (Y/N) decided to give in. She traced the tip of her nose along his length until reaching the head and then wrapped her tongue around the glans, teasing the frenulum. Tom moaned loudly 

He felt her hand wrap around the base of his cock before she took him in her mouth, as much as would fit. Instantly, his hand settled on the back of her head, caressing instead of pushing. "Just like that, darling."

She took to humming around his length, intermittently sucking in her cheeks and Tom started feeling the telltale tightening in his groin faster than he should. His hand gripped her ponytail harder, alerting her but her movements didn't slow. Tom propped himself up on his elbows, groaning at the sinful sight of debauchery in front of him.

"I'm close," he managed to warn her through clenched teeth. (Y/N) looked up at him, never halting her movements and the mischievous look she addressed him revealed that she knew exactly what she was doing.

Tom dug his heels against the padding of the table, canting up his hips and thrusting up in her mouth as his orgasm washed over him. (Y/N)meticulously sucked him clean, swallowing down rope after rope of his cum whilst humming around him.

"God, (Y/N). That was..." For once he was left without words, still dizzy with pleasure in the aftermath of his orgasm.

She licked his cum off her lips, taking in the sight in front of her with a smile, acutely aware of her own arousal. Tom's chest was flushed, heaving as he fought to regain his breath, his eyes still closed.

It was only then that she realised what she had done. She had blown Tom Hiddleston - a client.