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natsaffection · 1 month

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Wait and Hope. Pt 3 | N.R

Warnings: Hospital stay, coma, broken hearts, Wasting food

Word count: 10,9k

A/n: Aaand here us the final part! Thank you again Anon for this great Idea. 🩵

Natasha leaned against the wall, her knees threatening to give way as the adrenaline that had kept her going slowly began to fade. She knew she had to stay strong, had to pull herself together. For you, for the kids, but as she watched the doctors, the terrible reality of the situation fully dawned on her. The words of her children echoed in her mind, Lilas angry question, Jacob’s heartbreaking plea, Mia’s frightened sobbing. How was she ever going to explain this? How could she make them understand that you might not wake up, that the woman who had fought so hard to be their mother might be taken from them before they had truly let you into their lives?

Natasha closed her eyes, resting her head against the cold, sterile wall, and whispered a silent prayer, a prayer that you would fight, that you would survive, that you would come back to them. Because the alternative was too horrific to contemplate. The waiting was unbearable. Every time the door to the infirmary opened, Natasha’s heart jumped into her throat, only to be shattered again when it was just another nurse or passing doctor. She couldn’t sit still, couldn’t find any semblance of calm in the storm of emotions raging inside her. Fear, guilt, anger..all swirled together, threatening to overwhelm her.

The sterile smell of disinfectant in the air only intensified her fear, mixing with the metallic scent of blood that still clung to her hands, no matter how many times she scrubbed them. Your blood. She could still feel its warmth, still see how it had soaked your clothes, staining them a deep, merciless red. Her mind replayed the moment over and over when you threw yourself in front of the bullets, how you had crumpled to the ground, your eyes wide with shock and pain. Natasha squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push the image away, but it was burned into her memory, a nightmare that wouldn’t let go.

“Why did you do it?” she whispered into the empty hallway, her voice heavy with unshed tears. But even as she asked the question, she knew the answer. You did it because you loved her. Because you couldn’t bear the thought of a world without Natasha. For the same reason Natasha had so often pushed herself to the limit in the past, risking everything to protect the people she loved. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier. On the contrary, it only made the guilt worse.

She couldn’t stop the memories that flooded her mind. Memories of you, so vivid and real that it felt like you were right beside her. She remembered the first time they met, how your smile had lit up the room and disarmed Natasha in a way she hadn’t thought possible. Back then, she had been so closed off, so determined to keep everyone at a distance. But you had broken through all of that, your warmth and kindness slipping through her defenses like water through a crack in a dam.

Then there were all those countless moments of quiet joy they had shared. The lazy Sunday mornings spent together in bed, the sound of your laughter filling the air as they chased the kids around the park, the gentle, stolen kisses in the early hours before the world woke up. You had given Natasha a life she never thought she could have, a family she never believed she deserved.

But now, all of that hung by a thread. A thin, fragile thread that could snap at any moment.

Steve stood nearby, his presence a silent offer of support, but Natasha couldn’t look at him. She knew what he would say words of comfort, reassurances that you would pull through, but she didn’t want to hear it. She couldn’t bear the empty phrases, not when every second felt like a countdown to disaster. “Natasha-” Steve began quietly, his voice filled with concern.

“Don’t.” Natasha snapped, her voice sharp, barely able to keep her emotions in check. “Just..don’t.” Steve fell silent, his brow furrowing in worry, but he respected her need for space. He watched as she resumed her frantic pacing, unable to do more than be there for her. He knew Natasha was spiraling, but there was nothing he could say to pull her out of it.

Every time Natasha thought about what had happened, the guilt nearly consumed her. You had taken those bullets for her. And why? Because you believed-no, you *knew* that the kids needed Natasha more. That they loved Natasha more. That was the brutal truth she could no longer avoid. You had felt like you were losing the children, that they preferred Natasha, and that’s why you did it. The memory of your voice, so weak and filled with pain, echoed in Natasha’s head. “Im so proud of you.”

Those words had been like a knife in Natasha’s heart, cutting deeper with every breath. She had known, in some way, that you had been feeling distant from the kids lately. But she had never realized just how much that distance weighed on you, how much it had pushed you to the edge. You had sacrificed yourself because you thought it was the only way to keep the family together, the only way to make sure the kids wouldn’t grow up without the parent they loved most. And that thought..the knowledge that you felt that way, that you believed Natasha was the better, more needed parent was enough to make Natasha’s breath catch, her heart pounding with guilt and fear.

“What am I supposed to tell them?” Natasha whispered, her voice trembling as she finally stopped pacing and leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down to the floor. She buried her face in her hands, the tears she had been holding back finally breaking free. Steve knelt beside her, his hand hovering near her shoulder, not quite touching. “They love you, Natasha.” he said softly. “They’re kids. They don’t understand-”

“They understand more than you think.” Natasha interrupted, her voice bitter and filled with pain. “They’ve made it clear who they love more. They hardly listen to [Your Name] anymore. They push her away. And now..now she’s the one lying there, fighting for her life because she thought they didn’t need her.” Steve hesitated, then finally rested his hand on Natasha’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “They’re scared, Nat. They’re kids. They don’t know how to deal with everything that’s happened, and sometimes..sometimes kids take out their anger on the people they love because they don’t know how to handle those feelings.”

Natasha shook her head, tears streaming down her face as she looked up at Steve, her eyes filled with despair. “But what if it’s too late? What if she never hears them say they love her again? What if..what if she-?" The thought was too much for her, and Natasha crumbled, sobbing into her hands as the weight of everything came crashing down on her. You had been so brave, so selfless, and now you were lying on that operating table, your life hanging in the balance, all because you believed you weren’t enough for the family you loved so much.

“I should have done more..” Natasha choked out, her voice breaking between sobs. “I should have made sure she knew how much she meant to me, how much she meant to all of us. I should have..I should have seen how much she was hurting.”

Steve pulled her into a gentle embrace, his strong arms wrapping around her as she cried. “It’s not your fault, Nat." he whispered, even though he knew his words wouldn’t take away her guilt. “Y/n knows how much you love her. She knows how much you need her. That’s why she fought so hard. And that’s why she’ll keep fighting.” But Natasha couldn’t shake the sense of doom that had settled in her chest. She clung to Steve, her sobs slowly subsiding into quiet, painful breaths as she tried to find some strength in his words.

After what felt like an eternity, the door to the infirmary finally opened, and Natasha held her breath. Dr. Cho stepped out, her expression exhausted and serious, her scrubs stained with your blood, a sight that sent a fresh wave of nausea through Natasha. “Hey.” she began softly, gently, as if she feared the wrong tone might shatter Natasha completely.

Natasha pulled away from Steve, got to her feet on trembling legs, and faced Cho, her heart pounding so hard she feared it might burst from her chest. “How is she?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. Dr. Cho sighed, her face reflecting the gravity of the situation. “We were able to remove the bullets and stop the bleeding. But she’s in a coma. Her condition is critical, and we don’t know how long it will be before she wakes up- if she wakes up.”

Natasha felt as if the ground had opened up beneath her. She swayed slightly, her vision blurred as Cho’s words echoed in her mind. “Coma.” The word felt like a death sentence, a slow, agonizing torture she didn’t know if she could survive. “But she’s alive?” Natasha asked, her voice trembling as she clung to the smallest spark of hope. Cho nodded. “Yes, she’s alive. But she’s not stable. It’s a delicate balance, and all we can do now is wait and hope.”

"Wait and hope." The words felt like a cruel joke. Natasha had always been a woman of action, someone who did everything in her power to protect the people she loved. But now, she could do nothing but stand here helpless, while you fought for your life in that cold, sterile room. Steve placed a hand on Natasha's shoulder again, but she pulled away, shaking her head. "I need to see her." she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I need to be with her."

Cho nodded, her understanding evident in her tone. "You can see her, but be prepared..she's hooked up to several machines and won't be able to respond." Natasha didn't care. She just needed to be near you, to hold your hand and tell you that you weren't alone, that you were loved, even if you couldn't hear it. Dr. Cho led Natasha into the infirmary, where the steady beeping of monitors and the soft hum of machines filled the air. Natasha's heart broke all over again when she saw you lying there, so still and fragile, your skin pale and lifeless against the stark white sheets.

Slowly, she approached the bed, her legs feeling as if they might give way at any moment. The sight of you, connected to so many machines, was almost unbearable. Natasha had always known you were strong, stronger than you ever gave yourself credit for, but seeing you like this, so vulnerable, tore her heart into a thousand pieces. Gently, she took your hand in hers, feeling the coolness of your skin, the slight tremor running through her own fingers as she held on to you. "I'm here, Y/n.." she whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm right here. Please..please come back to me. The kids..they need you. I need you."

But there was no response, just the steady beeping of the heart monitor, the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest as the ventilator did its work. Natasha sat down on the chair beside the bed, her eyes never leaving your face as she whispered words of love and hope, praying with every fiber of her being that you could hear her, that you would wake up, that they would have another chance to make things right.

The days after your surgery blurred together in a haze of fear and waiting. You remained in a coma, your condition stable but unchanged, and the uncertainty slowly gnawed at Natasha. She spent every possible moment by your side, clutching your still-cool fingers, whispering words of love and encouragement, begging you to wake up. Every day, Natasha brought the kids to see you, a routine that had become her way of coping with the uncertainty. Lila, Jacob, and Mia each dealt with it in their own way, but Natasha knew that being near you, even if you couldn't respond, was helping them process their feelings.

Today was no exception. As they entered the quiet room where you lay, the steady beeping of the heart monitor the only sound, Natasha felt that familiar tug in her chest. She led the children to your bedside, her eyes never leaving your pale, peaceful face. Jacob, who had been standing silently beside Lila, stepped closer, his face twisted with worry. He hesitated for a moment, then placed his small hand on yours, his voice trembling as he spoke. "Please wake up, Y/n.." he whispered. "I..I don't want you to be hurt any longer. We all want you to come home."

Mia, who was clutching a piece of paper in her little hands, stepped forward next. She had been drawing pictures for you every day, leaving them on the nightstand beside your bed, as if they could somehow help you heal. Today, Mia had drawn a picture of her family, a simple, colorful drawing of five stick figures holding hands, with a big, bright sun overhead. Natasha, you, Lila, Jacob, and Mia were all there, smiling and happy. "Look, I made this for you." Mia said softly, her voice full of hope. She carefully placed the picture on the bed next to you. "This is us. See?" Natasha's heart swelled with emotion as she watched Mia interact with you. Mia had been distant for so long, hesitant to build a connection with you the way she had with Natasha. But here she was, so small and innocent, offering you her love and support in the best way she knew how.

As Mia stepped back, Natasha noticed something on the picture that took her breath away. Above the stick figure representing you, in Mia's careful, childlike handwriting, were the words "Mama." "Mia.." Natasha whispered, her voice trembling as she knelt down to her daughter. "Did you write 'Mama' on your picture?"

Mia nodded, her eyes shining with a mix of pride and uncertainty. "Yes.." she said softly. "She's my mama too, right?" Tears welled up in Natasha's eyes, and she pulled Mia into a tight hug, her heart aching with love for her daughter and the woman who had fought so hard to become part of their family. "Yes, she is." Natasha whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "She's your mama too, and she loves you very much. I know she'll be so happy when she sees your picture."

Mia sniffled, nodding as she hugged Natasha back. "I hope it helps her wake up.." she murmured. "Come on.." Natasha said gently, guiding them softly toward the door. "It's time for Mama to rest." As they left the room, Natasha cast one last glance at you, lying peacefully in the hospital bed, Mia's drawing still beside you. The sight of the lovingly written word "Mama" filled Natasha with renewed hope.

In the following days, Lila was constantly drawn to the hospital room. She sat in the corner, watching your motionless form, as your chest rose and fell with each labored breath. At first, Lila kept her distance, arms crossed, her face set in a mask of indifference. But inside, her emotions were a storm, battling between fear and guilt.

One evening, after another long day of waiting and worrying, Lila couldn't take it anymore. She found Natasha in the hallway, looking more exhausted and broken than ever before. Lila's chest tightened as she saw Natasha run a hand through her hair, her usually sharp eyes dulled with sorrow. Lila approached her slowly, her voice trembling as she spoke. "I need to know what happened." she said, her words filled with a desperate need for answers. "You're here every day, and I see you suffering. But I need to know why. What happened that day? What really happened to Y/n?"

Natasha looked at Lila, her heart aching at the pain in her daughter's eyes. She had tried to shield Lila from the full truth, wanting to protect her from the horrors of that day. But she could see that Lila needed to know, that not knowing was eating her up inside. Natasha took a deep breath, nodded, and led Lila to a quiet corner of the hospital where they could talk undisturbed. She didn't know how to start, how to put into words the events that had shaken their lives.

"It was like any other mission..." Natasha began, her voice trembling slightly. "We knew it was dangerous, but we had no choice. Things went wrong from the start, and by the time we realized it, it was too late. We were ambushed, and I..." Natasha paused, her throat tightening as she remembered the moment that haunted her every waking thought. "An agent aimed his gun at me, and I couldn't move..."

Lila watched Natasha closely, her heart pounding as she listened. The image of her mother, the strong and fearless Natasha Romanoff, cornered and helpless. Natasha continued, her voice breaking. "But Y/n..she saw what was happening. She didn't hesitate. She jumped in front of me and took the bullets. She..she saved my life." The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of the truth. Lila felt the ground shift beneath her as the full impact of what Natasha had said hit her. Y/n had nearly died because she chose to protect Natasha. The realization was like a hammer blow to her heart. "She did that..for you?" Lila whispered, her voice barely audible. "But..but why?"

"Because she loves us." Natasha replied, her voice trembling with emotion. "Because she wanted to protect me, to protect all of us. She wasn't thinking about herself, only about keeping us safe." Lila's eyes filled with tears as she looked away, unable to meet Natasha's gaze. "It's my fault." she choked out, her voice shaking with guilt. "If I..if I had made her feel like she belonged, maybe she wouldn't have felt like she had to prove herself. Maybe she wouldn't have gotten hurt, maybe.."

"Lila, no." Natasha said quickly, reaching out to her. But Lila pulled away, her emotions boiling over. "It's my fault!" Lila cried, her voice rising with the pain she felt. "I made her feel like an outsider! I pushed her away, and now..now she's lying in that bed because of me!" Natasha's heart broke at the sight of Lila's pain, but before she could say anything, Lila turned and ran, tears streaming down her face. Natasha called after her, but Lila didn't stop. She couldn't bear it, couldn't face the reality of what had happened, of what she believed she had caused. Lila ran until her legs gave out and collapsed in a secluded area of the hospital, her body shaking with sobs. She didn’t know how long she sat there, crying into her hands, overwhelmed by the crushing weight of her guilt. All she could think about was how she had pushed you away, how she had refused to let you in, and yet you had sacrificed everything to protect your family..

The next evening, Natasha lay on the small, uncomfortable couch pushed into a corner of the room, her eyes closed, though sleep continued to elude her as usual. Ever since you had been brought here, she had refused to leave your side, sleeping only in short, restless intervals on that couch, always ready to be there if you showed even the smallest sign of waking.

Earlier in the day, Mia had brought you another of her drawings, proudly showing off the colorful picture with "Mama" carefully written above the stick figure representing you. It was a moment of bittersweet hope, one that filled Natasha with a mix of pride and sadness. She had kissed her children goodnight and watched them leave with Maria. Maria had also informed Natasha that Lila was safely in her room and not coming out. As the hours passed, Natasha’s thoughts swirled in a fog of memories and what-ifs. She tried to focus on the rhythm of your breathing, the steady rise and fall of your chest, and hoped it was a sign that you were fighting your way back. But despite her exhaustion, her mind refused to rest, her thoughts repeatedly returning to the same fear. That you might never wake up.

Then, in the silence, Natasha’s finely tuned instincts picked up the faint sound of the door opening. Her eyes snapped open, her body tensing automatically, but she didn’t move. She recognized the sound of those steps, the cautious way they moved across the floor.

Lila.

Natasha forced herself to stay still, to keep her breathing steady, and pretended to sleep as she listened to her Daughter sneak into the room. Lila moved quietly to your bedside, and Natasha heard the soft scrape of a chair being pulled closer to the bed. There was a long pause, and Natasha could almost feel the weight of Lilas emotions filling the room. She kept her eyes closed, her heart clenching as she realized what this moment meant for you both.

“I don’t understand you..” Lila whispered, her voice breaking the silence. She wasn’t sure if you could even hear her, but she had to say it, had to let the words out. “Why did you do it? You barely know us, and I was nothing but a burden.”

She felt the familiar sting of tears in her eyes but blinked them away. “I don’t understand why I matter to you so much.” she continued, her voice trembling. “You keep trying, even when I push you away. You don’t give up on me, even when I’ve been awful to you.” Lila’s voice caught in her throat. “I’m s-sorry..” Then the tears came, hot and fast, and Lila didn’t try to hold them back. She had kept everything bottled up for so long, afraid to let it out, but now she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I’m so sorry I pushed you away..” Lila went on, her voice breaking as she spoke. “I was scared, scared that you’d leave if I let you in, just like everyone else. But I was wrong. You didn’t leave. You stayed, even when I was awful, even when I didn’t deserve it.” Natasha bit her lip, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. She knew how hard you had fought to build a connection with Lila, how much it hurt you that she kept you at a distance.

“I was so stupid..” Lila admitted, her voice shaking. “I wouldn’t let myself love you because I was too scared.” She angrily wiped away the tears, frustrated with herself. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for being so difficult, for not letting you in. I..I just didn’t know how. But I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to lose you.” Lila took a trembling breath, her hands shaking as she reached for your hand. It was warm but limp in her grasp, a reminder of how fragile life is. She gently squeezed it as if willing you to wake up, to respond, to give her a sign that you were still there.

“Please, Mama..” Lila whispered, the word slipping out before she could stop it. It felt strange on her tongue, but also right, as if it had been waiting to be spoken. “I’m so scared of losing you before I ever really showed you.”

There was a long pause, the room filled with the weight of her confession. Natasha’s heart ached for both of you, for you, who had fought so hard to be accepted, and for Lila, who was finally realizing how much you meant to her. And now, hearing her call you “Mama” for the first time, knowing how much it would have meant to you if you could hear it, was almost too much to bear. “You were always my Mama..” Lila whispered, her voice breaking. “I just didn’t know how to say it. I love you, and I need you to wake up. Please, Mama..please wake up. Mom, Mia, Jacob..and I..we need you here.”

For a moment, there was only silence, and then..something changed. A gentle, almost imperceptible movement. Natasha’s heart skipped a beat, her breath catching as she heard a faint rustling from the bed. Lila must have noticed it too because she fell silent, her breath hitching as she looked down at you. “M-Mama?” she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of hope and fear.

Natasha’s eyes widened, her heart pounding in her chest as she saw it..your hand, the fingers twitching slightly. It was small, barely noticeable, but it was enough. Natasha was on her feet in an instant, crossing the room in a fraction of a second. “Lila, stay with her.” Natasha ordered, her voice tense with emotion as she reached for the call button to summon the doctor. “I’ll get Helen.” Lilas eyes were wide, her hand still holding yours, her grip tightening as she saw your eyelids flutter. “Mom..is she..?”

“She’s waking up, Lila." Natasha whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and disbelief. “She’s waking up.” Before she could say more, the door to the room flew open, and Cho rushed in, her face a mixture of professional calm and urgency. Natasha stepped back to give Cho space, but she stayed close, her heart hammering in her chest. Cho leaned over you, her hands moving with practiced precision as she checked your vitals, her eyes fixed on your face. “Y/n, can you hear me? If you can hear me, try to open your eyes.”

For a moment, nothing happened, and Natasha felt her heart clench with fear. But then, slowly, painfully, your eyelids fluttered again, this time with more intent. Your fingers twitched in Lilas hand, and she gasped, her eyes wide with shock and hope. “Mama?” Lila whispered again, her voice trembling.

Your eyes opened just a sliver, your gaze unfocused, but you were trying, trying to come back to them. Natasha felt tears streaming down her face, and she quickly wiped them away, not wanting to miss a single moment of this miracle. Dr. Cho smiled softly, a look of relief spreading across her face. “That’s it, Y/n.” she encouraged. “Keep your eyes open. You’re doing great.”

Your eyes slowly began to focus, your gaze searching the room until it landed on your Daughters face, who was looking down at you with a mix of awe and love. “Hey, Mama..” Lila repeated, her voice breaking as she gently squeezed your hand. “I’m here. We’re all here.”

Your lips parted, and although no sound came out at first, the effort was clear. Natasha watched with bated breath as your gaze finally met Lilas, recognition flickering in your tired but living eyes.. “Lila.." your voice was barely more than a whisper, hoarse from the long silence, but it was the most beautiful sound Natasha had ever heard. Lilas face crumpled with emotion, and she leaned down, gently pressing her forehead against yours. “You’re back. ” She whispered, her tears finally breaking free. “I’m so sorry..I love you so much..”

Natasha covered her mouth with her hand as she tried to hold back the sobs of relief and joy that threatened to overwhelm her. She had waited so long for this moment, had prayed for it, and now that it was finally here, it felt almost too good to be true. Your hand moved weakly in Lilas grasp, your gaze shifting to Natasha, who was looking down at you with love and gratitude despite your exhaustion. “Hey..” you breathed, your voice barely audible.

Natasha stepped forward, her legs trembling as she reached for your other hand. “I’m here.” she whispered, her voice full of emotion. “We’re all here, Y/n. We’re all here, and we’re not going anywhere.” Dr. Cho smiled gently at the sight and stepped back to give the family a moment. “She’s still very weak. She warned gently, "but this is a very good sign. We need to monitor her closely, but it looks like she's going to recover."

Natasha nodded, tears streaming down her face as she held your hand, gently stroking your knuckles. "Thank you." she whispered, though she wasn't sure if she was thanking Dr. Cho, the universe, or you. All that mattered was that you were here, that you had come back to them. Lila stayed close to you, her hand never leaving yours as she leaned in, his her soft and full of emotion. "We missed you. We need you." Your eyes fluttered shut again, your energy spent, but the small smile on your lips told Natasha everything she needed to know. You were going to get better. They were all going to get better.

The morning light gently filtered through the blinds of the hospital room, casting a warm glow over your bed. Natasha sat beside you, holding your hand gently, her eyes still red from the tears of relief she had shed the night before. You were awake, and although you were still weak, you had finally come back to them. It was a miracle Natasha had prayed for, and she couldn’t suppress the overwhelming feeling of gratitude that filled her heart every time she looked at your face.

You stirred slightly, your eyelids fluttering as you squeezed Natasha’s hand. "Morning.." you murmured, your voice still hoarse from the long silence. "Morning." Natasha replied, in an instant. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired.." you admitted, a small smile playing on your lips. "But better..especially because you’re here." Natasha leaned forward and gently kissed your forehead. "I’m not going anywhere." she promised. "The kids will be here soon. They’ve been so worried about you."

As if on cue, the door to the room opened, and the sound of small, excited footsteps filled the room. Mia was the first to burst into the room, her face lighting up when she saw you awake and sitting slightly upright in the bed. "Mama!!" Mia called out, running to the bed with outstretched arms. Before Natasha could stop her, Mia jumped onto the bed, her small body enthusiastically bumping against yours.

You groaned softly in pain, your body still tender and weak from the injuries you had sustained. Natasha’s heart skipped a beat, and she quickly moved to intervene. "Mia, sweetheart, be gentle.." Natasha said softly but firmly, pulling Mia back a little. "Mama is still very sore, okay?" Mia’s eyes widened with concern as she looked at you. "I’m sorry!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with worry. "I didn’t mean to hurt you!" You managed a weak smile and gently ran your fingers through Mia’s curly hair. "It’s okay, darling.." you whispered, your voice soft but full of love. "I’m just so happy to see you."

By then, Lila and Jacob had also entered the room, their faces glowing with relief as they saw you awake and smiling, even though you still looked a little pale. Lila, trying to be the responsible big Sister, held Jacob’s hand as they carefully approached the bed. "Hey, Ma," Lila said, her voice calm but full of emotion. "We missed you." Jacob nodded, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Yes, Mama.." he echoed, his voice trembling slightly. "We’re so glad you’re awake."

Your heart swelled as you looked at your children, their faces full of love and relief. Hearing them all call you "Mama" was like balm for your soul, healing wounds you had carried in your heart for so long. Mia, eager to show you everything she had worked on, pulled out the stack of drawings she had brought with her. "Mama, I made so many pictures for you while you were sleeping!" she said excitedly, holding them out to you. "Look! This one shows all of us together!"

You smiled warmly, taking the drawings from Mia’s small hands. You began flipping through them, admiring each one and listening as Mia explained the different scenes she had drawn. Each picture was a colorful explosion of love and innocence, capturing the world as Mia saw it. But then your hand paused as you reached a particular drawing, a simple picture of your family, all five of you standing together and smiling. Above the stick figure representing you, in Mia’s careful, childlike handwriting, was the word "Mama."

Your breath caught, your eyes filling with tears as you traced the letters with your finger. It was the first time Mia had called you "Mama" in any form, and seeing it now, so lovingly written in a drawing made just for you, filled you with a deep sense of belonging. "Mia.." you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "You..you called me Mama."

Mia nodded eagerly, her face beaming with pride. "Yes! Because you are my Mama!" she said, her voice full of conviction. You felt your heart swell, tears streaming down your face as you gently pulled Mia into a soft, careful hug. "Thank you, sweetheart." you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "It means the world to me." Natasha, who stood nearby, felt her own tears rising as she watched the scene. It was everything she had wished for, everything you had deserved for so long. Your family was coming together in a way that felt right, in a way that was healing not just you but everyone.

As you continued to flip through the drawings, Mia carefully climbed onto the bed next to you, this time making sure not to jostle you too much. "I’m going to draw you even more pictures.." Mia promised, her eyes shining with love. "I’ll draw as many as you want!" You smiled, your heart filled with love and gratitude. "I can’t wait to see them, darling." you said softly, kissing Mia gently on the head. Lila and Jacob moved closer, both leaning in carefully to give you a gentle hug. "We’re so glad you’re okay." Lila said, her voice quiet and sincere. "We missed you."

"I missed you too." you replied, your voice full of warmth as you looked at each of your children in turn. "I’m so proud of all of you. You were so brave, and I love you more than you’ll ever know." Natasha stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, her eyes filled with love and pride. "We’re all so proud of yo.," she whispered, her voice full of emotion. "You fought so hard to come back to us, and now..now we’re finally together."

You looked up at Natasha, your eyes brimming with tears of joy. "I couldn’t have done it without you." you whispered back. "Without all of you." The gentle hum of the medical equipment provided a soothing background as the children reluctantly left the hospital room, guided by Maria. They had spent the morning showering you with affection, and now it was time for Dr. Cho to conduct a routine examination. Natasha watched them go, a small smile on her lips as Mia blew you a kiss from the doorway.

When the door closed softly behind them, the room felt a bit emptier, though the warmth of the morning’s visit still lingered. Dr. Cho entered the room with her usual professional demeanor, her presence a calming anchor amid the emotional turmoil of the past days. “How are we doing today?” Dr. Cho asked kindly as she approached the bed.

“We’re doing good.” you replied with a grin, though your voice was still a bit weak. “I’ve got my whole team here taking care of me.” Dr. Cho smiled as she began her examination, checking vital signs and gently inspecting the wounds. Natasha stood nearby, arms crossed, her gaze fixed on you with a mixture of love and lingering concern in her eyes.

As Dr. Cho carefully removed the bandages to examine the healing wounds, you winced slightly in pain but forced a smile to lighten the mood. “You know, I was thinking..these scars are going to be pretty impressive trophies. I’ll be able to tell the kids I fought off an entire army of Hydra agents.” Dr. Cho chuckled softly as she continued her work. “Well, you certainly earned those scars. But let’s focus on getting you fully healed before you start collecting trophies, okay?”

You grinned, but the playful expression on your face didn’t reach Natasha, who was staring at the wounds, reliving the moment the bullets hit. She could still hear the sound of the shots, feel the panic as you collapsed, blood soaking through your clothes. The memories overwhelmed her. Your body hitting the ground, Natasha’s desperate screams for help, the overwhelming fear of losing you forever. Her breath hitched, and she had to force herself to stay in the present, to remember that you were here, alive, and on the road to recovery.

Sensing the sudden change in Natasha’s demeanor, you looked at her with concern. “Hey, Nat..” you said softly, your voice cutting through Natasha’s spiraling thoughts. “It’s okay. I’m here.” Natasha blinked, returning to the present, and quickly forced a smile, though her eyes were still shadowed by the memories. “I know.” she whispered, trying to sound reassuring, but she couldn’t hide the strain in her expression.

Dr. Cho finished her examination and gently re-bandaged the wounds. “The wounds are healing well.” she said, looking up at Natasha with a comforting smile. “She’s making good progress, but she still needs plenty of rest.”

“Thank you, Helen.” you said, giving a thumbs up, though your attention remained on Natasha. You could sense that something was wrong, that Natasha was holding something back, trying to stay strong. After Dr. Cho left, you looked at Natasha with a knowing gaze. “Come here..” you said softly, patting the spot next to you on the bed. “Lie down with me.”

Natasha hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded, unable to resist your gentle urging. She carefully climbed onto the bed, mindful of your injuries, and settled beside you. You shifted slightly, grimacing in pain, but you wrapped an arm around Natasha and pulled her close. Natasha let out a shaky breath, the warmth of your body grounding her in the present. She pressed her forehead against your shoulder and allowed herself to relax for the first time in days.

You gently stroked Natasha’s hair, your touch soothing. “Tell me..” you whispered. “What’s going on in your mind?” Natasha closed her eyes, taking in your familiar scent, the feel of your heartbeat against her own. “I..I keep seeing it..” she confessed, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I see you getting hit, hear the shots..I was so scared. I thought I was going to lose you.”

Your heart ached at the pain in Natasha’s voice. You held her tighter, your thumb tracing calming circles on her back. “But you didn’t lose me.” you said softly. “I’m here, Nat. I’m right here with you.”

“I know..” Natasha murmured, her voice trembling. “But it’s hard to let go of that. Every time I see those wounds, I can’t stop thinking about how close I was to losing you.” You sighed quietly, understanding the weight of those memories. “You were there for me when I needed you most, Nat. You got me to safety, you made sure I got here, and now I’m healing because of you. We’re going to get through this, okay?”

Natasha nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek as she buried her face in your shoulder. “I was so scared.” she whispered again, the confession coming from a place of deep vulnerability. “But I’m so grateful you’re here.” You kissed the top of Natasha’s head gently, your voice filled with love. “I’m grateful too. And I’m so proud of you, Nat. You were so strong for me, for the kids..I don’t know how I would have done it without you.”

You lay there in silence for a while, holding each other close, finding comfort in the nearness of the other. The trauma of the past days was still there, but in each other’s arms, you both found a sense of peace. After a few minutes, you spoke again, your voice gentle but curious. “How are the kids handling everything? I know they’ve visited me, but..how are they really doing?”

Natasha smiled softly, lifting her head to look at you. “They’re doing okay, all things considered. Lila has been incredible. Shes really stepped into the big sister role and has been taking care of Mia and Jacob. And Mia..she’s been bringing you those drawings every day, you know.” Your eyes softened at the mention of the drawings. “I saw the one yesterday.” you said, your voice filled with emotion. “The one where she called me ‘Mama.’ I couldn’t believe it.”

“She’s been calling you that ever since.” Natasha replied, her heart swelling with love. “And it’s not just her. Lila and Jacob..they’ve started calling you ‘Mama’ too.” Your eyes filled with tears, and you let out a shaky breath. “I never thought I’d hear that from them.”

Natasha smiled, wiping a tear from your cheek. “They love you. They’ve always loved you. I think..I think they just didn’t know how to show it until now.” You nodded, your heart full as you pulled Natasha closer. “I’m so glad I’m here to hear it.” you murmured. “I’m so glad I didn’t miss it.” You lay there for a while longer, wrapped tightly around each other on the small hospital bed, speaking softly about the children, your future, and the love that had carried you through the darkest times. The trauma was still there, but together, you found the strength to face it and heal.

Finally, the day had come. After weeks of recovery in the hospital, you were being discharged. Natasha stood by the window, watching as the morning sun streamed into the room, bathing everything in a golden light. It felt like a new beginning, a second chance you had all been waiting for.

You sat on the edge of the hospital bed, dressed in comfortable clothes Natasha had brought from home. There was a lightness in your eyes that hadn’t been there for weeks, a feeling of relief, of gratitude for the simple fact of going home. Cho had given you the all-clear, though she had thoroughly reminded you that you still needed plenty of rest and care. You were still weak, still healing, but the worst was behind you. Natasha packed up the few things you had accumulated during your hospital stay. A few books, some drawings the kids had brought, and a small bouquet of flowers Steve and the rest of the team had sent. She turned to you with a gentle smile. “Ready to go home?”

You looked up at Natasha, your eyes shining with emotion. “I’ve been ready since I woke up.” you said, your voice warm but tinged with the exhaustion that still clung to you. “I can’t wait to be home with you and the kids.” Natasha stepped closer, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “We’ve been waiting for this day too." she whispered. “They’re all so excited to have you back.”

At that moment, the door swung open, and the children burst in, their faces glowing with joy and anticipation. Mia was the first to reach you, practically bouncing with excitement. “Mama! You’re coming home today!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with enthusiasm. You grinned, stretching out your arms to embrace Mia, who snuggled against you. “Yes, I am.” you replied, your heart swelling with love as you saw the happiness in your daughter’s eyes. “And I can’t wait to spend the day with you.”

Jacob, with his usual calm demeanor, stepped forward next, his face bright with relief. “I’m glad you’re coming home, Mama.” he said softly, sliding his hand into yours. “We missed you so much.” Your eyes glistened with unshed tears as you squeezed Jacob’s hand gently. “I missed you too, sweetheart.” you whispered. “I’m so happy to be going home with you.”

Lila hesitated for a moment, her expression more reserved, but the emotion in her eyes was unmistakable. Finally, she approached you, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “It’s about time they let you out of here..” She said, trying to keep her tone light, but the relief in her voice was evident. You chuckled softly, “I know, right? I was starting to think they’d never let me go.” Natasha watched the exchange, her heart full of joy as she took in the sight of your reunited family. This was the moment she had been waiting for, the day when you could all be together again, without the shadow of fear hanging over you.

Dr. Cho entered the room, smiling warmly at your family. “Are we ready to go home?” she asked, her voice filled with encouraging brightness. You nodded, taking a deep breath. “More than ready.” you replied, your voice steady. Dr. Cho quickly went over the final instructions, reminding you to take it easy, get plenty of rest, and come in for follow-up appointments. Natasha listened intently, committing everything to memory. She was determined to make sure your recovery at home went smoothly.

With everything in place, Natasha helped you to your feet, supporting you as you took your first cautious steps. You leaned on her, grateful for her steady presence, but also determined to show your strength. You were ready to leave this place behind and begin the next chapter of your life. The children clustered around you, each of them eager to help in their own way. Lila carried your bag, while Jacob and Mia flanked you on either side, their small hands resting on your arms as if they were there to support you.

The walk to the car was slow, but it was filled with a sense of triumph. Every step you took was a victory, a reminder that you had survived the darkest days and were now on the path back to the life you loved.. During the drive home, the car was filled with chatter and laughter. The children couldn’t stop talking about all the things they wanted to do now that you were back home. Family movie nights, picnics in the park, and Mia was especially excited to show you the new drawings she had made just for you.

Natasha kept one hand on the steering wheel, while the other rested on your knee, a silent connection between you. She glanced over at you, seeing you relaxed against the seat, your eyes closed, a content smile playing on your lips. When you finally pulled up in front of the house, the children practically burst out of the car, racing to the front door to open it for you. Natasha helped you out of the car, wrapping an arm around your waist to support you as you walked up the steps together.

The moment you stepped into the house, a wave of relief washed over you. The familiar scent of home, the warmth of the rooms, and the sight of the life you had built together, it was everything you had fought for. Mia immediately grabbed your hand, tugging you toward the living room. “Come on, Mama! I want to show you what I made!”

You laughed softly, letting Mia lead you to the sofa, where you carefully sat down. Natasha was close behind, ready to help if needed, but she was just happy to see you home at last. Jacob ran into the kitchen and quickly returned with a glass of water, offering it to you with a serious expression. “Here, Mama.” he said earnestly. “You should drink this.”

You took the glass with a grateful smile, taking a sip before setting it on the coffee table. “Thank you, Jacob..” you said warmly. “You’re such a good helper.” Lila, trying to maintain her cool demeanor, hung back a little, but the gentle smile on her face betrayed her happiness. “If you need anything, just let me know, okay, Ma?” She said, her voice carrying a note of quiet sincerity.

“I will, Lila.” you replied, your heart swelling with love for your children. Mia climbed up beside you on the sofa, pulling out her latest drawing from behind a cushion. “Look, Mama! I made this last night! It’s our whole family!” You took the drawing from Mia’s small hands, your eyes misting over as you took in the bright colors and happy figures she had drawn. In the center of the picture was your family, all holding hands, with “Mama” written in big, bold letters above your figure.

“It’s beautiful..” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for making it for me.” Mia beamed, leaning against you and giving you a gentle hug. Natasha sat down beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “We’ve got you now.” she whispered, her voice filled with love. “You’re home, and that’s all that matters.” You leaned into Natasha’s embrace, feeling the love and warmth of your family surrounding you. The road to full recovery still lay ahead, but with your family by your side, you knew you could face anything.

As the afternoon wore on, the sounds of life filled the house. Laughter, conversation, and the pitter-patter of the children’s feet as they ran around with renewed energy. And through it all, you felt a deep sense of peace and gratitude. You were home, where you belonged, with the people you loved most in the world. And as the day turned to evening, you and Natasha sat together on the couch, your children snuggled close, and you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, as a family.

Several months had passed since you had returned home from the hospital, and life had gradually settled into a comfortable rhythm. The scars from your ordeal had healed, leaving only faint marks as reminders of the battle you had fought. Your strength had returned, and with it, the joy of fully embracing your role within your family once more. One Saturday afternoon, the house was buzzing with the energy that only comes when everyone is home and looking for something fun to do together. You, Natasha, and the kids were gathered at the kitchen, ready to tackle a new family activity: making homemade pizzas.

The kitchen island was covered with ingredients, slices of pepperoni, bowls of cheese, fresh vegetables, and various sauces. Lila, who had taken a recent interest in cooking, was carefully spreading tomato sauce over her pizza dough, her tongue sticking out slightly as she concentrated. Mia was excitedly sprinkling cheese on her pizza, making sure every inch was covered, while Jacob, ever the perfectionist, was meticulously placing his toppings in neat rows. You and Natasha exchanged amused glances, both of you reveling in the happy chaos that surrounded you.

"Alright, who wants to add the secret ingredient?" Natasha asked, holding up a small jar of fresh basil leaves. "Me! Me!" Mia shouted, jumping up and down with her hand raised high. "Okay, Mia, you get to do the honors." Natasha said, handing her the jar.

Mia carefully took out a few basil leaves and sprinkled them on top of her pizza, her face glowing with pride. "Now it’s perfect!" she declared. Jacob, not to be outdone, added a few basil leaves to his pizza as well. "I think mine looks pretty good, too!"

Lila, on the other hand, was more focused on making sure her pizza looked like a work of art. She had carefully arranged the pepperoni slices into a smiley face, and as she stepped back to admire her work, she nodded with satisfaction. "Looks great." you said, giving her a thumbs-up. "Everyone's doing an awesome job." Natasha grinned mischievously as she reached for a handful of cheese. "You know what would make this even better?"

You raised an eyebrow, already sensing the playful glint in her eyes. "What?" Without warning, Natasha tossed a handful of cheese at you, laughing as it landed on your head. "A little bit of extra cheese, just for you!" The kids burst into giggles as you stood there, a mock look of shock on your face. "Oh, you did not just do that."

"Oh, I definitely did.." Natasha said, her smile widening. Not one to back down, you grabbed a handful of flour from the counter and lightly dusted Natasha's hair with it. "There, now we match." The kitchen erupted in laughter as Natasha shook her head, sending a cloud of flour into the air. "Alright, now it's on!" she declared, reaching for the bowl of tomato sauce. Before anyone could stop her, Natasha flicked a spoonful of sauce in your direction, but you dodged just in time, causing it to splatter across the countertop.

Mia, eyes wide with excitement, quickly joined in by tossing a few stray pieces of pepperoni at Jacob, who retaliated with a handful of mushrooms. Lila, seeing her opportunity, grabbed a handful of cheese and tossed it at you with a grin. "Sorry, Mama, but I’m with Mom on this one!"

Soon, the entire kitchen turned into a battlefield of food. Cheese flew through the air, flour dusted the counters, and vegetables were scattered across the floor. You couldn’t stop laughing as you and Natasha teamed up against the kids, who shrieked with joy as they dodged and counterattacked with equal enthusiasm. At one point, you found yourself cornered by both Mia and Jacob, who had somehow managed to team up against you. "Surrender, Mama!" Jacob demanded, holding a piece of broccoli as if it were a weapon.

"Never!" you laughed, trying to fend them off with a handful of pepperoni. Natasha, seeing your predicament, rushed to your rescue, pelting the kids with a few extra leaves of basil. "Let your mama go!" she ordered playfully..In the end, everyone was covered in food, and the kitchen looked like a disaster zone. But the sound of laughter echoed through the house, and the sense of pure joy made every bit of mess worth it.

When the battle finally died down, you all collapsed onto the kitchen floor, breathless and laughing. Natasha leaned over and planted a flour-dusted kiss on your cheek, her eyes sparkling. "I think we make a pretty good team.".You grinned back at her, still catching your breath. "The best." The kids were sprawled out around you, all of them grinning from ear to ear. Lila, who was still giggling, looked over at you with a playful smirk. "That was so much fun. We should do this every week!"

Mia nodded enthusiastically, her face smeared with tomato sauce. "Yeah! Pizza wars every Saturday!" Jacob, always the practical one, sighed dramatically. "But we’re going to have to clean all of this up, aren’t we?" You and Natasha looked around at the chaos, and then at each other, before bursting into laughter again. "Yeah, but it was totally worth it." Natasha said, ruffling Jacob’s hair.

"Alright, troops!" you announced, clapping your hands together. "Let’s get this place cleaned up so we can actually eat these pizzas. But first, how about we take a picture to remember this day?" Everyone gathered around, and Natasha set up her phone on the counter, setting the timer. As the camera flashed, you all huddled together, covered in food but filled with happiness.

The pizzas, once they were finally cooked, tasted even better after all the fun you’d had making them. You all sat down together at the table, enjoying the fruits of your chaotic labor, the laughter continuing as you recounted the best moments of the "pizza war." As you looked around the table, at the smiles on your children’s faces and the warmth in Natasha’s eyes, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment. These were the moments that made everything worthwhile. The laughter, the love, the togetherness.

Hours later, you stood in the kitchen, watching the late afternoon sunlight filter through the windows, The house was filled with the familiar sounds of life. Mia's laughter, Jacob's chatter, and the soft hum of Natasha's voice as she discussed something with Steve on the phone in the next room. It was a peaceful, ordinary day, the kind you had longed for during those difficult weeks of recovery.

As you poured yourself a cup of tea, you heard the sound of hesitant footsteps approaching. You turned to see Lila standing in the doorway, her expression thoughtful. She had grown so much in the past few months, both physically and emotionally, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride as you looked at her. “Hey, Ma.” Lila greeted you, using the casual nickname she had adopted for you ever since you had come home. It was a sign of the bond that had strengthened between you two..a bond you cherished deeply.

“Hey.” you replied with a warm smile, setting down your cup. “What’s on your mind?” Lila shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a small, almost mischievous smile playing on her lips. “So, um, I was wondering..Some of my friends are going to the movies tonight, and they invited me to go with them. I really want to go, but..well, I figured I should ask you first.”

You raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story. “And why didn’t you go straight to your mom with this?” you asked gently, already knowing the answer. Lila sighed, her smile turning sheepish. “Because I know she’ll say no. You know how strict she is about curfews and all that. But you’re a little more..reasonable.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly. Lila knew exactly how to play her cards, and over time, you had learned to navigate the delicate balance between being the understanding parent and maintaining the boundaries Natasha had set. “Well, I appreciate you coming to me.” you said, leaning against the counter. “But you also know that your mom and I are a team. We have to be on the same page when it comes to decisions like this.”

Lila nodded, looking down at her feet for a moment. “I know. But I promise I won’t be out late, and I’ll text you both every hour if you want! I just really want to go..It’s been a while since I’ve hung out with my friends outside of school.” You could hear the sincerity in her voice and saw the hopeful glint in her eyes. You knew how much these moments meant to her, especially after everything your family had been through. You also understood the importance of giving her some freedom to grow and experience life.

“Alright,” you said after a moment’s thought, “I’ll let you go, but you have to promise me a few things.” Lila’s face lit up with excitement. “Anything, Ma! What do you need me to do?” “First, you’ll text both me and your mom when you get to the theater and when you’re leaving.” you began. “Second, you’ll be home by 10:30 at the latest. And third, if anything feels off, you call us immediately. Deal?”

Lila nodded eagerly, a huge grin spreading across her face. “Deal! Thank you, Mama!” The switch from “Ma” to “Mama” was subtle, but you noticed it. Lila had taken to using “Mama” whenever she was particularly grateful or when she really wanted something. It was a small thing, but it made your heart swell with warmth every time she said it.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” you said, pulling her into a gentle hug. “Now, go get ready. I’ll talk to your mom and make sure she’s okay with this.” Lila hugged you back tightly. “You’re the best, Mama. I’ll be quick, I promise!” As Lila dashed off to her room, you took a deep breath and prepared yourself for the conversation with Natasha. You knew it might take a little convincing, but you also knew that Natasha trusted your judgment. You found Natasha in the living room, still on the phone with Steve, but she ended the call when she saw you approaching.

“Everything alright?” she asked, immediately picking up on the fact that you had something on your mind. You nodded, sitting down beside her on the couch. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Lila just asked if she could go to the movies with some friends tonight.”

“Did she now? And I’m guessing she came to you instead of me because she thought I’d say no?” You smiled softly, reaching out to take Natasha’s hand. “You know our girl well. She’s eager to go, but she knows how strict you are about curfews and safety.” Natasha sighed, her gaze softening as she looked at you. “And what did you tell her?”

“I told her she could go, but only if she agreed to text us when she gets there and when she’s leaving, to be home by 10:30, and to call us if anything feels off. I know it’s important for her to have some freedom, especially after everything we’ve all been through.”

Natasha leaned back against the couch, her hand still holding yours. “You’re right. I just..I worry about her, you know? She’s at that age where she wants to push boundaries, and I don’t want her to get into any trouble.”

“I know.” you said gently, squeezing her hand. “But she’s a good kid, and she’s been through a lot. She needs to feel like we trust her, and this is a way to show her that we do. Plus, we’ve given her guidelines, and I believe she’ll stick to them.”

Natasha nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. “You’re right. I do trust her, and I trust you. If you think this is okay, then I’ll support it.” You smiled, leaning in to kiss her softly on the lips. “Thank you, Nat. I know it’s not easy to loosen the reins, but I promise we’ll keep an eye on things.”

Natasha returned your smile, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “You’re really good at this, you know? Balancing everything.”

“I had a great partner to learn from..” you replied, resting your head on her shoulder. “We’re in this together, remember?” Natasha wrapped her arm around you, pulling you closer. “Always.” A few hours later, Lila was dressed and ready to go, her excitement barely contained as she came into the living room to say goodbye. She hugged you tightly, a big smile on her face. “Thanks again, Mama. I’ll text you both as soon as I get there.”

“Have fun!” you said, hugging her back. “And remember, be home by 10:30.”

“I will, I promise!” Lila assured you, before turning to Natasha. “Thanks, Mom. I know you’re just trying to keep me safe.” Natasha smiled, pulling Lila into a hug. “I am, but I also want you to have fun. Just be careful, okay?”

“I will.” Lila promised, and with that, she was out the door, practically skipping with excitement. As the door closed behind her, you and Natasha shared a look, both of you feeling a mix of pride and the inevitable worry that comes with letting your child out into the world.

“You did good.” Natasha said, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “You’re really good at this whole parenting thing.”

“So are you.” you replied, smiling at her. “We’re a team, remember?” Natasha nodded, resting her head against yours. “Yeah, we are.” As the evening progressed, you and Natasha spent some quiet time together, savoring the peace and quiet of the house. The kids were occupied with their activities, and for once, there was no pressing crisis to deal with. It was just the two of you, enjoying each other’s company and the knowledge that, no matter what, you had each other.

Around 9:30, Lila texted as promised, letting you both know that she was on her way home. You could sense Natasha’s relief, and you shared it, knowing that your daughter was safe and had had a good time with her friends. When Lila finally walked through the door at exactly 10:25, you couldn’t help but smile at her punctuality. She looked happy and content, and that was all that mattered to you.

“Did you have fun?” you asked as she kicked off her shoes and plopped down on the couch beside you.. “Yeah, it was great.” Lila replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Thanks again for letting me go.”

“You’re welcome.” you said, ruffling her hair affectionately. “I’m glad you had a good time.” Natasha came over and sat on Lila’s other side, pulling her into a hug. “We’re both glad, sweetheart. Just remember, you can always come to us with anything, okay?” Lila nodded, leaning into the embrace. “I will. I love you, Mom. I love you, Mama.”

“I love you too.” you and Natasha replied in unison, both of you smiling at the bond that had only grown stronger with time.

As the night settled in and the house grew quiet, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. Your family was safe, happy, and together, and that was all you could ever ask for. And in the weeks and months that followed, as the kids continued to grow and thrive, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you and Natasha would face them together, hand in hand, surrounded by the love of your children. The greatest gift you could ever have.

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha #natasha romanoff x reader

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hotheadedhero · 6 months

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Ok question how would the tmnt bros (all 4) react to someone having a crush on them, and they confess, but the turtle rejects at time... but later on he realizes no wait I actually do like them!

But theres already been like a good month or more since the confession and their crush has been sorta avoiding them by hanging out with the other turtle bros and though still being polite, they avoid like being alone with their turtle crush and try to act like they don't have a crush still(but they do)

Sorry if I didn't write the request right! and thanks for your writing I love how you write the turtles!

Frothing at the mouth. No words. Speechless. Thank you so much anon! This request is absolutely amazing and tugged at my heart in all the good ways, you beauty. So glad you like my writing tyty <3 Apologies for the wait btw :] I might have meddled with the idea a bit depending on the turtle but I hope this is the kind of thing you were hoping for! May even make a part 2 continuation because there was just so much to write, this was really a lot of fun so thank you again :P I let fate decide which version to base this on and we got Bayverse!

Rejection, Realisation, and Regret

Warnings: bad language, grovelling turtles for their idiocy, angst with this in mind, oh these boys are some real idiots

Bay Turtles x Reader

Leonardo

Turns you down as gently as he can but it still feels like a sucker punch to the gut. It may sound calloused but he's a ninja, a mutant, a protector before anything else and that includes being someone's boyfriend. With a constructive discussion on the matter, he can only hope that you understand his position. You assured him that you did.

So, then, how is it that he barely gets a conversation in with you these days? And why does that fact burn a hole in his stomach? This pit, although metaphorical, weighs down heavily on him. Assumably, he’s missing one-on-one with a friend until it truly occurs to him just what exactly is going on. There's a lesson to be learned here, he's sure - a saying that goes around as if taken from an ancient script: you don't realise how good you have it until it's gone. You're not gone perse but you make a point of avoiding him individually. As well-mannered as you try to be, he's noticed and he's noticed the hurt in his belly that comes alongside it.

He thought things were okay, that despite the rejection, you would still be able to comfortably continue your friendship without any issues. It seems he managed even to fool himself. Being so caught up in what it means to be one of New York's self-acclaimed protectors, he was completely absentminded to the feelings that had been bubbling up inside him all along. No wonder he's been losing focus on his training as of late. He has attempted to try and talk to you about it but to no avail. Has your heart really been that broken?

For once, he doesn’t know what to do, or what decision should be made. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place right now. Who's the one person he can turn to at a time like this? Come on. Who else would it be?

"Sensei, you know better than anyone that our position comes with complications. That we as ninjas are sworn to certain oaths.”

"Yes, the duty of yourself and your brothers is indeed a heavy burden. Responsibility comes with risk and consequence as I am sure you are well aware of by now.” Splinter watches his son bow down as he thoughtfully strokes his beard. "However, sensei, rat, master; alongside all of these things, I am foremost a father who wishes to see his sons be happy. You're in love, are you not?"

Leo’s attention quickly turns up from the floor to his master. How had he figured it out? Must be that parental instinct. Either way, he’s thankful for that in some respect. It makes this easier. Less complicated.

The turtle nods and breathes out, "I am, Sensei."

"That's what I thought." His father lays a hand over Leo’s shoulder before it taps him against the side of his head. "Now, what are you waiting for? Talking to me isn't going to change the situation."

Splinter is right. It's high time for him to get out of his funk and strategise the best way to make amends. He can only hope he isn’t too late.

Raphael

Rejects you thinking it was some sick prank curated by his youngest brother or something. There's no way you have a thing for him. He's a mutant and you're a human. How could someone actually be in love with a freak like himself? That's why he blows up in your face when you attempt to pour your heart out to him. Whatever joke you thought would be funny, isn't.

He may have taken things out of proportion. This much is made obvious enough by the poorly thought-out excuses you make just to avoid being alone with him. Yeah, that's right, he thinks. You should feel ashamed for trying to pull a stupid stunt like that, for trying to mess with him. He's standing firm on his self-assurance. Don't think for a second that he's going to lose sleep over what he said that day.

However, life has a very funny way of playing its own game. It all comes to fruition when you're laughing with the leader of the brothers. When your hand landed on his forearm, Raphael was struck with something fierce. The shot of jealousy to his heart almost takes him for a wild spin but he disregards it for typical Leo/Raph rivalry. Until that night, anyway. This man is tossing and turning in bed, ruminating on that sickly feeling in his chest; losing sleep over it. No. Surely not. He isn't in love with you. This isn't something that's been in the making for however long now. So what if you managed to calm him down quicker than anyone else he's ever known? Big whoop if you used to make a point of checking up on him when no one dared to go near him. It’s no big deal that you’d hype him up and cheer him on before each mission.

Fuck. He's been in love with you this whole time, hasn't he? Oh, you have got to be kidding. This was probably the only chance he had at something close to normal in his life and he trampled over it like it was nothing. That's assuming it was even genuinely meant from your end to begin with. He still has his doubts all things considered. Either way, he can’t just sit in bed and wallow in his head all night. He needs some air.

"What crawled up your shell and died?"

Great. He had hoped to get some peace and quiet. Not that this city knows the definition of either word but that isn’t the point.

"Not now, Jones. I ain't in the mood."

Casey's head rolls against his shoulders and he sighs, "Hey, if this is to do with (Y/n) ignoring you, what do you expect? 'Can't just make someone cry and expect things to be okay after without an apology."

Raph's mask slowly descends and hoods over his eyes, those of which are now staring down the detective.

"Oh, shit. You didn't know?"

No. No, he did not. He really made you cry? Why would you-? Ah. Two things smack him up the head at this moment: you meant every word of what you admitted a month ago and he is an absolute asshole. Despite already living in the sewers, he feels like the scum of the Earth.

That's it. No more holding back. No more being chicken. He might have ruined his chance but he can at least try and make things right by you.

Donatello

Aloof. Absolutely aloof and utterly clueless to the fact that you were even trying to admit your feelings for him. Yet, the way that the whole situation plays out makes it seem as though he had denied you. His head is usually stuck in a book or on one of the many screens that litter his quarters. What can you really expect of him? Unfortunately, this isn’t something that comes to mind nor is taken into consideration when you attempt your casual proclamation. With his eyes glued to his computer, his inattentiveness could only be read as uninterest to which you find it’s probably best to withdraw yourself.

In the weeks to come, it still doesn't even occur to him that you were confessing. The only thing that dawns on him from your weirdly abrupt absence is how strange it feels without you around. You still engage in your regular visits to the lair but are always elusive to his corner. Had he missed a memo? He can't quite place a finger on your change in behaviour. Then he realises just how much he enjoys and misses your presence. Even just how you'd pass by his little section of the lair and do something as small as asking him what he's working on. The small details should always get their chance in the spotlight but he managed to miss them when they were right there in front of him. When you were in front of him.

Subsequent to this steady progression of fluttering heart palpitations upon the thought of you and his drying throat when he tries to speak your way, he decides to take some action. At least, that’s the plan he has in his head. You hardly look his way, so he needs to find a way to gain your attention. There must be some way. With somewhat of an idea in mind, he dials a number through his computer and lets it ring.

The other side of the line picks up and there’s a voice. “If this has anything to do with goons, aliens or whatever trouble you guys have gotten yourselves into, I don’t want any part of it.”

“Relax, Vern. This is something that entirely requires your expertise without life endangerment. I need to ask about women,” Donnie confirms, cutting right to the chase.

There’s a pause. "What-?” Another longer pause and then an inhale. “Can't you just ask one of your brothers or something?"

Yeah, right, because his family of sewer dwellers are so well-equipped for this matter. Even asking for Vern's aid is pushing the boat a little but it's better than nothing - a baseline structure of what to expect is all he needs. The internet would probably be more reliable but it doesn’t include that vital real-world experience.

"You engage in frequent courting. By all accounts, you're the only person I know who has enough field experience to give advice."

This might be giving Vern too much credit but this is a surefire way to get what he wants. Feeding a man's ego can accomplish many things. Call it manipulation of the circumstances if you will but no harm done.

"You know what?” There’s a brightness in his tone, an uptilted cadence in Vern’s rhetorical question. Bingo. “You being the smart one has never been more accurate, Don. Alright, I'll help you."

The notes he takes are unfathomable but he wants to make sure that everything is thought out with careful precision. That's not even taking into account that he needs to muster the courage to ask you out in the first place.

Michelangelo

One would think that this guy would be jumping with unparalleled joy to have someone confess their feelings for him but he's got eyes for someone else. April O'Neil is his one true babycake, his angel face, the first love he had ever known. He turns you down in the friendly way one would expect him to if not a little cocky. Who wouldn't want a piece of the MC Mikey? There aren’t any hard feelings though, right?

Well, no but the sting that follows is still too much for you to handle. Too much in fact that you decide it's best to recoil into a shell of your own and spend less time with the loveable terrapin. Such a shame as well considering you're missing out on your regular gaming sessions together. It probably sucks big time to be rejected but he meant no harm by it. He thought you could still hang out as you normally would. Perhaps you just needed some time. That’s what he reckoned until the days turned to weeks and those weeks to almost two months.

He’s subjected to playing bystander when you hang out with his family, barely getting a chance to have a word with you alone. If this treatment is good for anything, it gives him a chance to spectate and watch how you interact with those around you rather than directly with him. He recognises how much he adores that sparkle in your eyes, the playfulness of your tone when you crack out jokes with his brothers, how you light up the entire lair when you make your presence known. There is this unshakable spirit within you that he somehow never noticed until a few days prior when you took the liberty of playing an incredibly bold practical joke at Casey's expense. Man, this turtle's heart sored higher than it ever has before, which is saying something considering he had to jump out of a plane once.

Well, colour him surprised. He was so sure of himself that New York's favourite journalist was the only one for him but it seems he was wrong. Oh, man. He's feeling pretty bad now. He can surely make up for what happened though, right? Hopefully. There's only one way of finding out but he has one thing he needs to do first before talking to you.

"I'm sorry, angel face. My sights have been led astray. My loyalty shouldn’t be doubted but it’s for someone else now.”

The way Mikey is knelt down, head lowered with April’s hands in his own is a perplexing sight if not curiously amusing. His feelings and the pronounced “dibs” on the reporter have been no secret but his recent infatuation with you hasn’t been much of a secret either. Not to her anyway but she likes to think she’s good at picking up on these things.

“Just know that you'll always have a special place in my heart,” he finishes, ending the overly dramatised display by holding a fist to his chest.

"Considerate as always." Her expression is somewhere between humoured and endeared, fighting the shake of her head at how adorably ridiculous this turtle can be. "Thanks, Mikey."

Now that's out of the way, he can go into this with a clear head. Although, the only thing really going into this is going to be all of his heart.

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chilschuck · 6 months

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I'm not sure how to put it into words on what I exactly want outta this, but please give us a Chilchuck x Tall Woman Reader.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ hi anon!! i hope this is okay! i kinda did a mixture of hcs with a drabble, just something put together for you! thank you so much for your request, this is so cute!! <3

— CHILCHUCK x fem tall-man!reader

꒰ warnings: ꒱ sfw + fluffy goodness with this emotionally constipated man. enjoy!

꒰ wc: ꒱ 524

✦ this was so fun…. fem tall-man is so funny to read… tall-woman?? idk anymore. holds my head in my hands. i think this turned out more gn, but i tried. :”)) please enjoy!!! feel free to submit the request again if you’d like me to do more for it!! <3

✦ Chilchuck was used to being looked down upon, something he experienced both figuratively and literally. It came with being a half-foot, and that was the cold, hard truth. Yet, for a reason he couldn’t wrap his head around, he felt warm around you.

✦ Maybe it was your smile, or the way you managed to make him feel like you were always on the same page. It didn’t help that you weren’t bad to look at, on top of being possibly one of the easiest people to talk to he’s come across. He could continue to play it off as just a perk of working together, which was something he planned to do. But things were never that easy for him.

✦ Chilchuck was stubborn. He knew what worked and what didn’t, and he surely wasn’t going to put everything on the line for some tall-man. Yet…

✦ Watching you interact with the rest of the party, the kindness you exude and that comfort you brought with you, made him start to crumble. You were wearing away at the wall he built up, faster than he had the ability to rebuild it.

✦ “I look up to you, Chilchuck... For all you’ve done for half-foots, the way you show others not to underestimate you. It’s really amazing.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, looking down at your palms. You had suddenly felt the need to tell him what had been on your mind, and there wasn’t any way you’d let this stroke of courage go.

✦ You bit your tongue for a moment. The last thing you wanted was to make him think you were sucking up to him. Clearing your throat, your gaze sought out his.

✦ Surprisingly, you had managed to catch him off guard. You… look up to him? His brow furrowed, really taking in what you had said. Cheeks rosy, he opened his mouth to speak, only to grow silent again. Dammit.

✦ You… You made it so hard for him to articulate a thought. Especially when you looked at him like that. What was he supposed to say? That he truly respected you, too? That he didn’t think you were too bad? Not to mention, the way you always looked out for him didn’t make him feel inferior for once? Ah… Shit.

✦ You were used to being honest, so it didn’t strike you as how it might maybe be too much to say in the moment. Swallowing sharply, you tried to catch his attention.

✦ “Sorry… I just mean that I really, uhm, enjoy having someone like you around. Is that too much? Sorry. Let me clarify—“

✦ Mind reeling, grabbing at straws from realizing just how deep the waves of his feelings had crashed into his psyche, he waved a hand at your words. Your name left his mouth softly, stopping you in your rambling.

✦ “That means a lot… Thanks.” A beat. “And stop saying sorry so damn much.” Chilchuck mumbled, a gloved hand scratching the back of his head in bashfulness.

✦ Who thought he’d be catching feelings for a tall-man…

dividers by @/cafekitsune!

#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿#୨ chilchuck my beloved ୧ #how is it midnight rn…..#chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck x reader #dunmeshi x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #x reader

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fraugwinska · 1 month

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I'm so in love with your writing!!!! If you are doing requests could you write about the first time Alastor and his darling spend the night together? Maybe they are up late listening to music and his darling suggests he stay the night. They are new to the whole relationship thing and Alastor is awkward but agrees. Could be a touch spicy but mostly just fluff. <3

I did a unique take on this, I hope you don't mind, my lovely Anon? I had the inspiration for it in a fleeting moment and just started to type, remembering your ask... And I kinda love what came out of it! :> As always, @macabr3-barbi3 was my rock and my anchor during the writing process - you have too much patience with me, love! <3

And a huge 'Thank you' to the lovely, ever-so-talented @minkdelovely for prereading this for me to find the perfect title for this story. You are both an inspiration and a delight, and I truly appreciate you, my darling!

Kissing was something Alastor had slowly gotten used to. Kissing you, that is.

You had made it easy for him, he'd give you that. Patience is a virtue rarely found in hell, but when the turning point in his friendship with you tipped the scale to the side of more amorous realms, the Radio Demon, normally superior and confident, had found himself to be exceedingly useless. The lines between companionship and partnership were drawn by his mind rather than physical barriers, and crossing them alone had been a tremendous effort for him. Alastor had never thought he'd feel anything for another sinner, hell, the bare concept of feeling was generally strange to him.

Love was something that had been intimately intertwined with the feeling he had for his mother. So pure, and so lost and unretrievable after her untimely death. To feel this similar yet completely different kind of love for you? Unimaginable, and yet, there you were. And with an unbelievable ease you slowly took root in his mind, weaving your way into his thoughts and settling in his heart without you putting in real conscious effort. Had your encounters been mostly accidental and brief at first, Alastor found himself longing to walk into you more and more before actively seeking your company. To you, he was never unwelcome, in complete contrast to the other residents of the hotel, who tended to avoid or flee from him whenever they could. Whether he would be annoyingly chatty in amusement, hurtful in cold anger or buzzing with excitement (and sometimes murderous glee) - you entertained his whims, listened intently or soothed him with a few chosen words, always finding the right ones.

You shift in his arms, your head leaning a little in to grant his hungry mouth better access to yours with a small, delicious sigh, ignoring or maybe even blissfully unaware that your lips must've caught on his teeth somewhere along the line and ripped open, thin, beautiful crimson lines slowly running down the sides of your mouth. He always said that red suited you best.

Your differences made you quite an odd sight in hell's scenery. What many could only admire with a good dose of fear was never scary to you and the fact you openly regarded the Radio Demon with polite respect and genuine endearment left quite an impression on the others - so much so that it had earned you the hushed title 'Daddy-Deer Whisperer', bestowed by the ever-so-childish Angel Dust. It was when he caught you scolding Angel for using that expression and spreading his usual slander about him with a rare display of open anger that he first felt the gentle tug in his chest that has since remained whenever you were near Alastor. At first, he had shrugged it off as another of his eccentricities, or perhaps hunger pangs he hadn't fulfilled for a while (A very likely thing given his... appetite). But it persisted whenever you looked at him with that little smile on your lips, and he knew. Knew that he had to have you, and that you would be his, in good time. He could never have imagined how easy that would turn out to be, how accommodating to his needs you were from the moment you acknowledged his advances, and were able to keep up with his admittedly glacial pace from then on. While no one dared to ridicule him to his face, the others were comfortable enough around you to tease you for having a partner that seemed so uninterested in physical attention. Well.

While they were not completely mistaken, they didn't know all there was to Alastor the demon with the eternal smile. The foreignness of what it meant to touch and love and the, he had to say it, pitiful lack in experience made Alastor hesitant for the first time in both of his lifes. How could he publicly display his affections when he could barely bring himself to show them in the confines of your company alone? Yet you never demanded anything physical from him, and he realized with a startle that you were perfectly content with just being with him. Where it had taken him weeks to consider kissing you for the first time, it took another couple or so to slowly allow his touches to drift from a brief grasp on an elbow or waist to a tighter grip, resting a hand at the small of your back, enjoying the sensation of your hip bone gently pressing into his palm, pulling you a little bit closer as your hands ran over his arms. In his embrace your arms found their natural place on his shoulders, the weight becoming familiar and calming to him. Until one day, it wasn't anymore. One day he noticed, truly recognized the feeling of you in his arms and found himself struggling not to pull you even closer. And without much thinking, his lips had been on yours, chaste almost and testing, savoring the contact and tasting you without the need to devour. And he found that with you, only you, just a taste was so much more satiating.

It was the first of many kisses shared, but to Alastor, this one held a special significance. You had been stunned, yes, but when he withdrew, overstimulated and unsure of his actions, he found neither judgment or reproach, only a silent smile and a hint of blush on your cheeks before you had returned the affection in your own, respectful way that he appreciated so much - soft pressure and warmth enveloping his hands - and a change of topic, easing him into a lighthearted conversation that had lasted hours, just to calm his nerves. Since then, Alastor has held on to these memories, his firsts with you. And there were countless - all kept near to your heart. Charlie, Angel and Niffty could pester you with any intrusive, interrogating question, you would only smile at them and repeat the same sentiment: What you see is the only thing you get to know.

"Alastor?"

"Hm?" Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and his eyes focus on your beautiful face where he sees your brows furrowed with what he learned is concern.

"Is everything okay? You seemed to be somewhere else."

Ah, you were worried. For him. As you always were, so susceptible to his needs, as if it was natural to you. Another peculiarity and yet an incredibly welcome thing for a creature like him who found himself on the receiving end of unreciprocated concern very, very rarely.

"Just a little lost in thought is all, my dear."

"We can stop you know, it's almost midnight anyway." you say softly, your hands streaking soothingly over his arm as they slowly retreat from his shoulders.

He pauses, debating if the sensation of your fingertips touching the soft skin below his buzzed undercut, coupled with a very, very warm and inviting kiss had been enough. Had it ever been? Enough? It wasn't that you ever had any expectations of what would come after, seemingly content with anything he'd allow you to have - a softly spoken praise, an elegant compliment or even just peaceful silence before he'd take his leave. And knowing this Alastor suddenly is... displeased with the idea of this moment not lasting.

His claws wrap around your hands, a gentle pull guiding them back to their rightful place, back to the nape of his neck. He enjoys the rare sight of your surprised and red-flushed face before he let his lips trail your jawline, relishing in the way your skin breaks into goosebumps under his mere breath and fleeting touch before he speaks.

"I'm not so sure about that. Being able to stop, that is."

And he's true to his words. A searing fire is lit when your lips meet his again and his body tenses as he tries and fails to restrain the feeling it coaxes within him. Alastor wants to stay this time, wants to hold this miraculous thing that loves him so undeservingly close, wants to experience the feeling of skin on skin in your pristine bed sheets as he allows himself a rare night of sleep, with your sweet sighs as his lullaby and soft body as his covers. Another first with you, to add to the collection. And while you were always willing to indulge him, he feels, in the way you were pressing into him in cautious urgency, the whine that slips beyond the restriction of your bitten lips and the tremble of your fingers that you weaved into his hair, that this is - finally - what you, maybe for the first time, selfishly crave for, too.

Patience is a virtue, yes, but after all this saintly time he'd allow the both of you the sin of greed for a night.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #alastor fluff #the fluff fairy strikes again!#A pinch of tension #Alastor is bad at having feelings #what else is new #gravitational pull #kiss the deer

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revasserium · 27 days

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hi! I've been reading your opla!zoro stuff and I wanted to tell you your writing is so gorgeous! it's truly breathtaking, you're really talented ❤️ i've looked through your prompts tag, im not sure how requesting works, but could I ask for "edge of falling" or "the spaces between us" (whichever one you like the most) with zoro and fem!reader? i'm a goner for longing and feelings realization and the prompts give me those vibes, but i'm sure anything you write will be lovely <3

reqs are open!

the edge of falling

opla!zoro; 7,475 words; fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, passing mentions of: cult!, physical violence, & trauma/cult-programming, ex-cult member!reader, strawhat!reader, traumatized!reader, protective!zoro, healing from past trauma, learning to trust etc, angst with a happy ending!, a metric TON of plot

summary: "Lie to me," Time said to Love; Love smiled and said, "I promise, I'll never let you slip away."

a/n: thank u for the request anon!!! i uhm idk what happened with this fic tbh. there's def uh -- longing of SOME kind here??? welp. pls read the tw list! there's some dark-ish content in this. but i promise it ends well u__u

prelude: in which a fox teaches you to speak

Time is the greatest liar, so you are told, over and over and over. For the longest time, you think it’s the only truth you’ll ever know.

But we will live forever…

So long as you do the things you’re told. So long as you make the Fox happy. So long, so long, so long.

There is no way to mark the passage of time in the compound; with no sunlight to guide the way, you are left to other, more primal ways of keeping track — that elusive, silver-fish creature — time — always slipping through your fingers when want to hold on most.

You measure it in wounds, in the time it takes for a fresh wound to seal over, for the scab to break and reveal the soft, tender pink flesh beneath. You measure it in gulps of water, in bites of cold food, in the droplets of artificial rain that they let fall through the ceiling sometimes. You measure it in rewards too, in long baths and hot meals, in the evenings when the Fox would tell you stories in his low, lilting voice instead of leaving you in his seething silences.

And he is ever so good with stories. If you stay still and keep quiet, and let his voice wash over you like a hungry tide across a rain-starved beach, you can feel the words seeping into your bones, ringing out till they feel like nothing but god’s given truth.

As long as you’re good… I promise I’ll make you live forever.

Like this, you learn the weapon of words, the power of speech, how to listen for lies, and how to tell them, and tell them, and tell them.

The Fox is good at lying; you’ll just have to learn to be better.

act i: yet another sad, desperate soul

Roronoa Zoro has never been a man of many words, but it would be remiss to say that he isn’t a man of his word — you see, when he does speak, he speaks with intention. And always, with conviction.

“Hey. No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”

This, then, is the first lie he tells you.

“Liar.” You spit out the word, drawing back, your body a tangle of livewire nerves, your eyes darting back and forth, an entire life’s worth of fight and flight caught on the hair-pin trigger of his breath as he jolts back slightly and blinks at you.

“Y-you — you can’t know that,” you say, your voice still ragged. But Zoro sees it for the attempt it is — an olive branch, however tentatively extended. And he takes it, wordlessly.

He nods once, reaching out to help you up. The compound crumbles around you, and you unconsciously wrap your arms around yourself, as if to hold yourself together, to keep from shattering into a hundred million tiny little shards of pain and mistrust.

“The fox-guy’s dead! But it looks like this whole island’s gonna blow!” Nami races out of the massive, temple-esque structure just as it starts to collapse from the inside out.

Luffy slingshots passed, cackling as Sanji and Usopp bring up the rear. On the Merry, Robin and Chopper are waiting, and the second Zoro manages to hoist you onto the main deck, the ship careens off into the dark tumult of waves.

You skitter away the minute Zoro’s arm slips from around your waist, and he turns to find you pressing yourself back against the railings, staring at them all with wide eyes, your expression caught halfway between fear and consternation. He takes half a step back, crossing his arms just as Luffy bounds forward with a bright, unassuming smile.

“Don’t worry! You’re safe now!” He makes to slap one of your shoulders but you duck out of the way, chewing on your bottom lip.

Robin clears her throat gently and offers you a smile, “We’re not going to hurt you.”

You narrow your eyes, your gaze darting between them like a trapped animal, but after another beat of stillness (punctuated only by Nami swearing softly to herself as she steers the Merry around a particularly difficult formation of rocks), your entire body seems to soften, and Zoro uncrosses his arms again, resting a hand casually on the hilt of his blades.

“Th-thank you…” you bob your head once, swallowing hard passed chapped lips and a raw throat. Your white linen dress is stained with blood and dirt, a tear at your collar making it slip from your shoulder.

“’S alright now, darlin’ — how bout we run you a nice, hot bath? I could cook you just about anything y’like. Fancy a drink as well? I think a bubbly would be good for a —”

“Lay off, cook.” Zoro cuts Sanji off with a scoff, barring Sanji’s approach with an arm in the gut.

You watch them with dark eyes, your expression curiously blank.

“Will you let me look at your wounds?” Chopper offers.

You jump a little at his voice, piping up from your left side. You glance at Zoro once before looking back at Chopper and nodding.

Sanji tucks his hands into his pockets and watches as Chopper leads you beneath the deck, Zoro following a few steps behind. He lights a cigarette as soon as the trap door clanks shut.

A beat of silence, and then —

“Wow, that island really, really sucked!” Luffy says, turning back to his crew.

Sanji lets out a puff of smoke as Usopp slumps down against the main mast with a groan.

“You can say that again.”

“What happened?” Robin asks.

Sanji sighs, shaking his head, “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

Below deck, Chopper dabs at your wounds with expert ease as you sit very still on the kitchen island and Zoro watches from the sofa, arms crossed loosely over his chest.

“These surface wounds aren’t that bad but…” Chopper trails off, his eyes running over the network of old scars that mar your skin, layers and layers of them — down your arms and along your torso.

“It’s fine,” you say, your voice smooth as polished marble, “I’m —” you swallow, “I’m fine.”

And if it weren’t for the hiccup, the slight hitch in your breath, you would’ve been utterly convincing. Your expression is flat, your voice, even more so.

Across the room, Zoro makes disbelieving noise, “If it hurts, just say so. Chopper’ll fix it.”

“I’m… I’m fine,” you say again, tugging at the sleeve of your torn shift, your tone now a bit more honest, your words tired and resigned. Zoro looks to Chopper, who gives a faint nod of acquiescence before Zoro stands up and jerks his head towards the door.

“Cook’s right — you should wash up before dinner.”

You follow him down the hallway, through a small door that leads into a washroom that’s much cleaner than one might expect a ship’s bathroom to be. A large, wooden soaking tub sits in the middle of the room, and a clean change of clothes has already been laid out on a bench next to the bath.

Zoro grunts after he takes a once-over of the room, satisfied that all’s in order, and makes to leave.

You tug at his sleeve, head lowered.

“Can you…” you lick your lips, “can you stay?”

Zoro glances down at your fingers curled into his shirt sleeve before his eyes flick up to find your face. You’re looking at some indiscriminate point over his left shoulder, but your lips are trembling and your jaw is set.

He lets out a long breath, slowly twisting his body towards the room and you.

“Sure.”

He makes a show of turning around to face the door as you slip off your clothes and sink into the steaming bath water. A long exhale and the light slosh of water is all the indication he gets that it’s safe to turn back around.

He leans himself against the door, his swords propped on his shoulder, his head lolled back, his eyes closed.

He listens to the soft sounds of the water, to the faint splashes as you rub the grit and grime from your skin, inch by inch.

“We were only allowed to bathe as a reward for doing a good deed.”

Your voice makes him open his eyes, his gaze focusing in on the shape of you, nearly submerged in the bathtub, your hair slick and sticking to your pale shoulders. Even in this dim lighting, he can see the patterns your scars make against your skin. Water glimmers along the contours of your face as you run your palms along your cheeks, rubbing at them till they’re ruddy with color.

Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth, “Quit bein’ so rough,” he moves forward without thinking, reaching out a hand to help you with some of the more stubborn pieces of dirt but he pauses, realizing how utterly still you’ve gone.

You stare at him for a long moment before relaxing back into the water and shifting towards the edge of the tub to allow him better access.

He runs a callused thumb along your cheekbones, wiping away the remaining dirt there.

“What was a ‘good deed’?” he asks, letting the tips of his fingers skim the warm water’s surface.

You shrug, “Mostly anything that made Mr. Fox happy… so all of us would —” you take another breath, your hand opening and closing beneath the surface of the still bath water, “we’d spend all our waking hours trying to think of something — anything — that’d please him. No matter how small… no matter how… terrible.”

“This Mr. Fox… what was his deal, anyway?”

You stare down into the dark water, now rapidly cooling from warm to lukewarm.

You take a deep breath, lifting a hand out of the water to distort the image of your ghostly reflection.

“He… was a liar. Except… he could make all his lies sound like the truth.”

“It was uncanny, really,” Sanji says, now at full throttle in the kitchen prepping for dinner service, Usopp lounging on sofa, his feet propped up on the hanging table.

Chopper and Robin both frown.

“What do you mean?” Robin asks.

“It was like… the guy could say anything and make it sound like the truth — even though you knew somewhere inside you that it can’t be real. Like — he could tell you the sky was green and every single part of you would believe him, even though you’re outside and starin’ up at the sky.”

“Yeah! Like he said I’d never be able to beat him and… for a second, I kinda almost believed him!” Luffy offers, munching on a bushel of apples and spitting out the seeds.

Robin’s brows furrow, tapping at her chin with a thin finger.

“It sounds like the Uso-Uso no Mi…”

“Ugh, what a weird, scary power…” Chopper shudders, shaking his head, his tiny hooved hands coming up to cup his cheeks, “I’m sure it’d mess with people’s heads!”

“It sure did. But he also used it to feed false information to the Marines,” Nami says, slipping through the half-opened door to join the rest of the crew on the sofa, “ran a series of taverns that just so happened to be situated in major Marine towns.”

Sanji glances up from a huge, steaming pan of paella, a cigarette caught between his teeth.

“So what was his end goal then? Just to fuck over the Marines?”

Back in the bathroom, you run your fingers along the edge of the tub as if playing an invisible piano.

“Power, domination… I don’t think he had a goal or purpose… I think… he just got off on it…”

Your voice is light, conversational, almost as if you were talking about the weather. But Zoro sees the glazed look in your eyes, the tightness at the edges of your lips.

“You called me a liar,” he says, reaching into the tub and flicking you lightly with a bit of water.

You blink, a smile threatening the corners of your mouth.

“Yeah… guess I did.”

“I wasn’t lying.”

He pulls out his hand and wipes it on a towel, leaning back to stare at you.

You shrug, “Sometimes… people lie to others, and sometimes, people lie to themselves. It’s the ones we tell ourselves that are always the most convincing.”

“I don’t lie. ‘Specially not to myself.”

You let out a tiny laugh, “But I guess… sometimes, if you believe in something hard enough… it’ll just start to be come the truth.”

There’s a note of… something in your voice that Zoro doesn’t like, but he can’t put a name to the feeling so he stays quiet as you continue the laborious work of scrubbing your skin clean, till all the water in the tub’s gone cold.

The rest of the evening passes as most evenings on the Merry do after a big fight — with a lot of food and even more booze. With music and laughter, and new crew member, sitting in the corner, watching mostly and smiling occasionally. No one pushes you, though Sanji does make a valiant effort in getting you to admit to your favorite foods, and Luffy tries two or three times to drag you into the more raucous celebrations (mostly involving way too much meat being roasted on a spike).

No one questions the way Zoro never wanders too far.

No one questions the way your eyes track him around the room, or how, even when Robin and Nami finally get a laugh out of you, you still instinctively searched for Zoro’s figure till you’ve found it in the other corner, a bottle caught between his lips, his eyes half-shut but his gaze caught on you like a fish to a seaman’s hook.

act ii: everything and nothing

A week passes, and then another. And you slowly, but surely, come out of your shell — it’s a strange sort of blossoming, the way you reveal yourself in shards and pieces, jagged and jarring. The shrapnel bits of your personality peaking out amidst the flotsam and jetsam of all your manifold defense mechanisms.

You’re a brilliant liar, but even better at spotting a lie, and it’s a thing that none of the crew had ever really thought about until you’d come along, casually poking holes in their daily deceits.

“Mm! These pancakes are perfect! Just the way I like them!”

“The new dress looks beautiful, Nami.”

“I absolutely did not finish the last bag of popcorn… Luffy did it!”

You clear your throat.

“Okay fine… the pancakes were really good but… but I like them… sweeter.”

“The dress is… well, everything looks gorgeous on you, of course, you know that Nami! But — the color… clashes just a tiny little bit with your… hair.”

“I might’ve uh… taken a few bites out of the popcorn bag… last night… but I was keeping watch and I needed to keep my energy up!”

Robin titters, a sphinx-like smile spreading across her lips.

“Apparently, 60% of people lie at least once every 10 minutes,” she says, casually taking a sip of orange juice as Zoro runs through his daily training regime, seemingly unbothered by the chaos currently taking place on the main deck regarding the “popcorn incident”.

“Dunno why people bother,” Zoro says, working through a set of single-armed burpees.

“I suppose it’s just human nature. We want other people to like us… so we say what we think they might want to hear, instead of what we really think. It’s harmless, mostly,” Robin remarks, leaning back against a white planter box, basking in the shade of the tangerine trees.

“Till it isn’t,” Zoro says, finishing up his workout and pushing himself up for a long stretch. He casts his eyes once more towards where you’re now laughing as Usopp tries to think of some new tall tale to tell.

It only takes you half a second to turn your head, and Zoro wonders at the kind of life you might’ve led to make you so sensitive to another person’s gaze. What must’ve happened to warrant this kind of alertness? But then again, he’d been a hunter long enough to know exactly what being hunted looks like.

He caught a glimpse of it at the compound but — still, his fingers itch toward his swords, his jaw clenches tight enough for Robin to cock her head and raise a brow.

“Yes… until it isn’t…” she echoes, her eyes also trailing towards you.

Zoro holds your gaze for a second before rolling his shoulders and looking away, squinting at the far horizon.

“Oi. Looks like trouble.”

Robin straightens, and a second later, Chopper sounds the alarm from the crow’s nest.

“Marines! Marines!”

There is the shink of swords being drawn, the gentle echo of Robin’s voice as her arms multiply. There’s canon fire and a lot of yelling. But at the end, there’s only bodies and blood and the tattered remains of the Marine’s ship, bobbing in the stained sea below them.

“Should we go after them?” Sanji asks, lighting up a cig, watching as the tiny emergency boat rows off into the distance.

“Nah. We’ll be alright!” Luffy says, wiping a hand across his nose.

Zoro turns towards you, sheathing his swords.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine,” you say, your voice immediately taking on an unctuous sheen that makes Zoro take a step closer.

“You hurt anywhere?” he runs an appraising eye down your form and nods in the knowledge that at least you don’t look hurt.

“No… I —” you chew down on your bottom lip, fingers digging into the bare flesh of your arms. But you back away from him the moment he tries to take a step forward.

“Hey — quit that,” he taps at your wrist with the hilt of his sword, the touch hard but not harsh, forcing you to pull away.

“It’s — I’m — I’m alright,” you say, insistent and mollifying. Zoro runs his thumb against the hilt of his blades and scoffs.

“Liar,” he says, tossing the word casually back at you in a way that makes your breath hitch. Then, he turns, and marches below decks to tend to his own wounds.

A deafening silence rings out around you as you stare down at the ships blood-drenched planks before Robin places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“C’mon now — lets get your back looked at.”

Below decks, you find Zoro dabbing gingerly at a large slash on his right arm.

“Here, you’ve missed a spot —” you reach out to take the iodine soaked cloth from Zoro’s hand, only to have him jerk away. You flinch back, wide-eyed.

Zoro softens, if only ever so slightly.

“I’m fine,” he says, a harsh edge to his voice as he goes back to trying to twist around himself enough to see the spot he’s missed. You purse your lips, watching him for a second, two seconds, three — before you glance back at the place Robin had been only to realize that she’d gone.

“May… I?” you reach out your hand, palm up, tentative and imploring. But you hold yourself still, waiting for Zoro to make the next move. And he does, eventually, sighing as he turns back around to drop the piece of cloth into your palm.

You reach forward as he turns to his side, offering up his arm as you slowly start to wipe away at the bits of dried blood caking his skin to reveal the raw, red gash, the angry, raised flesh around it. You lean forward, blowing slightly as you daub at the wound, making your way down his bicep till the entire cut’s been coated in iodine.

“There. All done.”

You lean back to toss the cloth into the sink but Zoro stops you. He catches your wrist in his good hand and with a slight tug, has you toppling forward towards his chest.

“Turn around.”

His voice is soft, but firm. And it leaves no room for protests as you stare at him for a long moment before sighing and resigning yourself to your fate. You turn to show him your back.

A disgruntled huff is all you get before you hear the distinct sounds of Zoro rummaging around the first aide kit for a fresh piece of cloth, and the pop of the iodine bottle opening again.

“Who did this?” he asks as he slowly reaches out to tug a thin spike from your skin, small as a needle and just as sharp. You bite back a wince.

“The porcupine guy…” your voice trails off as Zoro grunts.

“Right.”

He tugs out another spike; it tinks against the metal of the sink as he tosses it away. A brief sting, and then the cooling feeling of the iodine cloth.

After a few minutes of working in silence, Zoro sighs.

“Geez, he really got you bad, didn’t he?”

“Not really,” you say, and you feel Zoro’s hands pause.

“No?”

You shake your head, “I’ve… been through much worse… and lived to tell the tale so…”

Zoro doesn’t need to ask to know that you’re talking about your past on the island, inside that windowless compound. He can see it in the scars that mar nearly the entirety of your back, the criss-cross lines of what looks like knife-wounds, the occasional puckered marks that look suspiciously like burns. He steels himself then, and continues to work — plucking out a spike and cleaning out the wound.

“You were right,” he says, when he finally finishes cleaning up your back and you both straighten to face each other. He wipes his hands clean and winces slightly as he flexes his newly bandaged arm.

“Right about what?” your voice is innocent, but the flash in your eyes tells him that you know exactly what he’s talking about.

“That first day — I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t… make sure that no one ever hurt you again.”

His fingers curl into fists at his sides and you can see the muscle ticking in his jaw as he clenches his teeth.

You reach out, tracing a thumb along his jawline. When you pull back, there’s a small daub of blood on your finger and you wipe it away without breaking his gaze.

“No, you couldn’t but… you tried.”

Zoro scoffs, “Tryin’s not good enough.”

“No,” you jerk up to glare at him, your voice harsh in a way that he’s only ever heard right after they’d rescued you, the edges of your words raw and ragged as a serrated blade, “trying is everything.”

interlude: truth or dare

It gets better after that, and you grow and bloom and grow some more. Zoro does too, though in his own way — he gets stronger, gets faster, hits harder. And though you two never quite agree on anything, he is always by your side, and you’re somehow always by his.

“’M not even a lil drunk —”

“Liar~” you singsong, giggling as Zoro shakes his head, tipping the remains of a bottle of sake back down his throat before wiping at his lips with the back of his hand.

“Mm… ‘s that all I am to you? Just another guy who lies?” Zoro swings lazily on the hammock hung on the main deck, his eyes half-lidded and alight with the dancing firelight.

“Stupid question — drink,” you answer, bringing our own bottle up to your lips.

Zoro laughs, quiet and pleased as he reaches for a new bottle.

“Alright then — truth or dare?” he asks, uncorking the new bottle and reaching out to offer you some. You bat him away, your movements languid and heavy, your back pressed against a heavy wooden barrel, one leg propped up to support your arm, the other stretched out long and lithe in front of you.

“Truth,” you say, your voice easy, your smile even more so.

“Alright then — do you trust me?” Zoro’s voice dips, and your eyes flash up. There’s a sobering light somewhere behind the alcohol soaked haze clouding his gaze and you can tell by the steadiness of his hands that he’s not nearly as drunk as he might seem.

“What do you mean?” you ask, casually evading the question.

Zoro tuts, “’S not an answer.”

“I’m asking for a clarification.”

Zoro shakes his head, taking another soft swig, “Simple question — do you trust me?”

You purse your lips, mulling over the myriad answers you could provide and make it sound like the truth. But that’s not really how the game goes. So instead, you take a deep breath.

“I — I want to,” and it’s the way your voice breaks that makes it honest, the way you can’t hold the truth in by the seams of your careful cadence, no matter how hard you try to smooth out the ragged edges.

“So… that’s a no,” Zoro says, keeping his tone even. You can’t help reaching for him — imploring.

“Not yet but —”

“Why?”

“Why… what?”

“I guess…” Zoro leans back, casting his eyes up at the wild, dark sky, careening above the ship in an ecstatic spread of stars and, long sinuous, moon-silvered clouds, “why d’you want to trust me? Doesn’t seem like something you’d be eager to do after… y’know, everything.”

You lick your lips and stare into the empty bottom of your glass.

“Honestly?” you say, “because you’re kind of a shit liar —”

Zoro lets out a soft, rumbling laugh, but doesn’t deny it.

“But… also because you’re the only person I’ve met who… who treats words so carefully — I mean…” you swallow, leaning forward slightly as Zoro drops his gaze back down to you, “it’s like — my whole life has just been people saying things they don’t really mean, and never meaning what they say, and then trying to figure out what’s really happening — trying to say the right thing, not the thing you mean but the thing you think they’d want to hear —” your breath quickens, “and — and if you don’t or if you’re bad at it, then bad things happen to you and the people you care about —”

“Hey.”

A hand presses down on your shoulder and you gasp, your breath knifing through your chest as you clasp your shaking hands to your sternum.

“Breathe. You’re okay.”

You nod, unable to say anything as Zoro sits in front of you, his hand like an anchor in a summer storm, keeping you tethered.

You breathe and take stock of your limbs — feet, legs, hands, arms. It’s then that you realize Zoro’s crouching in front of you, your drink glass resting by his side.

“Thanks,” you say, nodding as he gives your shoulder a slight squeeze before pulling away. Physical touch has never been one of your strong points, and it seems Zoro’s learned that without you ever having to tell him.

It’s strange — the sudden knowledge that somehow, his understanding of you has been wordless and implicit. Complete, from nearly the day the Straw Hats had picked you up on that island. You’d never had to explain, never had to draw your boundaries.

And yet somehow, he knew. As if he’d always just known.

“Truth or dare?” you ask him, your voice barely a whisper, shifting to make more space for him on the dark deck of the ship’s forecastle. Zoro sits down in front of you, crossing his legs.

“Dare.”

You don’t fight the grin as it lifts the side of your lips.

The quiet pulses between the pair of you like a heartbeat.

“Tell me a secret.”

“Gotta be more specific,” Zoro’s grin lilts to mirror your own.

“Any secret,” you say, “something you… something you wouldn’t otherwise say out loud.”

“Isn’t that what a secret’s supposed to be? Something you don’t say?”

You laugh, tasting the sound like a mouthful of champagne, bubbling up through you and spiraling towards the endless summer’s night.

“Quit stalling!”

“Think I wanna kiss you.”

A gasp slices through the air between you. You feel the weight of it in your throat, the white-hot flicker of his gaze as he glances down at your lips. You wet them without thinking, and as Zoro lean’s in, you can sense the night around you slowly coalescing into something warm, something solid. Like a marble clutched in a child’s palm, or a pearl held on an oyster’s velvet tongue.

“Truth or dare?” he asks.

He stops just short of your lips, his nose almost grazing yours. You can nearly taste the sweet sake on his breath —

“Dare.”

“Close your eyes.”

Your lashes flutter and for a second, an eternity revolves in the space between your heartbeats. Faintly, you register the gentle rocking of the ship as an indolent wave catches her starboard side.

You close your eyes.

For a second, there is space. For a second, there is breath. For a second, there is gravity. And then — all of that disappears. All of it eclipsed by the kiss. And then, the kiss is all there is.

All there was, and ever will be.

There’s a graze of fingers against skin, the bump of legs against legs against thighs against knees — there’s knuckles and noses and hair falling, hair being tugged into closing fists. There’s the clink-clink-clink of earrings, and the clatter-clap-clat of swords and hilts and rough, wooden planks.

There’s the dull thunk and baseline rumble of a glass being knocked over and rolling away.

But all of that is afterthought. All of that is supplement, a postscript, marginalia and footnotes.

Because there, then — there is only the kiss, and nothing but the kiss: a catastrophe of inevitability, smooth as a secret, and whisper-sweet.

When the pair of you pull away, there’s a chaos of wings against your ribcage.

There’s the honeyed, lambent light in Zoro’s eyes as he grins down at you.

“Truth — or dare,” a breathless gasp punctuates your words.

Zoro’s grin only grows as he tips your chin back between his thumb and forefinger.

“Dare.”

It’s only then that you realize his cheeks are wine-flushed, his chest rising and falling nearly as fast as yours. You swallow slow and track his eyes as he watches the pale bob of your throat.

“Kiss me again.”

act iii: fool’s gold

It takes all of three hours for Sanji to get something out of Zoro, and three days before Robin and Nami manage to wheedle something out of you.

“No seriously! Things have been different since that one party we had —” Nami presses her palm to the kitchen table, here eyes wide. Robin sits on the couch, her expression one of mixed amusement and near academic interest.

“Different how?” you reach into the cookie jar and fish out a crumbled corner of what used to be a double chocolate chip cookie.

“Ugh! You know what I mean!” Nami turns to Robin, motioning towards you, “Help me here!”

Robin laughs, tossing up a graceful hand, “I suppose something does seem… changed.”

“Something?” you ask, licking at a smudge of chocolate on your thumb.

“Well…” Robin says, drawing out the syllable and making to examine the nails on her long, thin fingers, “it’s definitely not nothing.”

You allow yourself a smile, “Something’s definitely not nothing.”

Nami lets out a frustrated groan, but she’s smiling too.

It’s been long enough that you’d learned to relax around them, and you’d since also learned that nothing is so sacred as the sanctity of sisterhood. That bonds between friends might be forged in fire and brimstone, but bonds between women are forged in cinder and smoke — in the wreckage of after, when the fighting’s been done and all that’s left is the mending.

“What’s all this giggling about?” Zoro ducks into the half-ajar door, staring at the three of you.

Nami cocks an eyebrow; Robin shrugs.

You, for your part, smile and bat your lashes.

“Oh nothing,” you say.

“Just girl-talk,” offers Nami.

“Nothing to interest a legendary swordsman like yourself,” Robin polishes off.

Zoro’s eyes narrow, his gaze jumping between the three of you before it lands on you and he scoffs.

“Yeah, whatever. We’re docking soon.”

And that’s all he offers before sauntering back out of the room, leaving the door swinging behind him, but not before you catch sight of the redness at the tips of his ears as he hurries away.

You give it a beat of three seconds before pushing to your feet and following after, humming to yourself. Behind you, Nami and Robin share a knowing look.

“Definitely not nothing,” Robin says as she stands to follow you.

The island, if it can even be called that, is nothing more than a rough conglomeration of steep cliffs strapped together by a thin band of land barely wide enough to be categorized as a beach.

“Well! This is something!” Luffy declares, his arms akimbo on his hips as he stares at the island.

“Yeah… it’s uh… something for sure,” Usopp agrees, making a face as he squints at the cluster of rocks that look more like the jagged edges of a broken bottle than any kind of proper land formation.

“We’ll just anchor here for the night… get some good rest, and then...” Sanji’s words trail off, interrupted by a ghostly wail that rises from the gathering of dark cliffs, turning them into an echo chamber until it seems to rumble through the sand beneath them.

“… gold, all gold! — no, not a liar — please!”

A shiver etches itself up your spine and instinctively, you wrap your arms around yourself.

Zoro steps out in front of you, as if to shield you from whatever might come. His thumb presses against the hilt of his swords, his shoulders tense as corded wire.

“Uh… everyone else heard that too, right?” Chopper asks, peaking out from around Robin’s legs.

“Yep. Definitely not just you,” Sanji confirms.

Luffy grins, “Seems like there’s someone else on this island! Maybe they can show us around!”

Time passes by strangely on the island — one minute, the sun is still hanging low on the far horizon, and the next, the sky is the color of a bullet wound, darkness seeping in around the horizon.

“Whoever’s here on the island — they sure aren’t making it — easy —” Sanji grunts as he hoists himself up a slippery piece of rock face, sweat glistening on his forehead as he squints into the looming blackness.

“Luffy? You sure you know where we’re going?” Nami shouts, her voice ringing back in a way that makes everyone wince and cover their ears.

Zoro grabs your elbow a second before you slip, fingers digging into your flesh even as you steady yourself against him.

“Sorry — thanks,” you say, unsure of which one you really mean.

“Yeah! I can smell something — like a campfire! And… cooking!” Luffy’s voice calls back from somewhere in the gathering dark. Everyone shares a glance before bracing themselves and trudging on.

By the time you all catch up to Luffy, no one is certain of what time it is, only that it’s dark. But the kind of darkness that seems to cling to the skin — a darkness so dense it starts to take on shape and weight.

It presses in around you and you feel your breaths shortening in your chest.

Beside you, Zoro reaches out to brace a hand at the small of your back.

“Oh! I see a light ahead! C’mon!” Luffy’s voice rings out from somewhere up ahead, followed by the patter of sandals on stone. The rest of you follow, and then all too suddenly, light flickers to life in what seems to be a huge, subterranean cave deep within the cliffs of the island. It casts stark shadows against the slick, cavernous walls.

You frown, goosebumps rising along your arms and legs.

But before you have time to dwell on the wrongness of something there, Luffy’s voice snags your attention like a thread on an errant splinter.

“Hi! Oh, wow — that looks delicious!”

You turn a corner to find Luffy hunkering down over a blazing campfire and the silhouette of someone sitting opposite him, a sharp spike held out in front of them, turning slowly over the flickering flames.

“Oh… please… come join me — sit and listen to a story — I have so many stories — so many adventures to share!” the figure across the fire seems to quiver with the dancing flames, his voice filling up the whole of the cave, loud and boisterous and eager. But strange and hollow too.

You frown, chewing on the insides of your cheeks.

Ahead of you, Usopp and Chopper both take tentative seats next to Luffy, who had cheerfully plopped down next to the fire.

“Wow, this looks great! Are you here by yourself? I’m here with my crew! Are you a pirate too?” Luffy asks, his endless enthusiasm pouring from him like a spring.

Robin, Nami, and Sanji all hold back, but you take a step forward, and then another. Something compelling you towards the voice, pulling you closer. There’s a desperation, a loneliness with which you’re all too familiar — you inch closer, and then closer, till you’re almost level with Luffy, and you lower yourself to the ground next to him, Zoro dropping down beside you, his knee pressing against your leg in a silent reassurance.

“Come… come closer! It’s a good story — I promise!”

“Truth,” you mutter, just beneath your breath. Beside you, Zoro lets out a puff of breath, though his stance doesn’t loosen.

Behind you, you can hear the distinct sounds of the rest of the crew drawing just a step closer.

“Once upon a time… there was a city on an island where everything, and I mean everything was made of gold!”

The figure across the fire sounds cheered, elated even. Behind you, you feel Nami take half a step closer. Cold seeps into your veins despite the warm, dancing flames, and your fingers dig into the hard packed earth beneath you.

“I found it — I did! With my crew — the best sailors and seamen around! But the king… he was greedy! And he wanted his own men to take the treasures, so he forced me to lead them to the city again —”

“Truth,” you say again, but something in the tone of the figure’s voice makes you frown.

“Except… the city had gone… and there was nothing left… nothing but lies!”

You shudder back, swallowing hard. All around you, the darkness presses in with long, thin tendrils like so many loving fingers. The fire flares up, casting sparks up towards the cave’s ceiling, where stalagmites hang like broken teeth in a petrified monster’s maw.

“Oh… don’t be scared… come back — I won’t hurt you —”

“Liar!” you spit, the word scraping its way out of your throat.

Zoro leaps to his feet just as Luffy does the same. The fire flares again, a second before snuffing itself out, but in that second, you finally catch sight of the figure, hooded in shadow, sitting across from you — it has the shape of a man, tall and broad, but the limbs of a spindle-legged monster. It wears the darkness like a cloak, with beady, red eyes and a too-wide mouth.

“Don’t! Call me a liar! That’s what they called me — that’s what they called when they killed me! KILLED ME FOR TELLING THE TRUTH!”

You scramble back, Zoro nearly lifting you off the ground in his haste to pull you away. Luffy whips back his arm and swings it forward but all it catches is tendrils of shadow.

“Hey! That’s not nice!” he shakes off his fist, frowning as he stares at the bits of wriggling darkness still clinging to his skin.

“Run!” you shout as everyone bolts for the lightless path you all took to get to the heart of the cave.

“NOT A LIAR! NOT A LIAR! I FOUND IT! THE CITY! BELIEVE ME! BELIEVE ME!”

You clap your hands around your ears and race for what you hope is the exit. Behind you, you can hear the distinct sounds of Zoro’s blades whistling through the air*.*

“Damnit! How’dyou fight a shadow? There’s nothin’ to hit!”

“Quit tryna hit it and just run!” Sanji’s voice answers a second before he breezes passed you.

“Why don’t you believe me? Why?!”

“We — I believe you!” you shout, your chest a thundering mess of footfalls and scrambling bodies, and against all instinct, you turn around to face the darkness again, cupping your hands around your mouth, “I believe you! I know — I know you’re telling the truth!”

“What’re you doing?” Zoro asks, leveling himself by your side, his arm pressing against yours. Behind you, the thinnest sliver of light is creeping into the cave from what you assume is the entrance.

Morning. Has it really been that long?

Time is the greatest liar, you remember, suddenly, violently, the thought tearing through you like teeth.

“I — he’s telling the truth,” you say through gritted teeth, even as you take a few steps back. Inside the cave, the figure seems to shrink back from the encroaching light.

“What truth?” Zoro asks, his blade held aloft, his stance wide and ready.

“All of it,” you say, forcing your voice to be gentle, turning your face back towards the darkness, “I know, I can hear it — I know you’re telling the truth — about the island, the city — all of it!”

“Yes… all I wanted was to get back to the city… but… no one believe me… and I died… I died for it!”

“I know, and I’m sorry… no one should be punished for telling the truth —” your voice cracks.

“I tried!”

“I know…” you say as the figure shrinks and shrinks and shrinks and the light behind you grows and grows and grows, until you can feel the warm seeping into the skin of your back.

“And trying is everything,” you say, biting your lip as Zoro wraps an arm around your waist.

“Come with me… I’ll take you to the city — we can go together!”

You shake your head, heat prickling at your eyes as you turn away from the darkness of the cave and towards the light of the oncoming day.

“Liar…” the word falls from you like a rock, or a tear, cast off the cliff that greets you and Zoro as you both stare over the edge. The rest of the crew is nowhere to be found, but Zoro’s arm is still around your waist, and you can feel his warm breath by your cheek.

“Hey — do you trust me?”

You look up; in the dawning, morning light, Zoro, with his sun-kissed skin and dark moss hair appears to be limned in gold.

And maybe it’s the air, or the sea, or simply the angry pieces of this jagged, left-behind island of shadows like broken teeth trying to tear apart the sky, conducting his voice into a cacophony of echoes that sing and scream through the crags and eves of the valley beneath — but the whole island seems to reverberate with the question —

Do you trust me?

You close your eyes and breath. When you open them again, your heartbeat is steady. And when you speak, the rising sun streaks the tips of the saw-toothed peaks in strokes of molten gold. The valleys beneath you conduct your answer into an entire single-syllabled symphony —

Yes.

You feel his arm tighten around your waist, the wind as it tangles soft fingers in your hair. All around you, everything is light, and light, and light.

“Jump!”

You close your eyes, and jump.

-----

footnotes/appendix

uso-uso no mi translates to "lie-lie fruit"; i made it up bc it would be too op to have in the actual animanga i think

the "acts" refer to a classical 3-act structure that most movies/plays/scripts are written in: setup, confrontation, and resolution... with a smattering of other things sprinkled in for ~vibes~

in much of classical japanese and chinese mythology, foxes are associated with trickers and lies, often turning into beautiful women to deceive men, luring them into forests and mountains before taking their lives

the "figure" in the last scene is... can you guess? noland! kudos to anyone who figured it out as they were reading *\ (>o<) /*

did i absolutely take the "do you trust me" line from disney's aladdin??? HELL YEAH i did !!!! tru trust is my kink u__u

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gojobbg · 10 days

Note

okay so ur writing is so good wth. i wanted to request smth...

hear me out: toge with a partner who's never been able to finish with anyone in bed before. like all he would have to do is use he cursed speech....

i'm crying screaming and slamming my keyboard. this is such a hot concept, stop. I wish we saw more of him in this series, they did my man dirrtyyyyy. thank u for your compliment & thank you for this req anon, i got u <3

pairing: reader(f) x bf!inumaki (aged up)

synopsis: you didn’t want to admit you were never satisfied. It was simply that previous partners weren't able to keep up or just didn't care to put in the work in bed. But for Inumaki, your satisfaction was before anything. He couldn't finish if you didn't, first. And he knew exactly what to do.

warnings: shower sex, oral (head), overstimulation, sexual use of cursed speech

a/n: i got nothing, just thank you for the req and thank u to everyone who enjoys my writing :)

You didn't think you were that hard to satisfy, but history seems to repeat itself in torturous ways.

Before you dated Toge, your sex life was very...unfulfilling to say the least. Left and right, all the men you've dated or just fucked could never quite reach you to the point of ecstasy. Having to fake an orgasm became subconscious to you, and you never learned to speak up for yourself and your sexual needs. That was, until you met Toge.

Toge was different from the men you've met prior. Though he was a man of very few words, he was an amazing listener and a better lover. In the few months that you have been dating, Toge has been the most considerate gentleman of them all. He's never verbalized his love, but you've always felt it in his actions.

After a very uncomfortable conversation regarding your unfulfilling sex life, Toge was determined to make love to you. The way it's supposed to be done.

But tonight was different. Toge's plans were far beyond what you could have ever imagined.

On your way home from work, you were welcomed into a recently cleaned house. Toge purposely took on an early mission instead of his usual night venture, making it opportune. to surprise you with a clean house. As you put your bag down, Toge quickly met you in the hallway.

You smelled the familiar scent of pine needle and cedar atlas. The woody musk that emanated from his body complimented his lazy, home fit. He was draped in a black long sleeve shirt, the cotton fabric that allowed him to stretch the way he likes. With hands stuffed in his gray sweats, the man stood before you proudly.

"Hi, m'love," you coo quietly. While you took off your shoes, Toge crouched down to meet your height and smiled warmly. It was rare to see his mouth, the Snake Eyes and Fangs seal sitting comfortable at the ends of his lips.

He gently pats your head with his hand, "Kelp." With his other hand, he grabbed your slippers from the rack, and placed them before you. Your heart flutters as you slipped your tired feet in them and adjusted. "Salmon roe," Toge says quietly.

Hmm? You wonder in your head as the tall, slim man turned the corner to the kitchen. You follow swiftly behind him, only to find dinner ready at your small dining table. "Oh Toge, you didn't have to!" You exclaim at his kind gesture. Due to Toge's constant night missions, you took on the role to cook for you two. But since he decided to take a daytime mission, he had enough time to rest and cook.

Toge only smiles widely before pulling your chair back a bit and waiting for you. He was so good to you, your heart could break out of your chest from profound emotion. You felt warm, and your whole body felt like it could float. You take your seat and feel him push you in slowly. He takes his seat across from you and giddily watches as you take your first few bites.

The flavors saunter in your mouth like two lovers in a tango, "oh my goodness, Toge!" You nod your head in approval, "this is so good! You have to teach me one of these days."

Toge truly paid attention to you when he makes no advances on you until you were showered. He knew you wanted to wash off your day, especially with how taxing your job was. So although he wanted to kiss you desperately, he also knew a thing or two about patience. But, you would never push away his advances whenever his mood was over the roof.

With the shower already prepared (courtesy of your boyfriend), you quickly stripped and entered the shower. Warm water sent shots of pleasure through your body, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. Droplets of water streamed down your chest, with the dews hanging from your now erect buds.

As you rubbed soap all around your wet body, you heard the bathroom door open and close. "Toge?" You asked calmly. The sliding door of the shower was designed distorted, so you could see a body but not the details. He confirmed his presence with a gentle Salmon roe, so you smiled and carried on. But through the door, you noticed that the black and gray of his outfit was suddenly being removed from his body.

You decide not to question it and continue to clean yourself. But then the sliding door began to open slowly, and your lovers head peeped into the shower. He's seen your body before, but even so. "B-baby?" You stutter a bit, your face hot and crimson from his jade eyes.

Toge was completely stripped before you, verifying that your eyes did not deceive you. He was slim but toned, his muscles subtle but very present. His abs dented lightly down his stomach, his thighs ornate with shaded grooves of muscle. He completely enters his body and slides the shower shut, looking down at you with eyes full of hunger and lust.

"Just wanted to shower with me?" You ask curiously, your body completely ornated with lathered soap and pearl bubbles. He doesn't give a clear answer, you couldn't quite read his expression. "Toge?"

In a sudden movement, his hands cup your cheeks and he pulls your lips to his. His member pressed against your stomach, feeling it twitch eagerly from the long-awaited contact. His lips were always so soft and smooth as they massaged your bottom lip gleefully. They tasted of strawberry, and his mouth of lemonade after having a cup with dinner. He tasted of summer, the saccharine sweetness of his mouth and love tantalizing.

These were the moments of exception, when Toge could not contain himself. His hands found solace on your ass, his fingers denting into your cheeks desperately. He rubbed them lovingly, squeezing and pulling them. He would slide upwards to rub the tips of his fingers against the dip of your back. He couldn't get enough of you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, your hands playing with his platinum locks. Toge grew his hair quite a bit, his spikes no longer able to stay up. They hang just before his shoulder blades, his locks sticking on his back due to the water. His skin was rough due to his extensive collection of scars but you didn't mind. This is Toge, and you loved everything about him.

He pulls back quickly, your lips missing his warmth. You look at him trivially, waiting for his next move. His eyes burn into yours, his jade eyes dimming. He takes both of your wrists and turns you around. Now facing the wall where the shower head hung, he guides your hands to the wall. The shower now focusing its water on your ass, you look back anxiously at your silent lover. "B-baby? What are you--ooh!"

Toge's lips found their way to your upper back, kissing along your spine. He peppers his kisses downward, using his tongue occasionally to lick along your back. Reaching your ass, he begins to plant multiple kisses on each cheek before his hands find their way to your inner thighs. He pushes them away from each other, with you following his lead and separating them.

In moments, you felt those soft lips against your own. You jump, not expecting to feel his tongue begin to drag in the crevice of your cunt. You could feel your legs already going weak by just the start, his lips finding his way to your leaking hole. He adjusts himself so you could see his head below you, giving you a mischievous smile before taking hold of your hips.

He brings his head back between your thighs, his sharp nose just grazing your clit. "mmm, babyyy," you whined, your toes curling from Toge's sporadic sharp breaths. His cool tongue lapped around your hole before sticking it in fully. His lips were pursed around your cunt, sucking gently before becoming a bit more aggressive. Precum slid out from your cunt like sap from a tree, with Toge desperately wanting to taste you more. "my clit, p-please..."

He hums against your pussy in response, his tongue finding its way to your pearl. He struck gold, your body beginning to tremble as the tip of his tongue twirled around your pretty clit. He licks you selfishly, occasionally sucking it with his teeth teasingly grazing it. You twitched every time he slowly dragged his tongue up your clit.

"s-so good, it f-feels so good, Toge," you moan out, your nails beginning to claw at the porcelain wall. His mouth on your cunt, warm water crawling down your spine. Your body was in paradise, and you were only getting closer and closer to finishing. But, Toge suddenly stops, looking up to see your exasperated face. Your chest was heaving, with your breasts hanging above him, covered in suds and temptation.

He gives you another smile before finding his way back behind you. You were able to relax a little bit, but Toge immediately got to work. He closed your legs, but kept you pressed against the wall. Holding your hip with one hand, he uses his other to rub the tip of his cock at the folds of your pussy. "ahhh..." you moan, eagerly waiting to take him in completely.

Birth control was the best decision you made. You loved feeling his raw cock slowly slide into you. You loved hearing the string of grunts leave his lips, his body shivering from the feeling of your tight walls. It filled you up lovingly, his tip just kindly reaching your g-spot. He whispers another sushi ingredient, waiting for the cue to keep going. "yes, fuck-!"

He started off slowly, his cock going in and out of you. But Toge lacked the patience to keep that pace, and started to go much faster. "h-hey!" You yelp, your nails desperately wanting to dig into the wall. Your boobs hit one another with every thrust, inspiring him to fuck you a little more ruthlessly.

His hands find their way to your chest, his hands taking hold of each tit. He holds them firmly, with your buds now between his indexes and thumbs. The rest of his hands grip your mounds so he could press your ass completely against his body. The palms of your hands lost hold on the wall, with only the tips of your fingers keeping your balance.

He was fucking you the way you loved. His body and yours colliding with the load splashing of water that coated both of your bodies. His quiet grunts and groans did a number on your body, unable to control yourself. You tighten around his member even more, forcing him to slow his pace. But still, Toge rammed his cock in and out of you, your precum mixing with the water and soap that's long left your legs.

"b-baby, I'm gonna cum," you stutter out, "i-i can't hold it in anymore..."

With a few more aggressive thrusts, you let go and finish all over his cock. You felt it sputter out of your pussy, your legs beginning to shake from the overwhelming feeling. Getting fucked like this and finishing-- you would never let history repeat itself again. Toge removes his cock from inside you, holding your hips immediately to make sure you didn't lose your balance.

"Thank you..." you whispered, your voice slightly raspy from your exhaustion and the sex. But when you thought it was done, Toge turns you around to face him and lifts you up. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, while his hands held you up from your ass. "Toge! W-what are you--?"

Your back meets with the cold wall, and Toge's hands house themselves in the bend of your knees. His cock finds his way back into you, and begins to fuck you mercilessly. His purple eyes watched your body, biting his lip at the sight of your bouncing boobs and the way he was fucking you.

You, however, felt light headed from ecstasy. Your eyes stayed rolled at the back of your head. Your pussy was hot from the overstimulation. You had just came, and Toge was planning to do it again. He was fucking you with the same pace, his cock pushing out your juices at every thrust. "t-too much-- baby, i-it's too much...!"

Your words quickly escape you, only strings of curses and overwhelmed grunts. But Toge was relentless, railing you while keeping eye contact. His cheeks were rosy, his hair completely drenched and sticking to his forehead. His lips were slightly agape, taking in air in desperate breaths. He then winked at you before pressing his torso completely against yours.

His lips found its way to your ear, his jagged breaths tickling it. But then, it happened. "cum for me," Toge demands in a breath, your body contorting immediately from his words. Nails dug into his back, toes curling profusely. You felt your warm juices spill out of you, your pussy twitching around his cock, your body writhing in his hold. Then, in seconds, Toge came as well, filling you to the brim with his warm, sticky cum. He coughs a bit, but he slowly pulls out of you and gently places your feet back on the ground.

You had no words, relying on Toge to finish showering you, wrap you up in a towel, and carry you to the bed. He sits you down on the corner of the bed before running to get you a shirt from his drawer. You slowly slip into it, your eyes following your lover as he dried himself off before finding his own pajamas to slip into.

You continued to watch him as he went to turn off all the lights in your apartment except for the bedrooms. He returns to you, pulling out the covers and pulling the blanket over your body. Toge joins you, taking you into his arms as he rubbed the back of your slightly damp hair.

"Toge?" You ask quietly. He looks at you in your eyes, anticipating your words. "Was that your first time, um... doing that?" Purple eyes don't dare flicker as he nods silently. "Please... please keep doing that."

With a wide smile, a satisfied Salmon leaves his tongue.

a/n: i hope this was good xo. pls continue to fill my inbox with your horny fantastics here (im begging)

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #inumaki toge #reader x inumaki #toge inumaki #inumaki x reader #jjk inumaki #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you

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merakiui · 2 years

Note

Hello :D! I just want to let you know how you always make my heart explode every single day i read your new updates or view back from your old masterpieces (especiallyat2aminthemorning). I've been reading your works for a while now, but you don't fail to always make my toes curl and laugh to myself lmao. I am ever so grateful and blessed to be able to find out about your acc (during one of my rough nights) and be notified of your new updates almost every time i open this app. I hope you are always in great health and away from any sort of harm xx (^3^)/～☆

HELLO!!!!! Thank you so so so much for this incredibly kind message omg!!!!! >_< I’m so touched! This is the sweetest message I have ever read aaaaaaa... ♡

I am always happy to be able to make hearts explode, toes curl, and make others laugh! Thank you for always enjoying and reading what I post, even if it’s my nonsense ramblings hehe!! I’m so grateful to receive a really nice message like this one! I hope my works can continue to help you during your rough nights and I also hope you will remain in wonderful health and never encounter any harm!!!! xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! o(≧∇≦o)

#sweet messages #AAAAA TRULY THANK YOU ANON FOR YOUR KIND WORDS <3 #i will frame your message in my mind forever hehe many thank you!!!! a million thank you!!!!!!!!

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catnipaddictt · 4 months

Note

Clay surviving and finding the love of his life?

clay beresford x reader

wc: 1k

cw: fluff, kissing, spoliers for Awake (2007)

comment: I love love love Clay, so thank you anon <3

Clay was absolutely smitten. After his ordeal during his heart surgery a lot had changed for him. One of those being you. He never thought that he would be capable of love again. Sam’s betrayal made him doubt himself everyday and showed him the lengths people would go to in order to have access to his fortune.

He met you sometime after his surgery, but was still apprehensive about letting you into his life. Slowly but surely, over time he began to open up to you. He told you about his childhood, his mother, and eventually what happened during his heart transplant.

You were patient with him, something he valued in you. You let him speak and always listened so intently to what he had to say.

When he realized he was developing feelings towards you he was conflicted and confused. He truly thought he wouldn't be able to produce these kinds of emotions again. Clay wanted to trust you, he knew he could, but he couldn't shake the memory of Sam and the plot against him.

It took time for him to figure out what he was going to do about his attraction towards you. He wanted you but at the same time his brain told him it was a bad idea. That getting caught up in romance would lead to heartbreak and more devastation.

You however fell head over heels for Clay. He was passionate and spoke in a way that made you feel as if he was taking in every breath you took. You didn't want to scare him off so you pushed those feelings down to the deepest pit of your very being. You couldn't bear to ruin your friendship with the blonde.

After weeks of debate with himself, Clay came to his decision. During one of your weekly sit downs at a cozy corner cafe, he took your hand in his.

Looking across at him, you felt the warmth of his skin against your palm. You prayed he didn't notice the heat rising on your cheeks or the shaking of your hands. His soft blue eyes looked into yours as his thumb gently ran across the back of your hand.

As he spoke, he looked softly at you, eyes never leaving yours. He told you about how he had come to see you more than just a friend, but that he was confused with himself. Although you would never be able to understand the extent to which he was affected by Sam, you knew that this was hard for him.

After he had admitted his feelings towards you, you were left slightly stunned. Clay Beresford really liked you? You felt like a schoolgirl who just found out that their crush liked them. Breaking the pause in conversation, you let out a grin so big Clay thought he could have another heart attack from the slight.

He was surprised as you told him you felt the same about him. He couldn't believe that sweet little you thought of him the same way he did you.

You both took things slow in the beginning. You knew that Clay still suffered with internal doubt about your relationship, so you made it your mission to show him how much you truly cared about him.

As time went on, he realized that this was real, and that you weren't faking your feelings to get his credit card number. Once he came to this conclusion he felt more like himself than he had in a long time.

Holding hands while on a walk turned into peaks on the lips and eventually, you staying the night at his luxurious home. It felt so right for the both of you.

You fell into a steady rhythm with each other. The pair of you were obsessed with each other, seeing the other was the highlight of your day. Clay was thankful for your understanding when it came to his past. And you were delighted to try and help him through this.

Many months went by, and it was safe to say that you both were well and truly in love with each other. The first time you said those three words to each other was a calm Saturday afternoon. The sun shine illuminated Clay as you strolled through the public gardens. The autumn leaves fell around the two of you as you walked hand in hand across the grass.

The leaves that littered the ground were still damp with that morning's dew causing you to tread carefully. Unluckily for you, you stepped down without looking into a particular slippery leaf. Before you know it you were sliding onto the ground, directly into a pile of leaves probably left by some children. Clay's hand was lost from yours as you landed in the pile, causing a laugh from him.

Before you knew it you were both laughing at your clumsiness and he was reaching out his hand to help you back up. Seeing your chance you took his hand only to pull him down into the leaves with you. As he toppled towards you he let out a noise of surprise before landing beside you.

You laughed as he turned over, lying in the leaves on his back. You followed suit, lying down next to him as the sun hit you through the barren branches of the trees above.

You sense his head turn to face you, his eyes looking into you. Turning your body to face him you smile at his now messy hair, leaves stuck in it. You pluck out a few golden ones, moving his hair around softly

“I love you” he says abruptly, your eyes locking on each other. You break out into a smile which fills Clay with butterflies. “I love you too Clay.”

His eyes shine at your words as he pulls you closer to him, leaves sticking to the both of you. He places a sweet kiss on your lips, which you return swiftly. Pulling away you laugh at all the leaves still stuck in his locks.

“You look nice like this” you say to which he lets out a laugh that is so very him. “You always look nice sweetheart, even if you are covered in leaves” he replies smoothly before sitting up and getting to his feet. This time you let him pull you to your feet before your hand is in his again.

You felt like the luckiest person alive and you could bet that Clay felt the same.

Let me know if there are any errors or if you want to be added to the taglist!

Taglist: @heartsforanakin @qvnthesia @ysrjune

#clay beresford #clay beresford x reader #clay beresford fluff #clay beresford x you #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen #hayden christensen fluff #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x you #hayden christensen imagine

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tkwrites · 3 months

Text

It Doesn't Matter Part I - Nico Hischier x ofc

Gif from offside-the-lines

Title: It Doesn’t Matter - Part I

Part I | Part II | Part III | Playlist

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Beginning: Nico Hischier x Original female character

Summary: Nico and Lena have been friends ever since he played in Halifax. When an opportunity of a lifetime brings Lena to New York, Nico offers up his apartment as her home base despite the fact that he’s been painfully, desperately in love with her for the last six years.

Warnings: Slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, talks of masturbation, but nothing is described, Cliff hanger ending (I’m sorry, I had to!)

Word count: 7,300

Anonymous asked: I saw that you rebloged the Nico fic so I have to ask would you ever be open to write for him?, because the combination of your perfect writing and that sweet man, I would die for sure 😂

Comments: A thousand thanks to 🥭 Anon for requesting this fic! Nico has been such a fun, sweet character to write. I’m sorry for the cliffhanger ending, but I envisioned this fic in 3 parts, and this one had to end here. I hope you enjoy it!

If you liked this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing.

It Doesn’t Matter - Part I

“You coming to the bar tonight?” Jesper asked.

“I can’t, I’m helping Lena move in.”

“Wait,” Jack said, barging his way into their conversation as per usual, “Lena, Lena? Like Lena from Halifax who you’ve been in love with since you were seventeen?”

Nico felt a blush flood his cheeks as he nodded.

“Moving in?”

“She’s coming to New York for an art program this year, so I told her she could stay with me.”

Jack stared at him, one of his eyebrows cocked up. “You’re sure that’s a good idea?”

Nico shook his head.

“No it’s not a good idea, or no you’re not sure?”

He shrugged. Hell if he knew. He was thrilled to have her close by but knew it would likely be torturous at the same time.

“Who is Lena?”

“She’s this girl he met when he was playing for the Mooseheads,” Jack explained. “You haven’t heard about her? He never shuts up about her.”

Blushing, Nico tossed an elbow pad in Jack’s direction.

“Did you stay with her family or something?”

“No,” Nico said. “She was friends with our goalie.”

“They’ve been besties ever since, and Nico still hasn’t grown the balls to ask her out.”

Nico glared at him.

“What?” Jack asked, shrugging. “You haven’t.”

“It’s complicated.”

“What’s so complicated about it? You like her. She’s single. You’re single. What’s the problem?”

“I don’t…” he broke off.

Keeping Lena as a friend was more important than the possibility of him spilling his feelings and risking losing her. Plus, he wasn’t totally sure she’d respond the way he wanted, and he was pretty certain he wouldn’t survive it if she turned him down.

“So, in the meantime, you’re just breaking up with every girl you’ve dated and overlooking every other woman because they don’t measure up, but you won’t ask her out, so you’re just pining full time.”

It was stunning, really, how he could talk so accurately about other peoples relationships without seeing the flaws in his own. Nico knew from experience not to bring Madeline up. In situations of talking about failure in relationships, Jack could dish all day long, but he could never quite take it if it was served back at him.

“Betty at 2:00,” Jack murmured. Watching a petite woman with light hair enter the bar. She had a pretty, heart shaped face and big, expressive eyes.

She turned around, laughing at whoever was following her. Despite the fact that he couldn’t hear her, Jack knew her laugh was the kind that made other people want to laugh along.

Instead of the friend he expected, Nico stepped into the bar after her, looking a little punch drunk.

Jack nearly choked on his beer.

Well, shit.

If Lena was as funny and sweet as Nico made her out to be, Jack didn’t think he’d be able to move on from her either.

She said something to Nico, and he tore his gaze from her to look around the bar. Their eyes met, and he raised a hand in greeting. Jack waved back.

As they made their way closer, Jack realized her hair was actually light pink. And she had a nose ring: a delicate, jeweled thing hanging from her septum. Instead of calling up a resemblance to a hooked bull, like he usually thought those piercings looked, it made her face more lovely and interesting. The dainty diamond rested in the curve of her cupid's bow, emphasizing the shape of her top lip.

Lena felt herself smile upon walking up to the group of hockey players and their partners. She’d grown up with boys like this, and walking up to them was a bit like walking into her childhood.

“It’s Jack, right?” Lena asked. She’d seen photos of him from Nico and recognized him right away, along with Jesper, who was sitting on his other side.

“In the flesh. You must be Lena,” Jack said, standing up. He shot her a flirtatious, charming smile.

She couldn’t quite hide her eye roll, “he’s just as cheesy as you said,” she whispered to Nico, who was still standing off to her left.

Shoulders shaking with laughter, Nico pulled out a chair for her before settling into the one beside it.

God, even in this awful club lighting, she looked beautiful. The finer parts of her face were dulled in the dim, but everything he could see made him long for her.

Maybe Jack was right. Maybe this was a terrible idea.

“So, Lena,” Jesper said, leaning back in his chair, “what brings you to the city?”

“I got accepted into an intensive year-long art program at the New York Institute of Art. I’ve been applying for years, and they finally accepted me.”

“What kind of art do you do?” Dawson asked.

He’d wandered to the table as soon as they sat down, and Nico was talking himself down from moving to sit between them. Dawson wouldn’t stop looking at Lena like she’d just fallen from the moon, and he wanted nothing more than to fall into her bed.

“I paint, but I do a lot of charcoal drawings and pastels, too.”

“Like the colors?”

She was used to this question and laughed indulgently at the confused expression on his face. “No, pastels are just pigment with a binder. It’s kind of like paint, but they’re not liquid.”

“She does amazing stuff,” Nico cut in, knowing she wouldn’t brag about her own work. He was happy to do it for her. “She did all the art in my apartment.”

The first time Lena had visited him, she was aghast at how little was on his walls. It made his whole house look like a hospital - too sterile and characterless. No wonder he was depressed when he wasn’t playing. His home looked like a place made for leaving.

So she’d painted for him. Ten canvases in total. Most were landscapes, but there was also a small abstract he always suspected was a kind of self portrait and a strange, dark, modern piece - swirls of color chasing each other across the canvas. When he asked about that one, she’d told him his games inspired it - blurs of black and red darting around the ice.

She’d even done a large landscape of the view from his childhood window, based on a photo he’d sent her several summers before. Rows and rows of misty roofs tucked into the base of the Alps as the mountains loomed over the town. Somehow, she managed to capture the safe, cocooned feeling of home.

Every time he looked at the painting where it hung, taking up nearly the whole wall opposite his bed, it eased some of his homesickness during the long seasons in New Jersey.

For months, a package he didn’t order would show up at his door, and he’d open it to reveal yet another piece of her to keep with him.

When the Naters painting arrived, he’d called her practically in tears. She told him she knew he missed home and hoped it would bring a little bit of home to Jersey.

He forced her to accept repayment for shipping such a large canvas and made her promise to let him pay if she was sending any more. Instead, she’d brought an additional four with her on her next visit.

Dawson looked even more enamored as he said, “that stuff is really good!”

Nico couldn’t remember Dawson taking any particular interest in the art when he’d been at his house before. Jack had noticed it, which had spurred the conversation about Lena in the first place.

She offered him a thankful smile that Nico was pleased to see, was void of any flirtation.

They had a drink a piece before she began to yawn. Nico wasn’t surprised. She’d driven from Halifax to Maine the day before and then from Maine to New Jersey that morning. He’d helped her unload her things before she insisted they come to the kickoff party.

“I’m really sorry,” she apologized, covering her mouth.

“You’ve had a long day,” Dawson said, encouraging, “you should go get some sleep.”

She smiled indulgently at him before standing from the table. She really was exhausted. Plus alcohol always made her sleepy.

When they got home, Lena asked, “Do you mind if I let cookie out?”

He shook his head, going to the kitchen to get some water.

A few minutes later, her light orange tabby cat came skulking into the kitchen, eyeing everything suspiciously. When they made eye contact, Cookie narrowed his eyes as he stalked over.

After sniffing his socks, he seemed to decide he was the same person he’d always been and rubbed his face on Nicos leg.

Walking into the kitchen, Lena heard Nico murmuring in German. As always, it made her stomach twist a little. She’d known him for six years, and it wasn’t that she forgot he was from Switzerland so much as she forgot how sexy his voice sounded speaking the language he’d grown up with. Even with her limited understanding of German, she got the distinct impression he sounded more like himself than when he spoke English.

Rounding the kitchen island, she expected to find him crouched down, talking to one of his siblings on the phone while digging something out of a low drawer. Instead, his phone was nowhere to be found, and he was speaking to Cookie, who had flopped onto his side, happy to be receiving pets.

“Oh,” she said before she could stop herself. The sight of Nico loving on her cat made her heart thunk into her ribs.

This, right here, is why she originally told him she was staying in the city.

He had insisted there was no reason she needed to spend the money when he was right across the river. When she’d hesitated, he played his ace, bribing her with Cookie. “You can bring him, and both of you can stay,” he’d said, “you wouldn’t have to leave him with your parents.”

Even though she knew it would suck to be around him all the time, knowing he didn’t have any interest in her, she’d caved right away.

The problem with Nico was that he was just so damn sweet. He did everything from the bottom of his heart and was genuinely happy to help. As soon as she managed to convince herself she didn’t love him, he would go and do something like insist she stay with him not only for finances, but because she wouldn’t have to leave her cat behind, and feeling would swoop into her heart again.

This was her last undoing for the night. Not only had she watched him carry her things into his apartment, his hockey-hardened body taking the brunt of the weight with ease, she’d had to listen to him laugh and tease while he flashed his dimples at her all day. And now, he was sweet talking her cat in German.

God, how was she going to survive this?

Nico’s eyes darted up at her noise. He hadn’t heard her come in. She’d pulled her hair into a bun on the top of her head, but a few of the shorter pieces had escaped, falling around her face.

Throughout the time he’d known her, her hair had been many different colors. When they met, it had been blonde, then ginger, then purple, then blue. She dyed it back to her natural ashy blonde for a while before going to this pastel pink she’d been maintaining for the last two years. When he asked her why she’d kept it for so long, she said, “I don’t know, it just looks like me.”

He had to agree. It looked incredible on her, making her skin warm and her hazel eyes bright.

Wanting yawned in his stomach, and he tore his eyes away before she could see the lovesick expression Jack teased was written all over his face whenever he looked at her.

“I’m glad to see he’s making himself at home,” Lena said, laughing.

“He’s sweet,” Nico said, standing. “I thought you’d be in bed.”

“I wanted to say thanks again,” she said, stepping forward to hug him.

As his arms wound around her waist, Nico allowed himself a moment of fantasy, imagining she wouldn’t be going to her own room when they turned in for the night. He couldn’t stop his mind from continuing down the fantastical road that living together might be the thing that finally got them from friends over the hill to lovers.

“I’m happy to have you here,” he said when the fantasy had run its course, and he came back to reality.

Cookie meowed as if upset at being left out.

She broke away with a laugh and bent to gather him into her arms.

“Thank you again,” she said, leaning in to brush a kiss over his cheek.

Nico felt himself go still as stone. He couldn’t remember if she’d ever done that before.

“G’night.”

“Gute nacht,” he responded, barely holding himself back from waving as his mind was still caught on trying to process the fact that she’d actually kissed him. On the cheek, but still, her lips had been soft and warm, especially against the hard contrast of her nose ring.

He watched her disappear down the hall before he smacked a hand to his forehead. “Gute nacht,” he mocked himself. “You couldn’t think of anything better to say?”

He was a fool for thinking this was going to work.

The next thing he had never expected when he invited her to move in came the following morning.

Lena hadn’t stayed with Nico in his new place before. She couldn’t have. He upgraded to renting the three bedroom apartment in their building when it was finally settled that she would be living with him. That way, he still had a spare room for when family or friends came in town.

The day previous, she’d picked the room closer to his. Had he known — had he thought about it, he would have suggested she take the other one. He could have made up some bullshit excuse about how he didn’t want his snoring to keep her up at night.

Had he been thinking clearly, he would have noticed that her ensuite bathroom shared a wall with his bedroom. The very wall his headboard sat against.

As it was now, Lena, always the early riser, was in the shower. Right on the other side of the wall.

Waking up to the water drumming into the tile, it took him a moment to place the sound. Only when it shifted, quieting and changing rhythm did he realize what was happening - she’d stepped under the water.

With a sudden jolt, Nico realized that his headboard, some paint, sheetrock, a jumble of studs, and a few dozen white subway tiles were the only things separating him from her naked form.

The idea of it assaulted his senses until he was half hard and couldn’t think of anything else.

Cursing, he pulled a pillow over his face and groaned loudly. He couldn’t ask her to move now. He would have to explain why, and he wouldn’t be caught dead telling her he needed her to move because he couldn’t get the image of her naked, water trailing off her hair, dripping onto her breasts and pooling around her feet, out of his mind.

He groaned into his pillowcase again.

This went on for a few more minutes before the water changed again, increasing in pressure and beating a staccato rhythm against the tile. A second later, he heard the water shift and change again as well as a gentle thud, as if she’d fallen against the wall.

Knowing exactly what that meant, he vaulted out of bed, rushing to his own bathroom. He would not jack off to the sound of her in the shower. That was a step too far, but if he let his imagination run, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself. He’d thought of her many, many times while getting himself off over the years, but doing it while she was in his house, very likely getting herself off, felt like a step too far.

Cold water shocked him back into his senses, and he didn’t let himself think about it anymore.

Lena stepped out of the shower, feeling much better. Not only did she feel more rested, she was finally able to release some of the sexual frustration that had settled on her like a heavy blanket since arriving. She would have done it the night before, but showering was always part of her morning routine, and in the rush of moving and getting to the bar to meet Nicos team mates, she hadn’t fully unpacked, and couldn’t find her vibrator. She’d tried with her fingers, but it just didn’t work the same way. When she finally fell asleep, she was still feeling frustrated and needy.

After dressing and putting some dry shampoo in her hair, she walked into the kitchen only to find Nico scooping freshly ground coffee beans into the coffee maker, wearing nothing more than a towel. His hair was still wet, and she watched a rivulet of water wind its way down his back, all the way to the dimples at the base of his spine. Wanting sparked to life between her thighs again. So much for easing the sexual frustration.

“Morning,” she made herself say, refusing to be the creepy one watching him shirtless, core throbbing at the thought of him.

Nico jumped, and his hand snagged the towel around his waist before it fell. He thought he had more time. He wouldn’t have come out here in only a towel if he thought she would be out soon. He just wanted to have coffee made for her.

“I thought you were still in the shower,” he said by way of explanation.

“How did you know I was in the shower?”

“It’s right on the other side of my bedroom wall,” he informed her, trying to keep the guilt out of his voice.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckety fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Oh,” she said, hoping beyond hope the sound of the water had drowned out the accidental, desperate way she’d moaned his name when her climax finally hit.

She had to find her vibrator. Maybe she’d pick one up in the city, just in case. She couldn’t be getting herself off in the shower anymore. There was no way. Absolutely no way. Knowing he was on the other side of the wall would shrivel her sex drive like a dried out bean pod. There was no way she could get off to thinking about him, knowing he might be able to hear her, and then she would just be even more frustrated. It didn’t matter if she might find her vibrator unpacking later that day, she decided, she was getting one in the city. Better safe than sorry.

Pushing that idea away to think about later, she accepted the mug of coffee he held out to her.

“Oat milk, right?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation away from her showers proximity to his bed. “I found this pistachio kind I thought you might like,” he said, rifling in the fridge with one hand, the other still clasping his towel. He needed to pull it tighter but couldn’t with her in the room. At least the cool air was calming his flushed cheeks.

And just like that, the sweetness that was Nico Hischier burrowed its way into her heart again, easing some of the lust back into love. It was incredible how being seen made her feel. Not only with eyes but with words and actions to follow them up.

No wonder every man she’d dated in the last six years paled in comparison. Nico set an impossible standard for other men to meet.

And that wasn’t even taking into account the fact that he had the body of a god and the most empathetic, earnest brown eyes she’d ever seen.

They never even stood a chance.

He found the creamer he’d picked up the last time he was at the grocery. Lena loved all things pistachio, and when he’d seen the non-dairy creamer, he’d automatically put it in his basket for her to try once she got here.

When he turned to her, he had to push away thoughts of kissing her that often came up when he saw her smile the way she was now.

Setting the creamer down, he mumbled, “I’ll be right back,” before practically running to his bedroom. He threw on some shorts and a T-shirt. Coming back in, he found her sitting at the table, looking at her phone as she lifted the coffee mug to her lips.

“What are you up to today?”

“I’m going into the city. Find the best subway route to the academy, find my classes, that kind of thing.” Her courses didn’t start for another few days, but Lena knew she would feel better having explored first.

“If you can wait till I’m done with practice, I can come with you,” he offered.

Even as he kept his expression neutral, she could hear the undertone of unease in his voice.

“Nico, I’m going to be going out there by myself every day.”

“But you don’t have to do it alone the first time.”

It wasn’t like he knew the way any better. Lena knew for a fact that he didn’t take to wandering around the city for fun, and if he did, he drove in or took an Uber. Plus, she wouldn’t be able to get her vibrator if he came with her. She didn’t like thinking about the pity she’d find in his face at her inability to find a man to fulfill those needs for her.

“It’s not the first time. I’ve lived in the city before.”

“For three months when you were twenty,” he reminded.

“Exactly. It’s not my first rodeo.”

He never understood that expression. He’d seen a rodeo, and it didn’t seem like the kind of thing someone could grasp after doing it once. It was just another American idiom that always went over his head.

“Nico, I’ll be fine,” she said when he didn’t respond. “I have you on speed dial if I get stuck somewhere, okay?”

Biting his lip, he tamped down the overprotectiveness rearing up inside him. Lena was smart. She didn’t get herself into trouble. But she was also so pretty, and some men were dogs.

The look on her face, defiant and determined told him exactly how this was going to end.

“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “But you’ll call me if you get lost?”

“Yes. I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

Nico threw himself into practice. Hockey always managed to clear his mind when he was stressed. Even the sound of it - skates scraping the ice, pucks thwacking into sticks and the simpleness of communication - made everything else slip into focus. He didn’t have to worry about being an idiot or saying the wrong thing. He demanded the puck when he needed it and tried to get it into the net.

Practice was a reprieve from the stress of life. Of all life, all the time. But especially then with Lena in his house. He could skate her out of his mind and focus on simpler things.

Jonas came up to his stall as he was getting out of his gear.

“Can I still come get my box?”

It took a moment for Nico to remember. He’d had left his gaming console at his house a few days ago. “Yeah.”

When they walked into the house, he found Cookie, right at home, stretched out over the back of the sofa in a sunbeam.

“Since when do you have a cat? I didn’t think you liked cats.” Jonas asked.

“He’s Lenas,” Nico corrected. Jonas raised an eyebrow, which Nico chose to ignore. “And I don’t dislike cats. Cookie is sweet.”

“Cookie?” he repeated. “She named her cat Cookie?”

“Apparently she had a stuffed animal that looked like him named Cookie when she was little,” he explained with a shrug, trailing a hand over the cats silky fur.

Cookie trilled at him and arched his back for more pets.

The door opened behind them, and Lena herself walked into the apartment, flushed from her walk from the station in the cool autumn air.

Nico tore his eyes away from her before Jonas could give him another raised eyebrow at the look he knew was all over his face.

“Hey, Lena,” Jonas greeted.

“Hey Jonas,” she said with a big smile, giving him a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

They’d met in Switzerland a few months before when Lena had come after a trip to Italy with some friends. Her friends had gone home, and she’d caught a train to Bern to spend a few days with him before she had to get back to Canada. It was then that he’d learned about her acceptance into the academy and suggested she should stay with him.

After she went out and about with Nina, and he finished with training, they had all gone out for dinner and drinks at his favorite place, Tramdepot. Jonas’s girlfriend, Nola, was out of town, and had Nico not known she existed and that Jonas was head over heels for her, he would have been sorely tempted to end the night early so he and Lena would have to stop talking.

“You can’t be jealous if you’re never going to ask her out,” Nina had admonished him on the way home.

Knowing Lena didn’t speak German allowed him to be open and honest with his sister, even as Lena walked in front of them.

“She doesn’t date hockey players.”

Nina gave him a wry look, “she told you that?”

“No, she told her friend, Jessica. I overheard them.”

“What exactly did she say?” Nina asked.

“She said, ‘I don’t date hockey players.’ And then Jessica asked, ‘what about Nico?’”

“And she said?” Nina prompted.

“She said it doesn’t matter.”

“I think you should still talk to her.”

“She said it doesn’t matter, Nina,” he said, and there had been an embarrassing amount of whining pain in his voice.

Nina bit her lip, glancing at Lena, who was walking next to Jonas, asking something about the architecture.

“I can’t —” his voice had almost broken, “I can’t.” He couldn’t even get the words out.

He was in love with Lena. He knew that. And it was wonderful and painful and awful all at the same time. But the thought of asking her and having her say no - the thought of asking her and it changing their friendship forever? That was worse than the bitter, lovely pain of being in unrequited love. The idea of losing her was worse than knowing he would never have her in that way.

“Well, I should get going,” Jonas said, gesturing with the playstation and bringing Nico back to the present.

“I’m sure I’ll see you around,” Lena said, offering him another hug.

After Jonas left, Nico followed her to her room, leaning in the doorway. There were still boxes around, and he noticed a pile of clothes on the floor that she'd obviously pulled out of a box in search of her outfit for the day. He willed his eyes to skip over something lacy and green.

“How was it?”

“Fine,” she said, setting her tote bag carefully on the bed, making sure it wouldn’t tip over. On top of the vibrator, she’d bought lingerie. Not that she had anyone to wear it for. But the pink set had been on display and matched her hair. She’d asked to try it on on a whim and found she couldn’t leave it behind. Even if it was just for herself, the lace and mesh balconette bra and matching panties made her feel pretty and sexy. So what if no one else ever saw them? She’d know they were there, and that was enough.

All the same, she didn’t want Nico to see it. The thought of him knowing she’d bought lingerie when he knew she didn’t have anyone to show it off for made heat race to the surface of her skin.

When it wouldn’t stay upright, she tipped the bag gently, resting it against her pillows so nothing would spill out.

“Just fine?” he asked, worry edging into his tone.

“It was good,” she said, turning around. “I found everything fine. I only went three stops in the wrong direction once. My advisor seems nice, and all my classes are right in the academy, so I won’t get lost.” Walking from the room, she changed the subject, “how was practice?”

“Good,” he dragged a hand down his face, “I think we’re finally starting to gel as a team.”

“That’s great, Nico.”

“I hope it comes together before we head to Carolina.”

“I’m sure it will. If you’re already seeing that now, it’ll only get better in a week, right?”

He smiled, glad to have her sweet reassurance around. Though she never played hockey - “You would not want to see me on skates. I’m the most uncoordinated disaster of a baby gazelle you’ve ever seen.” - she’d grown up with siblings and friends who play and had a thorough understanding of the game and what it took to win.

That first month living with her was an awkward dance. When his first road trip came around, it was a relief to get away. He could finally breathe easy, not worried about turning any corner to find her being unassumingly lovely in some new area of the apartment.

But by the second night away, he found himself missing her and missing their evening routine of sipping tea while watching TV. She never complained when he pulled up one of his brothers games or something else Swiss as long as the subtitles were on, and he’d gotten way too sucked in to the ridiculous reality TV show she loved about couples living in a villa together, searching for love.

That second night, when missing her had settled into his chest in a way he hadn’t yet experienced, he almost turned it on for he and Jonas to watch before bed, just to get some comfort of home back. Instead, he’d tossed the remote to Jonas. Lena said she’d wait to watch it with him when he came back, and he didn’t want to let her down. Plus, he wasn’t totally sure he wanted Jonas knowing he enjoyed such trashy shit.

He missed the steadiness of her presence. He’d gotten so used to living alone, he’d forgotten how nice it was to have someone else in the house. She was always there if he needed a little comfort, offering a hug or a listening ear, or a back rub.

After he got home, they fell into a comfortable routine, weaving in and out of each other's lives. They would have coffee at the start of each day before she left for classes, and he left for practice.

In the afternoon, she worked on her art in the living room, and he liked to watch her paint or draw, silhouetted against the large window, if she was still there after he’d taken his nap.

She cooked dinner most nights. She wasn’t a chef by any means, but she enjoyed cooking, and he was always appreciative, even when something was burned. Plus, she owed him. The money he saved her by not having to pay for housing for a year wasn’t insubstantial. Cooking was a small way she could pay him back on the few nights he was home each week. She’d even made his favorite meal the day after a hard loss.

He gave her the cold he caught on their second trip. Something, he was sure, he got from Haula’s kids, and they were miserable together for a few days. He woke to her showering in the middle of the night more than once as she tried to clear her sinuses.

When Halloween came around, he asked if she wanted to go to the team party with him. It was the first time since he’d come to New Jersey he didn’t have to come up with a costume by himself or do something with one of his teammates. He’d had girlfriends before, most of them from Switzerland, but no one who was able to make it to the party.

They spent one of his off weekends figuring out what to wear. Lena was worried about giving people the wrong idea and shot down most of the suggestions that came up on her web search as they were all suited for couples.

Every time someone asked how long they had been dating, it was like being jabbed with a hot poker; pointing out everything she wanted but didn’t have.

In the end, they decided to go as people who had been stranded in the desert. She panted their cheeks to look sunburned and put dyed baby powder in their hair and eyebrows to mimic sand. They wore ripped, tan clothing and carried empty canteens.

When she’d come out of her room, he swore his heart nearly stopped upon seeing the open, artfully dirty button up shirt she wore tied over a tan colored bra. He’d seen her in a swimsuit before, so in theory, he’d seen this much of her skin, but this seemed more intimate than a bathing suit.

It sparked a new wave of longing in him.

More than once, Jack gave him an exasperated look when he caught Nico staring at her as she talked with the WAGs. He was obsessing over all the little details of her costume. The way one of her shredded khaki pant legs was higher than the other, showing the tattoo of a paintbrush crossed with a pencil on the inside of her right ankle, the stripe of her smooth low back visible between her shirt and pants, and of course, the flash of her cleavage anytime she turned toward him.

“You’re gonna have to make it happen, man,” he said, passing by to get another drink.

It took almost six weeks, but he got used to her fresh faced beauty being around all the time. It didn’t dull necessarily, but like living in a beautiful place, eventually, the beauty fades into the background until the lighting changes and everything is suddenly new and breathtaking again. While she was around all the time, it grew easier for him to push aside.

On a Saturday in early November, he came home from practice to hear her humming somewhere in the apartment. She wasn’t in the living room - in fact, her drop cloth and easel hadn’t even been set up.

Opening his mouth to call for her, his greeting died in his throat when he walked into the kitchen. She was in a tight, pink t-shirt, a matching pair of little boy short underwear and nothing else. His eyes were immediately drawn to the round swells of her ass peeking out from under the material.

He couldn’t look away. Even knowing he should say something, so she didn’t think he was just creepily watching her didn’t help him.

Forget looking like a creep. He was never forgetting this as long as he lived.

Lena turned around and jumped. Nico was standing in the kitchen doorway, mouth slightly agape. He’d been quiet as a mouse, and the shock of his sudden appearance sent her sandwich diving off the plate. It opened on its descent and splatted onto the dark tile, meat and condiment side down - because, of course, it did.

She swore, and it snapped Nico out of his reverie. He dropped to his knees to help clean it up.

As she knelt next to him with a wet rag to wipe the butter off the tile, her bare knee slid into his field of vision.

“I’m sorry I didn't say anything,” he said emphatically, feeling himself blush as he kept his eyes trained on the floor so they wouldn’t travel up the creamy expanse of her thigh.

Shaking her head, Lena stood, hoping he didn’t notice she’d practically turned the same shade as her shirt, “I’m sorry about this,” she said, gesturing to her legs. Of course he had to come home when she wasn’t wearing any pants. The shirt and panties had arrived that morning, and she had been trying them on when she decided to make a sandwich.

Nico looked up and felt his jaw go slack. Somehow, he managed to keep it from falling open. He could clearly see the slope of her breasts and a stripe of her stomach where the shirt didn't quite reach her underwear. He inexplicably wanted to bite the curve of her inner thigh.

He could only blink several times before he managed to look away. Made new in the harsh light of the kitchen, wanting her took over his thoughts, turning him into a bumbling idiot once again.

God, what wouldn’t he give to worship her any way she would let him?

“I didn’t think you were coming home until later. I would have put on pants.”

The fact that she apparently often didn’t wear pants when he wasn’t home burrowed into his brain to torture him later.

He managed to make some kind of noncommittal noise and stood up.

Lena scurried to her room, grateful that, at least, she had this new set on, and not a pair of ratty old undies.

She wished she could forget the shocked look on his face when he looked up at her from his knees. She’d envisioned him on his knees before her so many times, but none of those fantasies involved him staring open mouthed at her thighs.

A week later, as they were watching Love Island, Lena asked a question she never thought she would have to.

“When’s your next night off at home?”

Nico pulled up his calendar app, and flipped through the days, “Thursday.”

“Oh.”

“What’s up?” he asked, setting his phone on the side table.

“I…” Her cheeks flushed, and she bit her lip.

“What?” he asked, feeling nervous. She was going to tell him she started dating someone, wasn’t she? That she’d met someone while he’d been out of town. The prospect of it roiled in his stomach.

“I thought I had more time,” she said.

His fantasized dilemma fractured a little. “More time for what?”

She took in a calming, deep breath, looking up at the ceiling so she didn’t have to look at his face when she said it. “I need to — I need to do a nude study for my figure class.”

“So? You’ve done nude studies before,” he reminded, thinking about the sketches he’d seen in her portfolio. Part of this intensive training was figure drawing, which he knew she didn’t enjoy, but everything he’d seen looked near perfect to him. Smooth, curved lines, and strong, handsome faces. He didn’t understand what she was so worried about.

Professor Brown’s consistent feedback was that her drawings looked too one dimensional, that she wasn’t capturing the living essence of her subjects. She assured the class that, though it would be awkward, their art would be better when they could no longer pretend the person in front of them was a sculpture. The surefire way to do that? Take away the emotional distance between the artist and their model.

“Yeah, but those were with people I’d never met. My professor wants us to do a study with someone we know…preferably of the opposite gender. She said it would make the art more intimate.” Daring to meet his eyes, Lena felt a blush scorch her skin.

Understanding sparked in his face, and she watched his eyes widen.

“You want me to be your nude model?”

She licked her lips, “I thought about asking Jesper to do it, but that didn’t seem right.”

“Why Jes?” he asked, barely keeping the flair of emotion out of his voice. That was the last thing he wanted to hear. Not only was his love for her unrequited, she would be more comfortable sketching one of his teammates. One of his engaged teammates.

“I don’t know. I feel like he wouldn’t be weird about it since the swedes are always so,” she gestured to her own body, “open. But it felt too… intimate when he has Nicole and we’re…us,” she finished lamely, finally daring to look into his face.

His heart leapt into his throat.

We’re us? What did that mean? What was us? They were friends? She wanted something more than friendship? Hope reignited in his chest for the millionth time.

He cleared his throat, hoping she couldn’t hear his heart hammering. “What would -” he had to pause to clear his throat again. “What would it involve?”

“You’d just need to sit or stand for a few hours while I do some sketches.”

“Naked?” he asked, his voice squeaking over the word despite his attempts to stay cool, “or could I wear my boxers?”

“I need to turn in six sketches, but at least half of them need to be nude, so you would only need to be naked for part of it.”

He didn’t respond right away, trying to sort out and understand his own racing thoughts.

She nibbled at her lip, “I know it’s kind of a lot to ask.”

There were so many reasons he wanted to say no, but despite all that, Nico still found himself nodding. He could never say no to her, even if it meant he had to pose naked for her to sketch.

She felt her cheeks flush again. The thought of seeing him this way had nixed the idea of Jesper from her mind. She didn’t want to sketch his thighs, even if it would be less awkward than sketching Nico. She might never get the chance to see him naked in a romantic setting, so, selfishly, she was seizing the opportunity while she had it.

“Has to be Thursday?” he asked.

“Well, sometime in the next week,” she said. “If you’re not comfortable with it, I can ask Jesper.”

“It’s not that,” he said. Too quick, too desperate. If she asked Jesper, it would get around the locker room like wildfire that she’d asked him instead of Nico and on top of not wanting to let her down, he couldn’t take the chirping that would come from that. “It’s just fast.”

“Do you have another day off?”

He swiped through his calendar again and shook his head. “We leave for six days after the game on Friday.”

Her lips pursed together. The flush that was glowing on her cheeks made him smile. At least she was just as nervous as he was.

“Do you need me to do anything before? Shave or…anything?” he asked, gesturing to his chest.

She hadn't even thought about it. From what she remembered, Nico didn't have a huge amount of chest hair anyway.

She'd known going into this conversation that it would end with at least a fifty percent chance he’d say yes, but when he asked about shaving, it struck her suddenly and completely that she really was about to see him naked.

“Nothing you wouldn’t normally do,” she squeaked.

Nico felt himself smile. If she was going to be this flustered the whole time, maybe this wouldn’t be half bad.

It Doesn't Matter:

Part I | Part II | Part III | Playlist

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