#like i don't think everything i write is super heavy or whatever

[beauzos]

3, 17, and 20 for the ao3 wrapped prompts ^_^!!!!

AO3 Wrapped Questions

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

I definitely never measure my success by popularity, considering my environmental niche on AO3 is posting the most hyper-specific shit about side characters most people ain't interested in to begin with lol. Ain't no good to play a numbers game.

Anyhow, by and large, my favorite (and, ergo, the one I am most proud of) has to be The Endless Ocean (Or; Leder's Private Treatise on Grief). I really like this one. Leder is one of my favorite Mother series characters hands down. He is so ripe for the picking when it comes to fleshing out the world and his character. He has a lot of depth in and of itself within Mother 3; I admire how Itoi can create the illusion of depth without having to go super in-detail about a lot of the characters. You can just sort of see it, and work your way through it.

So, writing a work that is from Leder's perspective was very fun and rewarding. It took me a while to write, but it turned out really well, and I think it's the best of the fics I wrote this year, out of the four complete fics I had. I also really love fleshing out pre-Mother 3 stuffs. I'd been wanting to do more writing centered on the White Ship and the people on it, since I imagine that there were a lot of people who, for one reason or another, did not make it to Nowhere.

Engaging with all these characters in different stages of grief, how they cope with what they have and what they expect, and how things drastically change when the White Ship survivors erase their memories is fun. And Leder being at the center, the only one who still remembers after all this time? You also get to center on/examine the way his grief manifests, knowing he doesn't get to join the others, but that he did it for the love of them. It's a nice work. I still really like it.

Oftentimes, I reread my works and think they're pretty good, but Endless Ocean is one of those ones I feel is genuinely really damn good. IDK, that's just me, though.

17. Your favorite character to write this year?

Is it cheap to say Leder? I had to avoid saying he's one of my favorite characters to write in the previous question, lol. But it's true! Leder really is my favorite of the characters I wrote for this year. He has so much potential and depth, and I love examining his thoughts and how he approaches everything from his perspective. Leder is so profoundly unique and intriguing. He's the perfect foil to so many other Mother characters.

So, yeah. He's my favorite.

20. Which work of yours have you reread the most?

If it's not The Endless Ocean, then it was probably Feet of Clay. I reread Feet of Clay quite a bit because it's a very chill, slice of life work. It's easy to approach and revisit over and over. It's just a little snapshot of life for Tazmilians during the timeskip period, and sometimes, the simplicity is delightful too, ya know? I love Paul and Abbot as a friendship dynamic, and it's all about them and how their lives intersect with the other villagers at the Clayman Mines. I don't know how many more ways I can find a way to say "it's fun" KRJKF cause that's really the only reason why I keep reading it.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

aaron hotchner x jacks nanny/babysitter

she’s got a crazy ex that stalked and threatened her so she moved far away to live a simple, under the radar life and started working for hotch. he knows her situation and does his best to look out for her, maybe she’s like a live in nanny ? neither of them is bold enough to make a move first until her ex finds her and hotch and the team race to save her. ends with love confessions and all the sappy stuff

could be a one shot or a short lil series i’m sure whatever you write will be amazing !

༉‧₊˚. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨-𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

— pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size babysitter!reader

— summary: your new life as a live-in nanny was wonderful, and with your dark past behind you, there was nothing that could ruin this. but as they say, what goes around comes around.

— warnings: heavily detailed violence BEWARE, surprisingly light angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, physical hurt/comfort, mutual pining, abusive ex's :[, guns, and a horribly written action/fight scene (forgive me).

— wc: 1965

⋆ a/n: okay this is a heavy fic so beware once more, but aside from that this takes a fully turn! i don't really have anything else to say besides enjoy!

masterlist | AO3

“Backpack? Check. Lunchbox? Check. Shoes are tied? Check.” 

You placed your hands on your hips triumphantly, a proud smile on your face as you examined the little boy. 

Being a live-in nanny came with being organizational and making sure that Jack was ready for school everyday without fail. It wasn’t like Aaron was super strict on you; he understands when you have your days where things are a bit out of place, but honestly it was a personal preference, and totally not because you have a big fat crush on the FBI agent.

You had been very skeptical about your babysitting position at first because of your ex who was absolutely bat shit crazy. It was a situation you had barely escaped from, and it had taken almost everything in you to get where you were now, so you were a little afraid of men in general. But Aaron was kind, and welcoming, and fatherly, someone that you felt safe with.

And then, you fell in love.

It had scared the shit out of you of course, but now it was a feeling that you welcomed with open arms, even if you couldn’t act on it. 

Your phone began to ring as you searched for the car keys, the contact name read ‘Aaron <3’.

“Morning!” You greeted with a smile as you picked up. “Good morning. How are you guys?” The older man asked. “We're doing just fine, as always,” You successfully found the keys. “How are things?” You knew better than to ask how he was, because if you had the kind of job that he did, there was no way you could answer positively. 

“We pretty much have everything we need, so we’ll probably be able to wrap this case up early.” 

“Oh Aaron, that's great!” You cheer happily and make your way back to where Jack was waiting for you. “You ready to go, little man?” Jack looks up at you from his toys. “Is that daddy on the phone?”

“Yeah buddy, you wanna say hi?” 

“Yes!” Jack’s answer was full of excitement, and you can’t help but smile. “As much as I enjoy talking to you, it looks like I’m handing you over.” You swear you could hear Aaron chuckle.

Yeah, this was a life that you could get used to.

Having the house to yourself was weird.

With Jack away at his aunt’s for the weekend, it was strangely quiet due to the emptiness of the child’s presence. You suppose you’re grateful for the break even though taking care of Jack really isn’t as tiring as one might think. 

Despite Aaron rarely being home, he’s managed to raise the boy well when he could, and it’s honestly very admirable. It’s one of the many things that made you fall in love with him. You gaze down into the wine glass at the thought, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Ugh, why does love make you such a loser?

Your bashful train of thought was stopped by a suspicious thump coming from the back of the house. Your smile dropped and a feeling of anxiety and worry twisted in your gut as you grabbed your phone that was lying on the kitchen counter.

You’re quick to dial Aaron’s number and your fingernail finds itself in your mouth as you chew on it anxiously. It’s an old habit, one that you had picked up back in your old relationship.

“Hello?” Rasped Aaron. 

You knew he had just recently flown in from wherever he was because you could hear the foot traffic of everyone grabbing their luggage from the plane’s storage.

“Hey,” Your greeting was nervous and it was something that Aaron easily picked up on. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?” He asks with a furrowed brow. “Yeah, just um - I’m just hearing some weird things so I just wanted to know when you think you might be getting home.” I miss you.

“Honey what type of weird things?” Before you were able to answer, there was a loud crashing sound. You instantly dropped to the floor to hide behind the counter; you cradled the phone to your ear, “Okay uh - change of claim,” You attempted to joke. “Someone is most definitely in the house.”

Aaron tries not to panic at the way his insides turn cold, “You remember what to do, right?” He asks with a hardened voice. You gulp, stretching slightly to peer over the marble. You stare out into the darkness and a frightened shiver shoots up your spine. 

“Get to your room and enter the safe.” You reiterated what he had told you almost a year ago when you had first moved in. You’ve never shot a gun before but tonight might be the night where you learn how too.

“That’s right, and do you remember the code?” 

As you went to answer him, you were snatched up by your hair and a scream rang out and into the phone. Even though you weren’t on speaker the others that were currently standing outside with Aaron could hear it.

Aaron desperately calls out your name, and with your silence he takes off without any explanation, but his team knows to follow close behind.

“So, this is what you’ve been doing since you tried to leave me?!”

You cried out as another blow was delivered to your gut but a heavy boot. Your lungs burned and there were tears streaming down your face. He had pulled you so hard over the counter that it made your scalp burn, a blistering headache beginning to form at the base of your skull.

“Fuck you!” You spat as you attempted to prop yourself up on your elbows. 

There was a fine line between anger and fear, and this was one of those moments where they blend together. If you ended up dying tonight, at least you didn’t go down in vain.

This time he punched you in the face before snatching you up by your arms. There was a metallic taste in your mouth, a bruise already developing near your eye. “Why’d you leave me, huh?! We had a good thing going and you just… you just ruined it!”

“I didn’t ruin shit asshole!” You screamed and pushed at him but it was no use. “We were gonna get married but you… but you wanted to play house with an old man, really?!”

“You’ve been watching me.” You said in disbelief. It made your stomach twist in nausea and horror at the thought of him watching Jack, what he could’ve done to him. You had actively put the man you loved kid in danger and it devastated you.

“I had no choice!”

“You’re fucking crazy!”

“Put your hands where I can see them.” Aaron’s voice rang out throughout the house.

Before you knew it you were spun around with a gun to your head, his arm locked against your neck, faintly strangling you.

“Aaron!” You called out in relief, but it turned into a grunt as you tugged further into your ex’s chest.

Aaron’s gun was raised steadily, his eyes focused on your attacker, but he doesn’t hesitate to cast you a reassuring look. When he sees your bloody and bruised face his jaw tightens, the vein in his neck popping and visible through his skin.

“Boyfriend to the rescue, huh?” Your ex sneers into your cheek. You shudder. 

“Put the gun down.” Aaron continues to coax, and out the corner of your eye you can see Morgan approaching through the darkness. 

“Why do you want to save this slut? Don’t tell me you’ve already -” A shot rings out into the fair followed by a scream of pain.

Your ex collapses to the ground, cradling the gunshot wound in his knee as blood spills through his fingers. Aaron was the one that pulled the trigger and Morgan is already in the kitchen by the time he’s tugging you away and into his arms.

“Oh God.” You finally cried. “You came, you came…” His arms are wound tightly around you, purposefully tucking your face into his chest. “I’m here, I’m here.” He shushes and rocks you side to side in order to try and lull you.

Aaron – softly – orders you to sit down while he cleans up the blood when the rest of the team has already left.

You can’t help but watch him from where you’re sitting on the couch with his sleeves of his white button up rolled up and his hands gloved. “I’m sorry.” You decide to say, because you really were. “I’m sorry for everything.” There was so much more you wanted to say, but you felt your throat tighten with unshed tears.

“No, don’t apologize.” He says softly, abandoning the rag that he was using to scrub up said blood. “No Aaron you don’t understand. I put you and Jack in danger because of my bullshit and I thought that I had put it all behind me and I don’t -” 

“Stop.” It’s a bit firmer this time. “I knew exactly what I was getting myself into when I offered you to live with me and my son. Nothing that has occurred tonight has swayed my trust or opinion about you, you know that, right?”

“Right.” His hand holds your cheek and strokes the soft skin of it. “Good.”

Your eyes flicker down to his lips before peering back into his eyes, “If I asked you to kiss me, would you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I promise this isn’t like a trauma bond thing. I’ve liked you for as long as I’ve worked for you and I didn’t want to tell you because I have nowhere else to go if you say no. Plus,” You sigh, “I just don’t want to make things difficult or uncomfortable for you.”

“You could never do that, feelings reciprocated or not.” He reassures.

“Well are they?”

He grins at your question, “I’d be an idiot not to feel the same way.” You laugh and he leans forward to join your lips together.

A warm feeling spreads in your gut and you knew that this is what love was supposed to feel like.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna @moonysreid

[rockstvrdotcom]

Hey cutie!!! Can i request a s/o who has a cold looks, she has experience vibes, a cruel mouth with sharp words. But in bedroom, she's innocent and curious about everything as shit, that makes her partner super surprised and they want that naive just do for them.

I wish it for EJ, Toby plssssssss. 🥺🥺🥺 (With NSFW kinda yummy yummy 😋)

Oh anyway, I love your writing alooooooot, it's really gooood just took my heart away at the first line!!!! Kiss kiss kiss 💋💋💋💋

I'm your 💅 lovely anon. Nice to meet you!!!

oh em gee HIII NICE TO MEET U TOO MWAH MWAH THANK U FOR THE SWEET WORDS <33

while i was writing ej i was gonna say "he rolled his eyes" but then i remembered he has no eyes..

IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE AGSJDHSJS </333 FORGIVE ME NONNIE

tw/cw: praise, oral sex, unexperienced reader, fem reader, also just regular sex, slight spanking

EYELESS JACK ☤

out of the bedroom, the words that come of your mouth are completely different from in the bedroom.

"shut up, jack" you spoke sharply, rolling your eyes. he tch'd in response. you were both watching a movie on the couch, his arm around your shoulder; and your arms crossed.

you acted like you hated the affection he gave you, but really— you adored him. that's why when a sex scene in the movie came on and you felt ej's hard on, you asked if he needed help.

"don't think of it as anything special, i'm just bored. that's all" you spoke, giving him a cold stare, your back facing him. you turned around, your cheeks flushed with a light pink color.

"yeah yeah, whatever" ej said, biting the inside of his cheek. he looked at your face, eyes admiring you. he cupped your cheek with his hand, and leaned in for a kiss. you kissed back, hands around his neck to deepen the kiss.

he then took you by the waist, sitting back down on the couch and straddling your hips onto his; the bulge in his pants rubbing against your crotch and his lips still connected with yours.

you pulled back from the kiss, looking at him with a slight hint of worry. "i.. tell me if i'm doing something wrong. i've never done anything like this before." you said, looking at him with innocent eyes. his eyebrows raised in suprise, then he gently nodded.

"you're doing great." he smiled slightly, his fangs slightly poking out. you bit your lip hard to hide your smile, trying to look grumpy at his compliment. suddenly, it was like the outbursts of rage, the scratches, and the hard glares were from a completely different person. your mean and cold facade was cracking— and ej wanted to get through to you completely.

you got on your knees on the floor, patting his legs as a signal to spread them; and he did. you hooked your fingers under the waistband of his sweats and boxers, pulling them both down just about enough so his cock could spring out.

you looked at his size, your mouth slightly agape. you contemplated if you could actually take him or not— he looked down at you with a cocky smirk on his face, causing you to scoff.

you got back to work, wrapping your hand around his dick and slowly jerking him off. you noticed his breathing became heavy, making you feel more confident as you picked up the pace of your hand.

you hand came to an abrupt stop; he looked down at you confused. "what happened?" he asked, resisting the urge to buck his hips up for more friction.

"c-.. can i lick it? like suck it i mean— you know what. nevermind." you tried to ask, but just turned your head away in embarrassment. you puffed out your cheeks in humiliation and narrowed your eyes. you were about to start jerking him off again, until he grabbed your wrist.

you turn your head to look at him. "you can do it." he said, encouraging you and twirling a piece of your hair around his finger. he grabbed you by the hair, bringing your face inches from his dick.

you cleared your throat, trying not to stare at his dick— that was literally right infront of you. you straightened your posture and placed your hands comfortably on his thighs.

you started off with little kitten licks— which jack thought was adorable by the way; then slowly progressed. and finally, your lips were wrapped around his dick, your head bobbing up and down and your fist jerking off whatever part you couldn't take into your mouth.

"mm.. fuck, you look so cute right now.." he purred, biting his lip as he smirked. you looked up and glared at him, only to have him tuck a stray hair behind your ear.

he thrusted his hips up into your mouth, making you gag as he hit the back of your throat. he did it again, and again— something about the way your throat clenched around him made his dick throb with need.

"fuck, baby— 'm cumming" he grunted, doing one last thrust into your mouth before releasing with his dick deep in your throat. you hummed around his dick, then sliding off with a 'pop' when he gave you the sign it was ok to.

"suprised you've never done this before, you're a natural." he joked, playfully punching you in the shoulder. you pushed his hand away, scoffing.

"oh shush." you said, gritting your teeth. he laughed. he pulled you up, making you stand on your feet. he swiftly turned you around then sat you down on his lap.

"so she's back to her old self huh? you remind me of the grinch." he poked at your puffed out cheeks. you slapped his hand away, cursing at him.

TICCI TOBY ✽

he watched in amusement as you curiously roamed your hands over his bare stomach. "don't look at me like that." you demanded, and he scoffed. your eyes averted back to his torso, admiring his toned abs that were literred with all different types of scars.

"you're the one who has their hands all over me." he retorted. you couldn't see his face, but you could hear the smirk in his voice.

"just shut up, toby" you said, tracing his abs with your fingers. he chuckled at your actions. after a while, he took ahold of your hands so you couldn't touch him anymore

"hey, pretty, why dont 'cha just hop on my dick and ride me already? pleasee?" he begged. he noticed the change of expression in your face, you looked more flustered and serious.

"what's wrong?" he asked, his playful tone now replaced with a more stern one. he took a piece of your hair and played with it as he awaited your answer.

you avoided eye contact. "i- uh... i'm a virgin." you spoke, barely a whisper. you scratched your head in awkwardness, awaiting his response. you were still looking away

"what'd you say? i don't think i heard you correctly." toby asked, genuinely. you silently cursed him.

"i'm a virgin.." you spoke a little louder. you finally looked up at him to see him confused. then his expression brightened up, a confused laugh escaping his throat.

"why the hell are you laughing, asshole?!" you yelled, your embarrassment obvious on your face as you bit your cheek. he held his hand up to his mouth, trying to stop himself from laughing.

"nonono- i'm not making fun of you. i just didn't expect it! that's all. you seem like somebody who's experienced. no wonder why your so curious.." he reasoned, holding your chin with his hand. you muttered a 'whatever'. secretly, the thought of him being your first time made him throb.

"don't worry, sweetheart. i'll guide you." he spoke, and you weren't able to tell if he was mocking you or if he was being genuine. you sat up straight, starting to take off your clothes, one by one. now you were left in your matching lacy red bra and panties.

"shut up. i know what i'm doing, i'll do it myself." you voiced coldly. you roughly undid his belt, then his zipper. you looked up at him, and he nodded. you pulled his pants down, eyes roaming around; coming to a halt when you saw his happy trail peeking out of the waistband of his boxers.

your eyes drifted lower down, looking at the huge bulge in his boxers. you felt your wetness pooling in your panties, your pussy clenching around nothing and wishing it was toby. your clit ached to be touched, a whine almost escaping your throat.

"what? too big?" he said, making you look up. a cocky smirk was plastered on his face. you tch'd and palmed him slowly through his boxers, watching him automatically shut up and his face turn a little red.

you hooked your fingers under the elastic waistband of toby's boxers, pulling it down. you watched in awe as his cock sprung free; now you were really questioning if it was too big.

you were already wet, so you figured it'd be fine- and he fingered you before this. you climbed ontop of him, feeling his eyes watch your every move.

your palms were sweaty as you moved your panties to the side, aligning the tip of his dick with your entrance. you winced and bit your lip before lowering yourself onto him.

"fuck.." you heard him groan as your walls enveloped his cock. you looked up at him, his eyes blown with lust and cheeks lit up with pink.

"a- am i doing this right?" you asked, your voice shaky as you slowly rode him. he nodded.

"the only thing your doing wrong is not going fast enough." he complained, tempted to grab you roughly by the hips and bounce you up and down on his cock until you can't say anything but his name. and if you didn't pick up the pace, he was sure his temptation would take control.

you nodded profusely, leaning forward. you trapped his head inbetween your two hands, praying that whatever you do next will please him and not embarass you.

your chest was now against his and your lips were interlocked as you rode his dick, sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room.

he groaned, deepening the kiss. his hands gently held your waist, not guiding you but basically telling you that you were doing all the right things.

you felt his hand move up to your breast, then taking it into his hand and rolling your nipple inbetween his fingers. you moaned, but not once removing yourself from his lips. you clenched around him and felt him throb inside of you, making you whimper. he leaned back, breaking the kiss.

"you're doing so good— fuck you're so hot." he panted, leaning into the crook of your neck then leaving soft kisses along your jaw.

the room began to feel hotter than before— if even possible. short breaths escaped your mouth, your orgasm getting nearer and nearer.

you watched his jaw tighten, his groans coming to a stop; now only silent pants. his brows furrowed, seemingly frustrated.

before you could even say anything, his hands gripped your hips— hard enough that you knew it would leave a bruise.

next thing you were sliding up and down on his dick roughly, toby leaving no time for you to even catch a break as he knew he was close and so were you.

silent moans escaped your lips; sounds of your pleasure caught in your throat. he thrusted up deeper into you, his thrusts erratic and desperate.

he grabbed you by the back of your neck and made you lean down close enough to him that you could feel him breathing on your neck. he bit down hard as he let out a loud groan.

you cried out in pain and pleasure as you felt him release inside of you a few seconds after he bit you. your orgasm washed over you, tears blurring your vision as you moaned out his name in a whisper.

he thrusted up into you, the both of your riding out your orgasms. once you two became tired, you collapsed on him, your legs sore.

you felt a hand on your thigh, but your eyes were struggling to open. you felt soft kisses litter your temple and forehead, and toby's fingers pushing any cum that leaked out back into your aching cunt.

"goodnight, pretty."

[dykeomania]

lovergirl!hazel headcanons

｡.｡ just some evidence of a love that transcends hunger, tbh.

a/n: i needed a break from writing a fic and wanted to write something sappy. this is the something sappy in question. wanted it to give how-you-become-hazel's-lover -> what she does when you're actually her lover vibe but it just got real mushy. i like it. i hope you like it, too. proofread, but i'm blind as fuck + i'm rusty, so.

tags: gender neutral (i think. i may have fucked up once or twice. please correct me if i did, i proofread fr fr over time. not intended for cis men), body neutral, and poc friendly. some niche reader things (tarot mention, reader wears makeup). mild nsfw -- kissing, making out, heavy petting. almost third base. starts in high school, ends in college.

practice fanfic etiquette. please don't plagiarize or repost my stuff.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who sits up straight on the edge of your bathtub and looks up at you in complete awe when you're getting ready. she's got the dumbest, most lovesick puppy look in her eyes as she watches her lover line her lips, and apply a sheer coat of gloss on top. when they turn around to ask if it's even, hazel smiles so wide that it makes the apples of her cheeks sore.

she doesn't really know if it looks okay, she just knows that she wants to kiss you.

she only manages an mhm because it's what you want from her and, well.. at this point, hazel's convinced that she'd drop just about everything to give whatever you want.

you snicker, closing the space between you in slow and steady strides. "what are you looking at, huh?" you teases, grin stretched across lips lined nude, gleaming pink.

"mmm..." hazel can't help but like, drunklenly (she's dead sober).. haphazardly loop you in by the belt loop, head tilting easily to the right. "yyyyyou."

her eyes droop as she falls victim to the familiar spell that you cast over her. one that starts with you taking her face in her hands, and bringing yourself close enough for to take in all at once. she's made dizzy by the smell of your conditioner, made defenseless by the familiar trace of your body wash radiating off of your skin.

"what're you looking at me for?" you grin, your hands hot on her cheeks as you stand between her legs.

"why wouldn't i wanna look at you?" hazel gently manages, hand finding comfortable purchase on your hips. she grips gently with admiration, fingertips pressing into sacred flesh of something, someone, who she couldn't believe is hers. "you're just so pretty."

but let's take a few steps back first,

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who meets you purely by coincidence. you don't go to fight club, and you don't do cheer. you don't have any classes together, you hardly even know of each other. you do, however, have to work concessions for football together one night.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who doesn't talk much, and honestly standing next to you feels kinda stupid with the bruise that she has on her cheek. she usually never really cares and she's usually super talkative -- she doesn't talk much because well.. she doesn't really know.. how to. how to talk to pretty people -- well, it's not like she finds you pretty, it's just.. anyways,

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who makes some dumb joke about athletes and you kind of snort.. and she's immediately charmed. hazel callahan who has a desire to keep you entertained, and continues to do so throughout the remainder of the game.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who actually is in your class, but, neither of you just really noticed. hazel callahan who sits next to you in the weeks following. who spends her free periods with you. who eats lunch with you. who eventually gets around to telling you about fight club, over turkey and rye sandwiches.

"so you just, like..." you take a break from chewing, tonguing some bread out of your back molar. "punch the shit out of each other, and it's school-sponsored?"

"...well, yeah. but in like a self-defense, queer way. bring people together, create some solidarity. a safe-space on campus for queer community, kind of thing."

"oh okay, so like, in a slay way," you revise.

hazel stares. scoffing out a gentle laugh. "uh... yeah.." hazel furrows her brows, shaking her head. "um.. what does that.. what does that, like, mean?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who becomes your best friend.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who really likes you. like, as a person.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who likes you maybe a little bit too much.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who doesn't know how to embroider, so when you embroidered her converse -- creating a wreath of vines, speckled with bright little flowers around the all star symbol -- she was so happy. but she felt so bad because she didn't know how to repay you.

"let me make it up to you?" she insists, fingers playing with your own, but not creating enough distraction to prevent you from protesting.

"what?" you scoff, subconsciously locking her hands with yours, as though you're about to declare a thumb war. "no, how?"

"i don't know! this is so nice, let me like..." hazel shrugs voice dropping timidly, "..take you out or something."

a beat passes, one that feels like forever. a large enough one to create space for all the butterflies to rumble around both of your stomachs, and for the elephant to pass through the room. hazel can't tell if it's your hand that's begun to sweat in your grasp, or if it's hers.

your eyes narrow at her, grin stretched into something cheshire as you shake your hand, and hers. "i think you just wanna take me out on a date."

hazel smiles sheepishly, cheeks flushing a bright flamingo. she shrugs, next words quiet and intentional,

"so what if i do?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan doesn't know how to embroider but she does have an eye for wildflowers. when the girl who shows up at your doorstep, it's with a dorky smile, a batch of spring, and a bandaid wrapped around her index finger and her thumb. the flowers that she biked about an hour north to pluck -- from a field she discovered after having simply gone too far -- are bunched together and wrapped in a trader joe's paper bag, the kind that her mom always leaves in the kitchen under the sink. she put the boquet together herself. spent too much time thinking about whether or not you would like the arrangement or the colors, probably went to the store to grab a few of your favorite flowers that she couldn't find.

"oh, these are for you. see, i tried to make this whole thing, like.. semi.. transactional. again, like, i don't really know how to embroider flowers, or like anything really, so... these were next best thing, i guess." she offers, as though it's nothing.

"you look.. really nice." hazel's eyes linger, stricken and dumb. she fills her lungs with air, huffing out her next sentence. "are yoooouuu.. ready to go?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who thinks that star signs mean nothing, and doesn't know jackshit about crystals or anything of the like. but hazel callahan who is all eyes and ears, criss-cross-apple-sauce with you on her floor, as she watches you knock your knuckles on a deck of tarot cards and shuffle through them for what you called a "semi unreliable, two-card reading."

hazel callahan who jumps a little when two cards fly out from the deck. who furrows her eyebrows when you turn the over. an the lovers and two of cups, both upright.

"what..." she snorts. "what does that mean?"

"um.." she watches you blush. "it means.." and she blushes when your eyes linger on hers, and then look up. feels her stomach flutter when she watches you take a deep breath in through your nose, like you're shuffling through all of the words in your head.

"...let's just saaaaayyyy... nnnew connections might be coming your way, soon."

hazel has no fucking idea what that means, looking at you, she surely could hope that that's true.

...

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who is shocked that you want to like.. have a sleepover with her. this doesn't really happen to her. like at all. but it's happening with you, so she's down.. but it has to be planned. hazel callahan pulls out all the stops to try to make sure that it's.. well, perfect, she guesses? she makes sure that it's on a weekend where her mom is out of town (not even because she wants to do anything but you know how her mom is). she asks you what all of your favorite snacks are beforehand, and offers to go get more if you run out. she makes sure that you have satin pillowcases if you have textured hair, just in case you forget a bonnet, or anything. probably does that regardless of whether or not that's applicable to you, because she hears it's better for your skin and what not. she gets a weighted blanket for you and some extra pillows + takes out an extra throw if she knows that you get cold easily, or damn near strips her bed down to just one comforter and gets a desk fan to face her bed if she knows that you get too hot.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who you create a shared movie list with, and who will sit with you and watch all of your favorite movies. all of your least favorite movies. will watch movies that you insist that she must see and will do so with very little fight because it's whatever you want, really. hazel callahan who is very quickly realizing that she would do whatever you wanted, as long as it meant that it got you to smile.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ (hazel callahan who, granted, talks through a lot of those fucking movies. like. hazel callahan who has a really fucking hard time paying attention to movies.)

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who clearly has overthought everything. who laughs at and understands all of your dumb jokes and is always a little shocked when you laugh at hers. who lets you rest your head on her shoulder when you watch movies in her home-theater. who lays with you in her bed and compares your tiktok for you page with hers and finds it a little too easy to poke fun of you. finds it not as easy to remain calm when your head rests comfortably on her chest, and thus hopes to god that all of the cringy tiktok audios are masking the sound of her heart beating out of her chest.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who looks at you when you mention that it's getting late, and insists that there's a guest room if you wanna sleep in there, or an air mattress that she was supposed to blow up.

"it's too late for that, though." you frown.

"no," hazel, being hazel, is quick to reassure, shaking her head. "no, no, i could totally blow it up. we have an automated pump, it'll take like 20 minutes."

"mm, i don't know, it's still kinda late for all of that..."

hazel blinks at you. her eyebrows raise, corners of her lips gently upturning. "okay. i mean, do you wanna take the guest room?"

you look up at her, eyes big on purpose. "that guest room's kinda scary." you lift a brow. "it's dark. and cold."

hazel thinks she might.. be tripping. she has to be. her blink is slow, and her face knots together, and releases -- the way it does when she gets all timid and indecisive. "o..kay..." she grins nonetheless, furrowing her eyebrows. "so then .. where are you gonna sleep?"

"..i mean.." you burn, and so does she. "...i could just sleep here with you?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who can't help but feel girlish and vulnerable laying in her bed with you, her stomach tied in knots over how there is nothing usual about this situation. fully seeing you in your pajamas. feeling the gentle flesh of your bare calves rub against hers. being within such close proximity of you that she can still smell the lingering remnants of soap on your skin from your shower.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who dares to let her finger dance on your upper bicep, but that's just about it, really.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who only nudges closer only when you nudge closer. who only lowers her voice, when you lower your voice. who only holds eye contact when you start it, but is always the first to look away.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who falls into a trap: eye contact held after some conversation that did not, and does not matter. she follows your eyes down, chocolate eyes focusing on the arch of your cupids bow. she does tilt her head up to find her nose nudging softly against the underside of yours. she doesn't know how you two got this close. hazel callahan who feels her hands grow sweaty, feeling your breath linger over her the chap of her lips. who nearly stiffens when she feels your hand press into her back, but instead arches into the crevice your body makes and presses her palm against your hip.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who does what she thinks she's supposed to do, and kisses you -- soft and gentle, like the whispers that fluttered over both of your lips earlier. brief, and endearing.

her lips stick to yours, and then her lips press into yours. and then her lips open when yours do, and her hand tightens on you when yours does.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who has no fucking idea what she's doing. like, seriously. she kind of knows -- i mean, okay, yeah, she knows how to kiss, but this is, like.. not just a kiss. hazel's kisses are brief. gentle, maybe a little slow. never this deep. hazel callahan who forgets herself when her fingers weave through your hair. hazel callahan who doesn't recognize the way her breath shakes in your throat when your fingers ambitiously sift through her thick, black locks and pull.

hazel callahan whose lips slot over yours, and unlock. who leans forward when you lean back, and is almost nearly on top of you.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who doesn't know what to do with her hand, so she puts it everywhere. glides it over your side, presses it over the expanse of your lower back. who smooths her hand under your shirt and marvels in the way your skin burns against her palm. who itches to explore, traversing over your stomach, venturing up, up, and up--

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who stops dead in her tracks when you hum something sour in her mouth and grab her wrist. who looks at you stunned with parted lips as you softly shake your head against hers.

"not yet," you pant, opening your eyes to look at her. "not yet."

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who bats her lashes, dizzy with affection yet sobered from your action. she knows how you sound. not like you're rejecting her, but like you're admitting something, which you.. might be. something that she understands. regardless, she understands.

but she burns bright with embarrassment, stomach rattling with a guilt that crawls up her throat and wraps around it, tightening and tightening...

"yeah," she manages a whispers after a while. somehow, it's still raspy. "yeah, okay.."

"okay.."

"...m'sorry--"

"don't be," you shake your head. "keep kissing me."

you rush, and it's kind of just in time. whatever stinging was lingering in her chest subsides as you bring yourself closer, lips softly capturing her lower lip in affirmation after hazel just stares at you.

hazel callahan who blinks, oscillating between consciences, dazed and a little confused. she's cautious and readjusted, her hand only lingering over your side as she whispers a faint "are you sure..?"

the sentence dissolves when on the tip of hazel's tongue when her lips find yours again, at your action, which is her answer. hazel callahan who listens. who lets you take her hand and place it somewhere that feels more comfortable, somewhere that's right and yet still sensual.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who is wiped, but intentional with every kiss that either you or her leads, every swipe of her lips over your jaw, every tender kiss that you let her place against the stretch of your neck.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who will admire within her bounds. kissing you, and drowning in you until she is simply too sleepy to continue. until she is dizzy and feels comfortable enough to nuzzle her face somewhere into the crook of you, breathing you in until you become a part of her dreams,

and she will wake -- in the morning, and in the middle of the night -- only to have a hard time believing that she isn't still dreaming.

...

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who kind of has to get used to.. all of it. who crushes, even though she's already "achieved," so to speak. who grins at her phone when she's texted, who finds any excuse to facetime you and keep you on the line -- sometimes just so that she can look at you. who finds any excuse to be around you.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who you can't get rid of once you go both go to college. who facetimes you whenever, who visits you on weekends. who comes into your space and steals all of your sweatshirts and your pajama pants and of course, all of your spare time.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel "no, i can make that for you" callahan who can't embroider, but can crochet. she will buy you that jellycat that you really want, a hundred percent. hazel callahan will also greet you with a fucked up rendition of said stuffed animal that you wanted (giving jamdog, perhaps) and furrows her eyebrows when you have to hide your laugh with your hand.

"what?" she asks, grin dulling only for a moment. "do you not like it?"

"no it's--" you cover your mouth. "it's perfect." you cackle. when you cup her cheeks, all the worry and fear of judgement fades. sort of. at least enough. "you're perfect, babe. i love it."

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who does, in fact, keep a picture in her wallet of her lover, ready at all times. hazel callahan who weaves her lover into casual conversation.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who still doesn't really understand figure of speech all that well so when you say things like "i wish you could just come over," she literally goes "..well like, i could,"

and then proceeds to make like, a three hour drive.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who keeps the picture that you hate of yourself as her lockscreen and it's not to spite you, it's because she thinks you're beautiful, and she has no idea what you're talking about.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who figures out what names you like to be called by throwing everything at a wall and seeing that sticks. pretty. handsome. lover. angel. baby. and when she does find one, one that makes you blush just about as hard as she does every time you even look in her direction, she holds it over your head to high heavens. makes it your contact name. uses it to punctuate reassuring sentences, when she greets you, when she tells you goodnight.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who gets to take you on real dates, and gets excited to. who gets giddy when you get ready. who gets to fix your hair and come up behind you when you take mirror selfies once you're finished. who now feels comfortable enough to place her hands at the mid-point of your waist and let them venture toward your frontside while she rests her chin on your shoulder, and leans in to kiss your cheek. who tells you you smell nice, and makes you smile when she buries her face into some part of you and literally just goes rahhhh!!!!

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who is also stuck sometimes, in moment such as these, watching the wonder who she has had a crush on since high school -- jesus, has it really been that long? -- with gentle eyes and a completely disarmed disposition.

hazel callahan who is honestly such a fucking loser -- like, literally, loser-since-birth, no-hope-since-middle-school, gay-haircut-and-new-repotoire-can't-save-you, loser, and can't help but ponder and marvel over how someone like you is in her hands. in her face. in her life.

"m'not that pretty," you insist, fingers weaving through her hair, nails etching at hazel's scalp in a way that hazel has grown to like. love, even.

her eyes flicker over your face, smile lopsided and eyes heavy like despite everything, you don't even know the half of it. she scoffs, voice hardly above a whisper,

"yeah no, you are so much more than pretty."

[cerise-on-top]

Hii and could you do könig and nikto with a plus sized reader ? :)

Hey there! Sorry, but I don't write for Nikto! However, I made König's extra long to make up for it :>

König with a Plus Sized!Reader

I feel as though König would actually prefer someone on the bigger side. Not even in a weird fetishy way, he just likes tummies a lot. You could probably easily get him to lie on top of your tummy, holding onto you as though his life depended on it all the while nuzzling into it. You could beg him to let go of you, he likely won’t unless it’s an emergency. If you ever feel down about yourself then you can count on him to try and cheer you up. Not that he’s that good with people, always scared of saying something that could make the matter even worse, but by the Gods, if he won’t treat you like the deity you are. He doesn’t mean to be rude, but sometimes he can be caught staring at your tummy because he’s just that entranced by it. Yes, he’ll look away if you catch him staring, but can you blame him? With a tummy as cute as yours?

If anyone ever makes a mean comment about you being fat or ugly or anything, then König will actually just kill that person. He’s in the military, he knows all about being aggressive and relentless at the right time. You being harassed? That’s about the best time to intimidate, maim and kill someone. Yes, he doesn’t like confrontation outside of his job all that much, but what kind of partner would he be if he didn’t defend your honor? Come on now, have some faith in him, will you? He’s not afraid to get physical either. König probably knows more languages than English and German too since he’s rather high ranking, and he will most definitely cuss that asshole out in any one he knows. And if that doesn’t make the fucker feel bad? Yeah, he can talk with his fists as well. He makes it up to you by making you some delicious food. You want some Schweinsbratn? Some Käsespätzle? Just some good old Palatschinken mit Marillenmarmelade?? Yeah, he’s got you covered. Food always cheers him up, he hopes it does the same for you. He reveres you and will tell you that everything that clown said was absolute nonsense and they should by no means be listened to. If he has to, he will kiss your tummy all night just to make you feel better. Not that he wouldn’t do it anyway, but he has a reason to now.

You can say whatever you want about König, mans loves to eat himself, which means he probably has some chub too. I don’t think he’d be self conscious about it per se, but if you ever feel down about your size then he’ll remind you that he’s not super thin either. Sure, he’s muscular, but he’s got some tummy too. Besides, I also think that he would actively work out to be able to pick you up whenever he can. Yes, you might be a little heavy, but he’s a military man, he can handle that. Will pick you up and spin you around since there’s probably no way anyone will ever do that for him again. He’ll also kiss your face as he picks you up. Depending on how he’s able to hold you, he might also rock you back and forth a little bit, just to tease you. Yes, he’s the big and scary colonel, but that doesn’t mean he’s not completely and absolutely enamored by you.

I think when you’re doing something mundane, such as cooking or washing the dishes, he’d love to come up from behind you and wrap his arms around you, resting his hands on your tummy. Yes, he will grope and squeeze it as well. Unless you absolutely hate him doing that, in which case he’ll stop. But you could never have him not have his hands on your tummy. It’s just so soft, you know? You’re so soft and he loves you so much, it’s unreal. The first thing he always does after coming home from deployment is wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you close, and feeling how soft and warm you are. Another big plus about you being rather big is the fact that you have soft thighs. You will catch him asking you if he can put his head in your lap fairly often. Yes, he has shame and doesn’t want to bother you, but how could he not?

So, overall, König is a very supportive man. He will smother you in love and make sure you know your worth. Will kill for you, but that’s beside the point. Loves you being big and will probably be touching you and your plush body more often than he won’t. And if you tell him that you like his tummy too? He’s a goner. He might as well just marry you this instant, propose immediately and make you the happiest person alive. He loves you and it shows in everything he does.

[jermer10]

Hi!

I was wondering if you could write for the mercs (all if possible, if not it's your choice who) dating a enemy reader. Headcanons or a drabble are fine.

Love the fics!

TF2 mercs dating an enemy reader

suggestive, gn reader | thanks for the ask anon!!

drabbles under the cut :P

Scout: - the least caring about the fact that you're an enemy merc - "game is game!" you want to strangle him - would make a point out of trying to dominate you during a match, specifically seeking you out just to kill you over and over again - if you're dating scout you're likely just as competitive - and you're also likely to win these little games - "scout! come here for a sec~" he is already half way there, under the assumption that he was gonna 'get a piece' of you - you're 5 seconds into your makeout session, his hands ravaging your body, when you raise your gun and shoot him straight through the chin - he is fucking fuming, you're laughing your ass off - holding it over you if he wins a match, becoming super pissy if he doesn't - the only way to calm him down to shower him with compliments

Soldier: - the hardest to win over, he is patriotic to his heart and also incredibly stupid - would genuinely assume that your flirting is malicious, trying to rile him up and confuse him into surrendering - it's not until you have him cornered, he's ready to fight with his fists or go out trying, when you ask him out instead - he will decline, and you shoot him cleanly in the head before skipping away - but it sits with him - and he starts to notice every little thing you do, internally praising your usage of weapons, your pure bloodlust - he corners you and....proposes? - "oooone step at a time bud" - will still kill you during battle, but does so in a loving way instead - whatever that even means

Pyro: - it's not hard to befriend pyro - they treat their friends and enemies quite similar, hell, they even attack their own teammates sometimes - so when you approach them outside of a battle, how could they say no to a new friend? - the enemy team hates this, believing the only reason for your presence to be malign - eventually everyone grows used to you, you even begun repping their colour when you were there as not to stand out too much - on the battlefield you two often sneak off together to light shit on fire or prank other mercs - they find hurting you......undesirable? so it seems? - they tend to focus on everyone else around you rather than harming you in any way - really a sweetheart under all of that...fireproof asbestos lined suit?

Demoman: - finds the idea of dating someone who's supposed to be his enemy very hot - he meets you on the battlefield, drunkenly flinging everything he has at you, and somehow you're avoiding all of his attacks - explosions erupting from behind you, it's something like a scene from a movie - he is obsessed with you - you don't officially declare your relationship at first, sneaking off to screw and make out instead of doing typical couple things - eventually, he has to ask, "what are we?" you just laugh and lean in for an uncharacteristically passionate kiss - that's all he needed - you're attached to the hip, but you're not against murdering him either - your team hates him. just straight up.

Heavy: - absolutely refuses to engage with your flirtatious behaviour - you're immature and desperate, he tells himself - so why does he lay there late at night thinking about you? - it becomes harder to hide his apparent feelings for you, leading to some heated sexual tension - he wants you, bad, and here you were defenseless, cowering with a nervous grin and spewing your usual sickening ramblings - he can't help but kiss you in the moment rather than what he should be doing which is shooting you - he doesn't even care, he just needs this more than anything - and this becomes a regular thing until you ask him out - "are we not already in relationship?" - your team is too scared of him to say something about his involvement with you, and his team....is also too scared of him to say anything about you

Engineer: - he can't keep his eyes off you, he can't even bring himself to attack you, and worst of all he actively disables the rest of his team trying to protect you - you cared so deeply for your teammates, even a blind man could see that in the way you fought so fiercely for them - engie is absolutely smitten - they push him into telling you, lamenting about needing their engie to focus in battle and that maybe confessing would itch the scratch - it does not, in fact, itch the scratch - he told you, the dynamic between both teams shift - you become the parents of both teams, having large group hangouts and dinners together - no one really wants to...kill eachother anymore..? - of course it's still your job to kill one another, but now it feels more like a game between buddies than a real fight

Medic: - he becomes completely obsessive over you, becoming enraged at the idea of his teammates killing you - he is the only one who should be able to kill you, and he wants it to hurt, he hates you, and he hates the way you make him feel - his teammates catch on rather quickly and decide to put it into perspective for him, making him realize that he really just has a crush on you - he will only slightly change his behavior after this, now he flirts with you right before he kills you (awwww!) - when you ask him out, he's shocked! - obviously he says yes, he wants you more than he's wanted anyone - there's a passion there that both of your teams are incredibly disturbed by, so they try to ignore it the best they can, which is not very well - at least this brings them closer? i guess??

Sniper: - he would have been stalking you through the scope of his rifle long before you asked him out - and you knew this, testing him by walking through his line of sight, taking an excruciatingly long time to kill one of his teammates, bending over a lot more than usual - you reveled in the way he would intentionally miss his shots, his way of flirting with you, beckoning you to come say hello - and when you finally do it's the kickstart of a relationship that no one sees coming and that you don't keep as secret as you think - you often sneak off to rest up in his sniper nests, sharing some kisses before returning to the fight - you practically live in his van outside of work, some of your teammates just assume you're off training or running errands, the more observant ones having sneaking suspicions that you're skipping off to see your star-crossed lover

Spy: - he actually does hate you at first - spy is very competitive, in ways that aren't always obvious to others - you're racking up kills, he's been dominated by you at least 20 times, and he's growing increasingly aggressive - eventually he lands a hit on you, slashing your arm pretty bad, your gun skidding across the cement, too far out of reach - and instead of killing you, he kicks your gun back over to you with a heavy sigh, you're at a loss for words - "fuck you for making me feel zhis way" he pulls you up by the collar and next thing you know you're both sneaking off to screw - he tells you this was a one time thing, but it's evident that he doesn't really feel that way - not with the way he looks at you, the genuine love he has for you is so foreign to him that he often mistakes it for lust - you take it slow, and you do it quietly, it's your own little thing

[i-cant-sing]

Whispers in your ear like a devil on your shoulder: you should make the Miguel O'Hara scenarios. Think of the hot dad energy he would emanate :))))))

Jokes aside, it is truly up to you what to write and I would always read it, but I am begging on my hands and knees for you to tell us the platonic yandere Miguel O'Hara scenarios you have thought of.

Nooo stooopppp girll- *puts on Miguel's theme music in the background* ahh shit here we go.

Platonic Yandere Miguel O'Hara as a dad:

Okay, so im just gonna word vomit here and yall make sense of it, but like the first thing that comes to mind when I think about yandere dad Miguel is that him kidnapping daughter reader from a universe where he doesn't exist, so he's technically not breaking canon or whatever and really, it doesnt even matter if you're his bio kid or not, like u could be a literal random civilian but if he is drawn to u, then he is. And while some of yall say "oh come on, Miguel cant be like that. He doesn't make careless/thoughtless decisions like that" I'm sorry, but is this not the same person who had the nerve to step in as his dead self from an AU and sleep with his parallel universe's wife and father someone else's kid??? Granted, they did end up dying but really, the only difference between that decision and this decision to kidnap u is to make sure that u don't end up dyingggg.

Moving on, he kidnaps u, makes up some bs about your life being in danger and blah blah blah, you HAVE to stay by his side, okay??? And at first, reader is like "umm okay?" because who tf wouldnt agree with SPIDERMAN??? (especially one who looks like Miguel? he is already giving dad vibes)

And the thing with Miguel is that he super protective (because PTSD) and he's possessive too, so the only person you're allowed to hang out with is Mayday (she is the cutest, i would die to have a kid like her ngl) because he doesnt see her as a threat (someone who could take u away from him). ABSOLUTELY NO CONTACT with Miles (because he hates that kid, pain in his ass/bane of his existence) and pretty much all other spiderpersons as well because all of them are sarcastic and he does not need them rubbing off on u. The only other person he would trust u with is Peter B, probably when Miguel needs a babysitter (because u learned to mess with his tech-typy-locks and traps, so u need an actual person to keep eyes on u. curse the universe for u being smart like ur papa), and the biggest reason he does trust peter with u is because since peter is a father himself, he would definitely know that while miguel's methods are wrong, in his own way, he is protecting u, and peter b knows that he would do absolutely anything to keep his daughter safe too. Also- since peter has mayday, if he were to actually take u away from Miguel, then Miguel would 10000% kidnap mayday and use her against peter too until he inevitably has to return u to him.

Now Miguel is emotionally crippled due to his trauma, so he's not great at expressing his feelings, at least not when you're awake. When you're asleep, maybe his eyes turn a little softer, maybe he cups your cheek, some guilt and sadness swirling in his eyes when he sees your tear stained cheek (because u missed ur family. or maybe u got told off by Miguel in front of everyone), presses a soft kiss to your forehead and mumbles something in spanish ("you will understand in due time, mi hija.") Definitely has cameras in your room, so he looks at you through the screen and sighs when u flop on the bed and stuff your head in the pillow and start crying, heart slightly heavy with guilt.

Except from interacting with others and leaving the spider society/his apartment (idk where he lives), every need of yours is pretty much taken care of IF you follow his rules. If you behave, u get everything. If u yell at him, try to break out of his place etc, privileges are revoked and BAM, you are now confined to your room with no access to entertainment or any of your hobbies he allowed u to have. Those novels u liked to read? Too bad, they get thrown in the fireplace. Gaming console? Broken in his hands. Liked to cook/bake? No access to kitchen because u are now locked in your room.

Miguel has one important rule- you MUST obey him, under all circumstances, no questions asked. If he tells you to go to your room, honey go before his eyes turn sharp and he has to manhandle you. If he tells you to eat dinner with him, you need to eat food even if you are full. And if he's forbidden you from going to the locked room in his place that's full of info on you and your old fam, then its best for everyone for u to obey.

Now, while Miguel does have trouble expressing emotions (i mean, the most affection he's shown is head pats and if u are really really sad, then yes, smooches on the forehead.) but he has no trouble expressing anger and rage. If u mess up real bad, in the sense where u disobey him and end up hurting yourself (no matter to what degree), GIRL HE IS SCREAMING HIS HEAD OFF AT YOU (like the scene from the movie where he's yelling at miles). I mean, he's so mad, he legit picks you up and hauls you to your room, where he's yelling at u even more, using the terms "child" "kid" and patronising tone because you may think you're a grown up (u might even be) but he will ALWAYS view u as a kid- THE KID he lost, the child he promised to protect and somehow get redemption, or at the very least, fill the empty hole in his heart.

And since nobody thought to inform me that my man Miguel is a literal VAMPIRE and that his fangs are not just for show to attract all kinds of viewrs, we gonna talk about that as well. Does he use them on reader when she finds out that Miguel actually fucking murdered her real fam (maybe not directly kill them, because he is a hero after all. Maybe in the sense that he knew they were gonna die, you would too unless he took u away, he just didnt bother calculating the repercussions if he did indeed save your family.) and reader is now hyperventilating and trying to claw her way out of his arms but muscled arms only pull u tighter against his chest and he just bites ur neck to let the venom paralyse you long enough for him to not only offer an explanation for his actions, but also put a tracker in you and chain u to your bed.

Does Miguel's heart absolutely shatter at your body wracking sobs and distressed state as you realise you have lost your family? Yes. Does he apologise? Never. Does he like seeing you in pain? NO. Will he cause you even more pain? ...yes, if circumstances change.

Hurting you is the last the thing he's do, but its still something he would do. He wont enjoy it, but if u messed up real bad (escaped and endangered yourself) then Miguel, with a very heavy heart will snap your ankles and limit your ability to walk for months (if not for life). This is one of his harshest punishments, and punishments are immeadiately followed with comfort, so Miguel does put your fractured bones in a cast and wipes the tears from his eyes, shushing you gently as he softly explains why he did what he did, how you dont need to worry about anything because since you took your punishment so well, Miguel will help you (he will carry you around everywhere), and maybe if you're in too much pain, he may give you some drugs(or even his venom) to put you to sleep right away.

He has lost too much, too many times. His wounds are deep and still fresh, he is not taking any chances... especially not with you.

okay thats all i have for now(its a lie, i just need to pee) but feel free to send in ur asks/thoughts/scenarios.

[bratbarzal]

On Your Side (NH13) / Chapter Three

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen*

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

WC: 13k

Chapter Warnings: angst obviously what would this story be without it, poppy and nico having an overdue conversation, nico moping again with his big sad brown eyes, nico being jealous again, drinking, cursing, meddling friends, being stood up, mentions of controlling parents as always, a little touching maybe a little more kissing too and even more meddling friends

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

Series Masterlist

Previous Part (Chapter Two)

A/N: I have nothing to say honestly just hope you enjoy I really don't know why I struggled writing most of this despite knowing what I wanted to do with it I think just figuring out how I want certain conversations to go and how to get from a to b is pure stresssss I'm not entirely in love with it but what can you do also proofread her? I hardly know her

but if you have anything to say pls send it my way lmao I'd really like to hear any thoughts or opinions 💓

Poppy

Poppy was once told by her good friend, Kelsey, that she would be able to tell everything she needed to know about a guy by the way they answered one very simple question. 

If you could have any superpower, what would it be?

She thinks about it more often than she really should, if she’s honest with herself, but Kelsey’s rationale behind each potential answer is actually a stroke of rare genius - and Poppy often finds herself applying the logic to most people that she encounters.

Guys who say super speed are the ultimate red flag. No one wants a quick finisher, no matter how fast they may be in any other aspect of life. Some things specifically require time and patience. Sacrificing your partner’s satisfaction all to say you can run the world record fastest 5k is the ultimate ick.

There’s an argument to be made for the endurance choosers, it sure has its perks, but Poppy thinks it’s a boring pick. To be given the option of any superpower, and to choose perseverance, of all things? Get a life. 

Anyone who chooses x-ray vision is a certified pervert, obviously. The same could be said for those wanting to read minds, although most of the guys Poppy has seen in her life struggle to comprehend the things she says in plain words, never mind whatever nonsense is circling through her inner thoughts. 

Those who choose flying are one dimensional, rarely able to see beyond what’s right in front of them, because, if they could, they’d choose the much better option of teleportation.

Who chooses flying when you could just think about somewhere and instantaneously arrive? With your hair in tact and no risk of bumping into any territorial birds.

Teleportation is what Poppy would have picked if anyone would have asked her a week ago, for the mere fact that commuting anywhere is the bane of her entire existence, and if she thinks too hard about it or looks to much into it, it always has been. 

She associates it with sitting in the back of her dad’s Bentley as a child, a tangible, frosty silence lingering in the air between her parents after one of their many even-toned arguments disguised as discussions, the fresh pine scent making her car sick and the leather seats making the back of her thighs sticky. 

Or the fragile bones of her hand being crushed by her mother’s tight grip as they rode the Amtrak over to Manhattan, Priscilla sneering at anyone who dared step too close on the crowded carriage, Poppy being dragged throughout department stores in the name of mother-daughter bonding time, and clutching to a tiny consolation Macy’s bag housing a sparkly lip gloss like her life depended on it the whole way home. 

She thinks of all the hours of her life she’s wasted on the Palisades Parkway, no longer able to enjoy the scenic route whenever she has to drive back to her parent’s house in Alpine after having watched one too many crime shows where a broken down car leads to a girl’s face plastered all over the news.

Even driving to work can feel like hell when the traffic is bad, what should be a 30 minute drive sometimes turning into an hour, Poppy’s fingers cramping around the wheel and her feet itching to touch solid ground after too long.

Teleportation sounds perfect.

And, there’s even a romance element to it. Being whisked away to Paris in the blink of an eye, suddenly sitting outside a boulangerie, decadent, rich hot chocolate on a table in front of her and a plate full of pastries, all because she mentioned a slight craving for a pain au chocolat. 

Teleportation has always been the only correct, green-flag answer to the question. 

Until Poppy properly considered time travel, that is.

The concept of it has always been a little too much or her to handle - too many strange loopholes, too many bad examples from the sci-fi movies her brother had loved as a kid. Travelling back in time to when her parents were her age and accidentally capturing her adolescent father’s attention à la Marty McFly? Sounds like hell and horror to Poppy. 

But that was before she screwed everything up.

If she could have any superpower right now, currently weighed down with the burden of hindsight - which people have always told her is a funny thing, but she thinks is actually somewhat diabolical - she would pick time travel a thousand times over.

Because if human beings have a specific part of their brain that is dedicated to forcing them to sit and stew on their every poor decision for days on end - lets them rethink and regret everything until they’re blue in the face, and can’t think of anything other than how idiotic they have been - it should also offer the kindness of being able to go back and change what they so royally fucked up.

That’s what Poppy thinks, at least, as she throws herself down onto her bed, her back hitting the duvet in a whoosh and all she can do is stare at the ceiling and wonder how and when she became such a certified moron.

There’s a part of her that suspects it’s in her genes. Inevitable. Unavoidable. Nature and nurture, she was born and raised to be a full blown fool.

Poppy comes from a long line of privilege, and while it does take a certain element of intelligence to amass the wealth her family has, it also tends to go hand in hand with ignorance in its many forms.

Behind every fortuitous business move her father makes are a million other mistakes - failed ventures, bad investments, shoddy pieces of advice accepted from the untrustworthy snakes he surrounds himself with. Hidden beneath every rung of the social ladders her mother has managed to climb, there are the ugly faux-pas’ slipping through the cracks of a former, more unsavoury life she can never run too far from. And her brother - well, she suspects he’s just an idiot, there are no two ways about it.

She knows that she needs to stop blaming her family, though. This time, it’s all her.

She can’t blame her father for the way she overthinks, the man who makes every decision in life with the littlest regard for how anyone else feels about it. She can’t blame her mother for the way she places such little value on herself, the woman who walks into every room like she owns it and refuses to let anyone make her think otherwise.

Except maybe she can.

If she had the nerve to talk to a therapist, they might disagree - might say her overthinking comes from her dad’s lack of communication skills, a part of her brain always filling in the gaps of a half-assed, other side of any conversation with him. Or they might say her insecurities come from her mom constantly putting Poppy down while telling her to be more sure of herself - stop slouching, Poppy, no one will take you seriously with the posture of a candy cane.

She’d love to know where her need to repress her feelings so deep that she becomes an impenetrable, cold, dark fortress comes from. The need to push and shove when someone tries to get too close, because God forbid anything is ever easy when it comes to her affections.

It would have made the past 4 days since Nico had walked into her apartment and kissed the life out of her a whole lot easier. 

4 days spent reminiscing, rethinking and regretting every single thing she had said and done since their lips parted, since he had put his heart on the line and she’d whacked it away, full swing, as if too desperate for the victory of a last-bat home run.

If she could time travel, she’d do the whole thing over.

-

“Don’t go on that date, Mohn.”

She had read the words on his lips before they registered through her ears, the sound of her blood rushing throughout her body occupying every sense for a brief moment.

What the hell is going on?

Nico had kissed her. He’d grabbed her, pulled her into him, and she’s pretty sure he had made her heart stop for a good second - there’s no other justifiable reason for the way it had been reverberating against her ribcage ever since. 

And then he stood before her, a desperate, pleading projection playing in his dark irises, lips still slick from where her own had just been, cheeks flushed, shoulders rising with subtle panting breaths, waiting for a response to a question she couldn’t even remember hearing.

“W-what?” She’d stuttered, blinking hard and shaking her head as if to rattle her brain into whatever semblance of cognisance she could muster.

Nico had kissed her, and then wanted to talk? As if she had the brain power left for any kind of discussion after that?

He seemed proud of the mess he had made of her, lips lifting at one side, drawing her gaze immediately to every movement they made, so focused on the memory of how pillowy-soft they had felt against hers that she didn’t notice him stepping a little closer, raising a large hand to tuck her hair behind her ear until she flinched at the contact.

“Sunday, Poppy,” he had uttered, unfazed by her skittishness, “Your date, don’t go.”

She had blinked again, completely overwhelmed on every front. She could still taste him on her tongue, he was so close she could smell his cologne, tunnel vision only seeing him in front of her and the hand that cupped the side of her face in her peripheral, her heartbeat echoing through her skull and every nerve, every slight hair on her body, standing as if trying to close the distance between his body and hers.

It was the sensory overload that made her go against all other instincts.

“I can’t.” Her voice had sounded like it hadn’t been used in weeks, croaky and unsure, her next words stammered, “I can’t not go, I mean. I have to go.”

“You don’t have to go, Poppy,”

“No, I do.” That had sounded a little surer, the fog in her brain slowly clearing only for something more tumultuous to pass through in it’s place. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”

Nico blinked once, then again, frustration clear in the furrow of his thick brows as he seemed to stew on his next words, desperate to say the right thing. There was a prolonged, tense beat, before he had asked, “Have you ever thought we could be more?”

“More?”

“More than friends.”

If her heart hadn’t stopped when he had kissed her, it must have stopped then.

His back straight, eyes looking directly into hers, a hopeful, inquisitive gleam shining from within them - he had never seemed so sure of something for as long as she had known him.

Poppy couldn’t stop the little voice in her head questioning, where the hell has this come from?

“Have you?” She had asked with a eyre of disbelief.

 Not once in the years she had known him had he ever made it seem like they could be more. There had always been an unspeakable, undeniable barrier between them. They were friends. They’d always been friends. Just friends.

Friends who spent most of their free, personal time together, friends who bought each other sentimental gifts they’d never get for anyone else, who shared intimate details about their lives and their pasts, and kissed each others heads like a goodbye ritual. Friends who broke each other’s hearts, seemingly beyond repair, without explanation.

“I think so.”

“You think so?”

“I mean,” He had paused, breaking eye contact for a second as if wracking his brain for the right answer, sensing a teetering tension between the two of them. “Yeah. Yes. I have.”

She had narrowed her eyes at him, weighing up the possibility in her mind that she wouldn’t have liked any response he gave to her, every prospective answer causing a flood of doubt and uncertainty to crash in rushing, destructive waves through her mind. “Since when?” She’d asked, trying to level her bite.

If he’d ever thought they could be more, what the hell have they been doing all this time?

“Since I met you, I think,” he had shrugged.

Wrong answer, again.

“And you only bring it up when I have a date with someone else?”

She watched a series of antithetical emotions pass through his features, understanding, confusion, acceptance, denial, resilience, cowardice. He had seemed to find the small margins between all of them, when he had come back with, “It’s not because of your date, Poppy.”

“Then why?” She tilted her head as she continued to analyse him, again not sure what she was looking for, or what she wanted to find. That something tumultuous was already whirling within her, too late to be stopped, and Nico could seemingly see the warning signs.

“Why are you getting mad at me, right now?”

“I’m not mad,” she had denied, not even knowing if she was lying or not, “I’m confused. 2 weeks ago, we weren’t even talking, Nico-,”

“You said you forgave me for that.”

“I didn’t-.” She’d cut herself off before she could say something that would upset him, the conversation spiralling so far out of control from the momentary bliss he had provided only minutes ago - but she was too far up shit’s creek without a paddle, there was no turning back. She’d been wanting to have a proper conversation with Nico all week, what better time than the middle of the night on what was now his birthday? “That’s not exactly what I said.”

He had taken a step back, lips parting with an unreleased gasp, the once-hopeful glint in his eyes transforming into hurt. “You don’t forgive me?”

“I didn’t say that either,” she sighed, wanting answers, not to cause him anguish. “Please don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Then tell me what the hell is wrong? What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I don’t understand where this has come from, Nico! You come in here and kiss me out of nowhere and tell me not to date other people and I’m just supposed to blindly follow along when I don’t get what the hell is happening with you!”

“I think me kissing you makes it pretty obvious what I want to happen, Mohn.” He had tried to ease the tension, his voice level and steady, stepping forward with his hands raised in an attempt to calm her, but she had taken a slight step back, clearly unaffected. 

“It doesn’t.” She’d stopped looking at him at that point, keeping an eye on his feet to watch his encroaching steps. “Nothing about you is obvious. You don’t tell me anything and all I can think about is what I did wrong.”

If he couldn’t see the tears pooling at her lashes, he had to have heard the break in her voice - a sure indicator that she was close to crying - but his steps had stopped, feet seemingly stuck to their place on the hardwood flooring of Poppy’s apartment, and she could feel her heart shatter knowing he wasn’t persisting again.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He tries to reassure her, but it’s no use.

Maybe she would have believed him if he’d held her while he said it, transferred the meaning through touch to her skin, gripping her with every word until she truly understood the weight of them.

“It had to have been something. You don’t just stop wanting to know a person for no reason, Nico, so what was it?” She made her way to her couch, perching on the edge of the seat with her knees pressed together, and looked over to where he remained standing.

She could feel her temper flaring again. 

How could he have the nerve to do this to her - to turn her world upside down in a matter of minutes - and not have the answers she needed to accept it?

“Poppy-,”

“I need to know. I can’t drop it and forget about it, and I’m sorry that I made it seem like I could, but if you want us to move on from this, if you want to come here and kiss me like that, and tell me you don’t want me seeing other people, I need to know what happened.”

“I-,” Nico sighed heavily, shoulders drooping, any confidence and bravado he had displayed after their kiss now a distant memory. “I don’t know.”

She had an immediate, striking thought, that maybe if she asked closed questions, he could give her an answer, and so, with misplaced courage, she asked, “Was it her?”

“What?”

“Your girlfriend. Did she ask you to stop talking to me?”

It was a thought that had been plaguing her for longer than she’d like to admit - unable to shake the idea that maybe Talia had seen one of the texts she had sent, had gone through Nico’s phone and seen any of their older messages, any photos he might have kept on his phone, maybe a memory had come up from snapchat, maybe someone had mentioned Poppy and her curiosity had been piqued. 

Poppy had always thought if she was dating someone, and they had a Poppy, she might feel some type of way about it. 

But her and Nico were just friends.

Nico rounded the couch, sitting on the cushion beside Poppy, their knees knocking as he reached into her lap and took her shaking hands in his.

“Do you really think I’d stop talking to you just because someone asked me to?” Their eyes had met again, sadness brewing in the dark coffee colour surrounding his dilated pupils, and a glassy film coating her own. “Poppy, I would never.”

“I don’t know what to think, Nico, because you won’t tell me.”

“Because it doesn’t make sense! I try wrapping my head around it, try coming up with some kind of explanation, but nothing I say is going to change what I did to you, Poppy.”

Her question before had gotten her an honest response, had elicited something real and undeniable within him - he’d never stop talking to her because someone asked him to. So it was his own decision, subconscious or not. Maybe she could help dig further, she thought.

“Why did you kiss me?” She asked after a beat.

“I,” Nico pondered over it before rushing his answer, a wave of emotion flashing across his face before his eyes locked on hers, ready to let her in. “Because I wanted to.”

That was a start - a simple question, a straightforward answer. 

“Was that the first time that you wanted to?”

“No.”

Poppy could feel some semblance of confidence coming back. Closed questions, concrete answers, she could keep this up.

“When was the last time you wanted to kiss me?”

She could have asked the first - she sure as hell wanted to know it, but if he’d thought of being more the entire time they’d known each other, there was a lingering possibility there were many times - and they would be there until sunrise if they started from the beginning.

“Finnegan’s.” 

“The bar?”

“We went there when we came back after we crashed out of the playoffs, do you remember?”

She remembered.

It had only been a couple of days before Nico had left for his summer back home in Switzerland.

Their loss in Carolina had been devastating, the boys came back broken and defeated, and all just wanted to drown their sorrows before they broke for their off-season. Poppy had been out with Nia and Kelsey and a few other friends at another bar when Jack had responded to her instagram story, saying they’d be at the Irish pub that was a staple within the team, and she should come over and join them.

She had made her way over pretty late, wanting to make sure her friends were okay without her, and arrived when most of the boys were completely shit-faced, past the point of tears and moping and deep into a mass state of hysteria and loud jubilation for the successes along the way.

She had found Nico in a booth in the far corner of the bar, head slumped over the back, eyes seemingly tracing the cracks in the ceiling until she crawled into the bench behind him, leaned over with her elbows resting on either side of his head, and took up his entire view. 

“What’cha doin’?” She’d asked, lips twisting at the sight of his dizzy eyes trying to correct themselves to focus on her. 

He’d quickly given up, pressing his eyes closed to shut out the risk of nausea taking over, the outer corners crinkling, the sides of his nose scrunching and his eyelashes fanning a shadow over his cheekbones - her own eyes were level with his lips, so he couldn’t really hide the way they curved at the quick glimpse of her.

“Suffering,” he had muttered, squinting one eye open to catch a brief, upside down glance of her. Nico was never this down after a few drinks. He was giggly, he was loud, he was touchy and clumsy - he was never the hide away in the corner sad type. “Wanna join me?”

“Always.” She affirmed, making her way around to his side of the booth and sliding in beside him until her bare thigh pressed against the somewhat scratchy linen of the pants he wore. 

“I’m probably not the best company tonight,” He remained in the same position, neck craning so the base of his head could rest atop the back of the seat, and his eyes closed - giving Poppy the perfect opportunity to properly look him over.

The few moments they’d had together, alone, over the past few weeks, he’d been pent up, stressed, overworked and on the brink of eruption, so this was the first time in a long time she’d managed to catch him without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Only, that weight wasn’t so easy to shift.

She saw it in the bags under his eyes, in the unkempt playoff beard he was yet to shave off, in the stuttered way his chest rose and fell with his attempts at deep, calming breaths. 

As she watched him, the corner of her lip tucked between her teeth in contemplation, she knew there was nothing she could say to make him feel better about this. He just had to feel it out, process it in his own way without her interference - but she wanted to be there, at least.

And as much as she wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, that he did the best he could, and led his team through one of their strongest seasons in recent franchise history, she wanted to provide him comfort in the quiet, too.

“I don’t mind.”

And so, with little trepidation, she placed a hand on his chest, over his heart, and rested her head next to it, glancing up to see the push of a dimple forming on his cheek as his arm stretched around her and welcomed her into his warm embrace.

“You wanted to kiss me then?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Didn’t seem like the right time, though,” he followed up with an answer to a question she hadn’t even asked, yet. “I was leaving too soon and I didn’t want you to think I’d just kissed you because I was drunk and upset.”

Her eyes moved to his lips, a question for herself whirling around in her head. Would she have wanted him to kiss her then? What would have happened in the aftermath? Where would they be now? Would she have thought that? Would she have spent her summer stewing over what it meant, and how his lips had felt against hers?

Before she had much time to think it over, Nico continued, being spurred on by such a distinct memory that he was rolling towards the answer she had been waiting for, and she wasn’t going to stop him to try and decipher her own feelings.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you when I went home, thinking about wanting to kiss you, or not kissing you, and what it all would mean, and I kept trying to distract myself thinking I could just figure it all out when I came back here but then I met Talia, and I felt wrong for thinking about you when I had her.”

That had made sense. Nico was always a guy that would do the right thing. If he had a girlfriend, he wouldn’t think of the prospect of something with someone else, even if that someone was Poppy, and that something was a culmination of years of pent up feelings finally coming together to form something potentially wonderful.

She didn’t quite need or want to hear the rest. Didn’t want to hear how he’d gone looking for a distraction, and found just that. 

Nico was loyal, and for him to maintain that essence of himself, he had to ignore the possibility of Poppy. Some subconscious part within him saw her as a threat to the stability he had with the perfect girl from back home, and he boxed her away to make room for what could be with Talia.

It stung, but he was right. Neither of them could change what had already happened.

“Do you think you could ever forgive me?”

She’d nodded after only a second, barely even thinking about it.

Jack’s words from New Years Eve rang through her, suck it up and move on.

Nico had his reasons, she had her answers. He wasn’t bored of her, wasn’t tired of her or annoyed by her. He’d been so caught up by his unspoken, untranslated feelings for her that he twisted himself into untangle-able knots that were only just starting to loosen up enough to be picked apart.

“Could you maybe say it?”

“Yeah, I could.” she had said through trembling lips, the hurt in his voice burrowing through her eardrums, lodging itself in her own throat, and dripping slowly but surely into the depths of her chest. “I will.” She had to be more sure, needing to erase any doubt she had planted within him. “I do.”

“You do?”

He still held her hands in his from when he had sat down, palms warm and slightly perspirant from his tight grip around her knuckles.

“I forgive you.”

His mouth twitched into a shaky smile, his eyes catching the soft light and twinkling with emotion, and she definitely wanted to kiss him, then.

She had wondered if this is what he felt when he’d kissed her before, this burning need. Her fingers twitched in his hold, her heart thudded in her chest, and her lips parted in anticipation, until she could finally slam the breaks on her torpedoing thoughts.

“It’s just a lot to process, and I don’t really know how I feel.”

She had wished she could take it back as soon as the words left her mouth, and Nico’s features had folded as he took them in. He broke eye contact almost immediately, head dropping to look down at their hands until he released hers back into her lap. 

“I get it.” He uttered, forcing a smile as he glanced back up at her, briefly. “I sprung this on you out of nowhere, I’m s-,”

“Please don’t apologise,” she interrupted before he could go there, knowing it would send her brain into overdrive if he let even the thought of regret fester between them, “I’m glad you did. I don’t want you to be sorry about it.”

Relief washed over the both of them in a warm, steady stream as he nodded, leaning into the back of the couch, legs spreading as an elongated sigh wracked through his torso. 

He ran a hand through his hair, and Poppy’s eyes flickered to the flex of his fingers, the strain of his wrist, the flash of protruding veins where his sleeve had pulled up with the stretch of his movements. 

His eyes closed, and she took him in just like she had that night in Finnegan’s bar.

She’d had an urge then, a desire even, to provide comfort - to share his burdens, make him forget the pain he had just endured, wash it all away with encouraging words, gentle touches. A shoulder to cry on, two ears to listen, and, albeit she didn’t entirely know it at the time, a whole heart that was his for the taking.

And take it, he did, held it all summer, bent it all sorts of ways out of shape up until New Years Eve, and it was still in his hands. Smushed, dented, squeezed to within an inch of his life, her heart was his.

It was up to her now to figure out what she wanted him to do with it. 

“I made a promise to my mom about the date, Nico, I have to go.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, seemingly resigned to the fact he had maybe been a little too lost in the moment to make such a crazy demand of her. 

“And I think maybe we both need a little time to properly think about what is happening here.”

“Time?” He practically shot up, alarm in his eyes.

“We’ve barely been apart all week, Nico, I think that might be why we’re both so,” she struggled for the right word - pent up, emotional, strung out, “Intense.”

She had known she was emotional, overthinking to the point of ruin, but maybe he was too. Maybe that’s what had led to the kiss, to the outburst of sentiment. They were both in the depths of a pressure cooker of emotions, and some space might do them good to gain a little clarity.

Maybe with a little more time to think on it, to consider what he was admitting to, have a little breathing room, and act more on something concrete than a fleeting in-the-moment feeling, he might change his mind. He deserved the opportunity to do so, she wouldn’t hold it against him.

“How much time do you think you would need?”

“I’m driving up to my parent’s house on Friday, so I would have been away for most of the weekend anyway, maybe we check back in on Monday and see where our heads are at?”

“4 days,” he muttered as if he’d just counted them in his head. “I can do that.”

“Yeah?” He had nodded in response, and there was something like hope that lingered between them, sharing small smiles and gazing through glassy eyes. “You’ll be so busy you won’t even get the chance to miss me.”

She believed it to be true - Nico had his family over, would be spending the latter end of the day with them, and had 2 big home games in a row to worry about. Poppy would be the last thing on his mind.

If she had blinked in the moment, she might have missed the way his observation slipped to her lips, lingered there for a brief second, and glanced back up to flicker between her eyes again. “Not possible.”

“Poppy, have you suffered some kind of brain injury I don’t know about?” Nia’s voice rings through the speaker of the phone pressed to her ear, already supposedly-styled hair fanned out around her as she lays staring at the ceiling, willing herself to get up and go before she’s late.

No matter how much she doesn’t want to go on this date, her mother will kill her if she hears anything other than a glowing review. On time, preened to perfection, polite and sociable. 

“Maybe I hit my head in my sleep at some point,” she thinks out loud, glancing back to the sharp edges of her bedside table and wondering if she could have thudded into it in the night.

Surely she would have a scar or a bruise.

“You must have,” Nia agrees, “That’s the only logical explanation why you’d ever consider telling the guy you’ve been hung up on since you first met him that you need time to think about how you feel,”

“Ni,” Poppy groans, “I called you for advice, not a lecture.”

“If you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes, and you my friend, are a dumbass.”

“In my defence-,”

“Nope!” Poppy doesn’t know what Nia is doing on the other end, but she hears something clatter as if being slammed down on a table in protest, “There is no defence, you’re an idiot.”

“I didn’t know how I felt about it, Ni,” Poppy sighs, sitting up and catching sight of herself in the mirror. She doesn’t know why so much of her time tonight has been wasted trying to look so good when she doesn’t even want to. When she’d gone to visit her parents, her mother had practically given her a full blown rundown of the guy she was meeting.

Tucker Lyon, she can’t help to instinctively roll her eyes at just his name, works in investment grade finance for one of the Big 4 - she hadn’t cared enough to ask which one. His family are property people, her mom had said, and own enough Manhattan real estate to hold some serious power. Priscilla had met his mother years ago at some luncheon in the city, and apparently the two had been in cahoots since then to set their children up.

Poppy doesn’t want to be set up with some walking red flag, biting her tongue over a plate of food too small to satisfy her hunger while he mansplains stocks and shares to her.

She wants to be in whatever bar the guys are holed up in, tucked under Nico’s arm, side practically glued to his, sipping cocktails and celebrating him like he deserves to be celebrated.

But instead, she can admit, she has been a royal idiot.

“I still don’t know, it’s all come at me full force and I don’t understand my feelings.”

“Bullshit!” Nia scoffs, “You knew you were into him the second he first flashed those dimples your way.”

She isn’t entirely wrong.

Poppy had once harboured a slight crush on him. In the very early stages of their friendship. One small enough that when she realised it was completely one-sided - and she was being delusional to ever think his cute nickname for her and his insistence on spending time only with her was anything more than his attempt to make a friend - she could swallow it down until it was barely anything.

She trained her heart not to stutter when he approached her, told her brain to shut up when he flashed her one of those perfect, all consuming smiles, and could cross her arms to restrain her hands from wanting to hold his whenever they walked side by side.

She’d become so good at suppressing her feelings, she’d forgotten she had them.

She had forgotten all the times they had hung out alone over the years, never second guessing all the looks and the touches, the times he’d let her stay over if it got too late to go home alone, and the times he’d waltz into hers like he owned the place.

She’d forgotten when she had seen him with Talia, always claiming the feeling in her gut was one of loss and reminiscence, not envy and bitterness.

She’d forgotten when the Hughes brothers had helped her move a couple months ago, and Luke had questioned the amount of Nico he was helping to scatter throughout her apartment. Pictures on her bookshelf, pictures stuck to her fridge with souvenir magnets from Swiss gift shops, a couple hoodies, Devils branded shorts and big t-shirts of his he’d come across in the boxes. 

“I didn’t realise you and Cap were so close,” Luke had picked a frame out of one of the boxes, the picture of Nico and Poppy at the Halloween party inside, and waved it in her direction as she stood with her hands on her hips, figuring out if she wanted to alphabetise or colour code the books she was displaying. 

“Huh?” Poppy tilted her head towards the tall boy, watching as he shook his curls back into place and ran a hand through them. He’d worked up a bit of a sweat lugging her boxes upstairs, and now that everything was finally moved, Jack had gone to get them food, and Poppy and Luke were getting started on unpacking the easy stuff. She looked to the picture in hand, reaching over and taking it to get a closer look. “I guess we were, I don’t really know.” She wasn't a good enough actress to properly pull off the nonchalance she was aiming for.

“You don’t know?” Luke scoffed, rifling through other pictures in the box - all framed, mostly of her and Nico, some just the two of them, some of them in groups, but always side by side. Always grinning ear to ear. “You’ve got like a shrine in here, PJ,”

“It’s not a shrine,” she had argued, “You don’t keep pictures of your friends? Sounds kind of cold, if you ask me, Moosey.”

“I keep pictures on instagram and my phone like a normal person.” He chuckled.

“Generational gap, you kids are done for when the cloud goes down, you know. Physical media is forever.”

“You sound like my mom.” Luke jibed, and true to his nature, unable to stop himself before he inadvertently crossed a line, he asked with a weird wiggle of his eyebrows, “So, you wanna keep Nico forever, huh?”

“Shut up, Luke.” If Poppy had something soft enough, she would have thrown it at his head. The photo frame in hand seemed like overkill, and she didn’t want to hurt the kid, just make him stop. She didn’t much like talking about him, what they once had, what they once were. Even if he did have the wrong impression of what they were. It was upsetting, and she didn’t want to get upset - not in front of Luke. “You can keep those in the box.”

Luke had reached out for the frame in Poppy’s grasp, had watched as she hesitated giving it back, as she looked down and took in the huge smiles on her and Nico’s faces, and as she made the decision not to put this one back. Maybe she could phase it out, wait until she took a nicer, more meaningful picture with someone else before she replaced that one.

“I’ll keep this one out. I look cute.”

"Sure." His sarcasm was not entirely appreciated.

She had heard him chuckle to himself as she stood the frame on one of the shelves, placing it between a scented candle she had no intention of ever lighting and a small faux lavender plant. Not shrine-like at all.

She’d forgotten about any suppressed feelings until Nico kissed her.

Until he opened up Pandora’s box, releasing all her pent up emotions to roam freely, creating chaos and causing havoc through every corner of her entire existence. 

For the past 3 days, she’s thought about him with everything she has done. 

On Thursday afternoon, sat alone in her office, going over emails and wondering what he would be up to with his family. Was he happy, were they having fun, did he think about her for a second?

On Friday evening, driving alone on the long winding roads to her parent’s house and listening to the commentary for the game on the radio. Making it to the house in time for the 3rd period, and seeing the team celebrate. Was he well rested, excited for his family to watch him play at home, did he look up into the staff suite at the Rock and wish she was there cheering him on?

On Saturday, retreating to her childhood bedroom after another tense family dinner, snuggling up with the dogs on her bed as she watched the game. Was he beating himself up, had he gone straight home on his own after the loss, did he have the same urge to call her as much as she wanted to call him?

Did he, on any of those nights, lay awake thinking about that kiss?

About how right it had felt? How he had exerted his subtle dominance over her with such ease, large hands encompassing her face and holding her to his lips like his life depended on it?

Did he think about where it could have gone if she hadn’t shut him down? Where they could be if he’d made a move before?

She’s been thinking about it. Non-stop thinking about it.

Thinking about that kiss, and the possibility of others - the moment in the bar, all the other potential moments he had wanted to kiss her and hadn’t. The fact that maybe her feelings had never been one sided, and she’s wasted years pushing them down for nothing.

“Do you think I made a mistake not cancelling this date?” She asks her friend in a moment of vulnerability, her mind reeling with the possibility that she has already fucked up what could be.

“No.” Nia assures her, surprisingly. She’s been calling her an idiot all night, what does she mean, ‘no’? “I think he needs to sweat a little, let him think about you out tonight with another guy, and come tomorrow, his mind will be made up.”

“You don’t think we might be overestimating how much it bothers him?”

“Don’t make me call you a dumbass again, Pop.” Poppy can hear the rolling of her best friend’s eyes through the phone. “And send me a picture of your outfit before you leave.”

Nico

Nico has never been so physically uncomfortable in his life.

For a man who plays contact sport for a living - has played it for a good chunk of his existence, and has suffered countless knocks and injuries, slept in one too many uncomfortable positions in planes, buses, trains and even hotel beds, and who’s face has had more than enough encounters with the wrong end of a pair of skates - that is saying a lot.

But every inch of him, every fibre of his entire being, feels irritated in some way.

It’s a feeling like unforeseen static shocks passing over every surface of his skin. Like little bugs crawling all over him and he can’t swat them away. Like random strands of fine hairs that can’t be seen by the naked eye but God, can he feel them. He feels them everywhere.

From the top of his head to the tips of his toes, he feels something prickling, stinging, burning. 

Itchy.

Like a scratch he can’t reach in the very middle of his back.

And it’s not like he doesn’t know what it is.

He’s felt it ever since he left Poppy’s apartment in the early hours of Thursday morning. He had hardly slept, getting maybe 3 or 4 hours in before his alarm shrilled from where it charged on his nightstand. 

He has tried to use the same coping mechanisms that get him through his bouts of homesickness - where he closes his eyes and tries to provoke a memory for each sense.

He pictures the views from one of his many hikes, endless fields of green grass, crystal clear lakes, winding footpaths and mountains that stretch as far as the eye can see. He imagines gathering around a fondue table back in his favourite restaurant, and can smell the freshly baked bread, can taste the melt-in-the-mouth flavour once it’s been dipped in oozing, melted cheese. He can feel the softness of the freshly washed sheets back in his childhood bedroom and can hear the chorused chirps of the birds outside his window in the early mornings. 

It’s a technique that has helped ground him in the past, and he had thought that maybe if he applies the same logic, it will dull the ache in his fingertips that yearn to reach for his phone and text the girl who has asked him for space.

If he thinks hard enough, he can still taste the sweet but subtle vanilla of Poppy’s lip balm. He can smell the fresh-cotton essence of her laundry detergent, can hear the melodic sounds she had hummed into his lips, can feel the softness of her skin on the pads of his fingers, can see, clear as day, the dazed expression etched into her features like she had gotten caught up in the fantasy too.

If it wasn’t so easy for him to mentally transport himself back, he wouldn’t have been able to make it 4 days without seeing her. 

He had known it would be hard, but, thankfully, he thinks he got himself enough of a fix to make it to Monday.

He’d taken all he could with just one press of his lips to hers, had taken more of Poppy than he had ever dared to take before, and his subconscious was clinging onto it for dear life, hoping with everything in him she could decide to give him more.

4 days.

He has never known time to be so cruel. For it to drag out every minute like it was an hour.

If his life had a remote control, best believe he would be jamming the hell out of the fast forward button. 4x speed, skip to the next chapter, not wanting or needing to know what happened in the in-between.

He’s always thought himself to have patience - good things come to those who wait, after all - but this had become the ultimate test.

He had tried to immerse himself in whatever was going on each day, hoping they would pass quicker, less painfully, but it had been no use.

His birthday had passed by in a dizzying blur. He’d had a late morning skate, had come home to his family waiting for him, had gone to dinner with them, caught up over Italian food in one of his favourite spots by his apartment, and had driven his parents, his sister and her boyfriend back to their hotel with the promise of dedicating some time to them before the game on Friday.

Every single thing had reminded him of her.

Being at the Rock and wondering where in the building she might be, and if she was reminded of him with the littlest things. If she was thinking about him, what she was thinking about him. Seeing his family, imagining her place at the table as they all exchanged laughter and stories over pasta and wine. Thinking about what she might contribute to the conversation, how she would get along with his sister, how they’d gang up on him and poke fun, but she’d hold his hand under the table and squeeze to let him know it was all in good humour.

In the locker room after the win against the Blackhawks, trying his best to get involved in the celebrations but just wanting to call her, to hear that she had watched, and was proud of him and the team. And even after the loss against the Canucks, he wanted to hear the same. He wanted to go straight to her place, the passenger seat of his car painfully empty as he drove himself home in complete silence. 

And he had tried his best not to get too into his head about the whole space thing.

Poppy was right, after all. Things had gotten intense.

He had been intense - marching over to her place and kissing her out of nowhere. As right as it had felt, it was stupid. It was hotheaded and impulsive and it wasn’t considerate of her feelings.

But, God, he was so caught up on her he couldn’t help himself. He should have seen in the days they had spent together prior that they needed to speak more about everything before he threw himself at her like a neanderthal. 

He’d only considered what conclusion he had reached, and as much as his conversation with the guys on the plane gave him an idea of Poppy’s mindset, some words needed to be exchanged before he planted one straight on her. The whole thing could have gone so much better if he just knew how to communicate everything with her properly.

Even before the kiss. Before New Years, before Talia, before Summer - if he knew how to speak about his developing feelings for her, this whole mess could have been avoided.

He wouldn’t be sat alone in a bar, yet again, as his friends surround him, partaking in the celebrations that are supposed to revolve around him, wallowing in self pity.

He wouldn’t be thinking about Poppy, out in some fancy restaurant somewhere else in the city, with some stick-up-his-ass loser who doesn’t deserve a second of her time, and imagining her giving him one of those earth shattering smiles - the one where her the outside of her eyes crinkle in the corners, and every time he sees it he imagines the lines settling there as she ages, and it’s always a version of the two of them, old and grey, side by side, smiling together.

He imagines her taking him back to her apartment, curling up with him on the couch Nico helped her haul up the stairs after she had found it for crazy cheap off of some sketchy ad on Facebook marketplace. He sees her slowly replacing all those pictures she has of her and Nico with pictures of her and him, phasing him out of her space like she would eventually phase him out of his life.

He thinks about her taking him to her bedroom - the one he had yet to see in her new apartment, but imagines it’s just like her old one; way too many pillows and throws, a thick, plush duvet that looks like she’s climbing into a cloud, and a beat up stuffed toy her grandmother had given her when she was young. 

He doesn’t want to wish that Poppy is currently welcoming someone into her life that doesn’t suit her, but he can’t help himself.

He hopes this guy is late - and doesn’t even apologise for it. He hopes he orders off the menu for her, or criticises her choice of wine for not pairing with her choice of food like a complete snob. He hopes he’s awful to wait-staff. He hopes he’s type of guy who writes a suggestion on the tip line of his receipt instead of leaving a minimum of 20%. He hopes he chews with his mouth open, spits when he talks and scrapes his knife along the ceramic of his plate as he cuts his food, causing that toe curling sound that makes Poppy want to scream.

He hopes he doesn’t offer her his jacket, because she always refuses to take one out. He hopes he doesn’t think to give her a piggy back, because she always wears shoes out she knows she doesn’t want to walk in, but always wants to walk home if it’s nice out. He hopes he walks on the inside of the sidewalk, leaving her to the dangers of walking roadside, and walks too quick for her to keep up with little regard for how she likes to take her time on a night and stretch the evening out. 

He even hopes he smokes. Poppy hates smokers. And if, God forbid, they kiss, he’ll have smoker’s breath, and she won’t want to do it again. 

She won’t stand in front of him, eyes glazed over, lashes fluttering, brows furrowing, lips still pouting and fingers twitching to reach back out, yearning for more.

She won’t even kiss him back.

Not like she had kissed Nico. Not like she had clutched at his shirt like she wanted to hold him close to her forever. He wouldn’t get to hear that sweet, subdued sound she had made when his tongue had swiped tentatively at hers, or feel that slight pressure of when her lips had closed around it, sucking almost at the muscle before opening back up to allow for more of a taste.

No one else can get that.

No one else will savour it like Nico has, thinking about is for days on end, replaying the moment over and over until he has perfect recall of every small detail.

It’s probably a good thing she hasn’t shared much detail about this date, Nico thinks as he swirls the ice around his empty drink, sat right at the bar away from the sectioned-off area that Timo had rented out for the party.

If he knew more about it - about the who, about the where - he probably would be in a cab by now, knowing he was crossing a line but unable to do anything about it, his will outweighing any common courtesy just as it had a few nights ago. Or he would have spent the last few days in a google deep-dive, trying to figure out the kind of man her mother would approve of. Enough to set her up, at least - he doubts Priscilla Jensen entirely approves of anyone.

Nico finally makes eye contact with the bartender, and as she starts to make her way over, he feels like a divine intervention occurs - an arm falling onto the bar top beside his, a glimmer of metal flashing into his dark eyes - the reflection bouncing from a bracelet that is welded around the base of a slender hand.

“I’ll take another of these,” he lifts his glass when the bartender arrives, gesturing to the old fashioned he’d somehow landed on over beer tonight, “And whatever she’s having, please.”

 “Vodka diet coke, please,” a voice rings out from beside him, and once the bartender busies herself with the order, she asks, “Shouldn’t I be the one getting you a drink? I heard it’s your birthday,”

“Why should either of us pay when it’s going on a tab?” He chuckles, angling his body better to face her. 

“Ooh la-la, a tab,” Nia mocks, “Now I feel like I’m a part of an elite club!”

“I find it hard to believe you’ve never had your drinks put on someone else’s tab before.”

“Not the New Jersey Devils captain himself, it’s such an honour!” She raises a manicured hand and presses it to her chest, a playful smile etched into her features. 

“Did you come over here just to poke fun at me?” Nico asks, touching on the dynamic that has long been between the two of them. She mocks him, mostly all bark and no bite, he takes it on the chest, knowing she’s doing it from of her warped version of almost sibling-like love, and Poppy usually acts as the mostly-unnecessary mediator, dividing her attention between them both. 

“Of course I did,” she affirms, “You looked all mopey and miserable, how could I not?”

“How is me waiting for a drink ‘mopey’?”

“Uh, let me think,” she taps her finger to her chin, before lifting it to point at each feature she references, “The huge pout on your lips, your giant caterpillar eyebrows all slanted and frowny-,”

“Forget I asked,” he mutters, lifting his lips into a quick smile and thanking the girl behind the bar as she brings them their drinks. “Didn’t know you’d be out tonight,”

“I’ll be sure to send you an e-vite to my google calendar when I get home later.”

Nico’s throat tightens slightly at how similar Nia and Poppy are - always quick with a response, most of the time sarcastic, most of the time able to elicit a genuine laugh to rumble from the depths of his chest. “I see why you and Poppy are so close.”

“Hm,” she hums, making a show of checking her phone, “You barely made it two minutes, but it could be a new record.”

“A new record?”

“For how long you can go in conversation without mentioning her.”

“She’s your best friend, the one person we have in common, it’s normal for me to bring her up, Nia.” He reaches for his drink to take a gulp, hoping the ice might make his throat feel a little better.

He doesn’t even know why he’s denying his lack of willpower when it comes to Poppy - 2 minutes actually seems like quite the achievement when he thinks about how long he’s restrained himself from reaching out over the past 4 days. Nia approaching him like this has been the perfect excuse to think about her - to talk about her without feeling like he’s overstepping or assuming.

He could use this to his advantage.

“Is she a good kisser?”

Or not.

He chokes on his drink, thankful the liquid isn’t coming out of his nose with how much he hadn’t been expecting that question.

“She looks like she would be. I’ve always thought about it but there’s never been a right time to try it out. Maybe I should take a leaf outta your book and lay it on thick and fast when she least expects it.”

How he even thought he could gain advantage in this conversation is beyond belief. He’s out of his depth with Nia, as usual. She isn’t afraid to call him out - she never has been - and she’s the one person in the world Poppy would confide in. Of course she knows about the kiss.

“Is that what she said, I laid it on thick and fast,”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, lover boy.” She chuckles, picking up her cocktail and stepping away from him, “Thanks for the drink, Nico, try to enjoy the rest of your birthday party.”

“Wait!” He reaches out to stop her, not wanting to let a golden opportunity slip from his hands so easily. “You would have bought me a drink before, for my birthday?”

“I think you earn about 5 times my annual salary in a month, so probably not.”

“How about you answer a question for me?” He proposes, “As a gift.”

“I could,” she sighs, sitting down in the stool beside him, “But I heard you get touchy after gifts.”

He immediately regrets asking, but not enough to let her go. He’s come this far, and he has 4 days worth of questions he desperately needs answers to.

“Funny,” he gives a condescending smile, which clearly pleases her as she gives a genuine one back, lifting her spare hand to gesture for him to carry on. As if it’s that easy to narrow down all the things he wants to ask her.

One question. 

What did she say about the kiss? Did she like it? Would she do it again?

What did she say about him? About how she feels? About what she wants?

Where is she right now? What did she tell Nia about the date? About the who?

“The guy she’s out with,” he can’t even bring himself to say the D word, “Is he nice?”

The look she gives him is almost pitiful. In fact, there is no almost about it. She clearly thinks he’s pathetic, but it’s too late to retract the question now that it’s out there.

“I don’t think so.”

He doesn’t like the way his stomach turns at her answer.

He had wanted this, right? For him to be a gratuity-withholding, uncouth slob with bad breath. 

But the thought of her being out with someone that has the potential to hurt her, hurts him. His chest feels tight, his head feels muddled, and that everlasting itch returns to the tips of his fingers - the weight of his cellphone becoming that much heavier in his back pocket.

“I mean,” she carries on with a shrug and reaches for her own phone, “He was a no-show, so we’ll never actually know for sure.” She swipes at her phone until she brings up her message thread with Poppy, turning up the brightness to show Nico the picture she had asked her to send earlier. 

It’s a selfie taken in the overly tall mirror she had once made him pick up from Ikea, claiming it wouldn’t fit in her car and his was much bigger, and he doesn’t know why his first instinct is to scan the background just to confirm his earlier intuitions about her bedroom. Too many pillows, cloud-like duvet. He can’t see the stuffed toy, but he assumes it’s somewhere in there.

Poppy looks unbelievable. 

Her dress is short, like the one she had worn on New Years, fits snug around her waist and emphasises her curves in all the best ways. Her legs seem to go on for miles, adorned in knee high boots no doubt to provide some semblance of warmth. Her hair is pulled back, and she wears gold jewellery - rings, some small hoop earrings, and he’s only just able to stop his fingers reaching out to pinch at the screen because he can see the gemstone bracelet without the need to zoom in.

“Can’t be that nice if you’re standing up a girl that gorgeous, huh?” Nia asks, suggestively, leaning her chin into the palm of her spare hand as she looks up at Nico. “Some guys just don’t know how good they’ve got it.”

He figures he actually should be embarrassed about the relief that floods through him - washes over his entire demeanour, expression changing from defeated to victorious in a matter of mere seconds.

The crease that seems to have permanently formed between his brows smooths out, posture corrects itself, and his lips even almost turn up into a smile.

There’s a childish, territorial voice within him that wants to exclaim, Thank God! But he’s grateful that he’s able to mute it.

And, despite being privy to Nia’s games - despite knowing exactly what trap he is being lured into, what he’s about to fall for - he can’t help but suggest, “You should tell her to come out.” Because, despite knowing he had taken the bait, he can’t find it within himself to care. “I think I asked her one too many times to ask again.”

The one thing he had twisted himself into knots over since first hearing her utter the word date, hadn’t actually come to fruition.

There is no date. There is no uncouth slob.

There is Poppy, dressed as pretty as she is, practically waiting for someone to show her a good time. 

He can do that. He wants to do it - to be the someone that’s good to her.

“Oh, should I?” Nia asks, a knowing smirk causing her lips to twitch mischievously. She’s been playing him this whole time, and once again, he doesn’t care. “I don’t know, she seems resigned to spending the evening on her couch watching New Girl,” she sighs dramatically, clearly looking for incentive - once again, reminding him too much of the girl he longs for. “I don’t know if there’s much convincing to be done.”

“I’ll add you to the tab for the night.”

Rookie mistake, offering something up so quick.

“Is that all my efforts are worth to you, Nico, a few measly drinks?”

“What do you want?”

“I’m actually out with a client tonight,” she looks back somewhere toward the other side of the bar, Nico can’t even bring himself to follow her gaze. “Been trying to sign them to my agency for a while, and if I can fix this deal, I’m up for a promotion.”

“Nia,” he warns, not liking how long this story is becoming. Forget good things come to those who wait. He’s waited long enough. “What do you want?”

“They’re big Devils fans, I think a night with the team could really open them up to the benefits of working with me.”

“Bring them into our section.”

“And maybe some tickets, too.”

“Fine.”

Nia gives him a triumphant smile, “Great, I’ll let them know.” She salutes him as she stands back up, gathering her drink and phone between the fingers of one hand before backing away. “Nice doing business with you, Captain.”

“Aren’t you gonna text her?”

“Oh, Nico,” she jeers, using her free hand to grasp him by the chin. “Dear, sweet, naive Nico,” she gives his head a subtle shake before patting at his shoulder condescendingly, “She’s already on her way.”

If anyone asks, Nico isn’t admitting to keeping an eye on the door since Nia had made her way back over to her side of the bar, but he knows as soon as Poppy has arrived. He watches her make her way over to her friend, watches the two of them embrace and talk between themselves for a good minute. He watches and waits until her eyes meet his from across the crowded room, and it’s like everything else stops.

He’d somehow managed to immerse himself in the party spirit since he had found out she was coming, fitting back into the group, toasting along with them, engaging in conversations with his teammates, his mood vastly improved in comparison to earlier in the night - of which he’s sure Timo is relieved after his short-lived exile from Nico’s good graces — but everything fades to black when he sees her lips curve upwards from afar.

Someone is talking beside him - hopefully not to him, he thinks, he doesn’t remember being mid-discussion with anyone - but it’s just drowned out mumbling right now, and all he can do is tilt his head toward the doors that lead to the bathrooms, and wait for her to respond. When she nods and separates herself from Nia, he excuses himself from the group, edging out of their section and following her path, losing her a little in the thick crowd of people - the bar still packed from where they had played the Giants game earlier.

When he gets through the doors, he’s thankful no one else is lingering back there - no rowdy queue for the bathroom, no staff, no one but him and the girl who seems to be holding his heart like a hot potato, not knowing the best way to carry it without getting burned.

“Hi.” It’s a weak starter for a heavy conversation, but if he’s honest with himself, she’s taken his breath away.

The picture from before hadn’t done her justice. She’s a little worn into her look for the evening now, hair not so neat, skin a little shiny, lipstick faded - but this is exactly how he likes her, especially when he takes in the way her eyes gleam and her cheeks puff out with her smile.

He makes a conscious effort not to let his eyes drift directly to the smile - to her lips, which even the thought of them elicits such a vivid memory.

“Surprise!” she sings quietly, arms outstretched and hands shaking theatrically.

He steps toward her with his hands behind his back, fingers clasped together until he’s confident that his knuckles turn white, fighting the urge to curl his arm around her waist and pull her into him, needing to be closer. He watches intently as her eyes flick down to where his hands should be.

She backs into the wall behind her, not to escape his approach, but more to prepare herself for it - like she’s settling in and embracing it.

She isn’t running. She isn’t pushing.

She’s waiting.

“I’ve missed you.” Nico wastes no time in telling her the truth - telling her what she’s refused to believe every other time he’s said it, but he can tell with the tilting of her head and the rounding of her eyes that understanding has settled within her. She has no comeback, no it’s only been a few days, and he thinks she must have felt the drag of them in the same way.

“I’ve missed you, too.” 

Whatever anxiety has rooted itself deep inside him for the past 4 days dissipates almost immediately. 

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” He admits, without shame or reluctance. After Poppy had helped him overcome whatever had been censoring him before, there is no point now in holding back or beating around the bush. “You look so good, Mohn.”

A rush of confidence allows for him to close the gap, standing right before her as she leans against the wall, neck craning ever so slightly to look up at him. He still won’t touch, hands laying against the stone at either side of her hips, not daring yet to let even a sliver of his finger graze at her flesh.

“You look good, too.” She breathes, eyes glancing down to do an appreciative once over of his outfit, and he doesn’t miss the glint of pride cross through her eyes when she catches the glimpse of the gold that peaks out from the neck of his sweatshirt. 

“I’m sorry about your date.”

“Are you?” Her lips twist into a knowing smile. It’s an example of one of her many traits that he loves - she can detect his bullshit a mile off.

“Mmhm,” he nods, “I’m sorry a world exists where any man is stupid enough to stand you up, Poppy.”

“I’m the stupid one,” she argues, and he misses her gaze as soon as she takes it away, eyes darting to the floor in embarrassment. “I should have listened to you and cancelled in the first place.”

“I was stupid to ask that.”

“Maybe we’re both stupid.”

“Definitely.” He probably shouldn’t be agreeing to her calling herself stupid, but it comes out before he can think too much on it. They’ve both wasted too much time. 

“Did you have a good birthday?” She asks, and a slight movement between them catches his eye, her fingers twisting together as if she’s withholding her touch, too.

“It’s better now.” He smiles fondly as she rolls her eyes. 

“How are your family?”

“They’re good.” He doesn’t want to go into too much detail about how shamefully miserable he has been over the past few days - doesn’t want to tell her how his mom had called him out on his lack of contribution to conversations, and he’d managed to pin it on the stress of the season. She still raises a brow at his insufficient answer, and he expands before she can tell him off. “Everyone but Luca made it out, my sister had to go back already for work, but my parents booked a trip to Halifax to visit the Phillips’, I lived with them when I played up there, they have a few friends to visit in Canada but they’ll drop back to see me again before they fly home.”

He feels the tickle of soft fingertips at the inside of his arm, slowly grazing down as he speaks, and as he watches Poppy, he thinks she must not realise she’s doing it - letting intuition take over as she’s distracted by the conversation. He lets her take the lead on initiating any touching, and it takes all the restraint he has left not to barge through the door she’s attempting to slowly eke open. She’s the only person in the world who could make him audibly hear the metaphorical creaking.

“Did they get to watch you win?”

He doesn’t even know why he finds himself grinning at the question, but the tone in which she asks it bears a hint of pride. She had watched the game on Friday.

“My dad was pretty much in the stands in full gear, everything but the pads and skates, and my mom was repping Foundation merch, she’s run off across the border with my beanie.” He likes the way her face lights up.

“I’ll get you another.” She raises her other hand to card her fingers through his hair, and, for once, he’s thankful not to be wearing any sort of hat. The soft scratch of her nails is soothing, and he just about manages to stop himself leaning into her touch and purring like a cat.

That would be embarrassing.

He feels outnumbered, both of her hands on him, and it feels unfair not to be touching her - so when his thumb extends itself on the wall just beside her hip and strokes at the soft fabric of her dress until it’s softly digging in, he watches intently for any hesitation before he lays a palm flat against her side.

It feels like things are progressing both torturously slow and overwhelmingly fast at the same time. His heart feels like it’s slamming into either side of his ribcage, and like nothing else occupies his chest, the sound of it echoing as if banging on the walls of a deep, empty cavern.

“Did I already tell you how much I missed you?” He honestly can’t remember, but he’ll tell her again if he needs to.

The hand that had run through his hair rests now on the side of his head, her thumb swiping softly at his cheek as she cups the side of his face, and before he can even make sense of what is happening, he’s being pulled forward. 

He bends to her advances with quick reflexes to avoid clashing, and their noses bump just before their lips meet.

Her chest rolls forward until it presses into his, and both his hands grab at her sides to pull her flush against him, legs tangling, hips pushing together, bodies touching everywhere possible all the way up to their mouths. 

He gives her all the control otherwise, allows her to determine the pace, responding to her every move and every touch with fervour and heat. She pulls at him, one hand grasping at his sweatshirt and the other cradling the side of his neck, and he quickly lifts one to stifle the blow to her head as she collides back with the wall, barely noticing the pain where his knuckles meet the stone.

Their tongues press together at the same time, and Nico doesn’t even realise his lack of patience got the better of him until their battle for dominance kicks off between their lips.

He can taste the same vanilla lip balm, can smell her signature coconut scent, can hear soft, subtle moans, can only see the back of his eyelids, not daring to open them, just wanting to feel. And he can feel everything. 

He feels the softness of her hair beneath the hand that is protecting her head from the discomfort of resting against the hard surface behind her, can feel the skirt of her dress bunching up in his grip, can feel her touch, fingertips dancing at the the base of his skull, thumb pressing into his jaw, her other hand making that same grabby gesture at the thick fabric covering his torso, squished between his heart and her chest, and he thinks he can feel the thump of her own heart on the other side.

He can feel her thigh pressed between his, the friction causing a heat to build deep in the pit of his stomach, swirling and whirling down, down, down until it culminates into the hard press of his hips into hers, and a rushed gasp combined with a guttural groan causes their lips to part.

They take deep breaths in unison, their chests bumping with every inhale, and he tries otherwise not to move.

He opens his eyes to find hers still closed, scrunched shut, even, and he tries not to be selfish - ignores the need to get a good look at her, to have this version of her ingrained to his memory too - and attempts to coax her back to him.

“Poppy,” he sounds just about as breathless as he feels. “Are you good?”

She hums in response, a subtle nod given, but he needs to hear her say it, and he tells her as much with a quick squeeze to her hip. Her eyes flutter open, gleaming and bright, framed by thick lashes and crinkling slightly at the outer corners as her lips turn up into a mischievous grin. “Better now.”

His chest feels like it’s about to burst open, like there’s a bear within him that is going to break out and pull her into its clutches, dragging her back safe to her home in his heart.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asks, because he has to - he doesn’t care if it’s rude to leave his own birthday party, doesn’t care that he’s been the most ungrateful person in the world all night.

He’ll make it up to Timo, get him something big the next birthday of his that rolls around. Throw him a party. Or he’ll take care of the tab the next time they’re out. Maybe even let him have the window seat the next time they’re on the same plane home. 

Except, he won’t be doing any of that. He’ll be taking the reins on booking flights and putting Timo straight into economy, smack-bang in the middle of a row surrounded by a family of 5, screaming kids, arguing parents, the back of his seat being kicked the whole 8 hours to Zurich.

Because, just as Poppy’s swollen lips part to accept his advances - as her chin lifts, about to drop with a big affirmative nod, and he’s about to get everything he’s wanted the past 4 days and beyond - the doors to the back swing open, and his 6 foot teammate stumbles through, arms outstretched as he notices the two of them practically intertwined.

“Here you are!” He exclaims, voice booming in comparison to the soft breathy tones he and Poppy had been previously speaking in. “Poppy, you made it!”

“Hi Timo,” Nico feels her retreat, feels her legs brush past his and back to her own space, her hand on his chest now the only part of her that touches him, and he follows her lead, taking his hands back and trying not to clench his jaw or his fists as she converses with the man who was once his friend. “How are you doing?”

“I’m alright, should be back on the ice in a couple weeks.” Timo had suffered an injury in one of their games at the back end of December, and hasn’t been fit to travel, and Nico finds an unspeakably bitter part of himself wishing it was something to do with Timo’s legs that were injured so he couldn’t have interrupted their moment. “Glad you’re here, this one has been miserable all night.”

He can’t be this oblivious, Nico thinks. Why is he still here? Why isn’t he retreating back to the bar and leaving the two of them to whatever he had clearly barged in on.

And when Nico looks back to his teammate, his long time friend, he sees the oh-so-evident glint of mischief and disobedience in his grey-blue eyes.

He is getting his own back.

Nico knows he was petulant to blame Timo for Poppy not being invited, knows there was nothing he could have done to change her going out on a date, or them not speaking for months while he was with Talia.

He doesn’t need him to enact his revenge to see he was wrong to ignore his texts, or to mope around at the party he had put so much effort into. 

He tries to give him a pleading look to stop whatever he is trying to do, but it’s no use.

“The guys will want to see you, Poppy, Jack’s beating himself up about his shoulder, could use a friendly face.”

“Oh,” Poppy casts a glance back to Nico, and he gives her a nod, implying that she go see to her friend. “I’ll go find him.” 

He can wait. He’s waited 4 days. He’s waited years, in fact.

And, after that kiss, he knows he won’t have to wait much longer. 

“You’re a real dick, you know that?” Nico mutters in their shared native language once he’s watched Poppy disappear through the doors to the bar, with a quick glance back and an apologetic smile before they closed. 

“Just saving my brooding captain from being arrested for public indecency,” Timo shrugs with a shit-eating grin as he passes Nico and heads toward the bathrooms further down the hall. “You’re welcome!” He calls back in English, raising his hands and giving a patronising thumbs up.

Nico runs a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face and wishing it was Poppy’s in its place.

It’s just an hour, maybe two, in the presence of his friends. Drinks, music, everyone in a good mood for the most part. It’s hardly like he’s walking out into a press conference after a 5 game losing streak and about to have all the blame placed upon his shoulders. 

It’s a party. 

Poppy’s here.

He can do this.

He can wait.

Next Chapter

taglist: @alwaysclassyeagle @bunbunbl0gs @idgaf-if-youre-here @youflowerr-youfeast @thearchersstuff @bellsdi0r @wonderheartz @jjgsunflower @butterflies35 @kenziepickle @josierosie @laheyxlover @mrsmattytkachuk (sorry if your tag hasn't worked btw or if I forgot you I'm a muppet tbh)

[specialagentlokitty]

B99 x reader - useful gifts

Okay I don't know if you do Reader with ADHD but if yes could you do one where she is super lucky? Like she's at a store and a robber tries to rob the place but he gets attacked by the Reader's heavy duty bag (given to her by Rosa) while she's listening to music and then the Robber tries to get up, only to slip of a broken jar that the Reader accidentally knocked over and had been too busy listening to music. It's only when she stops listening that she sees everyone cheering for her and the shopper giving her a lifetime pass in his store. If it's not your thing it's cool! I love your writing very much! - Anon 💜

Shuffling on your feet, you lightly nodded your head back and forth to the beat of the song you were blasting through your headphones as you looked at the snacks on the shelf.

You were trying to decide what it was you wanted to snack on during work, but there was so many things to choose from.

Turning around, you walked over to the other side, completely unaware of anything that was going on around you.

Turning around again, you picked up something so you could look at it, making your way around the aisle, then realising that you were going the wrong way you spun on your heel.

Looking at the baked goods, you began to pick something up and you felt something hit your foot.

Frowning a little bit you looked at your foot to see a bit of glass by it.

Pulling your headphones down, you carefully stepped over it and looked around for someone to help when you saw everybody clapping and cheering.

“I uh… I broke something I think?”

“It doesn’t matter you saved us!” Someone cheered.

“Huh? Saved you?”

You looked down at the man trying to reach for his gun, and you stepped on his arm, shaking your head at him.

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your badge.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.”

“What the hell is your bag made out off?!” He yelled.

“Oh it’s a heavy duty bag.” You grinned a little.

Reaching into your other pocket, you pulled out your cuffs and you reached down, cuffing the man, making him sit on the floor as you began to cordon everyone off.

“Did anybody call emergency services?” You asked.

“Yes, we did.”

You nodded and began getting everything ready for your squad to turn up because you had told them you were there.

Going to check up on the witnesses, you made sure that nobody was hurt.

“Are you all alright?”

“Yes, yes thank you. All thanks to you.” A woman sighed.

They began thanking you again, cheering and clapping and you smiled at them.

“Do you come here often?” The owner asked you.

“Oh yeah, every day, got to keep the squad fell fed.” You laughed.

“Come everyday and whatever you want it’s free, you never have to pay for a single thing.” The man smiled.

“No! I couldn’t accept that, you need to make a living.”

He walked over, placing the card into your hands.

“Please it’s the least I can offer you after you saved us, accept it.”

You sighed a little, putting it into your pocket.

You didn’t want to argue with the owner, so you thanked him and went about your work again.

You never thought your heavy duty bag would come in handy, but now you’re glad that you take it everywhere with you.

You would have to remember to thank Rosa when you saw her

[tonberry-yoda]

I don't know it if ur alright with jojos angst, BUT here's a prompt I think abt a lot. Dio is seen as cruel and emotionless right? (Cuz he is) but let's say his S/O dies protecting him, and to out a cherry on top of the cake he had literally been treating his S/O terribly as of late due to being blinded by his mission to kill jotaro and for power.

If u can't tell I love angst.

okay, i know i dont usually write heavy angst, but this just feels right. like it's the perfect prompt, plus i wrote something super similar a long time ago and wanted to make it better! also, obsessed with the kitty photo. Thank you so much for the request @kindadolly and I really hope you enjoy!!! <3

Why? - DIO

Pairing - DIO x reader

Warnings - heavy angst, death, spoilers for part 3 of jjba

Word Count - 993

Notes - thank you so much for the request again! this one is really heavy, so if you arent comfortable with the warnings above, do not read this one. i quite like it though and it was definitely something else to write that's for sure. i definitely need to write some fluff later lmaoooo. enjoy and please stay hydrated everyone! <333

"DIO, dear!" You hummed, running into his room before throwing your arms around him. "We should go on a date." You smiled and sat on his lap. "We haven't done that in a while, huh? What do you say?"

You watched DIO closely, his bright blonde hair shimmering in the candlelight that lit up the dark room you were in. "No."

"No? What do you mean no?" You crossed your arms and jokingly pouted, hoping that he was just playing with you.

"I mean it. No." DIO grabbed you from underneath your shoulder and placed you on the ground, continuing whatever work he was doing at his desk.

"Are you kidding me?! After all I've done for you?! I've found more than half of the stands that work for you and you can't even get us a simple dinner out?!"

"You're overreacting now, pet."

"Call me that one more time." Your eyes went dark. This was getting old. "I'm not overreacting, DIO. You're too stuck up on taking down the Joestars and all that bullshit. I just wanted dinner. Maybe even a walk around Egypt. Is that too much to ask?"

DIO turned to you, his eyes almost glowing. "Yes. It is. Now leave me be, I'm busy."

You turned and walked out of the room, clearly upset. He had to be kidding, right? After all you've done and he treats you like that?! Who gave a rat's ass about some stupid 17 year old and his grandpa. Sure, you wanted to help DIO, but god this was getting old.

You found a nearby guest room and slammed yourself onto the bed, ignoring the dust flying off of the sheets. Who did that asshole think he was anyway?

You turned on your back and looked at the dark ceiling above you. You knew you were falling into a trap when he pulled you into his arms. When he told you he loved you. When his claw-like nails ran under your chin as he called you loving names. But to be honest, you really didn't care.

You knew what you were getting into. You knew what this would take. So why were you still so upset?

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard a light tap on your door.

You sat up, the dust around you looking almost like snow. "Come in."

The door slowly opened as Terence D'Arby peeked his head into your room. "Sorry if I'm interrupting anything, y/n."

"No, you're fine, Terence," you wiped your eyes that you just realized were filled with tears. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine. I just wanted to inform you that it looks like the Joestars are about to arrive at the castle."

"Really?" You stood up.

"No need to panic. I have already informed Lord DIO."

You nodded and stayed in your place. "Well do what you must, D'Arby."

"That I shall," he bowed at you and stood back up with a smile. "This should be fun."

You giggled and watched him leave the room. "It should, shouldn't it?"

---

You're breathing was getting heavier and heavier. You clearly didn't train yourself well enough for this battle. Kakyoin, Avdol, and Iggy were already dead and it looked like DIO had taken care of Joseph Joestar and Polnareff, so maybe you could just sit for a little while.

You didn't even know why you were fighting in the first place. Well, you did. DIO wanted your stand in the battle. It was strong, so he needed it. But maybe you'd be doing a way better job if your own boyfriend had trained you or even taught you how to better use your stand without becoming so exhausted.

You took a deep breath and sat down on a nearby bench. Your chest felt like it was about to explode. And it didn't help that Polnareff had nearly kicked the shit out of you back there before DIO showed up. You coughed up some blood. Shit.

You were becoming lightheaded.

Dammit.

DIO could handle himself, right?

You stood up, miraculously, to check on him and it wasn't looking so good. Sure, you believed that DIO could take down a literal 17 year old, no matter how strong, but that stupid stand, Star Platinum, that was going to be the real problem.

You didn't know why, but you ran out, your lungs weak and your hands covered in your own blood, and covered DIO right as Star Platinum was about to finish the job.

---

DIO only remembers seeing your body fall to the ground and the world going quiet. He quickly lashed out at Jotaro and stopped time.

Shit, shit, shit.

"Darling?" DIO unfroze time and knifes went flying at Jotaro, seemingly knocking him dead. "Darling please."

DIO laughed, thinking you were just joking. Hoping that you two could go on that date you asked him for. Dammit why did he have to treat you like shit those last two days?

"y/n, this isn't funny. y/n please."

You opened your almost lifeless eyes and placed your hand on DIO's cheek. "Come on babe-" you were interrupted by one last coughing fit, apologizing for the blood you got on DIO. "We all knew you were going to outlive me anyway." You smiled and ran your weak fingers through DIO's hair.

"I know," DIO's tear fell onto your cheek and he wiped it away quickly. "I just didn't want it to happen so soon."

"Well, I'll see you in hell, won't I?"

"After how I treated you? Probably."

"Don't feel bad. You were just busy. I just..." you giggled, though not meaning to. "I really wanted to go on that date." Both tears and blood were running down your face as DIO placed one last kiss onto your cold lips.

When he pulled away, you were gone.

Why did he have to treat you like that?

He was going to kill Jotaro for this one.

[crazyunsexycool]

The sun ☀️, the moon 🌙, and the stars ✨

Chapter 10: fun is in the air

Pairing: alpha!Steve Rogers x alpha!Sam Wilson x alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Word count: 5.9k

Warnings: fluff, some heavy petting (at this point the alphas are edging reader), talk of birth control

A/N: we’ll this took for fucking ever to finish. But it was fun to write we are celebrating Steve’s birthday in this chapter. Next chapter will be very interesting!

Series masterlist

Ch. 9

“And this will work?”

“Well like any birth control it’s 99.9% effective. But it’s specifically made for you so you have a better chance to not have any super pups in the next six months.” Bruce says as he prepares the shot he’s going to give you. “Have you told them yet?”

You shake your head. “But with everything that’s happened I know they’ll understand. Besides, we haven't even talked about having pups either.”

Bruce hums in acknowledgment before taking an alcohol swab and cleaning the area of your arm where he’s going to give you the shot.

“So how about you and Nat. How’s that going?”

Bruce immediately blushes and you giggle.

“I thought you turned green, not red.”

“How did you know?”

“She told me about it.”

“She did?” He looked like he didn’t believe you.

“Mhm, I’ve gathered she isn’t the type to just open up to people so it must mean she cares about you. ”

“I don’t- It’s not easy. It wouldn’t be like you and the guys.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m a monster.” Bruce gets the syringe ready and sighs.

“You don’t look like a monster.”

“You know what I mean. I can’t risk it.”

“Does the other guy like Nat? If he does, I don't see a problem with the courtship. Also she’s pursuing you so she doesn’t seem to mind.” You say as he gives you the shot.

“That should be good for three months since this is a trial run. If it works I can make it last longer.”

“Thank you Bruce. And just think about what I said.”

“You’re welcome and I will.”

Walking back into the apartment you find Bucky laying on the couch reading. Other than when he’s asleep and not having nightmares he looks very peaceful at the moment. There’s no scowl on his face which is a rare occurrence. Without saying a word you climb onto the couch and duck under his arm in order to get comfortable.

“Hi.” He says as he looks down at you. “What’s going on?”

“Hi. Nothing, you just looked very comfortable and I wanted to join you.”

Bucky hums in acknowledgment, his free hand resting on your waist as he goes back to reading. You rest your head on his chest as he reads softly to you. This must be what Jules always told you about. The moments when you’re so at ease and safe with your mate that everything else just fades. He isn’t even doing anything and your brain is fuzzy, your body completely relaxing against his. It’s just you and Bucky in a perfect little bubble that could only be even better if Sam and Steve were there.

There’s a warm feeling on your back slowly coaxing you to wake up. You stretch and open your eyes briefly but the afternoon light bothers your eyes.

“Seems like we have two sleepy heads on our hands Steve.” Sam whispers and that causes you to open your eyes again.

“Just one.” You murmur.

Sure enough Bucky was also asleep. The book he was reading was long forgotten on the floor. You smile up at Sam who moves to kiss your temple.

“Seems like a good nap.”

“It was until you ruined it.” Bucky says sleepily.

You smile and kiss Bucky’s chest before getting up. Steve offers you his hand and when you’re up on your feet he pulls you into his embrace.

“You don’t have to work anymore right?”

“Nope, not unless a mission comes up at the last minute.” Steve informs you.

“I hope not, it’s your birthday weekend.”

“Unfortunately bad guys don’t take days off.” He mutters as he absentmindedly runs a hand up and down your back. “But let’s not worry about that, what do you want to do?”

“We should be doing what you want.”

“I want to do whatever will make you happy. So what will it be?”

“We can stay in and watch a movie.”

“I like that idea.” Bucky agrees.

“Me too.”

“Ok, movie it is.” Steve says.

“Awesome, I’m going to get blankets and pillows. I'll be right back. Someone should get snacks ready.” You walk out of the living room before anyone answers.

You come back a few minutes later with arms full of blankets. Steve moves the coffee table to the corner and you proceed to make a temporary nest big enough for the four of you. Bucky walks in with snacks and Sam picks a movie from the list he had made for Steve and Bucky to watch. Steve sat down first and you sat between his legs in order to rest your back against his chest. Sam and Bucky sat beside you while cuddling into each other. Watching them be so gentle with each other warmed your heart and being together as a whole and in such an intimate way relaxed you beyond belief. So much so that an overwhelming feeling hit you square in the chest unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. It was a mixture of love, contentment, trust and safety. The feeling bubbles in your chest and without being able to stop it something unfamiliar escapes your lips.

You chirped.

All the noise around you died down and you slapped a hand over your mouth. As if covering it would save you from embarrassment. All three men were staring at you wide eyed.

“I am so sorry. I don’t even know how that happened.” Your face felt warm the longer they stared at you. Sam smiled first and it put you at ease somewhat.

“That’s the first time you’ve chirped around us.”

“Is that what that is? But what does it even mean?” You question.

“It lets us know you feel safe and happy.”

“But I could just tell you that.”

“Well your omega instincts did it for you.” Steve said from behind you. “If an omega chirps or trills it lets us alphas know we are doing our job right.”

“You are.”

You smiled at them. Bucky sat up from his position at Sam’s side. Leaning in to kiss you. Sam followed and Steve had his arms wrapped around you. His kisses were on your shoulder until you turned and looked up at him. He kissed your cheek as the movie started and then the four of you settled down for the rest of the afternoon.

It was the Fourth of July and Steve’s Birthday. You were excited for many reasons. This would be your first time meeting the rest of their pack and also the first time you would attend a Stark party. Your pack would also be in attendance which was great for moral support because just the thought of meeting everyone was overwhelming.

The party itself was a pool party and it would be on different levels of the tower. The guys had told you that they would be spending most of the day in the pool. With that in mind you had bought a swimsuit a few days beforehand. It had a vintage look to it. Over the swimsuit you decided to wear jean shorts and a white button up that you tied in a knot around your waist instead of buttoning up completely. Your hair was up and away from your face and of course you didn’t wear any makeup since you’d be in the pool too.

When you got to the shared living space Bucky and Sam were putting the finishing touches on breakfast for all of you. They were also already dressed for the party.

“You should have gotten me, I would have helped.” You said as you got closer. Each of them stopping to accept your kiss.

“You are helping, by looking beautiful.”

You roll your eyes playfully at Sam just as Steve walks in. His hair was damp, like he just stepped out of the shower.

“Happy birthday.” The three of you yelled at the same time and Steve went red.

“Thank you. This looks amazing.”

“Well this was all Bucky and Sam, I can’t take any credit for it.” You wrap your arms around his midsection and push yourself up to kiss him. “Happy birthday honey.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up as Sam came up from behind you and Bucky’s head popped up from behind Steve. Both men take turns giving Steve their own birthday kisses. Somehow Steve was a blushing mess after getting all of the attention.

“What?” He says as he looks over at you.

“Nothing, you're just cute when you blush.”

“You should see him when he cu- ouch. Sam what the fuck?” Bucky rubs his shin from where Sam kicked him.

“Our omega is a lady, she doesn’t need to hear filth.”

“Just participate in it.” You wiggle your eyebrows at Bucky who’s sitting across from you. Bucky laughed. “Besides Sam, it's not like we weren’t getting hot and heavy in your car on our date the other day.”

“Oh really? I want to hear about that.”

“Me too.” Steve chimes in.

“It was after we went to the music festival. Sam took me home and we started making out in the car.”

“But someone forgot she was in the car and her ass hit the horn.” Sam smirked in your direction while Bucky laughed.

“Seems like you just like to pounce on all of us.”

“Wait, you haven’t pounced on me.” Bucky pouts. “I don’t like being left out, darling.”

“Don’t worry, your turn is coming.” You wink in his direction before taking a sip of coffee. “I just hope all this avenger training has prepared you for this moment. But for now can we do gifts?”

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“You’re kidding right? Of course I did. I’ll be right back.” You leave briefly and come back with a gift bag and an envelope. “Here you go.”

Steve smiled as he pulled you into his lap and then he opened the envelope, there was a simple birthday card and a small certificate in it. “What’s this?” He asked as he read over the voucher.

“Well I know you like to draw so I thought that you might like to paint and I thought it could be fun for the four of us to go. I know the studio owner, he gives classes at the center for kids. He’s willing to close the studio to give us private lessons if we call ahead and let him know.”

“Thank you sweetheart.” He kissed your cheek before he moved to whisper in your ear. “Maybe I could get the three of you naked and pose for me and I can stop imagining it.” He said with a purr.

The thought alone made you shiver and a small whine escaped your lips. Sam and Bucky smirked at your reaction. Steve however grabbed the gift bag as if nothing had happened and pulled out a few records and a small jewelry box. The records were of some singers and bands he had mentioned in passing, some were more modern but the others were from before the war. You had to go to five different places before you found them.

“I haven’t heard their music since the 30s.” He said as he opened the first one. “Bucky even taught me how to dance to this song.” He pointed at one of the listed songs and you smiled as you pictured a pre-serum and pre-war Steve and Bucky dancing around the living room.

“Well maybe you can teach me some dance moves.”

“I think I can manage that.”

“We can manage that. Don’t forget about us you punk.”

“Hey, it’s my birthday. I get to do whatever I want. So if that means hogging our girl, I will.”

You giggle at their back and forth before you stop them and ask Steve to open the last gift. When he did he found a pendant.

“What’s this?”

“This helps preserve your mate’s scent. I had to wear this little disc,” you say as you pull a small bag from your pocket then grab one of the small tablets and then open the pendant that was made to house the scent infused disc. “For a few days and it’s made for people that have to be gone for long periods of time. I thought you could add them to your dog tags if you’re on long missions. Since your suit disguises your scent I thought it would be ok.” You say as you hold the pendant out for him. He takes off his dog tags and adds the pendant then slips the chain back on.

Steve then grabs the pendant and inhales deeply, sure enough he’s carrying your scent with him now. He cups your cheek in order to turn you to look at him. Then his lips are on yours and he doesn’t stop the kiss until you’re putty in his hands. Just like he is in yours.

“These are perfect, thank you sweetheart.”

“You’re welcome.” You reply breathlessly.

Friday interrupts your quiet morning and informs the four of you that the rest of the team is waiting for you on one of the upper floors. So after cleaning up quickly you make your way up to the party. This was it, you would meet your mates’s pack.

Never in your life had you seen so much red, white and blue. The colors were everywhere. Steve squeezed your hand as you approached the team to keep you grounded. You had told him multiple times how worried you were that they wouldn’t like you. They were practically family. Fortunately you already knew Bruce, Nat and Pietro. The latter rushed up to you.

“Good morning Y/N, I’m glad you finally get to meet the rest of the team.” He greeted you and turned when he felt a hand on his arm. “This is Wanda, my twin sister.”

“Finally another omega.” She said as she hugged you. That was something you always forget, how affectionate omegas tend to be with other omegas. “I was getting tired of the alpha stench.” You both giggle at the protests.

“Hey, I’ll let you know that this stench costs quite a bit per bottle. Hi I’m Tony but you knew that. I’d like to officially welcome you to the tower. You are way hotter in person than what these three have said.”

“Nice to meet you. And thank you for letting me stay here.”

“Let you? I’m willing to sign the building over to you right now. You’ve made working with these three a dream. All I have to do is ask about you and their mood shifts. Especially grumpy over here.”

You smile up at Tony before turning to look back at your alphas. Sam gives a quick shrug and it feels like an admittance of truth.

“Y/N, this is Clint.” Steve motions to the next person in the group. His scent was mixed with something light and sweet but you couldn’t see any type of claim mark.

“Pleasure to finally meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” You smile.

The longer you were in their presence the more you realized there was nothing to worry about. You weren’t oblivious about them being cautious around you, seeing if you were truly trustworthy and deserving of being with their friends. But they were still inviting. It helped that Pietro, Nat and Bruce had already met you, it put the others at ease.

“And this is Thor.”

“Lady Y/N,” he takes your hand and places a gentle kiss on your knuckles. His smile is flirtatious, almost like he’s putting on a show for Steve, Sam and Bucky. “It is an honor to finally meet you. I must say words have failed your alphas when it comes to describing your beauty.”

Your brain was fuzzy. All of the attention was becoming overwhelming in the best of ways. Like when Bucky, Steve and Sam give you all of their undivided attention. It’s not your fault that you’re still getting a hang of this omega thing because you want to preen at the attention but you hold back. It doesn’t stop you from saying something ridiculous.

“I love thunderstorms.” There was really no thought process behind the comment.

Thor’s laugh is loud and boisterous, it’s truly like thunder. You couldn’t help but preen at the fact that it was you who made him laugh like that.

“Ok, that’s enough.” Bucky muttered as he pulled you against his chest and away from Thor. The others snickered at his actions as he walked backwards, placing Sam and Steve between you and Thor.

“It was nice meeting you.”

“Trust me, the pleasure was all mine Lady Y/N.”

Friday announces that guests are starting to arrive so the meet and greet is officially over. It went well enough and you couldn’t be happier. However as Steve’s mate you do have to be by his side as people initially come in but so do Sam and Bucky.

“Do you know all of these people?” You ask him after a few minutes.

“Not a single one. But it’ll be over soon enough.”

Just like Steve said you all stood there for only a few more minutes. It was just as your pack made it through the doors. Jules launched herself in your direction and you both immediately began to walk away while talking. You settled down on one of the couches and you introduced her to Wanda and Bruce.

“Uh oh the omegas have gotten together. We are so screwed.” Ricky said as he watched you and Jules animatedly talk with the others.

“Nah, it will be good for the pack.”

“Whose? Yours or ours?” Jonah said as he stepped up beside Steve.

“I don’t think we are two packs anymore. Just one.” Steve said, a fond smile playing on his lips as he watched you. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

****

You were sitting on Steve’s shoulders in the pool, facing Wanda who was sitting on her brother’s shoulder. Your hands were holding Wanda’s as you pushed each other back and forth.

“I don’t get the point of this game.” Wanda said as she tried to push you.

“The point is to knock the other person back into the water. Then you win.”

“Oh.” Is all she says then you see a flicker of red and a mischievous smile before you’re knocked back.

When you resurface you laugh but splash her.

“That’s not fair! I don’t have magic.”

“You didn’t say I couldn’t use it.”

“I am bored and there are some pretty girls over there that keep looking over at me. Goodbye sister.” Pietro shrugs Wanda off of his shoulders and is gone in the blink of an eye.

“Asshole.”

You laugh again and Wanda flicks more of her magic at you.

“I’m going to find someone else and then we’ll have a rematch. I won’t use magic but you’ll still lose.”

“You’re on.”

Steve’s arms are around your waist before you realize what’s happening. He pulls you close and kisses your shoulder. The eyes of other omegas, alphas and even a few betas are on you. They watch the display of affection that the Captain would never have shown before with intrigue.

“Having fun?” He asks as he looks down at you with a smile.

“A lot more fun than I thought actually.”

“Good. As long as you’re happy.”

“You should be happy too. It’s your birthday.”

“I would have been fine with something small. Just the pack maybe. And to be honest I was kind of worried.” He confesses.

“Worried, why?” You stand up and turn around, still in his arms.

“Well public appearances are part of my life and sometimes the PR team wants me to show up with my mates. Once they know that we’re together they’re going to drag you into it too. I wouldn’t want this to make you reconsider us.”

“Steve, I could never leave you. I care about you so much and you make me feel so safe and cared for. No one in my life has cared for me the way you and Bucky and Sam do.”

He smiles again at you and lowers his head so that he could give you a quick kiss on the lips.

“Are you pouncing on him again?” Bucky whines as he swims towards you. “When is it my turn darling?”

“If I told you, you would be expecting it and it wouldn’t be fun. You’ll just have to wait like a good alpha.”

“I don’t want to wait.”

“Is he always this whiny?” You ask Steve.

“Sometimes.”

“I’m right here. Besides, I never had an omega and never thought I would find one as beautiful as you.” Bucky pouts and gives you his best doe eyes. Steve chuckles behind you, knows Bucky’s laying it on thick, their bond is exploding with mischievous energy.

“Nice try, big guy. But I’m going to catch you off guard. You won’t see it coming.”

“You know I’m a super soldier right? I was trained to be aware of people trying to sneak up on me.” Bucky says as he moves to trap you in between himself and Steve. “Do you really think you can do that? Sneak up on me?”

“Yup.”

“You’re very confident. I like that omega.”

“I see you’re underestimating me alpha. I guess I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.” You say before slipping away from their hold. Steve chuckles as he wraps an arm around Bucky’s waist, both of them watching you swim away and then turning to wink in their direction.

“I think you’re going to be in for a surprise Buck.”

“I fucking hope so.”

“Just remember to be gentle and have fun.” Steve kisses his cheek.

“Oh I’m going to have so much fun letting her think she snuck up on me.”

“I think you’re underestimating her.” Steve chuckles again.

******

You were at the bar with Jules just talking and catching up on what’s happened during the week. Jules had been the one to suggest finding Jonah a potential mate here at the party since other than hanging out together as a pack he didn’t really put himself out there. You were leaning against the bar with a drink in your hand and scanning the room when you saw it.

“What is that face for?” Jules asked from beside you. She immediately turned around to see what you were looking at.

“I think I found a potential mate for Jonah.”

“Who?” Jules' eyes darted around the crowd to try and spot who it could be.

“Come on, we have some matchmaking to do.”

You looped your arm through Jules’ and walked around the pool area. Smiling at Sam as you passed him.

“Oh, why didn’t I think of this.” Jules whispered just before stopping behind Wanda.

“Hey Wanda, do you have a second?”

“Of course is everything ok?” She turned around, stopping her conversation with Maria Hill who also worked with the team.

“Yes, everything’s fine. We just wanted to talk for a second.”

“Oh ok.” She turned back and excused herself before you grabbed her and started walking. “So what’s up?”

“Have I introduced you to the rest of my pack?”

“Just Jules, why?”

“I’d like you to meet someone else.” You smile sweetly at her. She eyes you suspiciously just before you stop again. “Jonah, I’d like you to meet Wanda, Wanda this is Jonah. He’s one of my best friends and my pack.” You say as they just look at each other.

Jules nudges Jonah with her foot to get him to say something.

“Hi, I’m Ricky. Y/N’s other pack mate and Jules’ mate.”

He holds out his hand but you smack it away and make a face, silently telling him to shut up.

“Nice to meet you Wanda.” Jonah finally says as he stretches out his hand.

“Likewise, Jonah.”

As they shake hands they exchange dopey grins and you’re satisfied that you’ve done your job. Jules grabs Ricky before he’s able to say something else and you leave Jonah and Wanda to get to know each other. You wander back around the pool to where Sam was sitting with Nat, Bruce and Clint. Sam looks over his shoulders just as your chest is pressed against his back.

“Hey baby.” He says as he takes the hand you placed on his bare shoulder and presses a kiss to your palm. “What were you and Jules up to?”

“Matchmaking.”

“Who and who?”

You embrace him from your position, your arms resting over his shoulders and chest. Sam sighs contently at the closeness and your sweet scent.

“Wanda and Jonah. They’ve been eyeing each other for a while. I think they’d be cute together

“They could work. As long as Pietro is ok with it. He’s very protective of Wanda.”

“I’ll convince him.”

“Who is my sister talking to?” Pietro showed up beside you.

“His name is Jonah, he’s my pack mate.”

He gives you a disapproving look before turning to look at his sister.

“Don’t you dare go over there and ruin this. I know Jonah and I trust him with my life. They look cute together.”

“I don’t know. No alpha will ever be good enough for her.”

“I can see where you’re coming from Pietro.” You say with a nod. “But you remember how I saved you from Bucky when you basically broke into the apartment?”

Yes?”

“Well you owe me one, so let them be.”

“It is not the same.”

“Come on man, just let them talk, it's not like he’s going to claim her. Besides, I've had the chance to get to know him and I trust him. Plus I trust him to keep Y/N safe when she’s at work.”

Pietro is now sporting a pout. “Fine. But one chance, if he makes her cry he won’t know what hit him.”

“Pietro, I’ll help you kick his ass. I know his weaknesses.”

“That’s more like it. Now, do you have any cute friends for me?”

“Just ran out, sorry.”

Sam and the other chuckle as Pietro mutters a few curses under his breath.

“You’re cruel sunshine.”

“No I’m not, I’m saving some poor girl. Might as well give me a suit and let me join.” You say as you nuzzle into his neck and scent him, which gives you an idea. “Sam, baby. I need your help.”

“With what?” He turns to fully look at you.

You only smile in response and he raises an eyebrow.

The party had been going strong for a while. From what Bucky could see everyone was having a good time. He was on edge and vigilant in the best way. Bucky was confident he was going to win this little game you were playing and he couldn’t wait. Although he had lost sight of you about 15 or 20 minutes ago.

He had seen how you introduced Wanda to Jonah. Then how you went and hung out with Sam but then you went your separate ways. Curiosity got the best of him, especially when he was feeling a weird pull from his bond with Sam. As any good may and alpha Bucky left the pool area to find Sam and make sure he’s ok. Just outside of the pool area he finds you and Nat talking.

“Have you seen Sam?” He says as he comes up to you.

“I was with him a few minutes ago but he went with Clint. Something about who had the best aim.”

“Oh, ok.”

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah, don’t worry.” He gives you a smile and walks away.

****

On a different floor Bucky finds Sam and Clint playing darts. He didn’t know why he had been feeling the way he did but he was relieved Sam was ok anyway. Bucky spent a few minutes there and excused himself to go back to the pool. Just as he walks past the stairwell doors someone jumps on his back he tenses for just a moment. If it weren’t for the giggling and the sweet scent of honey he would have attacked.

“Omega.” Bucky said with a low playful rumble to his voice.

“What was that about me not being able to sneak up on you?”

“Fine, you win.”

“Good, because I want my prize.” You say in his ear before letting go of him and grabbing his hand to slip into one of the empty rooms on the floor.

His face lit up with anticipation. Once the door was closed to the room you were in Bucky pushed you up against it. One strong, warmed calloused hand and one just as strong cold hand land on the back of your thighs as Bucky pulls you up. He’s unashamed with the needy whine that escapes his lips as they find yours. Your hands roam freely from his arms up to his shoulders and to his back. Out of the three alphas Bucky understood the need for physical touch the most. He was always so sweet and gentle when it came to physical contact with you but right now he was letting his alpha take control. His touch was firm and without hesitation. The way Bucky kissed you at the moment was possessive and you loved it. This moment was different with Bucky than it was with Steve and Sam. Bucky was in full control. From the way he held you to the way his lips moved from your lips to your neck, his teeth gracing the spot he’d mark eventually.

You could feel his hardened length against your clothed core every time he rutted against you. The moans and whines you let out as you rolled your hips against him made him growl in response. Just as quickly as it started, Bucky slowly stopped.

“Fuck omega. You sound so pretty for me.”

“Alpha, I swear if you stop too I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Bucky chuckles before giving you a quick peck and helping you unwrap your legs from around his waist.

You pout up at him as your hands travel from his shoulder and down to his chest.

“I think the three of you got together and decided to leave me hanging every time until I have my heat. And that is very mean of you.”

“I’m so sorry my sweet ‘mega. Trust me you have no idea how hard it’s been for us to behave. Especially now that you’ve made a very beautiful nest for us and we have you in it with us.” He says between peppering kisses all over your face. “We want you so much.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. It’s killing us to not claim you yet but we know it can hurt and we don’t want to be the reason for you to be hurting.”

You give him a small shy smile.

“Don’t get shy on me now.”

“It’s just, you make me very happy. And sometimes I still can’t believe I have not one but three people that care about me so much.”

“You make me, us, very happy. We’d do anything for you. So we want to do this right. Now come on before I change my mind.” He pulls back and opens the door.

“I mean I still wouldn’t be against you changing your mind.”

He raises an eyebrow at you and you smile at him as you get in the elevator.

“You’re trouble.”

“The good kind.”

Day quickly turned to night. Everyone had moved away from the pool and back to the other floors. The team had moved to a private balcony where you were joined by your pack to watch the fireworks show Tony had created.

“Is this seat taken?” Steve asks while motioning to the empty area of the lounge chair you were sitting on.

“Nope.”

You move around and lean back so that he can rest against your chest. He sighs as you play with his hair and scent him. Sam and Bucky are close too, all cuddled up on another lounge chair.

“Today was a good day.” Steve muttered as he looked up at you. “Usually I don’t like big parties but having you and Sam and Bucky with me was great.”

“I’m glad you had a good time. You deserve it too.” You say before kissing his cheek.

“Alright everyone. I know there was that huge ridiculous thing out there that was labeled a cake but our very own Y/N made a personal care for her dearest alpha. Now why don’t you come up here you fossil so we can celebrate you properly.” Tony announced.

Steve looked at you confused but you only motioned for him to get up. Everyone gathered around a small table that had been sitting in the corner. The whole pack surrounded Steve and sang happy birthday in a loud and off key way, it was great. Just as he blew out the candles the first firework went off.

“When did you have time to make this?” Sam asked as he took a bite.

“Yesterday morning. I used Bruce’s kitchen.”

Steve and Bucky were silent while they practically wolfed down their slices. You watched them before you chuckled and shook your head.

“Mm, sweetheart, that was amazing. Thank you.” Steve said as he pulled you to sit on his lap. You smile and cup his cheek before kissing him and quickly deepening it.

When you pull back Steve has a dazed look in his eye.

“You had a bit of frosting on your lip.” You say with a smirk.

“Well shit, I’m gonna go get frosting.”

You and Bucky laugh at Sam before turning to watch the fireworks.

****

It was around 4:00 in the morning when Steve first stirred. He’d held you close all night so when he unconsciously moved his arm to bring you in he only found an empty space. Steve’s first sleepy thought was that you moved to snuggle against Sam or Bucky but there was an incredibly sweet and overpowering scent permeating through the room. A deep guttural growl bubbles in his chest as he sat up. The blankets were also missing from the bed.

“Sam, Buck, wake up.” He practically commanded.

They didn’t need to be told twice and were still half asleep as they looked over at their mate. The same sweet scent that Steve found hit them too and they knew they had to act quick.

They could hear you in one of the spare bedrooms. If the scent was strong in your shared room it was intoxicating from the source. Steve knocked gently so as to not startle you. He only heard a whine in response.

“Hey sweetheart.” His voice was soft as velvet. “Are you ok?”

You looked up at him from the corner of the room you had set yourself up in. There were pillows and blankets but it needed more. It needed their scents. You shook your head in response.

“What do you need? We’ll get you whatever you want.”

“I don’t know what to do.” You whimper. It was overwhelming, the heat, the need that kept growing between your legs and the slick that you had already tried to wipe away but kept pouring out. “Is something wrong with me?”

“Sunshine no,” Sam said quickly. “It’s your heat.”

Ch 11

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[forgeofthenine]

SO! I found this super sweet and amazing song! Home to me from Moss. Its lyrics reminds me of the Shadowlands and it got my brain rot thinking, what if the partner of Dammon or Zevlor finds them after getting separated while in that veritable hellscape? They reunite and everything is hunky dory (almost)! The partner sees that they are struggling and sings this song to comfort them after everything that has happened. (here is the link so you don't have to go digging into Youtube!) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zXg6QC3ZQAk

Thanks for the request Anon, I really loved listening to the song and it absolutely gives major Shadowlands vibes. I ended up picking Dammon because my brain kind of clutched onto a specific vision I guess? Either way, I hope you enjoy, I loved writing a bit of comfort for my favourite Tiefling blacksmith :)

The fic isn't too heavy on the angst, reader is gender neutral but is not Tav and is a tiefling.

Home to me

All that runs through your head is thoughts of Dammon. Even knowing he must be beside himself with worry, the mere thought of him is comforting.

You find yourself pressed tight against Lakrissa, the other tieflings arms holding you as firmly as she can, your own tail wrapped tight around her ankle. The echoes of your captors footsteps and the dripping of water turn monotonous as the days pass by. It's too hard to keep track, and soon your group stops trying.

The small group of you fall into a steady silence, all finding companions to clutch and memories to cling to, the only relief you can find in your captivity.

After an eternity, all of you are startled back to reality as a familiar hero comes to stand on the other side of the metal bars, a grin on their face as they find almost everyone alive and merely trapped.

Stepping over the guards dead bodies, trekking through underground tunnels, sailing over a murky black lake with wild shadows lurking at the edges, your journey back to safety is almost as treacherous as the same one leading to your unwanted stay in Moonrise towers.

It's only once you all step foot on solid, safe ground that everyone is able to let out a sigh of relief.

Tearful reunions are all around you, Lakrissa and Alfira wrapped as close around each other as they could, Rolan attempting to hold both his siblings despite the way his body shakes with relief. Once again, the only thing on your mind is a certain blacksmith.

It hardly takes any time to find his new open air forge, well away from the dock you first arrived on. It almost feels like you're in a dream, seeing the expanse of his back as he works at his anvil.

You don't mean to sneak up on him, the ringing of his hammer hiding the sound of your steps crunching in the gravel. The sound of your voice calling to him is what makes him pause, hands letting go of everything he holds when he turns to see you. Whatever he's working on clatters to the floor as he sweeps you up and off your feet entirely, just holding you not enough for him.

You can feel the wet tears pooling and running down the skin of your neck, Dammons face nestled between your jaw and shoulder. It's hard to stop your own tears from falling, hands desperately grabbing for a hold on him.

It takes hours for you to calm Dammon, his hand or tail never leaving your skin for fear you might slip from his grasp again. Even after days you can still see how the worry creases his face, how his eyes linger on you when he thinks you don't notice. As the others settle back into their new normal, and plan for the best way to bring death to Ketheric Thorm, you notice how Dammon seems to stay stuck.

Night falls again, and with it you fear Dammon will find another sleepless night. It's clear he can't keep living like this. Your hands pull him down to rest against your chest, trying to calm him with the soft rumble of a purr building in your chest. Tails intertwine as you refocus his attention on you now, safe and happy in his bed.

Calloused fingers trail patterns over your skin as the silence breaks, a soft melody leaving your lips. "Darkness falls across land, sky, and sea. I can hear your call, calling back to me..."

Only once you sing for him, holding him so desperately close to you, do you see his eyes fall closed and feel his breathing even out against your chest.

[444takeomi]

BOYFRIEND HCS pt 3

: ̗̀➛ summary: takeomi as your boyfriend

character(s): takeomi akashi

warnings: female reader, sfw but still suggestive, mentions of smoking, ooc (i know he's a piece of shit but let me live in denial)

wc: 0.8k

a/n: literally everyone hates him so this post will definitely flop💀 apologies for being so inactive, i’ve been super busy these past few weeks — i wanted to write something for shin's birthday but i just didn't have the time😭

- i feel like omi is the kind of boyfriend who acts like he doesn't care but is secretly very soft for you

- he won't admit it but he has a hard time expressing his feelings — you fell for him first but he fell way harder, and he wishes he could tell you how much you mean to him </3

- he's the type to tell you that he loves you when he thinks you're asleep, and if he's sure that you're out cold he'll gently kiss your forehead as well

- the first time you told him you loved him he cried </3

- i think that omi is secretly a very insecure person, and deep down he feels like he's undeserving of love and thinks you're too good for him

- gets self conscious about his scar sometimes — he loves when you randomly kiss it and tell him that he's handsome, it makes him feel all warm inside <3

- for dates he usually takes you out to expensive restaurants, but sometimes you'll do something more casual like going to art galleries or museums or going shopping together

- every time you walk through crowds he puts his hand on your waist or lower back

- whenever you go on a date he always insists on paying for everything, he loves to spoil you <3

- omi’s love language is definitely gift giving, and he’s often buying you expensive presents — whether that's perfume, jewellery, or whatever it is that you're into

- he always seems to know exactly what to get you, you don't notice it but he pays very close attention to you while you're shopping together and takes note of what you like

- omi is surprisingly a huge gentleman — he always opens your car door for you, carries your bags, offers his coat to you when it's cold, etc

- whenever you have an argument he buys your favourite flowers as an apology </3

- sometimes he has trouble sleeping, but if you run your fingers through his hair he'll be out like a light

- he randomly wakes up in the night and starts coughing up a lung💀 if you're not a heavy sleeper then good luck

- it's no secret that he smokes way too much, please encourage him to quit or at least cut down — he won't listen to anyone but you

- if you don't smoke yourself then omi will always make an effort to put out his cigarettes whenever you're around, or at the very least blow the smoke away from your direction

- you're the only one who he will let poke fun at him because of his habit, you sometimes joke that you won't kiss him anymore if he carries on smoking because of his stale cigarette breath, and he just rolls his eyes at you and fights back a smile

- he would rather die than admit it but he still gets butterflies when you tease him </3

- he's got such a loud sneeze and it always scares the shit out of you, it's a whole jumpscare💀

- i feel like he has very stiff shoulders, sometimes he asks you to massage them for him — the only problem is he can't control the groans and praises that fall past his lips, and if anyone were to overhear him they would definitely think that something else was going on💀

- “fuck, that's it, baby… feels so fuckin’ good…”

- anyways😶

- sometimes you do skincare together, and omi would be lying if he said he understood any of it — he gets so confused when you put cucumber slices on his eyes or use a jade roller on him

- he does love the feeling of you applying different products to his face though, you're always so gentle with him <3

- omi loves to take bubble baths with you and just hold you in his arms, sometimes he goes all out with candles and rose petals, it's very romantic

- it rarely leads to anything more, sometimes he just needs to hold your body against his </3

- he's actually super protective over you, whenever you're out in public together and he notices someone else looking you up and down he gets all possessive, instinctively putting his arm around you and glaring at them

- there have been times where he's gotten into fights because someone wouldn't leave you alone at a bar, but that usually only happens when he's drunk

- speaking of which, drunk omi gets very emotional most of the time and will whisper slurred professions of his love in your ear, telling you how he doesn’t know what he did to deserve you and how lucky he is to have you </3

- he’s not always the best at showing it but omi loves you so so much, he truly thinks you're one of the best things to happen to him and he can't believe he actually gets to call you his <3

please do not translate, repost, or share my writing on any other platforms eg. tiktok

[doubleddenden]

The new trailer was interesting. It did the thing I didn't really want it to do by spoiling story related stuff and not reveal the actual new Pokémon we're missing, but for what it's worth it seems like the story will be pretty content heavy. Let's look at some screens I took and speculate on some stuff: and a friendly reminder that nothing I say here has any bearing on leaks that are possibly out there, so if I guess anything in the future, it was just a guess:

This crystal tree is pretty suspicious. Like first of all, this appears even DEEPER into Area Zero than we've been before, assuming. Did something or someone plant it here? Is it the remains of an underground world? Could it possibly be related to a legendary? Not to mention the FULL crystallization of the tree, vs the partial crystallization of the trees up top. It's definitely not safe to be here for long.

Next, Z move pose! BBA is off the coast of Unova, but there's a lot of Alola rep here. I wonder if they're doing this because Bank will shut down soon and this will be where they want us to get Alola forms for the next 5 ish years before they discontinue Switch online services?

Next, this is Crispin and what appears to be proof the BBE4 won't be restricted to singular types. My friend pointed out that this could possibly be a sun team with Exeggcutor there. Wonder why they opted for Kanto when Alolan is there? (I mean besides Kanto being why).

Next, the reveal of, WHOA WHODA THUNK, Champion? Corrupted Kieran anyway. I made a post a few months back when they showed off this guy from the neck down and made the prediction he'd be champion- that's not entirely confirmed just yet, but it does seem to be pointing in that direction. It's not really that much of a W because GF can be very predictable with their writing.

Anyway he looks heavily corrupted- YEAH LETS GO VILLAIN ARC!!!! His hair is fully purple now- honestly I'd have preferred it with black like before, but it's probably symbolic of his corruption. My friend even pointed out his hair kinda looks like the Toxic Chains the Loyal Three have- theory time, whatever gave them the chain is also corrupting Kieran because look at him. No light left in those eyes. Just rage. Fun :D

Next we have this- I assume it's Penny or Mela tbh, because I saw from a ways back where it seems like Team Star's Giacomo has reintegrated into Naranja/Uva Academy. Maybe Penny has stopped dying her hair and grew it out or Mela is being super proper now or something. Could also be a completely unrelated character.

Lastly for major story stuff, this is cool poster material. Kieran's rage or possibly fear of Terapagos, Carmine's worry for her brother, Briar... I mean come on, she's a villain in waiting, look at her face. Idk if I'm too quick to claim Terapagos is evil though, because the anime has firmly planted him in Just A Little Guy territory and I don't think they'd want to ruin that image considering they've been in charge of hyping him up since Horizons first started.

But yeah, the culmination of everything we've been through in one image. Kinda exciting.

Oh, and just some small tin foil hat pics

It's odd that they paired these trios together to me. Pokémon loves sprinkling breadcrumbs to tease at future projects, and these could pass for potential Legends starter trios.

But not for Unova.

Tepig and Snivy are the odd ones out here because it'd be kinda dumb to re use Unova starters for a Legends Unova game- now for Johto? Squirtle, Treeko, and Tepig COULD work, but Squirtle is also pretty close to home.

If I'm being real, this is probably nothing and just meant to highlight the starters across different generations coming home, with Tepig and Snivy being stand outs because this will be their first time being available on the Switch. Ever.

Other notable things I didn't screenshot:

BQs: basically side quests.

Synchronization? I guess? We can actually control a Pokémon. Conspiracy brain wants to say this is alluding to something, but I'm unsure. It's at least kind of neat because this has been a topic of various NPCs in the series for years. Those were probably just alluding to Mystery Dungeon games, but when Game Freak does something like this in DLC, it could hint at a future mechanic or possibly a feature in a future game.

Legendaries returning: I'm gonna be real, I'm not really all that excited by the prospect of yet another Legendary Bargain Sale that they've been doing since ORAS at this point. ORAS, USUM, Crown Tundra, and now Indigo Disk. At this point the legendaries are more common and accessible than some common pokemon like Furfrou or the elemental monkeys.

What's interesting to note are a couple of things:

1. DLC pokemon from SwSh are here too, including Kubfu. That's interesting, I wonder how it will evolve considering we needed the two towers in IoA last time? An NPC from the dojo?

2. Boi if you thought I wasn't gonna talk about the Unovan dragons- they didn't HAVE to single them out like that! They didn't have to. They did, though. I'm pretty sure we all know their next projects.

You may be saying "but it's too fast!" And I agree. They need to stop rushing things and take their time, but we all know they won't. All we can do is hope they actually try this time.

Anyways that was the last trailer for Indigo Disk. Maybe it's my severe depression talking, but I'm actually excited for Indigo Disk. It looks very content heavy and a bit prettier to look at than before. I hope it runs okay- I mean it won't, but I still hope it. I also hope this isn't as quick as Teal Mask was.

1 week lefts, bois

[chryblossomjjk]

bts fic recommendations | 01.25.23

→ hi friends! this is a little segment i do every tuesday (reviewsday get it, aren’t i funny, pls tell me how funny i am) where i read and review two-three fics. as a content creator, i know how big of a role other creators play in your growth, therefore, i want to do my part in making sure everyone gets the recognition they deserve! so with that being said, please check out the amazing fics listed below. make sure to like, reblog, and leave feedback! ♡ #reviewsday #kikirecs

scent of eager suds - @rkivian (knj x reader | smut, angst, pwp, fluff)

summary: you missed each other, too fucking much. but your head had stayed down in futile hopes of remaining stubborn, forgetting that there is a wedding ring on that tricksy little finger of his for a reason.

so..... genuinely convinced you are the reincarnate of shakespeare babe bc like:

"He would spend a considerably scant amount of time on such a task, yet fulfil it so thoroughly that the constant aching between your legs seemed more equitable than you would like it to be."

LOOK WHAT YOU DO WITH WORDS!!! like everything is so precise. i can tell there's so much thought put into every single word of this piece and woah.. the writing is fucking stellar, seriously. like just the words you use throughout this displays how the reader feels about being vulnerable with joonie: cruel, vengeful, venomous. u put pwp but like you characterized the fuck out of this reader and it's so good...

also... this is thee kim namjoon. like as someone who is v much similar to the reader and self sabotages relationships, ppl who love you enough to recognize that trait and do their best to prove u wrong

AND YOU DID THAT ALL THROUGHOUT THE FLITHIEST NASTIEST SEXIEST SMUT EVER PLS HE'S SO HOT LIKE HE TRULY JUST WANTS TO MAKE HER FEEL GOOD INSIDE AND OUT AND IM GATEKEEPING HIM!!!! this was so so so beautiful and thank you for sharing with plebeians like me :') &lt;3

the one where jin is drunk off his face and you get friend-zoned - @indgio (ksj x reader | fluff, crack)

saf everything you write just comforts my soul. it's missing jin hours around these parts and this is exactly want i needed. i don't know how to explain it but this gives me run episode vibes? like... this is legit kim seokjin. I COULD TOTALLY PICTURE HIM DOING SOME SHIT LIKE THIS LMAO WHAT A SWEET BABY!

also love this oc fr. like from the opening paragraph i could already tell she's the most adorable, most precious being, and you proved it throughout the rest :') <3 taking care of ur drunk partner trope will never not get me and you did it so splendidly ugh will definitely be coming back to this when im sad and 3am and missing my seokjin :'( thanks for this ily <3

"tell me more about this girlfriend of yours."

but jin looks at you with a frown, as he downs the water. "no. get your own."

^also for whatever reason this took me tf out lmao

the one where jungkook will always protect you, even from the fictional - @indgio (jjk x reader | fluff, humor)

bby istg your writing is so... refreshing? like i always think i need these super crazy, convoluted, heavy plots for my fics to be good, but your writing is proof that doesn't have to be the case. your writing is so effortless, yet so beautiful. like once again, genuine comfort content that i don't see too much of anymore. going through your masterlist has really inspired me to take a new avenue, because your fics are just so fucking addicting. i just love the slice of life vibes so much uGh okay enough nutting over u and onto the fic sehfbjsehbdhwb

pov ur saf in my brain BC THE AMOUNT OF TIMES IVE DAYDREAMED ABOUT THIS EXACT SCENARIO IS MENTAL ILLNESS (was just picturing binge watching AOT w him :'))

this jungkook is such a golden retriever ass boyfriend my heart can't take it. the banter ?? the protectiveness ?? THE BITING THE EAR ??? naur im in love it's settled. adding him to the list of fav jungkook portrayals on tumby. will be thinking about him when im bored in the back of my lecture tomorrow. thank you for daydream fuel &lt;3

stfu yes it's wednesday get off my back >:'( i posted this early last week and was just trying to even the timing out that's all... im lying. anyways, love u lmao

[writingquestionsanswered]

Any tips for writing dialogue that feels real? A lot of the stuff I’ve been trying to write feels clunky and forced.

Why Your Dialogue Feels Inauthentic and Clunky

1 - You Haven't Developed Your Character Voices

Character voice is the way your character's personality comes out in the things they think and say. It's how little or often they speak, whether they're concise or wordy, it's the slang and types of words they use, it's speech quirks like saying "um" or "uh" a lot, it's bad habits like interrupting people, the facial expressions and hand gestures/body language they use when they speak, how things like attitude/knowledge/beliefs affect what they say, and even things like tone of voice and accent. Having a good handle on who your characters are and how that affects what they say when they talk is the first crucial step in writing smooth, authentic dialogue.

2 - You've Got Too Much Dialogue or Not Enough

Good stories are a balance between exposition (explaining), action (things happening), and dialogue (conversation.) That doesn't mean it has to be an even three-way split, but you generally wouldn't want to have a 50/30/20 split, for example. When your dialogue gets lost in the exposition and action, it stands out like a sore thumb when it does occur, and all that attention and pressure on these occasional conversation can make them feel naturally awkward. And when your dialogue overwhelms the exposition and action, there's just so much of it, the awkwardness comes from the sense that these characters never shut-up. So, try to have a reasonable balance of dialogue to action and exposition in every scene, chapter, and the overall story to whatever degree is possible. Again, that doesn't mean you can't have an occasional scene or chapter that's light or heavy on dialogue--as long as it's reasonably balanced overall, it's fine.

3 - Your Characters Are Too Long-Winded

Good dialogue is direct... every line plays a role in furthering the purpose of the conversation, promoting character development, or adding to the reader's understanding of the situation or setting. There are no throwaway lines and no unnecessary soliloquies. Everything is communicated in the fewest words possible--within reason. Your characters don't need to sound like they're speaking in code. They just don't need to spend two paragraphs to communicate that it's snowing.

4 - You're Trying Too Hard to Be "Realistic"

When writing dialogue, it can be tempting to render it out the way we hear it and speak it in real life. So we're tempted to add a lot of pauses, trailing off moments, interruptions, interjections (things like um/ah/hmm/huh/gah/what?!/OMG!) And, perhaps worst of all, over using strange spellings and dropped letters to render accents and speech disability (see: Writing Character Slang and Accents.) While you can do these things sparingly/thoughtfully, you have to be careful about overdoing it in the name of realism, because too much of this stuff actually does the opposite and makes your dialogue feel unauthentic.

5 - You've Got a Couple of "Talking Heads"

When dialogue is just a back and forth of lines, it comes across like a couple of floating heads having a conversation in an empty room. It doesn't feel realistic because in real life, we move our faces and bodies, interact with the environment and people around us, and we're aware of the sensory details of our surroundings. So, make sure to include all of that in your dialogue scenes, too.

AND THE #1 REASON - You're Repeating Dialogue Tags

One of the biggest reasons dialogue ends up sounding clunky and inauthentic is it's over-tagged...

"What time is it?" Jeff asked. "It's eleven," Sarah said.

Pam frowned. "Already?"

"Yep, we're super late," Sarah replied. "We should go."

Jeff laughed and said, "Yeah, we probably should"

It's clunky, it's awkward, it doesn't feel real... See my post Avoiding Repetition with Dialogue Tags for help in cutting back.

I hope that helps!

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I've been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I've learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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