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#I don’t know what happens in offices. what do I look like. I don’t think he does either really. he just likes the aesthetic
verstappen-cult · 2 days
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Mad Max (angry kind of frustrated max verstappen) like barging through the paddock mad - when he sees her (reader) his anger falls and he gets teary and turns into clingy breakdown maxie
… just a cutesy idea i had
thx byeee💗💗
Max is having an awful weekend. The car is shit, and everyone is asking him why he didn’t participate in the run for Senna that Seb organized, and he is just so tired of repeating the same thing over and over again because, apparently, everyone wants to hate on him this weekend.
He just finished with an interview, very abruptly after the reporter acted unprofessional. He really doesn’t care that everyone is going to be talking about that for the rest of the weekend too.
“Max,” His PR officer says, touching his shoulder to make him stop walking. “the reporter wants to talk.”
Max scoffs, rolling his eyes. “About what? If he isn’t going to apologize, then I don’t have anything to say.” He walks away when from the corner of his eye sees a few reporters and cameras pointing his way. Max knows that he should apologize to her later, for leaving like that, but now he just wants to get the fuck out of the paddock and hope for the best for qualifying tomorrow.
He’s walking fast, very fast, avoiding eye contact and every fan that tries to make their way towards him. He doesn’t care about being disrespectful now, they need to respect him and his time too.
But then someone is grabbing him by his arm and he just can’t take it anymore. Max turns around, only to find his favorite person looking at him with a worried expression on her face.
“Maxie?” You ask, leaning a little closer and cupping his cheek. “Gemma told me what happened, you want to talk about it?”
And suddenly he is at a loss of words, the urge to cry making it hard to think straight.
Max can only shake his head, eyes filling with tears in just a couple of seconds. And, knowing him like the palm of your hand, you see right through him.
“You want to leave? Back to the hotel?”
Max nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I just need,” He bites his lower lip, noticing a few people around that can’t stop looking at you two. “to grab a few things from my drivers room.”
You hold his hand, squeezing slightly. “We can ask Gemma to do that.”
Max feels relieved because he really doesn’t have the strength to stay a second longer in this place.
The car is already waiting for you when you walk out of the paddock. You let Max get in first before climbing inside and sitting by his side.
No one says anything for the first half of the way, but then Max is turning around and looking at you with a pout on his lips. And you can only open your arms.
Max rests his head on your lap for the rest of the way, your fingers massaging his scalp as you patiently wait for him to start talking.
“I’m having a bad weekend.” He says after what feels like hours. “I don’t want to think. I just want to sleep.”
“You can sleep, baby. I’ll wake you up when we get there.” You lean down to place a kiss on the top of his head. “You need to rest.”
Max sniffs, “Would you hold me? Please?”
“I’m never letting you go.”
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miley1442111 · 19 hours
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who did this to you?-a.hotchner
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a/n: i got nothin.
summary: aaron gets quite the surprise after a mission
pairing: aaron hotchner x reader
warnings: general criminal minds topics, reader is hurt, talk of death and hospitals, happy ending
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Everything was so loud. Everyone was in Aaron’s ear but he tuned them out, too busy looking for you to notice the congratulations from the fellow officers and FBI agents alike. 
Where did you go? 
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You stood in the ladies bathroom, the pain finally catching up with you as the tears started pouring. You’d go to the hospital once you got back to Quantico. You knew you had multiple broken ribs, every breath becoming more and more difficult to take. You knew everyone would question your broken and bleeding nose. You knew Aaron would look at you with that same disappointed look he seemingly exclusively gives you. You wanted to sob every time he looked at you like that. Like you were a waste of his time and efforts, a waste of resources, a waste of space. 
You whimpered as you tried to stop the bleeding in your nose, the pain making yur entire body feel boiling hot. 
Knock knock. 
Fuck. 
“Yeah?” you coughed out.
You heard a sigh of relief. “You’re alright,” Aaron stated, his previous anxiety falling away. “Are you ready to go home?”
“Y-yeah,” you moved to open the door, but you’d moved too abruptly and it caused a sharp, excruciating pain to shoot through your entire chest, rendering you breathless, and helpless against the uncontrollable whine that left your mouth. Aaron’s body tensed and he tried the door handle, locked.  
“Y/n? Open the door,” he demanded, panic running through his voice. “Right now.”
“N-no,” you sobbed into your hands, every breath becoming more and more difficult.
“Y/n you have to open the door for me, I can’t help you if you don’t open this door, honey.”
“No! Just go away,” you called back. “I don’t want you to look at me like that,” you grumbled and he stilled the fiddling with the door handle he was doing.
“Like what honey?”
“Like you think I’m a waste of your time and space. Like you know how awful of a person I am.”
Aaron’s heart broke. He had been trying to resist his feelings for you for weeks, so he’d become distant. He never thought he’d been this mean. 
“I don’t think that Y/n,” he said softly. “Now, please open this door so I can help you.”
He heard the lock unlock and that was all he needed. He pushed the door open and there you were. Broken, bleeding nose, holding your side in agony as you sobbed. He pulled you into his arms tentatively, careful of your pains, but he looked at you with all the care in the world. 
“Who did this to you?” He asked. 
“Aaron... you did,” you sniffled. Aaron thought back to the confrontation with the unsub. He had to shoot you. You were wearing a vest, but you fell backwards, back and down about three feet. The realisation dawned on him and horror filled his features. 
“I am so sorry,” he whispered into your hair as you cried into his chest. He pressed soft kisses to your head to try and calm you down. “Where does it hurt?” He asked.
“My ribs. Some of them are broken- I think. And m-my nose.” 
His heart squeezed again. He had hurt you. He had caused this to happen. 
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered against your hair, emotions overcoming him. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“It’s alright,” you whispered. 
“No it’s not. I hurt you.” 
“You did-it was- it’s alright,’ you stuttered, trying to make this easier for him. “I- Can we go outside to the paramedics?” You asked. “I can’t breathe.”
He nodded furiously and slung one of your arms over his shoulders and practically carried you to the ambulance. 
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As you got checked out they decided you probably had a concussion as well, and that they wanted to keep you in the hospital overnight. 
“Can I come with you?” He asked sheepishly as you were getting strapped into the gurney. 
“Sure,” you shrugged, exhaustion and pain clouding everything. You just wanted to sleep. You just wanted everything to go away. 
Aaron sat with you in the ambulance, holding your hand. He was there when you flatlined too, apparently one of your broken ribs pierced a lung. 
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The heart monitor was flat as the paramedic beside him sprung into action, shouting at the driver to speed up. You were hooked up to machines and you were gone. For a whole 4 minutes. You were gone. 
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Aaron sat by your bedside with your hand in his as he prayed to a god he didn’t even believe in. As he asked for you to live. As he asked for you to live, and not hate him. 
He watched as your hands twitched and pressed the call button. They removed the breathing tube. You were alive. 
You were alive. 
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“I’m so sorry,” he sighed. “I never thought… I didn’t think it would hurt you that badly. I didn’t think you’d fall back. I’m so sorry.”
You shook your head in an attempt to make him stop apologising. 
“I love you,” he confessed. “I-I’m in love with you. A-and I thought it would be better to just… ignore it, and in turn, ignore you. I’m never disappointed in you. I think you’re amazing. Knowing that I’ll see you makes getting up every morning and going into that god-for-saken building worth it. Knowing that you’ll be there, it makes my life so much better. I’m so sorry that I ever made you feel like I didn’t like you, or that I didn’t value you. I do. I love you.”
You were wide-eyed and confused. You grabbed your phone to write out what you had to say, since you couldn’t talk. 
What the fuck?
Aaron laughed. “I love you.”
Aaron, you seriously did this when I can’t fucking talk and can barely move? 
He laughed harder and shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a fan of dramatics.”
You rolled your eyes but smiled all the same. 
Come here. 
You patted the bed beside you and he shook his head. 
“You need to rest-”
“Aaron!” Your voice sounded groggy and painful. 
He lay beside you, his arms perched carefully around you as you both fell back to sleep.
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criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)
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Deprived
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader
Word count: ~2.6k
Summary: Top embarrassing moments at work with the Maximoffs
A/N: This seemed like the most humorous way to introduce sexting.
Warnings: fluff, sexting, toys, and sibling embarrassment
You can’t help but laugh at Pietro as you finish the last dregs of your drink with a sigh. You and your family had just finished a weekly dinner at your house, and it’s getting late. You aren’t sure who started the current conversation, but given how embarrassed Pietro is, for once, you don’t think that he is the one causing trouble.
You listen to him deny that he’d done anything compromising in his office at the compound, but the more he protests, the less you believe him. Stealing a glance at Wanda, you see how dubious she appears as well and realize that you’re right to doubt Pietro.
Wanda mutters something under her breath that Pietro hears and unsurprisingly disagrees with. You just decide to wait and see where this goes because you honestly can’t think of something more embarrassing that Wanda may have experienced at work.
“Yeah, right! You’ve definitely done worse than that, Wanda.”
“Actually no, I haven’t.”
There’s a beat of silence as the twins glare at each other, but then you hear someone clear their throat and you turn to the other side of the deck with a frown. You see Steve shooting the Maximoff twins a sheepish look, no just Wanda, before he takes a sip of the whiskey you’d just finished.
“Actually, I can think of something.”
Wanda was beyond frustrated at how the day had gone for her. It was nearly 9pm and she had been out and busy with meetings since she was forced to leave you in bed at 7am. She swore that if she wasn’t so used to micromanaging things, she would give the reins to her brother to take care of the aftermath of today. She didn’t want to think about the fallout right now, nor how she had a nearly 2 hour car ride until she was home. You would likely be asleep by then which just put her in a worse mood. 
She hated to leave you, especially after she promised that she’d spend time with you. She hadn’t promised the whole day because that wasn’t something she could do very often, even if it was Saturday. However, she had promised you breakfast in bed, but that had turned into 30 seconds of coffee in bed when Steve had called with the bad news. 
So Wanda left you to deal with the most recent work crisis, and you spent most of the day alone and slightly miffed. You didn’t waste the day away; however, and you spent the morning hiking with your dog before baking and watching cooking shows all afternoon. You made a cheesecake, a pie, and brownies before you realized that you should make something for dinner. You probably should eat a vegetable. 
This led to you making one of your favorite meals, and you ate your shrimp stir fry on the couch in front of the TV with Boone at your feet. By the time 8pm rolled around you decided to walk Boone one last time before showering and crawling in bed. You hadn’t heard from Wanda all day, but this wasn’t abnormal. You seldom heard from her when she worked, but for some reason, today it annoyed you. 
Sitting in bed slightly cold, and alone, you considered what could have happened this morning if your wife had stayed like you both had wanted. You smiled at the thought of how your other lazy mornings have gone, and you sigh in defeat before switching off the light and lying down with a frown. You roll onto your side before looking to your phone on the bedside table. You hesitate before grabbing it and unlocking it to see your text thread with Wanda. 
You wonder if she’s still working. How long until she comes home? You never really know the answer to this, but despite how this morning went, it seems that you’re in luck tonight. Your phone buzzes in your hand, and you see that Wanda’s texted. 
-I’ll be home in a little over an hour. -
You smile at this before you lie flat on your back stare at the ceiling. You sigh heavily before shifting under the covers mindlessly. You almost fall asleep, but your thoughts have drifted to something that makes you throw the covers off of you. You’re overheating and you slip your hands under your shirt to remove it before rolling back onto your stomach with a sigh. 
You’re near sleep again when you remember that you didn’t respond to your wife’s text. You see that it was nearly 40 minutes ago and you curse before you type out a quick response. 
You stop short of sending your ‘see you soon’ message, and you stare at it for a few seconds before smiling widely. You decide to take advantage of the line of communication that you’ve been granted. You just hope that Wanda’s not working on the way home because if so, it’s likely your message will go ignored. 
Wanda’s staring out the window frowning deeply at nothing in particular. It was too dark to see much more than the silhouette of trees they pass every once in a while. She’d concluded that you must be asleep since you hadn’t answered her text, which was disappointing, but understandable. She’d almost convinced herself to try and get some work out of the way when her phone vibrates in her hand close to an hour after she’d texted you. 
-Can’t wait. I might get started without you.-
Wanda frowns in confusion as she reads your message again, then once more before she decides that maybe she woke you up from a nap. She texts back a question that you take barely any time to respond to. She has to take a deep breath before she shifts in her seat and thinks about how to respond to you. 
-What are you starting on without me? -
-I’ll give you a hint. No clothes are involved. -
Wanda types out a reply slowly as she looks up to see that Steve is still focusing on the road. He has to be relieved that all of the day’s meetings are over too. She knows that she’s not always the most pleasant person to be around, especially when stressed. 
Wanda taps send and waits to see how you respond.
You’re rolling onto your back with a groan as you try to push your shorts off with the least amount of effort possible. You sigh in relief and throw them toward the end of the bed with your shirt before you shake yourself out like a dog. You smile, already feeling better now that you’re not so hot, and reach for your phone. 
You figure that Wanda is going to play coy, or maybe even tease you. Instead, her response makes you stiffen and kicks your heart rate up a bit. 
-You better not be doing what I think you are. – 
You can’t help the giddy noise that leaves you at your wife’s not-so-subtle threat. You consider how you’d like to play this, but it doesn’t take much thought at all. You’ve always loved to push Wanda’s buttons, and knowing how much she loves it too makes you all the more eager to tease. You type out a response before setting your phone beside you on the bed. You close your eyes and imagine what you’d do next if Wanda were by your side. 
-You better hurry home if you plan to stop me.-
You ignore the vibrating phone for a few minutes just to make Wanda tick. You run your finger through your hair, pushing it out of your eyes as your other hand slides up your leg. You stop to rest it against your stomach and you sigh heavily as your phone starts to ring. You smile and let your hand drop between your legs before you bother to answer.
Wanda’s typing furiously when she realizes that you’re ignoring her. She imagines you’re lying in bed naked and bored out of your mind. She knows how active of an imagination you have, and if you’ve already taken off your clothes from feeling overheated, well anything could happen. 
She’s doing her best to try and stop this when she realizes that her three texts are going unread. She glances at Steve again before she curses herself for not choosing the car that has a privacy divider. Today had been so busy that she hadn’t planned on needing one for the drive. She’s really regretting her choices right now. Still, she barely hesitates to call you. 
By the fourth ring, Wanda’s getting annoyed and you’re smiling so wide that your cheeks hurt. Still, you don’t say anything immediately when you slide the green button across your screen. You close your eyes after the call connects, and simply hum when Wanda speaks up. 
“Y/n?”
Your lack of response makes Wanda tense and she has to push down the urge to speak above a whisper. She is too aware of Steve’s presence, but she’s also not going to wait until she’s at home to talk to you. 
“Y/n, what are you doing?” 
You can tell by her tone, that your wife is irked and you have to stop yourself from laughing because you know that will just make it worse. 
“Hi Wands.” 
Wanda simply frowns at your avoidance of her question before she sits up straighter at the sound of something rustling in the background. She accidentally makes eye contact with Steve, but she quickly looks away before she tries to ask casually. 
“What are you up to, detka?” 
You think of all the ways that you can answer this question, but none of them feel appropriate. None of them are sufficient to describe how you shove your hand between your legs and touch yourself. For this reason, you decide to just let Wanda listen. 
You take a deep breath and set you phone down on your chest, and a shiver shoots through you at the contact. You shift to get more comfortable before you groan as you slide your fingers over your clit. 
“Fuck.” 
Your breathy curse has Wanda tightening her grip on her phone, and she grits her teeth to hold herself back. 
“Y/n…”
You ignore your wife and continue to work yourself up, and you barely hear her speak to Steve as she tries to keep your moans from drifting to the front seat. 
“Steve, can you turn on the radio, please?” 
Even the sound of a familiar rock song doesn’t completely drown you out, and Wanda wishes that she could see what you were doing. Better yet, she wishes she was with you so she could put a stop to this. Or rather take charge. 
“Y/n, if you don’t stop right now, you’re going to regret it.” 
You can’t help the breathy laugh that leaves you when Wanda says this. You can imagine the look on her face right now and you shudder at the thought. The only times you’ve dared to laugh in Wanda’s face at a time like this, she kept her word about making you regret it. The distance between you two makes you bold and your fingers pick up speed before you release a groan that’s loud enough for Steve to hear. 
“Really because I think I’ll regret it if I stop?” 
Wanda considers telling Steve to pull over so she can switch places with him. Well she’d drive them like a bat out of hell, but she’d keep you on the phone somehow. She’s not sure how that would work, and she cringes when she realizes that you’ve caught Steve’s attention. Why hadn’t she brought her headphones? 
Wanda makes sure that the volume is turned down as far as possible before she sighs heavily. She’s thinking about how she’s going to make you pay for this when she hears something she immediately recognizes as a drawer opening. Wanda stiffens further before she turns her head to try and muffle her voice as much as possible. 
“Don’t you dare, Y/n. I swear--.” 
Wanda’s cut off by the unmistakable sound of a vibrator, and she nearly bangs her head against the window in frustration. In her fury, she misses the way that Steve’s eyes widen and he turns up the radio as discreetly as possible. Wanda can hear your moans getting louder as you switch the settings, and she curses in frustration. 
“Steve, drive faster.” 
Surprisingly, Steve doesn’t argue and Wanda focuses on the revving of the engine instead of the sounds that are coming through the phone. Her face is flushed in arousal and annoyance, but she’s not sure which is stronger as she listens to you get closer to the edge. She knows she won’t make it home in time, but she at least feels comforted by the fact that she won’t have to wait too long to get her hands on you. 
“I’ll be home in half an hour.” 
Undoubtedly listening, Steve speeds up even further, and if she weren’t so embarrassed by the fact that he’s certainly heard you, she’d thank him. Instead, she scowls when you barely hum in acknowledgement before you come with moan that makes Wanda shudder violently. She curses and slams her phone on her leg before taking a deep breath. Her only comfort is that Steve is going close to 80 mph. 
Wanda hears you let out a loud sigh before you shift once again before something drops onto the dresser. Wanda’s biting her lip so hard that she draws blood, but she ignores it as she promptly hangs up on you. 
“I’ll be waiting, Wands.” 
No one says anything when Steve finishes telling an abbreviated version of what happened several months ago. He looks between you and Wanda, and he’s not sure who looks more embarrassed. You’re staring into your glass with your cheeks burning brighter than anything else in the room. At least that’s what it feels like. Wanda looks mortified and she opens her mouth a couple of times to make an excuse, but she honestly can’t.
Unsurprisingly, Pietro speaks up first and it only makes his sister scowl while you just blush so hard you feel lightheaded.
“Damn, sestra, didn’t think you had it in you.”
Before Wanda can argue or at the very least tell her brother to shut up, you shoot your wife a glare that does nothing to hide your embarrassment.
“You never said that Steve was listening!”
You can’t believe that this never came up, and that Wanda didn’t just hang up on you. Honestly, of all your friends, he’s the best-case scenario because he’s so discreet and loyal. God forbid Yelena had been in the car, she would have teased you mercilessly. That said, you’re sure that your wife would have just hung up on you if she’d been in the car.
Wanda sighs before she shakes her head and tries her best to force down her embarrassment. Everyone in the room has had sex before, it wasn’t a big deal.
“You just weren’t paying attention, Y/n.”
You scowl in response, mostly because you can’t argue with your wife, but you simply shake your head before sitting back against the couch with a huff. You glare at Pietro who opens his mouth to speak, but luckily, he takes the hint, and decides to reach for his drink instead. You sigh in defeat again before you reach out for your dog who’s come to sniff around for food.
“You know, I liked it better when we were talking about you, Piet.”
Masterlist
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Hi! I love your Nathan stuff and i always come back to read them whenever i’m in my nathan phase.
i was wondering if you’d be down to do #q and #3 for the kiss prompts with nathan. i was reading over them and i thought of a dumb scenario where he’s been trying to get a kiss all day but it’s just dumb little pecks every time. i just know he’d get so sassy about it.
if you don’t feel like it or don’t think it works with nathan then don’t worry about it! thank you!!
I'm guessing that q was meant to be 1. If it wasn't and I wrote it wrong....soz
Prompts: Small kisses littered across the other’s face; A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.
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It's no secret to the world that you and Nathan are a couple, but on the average day-to-day, you don't go out of your way to advertise that fact.
When you're busy, you're more focused on pushing the company forward, not pushing your relationship forward. Nathan does it, too, and on hectic days, you don't take offense. The two of you are busy, and for as much as you love one another, you don't always make your romantic relationship a priority.
Come to think of it, the two of you hardly ever make it a priority.
Friday morning is no different.
You're on a call. You're listening closely to the feedback from your Chief Marketing Officer—the feedback from your annual summit is less favorable than you'd like. Your user base is concerned about the increased reliance on AI, but you're not relying on it—you're developing it, leaning into it, into the ways that your users have been accessing it—otherwise why the fuck else would you have developed it?
You nearly miss the sound of the knock on your door, but you glance up, doing a double-take when you spot him lingering in your doorway. He raises his finger to his lips, and you know that he wants you to avoid mentioning that he's listening in or has joined you in the room. He does this sometimes—like an Undercover Boss situation without the cameras and shitty wigs and fake buck teeth. You nod and wave him further into your office, adding, "Go on, I'm listening," When the product manager on the other side of the call goes quiet.
Nathan creeps further into the office as your product officer goes on, planting his palms on your desk and leaning in. You hardly turn your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek before waving him away.
--
You catch sight of him again in the elevator, but you're distracted again, eyes and mind focused on your phone, on the email that you're answering. You lean over, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips before stepping off of the elevator at your floor.
--
It happens in a crowded hall. You hardly catch sight of him, but you know that it's him, somehow—in the way that the others go quiet and stuff, and the hush of their otherwise free conversation. You reach out as he reaches for you, catching hold of his hand and giving it a squeeze before you push onto your meeting.
--
It's been a normal day. So why is Nathan beating the shit out of his punching bag? You lean in the doorway of his home gym, watching him rain blows down on the bag in front of him. You eye the sweat gleaming on his biceps and forehead, the steady pounding of his gloved fists against the vinyl.
"...Let up, he's already dead," You finally tease.
Nathan's punches slow before he ultimately reaches out, slowing the bag. You're surprised by the heated look that he points toward you as he turns in your direction, taking slow, measured steps toward you.
"Did you eat already?" You ask—but he doesn't answer. You watch him plant on his hands on his hips, drawing in deep breaths to steady himself.
"Kiss me."
"...What?" You frown.
"Give me a kiss—a fucking real one this time."
"I gave you real ones—"
"A real goddamn kiss, not those stupid little pecks I got all day."
You roll your eyes, straightening up and beginning to turn away. "Alright. I'm going to go make my dinner. Come and find me when you've moved on from being so fucking dramatic—"
You aren't able to turn fully away from him before he grasps your hips, pushing you back against the door jamb. Your breath catches in your throat, and you hardly get the chance to get a good look at him before Nathan's lips are descending greedily against yours. Your eyelids flutter, but you let them close and settle as he presses his body flush against yours. You sigh quietly, allowing your arms to loop around his shoulders, fingers slipping through the beads of sweat that have gathered at his nape.
Nathan draws away just enough for you to draw your breath, his tongue teasing against the seam of your lips.
"I ask you for a kiss again," He murmurs, "That's what I fuckin' want. Understood?"
You smile, hardly holding back a giggle.
"You're the boss."
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@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; 
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messedupfan · 2 days
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Chapter 18
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Summary: Wanda has been seeing someone. Daisy reconnects with Reader. Jean and Anna have special plans.
A/n: Heeeyy, please don't hate me. Enjoy!
Masterlist | All Stories Taglist | All Chapters
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Wanda checks her watch nervously. She had arrived at the office thirty minutes early to mentally prepare for the appointment. She wasn't sure what she was going to discover in that room. All she knew was that the idea made her feel ill. Her mind jumps to all of the people she slept with and she begins to feel like an idiot. Her leg bounces nervously as she thinks about how she will be judged by the doctor. It won't happen in front of her but she's almost certain it will happen. 
“Wanda Maximoff?” Her head snaps up at her name being called. “I'm ready to see you now.” Wanda nods and rises as she collects her things. She was going to be fine. Agatha swears by therapy. She was going to be fine. This was the next step to getting better and getting on with her life. 
You are standing in the backyard of your former home. “You wanted to show me my own craft space?” You ask with arms crossed over your chest. 
“No, we wanted to show you our future craft space,” Jean says and Anna waves her arms around as she presents a stack of boxes where your tools and materials used to be laid out. 
“What's this? You know that I need the space when I get an order. I know it’s been a while but it’s not just for me. I’ve been able to help you guys with the money I make from this side job. It’s not some frivolous hobby,” you walk around the room. 
“Yes, well, it’s actually been a year – close to a year and I’m pretty sure we were your last customers,” Jean says. “Besides, since we’re going to have all of this time we thought would be occupied by a baby… We want to make it into a craft space.” 
You clamp your mouth shut as you look at the boxes. It wasn’t fair for them to throw that in your face but this scenario was eerily similar to the one you’d witnessed with Wanda’s basement and Vision. You couldn’t stoop as low as that man so you sighed and nodded. “Okay, can you give me time to find somewhere to store it all? I don’t have the space right now.” 
“Sure,” Jean says, “just please don’t take too long. I have a lot of idea’s and I’m excited. Well. We’re excited.” She pulls her wife close to her and the two share a kiss. You find their behavior to be odd but you don’t think about it too much. 
“Okay,” you drag out. “I should get going. I need to do some grocery shopping and make some phone calls to see who will be willing to store my things until I can find a better place.” You walk through the gate to get to your car as they allow you to go. You scroll through your contacts to see who you can trust with your tools and supplies. You pause for a moment when you see Daisy’s contact. You know that you didn’t love her the way she deserved but it still hurt to see her name. You decide to leave that task for when you’re home because you needed to focus. 
You walk around the store with this nagging feeling that you should contact Daisy for some reason. You didn’t understand it. In the time since she ended things with you, you haven’t wanted to contact her once. Maybe it was because things with Wanda have crashed and burned alive. You don’t know, but you had to fight it because it wouldn’t be fair for you to try and insert yourself in her life again. As you shop you recignize her friend and you can’t stop yourself from saying hi. Because you mistakenly feel as though that would be rude. “Hey, Jemma!” You greet with as smile. 
Her eyes go wide and she almost runs but instead turns around smiles back. “Y/n, it’s been a while. How have you been?” 
You take a deep breath as you mentally run through the chaotic months you’d been having. “I’ve been better,” you nod. “Yeah, um, how have you been?”
She makes a face and narrows her eyes at you, “Let’s not waste our time here. I’m not the person you want to know about. Am I?”
You’re surprised by the implication and you shake your head. “No, I’m genuinely curious about you. I wouldn’t ever put you in a position to update me about Daisy. She made it very clear that she wanted me out of her life.” 
Jemma’s eyes scan you and she nods. “I’ve been well. Daisy, however, not so much. I’m telling you this because she is going to reach out to you soon. As much as I don’t like you, you do deserve the warning.” 
Your eyebrows twitch and you frown slightly, that was not what you expected to hear. “Oh, I hope I can help her with whatever it is. I just… She’s not going to try and get back together right?”
Jemma bursts out laughing and you smile and nod as she makes a big show of her amusement. “I’ve forgotten how funny you are!” She points at you with a grin. “No! She doesn’t want you back!” 
“I’m sorry,” you say as you try not to roll your eyes at her reaction. It was unnecessary. “Just, let her know that she can contact me whenever she wants. I’ll see you around, Jemma. Or maybe I won’t.” You walk away and continue to shop for the week. You go home and put your groceries away and don’t think about Daisy the rest of the day.
Wanda sits in her office and goes over her budget proposal for the project she was assigned. The company has been trying to score her former in-law’s as a client for years. She knew Stark Industries was a big corporation when she married into the family. It’s what paid for this house. It’s what allowed her to not work for six months. It’s what has paid for her new land. But for some reason she still feels weird about using her relationship to the Starks to help this company land them as a client. It made her realize why they probably hired her in the first place even with the unexplained unemployment gap after being fired from her previous firm. She runs through the proposal a couple more times and hopes that this doesn’t create a rift with the people she was getting to build a healthier relationship with. 
When she feels confident about the proposal she sets it aside and starts to work on the digital blueprint of her dream home. It has gone from sketches to utilizing the program on her computer to draft together a more visual representation of what she wants her house to look like. She has lots of windows and an open floor plan. She knows where she wants a dining room and how she wants the kitchen to look like. The second floor has a den space and an office space and multiple bedrooms. Then she considers adding a third floor but thinks it might be too much. 
She starts to shuffle the rooms around and considers moving the office to the ground floor. Then she adds a basement. Then she takes it away. She plays around with the design until her stomach grumbles and she is reminded that she has to eat. She shut down her work and walks downstairs to make herself something to eat. As she sets out ingredients, she fantasizes about you standing in the kitchen helping her. She wonders if you'd wrap your arms around her and kiss her cheek as she chopped vegetables. She thinks about how easily she could melt against your body. She allows herself to think about moments she could have with you without making herself feel guilty about it. She's tired of feeling guilty for wanting a better life for herself. 
As she lays on the couch and watches a show that she has been binging lately she mindlessly traces the letters M, I, N, E, on her upper thigh. In her mind, it's a memory of you, but really it's only another fantasy. She doesn't know why she can't just give in. She doesn't know why she pushes you away. She knows she shouldn't have but she also knows that she probably would have hurt you. She takes a deep breath and sighs. 
She walks up to her bed as her mind prepares her for waking up early the next morning. The mental checklist of what she has to take care of tomorrow. What she should wear for her meeting with Tony. What she should make herself for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Should she go out? Should she anticipate Tony offering to take her to lunch? 
She thinks about the therapy sessions she has scheduled for the next several weeks. She thinks about wanting to hang out with her friends. Then as she closes her eyes, she thinks about you and a small smile lifts up her lips. 
You are getting ready to take your lunch break when your phone goes off in your pocket. Your heart leaps into your throat when Daisy’s image covers your screen. You answer and start walking away from the job site. “Hello?” You say into the phone. There is a loud drilling sound and someone starts banging a hammer on a wall. “Hold on, I can’t hear you. One second please.” You cross the street and keep walking until you find a quiet area. You sit down on a park bench. “Okay, I can hear you now. Um, hey,” you say as you remove your hardhat. “This is a surprise. How are you?”
“Is it a surprise? Jemma told me that she warned you I might contact you,” Daisy says. 
“Uh, she did say that but I wasn’t sure when to expect your call. So it is still a surprise,” you reply as you run your fingers through your hair. “She also warned me that you’re not doing too well. Is there something I can do for you?” Daisy goes quiet and you think that the call has dropped, you move the phone from your face to check but the sunlight makes it difficult to tell. “Hello?” 
“I’m here,” she sighs and you can tell that she is trying to hide that she is crying. You take a deep breath as you brace yourself for what she might tell you. Maybe Phil is terminally ill. Maybe her mom passed. Maybe this, maybe that. 
“I’m here for you,” you tell her. “No matter what, it’s okay. You can tell me.” 
“I,” her voice cracks and you wish that you could do something more than sit here on the phone with her. “What I need to talk to you about is better done in person,” she finally says through her sniffles. 
“Okay, um where do you want to meet?” You ask. “I don’t have Rachel this week so you could come over to my place because it's a lot more private than yours or if you don’t want privacy I can go to your place after work. Um or we can meet somewhere public. I’m willing to do whatever you need.” You softly offer her options. Your heart is pounding from the anticipation. What could be so bad that she had to see you in person?
“I’m okay with coming over to your place,” she replies. 
“Okay,” you state, “does seven-thirty work for you? I’ve been working twelve to thirteen hour shifts to pay those pesky hospital bills.” 
“Seven-thirty works,” she answers. “I’ll see you then.” 
“I’ll see you then,” you say as the call ends. You sit on that park bench a little bit longer as you fear what Daisy has to say. What could she possibly be holding on to? What has her in tears? What can’t she say over the phone? Your mind races as you eat your lunch. It continues to run as you get back to work and think about what Daisy needs help with.
Wanda laughs with Tony as they sit together in a nice restaurant. Her pitch went well and Tony said that he would consider hiring her for the project. Then he offered to take her to lunch to celebrate. Now the two were discussing highlights of Vision’s finest moments during past holidays. “Oh, remember that time he convinced your dad to let him cut the turkey and he nearly cut his finger off?” Wanda says. 
“How could I forget? I’m the one who pointed out that there couldn’t be that much blood on a turkey!” Tony laughs as he lifts his glass from the table and swirls it around. He shakes his head. “I have no clue how I’m related to that man.” 
“I don’t know either,” Wanda says. “You are way more fun to be around,” she compliments and they clink their glasses together as they cheers to that. 
“You know, Wanda,” Tony starts as he leans in closer. “Why are you wasting your talents working for a company like Nexus Developments? You are family,” he puts his hand on top of Wanda’s. “We could have helped you land a job with the company we usually use or hell, we could have made a branch for you.” 
Wanda taps Tony’s hand as she pulls away and slumps back into her seat. “I know that you would have. But I couldn’t ask that of you or your family. Vision would have made it about him some how and lately,” she shakes her head as she feels tears building up. She takes a deep breath. “Lately, whenever your brother doesn’t get his way, my kids pay a price. Hell, even when he does get his way, my kids still suffer.” 
Tony nods and takes a drink from his glass, he sighs as the aged scotch goes down smoothly. “I understand your position. Just know that if you ever need help, we are still here for you. Vision can go fuck himself,” he tells her. Wanda laughs a softly as she agrees with his statement. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to convince you into a Maximoff and Stark partnership once again. This one being a profitable business instead of an emotional headache.”
Wanda shrugs, “We’ll see. The future is quite unpredictable after all.” 
As you walk through the your apartment building you run through the possibilities of the impending conversation over and over in your mind. The scenarios don’t stop until you see Daisy pacing in front of your door. You check the time on your watch and fill with relief that you’re not late, she’s early. 
“Hey,” you say as you sort through your keys to find the one that will unlock the door. Daisy startles as you announce your presence. “Sorry, I didn't mean to,” you notice that she doesn't look too good and you just move to open the door. “Let's just,” you hold it open for her and she walks right past you. “Would you like anything to drink? Water maybe?”
Daisy shakes her head. “No, I don't know how long you'll want me in here after I tell you what I need to tell you.” 
You make a face, unsure what she could possibly say that would have you kicking her out of your home. “I have a feeling this is something we should sit for. Come on,” you sit down on the couch and wipe the sweat from your forehead.
“Are you sure you don’t want to shower first? You’ve been working hard all day and I know you how much you hate sitting in–” Daisy rambles on as she paces the living room and you have to cut her off. 
“Daisy, I hate waiting even more,” you tell her. “Come, sit,” you pat the space next to you on the sofa. 
Daisy stands still and frowns at you. “No you don’t. You are the most patient person I know.” 
You nod your head slowly, “I can be patient, that’s true. But I still hate waiting.” You admit to her. “I’ve been worried about you all day, Daisy. I don’t want to be pushy but I want to be able to help you. I can’t do that if you don’t stop stalling and tell me what’s wrong.” 
Daisy sits next to you and drops her face into her hands. You sit there and wait for her to collect her thoughts and say something. Anything that will explain her behavior. You bounce your leg as your body decides to show your impatience. The movement has Daisy moving her hands from her face through her hair. “The night we broke up I,” the area around her eyes are red and her nose is pink. She doesn't face you because she can't say this and have you look at her differently. She doesn't know where you stand on a topic like this because every conversation the two of you had on the matter was purely hypothetical. She wanted to keep this to herself because she didn't want you to change in her eyes. She likes you the way you are. “I found out that I had um, sorry this is difficult for me to say.” 
You hold your hand out to her, “Daisy, it's okay. Whatever it is,” you trail as she turns her head away from you. “Are you sick?”  You ask softly as her shoulders shake. 
She turns her head to stare in front of her as she shakes her head and wipes her tears. “No, I'm not sick. That's not the kind of results I had received,” she reaches for the box of tissues in the coffee table and blows her nose. “I found out that I was pregnant,” she finally says. 
You feel your heart stop beating and drop to your stomach. You grow nauseous at the news. “Oh,” you grab onto the arm of the couch as if you're going to faint. “I um,” you blink a couple of times. “Is it someone else's?” The words stumble out before you can process the implication. 
“I never cheated on you,” she states sharply and she looks at you this time. 
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… I mean, can you blame me for asking? You didn't tell me until today. You broke up with me instead of telling me. I can't think of why you would do that unless the baby wasn't mine or —” you stop talking as you look at her and clamp your mouth shut. Daisy avoids your eye contact as you recall her behavior that night. She didn't want to be a mother. She kept telling you that as she tried to leave. “Oh,” you react again. The tension in your body releases and you try to figure out how you can address this conversation respectfully. “You decided not to go through with the um the uh pregnancy? Is that what you're telling me?” You try to keep your tone even and your features neutral, trying to avoid showing any insensitive emotions out of respect. 
Daisy closes her eyes as she starts to sob. “I couldn't go through with it. I'm not ready.” She says through her tears. You nod your head because you don't know what to do or how to properly react. “It wasn't an easy decision, you know? I thought about it for a couple of weeks and I thought about telling you but I was so scared that you would be happy and I would have the baby to please you and I just —” 
“Daisy,” you call her name until she stops rambling and you enter her personal space, pulling her against your chest to let her know that you are there for her. “Daisy, I get it. It's okay. I’m not ready for another kid. Shh, shh, it's okay. It's your body, I would have never asked—” 
“I know you wouldn't have but I would have done it! For you!” She interrupts. “Because I know how much you love kids and you're a great parent. You're so great with Rachel and I know how much she wants siblings and I just couldn't. I couldn't be the one to give you that. But if I told you, I would have gone through with it and I would have been miserable,” she continues to ramble. You pull back and get her to look you in the eye. 
“Daisy, you're not listening,” you say calmly. “Breathe with me. Okay?” She nods with you and you count to four with your fingers as you inhale through your nose. Then you put down the four fingers as you hold. You lift them back up as you exhale. And you repeat the process with Daisy until she appears a little more relaxed. “Daisy, recently I've been asked by my ex-wife to have more kids with her and I told her no. I — this is going to sound horrible but — I wasn't ready to be Rachel's parent. I love her, she is my world. But it took me longer than anyone realizes to be comfortable being her parent. I wasn't ready and I know that a lot of parents will tell you that none of them were ready and that's,” you wave your hand to the side. “It's quite clear that they weren't and I don't think it should be that way.” You shake your head. “Daisy, I'm telling you right now that I'm not ready for another child. When you told me about the pregnancy right now I nearly threw up. You made the right decision. I'm not mad at you. I don't hate you for making this decision on your own. It's your choice, I'm just sorry that I didn't make you feel like you could come to me about this. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you.” Daisy closes her eyes and leans against your chest. 
Neither of you talk for a moment. Allowing yourselves to process and accept the truths that each has shared. You think about how that night might’ve gone differently. You wouldn’t have lived with Wanda for almost two weeks. You wouldn’t have gotten as close to Wanda as you have. You would have been having back-and-forth conversations with Daisy. You would have developed a stronger relationship. Maybe. It could have turned sour. She could have grown distant and resented you or herself for the decision. Who knows? That wasn’t what happened. So it doesn’t matter now. But you can’t help but think where you could have been now had things happened differently. 
“Did you deal with this alone?” You eventually ask her. Daisy shakes her head against your chest. You’re surprised she is still resting against you because normally she couldn’t stand the smell of your sweat and the other odors that come from manual labor when the two of you were together. “Jemma?” She nods against you. “Can I ask, uh, what… or why did you bring this to me now?” You ask carefully. 
You feel Daisy take a deep breath and this is what pulls her away from you. She wipes her face and sits against the back of the couch. She plays with the rings on her fingers and flexes her jaw. “I didn’t get the abortion until a couple of weeks ago,” she admits. “I almost went through with the pregnancy because,” she takes another shaky breath. “Jean was at the same clinic I was at to make the appointment. I spilled my guts to her because Jemma had to leave halfway through since it wasn't the appointment and Jean was there when I had second thoughts. It took me a couple of weeks to even go in because I was in denial for a bit. I didn’t want to believe it was true. Then I saw the sonogram and I,” she shakes her head and looks up to the ceiling. “I had second thoughts.” She shrugs her shoulders and you take one of her hands to offer your support. It’s not an easy decision for most. That's assuming that it's ever an easy decision for anyone. “Jean offered to pay for my doctor bills and prenatal care if I decided to follow through with the pregnancy and gave her and Anna the baby and never told you about any of this.” You drop Daisy’s hand and turn away from her. 
You stand up with that nauseous feeling again, not sure what to do about a betrayal of this caliber. You know that Jean has a tendency to do anything and everything to get what she wants when she wants it but… This was too far. “I can’t fucking,” you shake your head. You want to punch a wall or break something but you can’t. You can’t afford the injury. You can’t afford the plaster to fix the wall.  You can’t afford to replace the things you have. You can’t afford any of this because you thought you were paying off debts before interest can build on them. You thought you were doing everything right. You thought you could trust Jean. You can’t believe she would go so far as to put Daisy through something like this. 
“Please don’t hate me,” Daisy begs, “I was confused and I wasn’t sure what I wanted. I only said yes at first because I thought you would be allowed to be in their life and I thought you would like that and–” 
“I’m not upset with you,” you cut her off. “It’s not your fault,” you try to focus on your breathing but you can’t calm down. You can’t focus on anything. You don’t know how someone can be so deranged. You look at Daisy and you feel so guilty for what happened to her. The position she was put in. It makes sense why one day Jean is ready to cut your head off for saying no and then next she’s perfectly fine. What kind of person could be so deceptive? What kind of person… you huff through your nose. “I’m sorry that you had to go through that,” you say to Daisy in the softest tone you could muster up. “You shouldn’t have… She shouldn’t’ve…” you shake your head and close your eyes. 
Daisy stands up and takes your white-knuckled fist and massages the tight skin until you release your grip. “I am going to be okay. I probably shouldn’t have told you. I just, I don’t know. At first the offer was that I just give them the baby. I wrongfully assumed that also meant giving you the baby. Then she eventually told me that you would not know that the baby was even yours,” she shakes her head. “I couldn’t put myself in the middle of this. I couldn’t put anyone in the middle of that. I didn't want to be part of why Rachel’s parents grew to hate each other. You guys are such healthy examples for her.” You begin to grow upset again thinking about how Jean deceived Daisy. How she was ready to deceive you. It was one thing to ask you to knowingly not be allowed in your child's life. But to go behind your back and essentially kidnap what almost was your child… you couldn’t believe it. 
“When I had the chance to think about it, I didn’t want to give birth. I couldn’t go through with it so without telling her, I went through with the abortion because that’s what I wanted.” Daisy closes her eyes as tears slip out and she continues to rub your hand. Something she learned that can keep you grounded. “The only thing that has been tearing me apart about this whole thing is how much of it was being kept from you. I haven’t been able to sleep because of it. You deserve to know.” 
“Thank you for telling me,” you state as you watch her rub your hands. You clench your jaw as your eyebrows knit together. Normally an action like this would calm you down but the information was far too upsetting. “I need to go for a walk or something. I don’t know. I just can’t be here right now.” You pull your hand away. 
“I don’t think you should be alone,” Daisy tries to pull you back to her. 
“Trust me, right now, that’s what’s best for everyone,” you say as you hold your hand up to stop her from coming any closer to you. Daisy stares at you, wanting to be in your arms again. Wanting to feel that comfort that you brought her. Both in the past and just before she dropped the bomb on you. But you weren't someone that sought after touch when you were going through something. You retreated. You isolated yourself. At least, that's what you did when you were with her. She might never know that there are other sides to you. Especially not after tonight. 
“Okay,” she says just above a whisper. “Okay,” she repeats as she walks to the exit. “I'm sorry for everything, again,” she says as she steps into the hallway. “Please, don't do anything stupid.” She disappears, leaving the door open. 
You stare at the door as you think of what you want to do. You think about getting into your car but you're afraid that if you do, you'll drive into a tree or worse. You'll drive to Jean’s house. You couldn't do that to Rachel. You check that you have your keys, phone, and wallet in your pockets and then you lock up your apartment on your way out. Stepping out onto the concrete sidewalk outside of your apartment building you look every which way. There are bars and restaurants down each way. You could easily find somewhere to drink but that's not what you want to do. So you start walking. 
You walk aimlessly for a long time. You walk until your legs begin to ache and your feet begin to hurt. You find yourself at a dock, there are many boats parked but you find a space without one. You sit at the ledge and look out to the water and breathe. The smell of the salty water is calming. You watch as the water moves causing the reflection of the lights to dance. You allow yourself to grieve because even though you didn't want another child, you contributed to almost bringing another life into the world. It was a weird feeling. You're not upset with Daisy for making her choice, you are grateful to her. But you still feel the loss. You didn't understand the feeling but you let yourself feel it. Because even though you don't understand why you feel the way that you do, you don't have to justify or explain it to anyone. You can just allow yourself to feel whatever you want to. 
Then you grieve the relationship you thought you had with Jean. You can't believe she would pull something like this. You don't understand where an idea like that would come from out of her. You don't know how you'll be able to move past this. You feel like she took everything the two of you built together over the years and tore it apart bit by bit. You feel disgusting. You feel used. You take deep breaths as you feel it all. Hoping to release it in a healthy way. It was done, there wasn't much else that you could do about it now except to confront her. You couldn't do that until Sunday.
When you stand up to leave, you slip and fall into the water. You don't try to swim at first. You let the water move you. Trusting that it won't take you away. That it won't pull you under and shorten your time on this planet. You just float in the water. Eventually, the need for air is too great and you swim up until you break the surface with a big gasp. 
You pull yourself up onto the dock and start walking home. You are grateful for the bulky phone case when you pull it out of your pocket to find that the phone is perfectly fine. You use the map application in order to navigate your way home. When you arrive at your destination you shower and eat a microwavable meal. You fall into your bed after taking a sleep aid and fall asleep. 
The next day, at work, Wanda stops by the job site around lunch time. You walk into Pietro’s office and find the two of them laughing with takeaway meals in front of them. You still feel horrible from the night before. But hearing her laugh heals the wounds inside your heart. 
“Y/n!” Wanda grins. “I brought you something too,” she holds up a container. You look at the container and try not to show that you have anything wrong with you by forcing on a smile. 
“You didn't have to,” you say as you move to the sink to wash your hands before you join them. “I appreciate this. Is there an occasion I'm not aware of?” You ask as you open the container. The aroma of your favorite food should have made you happier, instead you began to feel nauseous again. It has nothing to do with the food or Wanda's presence and everything to do with the feelings that you're suppressing. 
“No, I had lunch with Tony yesterday and it reminded me how much I enjoy having lunch with other people,” she shrugs. “Isolation can become a bit of a downside when it comes to working from home for me sometimes.” 
You nod, “Makes sense. Why don't you do the hybrid method? That's what Daisy did with school. She would do online classes and in-person classes,” you suggest before you take a bite. You chew slowly because you do need to eat. No matter how sick you're feeling. 
“That's a good idea,” Pietro agrees. “You could finally get better acquainted with the rest of the staff.” 
Wanda makes a distasteful face, “I don't know. Getting to know people always leads to getting stuck in the middle of their drama.” She shakes her head. “I think I have enough of my own.” 
Pietro shrugs, “You never know. Sometimes it's good to hear about other people's drama. It makes your life sound better. Why do you think I still talk to you? Just because you're my sister?” Wanda’s eyes widen and she punches her brother on his shoulder. “Hey! It's not my fault, you have the most dramatic life out of anyone I know! Y/n,” he nudges you, “back me up here!” 
You are snapped out of your head and try to catch up with the conversation. You look between them cluelessly. “I'm sorry, I probably have her beat when it comes to a dramatic life.” 
Pietro shakes his head, “What are you talking about? Other than that baby thing, you are relatively drama free. That drama even ended pretty well from what I remember.” 
You feel a little light headed as you are reminded by the development of that issue. That there is a new ending to the situation. But you don't tell him. You don't want to tell him. You're not even sure you want to tell Wanda. Not right now at least. You nod, “Yeah, I guess you're right.” You turn to Wanda with a playful shrug. “Sorry, I tried.” Wanda shakes her head and the three of you share a laugh. 
“Whatever,” Wanda mutters as she stabs her salad with her fork. 
When lunch is over, you walk Wanda out to her car. You're quiet as she talks to you about her current project and updating you on her boys. Then she asks you if you are okay because you seem a little off. You shrug and stop when you reach the car. “Um the other day, Jean and Anna asked me to move my workshop out of their shed,” you scratch behind your ear. Feeling queasy saying her name. 
“Your workshop?” Wanda asks as she unlocks her car. 
“Yeah, just my tools and some leftover materials that I used on my last order,” you explain as you open the car door for her. 
“Last order? What do you mean?” Wanda reaches over and sets her purse on the passenger seat but she doesn't sit in her car just yet. 
“I have a little side business. Haven't I told you about it before?” You are surprised with yourself that you haven't mentioned this to her before. You try to think of a time that you might've brought it up before but you come up with nothing. There just hasn't been a reason to. Wanda shakes her head as she does the same. “Ah well, I have a small business. I take custom orders. Anything that someone wants built, I build it.” You pull out your phone and show her your website. “Just something to help with the bills whenever I can't get a lot of hours.” She takes your phone and nods, impressed by the stuff you have built in the past. “Anyway, the reason it's on my mind, they want me to move my stuff out of the shed. I can't really afford a place to be able to store everything and be able to have the space to work on orders.” 
“I have a shed that, admittedly, could use some care,” she says as she hands you back your phone. “You could set up shop in there, at no cost, of course.” 
“Wanda, I can't take you up on that offer,” you resist. 
“Yes, you can,” she insists. “Why couldn't you?” 
You look away and lick your lips as you are reminded of the night she rejected you. “I would need a lot of access to it when or really if I get another order. I don't know if it's a good idea for us to spend that much time together.”
Wanda nods as she understands where you're coming from. “Technically we wouldn't be spending any of that time together. You'd be working and I would be inside my house or doing something. Come on, we're friends. Let me help you with this.” 
You focus your eyes back to hers and you think about just how much she has been helping you. It doesn't feel like there is a balance in the friendship with how often she helps you compared to how often you help her. “I don't know Wanda,” you say as you bite your bottom lip in thought. You can't think of a good reason to say no so you don't. You shrug and nod at her. “Okay, yeah, I will take you up on that offer. Thank you, Wanda. I really appreciate it. Is it okay if I bring it all by on Sunday?” 
Wanda smiles and nods, “Of course, come by then. I'm sure the boys will be happy to see you and Rachel again. They were pretty upset about not having you guys there last week.” 
“Yeah, Rachel wasn't happy about it either. She prefers cooking with you a lot more than she does with me,” you say with a soft laugh. Wanda smiles at her shoes as she thinks about how much she prefers cooking with you over anyone else. She looks back up and locks eyes with you. She feels like an idiot for pushing you away but she doesn't feel ready to tell you how she feels about you. 
“I'll see you on Sunday,” she says and you nod as you repeat her departing words as you step away from her. You wave as she drives off and you go back to work without thinking about your problems with Jean and instead thinking about Wanda and how pretty she looked today. 
Saturday night you can't sleep. You toss and turn even after taking a sleep aid. Your heart pounds as your mind races about seeing Jean the next day. You can't stop running through scenarios of confronting her. Are you going to do it right away? Are you going to choke? Is the sight of her going to make you nauseous? Or worse. Is it going to cause you to actually vomit? Will you be able to see her without getting angry? You're going to have to be there longer than you want to because you have to load your truck with your stuff but are you going to make it through? You don't know. And you're exhausted by the anticipation. 
You are lucky to get in a nap before you have to pick up Rachel. You have to drink two cups of coffee before you feel awake enough to drive. On the drive over, you are yet again practicing what you're going to say when you arrive. You yawn as you park and shake your head to get you ready to knock on the door. You stare at the house as you try to remember that she is your friend. She was your favorite person once upon a time. You loved her. But it's all tainted now. She has slowly burned you out and ripped you to shreds. 
You step out of your truck and knock on the door. You look at the welcome mat to keep yourself calm as you wait. When there's no response, you ring the doorbell. You take slow breaths as you try to clear your mind. You can't think about what Daisy told you in front of Rachel. 
Anna is the one to open the door. Since Daisy hadn't mentioned her, you can tell yourself that she isn't someone that you should be upset with and you can tell yourself that she has no idea. At least until you can figure out when to confront them about this. You walk through the house to get to your stuff in the backyard but when you bring the tools to your truck you go through the gate that leads to the front instead of going through the house. You don't say anything to Anna, you don't even ask why she's the only person you've seen so far. You just focus on your task. Move your tools from the shed to your truck. When you're done, Rachel greets you with a tight hug that you are happy to reciprocate. It's a relief to see her and to hold her. 
Jean is on the phone in the kitchen and you don't feel the desire to interrupt her conversation just to confront her. You decide to leave it alone. You take Rachel to the car and help her get inside. “Did you hear the good news?” Rachel asks as you get settled in the driver's seat. You shake your head and ask her what the good news is. “I'm having a baby brother! My mommies said so. I'm going to be a big sister!” Your heart stops as your entire body freezes. How could they tell her something like that? How do they even know what the gender would have been? 
“Wait right here, I need to ask your mommies something,” you tell your daughter with a tight voice. You climb out of the truck and walk to the front door. This time, you enter without knocking and walk up to Jean as she ends her phone call. “How dare you,” you start bitterly. Jean is thrown off and her confused smile drops. “How dare you put Daisy in that kind of position. How dare you tell our daughter that she's going to be a big sister before there is a baby. There isn't going to be a baby! There never should have been. You shouldn't have tried to talk Daisy out of her decision. You are a cisgendered female, you should have some respect when it comes to another woman making a decision about her life and her body. Not only that, you are my best friend. Or at least you used to be. I thought you would have enough respect for me to tell me the moment you found out about Daisy's pregnancy. I was mistaken to believe the lies you told me but I will not allow that behavior to affect our daughter. So you better be a thousand percent certain when it comes to something as big as a sibling coming into her life before you tell her anything!” You take a split second to decide whether or not to continue and with how upset you are, you can't stop yourself. “And I was going to let Daisy tell you this herself but I will do what you should have done. She went through with her decision. There won't be a baby. Now I suggest that you either start looking into fostering or adopting — no. You should get your fucking head checked be clearly you are out of your fucking mind, Jean!” Jean slaps you clear across your face. The slap was loud and the impact was hard. It stings and you lift your hand up to your face in shock. 
“Get out!” Anna shouts from behind you. You are shaking with anger. You weren't aware that you had gotten so furious with the situation. You try to say more but Anna won't let you. Jean is in tears and looking down at her hand, shocked by her own actions. Anna steps in between you and her wife. “Get the fuck out of my house Y/n! Get out! Get out!” She starts pushing you backwards. You hold your hands up and shake your head. 
“You're both unbelievable. I'm going,” you walk out after Anna's last shove. You can't believe the reactions. You can't believe the lack of accountability. You storm across the yard and climb into the truck. 
“What's wrong?” Rachel asks in a scared little voice. You feel terrible seeing her shaken up. You sigh and close your eyes before you look at her. 
“Nothing sweetheart,” you say as softly as you can. “Nothing, let's just… we're going to go home and I'm going to go for a run and then maybe we'll stop by Wanda’s house to drop all of this stuff off later. How does that sound?” You try to make her feel more at ease. 
“Why can't we go to Ms. Wanda’s first? I really want to see Tommy and Billy and tell them about the good news!” She asks innocently and you have to close your eyes to calm down. You open them and start the engine. You need to distance yourself from this house. From Jean and Anna. You're starting to wonder if your ex’s behavior is being instigated by her wife. You aren't sure how you can find out. But it's definitely something to look into with the lengths she's gone through to make this idea of theirs happen. 
“Honey, mommies were mistaken. You're not going to be a big sister,” you correct her. 
Rachel frowns, “Yes I am. They said so. My mommies don't lie to me, Baba.” 
“I know that sweetheart, that's why I said that they were mistaken. That's not the same as lying, it's more like they didn't know what they were telling you wasn't true,” you take a second to glance at her. “Does that make sense to you?” Rachel nods with tears building in her eyes. “Awe baby girl, what's wrong?” 
“I really wanted to be a big sister,” she says as she wipes her tears. You feel bad as you continue to drive. 
“I know sweetie, I know,” you sigh as you start to reconsider their proposal. But you quickly shove that thought out of your mind. You cannot allow your daughters disappointment to change your mind on a matter of this magnitude. “Do you still want to go to Wanda’s first?”
“Yes please,” she says as she continues to wipe her face. “I want to see my friends.” You want to calm down before you see Wanda. You don't want to pull her into more of your problems. But you feel bad enough for taking away your daughters smile. So you suck it up and drive to Wanda’s house. You text her that you're on the way when you stop at a red light. 
When you pull up the driveway, Wanda is waiting outside with a smile. She knocks on the window and talks as you roll it down. “I don't care what you say, I'm helping you move the stuff into the shed.” Her wide smiles drops to an expression of concern when she sees the red mark on your cheek. She looks further into the truck and sees Rachel's face is red from crying. “What happened?” She looks you over and you shake your head. 
“Nothing, why do you ask?” You say, oblivious to the evidence on your face while you try to hide your frustration from the day. 
Wanda leans in as close as she can get. “Have you looked in the mirror?” She says in a low whisper. 
Your eyebrows knit together and you frown before you drop the visor mirror to check yourself out. Then you see the mark and you shut it. You want to curse yourself for not going home first. “I can't talk about it right now. Can we start moving this stuff?” Wanda nods and allows you to get out of the vehicle. You walk to the other side to help Rachel down before you start to take stuff down from your truck. You hand some boxes to Wanda and she leads the way to her shed. She talks the entire way about how she spent her entire Saturday reorganizing the entire space. You hardly listen as your mind replays the last hour. How Jean slapped you and Anna pushed you. How angry you felt —  no, feel. 
Once the pair of you set the boxes down Wanda asks again what happened and the words come out of you before you can stop them. You tell her everything from running into  Jemma to what happened with Jean just moments ago. Wanda is quiet as she stands there and processes. She doesn't look at you as she does. You shift your weight uncomfortably as you wait for a response. When she finally moves you don't expect her to hug you the way that she does. She holds you tightly in a warm embrace that breaks your walls down. 
“I'm so sorry,” she whispers against your chest as you break down in tears and she rubs your back. You let her hold you and comfort you in ways that you hardly ever allowed anyone to take care of you. You allow her to witness a side of vulnerability that you rarely let many see. 
After a bit of time the both of you stop crying. You and Wanda sneak into the house and each go to a bathroom in order to wash your faces and then get back to work. Together the truck gets emptied of the tools and materials in an impressive amount of time and was put away in the shed. When the both of you finish, Wanda gets a phone call and excuses herself to answer. You follow her inside to wash your hands. 
You get a message from Nebula and you feel slightly guilty when you do. You open the message and you clench your jaw as she admits how much she likes you and asks when she can see you next. The two of you went out on a date shortly after Wanda rejected you. It was an okay date but with everything going on, it doesn't feel right. You close your phone and head upstairs to check on the kids. As you do so you pass Wanda's office. Her door is slightly ajar. You don't mean to listen in but when you hear the words,  “Thank you for introducing me… yeah he has made me feel things I haven't felt before,” and,  “I feel like he understands me better than I understand me.” You feel your heart sink. You continue to walk to check on the kids as you try to tell yourself that you didn't hear the entire conversation so you couldn't possibly know what she was talking about. But a small voice in the back of your head is telling you that she rejected you because she found someone else. A reality that you'll have to accept if you and Wanda are going to continue to be friends. 
After you check on the kids you schedule another date with Nebula for the next Sunday after you drop Rachel off. Then you continue on with your night with Wanda and the kids. Doing your best to keep your mind off of everything else.
Chapter 19
Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @agaymilflover @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @thatshyboy1998 @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @notbornbutforged @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiofthemultifandom @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer @scarlettwidow34 @chasethemoon @raven-ss @canyonyodeler @sokovianbaby @alexawynters @bittysworld @hopeless-romantic17177 @spongebobtentacles @the-ox-fan20 @shaniiwm
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mhahaikyuus · 1 day
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mafia geto pt 2
continuation of: part 1
tags:; established relationship, mafia geto, fluff, smut, mentions of gun, violence, domestic relationship
words: 1.6K
MINORS DNI
a/n: likes and reblogs appreciated
Your first date was six months ago
You were still a student but Geto had a personal driver to drive to and from campus/work. You basically lived at his house at his request, “I can take care of you, please just let me.” 
As much as you adored him you had to set boundaries with Suguru. Telling him you were still going to keep your job, go to school, and keep your apartment. He agreed reluctantly but respected your wishes.
Geto lived in a mansion and when you first came to his home you thought it was one of those historical houses that you could tour in. Geto gave you a key with a kiss on the lips telling you, “Choose a wing it’s yours.” 
Your eyes almost bulged out of your head at his words, “Suguru...what are you talking about a wing is mine?” 
“I want you to have whatever you want and too feel comfortable. I live alone and I want to spend time with you here. So pick a wing and I can have someone pick up whatever you want.” He said guiding you further into the house. Your feet seemed to be planted before his hands held your shoulders walking down the huge hallway.
“Baby I feel like I’m taking advantage." You admitted looking at the rug beneath your feet that had to cost more than your yearly salary. 
“You’re not. But if you are taking advantage I’m glad it’s me.” He smiled his head leaning down to your own height. His pretty violet eyes studying your nervous ones. 
“You’re not funny.” You whined. 
The 6′3 man picked you up bridal style making you shriek in laughter as he walked into one of the wings giving you a tour against your will. 
Geto adjusted you to his side and opened the door walking in, “What do you think? If it’s not your style we can call designers and make it whatever you want. You sighed leaning into his neck at the beautiful bedroom you both stood in Your face tucked into his neck as your other hand rested on the other side of his face. “I have an apartment ya know. You don’t need to do any of this. I can come over here normally.” The bedroom was bigger than your apartment. Geto dropped you on the bed and climbed beside you pulling your waist to make you straddle him. 
“Stay with me, please.” He whined a voice only you had the chance to hear and it was enough to make you melt. 
“Okay baby.” You agreed before leaning down to kiss him. Making out with his soft lips and his hands running over your body. 
You never outright asked him where he got his money but after a couple months together you connected the dots. 
It was a 75 percent chance whenever you went to touch his waist a gun would be either tucked in his waistband or in his pocket, causing you to momentarily pause and pull it out and drop it on a nearby surface. 
He had a jaw dropping number in his bank account with nothing to spend it on, well until you. Thats how he was able to continuously buy items from your job and brush it off like it was buying a candy bar at a gas station not a thirty thousand dollar watch. 
When you were sleeping, after trying to wait for him to come home, Geto walked into your shared bathroom coming home late from work. The light was enough for you to squint your eye open and in your blurry vision you saw your boyfriend covered in blood before shutting the door. His usual crisp white button down, face, and hands stained with copious amounts of blood. He took a shower cleaning him of his sins before climbing into bed with you. 
It confirmed your suscipions when you woke up after a long night with Geto. You were In the kitchen eating a snack leg swinging on the bar stool, when an emergency meeting took place. About 50 guys all armed with guns and suits with scowling faces all flooded into Geto’s office. You didn’t want or need to know what happened but gun shots were sounded off and yelling heard across the mansion. You shut the door to your room and turned on the tv with a snack ignoring whatever was happening in your house. 
Geto came in about 10 minutes later with a scowl dropping his watch on his nightstand and picked you up like you were nothing using you to release his anger, pressing and choking you into the mattress then afterwards gently loving you like you were fragile. He pounded you into the mattress until you were a drooling mess trying to run from his rough thrusts but he would wrap a hand around your throat and put his leg up onto the bed to really make you cum until the sheets were soaked through.
Whispering the filthiest shit in your ear, "Don't run angel. You're taking it so good, are you going to let me slut you out? Give me what I want?"
He asked into your ear as you whined into the pillow as his rough thrusts made your eyes roll back as his large thumbs pressed into your lower back making you arch under the huge man. Suguru would kiss up your body muttering small “Thank you, thank you, thank you. you’re so beautiful. like an angel.” as he rolled off of you and you were trying to regain your senses as he cleaned you up. 
You still had your apartment but Geto had cut a deal with you landlord and bought your entire building. Rent paid for as long as you stayed and he didn’t even tell you until you called your landlord confused about your bank account that month, seeing your payment had been refunded. 
Walking into this office you opened the door no knock or warning, only a privilege you had, to talk to him “Suguru?” “Yes love.” He said not even looking up from whatever contract he was reviewing at his desk. His thick hair almost a curtain over his tired eyes. Sleeves rolled up and the first two buttons open. “Why was I told that my rent is paid…indefinitely.” You said with a tone to your voice that Suguru didn’t like.
His pen stopped moving at your question,“Because I bought your building darling.” 
“Suguru! We talked about this. You can’t keep spending all your money on me.” You said exasperated. You told him this multiple times but he never listened. A relationship where the man paid for dates and a gift for special occasion was normal to you but he took this to a different level with spending money.
Suguru was at your beck and call and did whatever you said. He would never want to jeopardize your relationship with him not listening or communicating properly with you. However, you paying for anything with your own money was not going to happen, ever. Suguru hated arguing with you. Every time you had the discussion he would agree with a small smile and do it anyway. That was never going to change
He turned his chair and gestured for you to sit in his lap. You reluctantly came around his desk and sat with moody eyes and Geto laughed, “Stop pouting because I take care of you.” “You’re not taking care of me, you’re using too much money on me and you need to stop.” 
“No. I love spending money on you. You spending all my money makes me hard.” He said shifting his hips so you could feel him.
You rolled your eyes and lightly smacked his chest, “I’m serious.” 
“Me too. Darling you have to stop feeling bad. If there was a problem I wouldn’t spend the money.” He shrugged. 
“You’re so annoying.” You groaned, “You're going to get mad one of these days and break up with me and then send me an itemized receipt making me bankrupt.”
He narrowed his violet eyes at your words squeezing your hip. “What? Now you’re preparing to leave me angel?” 
You laughed giving him a deep kiss, “Of course not.” 
“Good because I can’t sleep without you. Now that I know all it takes is you, you’re not going anywhere.” He said his thumb stroking your face lovingly.  
You looked down from his eyes to his neck. His dress shirt, 2 buttons open and a loose tie hanging in a knot at mid chest. Your boyfriend looked sexy especially when he said all the right things. 
Grabbing the tie you tugged him into you. Your nails digging into his nape making both of you groan into each other’s mouths. You loved running your hands through his silky black long hair.
Pulling away from you he dug into his back pocket and pulled out something for you. 
“This is bad timing but I got you something.” He said with a small smile with purple eyes shining with happiness. His own lips shining with your saliva.
He handed you a card. “I got you a black card, unlimited spending.” 
You gently rested your head on his chest not saying a word. He already knew what you were going to say. Geto tucked the card in your back pocket before smacking your ass making you laugh. “You’re impossible baby.”
Every night you dressed in one of his shirts and he clung onto you. His arm wrapped around your waist and his weight crushing you. 
When the sun would peak through the curtains he wakes you up with morning sex until your legs felt like jelly. Geto would carry you to breakfast in his shirt with a spread already on the table. 
Your legs laying over his under the table as you two ate. His other hand gently rubbing your leg. He needed to be touching you when you were in his presence. 
Geto was not sure of a lot but he knew that once he experienced your love there was no turning back.
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lynk-zee · 5 hours
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i've been looking at your posts recently and i am in LOVE. is there chance you could do a spanking scenario? like the main 3 possibly but if not then just one of them! don't stress if not 🩷
Sweet Peaches
Added ass grabbing so I don’t repeat myself too much! SPICY but marked NSFW
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You were being a brat again. Dancing on his nerves like a little ballerina, fluttering your eyelashes at him as if you weren’t acting up. Well this is what you get.
“Someone could have walked in…” He growls into your ear as he has you sprawled over his lap. You were in his office, wearing nothing but his lab coat, waiting for him in the most tantalizing pose he’s ever seen. What if he had a colleague with him? Perhaps a patient? What were you thinking, waiting in such scandalous attire. He had to teach you a lesson.
“Count.”
Before you could protest, he swung his hand down onto your ass, making you yelp. “I said count.”
Again. “O-One…”
Again and again. “T-Two…ThrEE-AH!”
“Speak clearly or you’ll have to start over.”
“F—OUR!! Five…S-Six…”
By the time you reached your twenties, you were so far gone.
“Twenty-four…..Ugh-huh….Twenty-five…”
“Good.”
He pulled you up to sit in his lap, tutting at the glazy look in your eyes, thumbing away your drool.
“Good…Let me reward you now, sweetheart…”
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I feel like Rafayel always has a hand on your ass anyways. It’s his favorite place to hold you when you hug, when you kiss, when you fuck… Spanking is kind of a given. At the worst possible moments. You could be at his art exhibition, doing your job as his body guard when he notices how good your ass looks in those pants. Like, mid-sentence, he will smack and squeeze your ass, continuing to converse with his patrons like nothings happened. And no, he will not be letting go anytime soon.
Also squeezes your ass like a stressball when he’s having a hard time concentrating on his art. He’ll be like “Baby can you come here?” just so he can fondle your ass as he tries to figure out what color would look best for his painting.
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Keep this man away from your ass!! I’m warning you! Letting Xavier know what it’s like to hold your ass can result in some intense consequences. Especially when he slaps it for the first time. It’s over. He doesn’t spank to punish, he spanks to mark.
Most of the time he uses his hand, he like the skin to skin contact despite the sting. It feels more personal. But, if your up for it, let him use a riding crop or a paddle. Maybe not a belt (baby doesn’t want to hurt you too bad), but it can get pretty intense with him (I tried to warn you). You just look so pretty covered in his marks.
No matter his weapon of choice, Xavier will always give you superb aftercare. You were so good for him, he has to be so good for you. He’ll rub a soothing balm on your skin as you whine into his chest, whispering praises in your ear.
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twst-kumi · 2 days
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Weeping Maiden [ACT I] CHAPTER 8
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[ACT I] CHAPTER 8
Silver looked at the young girl worried, he kneeled in front of her looking at her lifeless eyes. [Name] looked at him her finger still probing into the rotten apple. The young man stopped her gently as he carefully observed her face.
“_ Did something happen?
_ I… I’m not sure… It’s nice here, I don’t have to think when I’m here. 
_You mustn’t give up now. Look the thorns are creeping up on her legs.
_Thorn?”
[Name] looked down to see the thorn warping around her ankle. She had never once noticed them before. This time she tried to move only for it to tighten around her ankle. The more she tried, the more she was losing her will. Silver tried to cut the thorns but it didn't work. 
“_Forget it, I don't think they are that problematic right now. 
_Are you serious?” 
[Name] chuckled before looking at the rotten apple in her hand. She then sighed before finally talking.
“_I think something bad happened, but I can't remember much of it. I think those apples are important to someone.
_ Who?
_ I don't know but I hope he will not die and return to reasons.” 
Silver sat beside her and watched her play with the apple in her hand. She had a lot on her mind. He decided to stay here with her to keep her company. [Name] smiled gently, putting her head on his shoulder. He was such a sweetheart, she definitely knew him from somewhere. But her memory was always blurry when she was here. She couldn't remember much, it felt so good. 
“_ You know, I'm sure I saw you before. 
_ Where?
_ Maybe in a dream. Who knows.” 
***
Ambrose looked at [Name]’s sleeping body completely distraught. When Neige called him in a hurry, he wasn't expecting a curse on her. The young girl was lying on her bed peacefully, she looked fast asleep unaware of the worry of the people around her. Her heartbeat was really faint like she was on the brink of death. 
“_What happened?
_I don't know, she asked me to meet her this evening. We were talking, I gave her a sample of the apple juice I was working on and then she collapsed.” 
Ambrose looked at the young idol worried. Neige looked panicked and tears were trailing down his cheek. The old man patted his back before examining the young girl. His heart ached when he looked at her. So pale, and lifeless, that he had to remind himself that she was just in a deep sleep. His daughter was still alive. But anger also swelled up in his heart. Who could have done such a thing to her? 
“_Do you know who she met before you? Or what she was doing?
_No… Oh right, I saw her with Vil-senpai in the town. 
_ Vil?
_Vil Schoenheit, our Co-actor and he is in Night Raven College. Now that I think about it… No! No, no, no. He couldn't have done that! He… and [Name] seemed to go along well.” 
Neige trembled as if he had come to the realization. Glancing up at the headmaster he could see wave after wave of pure contempt on his face. Good, everything was going as he planned. The headmaster, his fist clenched, stormed out of the room to his office. Should he contact the police? No, first he must have proof and find a way to wake his precious child. If Vill Schoenheit was indeed the culprit then he needed to take responsibility for his own wrongdoing. Thankfully, it wasn't life-threatening but they needed to find a way to wake her up. Ambrose took his phone and dialed Night Raven College’s number. 
“_ Hello Crowley, we need to talk.”
Crowley looked at his phone disgusted the moment he heard Royal Sword Academy’s headmaster. 
“_Ah… Yes, yes, how are you, Ambrose?
_ I can't say I'm doing well… Can I ask you something?
_Of course… my… friend!”
Crowley couldn't help but smile when he heard that he was having trouble. 
“_Send me Mr Schoenheit. 
_ Hm… that would be difficult. Why do you need him?
_One of my beloved students was poisoned with a potion.
_OoOh sad, do you need Mr Schoenheit's expertise? 
_No Crowley, Mr Schoenheit is the main suspect right now.
_We don't have any proof, Ambrose. Why should…
_Look here, my patience is wearing thin Crowley. Mr Schoenheit was the last person seen with MY daughter before she was poisoned. So either you send him NOW! Or I'm getting the police involved!”
Crowley was stunned for a moment. He didn't know Ambrose could be so hostile. His hand shaking the crow-masked man agreed to send the young actor.
“_Alright I will have the sacred tree room open so send him through the mirror. 
_ I will…” 
***
No one was around when Ash sneaked inside Royal Dawn. He could hear Flora sniffles upon [Name]’s sleeping form. The fairy was heartbroken by the scenery before her. She couldn't help but remember Rose when she fell under Maleficent’s terrible spell.
“_ How could this happen? Oh, my poor princess… if I still had the same force than when I was in my prime I would have protected you better.” 
The fairy wept while rearranging the young girl's hair and clothes. She then flew away to find any clue on what potion she may have drunk. Ash sighed in relief before leaving his hiding place. He closed the window shutter and locked the door before sitting next to her bed. 
“_Alright, there is a 70% chance this will work… When the clock strikes twelve, your carriage will turn into a pumpkin, your
horses into mice, your coachman into a rat, and your gown into rags… Midnight clock.
_ Ugh…” 
[Name] groaned as she opened her eyes slowly. The young girl looked up to see Ash. The blond boy looked relieved as she woke up. 
“_What… Oh right, I was with Neige when…”
The young girl frowned when she realized the situation. Neige gave her a potion. She couldn't believe how easily she was tricked and… Tears gathered in her eyes. 
Ash could tell she was hurt and who was the culprit. He knew Neige better than anyone here. And the boy negatively changed a lot.
“_ Ash can I ask your help? I need you to contact Vil fast. I’m afraid he may be in danger.
_I will do what I can but we need to get an antidote for you. My unique spell only works for a short period.” 
[Name] smiled and thanked him before telling him everything she knew about what happened. She was perfectly aware of her situation, it was worrisome how calm she looked. Ash couldn’t help but notice this abnormal trait of her. Like getting poisoned/drugged was just another Tuesday for her, nothing out of the ordinary. The young girl smiled at him before falling back into her death-like sleep. Ash opened her door to see Aurelius and Alexis waiting on both sides of her door. They both looked serious. 
“_Since when were you two… 
_From the beginning.
_Senpai, let us help you.”
Ash looked at the two younger students, he could see determination burn in their eyes. 
“_Alright, we need to get in contact with Vil and…
_I heard the headmaster call for him. They are waiting for him in the tree room. 
_Then we need to take him to [Name] before the headmaster and the other caught him. 
_Yeah, I have a plan for that.”
Ash smiled confidently as the two students saw some mice jump on his shoulder.
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anthem of the heart
(jake kiszka x reader) 18+
summary: you and your best friend move into a new apartment after college, wanting a fresh start in nashville. however, you come to find that your neighbors are musicians. very loud musicians who like to keep you up at night. especially one, who likes to bother you on purpose. you would hate him… if he wasn’t so hot.
warnings for overall series: eventual SMUT!!!, angst, mentions of past abuse (not jake), abuse (not jake), mentions of past sexual assault (not jake), sexual assault (not jake), enemies to lovers, cursing, let me know if I missed any. (i’m still making this series up as I go along so it might change)
warnings for this chapter: abuse, mentions of past abuse, sexual assault, misogyny, ex drama, violence, insults, cursing, let me know if I missed any.
author’s note: this is where the plot thickens, ok? trust the process lol. PLEASE MAKE SURE TO READ THE WARNINGS. this is a heavy chapter. we’ll get to more of the lovey-dovey in coming chapters, but this? this is not love. reader beware.
• • •
Chapter Three:
you did your best to forget about jake.
sure the loud music was annoying but the image of him, shirtless, brushing your cheek replaying in your head constantly was much more infuriating. you just had to forget about that asshole. that toned, cocky asshole.
kaylee finished painting that night and in the morning, while you were getting dressed, you apologized for not helping her finish.
“don’t worry about it. I could tell you were too in your head to work”, she smiled then squinted at you, “what happened that made you so spaced?”
you told her. everything.
from the first time you talked to him, to him touching your cheek.
she was speechless.
“yeah. I definitely see where you’re coming from”, she breathed.
“yeah, I don’t know what to think”, you finished buttoning your blouse,”but for now I gotta go. I have an interview in an hour.”
you hugged her, grabbed your keys, and made your way down the stairs to your car.
you knew what you needed to focus on today was getting a job. you didn’t spend four years working two jobs and being a full-time student to daydream about your neighbor.
you were interviewing at your second pick of jobs in the city. your first pick hadn’t responded to your online application yet, so you decided to go for this one for now.
you wore a patterned pink blouse with black slacks and small pink kitten heels. you were already a little uncomfortable in the heels, but you chalked it up to nerves.
the building was huge, many offices on many floors peered down at you. you felt small, but you were trying to stay confident.
walking into the waiting room, you felt eyes on you. many other people lined the walls in chairs, seemingly applying for the same job. as you checked in, you took in the overbearingly white, hospital-like walls and gray details.
certainly less color than you would prefer, but you needed a job nonetheless.
the wait felt like forever, but it was probably only ten minutes.
a woman walked in, in a black dress, and looked down at her clipboard. she called your name and you quickly stood up. following her, you were led down a small white hallway with gray carpet.
they must really detest color here, you thought.
she let you into an office and you quietly thanked her. inside was a man in a suit and tie sitting behind a desk. his face, adorned with a small scowl, was halfway hidden by a computer screen.
“hello, sir. i’m here about the marketing job”, you greeted, holding out your resume for him to take.
he didn’t look up, focused on his computer, but waved his hand for you to sit.
you did, squirming a bit uncomfortably in the thick plastic on the chair. finally, he finished typing and looked at you.
“oh, right. the, uh, marketing job.”
his middle aged voice was a bit raspy, and his posture suggested he’d been working nonstop for a few decades.
“so”, he started, “what do you see yourself doing in five years?”
the question was a given at any interview, so you were thoroughly prepared.
“I see myself with a growing career, hopefully in a higher position than i’m interviewing for, and living in my own house just outside the city.”
“with your husband?”
you had to hide the flash of pain on your face as you remembered your ex. ex-fiancé, in fact.
you replied, “sure, maybe in time, but I don’t have any plans for that right now.”
he rolled his eyes and wrote something on a paper in front of him.
“i’m sorry, sir”, you smiled, not understanding what you did to illicit that response, “is there something wrong with my answer?”
“it’s always girls like you, so young, that act like they don’t care about relationships. only careers.”
you laughed half-heartedly and tried to stay polite.
“well, I did work very hard on my career so a husband can wait.”
he raised his eyebrow, “that is a woman’s purpose, you know. your life doesn’t truly begin until you are married. then you can have children and fulfill yourself.”
you were shocked.
such an outright misogynistic remark made you question if you heard right.
you didn’t hide the shock and anger on your face as you stood up.
“excuse me, sir, but I am more than just a machine that can get married and produce children. I am a person, a very smart one at that, who can make her own decisions and pay her own bills. I do not need your input on what you think is important for me to do with my own life. thank you for the interview, but I think i’ll pass on working here. i’ll see myself out.”
you turned and left, angered and appalled.
fuck, is it asshole men month or what?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the drive home gave you time to calm down. you listened to a podcast and tried to relax but it was becoming harder and harder with all the things on your mind.
you finally got home, relieved to go upstairs and take off your shoes.
walking into your hallway, you start looking for your keys in your purse.
“hey.”
you stopped.
you’d know that voice anywhere.
your ex-fiancé.
“tanner, what the fuck are you doing here?”
you looked up, taking him in. your breath quickened, terrified. he was intimidating, scary.
“I found where you ran off to. such a hole in the wall, is it not?”
tanner examined the hallway, flicking the chipping paint.
you looked beyond him to see your apartment door, just a few feet away. you had to get there. you needed to lock yourself inside and call the cops.
“it’s good enough for me”, you replied shakily.
you started to move towards your door, steadily.
he followed you down and planted his hand firmly on the door.
“no. you’re not going anywhere. not until you tell me that you love me again.”
even while being frightened of him, you scoffed.
“say I love you again? tanner, you beat me at our engagement party! you’re fucking sick! you really think I could still love you after months of abuse?”
his faced hardened. he started inching closer to you.
you backed away, hitting the wall.
“please, tanner. calm down. just go home. please just leave me alone. please.”
in a swift move, he grabbed your arm hard. you yelped in pain, knowing he’d leave more bruises on top of the ones still healing.
“what was that? you don’t love me?”, he was borderline yelling. “you can’t fool me, bitch. I know you do. you still want me.”
when you started to sob, tanner forced his face on yours into an unwelcome kiss. he pushed his knee in between your legs, putting pressure on your core, as he grabbed your breast in his hand roughly.
pain entered your body from every angle.
you grunted and sobbed against him, “get off of me!”
then you heard a door open.
after this, it’s all a blur.
you remember bits and pieces of two men fighting.
“get the fuck off of her!”, one yelled. he planted a punch right on tanner’s jaw.
you fell to the ground, sobbing with your legs pressed to your chest.
the men swung at each other, tanner landing a few blows to the other one. but then, after one more punch to the face, tanner fell.
he was unconscious, and you buried your face in your arms to avoid seeing his face anymore.
the other man squatted to your level.
“fuck, are you ok?”
you lifted your head, and saw jake.
• • •
yeah. I told you. no picnic in this chapter. BUT keep reading, it will get better. as always PLEASE feel free to leave me feedback, give suggestions, etc!
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brokenpieces-72 · 2 hours
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COD x Transformers
Fair warning: heavier language than what I usually write.
Not gonna lie I’m gonna need help with this if y’all want a series. I’m letting requests and comments to push this series forward, because honestly I don’t know what else to do with this.
School was so stupid, why were you even here? You see some value in the lessons, math is useful, science is good to have, understanding history is helpful, and English has you reading in a different way. Why you had to come to classes though you really don't understand. But Price suggested it, and offered to pay for it, so here you are. Of course when people know where you grow up, or rather think they know where you grow up, that means dealing with people who are either afraid of you or think they are superior to you.
At least the guys in your shop class were chill. When you first came to the class, you got some looks, but after a week they were asking questions about your life. You kept a lot of it to yourself but it was nice having people not treat you like a delinquent.
You didn't have shop though, unfortunately there had been an accident recently involving some of the power tools being damaged, with yellow tape over the doors. It meant going home early sure, but you had one more class. Some girl took a piece of gum acting like she was better than you when you told her no. There was a kid who whipped around to hand you a work sheet, and then whipped back forward as soon as you got it, despite you not doing anything to him all year. Another handful of students tagged your locker with 'gang' signs and adult photos, and you were blamed for it. If it weren't for being in school you and the principal could be on a first name basis. Half the time she'd just go straight to security footage to see what had actually happened and shut down whatever group was trying to get you in trouble.
The bell rings and you stay seated, waiting for the teacher to finish talking and others to leave before you get up, slowly inserting your books and papers into your bag, before hoisting it over your shoulder. Of course it couldn't be that easy as you're met with a small group around your desk, close enough to break your personal bubble and making it very hard to stand up without bumping one of them, you just stare at the ground off to the side.
“Pay up.” The rich boy says. For what? God knows this time. He’ll demand money for a number of things. Tiny scratch on his car, losing an “unfair” bet, or for wasting his time getting called by the principal for his own actions.
“I’m not paying for the hairline damages on your daddy’s borrowed ride, for me crushing you in whatever you considered our most recent bet, or for making you late for your work shift at kissing mommy and daddy’s ass for getting caught.” You say before sliding back in your seat away from them, and heading for the door. You turn back to push in your chair, and that’s when the rich boy’s richer girlfriend pipes up.
“Probably wouldn’t want to touch any of their bills, who knows where they stuffed them last night at the club.” She sneers leaning in. You lean in to meet her.
“Sorry you couldn’t get me for your lap dance, I had respectable company to entertain last night.” You say smugly. God that shock and disgust on her face was a thing of natural beauty. You start walking out but before you can reach the door one of the rich couple’s cronies decides to make another remark.
“Bet your mama sucked dick to get you here.” You stop dead in your tracks when you hear this. When you were younger a comment like this made you see red and it made life difficult on your mother with the amount of fights you’d get into. You see red now. You turn to them.
“Even if she was straight, your fat ass hogs all the space under the desk in the office.” With that you leave, shoving your earbuds in. As you go, you take a photo of the shop class door with the yellow caution tape over it and send it to the guys. You text them, asking if you can hang out at the junkyard.
House rule: no skipping class to come see them. If you got off early that was another story. As you leave the building, you get a text from your mom. You didn’t tell her about shop class but she asks if you’re going to the junkyard. Which means she knows even without you telling her.
Y/N: yeah, shop is cancelled.
Mom: homework?
Y/N: was going to do it there.
Mom: Sleepover?
Y/N: maybe.
Mom: stay safe.
Y/N: I will.
You sigh and finally get a reply from the guys. They’re out but they’ll see you at the junkyard. Which meant you’d be able to do some homework by yourself.
There’s one of those giant storm shelters at the yard. It used to be for sorting junk like appliances, propane tanks, electronics, car parts, etc. Any equipment or machinery in there had either been removed or was completely broken down. Now it was your gang’s pad, complete with old beat up couches, a small fridge, a few tables and chairs, and whatever project was being worked on. There was a small loft area for you as well, filled with slapping bags, blankets that rivalled Swiss cheese and ratty cushions.
When you get to the junkyard you find the hole in the fence you use to sneak in and make your way down the dirt path. As you walk you notice some of the piles had been sifted through. Odd. The guys usually waited for you before sifting through the piles. Maybe they wanted an early start before going off to do whatever they were doing now. You reach the building and plop down on one of the couches, enjoying the silence and what sounds like some more trucks dropping off junk.
Kyle reclined on the couch leaning against your shoulder to bug you. They’d brought dinner for you, and Price was supposed to arrive later tonight. Johnny and Simon were working on a car they’d been trying to fix for some time. They got a new part for it and were doing some more work. Kyle was stepping back to bug you for a bit. He sees you more focused on your text book and not saying too much.
“What is the square root of Canada?” He asks. You don’t reply, so he replies for you, taking your jaw in his hand and poorly imitating your voice. “35 to the power of-“
“Fuck off.” You mutter shoving his hand away. Kyle sits up and looks at you. Something happened today, hell something happens everyday but something has you ticked off. Kyle gets up and grabs two flashlights, before swiping the textbook out of your hands. Your shoulders slump as you take it and pull the hood up on your sweater, zipping up your coat. Kyle takes his off the couch.
“Going out!” He calls, and gets a wave from Simon.
Outside you turn on the flashlight, walking with him along the dirt trail, keeping your flashlight low. You have your hands in your pockets and you feel a pat on your bicep. Kyle hands you work gloves. You take them, and continue walking.
“What happened this time?” He asks. You bump him gently, showing silently your appreciation for his company.
“Same old.” You say. Gaz sighs.
“You can’t let it get to you.” Gaz says. “They don’t know you, so why should you let them judge you?”
“I didn’t do anything wrong, they treat me like I have, and won’t stop!” You argue.
“I know I know.” Kyle says, nodding. “Nothing wrong with a few comebacks. You have to remember though you are a beast among lions.”
“What kind of a metaphor is that?” You ask, half amused, half frustrated.
“They are testing you, trying to get you to act up so they have a reason to get you into more trouble. But you’re a much more powerful being, because you are more mature. You’ve grown up faster than them and they don’t like it.”
“So this is some initiation?” You ask, as you both start going off the trail to start checking for new loads.
“Nah. They’re egging you on to see if you’ll break or try to be one of them. You refuse to be one of them, and they can see that. So they go with the former.” He explains.
“…they insulted mom.” You mutter and he stops.
“You know the truth.”
“They don’t and then they go around talking about her like she’s some whore!” You argue, getting a little upset.
“She’s not. You know that.” He says. “And that’s all that matters.”
You nod. Then you both hear something. The two of you look in the direction of the sound, towards a pile that was deflating. Animal weren’t uncommon in the junk yard. However you’ve never heard this sort of metallic animal noise. It sounds like a raptor. Kyle puts an arm out, keeping you back, and shining a light at the pile. You’re frozen in place while Kyle moves closer. He only gets a couple steps before a head pokes out and you both are still as possible.
A metallic raptor looks at the two of you tilting its head curiously.
“Please don’t quote Jurassic Park.” You say quietly. Before Kyle could respond the raptor stalks out, keeping its focus on you. You’d heard about robotic aliens online but you’d taken it in as conspiracy. Guess this is how believers are made.
The creature makes another metallic growl, sniffing at Kyle. You’re impressed he can stay so still. The raptor’s claws are razors, with its spine and head looking like it was decorated with feathers from various fan blades. It’s around your size, so Kyle is taller but he’s also unarmed. Except for the flashlight. The eyes glow as they stare at the two of you, they’re a golden yellow.
It makes another small cry before walking away, and then looking back at you.
Without thinking you slowly move towards it. Kyle tries to stop you but the raptor approaches you both again. It comes closer, until you’re eye to eye with it. Your heart is pounding, and you wonder if it can hear it. It makes an odd sound, almost like a coo. You catch a glimpse at its teeth, and they’re sharper than any nail you’ve seen.
It walks away from you, before turning back at a short distance from you both. It’s waiting.
Kyle exchanges a look with you.
“We should follow it.” You say, seeing the creature shift from foot to foot anxious. Kyle opens his mouth to argue but honestly, he doesn’t know what to make of it.
“We have to tell Soap and Ghost.” He says.
“I’ll follow it, you go get them.” You say, and start following it before Kyle can protest. Kyle texts them, instead not about to ditch you. Your mother would kill him, and she could out run him.
The critter runs up ahead and you hug after it. It waits for you to catch up before hurrying off again. In between its movements it picks around the trash looking for something. It seems to find whatever it’s looking for but you can’t make out what it is.
It keeps going and eventually rounds the bend behind a much larger pile of junk. You’re not unfamiliar with these mountains, too dangerous to scale and picking through it could cause a collapse. You hesitate now, unsure about what could be on the other side. Kyle is nervous too.
“We should wait for the others.” Kyle suggests. You don’t mind waiting. Following the creature was a complete whim. For all they knew behind the mountain was a whole flock. You look around and find a long pipe. Not perfect, but it will do. Hopefully.
You wait a while and you can hear footsteps, from two large men and the raptor. It pokes its head out and then its whole body when Ghost and Soap see it eyes wide. If Ghost is scared he doesn’t show it, Soap just tenses.
“The bloody ‘ell is that.” He asks. It comes out from its hiding place and approaches you. You approach it, meeting halfway. It claws the ground restless.
“It needs help I think.” You say looking at it. It take off yet again, and you follow it behind the mountain where you freeze up. There’s a huge dinobot before you. It’s breathing heavily, sounding like the brakes of a bus. It’s another dinosaur, but this one is huge it looks like a triceratops. It’s weak too. When you look at the raptor you see it nudging something closer to it. Mustering your courage you move closer, while the other three hold back. You find at the raptors feet are batteries.
So many questions run through your mind, but the raptor gives you this almost pleading look. You look back at the guys who look tense, but keep their lights on.
“What do we do now?”
Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @tai-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666
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Constant Change - Part 2
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Summary: You and Nick must navigate the new territories of pregnancy and parenting while managing the continued hostility from Clark Kent.
A/N: Reader is AFAB, in her late 30's, early 40's. No other descriptors used.
Word Count: ~1.3k
Warnings: Pregnancy issues. Please let me know if I missed any!
Part 1 -- Part 3
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Your “retirement” party comes too quickly for your preferences. You knew your bosses were being pressured to get you out of your job but you didn’t think they’d push for you to leave in just a week. You worked for them for so many years but because of one rich asshole you’re given such a short amount of time to say your goodbyes and make sure your coworkers can cover your job until a replacement is hired. You’d genuinely hoped to train whoever they hired but that’s not an option. 
The one solace was that you got out before your pregnancy started showing. You weren’t sure you could handle your coworkers’ well-intentioned, but unwanted, advice. You weren’t necessarily a private person but the number of stories you’ve heard about complete strangers rubbing pregnant bellies without permission and criticizing everything the woman does has you feeling shy. You haven’t announced anything yet, especially not to your family, though you get the sense Nick is bursting to tell people. 
He went with you to your first appointment with the OBGYN. He was attentive and caring. You saw the telltale signs of him making mental notes whenever the doctor said things to look out for. You got the impression that if he could carry you everywhere he would, just to make sure you didn’t overexert yourself. But he is respecting your wishes to keep your pregnancy quiet for now and that’s what matters to you.
Well, part of you does enjoy how doting and overly attentive he can be. It feels nice to be taken care of so completely sometimes. And it really feels like there’s nothing Nick wouldn’t do for you. You really need to make sure you don’t take advantage of that. You’d hate for him to feel like you were using him or were ungrateful for all of his care. 
You leave your office for the last time, carrying a box full of your personal items and some gifts from coworkers. It feels strange to know you’ll never work here again. There are so many changes happening in such a short time it’s making you feel off kilter and you start quietly crying as you wait for Nick to pick you up.
Thankfully he doesn’t leave you waiting for long. He pulls the car up to the curb and immediately jumps out to get the box from you. He’s about to make a comment about you not carrying anything heavy when he sees your tears. Holding the box in one arm, he reaches out and gently caresses your face, wiping away some of your tears. He looks intently into your eyes, silently asking if you need him to do anything. It’s another thing you love about Nick, he waits for you to tell him what you need. He never presumes he has all the answers. 
You lean into his touch and hug him as you let your tears keep falling. He holds you close with his unburdened arm. You can’t see him looking around and giving death glares at people who give you odd looks. They quickly look away and leave the two of you alone with you none the wiser. 
When you’re ready you gently pull away from him, “we should probably get going home. Don’t want you to tire your arm holding that box.” You smile and give a little chuckle at his incredulous expression. “Not that you can’t carry it forever if you really wanted to,” you assure. “I just want that arm strength saved for holding me.” 
He breaks out into a smile and kisses you, “I love you, too.” He quickly puts your box in the backseat of the car before opening the passenger side door for you. You used to try to tell him he didn’t have to keep opening doors for you but have long since given up, opting for a little ‘thank you’ kiss on the cheek every time he does it. Part of you wonders if that’s why he keeps doing it.
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“I really miss lamb curry,” you mope over your bowl of oatmeal with minimal flavorings. “Can’t wait for the morning sickness to subside.”
Nick smiles sympathetically, “I can’t wait, either. It’ll be one less thing we have to worry about for you. But the dietary changes are helping, right?”
“Yeah. My stomach still gets upset, of course, but it’s nowhere near so…volatile.” He nods as he continues eating his own oatmeal. “Also, Nick, I just…I want to thank you.” He gives you a quizzical look. “Thank you for not eating or drinking foods I can’t have. At least not in front of me. I can’t tell you how much easier it is to deal with this drab diet because you’re not flaunting your ability to eat whatever you want.”
“It’s not a problem my Lady,” he assures. “Besides, I still get plenty of my favorite flavor when I eat you out.”
You giggle and heat rushes to your face. You’ll never get over just how into you this man is and how seriously he takes your pleasure. It’s so much more than you’ve ever gotten before.
“We do still need to talk about what to do for a wedding,” you think out loud, looking at the beautiful ring Nick had gotten you. It was so beautiful, the stone's color making you think of Nick's eyes. Whenever you'd gotten anxious you looked at it and thought about his eyes looking at you with nothing but love and it calmed you down. “I suppose we’ll have to tell our respective friends and family members at some point as well.”
Nick covers your hand in his, “whatever you want to do, we can do. You want a grand wedding, we’ll make it happen. You want a civil ceremony, we can do that too. You have full say in this.”
“You know I appreciate your opinion,” you counter. 
“My opinion is that, so long as we end up married, I don’t care how it happens.” He brings your hand to his lips to kiss it.
“Maybe not a civil service,” you ponder. “I don’t want to go back to the office any time soon, even for such a happy thing. But I do like the idea of a small event. We’ve both had enough attention to last a lifetime thanks to that live-stream.” 
“Thank you, again, for hiding my face as much as you could during that,” Nick interjects. “Pretty sure it’s a big part of why I was able to keep my job instead of being relegated to office duty. And you know I can’t sit still for that kind of work.” He smiles at you, eyes filled with love and mirth. 
“Any follow up from Teach or Barber on the case?”
“Kent’s lawyers have finally convinced him he’s fucked up by suing us,” Nick chuckles. “But, of course, it’s too late for him. Barber’s working on avoiding getting me drug into the spotlight. At the same time, DA Rhodes is looking to enjoin the suit with the criminal trial Kent’s facing for attempting assault and stalking.”
“What would that mean for us?”
“We’d be saying that our defense against Kent’s claim is the result of his criminal trial. I’ll be honest, it’s not my favorite. I don’t want either of us on that witness stand for a second longer than we have to be. If it all works out, we won’t have to enter the courtroom at all.”
“That would be lovely,” you admit. “If Kent is willing to settle, maybe we can make a restraining order part of the settlement.”
“I wouldn’t mind taking this to a jury trial, get a bunch of his dirt out in public, but that would put me in a difficult position.”
“So we push for settlement and use the money for our honeymoon,” you joke.
“That actually wouldn’t be so bad of an idea,” Nick kisses your hand again. “I’d love to take you anywhere in the world.”
“Maybe a second honeymoon after…” you rub your belly. “After things get a little more settled?”
“I promise,” Nick brings you in for a kiss.
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Tag List: @alicedopey ; @icefrozendeadlyqueen ; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory ; @rebekahdawkins ; @terry2227 ; @texmexdarling
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quietwingsinthesky · 1 year
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the thing about me is that I have this need to pick up every angel on supernatural by their scruff and place them into an enclosure that will allow them to, if not heal and become better, than at least to be petty and vindictive in a way that causes less death and destruction and is just kind of annoying. which I would argue is also good for them. let angels make choices where the consequences of their actions are non-existent rather than world-ending. teaches them free will in a safe, healthy way.
#this is still about Zachariah to be clear#it’s about all of them. I’m putting them all in such nice enclosures. with so much enrichment#but mostly this is about Zachariah. just kind of want to put him in an actual office and watch him whirr away. maybe he prints things.#stands at a water cooler and makes awkward small talk.#I don’t know what happens in offices. what do I look like. I don’t think he does either really. he just likes the aesthetic#he’s constantly cosplaying and it makes all the other angels slightly uncomfortable like. Okay Zach We Get It. This Is Your Businessman OC.#Can We Please Go Back To Talking About How To Stop Castiel From Breaking Containment For The Fifth Time This Month.#(my integration of old and new angel rebellion canon is per s5 all angels have the capacity to rebel. and many do. often. and are punished#for it. and also per s8 Cas just does it the most because he is so sooo annoying <3#also maybe because a combination of factors like. Anna is his boss for a lot of that time and she goes lighter on the reprogramming because#she’s already having doubts. and then also he’s paired with Uriel always. they make each other question things. but they also work#too well together for Heaven to separate them. the cost isn’t so high (yet) just toss them in the brain cleaner after each assignment#and they’re still useful.)#sorry this was supposed to be about Zachariah.#his enclosure has fax machines in it. he likes them. you know. the same way most angels like radio towers. he *likes* them.#spn#Zachariah spn
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pepprs · 2 years
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cringe btw. fail a little bit as well
#purrs#not really happy with how i showed up and navigated situations and circumstances today. i think i was not as kind or respectful as i could h#have been. and there’s nothing i can do but live with it and try to do better tomorrow. but this shit is so fucking hard and horrible. this#is not what i thought i was signing up for. this is not how i thought this month would go. and i know it’s normal and natural and whatever f#for like. every aspect of this process to be happening (and yet also cringe and stupid etc) but i just wish it wasn’t happening. i don’t#want to be responsible for planing your fucking goodbye gift i want you to stay. i don’t want to fucking go on a walk with you (i mean i#quite literally do LOL but) i want to keep yearning for i and working towards asking for it naturally and not in wretched circumstances. i#don’t want to have responsibility for all the tasks and people coming into the office and giving me knowing and pitying looks and asking how#this is going and meaning both me starting something and you leaving i want the whole you leaving part to just not even be a thing. i know I#it could be worse i know it’s fucking stupid to be addressing my literal actual supervisor as ‘you’ in the tags of a tumblr post she will#never read but it’s like fucking hell. i care about you so much. this has been a nightmare and i want it to be over but it won’t be ever. an#and i have to live with this somehow and i know it will feel better but for now im just fumbling through it and hurting and suffering and it#like doesn’t even matter. idk. the timing just hurts. it really does. as does the whole thing. idk when i’ll stop being hurt but i am hurt#delete later#i think i said this but i literally have to get assigned a fucking ‘cultural contact’ bc she’s leaving and can’t guide me thru this like i#always dreamed she would. the literal actual slap in the face of it.my heart hurts lol#it’s not just work also. like i know i am a freak about work on the dash but it really is not just work. or it is but it’s like. idk. ugh i#feel so trapped in this i fucking hate it and everyone is gonna tell her / me / us / whatever that this is good and normal and expected and#we’ll be okay etc but it’s NOT. it WON’T. we’re family or something like that and she’s leaving it and me and * are sobbing and * is like ha#having to be strong for us bc both of us are mentally ill wrecks over it and i know he is too and it’s killing me and meanwhile * just fucks#off across the country and we only see her TWO more times???? are you kidding me? LOL! like you just leave? lolllllll. after everythinggggg!#which she’s entitled to do. but it’s like. i thought we all understood… but apparently we weren’t on the same page. and now we’re here. LOL#anyway i am not being any less cringe or fail by continuing to post about this to redacted number of ppl but idk how else to cope. gn lawl#one more thing my heart hurts sooooooo bad. like physically. that is just sick in the head. wtf
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luveline · 6 days
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hotch's little sister x spencer perhaps?
—Hotch’s sister graduates college, and Spencer is immediately smitten. fem, 1.6k
“She’s pregnant.” Emily shakes her bag of chips around. “But it’s not his baby.” 
Spencer frowns down at his sandwich. Rye bread is hard to cut, and the plastic knife isn’t putting up a good fight. “That’s awful,” he says. “He must be heartbroken.” 
“He’s distraught. Now he can’t decide if he wants to stay and raise the new baby with their first, or leave her and have split custody.” 
“What channel did you say it was on?” 
“It’s on NightDrama. I’ll find out the number.” 
Emily folds the empty packet of chips into a rectangle, then that rectangle into a triangle, folding the edges inside of a fold to create a parcel perfect for flicking at him. Spencer waits for it, tensing, but what he sees behind Emily steals his attention. 
She whips her head to follow him. 
You are, as Spencer watches you walk in, without a doubt one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen. And it’s not like you’re a model, you don’t walk with any such confidence, but it strikes him immediately. You’re pretty. And he’s never seen you in the office before. 
They get visitors occasionally but the majority of people so deep into this office would've been checked at security and cleared to come up here. You hold a visitors badge in your hand, which you promptly clip onto your shirt when you see people looking at you. Your frown makes you prettier. Something about the way you stand seems familiar, but Spencer can’t put his finger on what it is. 
“Should we go help?” Emily asks. 
“Who do you think she’s for?” Spencer asks back. He’s thinking you’re here to speak to JJ. They have people like this occasionally who JJ knows from past cases, drifting in on a hope that there’s more detail to be found. 
Emily stands up from her chair. Spencer follows suit. When you see her facing toward you, some of your apprehension melts into relief. 
“Hi,” you say breathily, summoning a smile that, again, seems familiar. Not in looks, but practise, maybe. 
“Hi there, can we help? You look lost,” Emily says. 
She sounds more friendly than Spencer could’ve hoped to achieve. He doesn’t even wanna think about it, from how pretty you are he would’ve stumbled over even the most basic hello. 
“I’m here to see Aaron Hotchner. He told me his office is up the stairs, is that still one of these ones,” —you nod gently at the stairs that do, in fact, lead to his office— “or somewhere else?” 
“That’s the right one, the very first door.” 
“Okay,” you give a soft laugh. “Thank you. This place makes me nervous.” 
You leave to travel up the steps. Emily and Spencer watch without any casualness as you approach Hotch’s office door, and give a little knock. 
It’s more surprising to see it tugged open so quickly after. Hotch usually says, “Come in.” 
“Oh, you’re here,” Hotch says. It’s to Spencer’s shock and Emily’s clear joy when he leans in for a hug. The bearhug kind, no politeness or manners about their intimidating boss as his arms cross behind your shoulders and he pulls you in. “You’re late.” He squeezes you. 
You let it happen. “I hate your building.” 
“What the hell?” Emily whispers. 
“I’m so happy to see you. Come on, come in, I ordered lunch for us already.” 
Emily is shameless. She takes Spencer by the wrist and encourages him to the wall below Hotch’s office as he ushers you inside. The door remains ajar, perfect for snooping, and Spencer doesn’t know what it is but he lets Emily drag him forward anyhow. 
“If that’s his girlfriend, he should be ashamed,” Emily whispers. 
Spencer raises his brows. “Did you think that was romantic?” 
“I’ve never seen him show affection to anyone who wasn’t Haley, and when was the last time she was here?” 
Spencer tosses it around in his mind. Sure, it was quite affectionate by Hotch’s standards, but the hug was so… uncareful. He’d grabbed you and hugged you like he was gonna shake you around for fun, like a dad hugs his daughter. “How old is Hotch?” Spencer asks. 
“You don’t think that’s his secret kid.” 
“No,” Spencer says, though he sort of does. 
Emily gestures for him to hush as your laugh drifts down from the office. “You did?” you’re asking. “It’s so nice to be home.” 
“Of course I did. It’s like I promised, okay? You finished college like I asked you too, you’ve done so well, and now I’m gonna make sure you’re happy. Like I tried to do for Sean.” 
“Sean,” you sigh. “He didn’t even answer my grad card.” 
“I don’t know what to say about him, I really don’t.” 
A small pause. “Well, at least you answered.” 
“You know I would’ve come to watch you walk–”
“But you couldn’t. It’s fine, Aaron, I wasn’t really expecting you to make it.” 
“I’m sorry. Really. And I’m proud of you, after everything.”
“Thank you… The bag was better than you being there anyways. Coach?” You laugh breathily. “My friends keep asking me if you can be their big brother too.” 
Emily and Spencer turn to each other, mouths agape, Emily slapping his arm as they struggle to make no noise. Since when does Aaron have a sister? A young sister freshly graduated? 
Hotch laughs too. “Come and sit before your lunch gets cold.” 
Emily gets out her phone to text Morgan, she and Spencer pressed to the wall with their heads ducked. Hotch is a total enigma, because what the hell sort of secret is that?
When Morgan appears, it’s with all the answers. He rolls his eyes at their clear position of eavesdropping but leans against Emily’s desk to give them the information they’re craving anyways. “She’s adopted. Hotch was already in college at the time, but they’re close. They get along a lot better than Hotch does with Sean, that’s for sure.” 
“He sounds protective,” Emily says, side-eying the office. 
“Look, it’s not my business, but I just know it was bad when she was a teenager. Hotch is a drill sergeant for a reason.” Ah, Spencer thinks. The Hotchner father. 
Spencer picks at his hands. It explains the conversation he shouldn’t have been listening to, to a degree. He feels the guilt of knowing something he wasn’t meant to like a sodden weight, retreating swiftly to his desk and his forgotten sandwich.
It’s nice to hear Hotch laughing, but it’s your laugh that draws him in again while he tries so hard not to listen. It’s as attractive to Spencer as your frown had been when you walked in. He thinks about how you finished college, how you’re here, and he wonders if he’ll see more of you —how often will you come in for lunch? Spencer checks his hair in his sleeping monitor and feels like an idiot. 
“I’m sorry,” Hotch says a little while later, elbowing open the door with his back to the office, “we’ll have dinner soon, honey, I promise.” 
You reach up to give him another quick hug. “It’s fine. It’s just nice to be in the same city again.” 
Hotch guides you down to the bullpen with the same pride with which he introduced Jack. It’s unmissable, the love he has for you in just one touch against your shoulder. “Y/N,” he says, pausing at the bullpen, “Derek Morgan you’ve met. This is Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid.” 
“Spencer Reid?” you ask suddenly, looking up into Hotch’s face like he’s lying, your brows pulled together in indignation, before you turn back to Spencer reverently. “You’re Dr. Spencer Reid?” 
He gets caught on his own breath. “Uh, yes?” 
“The Dr. Spencer Reid who wrote Methods of Continued Fraction Expansions?” 
Spencer feels heat like a kiss to each cheek. “Yes.” 
You turn to Hotch with a suspicious pout. “When I told you about the paper I was reading by a Dr. Reid a few months ago, you didn’t stop to think it could be your Dr. Reid? Or you just don’t like me?” 
That’s a sister’s scorn if Spencer’s ever heard it. 
“I thought you said Rain.” 
“I don’t think you did.” You turn back to Spencer. “I can’t believe it, I emailed you about Jacobi elliptical functions, you were so helpful, I owe you my degree.” You put your hand out with a beaming, beautiful smile, Spencer’s stomach totally flips. “It’s amazing to meet you in person.” 
He’s a germaphobe, he is, and that doesn’t just go away when you meet someone lovely, but he shakes your hand. You surprise him too quickly to think beyond taking your hand letting it happen. You’re, like, glowing. 
Hotch gives him a funny look. Mostly impassive, but not quite. 
Spencer abruptly lets you go. “I don’t think you would’ve needed my help to get there in the end. You clearly knew what you were doing.”  
Hotch’s eyebrows silently rise. 
You turn back to Hotch again, your smile catching. “I like your friends.” 
He smiles. “Let me walk you down to the lobby, honey.” 
You let him guide you away, giving the present members of the BAU a wave with just your fingers before you go. 
Morgan and Emily look at him heavily. “Spencer,” Emily says. “What was that?” 
He doesn’t want to say what he thinks it was, so he doesn’t. “She was nice.” 
Morgan’s laughter is immediate. Spencer has to walk off to the kitchen for a cup of tea he doesn’t drink to escape him and the connotation of his laughing. Spencer hopes he’ll see you again soon, though if he’s half a good a profiler as he thinks he is, he might end up in trouble with your brother.
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messylustt · 11 months
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can i plllllleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaase have a bubbly reader offering miguel a hug (as a joke bc hes grumpy) and he says no at first but later on when hes rlly upset abt whatever he puts his pride in his pocket and asks for one??? i know tht man is touchstarved a good hug might fix him
wait shut up. this is adorable :((
A HUG? — miguel o’hara + reader: everyone knows that your bubbly nature offers everyone hugs. but no one expected miguel to accept one.
marks fluff. that’s literally it. maybe a bit of angst. wc 1.5k.
pt one. pt two. pt three.
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“and why are you so grumpy?” you slid across the bench, as miguel sat, minding his own business and eating. he doesn’t spare you a glance as you just rested your hands on your elbows, tilting your head with a smile.
“what is she doing?” gwen asks, from her farther seat, next to hobie, pavitr, miles, and (occasionally) peter. they are all staring at you and your bubbly nature.
“ah, let her figure out how antisocial he is.” peter shrugs, adjusting mayday’s spider beanie.
“i think she already knows.” miles says.
“that’s probably why she’s over there. to “cheer” him up.” pav adds.
“good luck with tha’” hobie lightly chuckles, resting back against pav as he swings his legs up, watching what he’d call a “show”.
“you look like you could use a friend.” you say, finally making miguel look at you. his expression was the definition of ‘indifferent’. your smile didn’t fall. “or maybe an acquaintance you can talk to?”
miguel’s expression doesn’t shift. you nod. “imma have you figured out soon…i promise.” your eyes slightly narrow in an inspection of him. then he turns back to his food.
“it’s going well.” pav sarcastically comments back at their table, making hobie scoff.
“you know…” you say, fingers lightly tapping the table. “there’s things that can help with being moody.”
“i’m not moody.”
“ah huh!” you softly cheer. “you spoke. progress.”
miguel looks exasperated as he shuts his eyes. He just wanted to enjoy his empanada.
“but you wanna know what will help?”
“i’m not…moody.” he repeats a little slower, to make sure you heard.
“yeah you are. but it’s okay. cause you wanna know what will help?”
“you clearly want to tell me.” miguel breathes out.
“mhm.” you smile. “a hug.”
miguel shifts his gaze to you, blinking a few times.
from the farther table, the spider gang is still thoroughly invested. “oh shit, he looks annoyed.” miles comments.
“what do think she said?” gwen asks, resting against the table.
“tha’ he looks like a wannabe gangster.” hobie says, now rocking his leg slightly back and forth as he watches.
“a hug would help. it helps me.” you are saying, still staring at miguel, smiling.
miguel clicks his jaw, before he’s standing, muttering to himself.
“let me know!” You call to his leaving form with a chuckle.
;;
later that night miguel is pacing his office, just back from a mission that went terribly. The anomaly got away. and miguel is beating himself up inside. how could he let that happen?
you’re walking down HQ’s hallway, looking for something you had dropped. as you scanned the floor, you hear muttering that reminded you of earlier today. miguel.
you stopped by his slightly cracked open office door. you carefully knock. miguel swings it open, sighing upon seeing you. “now’s not a good time.”
you smile. “don’t worry. i just want to ask if you’ve seen a pen.”
“a pen?” miguel’s brows furrow.
“mhm. i lost it.” you reply. “you look stressed.”
“i’m not—“ he takes a deep breath. “i'm fine. and no I haven’t seen your pen.”
“no worries.” you begin to back away. “let me know if you see it though. it’s got a weird blue design on it.”
miguel’s mind is whirring for some reason, as he finds himself calling for you to stop and turn back around. “did you mean it?” he muttered it so quietly that you almost missed it.
you’re now walking back, eyeing him. “mean what?”
miguel’s tongue pokes out against his cheek, feeling his entire body drenched with exhaust and self pity. and putting his pride away he says “a hug.”
“a hug?” your smile has widened. “i thought you weren’t moody?”
“i’m not. i just— you know what forget I asked.” miguel goes to turn away feeling stupid, but then you’re reaching forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, with a smile.
at first miguel doesn’t know where to place his hands, but you stay put, just resting your body against his, as your cheek slightly squishes up against his shoulder. then miguel slowly—very slowly—wraps his arms around your midriff, and hugs you back.
miguel doesn’t what to admit that his body has instantly relaxed upon feeling yours against his. your hand had begun to softly soothe the top of his back. just drawing in slow circles, that makes his muscles stop their tensing.
and that hug wasn’t the last time it happened.
now miguel would secretly search for you. big on the ‘secret’ part though, because he can’t have anyone else knowing he likes to hug you. no that would cause too many implications and destroy his well thought out ‘in control’ demeanour.
so when he’d find you walking alone—something he noticed you did a lot. and after he’d make sure that you were both in a desolate enough place, he’d softly grab your arm, pulling you somewhere even more desolate before he’s wrapping his arms around you in a much needed hug.
you didn’t mind. hugs had always been your love language with family and friends alike. though you were surprised by how often miguel would now seek you out, just so you could rest your head on his shoulder and draw patterns on his back.
he claimed it was just for relaxation and that you shouldn’t have offered him a hug if you would’ve asked so many questions. so you let him, his own hand having gradually drawn its own patterns on your waist.
he liked hearing and feeling your breathing. your breath by his ear sent almost cleansing shivers through him. and the feel of the rise and fall of your chest against his own made his usually racing heartbeat calm down to match with yours.
he liked the calmness your body gave him. and deep down he knew he now craved it.
;;
you were all in a different universe. gwen, miles, pavitr, hobie, peter, mayday, miguel and you. jess had to take care of another mission so miguel very clearly claimed how he’s stuck with you all, his scowl very present.
it was midway through trying to catch this anomaly when miguel’s gaze gets caught up in a man and his child. and as you stopped, noticing his focused gaze first, you identified the man and child as miguel and his daughter.
you didn’t know much about miguel’s daughter. just that in his universe she had died. and now as miguel watches a variant of himself with a variant of his daughter he can feel his body tensing.
he’s never had the misfortune of seeing variants of his family before. and now really wasn’t the time to dwell and sink deeper into his mind but he just can’t help it.
“is he okay?” whispered miles to peter.
peter shakes his head. “but there’s nothing we can do about it. no one can take him out of episodes like this.”
because everyone could see that inside miguel was fuming, so close to exploding that everyone had almost taken a step back.
you stared at miguel, watching as his chest heaved with a racing heart.
you remember one time he had muttered to you, head in your neck. you weren’t sure if you were actually meant to hear it or not. but he had said how your breathing slowed his breathing. or something along those lines. because after he had said that he had drawn you in tighter, keeping his large hands around your body.
so now you edge closer. and this could be a terrible idea, you realise that. your friends seem to as well.
gwen hisses your name quietly, watching as you edged closer to the ‘beast’ or how everyone else was treating him like.
you all needed miguel to focus to capture this especially dangerous anomaly. you couldn’t have him trapped in his mind teetering on the edge.
so you continued to walk forward, and as everyone stared in shock, you carefully wrapped your hands around his neck in a hug. you did so very lightly, to give him any room for rejection. you were actually waiting for the rejection.
but then, to everyone’s shock, miguel wraps his arms around your waist, just like every other time. and he’s found you fit against him so nicely, it felt so comfortable. your heartbeat was against his now, and the slower tempo made miguel sink into your neck, his arms now engulfing you.
shocked now isn’t a big enough word. because you were hugging miguel. and it wasn’t the ‘you’ part everyone was surprised by. it was the ‘miguel’ part. he was clearly eager to hug you back, and they all watched as miguel practically became putty in your hold.
yes. miguel craved your hugs now. and there was nothing you could do to stop him from bringing you in and keeping you close. you were now his comfort and he a wasn’t going to let that go so easily.
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© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
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tender-rosiey · 5 months
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how would modern day sukuna be like a father? :o
nerves — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
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a/n: no curses au, lovelies! thank you for being so patient MWUAH and of course, merry christmas to everyone who celebrates it!
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when one thinks of sukuna, one thinks of a broad muscular man covered in tattoos with a sharp jawline and an even sharper tongue punching the hell out of anyone.
you never think of the same man carrying a pink glittery bag and his own little pretty princess.
“do you have your lunch box?”
“yup!”
he quirks an eyebrow, “you sure?”
your daughter nods excitedly before looking over her dad’s shoulder. she grins when she finally sees you and excitedly calls you over, “mama! ‘morning!”
a smile instantly appears you on your face as you make your way towards your little sweetheart, “good morning, baby!”
you take her into your arms—ignoring your husband—and you kiss her cheek, “you excited for your first day of school?”
“mhm!” she gasped suddenly, “mama, look at my hair! papa made it for me!” she giggles, proudly showing off her ponytail.
you look with a knowing look and a small smile at your husband.
sukuna frowns and looks away, “it was easy anyway,” he then glares at you, “don’t make a big deal out of it.”
you giggle and pad your way towards him, resting your arm on his shoulder and gently kissing his lips, “it’s a really cute deal, though.”
you lightly bounce your daughter in your other arm, “right, d/n?”
“yeah! papa is the best!” she cheers, hugging him tightly.
your husband groans, but—nonetheless—his arms are wrapped around you two, “you two are such drama queens.”
he leans slightly, mouth near your ear as he whispers, “you better give me a proper fucking kiss when we drop the brat off.”
you gasp lightly and smack his shoulder, “watch your language!” you watch him scrunch his face—most likely about to sass you—so you press a quick kiss to your daughter’s cheek then your husband’s.
you then push them through the door with a nervous smile, “okay, bye! have a great time and don’t forget that mama loves you!”
“I love you too, mama!”
of course, you would’ve loved to accompany your daughter to school, especially on her first day, but the darn office just happened to call for you right now.
sukuna knows that, and so does your cute daughter, so there is a reason why they were both so reluctant to leave.
anyway, back to the present.
your husband’s frown is still evident as he is robbed yet again from a ‘proper’ kiss. he picks your daughter up easily and then throws her in the car.
she, as always, finds it funny and starts laughing her little butt off. sukuna rolls his eyes, and gets into the car himself.
he puts on the playlist that your daughter made herself, and finally starts the car. the ride is quiet, if you don’t count the singing and screaming of your daughter.
of course, sukuna can’t do anything about it—even if he knows that he doesn’t want her to stop in the first place.
the school isn’t that far away anyway, so they reach it in no time. your husband skilfully parks in front of the gate and takes his seatbelt off.
he doesn’t hear hurried unbuckling of a belt or nonstop squealing and fidgeting, so he looks at his daughter, “what’s up?”
she fidgets with the hem of her shirt then speaks up, softly, “I am—scared.”
he furrows his eyebrow, turning his entire body towards her, “huh? why? you were so excited with your mom earlier and you were screaming my ear off about it yesterday.”
“I know,” she murmurs then frowns, “…but what if people don’t like me?”
sukuna is stunned for a moment. he isn’t the one to normally deal with your daughter whenever she needed deep or meaningful emotional advice.
that was what you did, especially since you are able to read your daughter pretty well.
but he tries his best cause he would be damned if he isn’t the best father. his hand is placed on her head, albeit a bit roughly.
she whines, “papa, my hair!”
he takes a moment, “I…” he starts then quietens down for a second, and even then, you’re daughter is looking intently at him.
he then looks at her again, “they will love you. you’re a good kid."
your daughter’s eyes widen at her dad’s unfiltered compliment. she beams, quickly unbuckling her belt and throwing herself into his arms.
her smile is so wide it almost hurts her, but her heart feels so full because of her dad’s praise that she couldn’t care about anything other than him.
he slowly starts patting her head, “and if someone bothers you, I will just beat them up.”
“mama said no violence!” your daughter scolds and almost on cue, your face appears on the screen: you’re calling!
looks like you managed to squeeze in some time to check up on her. your daughter swiftly presses on answer and chirps, “hi mama!”
“hi baby! why are you not in school yet?” you question, eyes darting towards your husband, questioning.
“papa wanted to get some food first, so we just arrived!”
sukuna is—internally—flabbergasted. this liar. he is about to interject, but then he ponders about it for a moment: maybe she doesn’t want you to see her hesitant about the whole school thing.
maybe she wants to appear strong—with no weak points—in front of her mother. then he breathes out a chuckle, at least she takes after him in something.
“sukuna! she could’ve been late!” you huff then sigh, “good thing that you guys moved early anyway.”
your eyes then focus on your daughter, “how’re you feeling?”
“excited!”
“any nerves or anything?” you ask knowingly, but she shakes her head.
she hugs sukuna tighter, “I was a little nervous, but papa made me feel better!”
you grin, “did he now?”
he notices the teasing glint behind your eyes and looks away to avoid your gaze. your daughter giggles at her dad’s behaviour, and so do you.
and your husband has never felt more teamed up on than now. she hears the bell rings, “oh! I gotta go now!”
“bye papa!” she kisses her dad’s cheek, “bye mama!” then kisses the phone’s screen. you blow her a kiss back, and she dashes out of the car, ready to start her day.
even while walking towards the building, she turns again to her dad and waves at him happily.
sukuna nods and she grins, switching her focus back on the school. his focus is on her intently, until you speak up, “I am proud of you.”
his gaze snaps to you, expecting a teasing smirk, but instead you’re smiling warmly at him. his heart contracts in a way that makes him feel weird, and he can’t find it in him to give you a snarky reply.
he groans, “she is my daughter as much as she is yours, y’know.”
you hum, “of course, she is,” he hears rustling on the other line, so he assumes you’re checking some papers before turning to him again, “she takes after you in more ways than one.”
“yeah, I noticed,” he says quietly, and you laugh.
he notices from the corner of his eyes his daughter laughing excitedly with a bunch of others girls, and he lets out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.
you tap on your desk a little, “you nervous?”
“if someone hurts her, I will kill them.”
“I figured."
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