#but honestly it's a gift for myself included

[strawberryteabunny]

package arrived ૮ ෆ ´ ˕ ` ෆ ა ♡

[parab0mb]

THIS IS THE CUTEST SHIT EVER!

Edit: Probably obvious but not my art; its by @sylaride

[kar4mia]

"Happy BIRTHDAY! Here's your gift!"

Including: Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, Suguru Geto, Satoru Gojo, and Kento Nanami.

Relationships: GN! Reader x jjk men (separate)

Warnings ⚠️: Slight suggestiveness. But overall, pure fluff💗

Intro: Hii💗 Thanks so much for the appreciation of everyone. I didn't expect myself to be doing these. But now, I'm so in love. I like to support each other. So let us all do that. As it is suicide prevention month. A single positive message can help anyone in need.💝

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅TOJI FUSHIGURO⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅RYOMEN SUKUNA⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅SUGURU GETO⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅SATORU GOJO⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅KENTO NANAMI⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅CHOSO KAMO⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Outro: Haha. I honestly enjoyed this. Especially because of the fact that a lot of people buy gifts for their loved ones. As in my bio, you are all welcome. No judgement💝 I really wanted to add the jjk boys, but of course. The max pics are ten😭 I hope you all enjoyed this though.

[batwynn]

Just a heads up, something really messed up is going on with Joann (fabric/craft store) and I highly recommend you don’t order online from them. Multiple people, including myself, have placed orders, had the entire thing or most of the order canceled by the store the same day while claiming the items aren’t in stock. However, they will hold the amount of your order for a month, in PayPal’s case, and not actually cancel it. I have called, emailed, and texted all of their customer service lines and only got one text in response that was just… a lie?

Obviously, they should not be allowing people to order stuff that supposedly isn’t in stock to begin with, but they should also actually cancel the order and not let a chunk of your money sit in limbo or never refund it.

Additionally, the twenty something items I ordered (to make a gift for a friend and for some Patreon stuff) were all very different things and there’s no reasonable way every single item was out of stock. And then they lied and said it was a payment issue:

When I spoke to both my bank and PayPal they said everything is up to date and perfectly functioning.

I honestly can’t tell you what, exactly is going on. But something is. And it’s bs. And I would highly recommend you find another source for crafting supplies if you can.

[ewreckedshin]

Aventurine x reader ~ cat cakes [caked up cat]

Description: Ruan Mei has been working on a special creation, one that can help her create a sentient life through... indirect means. She gifts one of these products to Aventurine, a wealthy buyer who purchased 3 of her normal cat cakes. Aka I've made yet another plot to insert cat-girl sex

WC: ~2k

Warnings: NSFW, mostly smut, honestly long overdue, tempted to buy the pajamas in that art just so I can pretend Aventurine is gonna spawn in my room at some point then I can give him the clothes to wear, unedited

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Head swirling after his encounter with Sparkle, Aventurine was not in the mood to answer the knock at his door

Nevertheless, he lazily swings open the door, masking his annoyance with a forged smile

It was a young delivery guy, who was so intimidated talking to Aventurine of the ten Stonehearts that he immediately set down the boxes and ran off after muttering a rushed introduction

Ruan Mei, the seller he bought from, had left him a note on one of the boxes

Dear Aventurine,

I am pleased that you have taken an interest in my experiments. For your multiple purchases, I have included an extra product in one of the boxes. This one is quite “special” as it is able to maintain a human form for certain activities. It is my gift to you, but you are also doing a service for me by testing out my newest experiment.

With gratitude,

Ruan Mei 

Shutting his door, he muses over the contents of the letter

He first unboxes the regular cat cakes, smiling at the irony in front of him

“Black cats, huh? Are you little ones going to balance out my great fortune?”

He then opens the special package…

To find nothing but you, another black cat nestled within a pastry case, blinking your eyes cutely at him 

“Don’t see what’s so different about this special product”

He gently lifts you out of the box, and you discover that his slim pretty fingers are calloused despite their manicured appearance

“Can you speak?” 

You sink your fluffy body into his hands, enjoying the feeling of dangling from a pretty boy’s arms.

“...Meooow.”

He shook his head, blond hair falling into his pretty eyes as he chuckled at his own question. “Of course you can’t, what a silly question.”

He fondly pets your head and scratches behind your ears, causing you to trill out musical purrs at the sensation

Aventurine collapses on his luxurious bed and scoops you onto his chest

You could hear a soft vibration in his chest as he spoke, making your small body buzz from the movement

“Sometimes it seems like the more luck I bring to myself, the worse the situation around me is. Almost as though there’s a limited amount of luck in this world and I’m taking it all for myself”

Curiously, you knead your paws into the silky material of his black pajamas

He simply stares at you with an empty smile on his face, a touch of something vulnerable underneath his practiced expression.

He closes his eyes and presses his forehead to your smaller furry one. Up close, you could see dark circles under his eyes. He was beautiful, despite his face being the picture of fatigue

“To be special…”

He trails off at the end of his sentence and loosens his embrace on your body

Soon the room was entirely silent save for the quiet breaths that escaped his parted lips

You stretch out your limbs and nimbly pull yourself out of your cake shell, stopping to stare at his closed eyelids. Cattish eyes followed the movement of his breaths and a subtle flutter of his lashes revealed something wet sliding down his cheeks

You wanted to call out to him, to just do something to console the sleeping man

Simultaneously, a familiar burning sensation spread within you, one that occurred whenever you were within proximity of a human for long enough

Almost as though it was nature’s alarm, reminding you of the reason for your creation

You nimbly pull yourself out of your cake shell and shift into your human form

Fully naked too (why would there be clothes?)

Aventurine lets out a small grunt from your sudden change in weight but remains asleep

Flipping yourself around, you sit your cute butt on his chest and crawl your upper body under the covers, hands clumsily fumbling around to find your target

You hear your destination before you realize it; as your fingers brush against a bulge, a muffled surprised gasp vibrates from his chest against your bare pussy 

The heat within you continues to grow as you squirm and squeeze your thighs around his shoulders to quell it. 

Your eyes tear from frustration when you’re unable to figure out the strange human contraption that blocked you from his waiting cock

You rest your head on his muscled thigh and mouth his clothed bulge, wishing that you weren’t so dumb and useless

Low moaning noises rose from the man behind you, which you were taught was a good sign 

You give his dick kitten licks and sloppily drool all over his expensive pants as you mimic sucking motions 

Subconsciously your hips buck into his chest, rubbing your slick into his heated skin above the unbuttoned part of his shirt

All the while your tears continue to fall from your face, feeling unfulfilled from not completing your purpose

You were so focused on your task that you failed to realize the man behind you had awoken

It wasn’t until you felt a hand roughly pulling your hair back that you squealed in surprise, teary eyes meeting an angry bright pink

“I knew it. Everything about that letter was weird.” 

You were resting awkwardly, limbs twisted as you stared up at him with wide, unsuspecting watery eyes. The room was silent as you held your breath out of fear of upsetting him

Too focused on the feeling of betrayal, Aventurine ignores your innocent pleading gaze and pins you to the headboard

“Don’t play dumb with me. What is your actual purpose here?” 

You nervously squirm in his hold, legs still wrapped around his waist. He’s glaring at you but you can see the flicker of his eyes from your face to your bare chest, as well as the still hard bulge pressing against your pussy

“I said,” he hisses. “State your purpose.”

Tears begin to fall from your face, afraid that you’ve let him down. He seemed slightly startled at your tears but didn’t remove the dirty look from his face. Why was he looking so angry even though he was displaying all the correct signs of arousal?

You try your best to decipher his sentences; you only know one word that a pretty brunette lady had mentioned multiple times while training you with various men

“Purpose” you echo his words, before shifting your hips and attempting to grind down on his dick. “Purpose…”

You hold his gaze, hoping to communicate with him through action

Despite his anger, Aventurine was a smart man and figured you must be referring to… explicit activities

“I see. So this is what she meant by ‘experiment…’” 

His eyes glaze over as you watch him get lost in his thoughts; of what this meant, what to do next

Displeased, you squeeze your bound arms out of his hold and grip his shoulders, whimpering as you press your sensitive pussy on his hardness

Aventurine felt conflicted; on the one hand, he disliked being deceived

On the other hand…

“Oh god,” he groans as your heat catches on the clothed tip of his dick

On the other hand, it had been a long time since he last felt the warmth of a woman, nevertheless one who was seemingly so eager to please him

But he knew this was wrong. This was an artificially made creature after all, not even a real person

Still he felt a twinge of sympathy for you as you probably had no choice in your behavior

And he knew what it was like to be in the unknown

He listens to the good of his conscience, gripping your plush thighs and pulling you onto his right thigh instead, ignoring the protest of his aching cock

Gesturing toward his thigh, he guides you to move your hips

“You can use any other part of me to satisfy yourself. I’ll… find some way to return you to your creator afterward”

He knew you couldn’t understand a word he said and if he were being honest with himself he was simply rambling to fill the space, poorly concealing the fact that his pretty eyes were glued to the movement of your wet pussy on his silk pants

Confused, you let out a soft cry and move to paw at his dick, only for him to firmly grasp your wrist and pull you back

You couldn’t understand why he was refusing to have you, this had never happened before

The soft cloth of his pants and firm muscle underneath provided enough friction to satisfy you temporarily

It wasn’t enough, but if it was all you could have…

You give up trying to reach for his cock and instead hump his thigh needily, mewling each time your clit pressed into the muscle of his thigh

Aventurine swallowed hard and nearly gave in as your pussy grinds a little too close to where he wanted it

He watches you with half-lidded eyes, and you swear that you see his eyes glowing for a moment

You let out several gasps in a row, eyes rolling back as you felt your climax approaching

A part of Aventurine wishes that you wouldn’t finish, that you would need his help and beg so that it was you who initiates instead of him

But you let out a few more gasps, and came undone on his hard thigh, pussy clenching around nothing as you catch his cock twitching against his pants out of your peripheral

Panting, you fell against his chest but tears continued to fall from your dissatisfaction

Your walls ached for something thick and hard to fill it, and in that moment it felt like nothing in the world mattered but to fulfill that desire

And in a way that was true, it was all you were made for

“Need…” you whimpered out, gesturing to his cock. You didn’t touch it in fear of being pushed away, instead you communicated your want through eye contact and a single word

Aventurine’s internal conflict had begun to boil, and your desperate pleas were the tipping point 

“Alright baby, alright. You can have me” He gives in, shakily pulling down his pants with one hand while the other keeps you steady on his lap

You nearly drool at the sight of his cock, flushed and painfully hard, slapping against his shirt

“Just this once, yea? Once and that’s all” His voice is all raspy now, attention solely focusing on getting his needy cock into your slobbering hole. 

It was you who couldn’t even speak human, so why did he feel like he was the one about to be fucked dumb? 

Your ears flatten against your head as you felt the tip of his cock against your pussy, and the stretch itself nearly has you crumbling in relief

He clenches his jaw, biting back an ungodly moan at the feeling of your tight gummy walls clenching around his sensitive tip like a vice. He holds still so as to not cum with just the tip in you

You however, were impatient and wanted his cock now. With one swift movement, you sink down on his shaft, a layer of cream and juices forming at the base of his cock where you two were connected

Unable to help himself, Aventurine lets go of the bruising bite he had on his lips and moans a depraved, desperate noise

All thought of how wrong this was left his mind, and all that was left was a persistent echo that told him to fuck into your squelching hole

You had a purpose and you were on the way to achieving that 

The next morning, Aventurine is sleeping soundly with you cuddled up against him when he hears a ding from his tablet

Hello gambler, this is Ruan Mei

I do hope that you are not too angry with the surprise. I’m guessing that you aren’t too disappointed though, as you looked like you could use the extra company. She is the first creature I have made for the purpose of procreation; most of my creations lack this need as they are lab-raised creatures who do not need this function. Feel free to return the product if you were unsatisfied with its… performance.

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Disclaimer:

This is my first fic so uh sorry if he’s OOC >.>

Idk how people work

Or real sex

I just know that I’ve read way too many depraved fics and I need to make my own \(; - ;)\

I swear as I was writing this my thoughts were entirely drawn from prior fics I read and they all just came together to write this horny draft. IT’S LIKE I’M AI

Anyways have a lovely day :)

[queenofmistresses]

A Feyd x reader x paul

Where reader is Paul’s concubine and Feyd falls for her. And Feyd wants her as his Na-Baronness/Baronness and says something along the lines of “with Paul you are just one lady of many but with me you are the sole Na-Baroness”

part 1!!! splitting this up so I have some more time to write part 2! hope you like it!!

Paul Atriedes has multiple concubines, gifts from his father. When he was 15 I was ‘chosen’ to be one of his concubines. It wasn’t too bad to be honest, it is a safe position and role in the house. We each have our own rooms, we do not have to worry about food or clothes, and he is overall respectful of us. He does however, enjoy showing us off, especially during diplomatic events where other houses visit the planet or if he travels to theirs. Never all of us at once of course but he makes us get all dressed up when there are visitors even if we are not being paraded around with him, and he drags one of us around to all the events with him. It is tiresome but we really do have it better than we would if we had not been chosen for this role, we would likely just be servants otherwise, so we try not to complain.

This event is an unusual one. The Baron of Geidi Prime is visiting along with his nephews. It is rare for there to be direct communication between the houses, the Duke and the Baron not wanting to be around each other for extended periods of time despite the advantages of being allies. This time, they’re staying for a full week. From what I’ve overheard through staff as well as listening into conversations, if this event goes well then there will be more like these in the future.

On the first evening of their stay, the Duke holds a stupidly fancy social event for the members of the house and the guests. The poor kitchen staff have been slaving away to cook enough food, and the right food, to deal with the Baron’s greedy appetite. The diet of the Harkonnens’ is hard enough to prepare. I’ve offered to help where I can but it has still been a big effort for the staff. And I haven’t had much time myself with preparing for the event. As it is such a big event, Paul has planned to bring more than one of us, which has included me, so I’ve had to ensure I am dressed up enough. 

Honestly it is humiliating, being dressed up like a doll, to be property to a man. I don’t know how Jessica did it before the Duke fell in love with her. Though, she was able to wear her Bene Gesserit uniform and it would be considered rude to expect any different. 

I have always been fascinated by the Harkonnen culture, though my studies had to stop when I became property of Paul. Their traditions and their ways of ruling, their methods of training for battle, it is so vastly different from other houses I have studied or interacted with. I’m hoping that being shown off at this event would at least give me the chance to converse with the Harkonnen soldiers and learn more about their planet. 

Paul plans to enter with my closest friend, Helena, and me and a couple others will enter independently. I feel sorry for Helena, but I know she does not so much being dragged around as much as me. 

I arrive about an hour after the event begins, knowing it would be better than entering right at the start where there are less people. This way, people take less notice. I find myself a drink and move to the edges of the room, watching people interact and getting an idea of the guests. I’m aware of someone’s gaze on me, but it is a feeling I have become used to and choose to take no notice of it. My eyes find Helena and Paul and to my disappointment they spot me too. 

I watch him trail his eyes down me, I can’t help but feel disgusted by it. They begin to walk towards me and I attempt to plaster a grin to my face. Paul’s arm immediately reaches for my hips, pulling me into him as he continues to inspect me. “You look gorgeous,” he whispers, leaning close to my ears, “I can feel everyone’s jealousy.”

Truthfully, I’m not sure he can, half the time I can’t tell if he is trying to convince himself or me. Probably himself. He loosens his grip on Helena in favour of clinging onto me and encourages me to move further into the room with him. He doesn’t really speak to anyone, to my frustration, and his grip on my hip is ridiculously tight, like he’s expecting me to run at any minute. 

After a while we’re approached by a Harkonnen, he addresses Paul first, tilting his head down in a subtle, but polite, bow. Then he faces me and I realise who it is, the youngest nephew of the baron, na-baron Feyd-Rautha. He lifts my hand up to press a kiss to the back of it, “My lady,” he greets me. 

I tilt my head down and bring myself down to a slight curtsy, “My lord na-baron, it is a pleasure.” I have heard many stories of the na-baron, his impressive skills in the fighting arena, his cruelty to his servants, his cannibal concubines. It was intimidating, but strangely fascinating, as with much of Harkonnen culture. The idea that I was actually meeting him, and he seemed to be showing me some sign of respect, is unbelievably exciting. 

I watch the two men converse for a few short minutes before Paul says goodbye, forgetting about my presence and walking away from us to find something else to do. I feel quite awkward left standing with the na-baron, but he seems to be watching me quite intensely. I’m just about to excuse myself from the conversation when he starts speaking to me. “So you are one of his concubines?” He doesn’t seem to say it with any judgement or pity, which is unusual. So much so that I can’t help but let out a small chuckle. 

“Yes, I am.” I struggle to come up with anything more to say in response. He seems to watch my face for a moment when he hums. 

“Would you do me the honour of accompanying me to the balcony?” he indicates towards the doors subtly, “I would like to speak more with you but it is rather crowded in here.” I try to squash my enthusiasm at the chance of having a proper conversation with him, I wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea. 

“That would be lovely na-baron.” I bow my head slightly and let him lead the way to the balcony, and watch as he shuts the doors behind us. I lean against the railings and feel him stand next to me, looking ahead of us with me. 

After a short moment he starts to ask about life as a part of the Atreides household, watching me as if I was talking about the most important things. Somehow it feels easy to talk to him, as if we’re old friends. I work up the confidence to ask about his culture and life on Geidi Prime and he tells me about the rituals he does before a fight in an arena. It is odd, his stature is so sure and serious, yet at the same time he seems almost comfortable. 

We talk for what feels like hours but is probably only one, before I hear the doors open, breaking the bubble we’ve put ourselves in. Paul stands at the doors watching me for a moment before he requests my company - it’s not actually a request but it would be rude to just drag me away in front of other people. I turn to the na-baron and curtsy, thanking him for his time before taking the arm Paul has out for me to hold and letting him pull me away from the event. 

Over the week that the Harkonnen house is visiting, I find myself in the company of the na-baron again. I don’t know how it kept happening but he seemed to turn up any moment that I was not already preoccupied. He would offer to walk me to wherever it is I was going to next, or escort me on a walk around the gardens, and we would quickly find ourselves in various conversations. 

I found myself growing very fond of the na-baron, whenever I was on my own for more than a moment I would hope that we would bump into each other. And when we did, I would have to stop myself from grinning far too wide at his presence. Despite all of the stories I’ve heard, he never came across as frightening or unkind, in fact he’s listened to me ramble on about extremely mundane things many times and even seemed to enjoy it. 

On the last day of the visit, we take a walk around the garden together again, and I somehow find myself complaining about my situation with Paul. I can’t even remember what caused me to go down this tangent but before I know it I’ve been rambling for far too long. I grow self-conscious and stop myself from going further, “My apologies na-baron, I shouldn’t be complaining, I am luckier than some in my position.” I mutter out, staring at the ground below us as we walk. 

I hear him hum in thought beside me and come to a stop, prompting me to do the same. “I believe I understand, you feel… overlooked, like if you were gone then he wouldn’t care but at the same time trapped because you’re not allowed to leave despite that.” He seems like he’s deep in his thoughts but what he says explains it so well so I let myself nod at him. At my confirmation he hums again before continuing the walk. 

When we arrive back I go to thank him for escorting me but I stop when he looks as though he wishes to say something. “I would like to stay in contact after we leave your planet,” he says, not letting any emotions show on his face again. I let a smile show on my face at his request and nod. 

“I would like that as well na-baron, that would be lovely.” He nods and takes my hand, bowing down and pressing a light kiss to the back of it and I bow my head down in response. 

“Thank you for keeping me company during my visit, I will write to you when I return to Geidi Prime.” He promises before he walks away from me. I watch him go and let  myself feel the slight giddy feeling at the idea of continuing contact with him. 

[httpiastri]

more than enough – jmm21

you hate your birthday, but pepe is determined to change your mind.

genre: fluff/a little angsty/comfort

pairing: reader x college!pepe marti, ft christian mansell and sebastian montoya

warnings: uhhh anxiety and such ?? idk

word count: 2.6k

author's note: just like last year, this is merely a very self-indulgent birthday gift to myself (and a bit of a late birthday gift for a friend on here who confided in me about not liking their birthday either), so sorry if you don't relate but i needed to write this for myself despite how painful it was. not happy with how it turned out but, i had to get it out of my system. <3 (also not proofread because i will freak out likely aaaaa)

this is mostly a standalone fic but ig it kinda works as college!pepe so i put that there. i got this idea at my mom's birthday back in march but never actually wrote it until this last week... also loosely based on a tiktok that really spoke to me.

also! this doesn't really work with the headcanon of pepe, seb and chris all sharing an apartment, but i wanted it this way. i also wasn't comfortable including gaby or hermes, so i used the names nora and emma for seb's and chris's respective gfs. :)

"why didn't you tell me your birthday is next week?"

the question is innocent enough, only borderline accusing, but something tightens in your stomach nonetheless. you don't look up from the pot in your hand, however, instead continuing to scrub it with your dishbrush like it's no big deal. "who told you that?"

pepe chuckles as he makes his way over to your side, leaning against the counter as he looks at you. "emma," he tells you, crossing his arms over his chest. "going to answer my question now?"

"i must've forgotten to tell you."

"oh, come on..." your boyfriend shakes his head. "is there a reason i wasn't allowed to know? did i do something? do you not trust me? am i-"

"pepe," you say, his name followed by a sigh as you look over to him in hopes of stopping his rambling. "it's nothing personal."

"what is it, then?" he presses, eyes following your hands as they begin to rinse the pot he'd cooked your pasta in just a couple hours ago. "why don't you want to tell me?"

you take a deep breath, shrugging your shoulders before turning off the tap. "i just... i'm not a big fan of my birthday."

the biggest understatement of the year.

you hate your birthday.

for a number of reasons, really. some to do with your family and childhood; many to do with your own inner thoughts and feelings.

you hate how it reminds you of every bad birthday you had as a kid. you hate how it makes you hopeful that people will remember and congratulate you, because you hate how painful it is when they don't. you hate how you always get reminded of how little people seem to care, and how they always prioritize themselves even on what's supposed to be your day.

it's too much of a mess to explain to him right now – maybe, hopefully, one day you'll have the energy and courage to go through it all.

you hadn't forgotten to tell pepe; you had just been silently hoping he wouldn't address it, and that everyone else would forget, too. but apparently, you have a snitch in your friend group. "what do you mean?" pepe asks.

"i'd much rather not celebrate it." you place the pot on the drying rack, wiping your hands on your towel hanging by the stove before turning to him. "a lot of stuff regarding my birthday just makes me really upset. if i could, i'd just... make it disappear, honestly."

your eyes flicker to the floor, fingers nervously fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. he can tell you don't want to get into it, and he won't push you. instead, he opens his arms wide, taking a step forward. you accept the offer instantly, arms wrapping around his waist as he pulls you close.

the air in your little dorm room isn't as thick as you had expected it to be when telling him all of this – but at the same time, you aren't surprised. pepe has always had a way of grounding you, making everything seem a bit easier. "i can't make it completely disappear, i think," he says, placing his chin on top of your head. "but i can pretend for you."

you hum contently, letting your eyes close for a few moments. "that would be great."

he remains quiet for a couple of seconds, but then he can't stop himself from talking again. "do you really not want anything? no party? you threw me that party for my birthday, i'd feel guilty not doing anything back."

"i did it because you had a fun time and you like those things, and because i enjoyed planning it. but i was really hoping i could skip all that," you answer, pulling away ever so slightly to look up at him with a sheepish expression. "i would honestly rather have dinner with you, emma, nora, sebas, chris... maybe get some takeout from that new indian place down the road?"

to pepe's ears, you sound more than just a tiny bit crazy – but your being so different from him is one of the things that attracted him in the first place. he nods, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "whatever you say, love."

"where did your girl go?" emma asks the second pepe slumps into a free seat by the cafeteria table.

your boyfriend shoots a glance over his shoulder back to the serving line before setting his plate down. "they were out of rice so she's just waiting for a new batch," he says with a shrug.

"okay then, let's be quick before she gets here," emma speaks up again. "what are we doing for her birthday? it's just a few days away, but i think we can pull something off."

"me and seb were talking about throwing her a surprise party," nora says, looking over at sebastian who's nodding excitedly.

pepe, however, lets out a dismissive sound and swats the air with his hand. "no, forget about that," he says, stuffing a spoonful of pasta into his mouth. "she doesn't want any of that."

nora snorts. "what? of course she does."

"you know, pepe," emma counters, eyebrows raised at the spaniard. "every girl will tell you that she doesn't want a surprise party. don't bother, i don't care, you don't have to do all that for me! but in reality, we're all secretly craving it."

pepe considers her words for a few moments; maybe there is some truth in them after all. maybe all you did was try to act modest, to put the idea in his head so he would make the right choice.

but you weren't the one to bring up the subject – he was. he remembers clearly how you were doing your very best to avoid talking about your birthday at all, and the memory of how tough of a subject it seemed like to you is still etched into his mind. he thinks you were so brave to confide in him like that, and so he needs to stand up for you. he can't dishonor your trust.

"trust me, guys. she really doesn't want it." he ignores the groans of the people around him, taking a few sips of his water before continuing. "can't we all just grab some dinner on saturday instead? maybe that new indian place?"

"works for me," christian joins in. "how about presents, then?"

"right, are we all buying something together, or separate gifts?" emma fills in.

pepe shakes his head yet again. "i don't think she wants that, either." his words are followed by a long silence, which makes him unable to hold back a chuckle. "just paying for the food should be enough."

nora sighs dramatically, the palms of her hands pressing into the sides of her face. "and i'm supposed to just trust you, huh?" she asks and pepe merely shrugs, focusing back on his food. "hope you're not messing with us here, marti."

"i have no idea what he said, but he usually is," your voice spreads through the group as you finally take a seat at the table. "fill me in and i'll help you decide if he's just being annoying."

"i was just telling them about what mr. peterson said yesterday," pepe says quickly. "about what he'll do to everyone who fails the exam."

you throw your head back laughing, nodding instantly. "oh my god, that was hilarious. so, it started with someone on the front row asking about..."

pepe loves birthdays. his own, too, but mostly he finds himself looking forward to his friends' birthdays and longing to celebrate the important people in his life. he loves picking out gifts, planning celebrations, and making sure everything is perfect. it just comes naturally for him to be caring and detailed in that way.

but while pepe eagerly awaits your birthday, you couldn't even come close to feeling the same way.

most years, you spend the weeks leading up to your birthday dreading it, and the day of your birthday crying, because your birthday reminds you of everything you try to forget year-round.

pepe wants to make the day perfect for you, but he also obviously doesn't want to do too much. it's a hard task, but he's set on making it work – and the first step is getting a cake.

his first thought was to get you something huge, something to properly convey what he thinks you deserve and how much he loves you. though, it didn't take long for him to realize that something like that would be way too much for you. instead, he settled on a more basic yellow cake with some kind of white coating that the lady in the bakery recommended to him, and dropped by the grocery store near campus to buy sprinkles and a bunch of candles.

the end product is a little messy, but created with so much love, and pepe knows you're going to adore it. what he doesn't know is how he managed to keep you away from his refrigerator and the surprise hiding in it all night yesterday, but it doesn't matter – all that matters is that you're currently still sleeping soundlessly in his bed, with no clue of what's going on over in the kitchen.

pepe's hands are trembling slightly as he lights up the candles; he is a little nervous, he will admit, but he's also excited at the same time. he can't wait to see the look of surprise on your face, so he hurries up and places the cake on a tray along with two cups of coffee.

he silently curses at the way his bedroom door creaks when he pushes it open with his foot, but thankfully you don't move a single muscle. he carefully scoots over to the side of the bed, sitting down next to you and balancing the tray in his lap. he reaches over with one hand to your cheek, thumb tracing along your skin, fingers settling under your jaw. "mi amor," he whispers, a soft hum leaving his lips as he watches your eyelids slowly flutter open. "happy birthday."

it takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the sunshine lighting up the room, but when they do, they can't help but focus on him. the goofy grin on his lips, the messy hair, the-

the cake on his lap.

you push yourself up to sit in bed, rubbing some sleep out of your eyes. you're mistaken, surely? you're still half-asleep, you must've imagined it...

but no amount of blinking makes the cake disappear. the little flames of the candles swaying in the air, the single drop of stearic rolling down the side of a candle, the rainbow sprinkles sticking to the top and sides of the cake – it's all very real.

pepe was so sure this was the right way to go. but seeing the tears begin to seep out of the corners of his eyes makes him horrified. he messed up.

he knew the sprinkles would be too much. and that amount of candles, what was he thinking? he definitely went overboard.

"oh my god," he says, instantly placing the tray on the bedside table before scooting closer to you. "i'm so so so sorry, i thought you would like it... i don't know what i was thinking. here, let me-"

you shake your head as he begins brushing away your tears with his thumbs, and to his big surprise, you chuckle. "don't be sorry," you say, letting out another laugh when you see the confused expression on his face. "i do like it. a lot." you reach up to take his hands in yours, bringing them down to the bed and intertwining your fingers. "it's just... very emotional, for me. as you can see."

he also chuckles now, and he thinks he understands – even though seeing your happy tears is more painful than he'd expected. "okay," he says with a nod. "so..." his eyes flicker back to the cake.

"yes, please. i mean, what could be better than a sugar rush first thing in the morning?"

pepe would've been so happy to shower you with presents to express how much he loves you; it would've made him so proud to invite all your friends to a big celebration, to show you how much you mean to all of them, to change your idea of a birthday. but this – sitting together in bed, eating straight from the cake (no plates needed), pressing sugary kisses to each other's cheeks – is another form of perfect.

he just hopes you think it's perfect, too.

hearing you tell the stories of how you needed to bake the cake for yourself if you wanted one as a child, how you always made sure to buy yourself a gift because the risk that no one else would get you one was too high, and how you always needed to plan out your own parties breaks his heart – but hearing you open up like that also means the world to him. he understands that it's all buried so deep inside of you, but there's nothing he wants more than to help you heal and to prove that you can have much better and bigger birthdays than that.

but for now, a little cake in bed and a ton of kisses will have to do.

baby steps.

"chris, will you pass me the chicken korma?"

he leans over the crowded couch table and holds out the takeaway box to nora, who takes it into her hands and thanks him. "that one is really good," you tell her through your mouthful of bread, nodding to your friend.

"what's the verdict, then?" sebastian asks from his seat over on the couch. "i need a rating from the birthday girl, one to ten."

"food? ten," you say, taking a sip of your soda. "company? ten."

birthday? eleven.

the whole day has been much better than you'd expected; from your wake-up this morning, to the lunch date you shared with pepe over in town after a cute walk along the river, to having your closest friends all gathered in your living room for you. you don't even mind the way your buttcheeks are already starting to hurt after sitting on the floor for too long – you knew you should've invested in more seating for moments like these – because all of this is worth it.

"agreed," pepe chimes in from next to you. "especially about the food."

"speaking of which," says emma. "was there any bread left?"

you're quick to jump to your feet, already turning towards the kitchen. "garlic or plain?"

"ooh, garlic! thank you!"

pepe hurries off the floor right after you, making up some excuse about getting a new spoon for one of the sauces, but no one even bats an eye. you hear him enter through the door, and you smile instinctively. "how are you feeling?" he asks when he reaches your side, hand finding the small of your back as you rummage through the takeaway bag. "is this all enough?"

"it's more than enough. so much more." after pulling out the garlic naan from the bag, you reach up to the side of his face with your free hand, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone. "best birthday ever."

you seal your words with a feather-light kiss to his lips, and he's still smiling when you pull away. "you promise?" he asks, eyes searching through yours for any slightest hint of insincerity or uncertainty.

"i promise." another kiss, followed by a gentle hum, and he visibly relaxes. "thank you."

"no, thank you." for opening up, for letting him do all this for you. for existing. "only happy birthdays from now on, okay? i will make sure of it."

"it could never be anything other than a happy birthday with you around."

[chubsonthemoon]

Last Binderary book is DONE!!!! This is the incredible Maybe sprout wings, by @moorishflower.

This post is going to be a doozy, so gonna just skip straight to the cut!

INTERIOR

INTRODUCTION

I really wanted to model this bind after my own copy of the Odyssey, (which is all highlighted and bookmarked and annotated to hell from my Great Text courses in undergrad ehe, so this bind was such a fun trip down memory lane!). But beyond just the cover/general aesthetic, I also wanted to give the book a similar feel to these kinds of editions of classics--there's usually an introduction, translation notes, and other supplementary materials, right? Like, a physical manifestation of the work of many, many people, all having conversations with one another across time and space.

So that's what I did! I wrote a short introduction (I will also probably post it to my AO3/my blog as well, in the name of preservation etc. etc.) and began reaching out to folks in the fandom who I knew had created art and meta for the fic. The result? 18k words of analysis, comments, and meta, and nearly twenty pages of art!

And this is what I love most about this bind, I think! This book is the work of several people--truly a collaborative work by the fandom--all of whom I will now be shamelessly calling out below :D

CHAPTER HEADER ART

First and foremost, this book would not be what it is without the gorgeous header art by @fancy-rock-dove! Thank you so much Dove for letting include your work, and for being so supportive and kind these past few weeks about this bind <3 You in particular have contributed so much to this book (which I will be getting more into in the next section ehe), and I'm so psyched I get to hold your art and words, too!

NOTES ON THE TEXT

This section was divided into four parts: Asks and Answers, Meta, Selected Comments, and Chapter Heading Art: Process

For Asks and Answers, I trawled Heather's blog for meta she had written in response to questions and other meta about the fic. Asks came from @fancy-rock-dove, @quillingwords, @kulapti, and myself! (I THINK I got all of them--tumblr's search function is finnicky even on its best days, so so sorry if I missed something T_T) I first got hooked into reading this fic because of one of these asks, so I'm very fond of this section in particular :D

For Meta, I included two wonderful essays written by @pastrypuppy (also known as @kulapti) about Hob as an author figure and the Disrupted Fisher King narrative in MSW. Her analyses were so fascinating and I just had to include them in the book! (And thank you as well for your permission, friend!) (also hello fellow Renegade comrade 🫡)

For Selected Comments, I owe everything to (once again :3) @fancy-rock-dove, whose insights are the epitome of transformative fandom at work. I'd look for their comments after I read every chapter to see what their takes were on this or that element of the story, and every single time I would go "!!!!! I didn't even realize!!!" or "OOOOOOOH I hadn't thought of that!!" It was like being in a lecture hall and always whipping your head around when one of your classmates raised their hand, because you knew they were going to say something fascinating that you hadn't considered before.

Aside from one of my own comments, Dove's comments make up the entirety of this section (for which I owe you my life--your long-form responses to fics are a gift to this world) but GOSH was it also so much fun going through the comments section while typesetting and seeing all the keyboard smashing, yelling, and crying from the other commenters. Communal nature of storytelling and ongoing meaning-making of fanfiction, babey!

And finally for Chapter Heading Art: Process: once again Dove coming in clutch with some wonderful insights into the design of each of the chapter heading art pieces! This kind of stuff is honestly my favorite: meta about art for a fic which is, in turn, a transformation of an existing story (not even to mention that The Sandman is its own kind of fanfiction of existing mythologies and histories)--I just!! Think it's all really, really neat :'D (for more coherent/polished thoughts on this pls see my introduction asjdfkls)

ART

The art gallery!!! A million thanks to @fishfingersandscarves, @honeyseller, @jazzpsych, @doctor-rainbowfoxey, and (HI AGAIN DOVE) @fancy-rock-dove for granting me permission to include all of your beautiful pieces!

As usual for artworks in my binds, I printed each piece out on specialty photo paper to really make the colors pop, then sewed each page separately to the text block! Behold, everyone's beautiful beautiful pieces!

The art gallery also satisfies the certain "oooh shiny" part of my brain that always activates when I see pictures in a book, so am also very fond of this section :3

CONSTRUCTION

And now on to the nitty gritty stuff! I used the German Bradel binding technique again, my second time using it. Even though it's more complicated than the case bind, I really love how it gives you the full board space for the cover designs (~it's free real estate~). Keep it a secret but I kiiiiiiind of made a small goof in the last few steps (I did the turn-ins a step too early and so had to paste an extra sheet of cardstock to secure the spine to the boards, whoopsie), but it's a pretty small difference, aesthetically speaking, so it wasn't the end of the world XD

Edges are once again fake gilded, but this time I tried something new with the colors! I did two layers of acrylic paint--one watered down shade of red for the base, then one metallic gold on top of that. I really like the red/gold effect! I'll have to keep experimenting with this kind of layering:

ALSO. Y'ALL! I think I'm finally getting the hang of endbands!!! Many thanks to the folks at Renegade who hosted all the endband workshops last month--I'm still working through them, but even the few sessions I've seen have been TREMENDOUSLY helpful. I learned that tension is Very Important, as well as thread thickness, so I tried doubling my thread and keeping a Very Close Eye on how I was holding the threads while doing the beads. And behold! I still have a ways to go (and one day I would LOVE to do the fancier designs), but I'm v happy with the progress I've made so far!

And finally the covers!! ARCHIVAL MOD PODGE MY BELOVED. I printed on the same matte presentation paper that I used for the art, then did several coats of archival matte mod podge + a pass of gloss mod podge over the title strip to make it ~shiny~. Then once those had dried and I'd adhered them to the boards, I sprayed two layers of matte clear acrylic sealer (also mod podge!) to finish it off. I had some issues with the paper tearing when I handled it before it was fully dry, but luckily the blemishes were small enough that it was easy to do spot corrections with my black acrylic paint. And now I know to be more patient next time LOL

(some non-photoshoot shots that show the shine a little better!)

FINAL THOUGHTS

I had a lot of thoughts while I was binding this book--about Sandman fandom, about Dreamling fandom, about the Odyssey, about storytelling, about fanbinding, about Binderary, about Renegade, about my friends--but really what came to mind the most was gratitude!

Simply put, I'm so grateful to everyone I've met both in this fandom and throughout the years I've been active online--this is SO fun, y'all. It's so much fun to love stories together--to talk about them, to write them, and of course to bind them! I hope I've adequately conveyed that gratitude.

But of course, this book would not exist without the wonderful words of @moorishflower. Heather, thank you so, SO much for sharing your stories, thoughts, and time with us--it is always a happier, better day when I get an email notif from you and when I see you on my dash. I love your work so much, and I'm so happy I finally get to put it on my shelf! So thank you so much again, for everything <3

and OKAY THAT'S IT FROM ME FOLKS!!!!! Binderary 2023 is officially a wrap! I had SUCH a blast--will probably write up a reflection post on it uhhhh after I take a very long nap ajslkdfjslk _(:3」∠)_

all my love! <3

[pumpkin-writes]

being spoiled by rafe cameron would include...

i mostly wrote these for myself but please feel free to send any requests as they are open 🥰

SFW

- you never cared about rafe's money, but that doesn't mean he didn't constantly shower you in gifts.

- it's his love language. he always associated money with love thanks to ward, and the look on your face when he got you something was priceless to him.

- designer clothes, shoes, handbags, jewelry. no matter what it was, if you wanted it, it was yours.

- even if you didn't tell him you wanted it, he knew. if he caught you looking at something in the window of a store too long, he bought it. if you saw something in a tiktok video you thought was cute, he would find it and order it for you.

- rafe always makes sure to leave you money if you aren't going to be together. if he has to leave early in the morning and you're still in bed, you wake up to a text from him telling you to get some breakfast & a generous cashapp notification.

- same goes for hair and nails, he leaves you money for both once a week. money to fill your gas tank, money to pay your phone bill; it doesn't matter how much you need, rafe makes sure you're well taken care of.

- he loves to take you out. fancy restaurants, on boat trips, even surprise trips to luxury resorts and hotels.

- while spending money on you is his specialty, rafe spoils you in other ways too.

- he exclusively calls you by pet names, "princess" & "baby girl" being the two big ones. "pretty girl" is a common one too 🤭

NSFW

- rafe is a dom, that's that. but that doesn't mean he doesn't take the extra time to spoil you in the bedroom and make you feel special.

- he loves to buy you expensive lingerie, even if he knows you won't have it on for long. his favorite thing is to watch you try it all on for him until he can't help but rip it off of you.

- kisses. kisses oh my, kisses. this man will cover every square inch of your body with his mouth. he pays extra attention to what spots make you squirm and ache for more.

- for the most part, you're a pillow princess in this relationship but rafe honestly doesn't care. he likes being able to make you feel good while you just lay there crying out his name.

- loves going down on you. loves it. he loves the way you taste, the way you smell, the way you buck your hips when he licks and sucks your folds the way he knows you like.

- he won't stop until you're literally pushing him off of you, usually trembling from overstimulation and your voice weak from all the screaming. just the way he likes you.

[mrsshabana]

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ♡

I decided to take pictures of my collection since so many people asked! This is everything I've collected over the past two years. I'll give links for items that are still easily available. Also, please excuse how terrible these photos look. It took me over 3 hours to get everything out and take these photos, I was pretty tired and I was trying to figure out how to do it. I decided it'd be easiest to separate everything by type. And for some categories, I separate Gyutaro and Daki. The majority of these items are official merchandise, but I will make a note for items that are not official. (∩｀-´)⊃━��ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬

These are all of the large figures that I have! There was a new one that was recently released in Japan, and once I get it shipped I'll make a review about it. I got all of these figures from BigBadToyStore. Most of them are still available and a few are even on sale right now. I'd highly recommend their website! Out of all of these figures, I'd have to say the large one in the middle with Gyutaro using his blood demon art is my favorite.

𝐆𝐊 𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬

These are the garage kit figures that I own! None of these figures are official. The one on the right can be found super cheap on Amazon. I got this one from a good friend of mine. I'd say for how large it is it's definitely worth the price. The two on the left I got myself for my birthday. The one with the lantern even lights up, and it's definitely my favorite. You can still buy these, but only on eBay. The prices skyrocketed after I purchased mine, so I honestly can't recommend anyone buying them. They are just way too expensive now in my opinion. But here are the links anyway if you are still interested. Gyutaro lantern statue & Human Gyutaro and Ume

𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬

And here are the rest of the Gyutaro figures! I believe this is all of the ones that are currently released (except for the new one I mentioned earlier). A few of these are also available on BigBadToyStore. The one on the top left is one of my favorite items that I own. I've never seen him sold outside of Japan which sucks because he's absolutely adorable. The top middle one is really cool too because he comes with changeable arms and you can pose him in different ways - this one is also on sale on BigBadToyStore's website.

Here are the Daki/Ume figures! Most of these came in pairs with the Gyutaro figures so that's why I have a lot of these too. Again, most of these can be found on BigBadToyStore's website.

𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐬

Gyutaro plushies!! I don't know about you, but I am so obsessed with Gyutaro plushies. They make me so unexplainably happy. To be honest, all of them are my favorite haha. But if I had to choose, I'd say the teddy bear in the back. I also really love the Kitty Gyutaro on the left. The kitty Gyu, and the other Gyu doll on the right are not official. The one on the right was a gift from a close friend, it was custom made on Etsy. The Kitty Gyu was actually available on eBay (they are sold out now, but might restock later). I got mine elsewhere though. The human Gyu plush is also available on BigBadToyStore's website along with the Ume one. The little grabby Gyu's in the front right are some of my favorites too. I'll just clip them onto my laptop while I'm writing or drawing. I bought them from Amiami, they are out of stock now but I have seen them occasionally go on sale again.

And here are the Daki/Ume plushies! I got a few of them from AmiAmi with the Gyu ones, so they might come back up for sale eventually.

𝐀𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬

Sorry for the terrible photo, I tried my best to fit all of these into one picture. I didn't include the demon gathering diorama because that thing is way too big. It's so hard to pick a favorite for these ones. I love the holiday ones and the world tour one the most. Surprisingly these aren't often available outside of Japan. I have seen a few come up on eBay but they are usually overpriced. There are a few ones that I wanted to talk about because they are unique. Like the acrylic stand of the actor who played Gyutaro in the live-action play. I thought it was really cool that they made a stand for that. Also, the one where Gyutaro is seen fighting Tengen, it's hard to see in the photo but it has a lot of components to it that make it look 3D!

𝐊𝐞𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬

I love love love the Gytutaro keychains! There's a lot here so I won't ramble too much about them. My favorites are the kitty one on the top row, and the 2nd and 3rd one on the bottom row. Like look how cute he looks on his stomach like that, I swear that's the cutest pose I've seen them make for him. The kitty Gyu keychain was actually the first Gyutaro item I've ever bought! You might be able to find some of these on Mercari or on eBay.

And here are the Daki/Ume ones!

𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐬

I used to have an ita bag that I would fill with these pins! But it got really dirty, so if you have any you can recommend let me know 👀 Anyway here are the enamel pins. The only one that is still available is the large FiGPiN one. It's limited edition and they only made 1,000 of them. It was for an event in New York I think? Anyway, here is a link to where you can purchase one on eBay.

And here are the other pins. I don't have as many of these because they stopped fitting in my ita bag, but I'd totally get more if I had a large bag to fit them in.

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬

Ok so I had a ton of miscellaneous items, so this will be the biggest section. Some of my favorite items are here like the ring, necklace, and perfume. Apparently, the perfume is illegal to ship outside of Japan because it's flammable so I have no idea how I got it. But I got it as a gift in 2023. The ring is definitely one of my favorite items though, I've had it for a really long time now and I love the pattern on it. It's hard to see in the photo but one ring has a motif matching his spots and the other one matching his ribbons. If you want to see my full post on the ring and perfume I'll link them here. Ring & Perfume.

More miscellaneous items. The only one I'll comment on is that pink little box in the middle. It's a gachapon and it's actually functional too. It's the cutest little thing. I also really like the pens too, the little chibi drawings on the front are adorable.

These are just a bunch of random cloth items I have. My favorites are the Gyutaro tote bag and the Gyutaro underwear. Yes, I said underwear... yes it is official... I'll make a separate post about it another day 😭 On the right is some Tengen toilet paper, no that isn't official. It has a funny story behind it I promise. So one day my little brother asks me, "Which character from Demon Slayer do you want to eat shit?" I said Tengen of course, and months later he gave me this for my birthday. I freaking love my brother 😭

I had to make a separate photo for this one since it was so big. This is a towel with all of the upper moons on it. I really love the art for this and I think it's just so beautiful.

Shikishi boards! I love collecting these because they have official art of Gyutaro that we don't get to see anywhere else!

More shikishi boards! He looks so handsome, right? 🤭

Just some photos (idk why they sell these) and coasters from the Ufotable Cafe in Japan.

More miscellaneous stuff. The graded card in the middle was also a birthday present from my brother. 💚

A folder and some stickers!

Finally, these are the last things. These are large items so instead of taking photos of them I just made a collage. They are luncheon mats and mat cases from the Ufotable Cafe. There is also a double-sided pillow, I use this every day in my gaming chair to support my back!

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!

This is my entire collection! I may have forgot about one or two items but this is the majority of it. I also have shirts but maybe I will show those another day. (Maybe in a face reveal?) I hope you enjoyed seeing how my adhd brain hoards everything with Gyutaro on it.

I'm sorry I wasn't able to provide more links for these items as most of them sold out long ago. They are focusing on making merch for the Hantengu clones now, so Gyutaro item releases have slowed down a lot.

But if/when any new items come out I will be sure to share them! If you made it all the way through my collection, you're awesome! And I'd love to hear which thing was your favorite 💚 ✧( ु•⌄• )◞◟( •⌄• ू )✧

[bratbarzal]

On Your Side (NH13) / Chapter Five

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen*

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

WC: 17k (holy moly)

Chapter Warnings: I tried to sprinkle some fluffy flashbacks and smutty references later in here just to lighten the mood but this is angsty!! probably cursing I honestly can't remember, and serious warnings rn mentions of hacking/gossip blogs/blackmail/cyber bullying/nudes being leaked, talia is her own warning tbh. I tried not to make a cliched ex comes in between them plot and idk how it comes across but yeah I was trying to toe the line between it being interesting/different and then going too far and not being able to write around it which is why the plot kind of fixes itself quick and is a leeeetle bit bad but there's some unresolved bitterness in that relationship for sure lmao she has a LOT 2 say!! did I mention there's angst in here? insecurity/self-doubt and miscommunication!!! in abundance!!! but!! luke is a cutey patootie in this I wrote his part with a lil smile on my face 💖 also a ridiculous conversation about huffing glue lmao

Series Masterlist

Previous Part (Chapter Four)

A/N: ok so in the grand scheme of things this is both a filler chapter and also like a pivotal point in the story to set something later up, but when I was planning this entire fic out, the only directive I gave myself for this specific chapter was insert angst. you wouldn't believe the amount of times I've written and rewritten and gone back and forth on what's in here. it's the kind of instruction only a complete melon would give themselves and I clearly just hate myself in ways that are spooky and strange to submit myself to this kind of torture.

and I hear your cries of hasn’t this fic just been angst so far??? yes!! you may be correct!! but you don’t get a rainbow without a bit of rain hun!!! grab an umbrella!!! I promise good will come of this lmao

I'm sorry this one took so long, it's the only chapter I didn't have any kind of plan or direction for obviously and I tried to come up with so many different options for the talia plot before I landed on whatever this is, but the next one I do have some scenes written out in my plan so shouldn't be as long in between. my goal has always been a chapter a week but like I said the other day work has been a lot for me the past couple of weeks so I am genuinely sorry for making you wait!!

you guys were very fun and very kind to me after the last chapter so please please please lets keep the good vibes going come chat to me about your thoughts about the fic about the weather about anything!! 💓

Nico

When Nico and Talia had first started dating, there had been an element of excitement to the dynamic. Nico hadn’t properly dated anyone in a while - had casual flings here and there, and for the most part spent his time swallowing down his burgeoning feelings for his best friend - and there was a novelty to starting something with someone new.

He had all the intentions of building something serious with her. She was fun, got on with his friends, had ties close to home that meant he wouldn’t be putting a wedge between the two of them should he want to travel back in his breaks, and sinking his teeth into the challenges of a relationship was something that actually intrigued him.

He liked planning dates, liked buying gifts to see that buzz of joy and gratitude it would elicit, and he liked the companionship - liked having someone there when he came back from a long roadie or a tough string of games. 

He liked it so much he never really opened his eyes to the fact that Talia didn’t. 

She didn’t like the dates he planned - didn’t like the restaurants he chose, the movies he wanted to share with her, the bars him and the guys frequented. She didn’t like America, didn’t like their coffee shops, thought their pastries were packed with too much sugar, their portion sizes were too large for her ever to enjoy going for lunch, always complaining about feeling bloated and sluggish after every meal. She hated Jersey - wanted to spend all her time across the Hudson, looking down on everyone she met and everywhere they went together. She didn’t make much use of the gifts he bought her - let every bouquet of flowers die a quick, careless death, said the watch he bought her didn’t go with enough of her other jewellery and turned her nose up at every effort he made to make his apartment feel more like her home. 

She wasn’t all that comforting when it came to companionship, either. Rolled her eyes when he came home aching and exhausted, went out without him on the days he was coming back from a roadie and returned home when he had long retired to his bed. She would always want to meet up with her girlfriends instead of hanging around the team, and only ever wanted to come to games if she could bring her own entourage - mostly to show off her connections and hardly ever to actually support him.

And so, despite the initial attraction, despite the excitement that first came with their blossoming relationship, Nico can only look at Talia with disinterest and frigidity now.

He barely greets her as he opens the door to his apartment, moving aside to let her in and waiting for her to trudge her small case in behind her before he closes it, leaning against the surface and watching her discard her bag and keys on the counter with familiarity.

When she turns to face him, running a hand through her hair and huffing out a big sigh, he takes in her dishevelled appearance.

Even when travelling, Talia usually takes great pride in her pristine exterior - hair blow-dried, outfit co-ordinated and steam-pressed to perfection, not a crease or stain in sight, and usually a light layer of makeup to cover the slight imperfections like the darkened under eyes and redness around her nose. This isn’t like her.

She looks like she’s been messing with her hair the whole 8 hour flight out and beyond, her eyes are rimmed-red with smudges of brown at the corners, her lips are chapped and swollen like she’s been crying, and her sweatpants don’t match her hoodie. It’s almost like she’d thrown on whatever she could find and caught the first flight out, fresh out of bed.

“What’s going on?” He cuts straight to the chase, losing all formality and courtesy. He should feel bad for his callous greeting, but she had broken up with him over text not even a month ago - she doesn’t exactly deserve outstretched arms and a warm embrace, he thinks.

“Hi Talia, how have you been, Talia? It’s nice to see you Talia.” She mocks, a frown overtaking her features immediately. “I’m absolutely amazing, thanks for caring, Nico!” Sarcasm spews from her tongue like pure venom, and his eyes practically roll into the back of his head.

Nico pushes himself off of the door, heavy footsteps leading him into his kitchen where he can make himself a coffee to get through this. His watch reads 6:05 - far too early for her antics - and rising to her nagging is only going to make things worse.

“Do you want a drink?” He asks, as he busies himself with his coffee press, unable to look at her too long without the pricks of guilt irritating him.  He doesn’t even know what he has to feel guilty about.

“I’ll get it myself,” she scoffs, venturing over to the fridge and pouring out some orange juice - her movements around his space eerily natural. She slams back most of the drink as he works out how to brew his coffee - but she sees right through him. He’s hardly ever used the press before, and he’s just doing so now to avoid her in whatever capacity he can. “I need money.”

Nico’s almost positive he hasn’t heard her right - that there’s some kind of mix up between her standard German and his Swiss - and he slowly turns to properly face her, brows slanting into a deep frown as he assesses her expression.

She has a hand on her hip, her jaw set and her eyes darkened and serious. 

“You have money.”

Talia comes from money - her father is some kind of film producer and her mother an artist, if Nico remembers correctly - and she makes good money, herself. She’s been a print model since she was scouted in some market in Munich since she was 15, has had her face plastered in ads in magazines and catalogues around the world. She’s hardly strapped for cash. She gets things gifted to her by whatever company she can get a hold of. What could she possibly need him to give her money for?

“Not enough.” Her tone is cold, her demeanour the same, and if Nico can still gauge her emotions correctly, there’s an element of blame that she is starting to shift towards him, and his whole body starts to feel tense.

“Not enough for what?”

He can’t quite tell what feeling washes over him - worry, at the thought she’s gotten herself into some kind of trouble, stress, at the thought this could be a recurring thing, and potentially pity, at the way she’s so clearly carrying the weight of something heavy - something she’s lugged all the way across the Atlantic on a long haul flight with her.

“Not enough to pay the guy who’s blackmailing me not to leak the videos that I sent to you.”

“What vide-“ he bites back, and the immediate arch of her brow tells him all he needs to know. “Oh.”

Shit.

“Oh? That’s all you have to say?” She sneers, fury in her gaze and dismay in her tone. “You’ve ruined my life, and all I get is an oh?”

“Whoa, slow down, I’ve ruined your life?”

Nico has never been one to shame any girl for sending explicit pictures - he’d been more than willing to receive them at the time - but he hadn’t ever forced her hand. He hadn’t even asked her for them, in the first place. 

She’d taken it upon herself to spice things up, as she had put it at the time, when the team had gone on the road in early December. It was just after he’d returned from his injury - a time in which he’d spent mentally distanced from her as he’d focused so much on getting back to the game, their relationship consisting mainly of not-so-passionate sex to avoid aggravating his injury and hardly of any kind of meaningful conversation - and she had thought that keeping him on his toes on a roadie would mean he’d come back more interested than ever.

If he’d been looking out for red flags at the time, he might have caught that blaring one; needing to try new things only a few months into a relationship to keep it fun and light.

He’d been in his hotel room in Seattle, freshly showered and ready to throw himself straight into bed when his phone had started to ping. It was suggestive texts at first, are you alone? And I’m thinking about you. Then it had been pictures, hands over lingerie and fingers between glossy, pouted lips.

And then videos, one after the other before he had any chance to respond - her phone set up far enough away that her whole body was in frame, touching herself while laying on his bed and calling out for him.

He had called her instead of sending anything back, and as he realises the severity of the situation, a selfish part of him is glad he did so.

“Talia, I didn’t even save those videos, and I definitely didn’t show them to anyone else.”

Nico could never. Not only for the fact that he was raised to be a decent human being, but he has a sister - if anyone ever did that to Nina, he’d tear them apart, limb from limb. 

“You’re the only person I’ve ever sent anything to.” She seems to have made her mind up, and Nico feels as if his heart plummets through his torso at the realisation. She’s travelled all this way because she genuinely believes he’s the cause of this - that he’s shared intimate videos of her without her consent, to someone who would extort her for them. “And he sent me some pictures as proof, had information about me like the address of this apartment.”

“Talia, I swear on my mother’s life, I wouldn’t do that to you - to anyone, not ever.”

Tears well in her crystalline eyes, and Nico waits with bated breath as she assesses the situation in her head. 

He isn’t a liar - he has never given her a reason to think he is one. In their time together, he had always been honest, always been loyal, and he hopes at the very least - despite her obvious distain for him now, and how little she ended up caring about their relationship in the end to cut it off in the way she did - she thought of him as kind. 

He can do nothing but be patient, let her come to whatever conclusion on her own, and it’s only when he spots the quiver in her bottom lip that he takes an apprehensive step forward, ready to console her if needed.

She practically throws herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his waist and bawling into his chest, and all he can do is hold her and wait. He tries to rub a soothing hand up and down her back, holding the other against her head as her body wracks with sobs. All he can feel is the pounding of his own heartbeat, pulsing throughout his entire body until it’s all he can hear, too.

Nico does his best to comfort her, shushing and cooing and whispering how it’s going to be alright, but it does little to help. She’s beyond relief.

“There’s a guy who said he can track whoever is doing this to me,” she sniffles as she pulls herself away. “He’s in Jersey City Heights, he’s some sort of ethical hacker, whatever that means, I’m going to meet him and he’s gonna go through my phone.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Nico doesn’t even hesitate to ask - if not to protect her, and make sure she isn’t unknowingly getting herself into an even more dangerous situation, then to protect himself too. If someone has Talia’s pictures, and she only sent them to him, there’s a possibility his phone had been hacked, and if this guy is as ethical as he says, maybe he can check Nico’s stuff, too, just to be safe.

She gives him an appreciative smile, eyes still glassy and cheeks flushed. “I’d really appreciate that.”

“I’m gonna shower, then we can go. You can grab whatever to eat while you’re waiting.” He backs away from her completely, only just able to acknowledge the ache in his muscles once the intensity of the situation has settled a little, and he just needs to stand under the steaming spray and clear his mind before he properly immerses himself in her company. 

He has a lot more than this whole mess that he needs to think about, and maybe a shower can bring him a little clarity on how exactly he’s going to explain himself to the beautiful girl whose bed he had abruptly left not even an hour ago. 

“Why are you dressed?”

Nico stops in his tracks.

When he had got back to his apartment, he’d made a little effort for it to seem like he’d been there all night. He’d gone through to his bedroom, mussed up his sheets to make it seem like he had been sleeping in them - and not with the anticipation that Talia was going to be entering his bedroom, but with her, he never knows - trying to retrace the steps of his usual routine before he goes to bed, he had closed all the blinds, had moved his gym bag by the door.

But he hadn’t changed.

Still adorned in his sweatshirt and jeans from the night before, the clothing feels all that much heavier on his body as she brings attention to it, and he quickly racks his brain to come up with a valid excuse that doesn’t rouse further suspicion.

“I fell asleep in these clothes.” As easy as the lie comes out, he doesn’t feel great saying it. Doesn’t feel like erasing the night he had shared with Poppy is for the greater good, even if it is just to Talia, but avoiding another difficult conversation is a must right now - especially when he’d already lied to her on the phone. “Was out late with the guys last night, Timo threw a party for my birthday.”

“Right,” she drags out, and when he turns back around, she casts a scrutinising glance over him, top to bottom. “Sorry, I forgot.”

“No worries,” he shrugs, genuinely not offended. She has no reason to remember his birthday. Not anymore. “Like I said, help yourself to whatever, I’ll try not to be long.” 

When he undresses for his shower, he’s thankful he hadn’t had the foresight to change in anticipation of Talia’s arrival. He probably would have donned a t-shirt and some shorts, oblivious to the visible indents on his thighs where Poppy had dug her nails in as she took him in her mouth.

His chest and torso are littered with scratches, some faint, some a little deeper, and he can’t get the right angle to see his back but he imagines they’re the same - the memory of her clutching at him as both of their climaxes approached is vivid enough for him to picture the marks she left behind.

He groans as the thought of her brings back that swirling feeling in the pit of his stomach, as he notices the blooming arousal pool there, and feels himself harden as he steps under the spray of his shower.

If his phone had been on do not disturb through the night, he could be in the shower with Poppy, instead.

He could have woken up to her in his arms, could have pecked at her sleep-swollen lips until it brought her out of her slumber, and spent his morning making up for lost time just like he had promised her last night. He could have made light work of the pleasure he had given her the night before - could have had her underneath him in her bed, tangled up in the mess of sheets and falling apart before they shared a morning shower, where he’d have held her up against the tiles and would’ve moved into her until they couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. He’d have made her breakfast, something sweet, so that as she sat and watched him atop the kitchen counter he had tasted her on for the first time not even 12 hours before, he’d press his tongue into her mouth after she had eaten and savour the flavour of strawberries that had settled between her lips.

Instead, he’s here, turning the temperature of his water down until any and all excitement in his body is dampened, and all he can focus on is the effect the cold has on all his other aching muscles.

Once he has showered and gotten dressed - and has come to the conclusion that any further thoughts about Poppy need to wait until the Talia problem is resolved and out of his hands, he finds his ex girlfriend sprawled across his couch, music playing from the speaker in the corner, and taking helping herself to a whole new level. 

Her case is opened where she had left it by the door, and she’s set herself a little vanity up on his coffee table, fixing her appearance before they leave.

She’s changed out of her mismatched sweats, has dressed herself in jeans and a sweater, and has found an extension cable long enough for her to plug in whatever hot tool she’s currently running through her hair.

“You take the longest showers in the history of man,” she rolls her eyes, not even casting a glance his way as she focuses on her own reflection in the little mirror she must have brought with her. “I do not want to know what it is you get up to in there.”

“I was barely 30 minutes, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, almost,” she runs the tool through her bangs until they flick out at the edges on either side of her face, and it reminds him of all the times he had watched her while waiting for her to finish getting ready. It makes him feel uneasy how familiar it all is, how she’s so quickly made herself at home again in his space.

He wants to tell her she needs to pack her stuff back up, that she won’t be staying here and needs to give his keys back, but the weight of the situation at hand dawns on him before he can open his mouth.

He’ll wait until they get back later, his decision depending on the outcome of their visit to her hacker friend.

As much as he doesn’t want her around, he isn’t going to kick her out with no place to go if her life is still shrouded in unsafe circumstances. 

Talia unplugs her stuff, wraps the cord around the handle of the brush she was using, and places it on a mat she must have brought with her so it doesn’t burn through the surface of the table. “Kay, let’s go.”

She marches ahead of him, picking up her bag and keys on the way out and leaving him to lock up while she calls for the elevator. They wait together in silence, his heart thudding an anxious rhythm in his chest as he anticipates the arrival of the elevator - and thankfully, it arrives empty.

He tries to distance himself from her as they enter, him standing in one corner, and hoping she takes the other, but she doesn’t quite get the memo, standing obliviously in the centre as she types away to someone on her phone and he presses the button to go to the basement.

Nico watches the numbers go down with bated breath. His floor, the next, the next one after that, and he uses any good will he has left with the universe to hope and pray it skips the floor coming up - but, as is just his luck, the elevator comes to a stop with a soft thud, and the doors open to reveal the very situation he’s been hoping to avoid. 

Jack walks straight in, eyes cast down to the phone in his hands, distractedly typing away and not even noticing the button for the parking level has been pressed before he pushes it, himself.

Luke notices straight away, halting in his movements to enter the space as his gaze flickers between the two people already occupying it. 

He diverts his eyes when they meet Nico’s head dropping as he steps in and stands beside his brother, uttering a quick greeting of, “Hey, Cap.”

Jack’s attention is captured immediately, spinning at an almost dizzying speed to face his captain, phone disregarded into his back pocket. “Schao! I thought you’d be at-,”

He’s thankfully able to tune into his perception before he carries on with his train of thought, a subtle movement in his peripheral diverting his gaze to the figure stood to the side of Nico. 

“Talia. Hi.”

“Hi, Jack.” Nico cringes inwardly at how disinterested she sounds. “Luke.” Talia had never really cared for Nico’s teammates - especially not the younger guys like Jack and Luke. She was quick to pass judgement, making comments on their maturity, or apparent lack-thereof, and wasn’t the biggest fan of how close Nico was with the pair. Didn’t like the time or attention he gave them considering the close quarters they lived in, and had always been resentful. She always claimed her English wasn’t good enough to hold a proper conversation with them, but he’d seen her enough around her American friends to know it wasn’t true.

“We’re just meeting up with some of the guys for breakfast.” Jack says, cautiously, in an attempt to fill the silence. The invitation remains unspoken, but Nico can tell in the way the younger boy cocks his head and meets his eye that he’s gauging his current situation for the morning.

“We have plans.” Talia must be able to tell what he was getting at, too and Nico can see Luke’s eyes narrow as soon as the word resonates in his head. Plans. Pre-meditated. Made before she had sprung all of this on him within the last hour or two. Panic stirs within him, and his throat itches to speak the truth, but it’s just not the right time to do so with Talia stood beside him. If he starts getting defensive, she’ll start asking questions, and the boys will have to bear witness to him skirting around the matter of Poppy. 

It’s not a good look no matter which way he swings it. He’s stuck in a thick, dark, tarry mess of not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings but making all the wrong decisions. A minefield of not knowing how to explain himself without raising a million questions on either side, and hoping one of the brothers might toe the line of the boundaries of their relationship and just straight up ask why Talia is here.

He knows he has fucked up without the way neither of them are looking him in the eye.

He knew it the second Poppy’s door had locked behind him this morning - he doesn’t need Luke refusing to meet his gaze, doesn’t need Jack’s shifting side eye to tell him he’s made a mistake. 

“I’ll text you later.” Nico says, mainly to Jack but still trying to meet his brother’s eyes with no luck. It’s an attempt to say something, without saying anything. A silent beg not to jump to conclusions about what they’ve seen - and, although he knows they wouldn’t, not to tell anyone else. Not whichever of the guys they are meeting up with, not anyone else on the team, and definitely not Poppy.

“Yeah, sure,” Jack mutters in a poor attempt to hide his discomfort, and an even worse attempt at masking his relief when the doors ping open on the parking level.

“Have fun with your plans,” Luke huffs out, his tone like a tight fist clutching at Nico’s chest despite his courteous choice of words.

“We will,” Talia forces a smile. Nico gets the feeling she isn’t as oblivious to the tension as he hopes she is.

The four of them separate into their pairs with mumbled goodbyes, Jack and Luke heading off to Luke’s car on one side of the garage, and Nico and Talia heading to his on the other, and Nico can’t even let out a sigh of pseudo-relief before Talia jumps on him.

“That was weird.”

“We broke up, they weren’t expecting to see us together.” He quickly excuses as he starts the car up, turning on the heat and hoping the soft buzz of the air will fill the silence enough that she doesn’t feel the need to talk. 

“It’s been like 3 weeks, most couples get back together after their first breakup.”

Has it only been 3 weeks? He thinks, shuddering at how little time had actually passed between her sending that text and him restoring balance to his life.

“We’re not most couples,” he shrugs, shutting that train of thought immediately as he starts to make his way out of the parking garage, ascending the ramp where the doors open up to reveal the dull beam of the winter morning sun. “You dumped me over text a week before Christmas, we’re not getting back together.”

“Oh yeah, I bet you were real cut up about it,” she jibes, sarcastically. “Probably landed straight in the bed of some desperate puck bunny more than happy to take your mind off of how awful I was to you.”

His mind immediately goes to Poppy, to last night, to her bed - and despite the complete bullshit Talia has fabricated in her head, despite how much he wants to tell her she has it all wrong, he can’t bear to twist himself even further into knots to skirt around mentioning the girl who did make him better.

“We’re not having this conversation right now.” He decides, tapping at the screen in the console of his car until he brings up the navigation. “Put in the address you need, we’re not too far from The Heights.”

The location she enters into the system is for an unassuming condo in a quiet, suburban area. The neighbourhood itself is picturesque, the buildings colourful, the paths lined with trees that seemed to flourish even in the midst of winter, and when Nico pulls up across the street, he notices the amount of families around - parents walking their kids to school and couples with dogs getting their morning steps in. It’s the last place he imagines some hacker to be shacked up, but maybe that’s the point.

He still doesn’t entirely understand the ethical part.

“It’s the one with the red brick and the balcony,” Talia points to the other side of the road as she unbuckles her seatbelt, and Nico looks over at the building as if he’s going to be able to see all the secrets stored within it.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, number 414.” She shows him the messages she has exchanged with the guy, and sure enough, the address matches up. “C’mon, the sooner we get in there, the sooner we can figure this out.”

He follows her across the street, adjusting the cap he wears atop his head and making sure it conceals his identity from anyone with eyesight good enough to catch it, trying to shrug off the discomfort of the whole situation as he waits for someone to pick up the buzzer Talia relentlessly presses.

He hears a different kind of buzz, lighter, like the manual zoom of a camera, and cranes his neck to assess their surroundings as they wait, before he catches sight of the device in the top corner of the porch, facing directly onto them.

He hears the click of a lock as soon as his eyes make contact with the thing, and cautiously tries the handle on the door until it pushes all the way down, letting them into the building. 

The door to the ground floor condo is open, and stood in the entrance is a guy no older than 20, dressed in all black with dark, beady eyes framed by wire-rimmed glasses. If Nico could find it in him to see the humour in the situation, he’d laugh at how he looks like Luke - a mop of curly brown hair, tall with a slim build and ever so slightly poor posture.

He straightens up as the two of them approach, Nico keeping Talia behind him as he assesses the safety of the situation. If they’re being lured into some kind of trap, he could definitely take this guy - he can’t even maintain direct eye contact, never mind manage to subdue a man of Nico’s stature.

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing someone, Talia.”

He’s soft-spoken, his voice ever so nasally, and despite the fact that he’s talking to the girl behind him, his gaze has settled on Nico’s chest.

“My name’s Nico.” He introduces himself, holding out a hand to shake. He thinks he can write him off as a threat, for now, and if making him feel comfortable encourages him to help them, he wants to put him at ease. “

“I know who you are.” He doesn’t shake Nico’s hand. “I’m Myles. Come in.”

Myles doesn’t wait for the two of them, marching back into his place and leaving the door open for Talia and Nico to enter and close behind them. 

Nico isn’t surprised by the space - from his brief encounter with the resident so far, it fits him to a tee; neat, impersonal, furniture that looks fresh out of a catalogue. He follows him over to the corner of his living room, a PC set up with several monitors that he can’t tell are on until they’re standing straight in front of them.

Myles throws himself down into the large swivel chair, spinning until he’s facing the two of them and crossing his arms over his torso with disinterest. “So, nudes?”

Straight to the point. Nico can’t exactly be mad at it.

Talia steps out from behind him, handing her unlocked phone to Myles. “The messages started last week, just after New Years. Straight to my number, not in DMs or anything, but the number doesn’t even come up for me to call it from another phone or anything, just says unknown.”

Myles takes her phone and plugs it into his setup without even looking at whatever she has opened on it, and Nico watches as the screens come alive with mirrors of the device and some other apps that launch as soon as it connects. 

“That’s more helpful than you think, they have to use an app to be able to anonymously text you, makes it easier to identify them.”

The way Myles talks is monotonous and detached, but the way he works is anything but. His fingers move quicker than Nico’s eyes can track on his keyboard, typing away at whatever as different things flash up and leave his screen. It like something straight out of a spy movie.

“So we can find out who it is just from that?” He asks, arms folding over his chest as he watches in almost-awe.

“Not exactly. If it is a hacker, I could identify their signature. Doesn’t mean I could identify them, but we can work around it potentially.”

Talia throws herself down on the couch behind them exasperatedly, sighing loudly and making her displeasure known. “You told me you could track them down, that’s what I’m paying you to do.”

“I told you I could help you, I didn’t say I could specifically track anyone, that’s not how this works.”

“How does it work then?” Nico asks.

Myles wheels his chair to the side to make room for Nico to get closer, and starts walking him through the process, pointing through the different apps he uses and explaining how he uses them. One deciphers which app the person used to message Talia. Once that’s been deduced, he uses another to enter a backdoor into that app’s servers, perusing through them until he finds the account that sent the text, making sure the date, time and then content line up. Once he’s found the account, he can see the other texts sent from it, and a gallery spreads across two screens, with maybe hundreds of pictures, videos, messages and transactions all to or from that same account.

“You’re telling me you have the power to do all this and you don’t use it to like rob banks or something?”

“Ethical hacker, clue’s in the name.” Myles shrugs. Nico looks back to Talia, her jaw set as she picks at her nails out of boredom. It’s probably taken about fifteen minutes for this guy to work an absolute miracle, and she looks like she couldn’t care less. “We use all this information, and the access I have on the server, to shut this dude down and cut his con before he can do it to anyone else.”

“Whoa whoa,” Talia shoots up, “Won’t that make him mad? Make him just post all the photos?”

“I doubt it,” the hacker comments, bringing up a couple of the photos on the screens, some of Talia, some of another girl, making Nico divert his eyes. “They’re not even real.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Excuse me?”

Talia and Nico both question at the same time, leaning in to get a proper look to confirm what is being told to them. The other pictures Myles had brought up, the ones of other girls, are actually kind of the same. The same poses, the same backgrounds, the same outfits, or lack thereof, just different faces and different hair.

“They’re called deep fakes. Photoshop, essentially.” He has that aloof tone to his words again, and Nico can’t quite believe how simple it seems for him to say. “They put a bunch of your pictures into an AI generator and give it instruction, like put this face on a body posed like this or wearing that. I’d assume the video they have is the same.”

“How is that even possible?” Talia gasps, pushing herself forward and snatching the mouse from Myles’ grasp. She clicks into what she assumes is the video, and it starts playing before she can think better of it, thankfully without any sound. 

It’s Talia - that much is obvious from the initial close up of her face - but Nico doesn’t recognise anything else about it. He doesn’t recognise the room she’s in, the bed she’s on, the things she’s doing. He’s never seen this before. It’s definitely not one of the videos she had sent him, and when he looks closer, he realises the little moles on her ribs aren’t even there.

None of it is real.

“You said he sent you the photos? You didn’t realise they weren’t the ones you took?” He can’t conceal the bite in his tone, his brows furrowing as he looks at her in disbelief. She’s flown out here, disrupted his peace, blamed him for blackmailing her, and she can’t even recognise what is or isn’t her own body. 

“They looked real, I-,” Her shock disappears as quickly as it had come about, her mood shifting and a glare all of a sudden being directed at her ex boyfriend. “I wouldn’t have accused you if they didn’t look real, Nico.” She snaps, frowning at him like this is his fault. “You have no idea what it’s like to be threatened like that, I won’t have you blame me for panicking.”

Slivers of guilt seep into his subconscious, and he takes a deep breath, diverting his gaze uneasily and letting out a big sigh.

He knows he should be a little more compassionate, but there’s panicking, and then there’s this.

She had accused him of ruining her life.

“What about the rest of it?” Nico asks, “Like how did he get her number or have my address? You said he had other information?”

“He did,” Talia nods, looking over to Myles.

“The address he probably got when he got your number, and he could have got that from anywhere. Could be something as small as you ordering something online and the store having a data breach, or clicking a link that shared your IP address, and getting your phone information from that.” Myles starts his typing again, keeping a tight grip on his mouse so that it can’t be snatched again. “I could probably find out actually, they’re pretty easy to spot, do you clear your history often?”

“I wouldn’t even know how to do that,”

“Perfect,” Again, his fingertips work at lightening speed, and Nico watches as instagram opens on one of the screens. “Yeah, a DM sent to you from… Devils_tea. You opened a link to a shared drive to upload some pictures, the drive probably had malware and the pictures have location metadata.”

Nico rolls his eyes, that small ebb of pity washing almost completely away, and before Talia can stop him, Myles carries on. “Some of the pictures you sent them are the ones they used for the AI photos, look your face in this one is the exact same as this photo they threatened to leak.”

Nico recognises these photos. The ones that had been plastered all over social media when their relationship had leaked. Pictures of them back in Switzerland, on a weekend trip to Ibiza, selfies of them in his apartment, and even a picture of the two of them with his parents back at his family home in Valais.

He has been far too oblivious to Talia’s games for far too long, he realises. 

Of course she had been the one to leak everything - who else would have had those photos - but he hadn’t even considered it would be her; she had faced the harshest aftermath for it, why would she subject herself to all the subsequent grief that came with people knowing about their relationship?

Thank God for this guy’s lack of social cues, Nico thinks, or he would never have known that for as long as they had been together, she had been violating his revered privacy and trust.

“Nico, that wasn’t-,” Talia’s panic is evident, wide eyes, trembling hands raised in defence, “I must have been hacked,”

“Actually, there’s no-,” Myles begins to interject, fingers working again to fact check, but Nico doesn’t need him to validate what he already knows.

“Shut up,” Talia snarls, with a finger pointed at him, “You don’t know what you’re talking about, we’re done here.” She reaches forward to snatch her phone back, yanking out the wire that connects it to his monitors and throwing it onto the desk. “We’re leaving, and if you think I’m paying you anything, you’re deluded.” 

Talia marches past them and straight out of the condo, slamming every door she possibly can behind her. Nico can only cringe as the sounds of her stomping footsteps echo until they fade out - until she’s probably outside and waiting for him back at his car.

“Doesn’t she want me to shut this thing down?”

“I’ll pay you.” Nico sighs, reaching into his pocket for his phone and trying to push down the feeling that arises when he’s met with a blank lock screen.

Poppy hasn’t messaged him. 

Not that he deserves for her to make it easy, to let him off the hook and pretend he hasn’t royally fucked things up with her.

“If you stop him, does he still have all the photos? He could still release them?”

“Yeah, but they’re pretty easy to validate as fakes, especially when you have the source material. I don’t think this guy is sophisticated enough for a full blown hack into her phone for the real thing. I couldn’t find evidence of any breach of her cloud or her device.”

Nico nods, but the information does little to quell the anxiety that squeezes his chest in a vice-like grip. 

This whole morning has been nothing but a giant waste of his time. From the second his eyes opened, to this moment right now, he’s made nothing but mistakes.

Not putting his phone on sleep mode before he and Poppy went to bed had been a mistake. Taking Talia’s call had been a mistake. Not waking Poppy up had been a mistake. Leaving without a note, without a text, leaving at all - it had all been one error after another, and all he has left to do is face up to the fact.

He can’t do anything to dwindle the panic rousing in every fibre of his being, the scarring marks left by torturous lashings of regret that whip at his skin.

He’s never felt so ashamed of himself, in such disbelief at his own decisions.

Why didn’t he just wake her?

She’s the most level-headed, acceptable person he knows. She would have understood. He hadn’t had a reasonable explanation at the time, and he doesn’t really have one now - but she would have accepted it, whatever he could have told her, she would have listened, waited until he could give her more.

He needs to see her, to explain, before it’s too late.

If he thinks about the feeling settling in his stomach, if he can compare it to anything, it’s like running from a blazing inferno of doubt and insecurity, licks of fire racing to catch up to him, the soles of his feet pressing into the sizzling ground - and Poppy is the cool embrace of safety.

She is light cracking through a window he just needs to break through to make it out.

If he can get to her quick enough, if he runs, and runs, maybe he’ll make it before he’s jiggling at a red hot handle that won’t move, won’t give, won’t budge.

If he can just talk to her, maybe the morning from hell will be outweighed by the days of resilience, weeks of efforts, years of loving her in whatever capacity, and the promise of something better.

He just needs to get rid of Talia.

The car journey back to his apartment is carried out in a deafening silence. She had tried to talk to him when he’d made his way out of Myles’ condo, when he had found her waiting by his Mercedes with crossed arms and a sour look on her face, but he’d told her he didn’t want to hear it, that they’d deal with it in private.

He hardly wanted a showdown with her in the middle of the street.

And so, she sat in his passenger seat, jaw set, glaring out the window and letting out the occasional huff or puff for attention that he wasn’t entertaining.

The elevator ride up to his place had been the same. Silent, filled with the type of tension you could cut with a knife, and all he could do was ignore her continued petulance and take deep breaths to calm himself down. In through his nose, out through his mouth, overlooking the way she tapped her foot in his peripheral vision, and almost audibly rolled her eyes every few seconds. 

“Would it have killed you to defend me in there?” She scoffs as soon as the door closes behind them in his apartment, “You just let him accuse me of all that stuff and completely invade my privacy!”

Nico screws his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose.

He can’t blow up, can’t stoop to her level. He won’t feel good after the fact. He knows how Talia operates, should have known she’d immediately play the victim card, and he isn’t falling into the trap of arguing to the point of being in the wrong.

He’ll say something he regrets and she’ll use it to her advantage, somehow.

“You asked him to go through your phone, Talia.” He sighs, making his way over to the kitchen and getting himself some water. Chugging at it does little to soothe the burning feeling prickling at the back of his mouth, or the itch of his tongue to spit out a scathing retort. “He’s shut down the guy behind it, he can’t message you or anyone else with any more threats, you should be happy.”

“I should be happy?” She follows him wherever he tries to get away, crowding his space and jabbing a pointed finger into his arm. “You have no idea what I’ve been going through this past week. I thought my career was over! How was I supposed to know it was fake?”

“You didn’t even look at the pictures-,”

“Because I was panicking! I was upset, you can’t expect me to be able to recognise what’s been photoshopped when I’m scared like that!”

“But you can fly straight over here and pin the blame on me for ruining your life? You weren’t too upset to point the finger, Talia,”

“Don’t be an asshole, Nico, it doesn’t suit you.” 

“I’m being the asshole? You don’t even care about the trail of destruction you leave behind you, do you? You send private pictures of us, of me, of my family to random people online who you don’t even know, for what, Talia? For money?”

“I don’t need their money-,”

“So it was just for the attention? You get to parade our relationship around like it means nothing more to you than a title, and once you get your fifteen minutes and a few more instagram followers, you just jet back home and dump me over a text?”

“Oh my God,” she cries, flailing her arms dramatically, following him yet again as he makes his way into his living room, picking her stuff up after her that she had discarded here before they left and throwing it into her travel bag. “Stop playing the victim, for Christ’s sake, you’re hardly heartbroken over it. I know for a fact you’ve been hooking up with someone, one of the girls messaged me that they saw you leave a party with her on New Years!”

“So that’s what this is?” Nico snaps, pointing to her, to her stuff, “You think I’m moving on so you fly back out here and spring this bullshit on me, try to make me feel bad?”

“You have some nerve, Nico,” Talia scoffs, folding her arms across her chest and levelling him with a darkened glare.

“I have nerve? You’re the one who broke up with me out of nowhere and think that you can just march back here and make demands, Talia, blaming me for something that was entirely your own doing.” He’s getting sick of walking on egg shells around the topic. If she hadn’t have been messaging people she wasn’t supposed to, this would never have happened - it’s no one’s fault but her own, and as harsh as it may be, he wants to wash his hands of the whole thing. “Calling me in the middle of the night, telling me I ruined your life, saying I need to give you money?”

“Out of nowhere?” Of course she would only pick up on that, he thinks. “My God, you are so self-absorbed.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Do you think that dating you is easy?” She questions with a measured step toward him. “Do you think I want to spend my life waiting around for my boyfriend, only for him to only ever come home grumpy,” another step, “Or whiny,” and another, “Or too tired and achey to do anything? And that’s when you do come home at all and aren’t half way across the country with the communication skills of a candle. It’s a constant uphill battle trying to get even a second of your attention, Nico, so God forbid I tried to gain some kind of advantage from being with you.”

Her words are starting to cut, but he tries not to react, tries not to bite back. He can count several ways in which she gained an advantage being with him, just off the top of the head - a girl like Talia is never shy of attention. Her courting gossip blogs and sending them private information is probably just scraping the barrel of the ploys she made for exposure while she was with him.

“I didn’t break up with you out of nowhere, I put up with you and the whole circus that comes with you for months, but God, is it exhausting being with you.”

“You knew what you were getting into, Talia. You knew my job, knew my life.” They had met initially through mutual friends - hockey friends of his back home, even - and she has other friends who happen to be wives or girlfriends of athletes. She can’t say she came into the relationship completely oblivious to the downsides of dating a professional player.

“Not really,” she shrugs, “All the other guys can find some sort of balance, but not you. All the other girls get a proper boyfriend, someone who spends time doing what they want to do, who sticks up for them when their psycho fans start to turn on them, who doesn’t keep them hidden away like some dirty secret.”

“That isn’t fair, I can’t control that stuff, Talia, it’s not my fault.” He wants to point out that she was the one engaging in their gossip and riling them up, but he can’t keep harping on about something she refuses to acknowledge. He doesn’t have the time, patience or energy for it anymore.

The initial ‘leaking’ of their relationship had caused their first major fight. Fans online had somehow - although Nico can now hazard a guess as to how - found out about the two of them, had dug into Talia, her background, her family, her job, and had found some pretty toxic posts on her social media. They had been old posts, and she had told Nico that wasn’t the kind of person she was anymore - and he had no reason not to believe her, had never seen or heard her act in the ways she had online in what she called her misguided youth - but someone in the PR department at the Devils had cottoned onto the topic, and had warned Nico of speaking out in her defence when the pitchforks started to raise.

He’d told her he supported her, but he couldn’t do so publicly - not without upsetting people within the organisation he had worked so hard to gain the respect of - and she had told him she understood. They hadn’t been together that long, it would have been a little unreasonable for him to put her above his work in the ways she was expecting, but she clearly doesn’t see it that way, now.

“Maybe not, but if I’d have known that being with you meant having my life invaded, my career ruined, I never would have followed you back here, Nico.” She sounds more solemn now - regretful, even - and as deep as her words cut, she says it like a piece of advice, “I just hope whatever poor girl you’ve got tangled up in your mess this time knows what she’s getting herself into.”

“And what’s that?” His throat feels tight as he speaks all of a sudden, his resolve in defending himself fading, and he tries to gulp down whatever lump is forming there but the feeling doesn’t budge.

This is what she’s good at.

Turning the tables. Reducing him to uncertainty of himself, of his actions, of his memory of their time together.

“A one-sided relationship with a guy who will never be able to put her first.”

There’s a point in every game he has ever had the misfortune of losing, as the seconds count down in the final third, where he has to come to terms with the fact that there’s no possible way for him to win. It’s sort of comparable to the way his insides churn when he’s on a plane and it drops into descent, like his body is falling at a different speed to his surroundings, or the feeling he gets in his gut when he’s hiking, and he dares to take a peek over the edge of whatever mountainside he’s trekking up, where his body can predict the fall, and his mind has set on there being nothing he can do about it.

This feels like all those feelings.

“Whoever she is, and I know she exists, she doesn’t deserve that. It’s not fair.”

Nico’s heart pounds in his chest, echoing and thrumming in his ears until all he can hear is the beat reverberating, ricocheting around his skull.

He can put Poppy first.

So many parts of their lives are intertwined, it would be so easy to make it work. They work together, they live close, he speaks to her more than he speaks to anyone else in his circle. They’ve spent more time together as friends than he has with any other girlfriend he’s had.

He’s wanted her for years, of course he can do it.

Except, deep down, he knows he can’t. Being in a committed relationship with someone is an entirely different ball game to a friendship, no matter how close he and Poppy have been over the years.

He knows there’ll come a point soon into the season where he has to knuckle down and focus, can’t let anything or anyone distract him, and he’ll close himself off. It’s what he has always done. He gets in his head, starts to carry too much weight that he can’t shift until that final buzzer blows - and he can only hope that it happens with his team in the playoffs. Winning, thriving, succeeding. And for that to happen, he can’t prioritise anything other than the game he’s already dedicated his life to, his training, and most importantly, his team.

It isn’t about what he wants.

What have you done? He thinks, his chest aching.

Talia is right.

Poppy doesn’t deserve that.

She doesn’t deserve him only being there in the physical sense, if she even gets that at all. Doesn’t deserve him getting snappy and stressed, doesn’t deserve him not being able to give her time, or give her attention or affection like he wants to, or like she’s worthy of.

“I need to go.” He manages to choke out with a shake of his head, shouldering past her to pick up his jacket - needing to be out of this conversation and away from Talia. “Leave the keys, I don’t want you here when I get back.”

He needs to see Poppy.

He never should have left her - he wishes with everything in him that he had soaked up the time he had with her before everything came tumbling down around him. And somewhere deep within him, there is a fragile, wilting piece of hope that clings to the belief he can make things right. He just needs her to hone in on it. If anyone can reach into the deepest cracks of his insecurities, can show him he’s overthinking things and everything is not as hopeless as he has made it out to be, it will be Poppy.

Poppy

The first time Poppy had ever fallen asleep beside Nico was at a movie night in Jack’s old apartment he shared with Ty Smith. Jack had invited more people round than could reasonably fit in their living room, and so everyone was smushed in - each chair and every inch of floor space used to its full capacity. 

Nico had attempted to save Poppy a space, to give him credit. He had scowled at each of his teammates who tried to throw themselves down in the tiny slot beside him - prime space, corner of the comfiest couch, facing the tv directly, a small table to the side where one could keep their drinks and snacks - only, by the time Poppy got there, he had barely gotten away with man-spreading to make room, so the small section of the couch between Nico and the arm rest had become her designated spot.

It was cosy, to put it nicely. He had to swing his arm over the back so that she wasn’t being assaulted by the hard dig of his shoulder with every laugh, and her closest leg was pretty much on top of his for most of the film.

She’d known the guys for almost a year - had been working in media, attending every game, home and away, and had integrated herself into the group pretty closely - and she felt pretty comfortable around everyone.

It wasn’t the kind of dynamic she had anticipated falling into when she first got the job with the Devils. She was supposed to start getting serious about her life - cracking down on mingling with co-workers and throwing herself into new social circles, and focusing on building a career for herself, climbing through the ranks and attaining the kind of success and happiness she could shove in her family’s disapproving faces - but the guys had charmed her.

Jack had been somewhat relentless in his pursuit of Poppy’s friendship. He rarely took no for an answer when it came to inviting her out. He was new to New Jersey - a much younger player in a slightly older team - and his rookie season had been rough, so it came naturally to Poppy to want to provide comfort. She introduced him to some of her friends, showed him her favourite spots close to his apartment, found him a decent barber, picked up extra fruit whenever she went to the farmers market near her parent’s house and took it over to his and Ty’s place when she came back home so she could mother him into having his 5-a-day as if he didn’t have access to the best nutrition coaches in the country. Despite her best efforts, Jack had weaselled his way under her skin in the way only a brother could.

Nico’s charm was entirely different.

Nico’s charm came in the form of convenience at first - in the oh I live that way, I can drive you and I have some time, I can do some media stuff for you type of way. Convenience blended into companionship - I haven’t eaten either, we should go for lunch together and I’ve been wanting to watch that movie, do you want to watch it with me?

It turned into grabbing food together, even on days neither of them were working - breakfast, brunch, lunch, dinner, even coffee or sometimes drinks if they could meet up with the rest of the team. It turned into him spending time at her place, whether it was helping her paint her apartment, putting up her new wardrobes, or just binging whatever crazy long series Poppy had decided to start over from the beginning - she provided him with a sense of familiarity and calm he couldn’t really find in anyone else he had met in his time in the states. She became his person, his home away from home, away from home.

And he became hers. 

There wasn’t as much she had to escape; her job not as strenuous, the expectations of her not as high, but when things built up for her - when her mother became overbearing, or her latest endeavour into a relationship crashed and burned - Nico was there. He’d make sure she had a distraction, made sure she was looking after herself, and, in turn, would look after her as well. He made sure she got home safe on nights out, or when they returned from a roadie and landed late - he would always make sure to see her off into the comfort of her own home before he went back to his own. 

And that first time she’d fallen asleep beside him, he’d done the same.

He’d wrapped an arm around her to make her as comfortable as possible for as long as he could, and when the movie had finished - when her face was burrowed into the side of his chest, soft snores falling from between her lips - he gently drew her back to consciousness with his hand stroking at her cheek.

She’d been a little startled, hand shooting up to wipe at her chin and thankful she hadn’t been drooling on him - although with the easy smile he was giving her, she had thought he of all people wouldn’t have minded. 

“Movie’s done, do you need a ride home?” His voice had been low and soft as not to worsen her apparent disorientation, and his hand was still lingering by the side of her face.

She had nodded, blinking away her sleepiness, and working her way up from the couch and onto her feet, stretching out her muscles as Nico did the same.

The two of them bid their goodbyes to the rest of the guys, made their way together to Nico’s car, and he had driven her back to her apartment, chatting on the drive about work and training. 

Poppy had been cramming to prepare for her interview for the Foundation at the time - had been getting herself seriously worked up, staying up late, getting up early, barely allowing herself any time for anything fun - and Nico had seen right through her. 

He’d stopped her before she got out of the car, had held her hand, rubbing at her knuckles with his thumb, and had told her that she should get some proper rest, and that she was going to absolutely rock their world in her interview in a few days time. And, knowing she was going to ignore any instruction he gave to make herself some decent dinner and go to bed early, had ordered her favourite Japanese takeout to be delivered a good half an hour after she got inside, with a text that followed telling her to sleep straight after she had finished.

She’d never expected to drift asleep with him on Jack’s couch - had never expected to open her eyes to the sight of his looking so warmly back at her.

And she hadn’t expected the same thing this morning, because, as her eyes drifted open to the intrusive light peaking through the cracks in her curtains, it wasn’t the first time she had woken up.

The first time had been to subdued movements, a slight groan of her bed frame, and the soft pattering of footsteps leading away. It had been to a hushed voice, the creak of her bathroom door, the flush of a toilet and the uttering of a name she had hoped she would never have to worry about again.

Talia.

The rest of his words had been uttered in his own language, but that she could understand.

She had acted purely on fight or flight instinct, laying back and pretending she was asleep - although as soon as she did, she regretted it, her mind racing at the million and one other possibilities she could have gone with. Sitting up, waiting for him to come out and asking him what was going on being the most rational.

But when had she ever gone with the most rational thought?

She tried not to react as she felt his presence, felt the soft press of his lips to her skin, or the placement of her bunny in her arms. Tried not to follow him as soon as he departed her bedroom, beg him to come back and whatever was going on could wait until the proper turn of the morning. Tried not to get up and go after him when the click of the lock to her main door echoed throughout the empty apartment.

And she tried not to cry as she laid in bed, overthinking herself back to sleep, thoughts racing to the point of exhaustion, and hoping when she woke up again it had just been a god-awful dream.

But it hadn’t.

The spot beside her in bed is empty, not even a crease in the pillow to prove he was ever there - only the t-shirt of his she still adorned, the one that when she takes a deep inhale, still smells like him, and the distinct aching between her thighs.

She finds more evidence of their night together in the bathroom, where she undresses herself with sore muscles and glances in the mirror to see the spattering of purple marks forming on her chest and neck. Her fingers trace over them lightly, her fleeting touch bringing vivid images forth of his lips pressing to her skin, practically able to feel the pressure of her flesh being nipped and bitten again.

He had been so attentive to her - so in tune with what she needed and wanted, and so ready to give her whatever that may be. He’d been gentle at some points, and purposeful at others, and every little thing he did, he did it with sweet disposition.

The kind of man who treats a girl like that doesn’t just leave her in the dead of night with no good reason, right?

Her mind races despite her body going into auto-pilot throughout her morning routine. Her shower is over in the flash of an eye, she strips her bed, starts her laundry, makes herself some tea and gets herself dressed - all the while weighing out all the possibilities of what could have taken him away from her, and what she would be able to understand. 

That quickly turns to her imagining the worst, and a tight, constricting feeling starts to consume her chest. 

There isn’t a single part of her apartment she can get away from the thoughts buzzing around her brain - her kitchen marred with the memory of what had happened on the counter, her couch, her bedroom, her bathroom - all carrying distinct memories of Nico that she needs to bench until she knows the truth.

She mistakenly thinks her escape might lie in her phone. There might be a text there waiting, explaining everything and relieving all the anxiety that has welled up in her very core.

Nia’s warnings from the night before don’t ring quick enough in her mind as the screen comes to life, the immediate barrage of notifications flooding in.

2 missed calls from Mom

Mom: Just calling to remind you of proper table etiquette in case it has slipped your mind, I won’t have you embarrass me in front of a Lyon.

Mom: Cutlery going from the outside in, hold your wine glass by the stem and dab with your napkin, don’t swipe!

Mom: Also let the man tuck your chair in and pay the bill, this 21st century woman nonsense is very unbecoming!

Mom: And I don’t want to have to bring this up but for the love of God, Poppy, have some class. I don’t want to hear mutterings of your promiscuity at the next luncheon.

Whoever taught her mom to text deserves a prison sentence, she thinks.

Tucker Lyon standing a girl up and ghosting her attempts to contact him is what’s unbecoming, not her trying to pay her half of the meal.

She can picture her mother as she reads the texts, sipping on her Manhattan on the couch in the great room, her dad already having retreated to bed at that time, and her having nothing better to do than sit and stew on her daughter’s sex life.

If she knew what was really going down last night, her mom would probably have a conniption.

Knowing she’ll no doubt be getting a call later that evening, Poppy swipes away at her text thread with her mom, immediately checking the notifications she hasn’t long received from her best friend.

Nia: hey if you happen to release yourself from Nico’s wandering hands at all today me and Kelsey are grabbing breakfast by my work!!

Nia: if you need refuelling we’ll be at Marco’s at 9 😘 

Perfect. Therein lies her escape. Breakfast with her best friends, where they can hopefully talk her down from the ledge she’s precariously placed herself on.

A catch up with her girls, and then she can distract herself with work.

Poppy: I’ll be there!!

“Hasn’t he text you or anything?” Nia asks, covering her mouth as she chews on her breakfast bagel, the three girls sat around a table inside their favourite cafe close to Nia’s office.

When Poppy and Nia had first moved in together, they rented an apartment in Hoboken, not too far, and their tradition of grabbing breakfast at Marco’s carried on despite Poppy living further down the river and working even further away in Newark. 

Kelsey had lived in Manhattan at that time, but she stayed over so often with the other girls that she practically spent majority of her week there, and so Poppy and Nia’s routine became hers.

Poppy had given the two of them a brief rundown of her night with Nico, a safe-for-work version of events, all leading up to the mysterious early morning phone call and swift departure.

“Nope,” she sighs, swiping to refresh her messages as if she hasn’t put her phone on loud just to be alerted when he does reach out.

“Have you text him?”

“Nope,” she repeats, putting the phone down and leaning back in her chair, running a hand through her already messed up hair. She’s going to have to throw it up if she wants to look any sort of presentable when she gets to work later.

“Is he usually this pathetic at communicating?” Kelsey asks, manicured nails swiping at a bunch of Sweet’n Lows like she’s trying to play Tetris with the packets. 

Kelsey hasn’t met Nico before, not that Poppy can remember.

Despite considering her one of her closest friends, their personal lives have never quite intertwined like that - not like hers and Nia’s.

In college, things were different. They were coming into their own together, figuring out just what they wanted their personal lives to be, and so Kelsey, Poppy and Nia would all share pretty much everything, just to have someone there to validate their feelings.

But that changed once they graduated.

Kelsey moved in with her boyfriend, Liam - who just so happens to be Poppy’s idea of hell-spawn.

The kind of guy her mother would probably love.

Liam worked on Wall Street, couldn’t go five minutes of conversation without talking about stocks or investment funds. His native language was risky money moves and belittling remarks, and he treated Kelsey like an accessory to parade around in public and discard in private.

Poppy had tried a few times to open Kelsey’s eyes to the way that it was, but it soon became apparent that she had to let her friend make her own mistakes, and some parts of their lives didn’t have to cross over.

They broke up around Thanksgiving, and Poppy had tried with all her might not to show her relief, but it has made her somewhat resentful when it comes to other relationships - like no one can be happy if she isn’t.

She knows it isn’t malicious, but she restrains from letting Kelsey all the way in, all the same.

“Not really,” Poppy lies, not wanting to clue her in on the Big Freezewhere he didn’t speak to her for months on end. It doesn’t entirely help her case. “I just don’t get why he’d sneak out to see her of all people, he told me they weren’t ever that solid, that he wasn’t happy with her.”

“Ooh, what if she’s pregnant?” Kelsey is entirely oblivious to the horrific realm of possibility she has just opened Poppy up to, evidenced by the casual chuckle and subsequent sip of her coffee. “Maybe she’s back to baby-trap him.”

Poppy thinks she would have to flee the state.

Nico is a family guy - if Talia is pregnant, he’d force himself to love her again, if he ever even stopped, for the sake of their gorgeous brown eyed, floppy haired baby, and push Poppy to the side just like he had before. And she’ll have to watch him from the sidelines, yearning for what she had just managed to touch the tips of her fingers to before it was violently yanked from her grasp. 

Maybe she’d have to flee the country even - move somewhere remote where she doesn’t even have the chance of being reminded of hockey, let alone of him.

Somewhere with no coffee shops that she’d enter, and the smell of fresh pastries would remind her of all the breakfasts they had together. No railways, where she’d be reminded of his love for model trains every time she came across the tracks. No weird club music that he loves so much, or dorky wizard franchises he chastises her for never having seen.

Maybe Antarctica. They only have penguins there. No real civilisation that she knows of. No brown haired, dark eyed Swiss Gods with deep, honeyed voices that make her knees weak and dimpled smiles that do even worse.

She wouldn’t be able to cope with losing him like that, living her life in an endless mental cycle of what ifs and maybes.

“Kelsey, I beg of you to read the room,” Nia chastises, swatting the girl on her arm before taking Poppy’s hand in her own. “Don’t listen to her, she just wants us all to be single at the same time.”

“Sue me for wanting to have fun! It would be just like college, you and me full-body plunging into the dating pool. Imagine the chaos, Pop, you don’t wanna be tied down to a guy hung up on his ex right now.”

“Dating pool?” Nia scoffs, turning to glare at her, “You’re hardly dry from your last relationship.”

“I’d rather be a grape than a raisin, Ni.” Kelsey chides back, and Poppy can’t help the twitch of her lips at the horrific comparison. 

“You’re really gonna listen to a girl who says that?” Nia asks, unable to mask the glint of humour in her eyes, and Kelsey bites back a smile, too.

Despite the ache in her chest at the thought of any of it - of Nico leaving her this morning, filling her up with empty words and false promises, potentially knocking up an ex girlfriend he is still secretly hung up on even though he told her otherwise - she manages to crack a full smile.

“You are terrible at analogies, Kels,” Poppy tries to hide the grin behind her cup, sipping at her tea and letting the warmth of it soothe the pain in her throat. 

“I’m trying to encourage you to be a strong, independent woman here!”

“She is a strong, independent woman,” Nia defends, “She also happens to be a chronic over-thinker with a deep seated fear of confrontation.”

“I don’t fear confrontation.”

“Then why are we here chit-chatting about hypothetical scenarios when you could just text him and ask what’s up?”

“Maybe ‘cause that’s scary?” Poppy scoffs, only half joking. “What am I supposed to say, hey I just so happened to eavesdrop on your private conversation before you fled my apartment this morning, and despite me not understanding most of it, I definitely heard you mention someone, so could you just let me know if your gorgeous model ex girlfriend is pregnant with your perfect specimen baby?”

“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out, you don’t even need us.”

Poppy rolls her eyes.  

She could text him. Could be casual about it, a good morning or even an are you okay? Those don’t warrant the alarm bells she’s afraid of raising - the ones that blare out with the siren sound of run, this girl is unhealthily attached to you already!

But she doesn’t want to be the pathetic girl chasing after the guy sending her clear messages that he doesn’t want her.

It’s easier said than done not to overthink the whole thing - not to second guess everything he had said, or everything she had done last night.

She feels like she had rushed things. It was so impulsive, so charged, and after spending the majority of her week away from him, she just hadn’t been able to help herself. And that makes her feel like a hypocrite. She had told him that night he had first kissed her that things between them had gotten intense. It had been the whole reason for spending a few days outside of each other’s company, and in the first possible instance, she had thrown herself at him.

It was desperate.

And maybe that scared him.

It sure as hell scares her.

“I don’t know what to do,” She groans, throwing her head into her hands and scrunching her eyes shut to try and drown out the endless doubt. 

She feels two hands rub at either sides of her back, “Listen, Pop,” Nia is the first to attempt to console her, as always, and Poppy holds her breath for the harsh reality check she’s about to throw her way. “You know I am the one person who would usually be trying to convince you to cut your losses and run when it comes to guys who are no good, but this is Nico. I’ve watched the two of you ignore your feelings for far too long to let you get in your own way, now.

“And you’re forgetting I saw him last night, before you got there, there isn’t a chance in Hell he would have left you like that without a good reason. I don’t for a second think he’s still hung up on her.” Nia casts a side eye to Kelsey.

The only problem is that Poppy isn’t sure there’s a reason good enough. Not when it comes to Talia. Not when the memory of those months of radio silence is still so fresh for her.

“I have to go to work in a building where his face is plastered everywhere, Ni, I can hardly forget his entire existence until he deems me worthy of an explanation. Who leaves after a night like that without even a note or a text?”

“An idiot,” Kelsey mutters around her drink, rolling her eyes when Nia sends her another death-glare.

“I’m not asking you to forget, I’m telling you to wait.” Nia frowns, but her tone remains consoling and warm. “You need to stop letting what this thinks,” she flicks at Poppy’s forehead, “Get in the way of what this knows.” She points to her chest on the left side. “You know him. You know how much he likes you.”

She does.

She knows Nico, she trusts him.

She can only judge him based on his actions so far - the ones that tell her that he cares. He leads with his heart, it’s his most attractive attribute. He’s gentle and loving and she needs to focus on those things over anything else.

“Ugh, corny,” Kelsey drags, and despite her repeated efforts to discourage her, Poppy knows she isn’t being entirely serious. “If he has any non-stupid hot athlete friends though, I’m first in line when the two of you kiss and make up for double dates.”

Guilt pricks slightly at Poppy’s chest - for making her recently single friend sit here and listen to her complain about something so monumentally small compared to the breakdown of the long-term relationship Kelsey had just endured. Even if it was perceivably toxic.

“You’d make such a good WAG, Kels.”

It’s a poor attempt to make up for it, but it seems to console her friend all the same, a giant grin breaking out and flashing her perfect pearly whites.

“I know.”

Poppy tries to distract herself with work. Tries to make her way through her inbox of seemingly never ending emails and her list of ever-growing tasks. She types up lengthy responses, puts together a presentation, makes a bunch of phone calls she’s been putting off for God knows how long, sorts all her invoices out - she even sends a fax. In the year 2024. It’s her most productive work day she thinks she’s ever had.

She zeroes in on the ground every time she moves through the building. Ignores the pictures that line the walls of the Rock, pushes down the memories of all the times she’s walked these very halls by Nico’s side, and she thinks she’s done just about enough to clear her mind for the time being.

She hasn’t thought up some heart wrenching scenario in at least an hour by the time she’s wrapping up for the day.

She’s making her way back to her office after dropping some files off for Elaine when she catches sight of a mop of curls over the top of the chair by her desk.

Luke is sat in her chair when she enters, swivelling around and staring at the ceiling.

“You’re gonna make yourself sick doing that, you know.”

“You’re such a mom,” he scoffs, standing up and clearly trying not to sway, “You ever tried having fun? I think I saw a glue stick on a table out there,” he points through the door into the wider office space, where there are a few, less private cubicles and a common area. “We should go sniff them, let loose a little.”

“Is that why you’re here on your day off? To huff glue?”

“Yeah, I don’t get to let loose enough. Being a rookie in the NHL is hard, Poppy,”

“Bummer for you.” She pouts, mockingly, swerving past him as he rounds her desk and sits on the other side, flicking at the bobblehead version of his older brother that stands by her computer. “If you’re chasing a high can you do it with one of the other departments, it’s not a good look for the Youth Foundation.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

When Luke had first joined the Devils, she hadn’t expected that she would warm to him the way she has - but, surprisingly enough, considering the fact they’re brothers, their relationship recently has started to mirror her and Jack’s.

Luke is funny. He’s sarcastic and a little silly, and it can be nice to have him around when work gets a little stressful. He doesn’t let the pressures of his own career outweigh those of hers, and, despite the gap in age, she actually enjoys his company.

But he never seeks her out like this.

Their interactions have always started through other people. Group conversations that dwindle to just the two of them, or he usually accompanies Jack to bug her and carries on when Jack’s ever-so-busy schedule takes him elsewhere.

She can’t think of another time he’s just shown up in her office alone.

Especially on his incredibly rare day off.

“Why are you actually here?” She asks, casting a suspicious but half-playful glare his way as she starts to pack up her things. 

“Came to see if you wanted to join us for dinner.”

“Aw Lukey,” she reaches over her desk to pinch his cheek, “I’m flattered and all but I’m a little too old for you.”

“Ha ha,” he swats her hand away, “Us. Me and Jack. Maybe a couple of the others if they’re free but you can pick where we go if you make a decision quickly, we were thinking a steakhouse.”

She narrows her eyes at him, expecting him to crack a joke about her being old, but he just looks back at her awaiting a response. “Why?” She drags out the question, her movements stopping completely.

“Maybe ‘cause humans need sustenance to live? What do you mean, why?”

“Why would you want me to tag along on your bro date?”

“Don’t call it a bro date,” Luke cringes, “Just remembered you were working today and we were in the area, don’t know why you’re being weird about it.”

“You’re being weird. You guys never let me choose where we eat. Don’t you remember that time we grabbed dinner when you guys drove me home and Jack told me to stop being a pussy about my seafood allergy ‘cause he wanted sushi.”

“Don’t blame me for the crimes of my brother, Poppy, he was obviously joking.”

“I had to eat tofu, Luke, I don’t find that very funny.”

“Are you coming or not?”

“That depends, how do you have your steak?”

“Well done.”

“Oh! Then absolutely not.”

“Remind me never to try to be nice to you again.” He scowls as they make their way out of her office, and she locks up behind the two of them.

“Gladly, it’s creeping me out.” She grabs at his elbow before he can carry on, stopping him in the otherwise empty common area where she knows no one is around to listen in. “Is something going on, seriously?”

Luke rolls his eyes, but she knows him well enough that it’s only done in an attempt to avert from her gaze. 

Bingo. He’s hiding something.

“I just thought you might want some company.” He shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets and twisting his lips to keep from saying much more.

“Why?”

If Poppy wanted to spend her life getting a straight answer out of people for a living, she’d have become an interrogator. What is it with these guys and their inability to answer a simple question?

“Jack said you left the party last night with Nico.”

Poppy’s eyebrows scrunch so close together that she can feel a deep crease form between them. What on earth does that have to do with asking her to dinner? Or being overly nice to her?

Unless-

“You’ve seen him?”

“This morning.”

“Oh.”

All of her efforts from throughout the day seem to have been for nothing - an immediate rush of insecurities flooding her mind.

Where did he see him? What did he say? Was he okay? Was Talia there?

She feels like she can gauge an answer from the way Luke looks. Sheepish, almost, like he doesn’t want to say something he knows will hurt her feelings.

She had to have been with him. He wouldn’t just show up to her office like this if it wasn’t something that would seriously hurt.

She wishes she wasn’t the kind of person who did this - who filled in the gaps of conversations and always came out with the worst possible outcomes - but she can’t help it. She’s been doing it all her life, and there’s rarely ever an instance where her instincts have led her astray.

She knows it’s some weird part of her mind protecting her, but she needs to do something here. Nia’s words from earlier ring like a warning. Don’t let what her brain thinks get in the way of what her heart knows.

Her heart knows Nico wanted her. Knows Nico liked her. Knows Nico wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.

She needs to figure things out for herself and stop running, stop letting her mind fill in the gaps of a situation it can’t even comprehend to begin with.

She reaches her arms around Luke’s shoulders, stretching up on her tip toes to pull him into a hug before rubbing her knuckles into his curls, affectionately.

Luke Hughes is sarcastic and silly, and he cares enough about her to not want her to be alone if she’s going through something.

“Thank you for the offer, Luke, but I’ll be alright.”

“Are you sure?”

She nods, a tender smile tugging at the corners of her stubborn lips. It takes over her face, eyes glinting fondly and cheeks warming. 

“Yeah, you can walk me to my car if you’re that worried about me though.” She loops her arm through his elbow as they make their way to the parking lot, and when they get there, he makes sure she’s in her car and has set off before him and Jack leave.

As if her day can’t get any worse, the elevator in her building is cordoned off with tape and a sign when she gets home, and she has never regretted moving up a floor as much as she does when she’s trudging up 6 flights of stairs.

She’s exhausted. Emotionally and physically, and she just wants to throw herself into bed and pretend the last 24 hours were a terrible dream.

Only, as she rounds the final corner to get to her door, any hopes of that go straight down the pan when her eyes land on Nico, standing in front of her door with his hands buried in his jacket pocket.

He looks tired too - hair messed where he’s no doubt been taking his cap on and off for however long he’s been stood here, running a hand through the tresses until they’re all askew. 

His shoulders are slumped, and he doesn’t even greet her with that pretty smile he usually gives her.

His lips do curve up a touch - limp and half-hearted, not even enough for a dimple to form - but it doesn’t provide the comfort she had thought it would.

She feels anxious. A culmination of the day’s emotions washing over in one go. Sad, regretful, nervous, disappointed - all things she shouldn’t be used to feeling when it comes to Nico, but are all too familiar when she takes the last few months into account.

“Hi.” She gives a weak smile of her own.

“Can we talk?”

She wishes he’d have just said hi, back. That might have relieved the tightness in her chest just a little.

Nothing good ever comes of can we talk?

He steps aside as she approaches, maintaining a safe distance as she opens the door and enters her apartment.

The Nico from yesterday might have brushed past her, the graze of an arm or a lingering hand, but this Nico doesn’t. He barely even meets her eye.

He closes the door behind himself, watching as she discards her bag and keys to the console table on the side, and while she’s turned away from him, she tries to let whatever emotions need to come out cross her features where he can’t see them.

She needs to be cool about this, she thinks.

If she doesn’t get her back up, doesn’t get agitated, she won’t scare him off.

“Are you okay?” She asks once she’s turned to face him, not liking how he stands unmoving by the door. He hasn’t made any effort to settle in - his jacket still on and his hands still hidden in the pockets.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

She realises now that she can get a good look at him that the expression he wears is one of shame. Guilt. Apprehension. She needs to be careful and toe the line before he gets consumed by it, she realises.

She steps toward him a little, and he doesn’t back up - not immediately, not obviously - but he hardly welcomes her approach, either.

She doesn’t like feeling this way when it comes to talking to him - feeling uneasy and unsure, but there’s a part of her that’s tired of having to prompt him for answers.

He had been the one to leave this morning. Why can’t he just come out and tell her why?

“I’m alright,” she shrugs, not wanting to scare him off with the truth. “Super tired, though, can we sit?”

She wonders if he thinks about the same things she does as they make their way to the couch. Wonders if he can feel the scratch of her nails on his torso, or the brush of her lips against his, as they sit in the spot where not even 24 hours ago, their bodies had been intertwined.

He doesn’t sit right beside her as he normally would, and she finds herself missing the way his thigh usually brushes against her own.

She doesn’t know where to start or what to ask, and so she basks in the silence for a little - finding comfort in the fact that, despite the mess they’re currently in, they aren’t quite at the end yet.

But a part of her feels it coming.

She’d known it this morning if she lets herself listen to the rational voice in her head. As soon as she’d heard him say her name, as soon as he’d left, a part of her knew that was it, and maybe if she’d let herself believe it at the time - hadn’t talked herself down and convinced herself she was being irrational - she could have protected herself from all the ways this is going to hurt.

“I’m sorry.” He says, and when she looks up, he’s looking down where his large hands are now clasped together in his lap.

“For what?” She manages to choke out.

“Last night, I,” she digs her nails into the palms of her own hands to stop herself filling in the gaps as he figures out what he wants to say, but it’s no use.

He’s sorry for last night.

Last night, he made a mistake.

Last night, he was drunk, he was confused, he was just looking for something or someone to keep him occupied.

“I care about you so much, Poppy.”

That sentence shouldn’t be the one that fills her with dread, but it is.

“You’re my best friend, and I love you,” he does look up as he says this, eye meeting hers in an attempt to convey his honesty, but she sees more of the truth in his glassy gaze than she hears in his words. “This morning, I panicked, and I just needed some time to figure out what I want.”

No, no, no.

She’d rather he tell her what actually happened than do this. Than pretend he left because he doesn’t want her.

“I love you-,”

“You said that, already.” She can’t help the bite in her tone as she prepares herself for the hit. The I love you, but.

“You’re so important to me. Being your friend, it’s like it’s what keeps me sane lately.”

She chews at the inside of her cheek as she feels the tears start to well at her lash line.

“Poppy, I don’t want to mess up what we have,” he shakes his head as his gaze drops, dark eyes darting to focus anywhere but on her own, pleading and watery as she watches him slip away. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You don’t think this is hurting me?” She feels weak as her voice breaks, “You don’t think this is already messy?”

She reaches out to take his hands in hers, digging in to unclasp them, to try thread her fingers through, but he doesn’t make it easy.

“Nico, I love you, too, you know I do, we can figure it out, you don’t have to run away from me.”

It’s a desperate attempt and she knows it is, but she needs to know she tried. When she’s sobbing into her pillow and crying herself to sleep tonight, she needs to know she didn’t just let him go without a fight.

“I can’t give you what you want, I can’t be in a relationship, I’m no good at it.” 

Regardless of what she had told herself earlier, about taking what he says at face value, and trying not to fill in the gaps like she does so often with everyone else, she can’t help herself. When he says, I can’t be in a relationship, he means with her. He can’t be with Poppy. He would be no good with Poppy.

“Why are you doing this?”

“I told you-,”

“No, you said before that you’ve wanted this for as long as you’ve known me, you don’t just wake up and change your mind, not after-,” Poppy starts to feel panic building within her like a flipped over sand timer. Rising and rising until she starts to feel nauseous, getting harder with each second not to jump to conclusions. 

The voice inside her that tells her he got what he wanted and decided it wasn’t for him sounds caustic and bitter, and if she hadn’t wound herself up so much about this whole situation over the course of the day - the past week, even, or the months before - she might have been able to fight off the way it so easily convinces her.

“I have to put the team first, it doesn’t matter what I want, I have to focus on them, on hockey.”

She’s too caught up in her own emotions to notice how weak he sounds - glassy eyes unable to catch the glint in his. All she can hear, all she can see, is the minute hints of a cover-up - that she isn’t getting the whole story, that he’s lying to her, and that the excuse he’s giving is cowardly.

He still hasn’t mentioned the call, hasn’t mentioned Talia, hasn’t explained why he left her, why he didn’t say anything, why he didn’t come back.

“And you didn’t know that before?” She scoffs, pushing herself up off the couch and stepping away from him, “I can’t believe you would do this to me.” She wipes the tears from her cheeks as soon as they fall, but she can’t rid her skin of the feeling that they were there, her flesh damp and sore.

“I know we took things a little too far last night, but that doesn’t mean-,” She almost thinks he notices how bad that hurts her, referencing the night they shared as a mistake - an instance where they got carried away, and not where they followed through on years worth of built up tension and adoration for one another. She doesn’t even have to fill in the gaps, this time. Took things a little too far is clear enough. “We can still be friends. I want to be friends.”

“Friends?” Poppy jeers in disbelief, turning completely away from him now and missing the tears that drop from his own cheeks - missing the way his chest cracks and stretches open in a last ditch demonstration of his vulnerability, his desperation not to lose her completely. “You should go.”

“Poppy,”

“I can’t,” she tries so hard not to cry, knowing she won’t be able to stop, but the words come out in a choked sob, and her voice carries on in the whiney way she always hates. “You told me you wanted more, you said I was yours, and I’m supposed to just act like it never happened? Just accept you didn’t actually mean the things you said?”

“I meant them,” he says, defiantly, so sure of himself that it makes her head spin. “I wouldn’t-,”

“No, you didn’t. You’re a liar. You were either lying then, or you’re lying now. I don’t know which is worse. I can’t be your friend. I can’t pretend like you can that I don’t feel the way I feel.”

“Please, Mohn,” His fingertips just manage to reach out to land on her forearm before she shucks him off, wincing as if his touch has pained her.

“Don’t.” She takes an immediate step back, arms crossing over herself as a defence mechanism, body language screaming at him to go away, and she watches his pleading eyes drop to her arms just as she feels the cold of the metal there - so in tune with her every thought despite his denial of their true connection. Her arms move before her mind can make the decision, before it can remember what even sits on her skin, and her shaking fingers fumble to unclasp the jewellery adorned on her wrist. “You should take this back.”

Nico shakes his head, stepping back and away from the outstretched hand that holds her gemstone bracelet like it’s an actual danger to him. “No, that’s yours, Poppy.”

“I don’t want it.” She knows she’s the one that’s lying now. She wants the bracelet. She wants him. She doesn’t want him to leave. She wants to be his friend over being nothing. 

But she doesn’t want to hurt.

Looking at him hurts.

Remembering last night, remembering their kiss, the things he has said, the things he has done, it all hurts, and she can’t keep hold of a constant reminder of the pain, can’t wear it on her person at all hours of the day just to know deep down that the man who gave it to her will never want her the same way.

“I want you to leave.”

“Please,” he begs again, head tilting as devastation floods his features, brows pushing together, tears welling at the corners of his eyes, “We need to talk about this-,”

“No, you were right, we went too far, it was a mistake.” Her voice breaks as she says things she knows she doesn’t mean, but he’s already put it out there, so she doesn’t see the harm in echoing his own opinions. “There’s nothing more to talk about.”

She can’t look at him anymore, and so she drops her gaze to his hands, stepping and reaching forward and forcing him to take the bracelet from her before she rounds the couch and heads to the door.

If he isn’t going to give her the whole truth, she isn’t going to entertain part of the story, and she needs him gone so she can give in to the way her body wants to fold in on itself.

It takes him a minute to gather himself, but she refuses to look his way, waiting by the open door to her apartment and staring at the floor in front of her until his shoes appear.

“I do love you, Poppy. I’m leaving because I don’t want to upset you any more than I already have, and I’ll give you space if that’s what you need, but I’ll be here when you want to talk about this. I mean it when I say I can’t lose you.”

 She doesn’t say anything. She can’t say anything.

There’s a stabbing pain that’s building and building in the centre of her chest, and she doesn’t even think she can breathe in his presence.

He clasps a hand around her upper arm, and leans into her, his lips pressing a firm kiss into the crown of her head, and he lingers there for a moment before he retreats. 

She manages to push the door closed behind him, the click of the lock louder than ever, and waits a good few minutes in silence before her body is wracked with a silent sob.

The one time she had tried to be brave and fight her own intuition, and this is where it gets her.

So much for Nico wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.

Next Chapter

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

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for refusing to buy my friend gold? 

I (f/33) have a very good friend (f/39) who is Hindu and an Indian immigrant, and this year she invited me and my wife (33) to celebrate Diwali with her. My wife and I are white canadians and not religious. We’ve been friends with her for almost a decade, but in the last few years have become very close and now she is basically family. We happily accepted.

We brought over food and the stuff to make paper lanterns, and we had a lovely time. The problem came when near the end of the night, when my friend told me that it’s been so long since she had people to celebrate Diwali with, and she was getting excited for presents. I didn’t know Diwali included presents so I hadn’t brought her anything, besides the craft supplies and food, she said that was fine and we could get her something next year.

I asked her what sort of gift she would like, and she said gold was the traditional gift and, I quote “but make sure it’s above 10 karat or it’s basically tin, I’d just throw it away.”

I thought this was a joke at first so I laughed, which made her confused. I explained that I would never give anyone gold as a gift, I’ve never even gotten my wife gold, we couldn’t even afford wedding rings. When she still looked confused I tried to clarify, and asked how much is a gift of gold, traditionally (since I’ve never bought gold, I had no idea how much it would cost.)

She told me a minimum of 500 dollars.

At this point is the behaviour I think might make me an asshole, because I was laughing in complete disbelief very openly. I told her that was completely insane, and I would happily spend every Diwali with her and get her a gift, but there was no way I was buying her 500 dollars worth of gold, ever, especially not if it was a yearly thing.

I know that in India, my friend was of a pretty high caste socially and her family is well off, and here in Canada she is an accountant who owns her own condo, and is looking to buy more property and become a landlord. My wife and I live frugally, we’re blue collar and both from working class families. An average amount I spend on a Christmas or birthday gifts for someone I’m close to would be about 20-50 bucks.

After I’d explained all this to her, I could tell she was disappointed and it had made her sad and confused. Part of me feels bad for laughing at her tradition, especially since she made the effort to include us and has no family here to celebrate with. But it honestly boggles me, and makes me a bit mad, honestly, which I know is unfair since it’s just differences in how we grew up, but I can’t help feeling annoyed and like she’s not seeing her privilege.

This has been compounded by the fact that for Christmas, which we also celebrated with her, she actually gave us gold, worth quite a lot, in the form of a special coin. We’re not the type to display fancy stuff, so it just sits in storage now. But I’m worried she may expect tit-for-tat, even though the only way we could possibly afford to give her gold back in exchange is if we sold what she gave us which we are definitely not supposed to do.

We still hang out constantly and we will continue to do so, she is a for-life friend for a lot of reasons, and I’d love to make her holidays and celebrations special, but this is just a sticking point for me, and I find myself feeling/acting like a prick every time it’s brought up.

So, AITA? Does anyone have suggestions for this situation?

[divine-mystic-princess]

Astrology Observations on Myself pt.4

🌙 Lilith in the 5th house: When I was little I had a lot of sexual encounters with friends. Boy, girl, didn't matter and I had NO awareness of sexual orientation back then-- they just were attracted to me and wanted to explore "taboo" things

♉ Taurus ruling over the 5th house: Whenever I make plans with my friends, the to-do list is literally to eat and spend time in nature playing with flowers LOL

♈ 4th House Ruled by Aries: No one can tell me how to decorate my house, where to live, or what to do in general LOL it's all MY decisions and I go after what I want when I want BUT with Libra MC there's hellah people pleasing tendencies so it's a challenge.

♋ Mars in Cancer: Crying is as easy as breathing. Honestly, I've come to terms with this placement and see it as a gift now, especially as a woman. I don't make a move until my intuition and emotions have guided me to do so ~ it works out a lot better than forcing myself to do something.

♂️ Mars in 7th house: Aggressive sex and slapping, biting, and wrestling is definitely a thing with lovers. Also being first to initiate sex or romantic connections is a theme even as a feminine woman.

Sun conjunct Chiron: pray for us 🫠

Sun and Chiron opposing Saturn: pray harder 😭

♌ Leo ruling the 8th house: something about the magnetism here really triggers people's insecurities. Seeing people's darkness easily with solar leo energy lighting up the house of darkness. NOTHING IS HIDDEN FROM US-- including our own insecurities to shine and be seen* 👀

[ecogirl2759]

Kiyotaka & Mondo <3

-NOTE-

All of these photos are from the Danganronpa 4コマ KINGS series. I do not own any of the drawings, but these photos are mine. All credit goes to Spike Chunsoft for the characters and the books themselves.

SIDE NOTE:

This part of my 4コマ KINGS series is request-based. If you'd like to see two characters together, let me know and I'll find those pictures! There won't always be enough to fill the image cap, but there are definitely some for everyone!

Time for me to show you what these goobers are up to :D

(Longer post than last time lol)

This is my favorite picture now :)

Lol they're either at each other's throats or besties, there is no in-between

The before and after ft. Makoto's amazing reactions that I couldn't bring myself to crop out

The power couple XD

MONDO ALWAYS LOOKS SO CONCERNED LMAO

Bro :D

Friendly competition!

They literally share one brain cell

Wonder how it broke hmmmmmm

(Mostly just including this one because LOOK AT TAKA OMFG--)

It's so funny how Taka is almost always positioned in front of Mondo. To me that just screams that Taka's the extrovert in this relationship lol

Mondo and Commander Ishimaru don't get along very well =w=;

I'm sure everyone's seen this iconic image already

"NO GETTING GIFTS FROM GIRLS >:("

Your honor, honestly shut the fuck up because you weren't even there

Everyone loves to harp on how dumb Taka can be when Mondo's just as bad lol

He took one look at Taka's color pallet and immediately thought he was the mastermind

what is this

no really what is happening here 0.0

MONDO MISSED HIS BIKE SO TAKA GOT HIM A CART HE'S SO HAPPY LOOK AT THEM

They're going back to their dorms now, goodnight everyone :D

~~~~~~~~~~~~

They're himbos, your honor

It's so obvious that I have favorites lol

I just think that their relationship (whether you ship them or just see them as friends) has so much comedic potential that everyone is sleeping on. Well, everyone except the fanfic writers lol

Let me know who you want to see next!

Next up: Sakura & Aoi!

Contents || <-Previous : Next->

[lanawinterscigarettes]

NSFW headcanons for Jennifer Check and a submissive male S/O?

Anon I love you sm for sending this request in 🥺💗

Jennifer Check with a submissive male s/o nsfw headcanons

Warnings: SMUT, (mean) femdom, submissive male reader (physical descriptions of the reader are pretty vague so this should be able to be read by either cis or trans readers. Lemme know if there's anything that needs to be added or changed)

Jennifer has a more dominant personality in general but it'd definitely be more prominent if her s/o was a guy

Hates being told what to do, but she may humor you every now and then to see just how far you'll go and just how bratty you'll get. It makes the punishment afterwards even more fun

Speaking of punishments, they tend to include spanking, edging/overstimulation, and being forced to watch her get off alone

The last one is her personal favorite. She loves fingering herself while taunting you, saying things like "I don't really need you anyway, I can get myself off just fine without you"

You're not allowed to touch yourself when this happens either :( not that she'd let you cum even if you were

She is such a power bottom!!! fight me on it lol

Listen she loves being in control but hates having to do all of the work y'know what I mean

That doesn't mean she won't tell you what to do though, she's still very bossy even on the bottom

Will flat out tell you if what you're doing isn't pleasing her/is wrong in any way. Sometimes she'll be condescendingly sweet while correcting you and other times she'll just roll her eyes as she grumbles out instructions

Obsessed with humiliation/pain kinks. She can and will step on you (specifically your crotch) if you allow her to

Makes fun of you if you cry at any point during sex but she honestly loves it so much. She just enjoys humiliating you so you'll cry even more (this feeds into her not-so-secret dacryphilia kink)

Also she will straight up abuse your cock btw, whether that be through edging/overstimulating you to the point of tears or just squeezing you a bit too tightly when jerking you off or allowing her teeth to graze your shaft while going down on you

This goes for if you have a t-dick too. Trans guys are not safe from her rough treatment lmao

Prefers receiving to giving because she loves the feeling of suffocating you between her thighs, whether that's from her laying on her back or sitting on your face

That's not to say she isn't fantastic at giving, though, she just has to be in the mood for it. And don't think that you'll get the chance to take control during this time, not when she literally has you by the balls

If you know about her being demon possessed, then believe me when I say she is fully intent on visiting you directly after her, ahem, meals because of how horny the bloodlust makes her. Oh, you don't find her all that attractive covered in sweat and the blood of her most recent victim? That's fine, you can just help her get cleaned up in the shower afterwards ;)

I think she'd be fairly good at pegging because of just how whiny and pathetic she can make you, but she hates all the work that goes into it. Getting her to be on top for an extended period of time is something that happens once in a blue moon, like as a gift for your birthday, but if you beg enough you might be able to convince her to pull out the strap-on. I just hope you like riding, because that's one of the requirements of it

She loves riding btw. Doesn't matter who's riding who, it's one of her favorite positions (and also one of the only times that she'll willingly top without any complaints)

Every session ends with you being marked up in some way, shape, or form. Hickeys, bite marks, bruises, scratches, the whole nine yards. If you want to mark her up too, then go right ahead, she fully supports it and is honestly a little disappointed if she doesn't have at least one physical reminder afterwards

If you piss her off enough but she still wants to have sex then she'll make you fuck her without being allowed to cum the entire time. Or she might finger herself and have you fuck her thighs/tits as a way to torture you

Adores any and every little sound you make. Moans, groans, whimpers, whines, etc. She wants to be able to hear you, which means you're expected to be loud enough to be heard over her own noises

She really doesn't mind fingering you or eating you out, but only if you beg enough. And then she has to hear your soft cries of pleasure while she does it, even with your face shoved into the pillows while you're on your knees with your ass up, or she'll stop. She just loves torturing you what can I say

Anything involving public sex is completely on the table. If she's feeling a bit less controlling one day she might wear a vibrator and give you the remote control to it, but if you tease her too much then your controller privileges will be taken away and you'll be forced to wear the vibrator every day for the rest of the entire week with it up to the highest setting as a punishment

Such a brat tamer. She loves to mock and belittle you while putting you back in your place for acting out, and that includes taunting you for getting aroused when she spanks you for getting an attitude with her

Even if you do behave she's still going to be a little mean unfortunately. She just can't help the way you look at her all cutely with tears in your eyes as you beg to cum (or in some cases stop cumming if you've been at it for a while)

End notes: okay I went a little crazy while writing this due to my excitement but I wanted to cover the most topics as possible (and I'm a little horny for Jen but really who can blame me)

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

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[newtonsheffield]

Recently learned the term "Golden Slam" in reference to a player who has won all four major titles, as well as an Olympic gold in the same year. I'm guessing Kate is teed up for such a victory? She would be in a rare group of three other women... including Graf in 1988 (and no one since). 👀

Oh for sure.

That’s the question everyone’s asking in the lead up to the US Open. Kate Sharma’s in the best form of her already impressive career. She’s won the Australian Open, French Open, Wimbledon, and not one but two gold medals. All she needs is to win the US Open and it’s done. She’s the defending Champion there and everyone’s talking about it. She’s asked again and Again about it in the lead up, and her answer’s always the same.

“Of course, that would be an incredible end to our season. My team and I have really worked hard this year, we’ve made a lot of changes to the way we do things and we’ve been seeing good results, obviously. But… that’s not really what we’re focused on coming into the tournament. I’m just focused on playing the best tennis I can.”

“Any winter plans after the WTA finals?”

“Yeah,” Kate laughed, “I’m going to sleep in and block my Mum’s calls for a few days. Bless her.”

Outwardly she’s pretending she doesn’t care. Of course she is, that’s who she is. But when she’s alone with Anthony in their hotel room of course it matters. Her head cushioned against his chest.

“I really want to do it.”

Anthony nodded, his fingers making soothing circles against the skin of her back. “You know you can still be the best without it right? You don’t have anything to prove to anyone.”

That was one of the things she loved about Anthony. His firm belief that everything she did should be for her. What other people said didn’t matter. It wasn’t wasting a gift if she didn’t win everything. Mary had tried to tell her the same so many times but it had been a lesson she had to learn for herself.

“I know. But I still want to win.”

Anthony’s chuckle vibrated through her. “Of course you do. We’re competitive monsters.”

“Our children are going to be wild.”

“Thinking about my babies? Calm down Sharma.”

Kate can hardly believe it when her opponent hits the ball and it lands in the net and the tension breaks and the crowd roars. Her racquet fell to the ground in surprise and tears stung at her eyes as she stepped forward to shake hands with the other woman and then the umpire.

Then she takes off running, climbing into the stands to the box where her family’s waiting for her. Tears are running down her face by the time she wraps her arms around Mary, then Edwina and finally Anthony who spins her around while the crowd roars.

“Go take a bow.”

It’s the first question she gets asked when she returns to centre court, a golden slam, how does that feel?

“Honestly, yeah it feels incredible. But, I didn’t do this by myself. Obviously my Mum, she nearly did this in the final year she was on the tour and I wanted to do this for the two of us. My sister who grumbles about filling in as my hitter but I don’t think a lot of people realise that at Wimbledon last year I was probably in the worst headspace of my life. I… genuinely don’t know if I’d still be playing tennis if I hadn’t met Anthony. He’s been a huge part of my success this year and I know he’d disagree with me but this success is his as well. I love you, let’s blow off work and go on holiday.”

The crowd roared with laughter and the season’s not done yet, but it feels done. For her it feels done. One of the greatest there ever was at 23, with years still to come in her career.