#everyone in the state of New Jersey will hear me

[metalgrateeater]

I would love to see fanart of less popular characters in athf like where’s all the Dumbassahedratron art I think a gijinka of him could be fun

Or like what abt mothmonsterman or oog or literally any character that isn’t master shake cmon y’all please 😭😭😭 there’s so many characters that get left out it’s so not fair DO NOT get me started on the frat aliens this will become a novel I need a 10 page apology from each of you on why there’s barely any art of these guys HELL I don’t even think I’ve like EVER seen happy time harry fanart y’all need to get to work NOW!!!!

[homestylehughes]

4 times quinn wanted to kiss you, and the 1 time he did.

pairing(s): Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

summary: 4 times quinn wanted to kiss you, and the time he did.

warning(s): absolutely nothing, pure fluff.

wc: 2.1k

an: hi loves!!! before i say anything, i think this might be my favorite fic, i've ever written, i love it so so much. it was so nice to sit down and write another fic, I had the best time writing this. i know the poll i put out wanted the nico x Hughes sister smut but this idea has a hold on me and i had to write it today, but i'm working on that fic currently as well! i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i do, like and reblog If you do! much love always <3

happy reading <3

1.

It had always been yn and quinn, quinn and yn, attached to the hip at 5 years old and neither of you wanted to let go. If you would have told Quinn that the little girl the jack pushed into the sandbox at 5 would be his best friend for the rest of his life, he'd think you're crazy. But here you guys are today starting the first day of college, together.

This wasn't exactly the plan for you guys, it just so happened you got into michigan, the same place quinn was signing to play hockey. 

Today was the first game of the season for Quinn, even though Quinn had played hockey for most of his life, he couldn't help but be scared to step on the ice for his first college game. The nerves are getting the best of him as they line up, ready to headout on the ice for warm ups. 

The first push on the ice takes away Quinn's voice as he looks around the arena at all of the fans in the crowd, his eyes glimmering with excitement as he takes it all in. his heart stops for a moment when he sees you standing in the stands with his family, dressed in his jersey, holding up a sign that says “number 43 is my favorite!”. Holding it high above you head, a wide smile breaking at across your face as look down at him skating on the ice. 

A smile spreads upon Quinn's face, as he looks at you and his family. At that moment he really wanted to kiss you. 

2. 

Quinns hands were shaking as he tried to tie his tie, his mind was everywhere else but where it needed to be. It was the day of the NHL draft, a night that would change the rest of his life and his families. He couldn't help but feel almost sick at the thought of moving to a new state or country, leaving everything and everyone he loved behind, including you. 

After five attempts of trying to tie his tie, he dramatically sighs, dropping his hands away from his chest. Staring at himself in the mirror trying to peace himself together, coaching himself to take deep breaths. Just as he starts to tie his tie again, he hears a soft knock on the hotel door. 

His mom had already ushered everyone out of the room around 30 minutes ago, telling everyone to give him some space. Quinn couldn't help but be annoyed at the fact that someone already was knocking on the other side of the door. Making his way to the door, his brain already settled on whoever was on the other side of the door a bit of hell for disturbing him. 

Opening the door slowly he sees you standing in the hallway, with a small smile on your way as you look at him. All of the anger he had harbored in him, immediately  disappears when he sees you. 

“Hi, i'm sorry to interrupt but i thought i'd just come check on you” she says 

“You weren't interrupting anything, thank you for coming and checking on me.'' Quinn says, pausing for a second clearing his throat. 

“I actually could use a bit of help, i can't tie my tie.” he says a little embarrassed 

“I can help, if you let me in your room, or we can stand here in the hallway whatever works best for you” yn giggles out. 

“Oh shit, i'm sorry come in '' he quickly says, his face heating with embarrassment. Yn quickly walks into the room, quinn shutting the door behind her. 

“Sit on the bed” she quietly says to him, quinn doesn't need to be told twice when it comes to her, taking a seat on the soft bed, leaving his legs slightly open, allowing you to stand in between them as she works on his tie. 

Their faces and bodies are so close together, his eyes catching hers for a moment. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to pull her on top of him and forget about the draft, forget about his future. Because at that moment, he really really wanted to kiss you. 

3. 

Quinn woke up to a constant banging on his front door, rolling on his side to see that the clock on his bed side table read, 3 a.m. “who the fuck is knocking on my door at 3 a.m?” Quinn thought to himself. Quinn trudging pulls himself out of bed, walking slowly downstairs hearing another round of knocking once he reaches the bottom of the stairs. 

Finally reaching his front door, he doesn't even bother looking through the peephole before opening the door. Opening the door he's met with a rain soaked yn on his front porch with flowers in her hand and a suitcase at her side. Quinn thinks he's dreaming as he looks at her, still half asleep. 

“You know i think i forgot how much it rains in vancouver during the summer, as you can see im soaked” yn chuckles out. “Also how dare you not tell me you were being named captain, I'm very upset that I had to find out through an instagram post. But I'll get over that because I missed you, so I flew all of the way here to surprise you.” 

“OH! These flowers are for you” she says, holding out the slightly weeping flowers in front of her.

“I promise they looked better, the rain…ruined them” she says smiling sadly at him.

“I'm so sorry i woke you up with the banging, my phone died and i don't have a key-” 

Quinn quickly cuts her rambling off by pulling her into the tightest hug known to man, spinning her around, as if he never wants to let her go. 

“I'm so happy you're here” quinn says, as he sets her down, his arms wrapped around her. 

“I'm so happy I'm here too.” yn says, looking up at quinn, he can see something in her eyes, love maybe? He’s not sure, but what he is sure of is that he really wants to kiss her, and it's killing me everyday that he hasn't. 

4.

They lost. They lost. They lost in game seven, their playoff run was over. All of their blood, sweat and tears couldn't help them win this game. Quinn couldn't help but let the weight of loss fall on his shoulders as they skate off the ice. The walk to the locker room felt like an eternity. The room is quiet as the players strip out of their gear. He couldn't help but let a few tears fall as he got undressed. Feeling like he let his team, his family, the fans down. 

Quinns mind couldn't focus during the press conference, giving the reporters one to two sentence answers. He didn't want to be there, he wanted to think about anything else other than hockey. He wanted to cry alone, he wanted the voices in his head to stop, he didn't want to be here. 

After the press wraps up, Quinn quickly grabs his things heading out the locker room, as he turns the corner he sees you sitting against the wall, quickly turning your head when you hear footsteps down the hall, making eye contact. 

Quinn had completely forgotten where even at the game, the loss of the game, completely taking over his mind. 

“Yn, what are you still doing here?” he asks as he reaches her, offering her a hand to get off the ground. 

Wordlessly she takes his hand, pulling his bag out of his other hand placing it on the ground below them. Before wrapping her hands around his neck pulling him down into a hug, Quinn's arms instantly wrapping around her waist, his body melting into hers. His face resting in her neck as he feels tears fall out of his eyes, as he clings to her body. 

They stand like this for a few minutes, quinn’s tears finally settling before yn pulls back, running her fingers under quinns eyes wiping away his tears.

“I'm so proud of you, win or lose. I'm so so so proud of you Quinn, please never forget that '' she says, holding his face in between her hands. 

“I love you” quinn mumbles out as he begins to cry again. 

“I love you more” she says, “now let's get you out of here, i think you need one of gina's world famous burgers hm?” she says, grabbing his bag from the floor. Holding her hand out for him to grab, Quinn doesnt waste a second before sliding his hand into her as they head towards the exit. 

Quinns head is no longer filled with thoughts about the game, about hockey. It's filled with thoughts about you, about how much he loves you, and how badly he wants to kiss you. 

+1.

Quinn can't count on his hands how many times he's been to the lake house during the summer, but each time he does it better than the year before. Making new memories with the people who he loves, making new memories with you. 

Quinn insisted that you come to the lake house with him a week before everyone else did, he wanted to spend as much time with you before everyone else got here, and you couldn't say no to that. 

So this brings you to where you guys are now, sitting on the boat in the middle of the lake, watching as the sun sets across the sky. The sky casting hues of pinks and purples across the lake. Quinn couldn't help but look at you as you stare at the scene around you, seeing you look so relaxed and at peace, he couldn't help but smile. 

“I can feel you staring at me” yn giggles out, still looking at the lake in front of her. 

“I was just taking in the scenery” he says 

“Mhm, and that just happens to be my face?” she says, turning to look at him with a smile that matches his on her face. 

“Maybeee” quinn playfully says.

“Well it's creepy so stop it” she says playfully rolling her eyes at him

“And what if I don't?” he asks

“I'll feed you to the sharks” 

“Pretty girl there isn't any sharks out here” quinn says laughing at her

“Stop laughing at me” she says, sending a quick shove to quinns shoulder, causing him to fall back against boat. 

“Oh that's it” quinn days before launching himself at her, pinning her down before his hands start to attack her sides. 

“ QUINN PLEASE NO” she pleads out to him as he tickles her. Laughs fell from both of their lips as they attacked each other. 

“I CAN'T BREATH” yn laughs out as Quinn tickles the skin behind her neck, knowing its sweet spot. Deciding to give in to her pleas, he stops his attack on her neck. Her chest rising steadily as he looks down at her, her lips slightly parted, the plump skin almost looks like its calling is name. 

Before he knows what he’s doing, he slowly lowers his face closer to hers, softly connecting their lips together in a sweet kiss. Yn kisses him back almost instantly, her hands wrapping around his neck pulling him closer to her. The once soft kiss turned hot and desperate quickly, a tension they've been dancing around for years, as finally broken like a dam, and neither of them wanted to stop. 

Neither of them wants to pull away, but the need for air begs them too, Quinn pulling away first causing you to whine at the loss of contact. Looking at her with swollen lips and love filled eyes. 

“I've wanted to do that for awhile” quinn says 

“How long?” she asks as he works hard with the hair on the bottom of his neck.

“Ever since i saw you for the first time” 

“Quinn we were five” she laughs

“I knew what I wanted at five,” he laughs, pushing a piece of hair out of her face. “And i've known that i've always wanted you” he finishes

“I love you” yn says

“I love you more” he replies

“I don't think you do” yn quips back 

“Let me show you how much i do” quinn says before connecting their lips back together, because at that moment quinn wanted to kiss you, and this time he did.

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ game day ] n. hischier

day seven of malia’s christmas fic marathon

paring : Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) flies into the states early to surprise and watch her boyfriend play a game before he goes on the short Christmas break

warning(s) : none

author’s note : sorry that this is on the shorter side but i am tryinggg to catch up on fics for the marathon (i timed this out really poorly bc i didn’t realize how exhausted i would be from work everyday)

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The plane lands 20 minutes before game time so she has to rush to get to the Prudential Center from Newark airport. It should only be a 10 minute drive but it’s a few days before Christmas so everyone is flying in to spend the holidays with their families.

Including (Y/N).

She's lucky that her Uber is waiting for her right outside the airport after she grabs her suitcase from baggage claim. There is already a ton of traffic leaving the airport and she groans as she checks the time. She's going to miss warmups but maybe she can get there in time for puck drop.

There's a text from Nico that comes through as she finally leaves the airport.

neeks ❦ - 6:59 pm can't wait to see you after the game. gonna score a goal or two for you tonight. text me when you land. i love you, mien liebling ♡

(Y/N) realizes that he's back in the locker room between warmups and puck drop. Traffic finally begins to clear up so the Uber speeds up going into Newark. Her knee bounces in the backseat as she keeps an eye on the time.

"Anxious for the Devils game tonight?" The Uber asks with a thick New York accent. "I see you're headed to the Rock."

"Just anxious I won't get there in time for puck drop," she replies. "My boyfriend is playing in the game and I wanted to surprise him before the puck dropped but I didn't realize how much traffic there would be two days before Christmas."

The Uber looks very surprised when she says that her boyfriend is playing. "Devils player, I hope?" he curiously asks as he looks in the rearview mirror at her.

"Yeah," she replies. "I'm not wearing 13 for no reason."

"Ah, the captain," he says as he pulls out front of the Prudential Center. "Good choice. Well, good luck to the boys tonight. Hopefully they can bring home this dub against Detroit."

Yeah, me too. She doesn't say it out loud as she gets out of the car. She grabs her suitcase and heads around the building where she knows Nico parks all the time.

(Y/N) puts her suitcase in the trunk of Nico's car with the extra key she has before she heads to the back entrance of the building. With a flash of the VIP badge and ticket that she bought to security, (Y/N) gets into the back entrance of the Prudential Center with no issues.

She can hear the starting lineups being announced as she rushes through the concourse so they haven't even gotten to the National Anthem yet as she practically sprints to the seat she bought.

The singer is being announced as she walks down the steps to her front row seat right next to the Devils' bench. Luckily, Nico is standing closest to the glass on the ice as the singer begins to sing.

She isn't being very subtle with the way she's walking in front of everyone. When she looks on the ice, she sees that her boyfriend is looking at her. Nico smiles and bites his bottom lip when she looks at him. She gives him a small wave then shows him the jersey she's wearing. He has to repress the smile that threatens to spill onto his lips.

Then applause breaks out throughout the arena, signaling that the anthem has ended. Nico puts his helmet back on and skates to his teammates. (Y/N) settles down in her seat and sends Nico a 'looking good out there' text she knows he will see at intermission.

Their eyes occasionally find each other throughout the game. Jack even notices Nico looking toward her at one point during a power play and says something to his captain. Nico's face turns visibly red when he looks at his alternate. Jack laughs at whatever Nico says to him. (Y/N) can't help but capture Nico's flustered face as he gets ready for the faceoff. She'll have to ask him about it later.

Timo scores one in the second period and one in the third. Tyler scores the game winner with eight minutes left in the third, and the Devils hang on for the win. Nico gets a couple shots on goal but no puck luck.

As first star of the game Timo gets interviewed on the ice, (Y/N) makes her way to Nico's car.

She doesn't know if she's shivering from how cold it is outside or if it's because she's excited to see her boyfriend for the first time in over a week. Either way, her entire body is shaking.

While she waits for Nico, she leans against his car and scrolls through social media. There are clips of her arriving to the game and Nico's reaction to seeing her all over Twitter. She can't help but share one of the videos of Nico's reaction with a little heart emoji. The replies and quotes start rolling in almost immediately. The Devils fans are loving the confirmation that Nico was looking at her during the anthem.

The door opens and (Y/N) watches Nico walk into the parking lot with Jack, Luke, Jonas, and Timo. She smiles and walks up to the group.

"Congratulations on your two goal night, Timo," she says to get the group's attention. "And first star." Timo smiles in response but doesn't have time to say anything before Nico finally makes a move.

He immediately envelopes her in a hug as soon as he processes that she's standing in front of him. She giggles when her boyfriend lifts her off her feet. She wraps her legs around his waist so she doesn't fall. "I think that's our cue to leave," Timo tells the Hughes boys as he walks in the direction of his car.

Jack laughs, "Have a good night, cap."

"Use protection," the youngest Hughes states as he, Jack, and Timo head to their cars. She smiles at Luke's comment.

Nico has no reaction to what his teammates say. He's busy burying his face in (Y/N)'s neck and holding her in his arms. "

They stay like this for a few seconds before Nico finally sets her back down on the ground. His hands cup her jaw and she wraps her arms around his waist under his jacket. "I thought your flight was going to get in while I was playing," Nico finally says to her.

"And miss your last game before the short winter break?" she asks with a smile on her lips. "Absolutely not. I know you guys haven't been playing very well and I know how that's been making you feel so I wanted to be here tonight. Proud of you and the boys for bringing in a win going into the break."

A little frown forms on his lips. "You didn't have to leave your family early just to be here for me," he tells her. "Oh my God."

She fixes his beanie and lets out a light laugh. "They told me to come back," she admits to him. "I told them about our conversation after the last game and how I wished I could be there for you because of how frustrated you were so I switched to an earlier flight. Seemed to do the trick because you won tonight."

Nico smiles and shakes his head. His thumbs run over her cheekbones and he sighs. "I truly don't deserve you," he quietly says. "Best girlfriend ever."

"Best boyfriend ever," she retorts as she gets on her tiptoes. They share a quick, soft kiss that Nico tries to deepen but she doesn't let it get too far away from them. "Can we go home? I miss Nala and her cuddles."

He laughs at the mention of their kitten that they adopted a month ago. "Yes, we can go home," he says. "Pretty sure Nala misses you too. She cried right after you left and has slept on your side of the bed every night you've been away."

They get in the car and Nico takes off the beanie. Her jaw drops.

"You asshole," she gasps as Nico starts the car. "You cut your hair."

Nico smiles and she runs her fingers through his shortened locks. "It was too long, liebling," he laughs as he pulls out of the parking spot. "It was getting in the way more often than not." She pouts and Nico notices. "It'll grow back, baby. Promise."

"And you better not cut it again without my approval," she retorts. "You know how much I love the longer hair. Don't make me hide all of the scissors in New Jersey and New York, because I will."

"So dramatic."

"You love me anyway."

He glances over at her with a small smile on his face. "Yeah, I do."

༺═──────────────═༻

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[honeipie]

HOCKEY BOYS

part 2; izuku midoryia x fem!reader

synopsis: the captain of japan’s hockey team has his eye on the coach’s daughter

( the smaller font is gonna be a flashback! )

izuku midoryia, the black heron. people never really know what they are, and that’s what adds to his un-expecting nature. the black heron is most known for its unique methods for catching prey. the bird forms its wings to look like an umbrella, keeping out light from under them. the fish then mindlessly assume that this is shelter, some sort of safe haven. that is until the heron strikes, making sure that nothing is left behind.

he never wanted to get into any fights. if he had participated in one it’s likely because he had been roped into it trying to get katsuki out.

there were two reasons he didn't feel the need to fight. one, he just wasn't raised that way. if inko knew that he was picking any fight he could get she would drag him out of the rink by his ear. and the second was you.

"i don't like seeing you get hurt izu. especially when it's because of someone else" you had snuck back into the locker room once all of the players, plus your dad, had went home. the first aid kit sat by your side because he didn't let anybody else tend to him. he had said he was fine, but you weren't just going to let him go on in his current state.

"i know, i'm sorry" he mumbled under his breath, almost embarrassed that you had to see him this way "i just wanted to pull kacchan out of there. you know how he can be"

you placed a band aid on his cheek before placing your hand over it "i know you worry about him, but sometimes it's okay to let him fight his own battles. how will he learn if he never gets a chance?" his eyes gazed into yours and finally gave in. he let out a sigh leaning his head more into your hand.

"you're right. i'm sorry again"

you giggled at the sight of him. practically melting into you with the most apologetic tone. leaning in you placed a soft peck on his lips "it's okay my love. you're just trying to be the best captain you can be"

the kiss left him with a giddy smile on his face. he just loved you so much. it's not like he didn't want to make your relationship known to the world, he did. it's just your father was the problem.

yes, he was an amazing coach and mentor, but he played no games when it came to you. and yes, the two of you were both adults and could do what you wanted. it’s just that both of you knew that the news would probably piss him off for the rest of the season.

it really all started at one of the first practices you had attended, denki decided that it would be a bright idea to discuss just how attractive you were in the locker room.

"i mean did you even see her? she's gorgeous!"

sero chuckled grabbing his jersey "gorgeous, yeah, but she's the coach's kid, so messing with her is some dangerous game you're playing"

denki shrugged with a smirk on his face "i ain't afraid of a challenge" the locker room went silent after that comment. denki lifted his head up with a raised eyebrow "c'mon you can't tell me that you wouldn't want to get with her!"

"get with who exactly?"

the voice made denki's blood run cold. he gulped silently as he turned in his spot. he came face to face with your father who did not look happy. arms crossed, he took another step closer to him.

"get with who?"

“i- nobody-“

“i should shove you against these lockers right now. don’t ever speak of my daughter like that again do you hear me?” he looked up making sure to make eye contact with every single player in that room “this goes out for everyone. if one of you even thinks about getting with her then breakin’ her heart i swear i’ll make your career living hell. do you understand?”

a bunch of yes sir’s could be heard around the room. it was right on time, because you had just made your way into the locker room but with your back turned.

“everyone is decent right? i don’t wanna see anyone’s junk”

“you’re fine y/n” your dad shook his head as you turned around with a smile. in your hand you held a plate of cookies with labels on some of them “sweetheart, why would you bring those everyone’s on a strict diet”

you rolled your eyes taking off the plastic wrap “dad i know. that’s why i made the healthier cookies not the regular ones. they have flaxseed, bananas, oats, stuff like that!” you looked around the room with a happy smile “does anybody want one?”

the team looked down at the plate of cookies, then at you father. he nodded in approval which made them cheer in approval. you went around the locker room handing them each a cookie. when you got to izuku it was like the world stopped for a moment. freckles scattered across his face, and shifting when he went to smile.

his smile.

it was one of those things that you would never get tired of.

you’ve had a crush on him for a while, but had only seen him on television or from a distance. when your father said you could help out at the rink you’ve never been faster to agree.

“y/n?”

the sound of your name quickly pulled you from your daydreaming. izuku had been calling your name growing concerned each time you didn’t answer.

“sorry! i zoned out for a second there”

the smile made its way back onto his face hearing you were okay “good, i just wanted to know what the options were”

you explained everything that you had and he ended up taking one of the more plain cookies. deciding it was now or never, you made some conversation.

“you’re the captain right? how’s captaining?” what a smooth talker you were.

he chuckled a bit at your question “yeah, i am. captaining has been good. just hoping i can lead my guys to victory, y’know?”

you nodded along ready to leave before you embarrassed yourself any more, but there was one more thing you had to say.

“you’re doing great. the way you encourage your teammates and bring them all together is really inspiring. you can even tell the difference in the way they’re playing. just keep doing what you’re doing” with a smile you walked off going to hand off the last of your cookies.

red, everything was red. izuku had to turn his whole body just to make sure your father didn’t see the way he was blushing. the compliments you gave him were like cupid’s arrows to the heart.

katsuki stood next to him watching the whole interaction go down. with a shake of his head he sighed “you’re in fuckin’ trouble”

you had been “seeing” each other for a couple of weeks, but decided to make it official about six months ago. both of you being extremely happy and secure in your current relationship, and maybe when the hockey season was over you could really settle.

by the next game, izuku could take the small bandages off his face. there was no pre-game routine the two of you had, you didn’t need one. he knew you were there for him and only him, and you trusted him enough not to do anything. though you did keep a piece of him with you as he played.

usually you would wear a hoodie to games, so underneath you would wear one of his shirts. and don’t think forgot about you. izuku had carved your initials into his favorite hockey stick long ago. you decided on sitting in the box with the players on the bench, just on a separate chair. this game would be a big one, and you could tell by your fathers pacing back and forth.

“they’ve got this dad, don’t worry”

he sat down next to you with a heavy sigh “i know honey. we just can’t have anything go wrong” you gave him a pat on the back as you watched them line up. izuku had took his place with a focused gaze.

he was naturally a fun and playful person, but as soon as he stepped onto that ice, it was go time.

the starting sound rang out and they were off. speeding across the ice like their lives depended on it. you cheered every time a goal was scored making sure izuku could hear you above the others.

they were doing amazing in the first two periods. always up by at least three points. plus not even one fight insinuated from katsuki. it’s in the third period where you saw things start to get a little rocky. izuku was starting to slip. every time a certain player from the opposing team got near him he would miss a shot completely.

your dad whistled for him to come back over to the bench “kid the hell are you doing? get it together before you’re benched for the rest of the game, you hear me?” izuku gave him a silent nod, but you could tell that he was barely listening. you wanted to reach out, to ask what’s wrong, but all you could do was sit back and watch it happen. it was a good minute before izuku was let back on the ice again.

he had seemed to regather himself and was able to shoot a few passes, but once the player came back it all went downhill.

you could see your dad shaking his head out of the corner of your eye “dad maybe it’s just an off day. everybody has them-“

you had looked away for a second.

and when you looked back you saw izuku yelling at one of the players from the other team. the player had shoved him hard which gave izuku an opening. balling up his fists he sent a punch directly to his right cheek, but he didn’t stop there. he made sure to grab his jersey and pull him down to the ground with one hand and still tried to punch him with the other.

the refs finally stopped it when they saw the other guys nose was starting to bleed. two of them just had to pull izuku off the guy. he had been so distracted by what the guy said he didn’t even know he had kept going. you watched as they didn’t even drag him to the penalty box, but off the ice.

he couldn’t even look at you as he walked down the hallway back into the locker rooms.

“what the hell’s gotten into him-“

you didn’t wait for your dad to finish his sentence as you climbed over the small wall and headed down into the locker rooms.

“izu?” you saw him sitting on one of the benches head down and in his hands. there was some room next to him so you sat down gently rubbing his back “baby what happened out there?”

he didn’t talk right away, just trying to get his breathing back under control.

“they were just- just talking a bunch of shit. i didn’t care when they were doing it about me, that’s whatever. but somehow they know about me and you. the only people that really know is the team. i’m not sure how it even got to him”

it finally clicked. how he was playing, how the players kept getting close to him.

“you did it cause they were talking about me? izu you didn’t have to”

he shook his head “no, no i did have to. y/n you’re my girlfriend. if you think i’m gonna let some douchebag insult you when you’re not there to defend yourself then you’re crazy”

“oh izu” you cupped the other side of his cheek going to turn his head to face you. at first he wouldn’t meet your eyes, but it didn’t take long for his to find yours again “i am very thankful that you defended me like that. i would even say it was very, very hot”

this made him laugh, showing the smile you fell in love with.

“what i’m trying to say is thank you” you leaned in giving him a long kiss. when you pulled away you finally noticed the cuts and spot that was definitely going to bruise “i’ll get something to clean you up” you went to turn on the bench but stopped seeing someone standing in the doorway. the two of you stared in shock for a second before you got up “dad don’t do anything stupid”

he walked closer to the two of you, nodding his head towards the other hallway “the first aid kit hasn’t been refilled from the last fight. can you go find someone who can do that for us?”

“dad i don’t think”

“y/n”

“fine” you leaned down to kiss izuku’s cheek, but also whispered in his ear “i’ll be right back”

once you turned the corner, your father sat down next to izuku with a sigh. the green haired male looked down at his hands unsure what to say.

“son-“

“i love your daughter” he blurted out cheeks bright pink from embarrassment “really, really love her. and i know you don’t want anyone from the team dating her-“

“midoryia-“

“no sir, i’m sorry i have to finish this” izuku looked him straight in his eyes a small lump forming in his throat. this could either go amazingly well, or absolutely horrible. your father stared him down for a couple of seconds before nodding that he could continue “thank you sir” after taking a deep breath he went on to start.

“i tried to respect your wishes, i did. but every time i saw her, it was like i was drawn to her. i wanted to make her laugh because i love her laugh. and i wanted to make her smile more than anyone or anything. you raised such a kind, beautiful, and caring daughter that i just- just can’t imagine my life without. sorry if you think this is not manly of me, it’s definitely not how i thought this was going to go. thought i’d puff my chest out and do some big ‘it’s not your choice anyway’ shit but i’m not like that” he shook his head “you’re her father, and i respect that. i wanted to let you know how i really feel, and that she’s in good hands”

your father listened intently to izuku’s lovesick rambling. he noticed the way he smiled when he talked about you. along with some far off look in his eye. probably daydreaming about the future the two of you hold. lifting up a hand he clapped izuku on the back “i appreciate everything you’ve said. and i hope this doesn’t make it any less when i say this but.. i already knew about the two of you. maybe not dating but i could tell from every interaction the two of you had that something was going on”

izuku’s mouth hung open at the news. he just couldn’t believe that he had hid it for this long.

“i trust you. i trust you on the ice, and i trust you with my daughter. you’ve been nothing but good to her. so if you want my blessing you’ve had it for a long time. for what you two are doing now, and any plans you have in the future” with his other hand he tapped one of izuku’s fingers making his face turn a deeper shade of red.

“thank you sir. i’ve been thinking about it a lot lately and-“

“thinking about what?” you asked walking into the room with a first aid kit. eyebrows knit together at the sight of your fathers hand on izuku’s shoulder “dad please tell me you didn’t threaten him or something. i’m a grown woman and i think i should be able to be with whoever i want” you’ve been mustering up the courage to say that ever since you’ve retrieved the first aid kit. your father got up heading over to you.

“i agree”

“i can try to see where you’re coming from but- huh?” you stopped your practiced speech when he came over to hug you.

“he’s a good kid, and i can tell he loves you” he placed a gentle kiss at the top of your head “im sorry that i made you feel like you needed to hide this from me. your mother has told me countless times that we need to set boundaries and i never listened, but i am now”

you started to tear up, but quickly blinked them away “thank you dad. that means a lot” a horn sounded meaning that the brake was now over. he stepped away going back into the doorway before turning around.

“midoryia this doesn’t mean that you’re off the hook. you’re out for the rest of the game so get cleaned up” he pointed towards the two of you “but not together”

your face got hot and you grabbed the nearest jacket and threw it at him “get out!” he let out a roaring laugh that echoed through the halls until he was gone. shaking you head you sat next to izuku again “the audacity of that man” you mumbled going to open up the first aid kit but he stopped you.

izuku gently grabbed your one hand placing a kiss to your wrist. this made you giggle but you didn’t pull away “what’s with you?”

he then placed a kiss to the back of your hand “i’m just happy he found out. it’s like a weight lifted off my shoulders” you hummed in agreement.

“so what did you tell him?”

the last kiss was placed on your fingers. the fingers that intertwined with his own. the fingers that held his face every time you wanted his attention. the fingers that soon would be accented with a beautiful wedding ring.

“the truth”

[pablitogavii]

Can you write something angsty and smuttywith Gavi, having a hard time because of the alc, thinking that reader will want to leave him because he’s no longer doing football but she reassures him ? Thanksss

Be mine

Some months after the injury, Pablo really got into a depressive state and the two of you broke up. He said he wasn't giving you what he deserve and wanted you to keep going without him.

Restless nights, tears and screaming followed as you begged him not to do all of this. You knew he loved you, but you also stopped recognizing this boy as your Pablo.

There was no more smile, laughs and positivity in his life. You understood what he was going through and wanted to stay besides him but when he asked you to leave, that's all you could do.

After three months, you were finally sleeping again and didn't cry at least once a day. You had to keep living and despite missing him more every day, you decided to give your dating life a chance again.

angel: can't wait to see you!

you: me too :)

After replying you looked through your wardrobe for an outfit internally thanking yourself for packing away Gavi's jerseys into a box so you don't see them. It was a hard day but it helped you be able to move on somehow.

You called Mikky to show her your options and she was currently on the call glad to see you finally smiling again.

"Is he a nice guy, or should I get the boys to fix him up for you???" she said and you smiled knowing he talked about players who were still your closest friends. They were all disappointed when they heard about the breakup.

"He's sweet. We don't know each other that well" you say putting on the jewelry feeling a lump in your throat wondering if you're making a big mistake. But then you reminded yourself that Pablo wanted you to leave ... and you had to move on.

"I'm glad you're in this place now girl, it warms my heart to see your smile again" she said and you smiled nodding your head and refocusing on getting ready for your date.

Meanwhile Frenkie, Pedri and Balde went to visit Pablo at home where he lived in complete chaos. His parents traveled back home for some work and he was in even worse state than before.

"Y/n's going on a date tonight ..." Frenkie said and everyone gave him a stern look. But he had something in mind ... he knew Pablo still loved you and he needed to snap out of all of it.

"Frenkie!" Pedri said and Pablo looked at him with terrified face

"He needs to hear the truth! You broke up with a love of your life who wanted to be there fore you! You're a fool Gavi!" Frenkie said and Pablo was gulping fighting back tears.

"This isn't helping him hermano ..." Balde said when pablo went to the bathroom not wanting to cry in front of the boys.

"This is the only thing that can help him" Frenkie said.

Meanwhile Pablo opened instagram only to find your new post ...it was true ...he messed it all up ...you're not his anymore.

y.n.bebe

Barcelona, Spain

Date night 🍷

comentarios:

mikkykiemeney: beautiful 😍

y.n.bebe: 💗💗💗

gavibaby: i can't get over that it's not with gavi 😨

pablitoo: she belongs with gaviiii😍

y.n.fanss: they are no longer together so respect her!

pedri: miss you hermanita!

y.n.bebe: miss you!!!

ansufati: we need to hang out soon!

y.n.bebe: yesss!!!

barcafans: everyone loves y/n!!!

y.n.bebe: siempre cule!

Pablo couldn't get comfortable to sleep that night. All he could think about is where you were, who you were with, and weather you were safe ... he just wanted you safe in his arms right now.

The whole dinner you were bored ...the guy was trying really hard ...but you couldn't help think of the first date you had with Gavi ...the way you looked at each other ...the butterflies in your stomach.

Just then the last thing you expected happened, your phone rang and you saw Pablo's message on the screen. You froze. His name on your screen was a nice memory.

pablitooo: please come over. i need you. it's important.

you: On my way

You excused yourself taking an Uber and giving them Pablo's address. You were so nervous praying that he was fine no matter what. The first thought is that he fell and got more hurt.

You knocked and Pablo slowly walked towards the door feeling sweaty and nervous. He was gonna see you first time since few months. He slowly opened reveling your worried eyes.

"Thank God you're fine" was all you said and he smiled remembering how panicked you used to be whenever he would get hurt especially since the surgery. He missed that.

"Please come in preciosa ..." Pablo said and you felt a shiver move down your spine, that nickname.

"Would you like coffee or tea? I still have your black tea." he said and you said it was fine because you didn't want him to stand on that leg knowing he must still be in pain.

"You look beautiful tonight ... and always" he said and you blushed. God why was Gavi flirting with you now. It drove you mad as usual.

"I had a date ..." you said seeing his eyes drop. It was hurting him but you wanted to see if he even cared anymore.

"I know ... Frenkie told me today" he said after gulping heavily

"Of course he did. What did you want?" you say trying to keep guard because after giving up on you he really did hurt you. It was obvious tho that he still and always will own your heart ... after all you were at his house now.

"I wanted to take you away from him. I couldn't handle it preciosa. I'm sorry." he said and you appreciated that he was honest. You knew it was the truth because you knew he still loved you too.

"You calling me preciosa ..." you say and he interrupted

"I'm sorry" he said quietly

"I missed it" you said and it was a grand surprise for him.

"I don't deserve you ..." he said turning around and you sigh getting up and walking to him sitting down on his lap making sure it's on his healthy leg.

"Are you pushing me away again Pablito ..." you say running your fingers through his hair and he looked up at you with tearful eyes.

"Besame ..." you whisper and he sighs staring at your lips longingly.

"I'm broken preciosa ... and broken people break others" he was crying now and you were caressing his face resting your forehead against his.

"I'm broken without you ..." you were crying too now and he held your face drying off your tears and finally done what he should have done the first moment he saw you again. His lips were dancing with yours as everything suddenly stopped and you were each others whole world.

"Be mine ...please be mine again" he was gasping into your mouth and you smiled nodding fast and continuing to kiss him repeatedly feeling hungry and desperate.

pablogavi

Be mine?

comentarios:

y.n.bebe: always yours 😍😍😍

gavi.y.n.fans: YES! YES! YES!

gavii: finally my heart is whole!!!

mikkykiemeney: OMG😍😍😍

y.n.bebe: hehehe🥺🥺🥺

frenkiedejong: finally hermano!

pablogavi: thank you hermano❤️❤️

pedri:❤️❤️❤️

alejandrobalde: parentsss

y.n.bebe: favorite son😂😂😂

ansufati: amigaaa mia i love you with my best friend!!!

y.n.bebe: love you amigooo!!!

y.n.bebe

I belong with him 💗💗💗

comentarios:

pablogavi: amorrr preciosa miaaa❤️❤️

comments limited

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Sleight of Hand

[A/N: I DID IT! I finished my Steve x reader undercover op fic, and I kind of love it??? I hope those of you who were looking forward to it enjoy it too 😈🖤 Thank you to everyone who encouraged me to write this as a full blown fic! Over 5.7k words hehe whoops]

—————

When your former mentor had contacted you about an opening at her coral reef research lab, moving from Camden to Oahu had been a no brainer. You’d packed up your life in New Jersey and been on a plane to the Aloha State within a week. Your favorite cousin, who’s truthfully more like the big brother you always wanted, had been elated to hear the news, welcoming you at the airport with open arms and two simple rules.

“Always answer the phone when I call so you don’t worry me to death,” Danny had said, holding up one finger, “and two,” he added a second, “you’re an adult and you can date anyone on this island-”

“Thank… you?”

“-but stay away from this schmuck.”

The schmuck in question had simply rolled his eyes, draped a beautiful lei around your neck, and greeted you with a warm hug. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Steve.”

Your confident promise to your cousin had been broken a whopping two months later- and no, you hadn’t ignored one of his phone calls.

“Did you get me a beer?” you ask with a teasing lilt to your voice, wringing out your wet hair before dropping down onto the bench beside your boyfriend. A quick glance around reveals that Danny’s over by the shrimp truck with Kamekona, and you lean forward to steal a kiss before putting some space between yourself and your favorite brunette.

“I surely did not,” Steve sasses back and takes a swig of his ice cold beverage. “Alcohol and diving do not mix. But I did happen to get a mango smoothie from that one place down the road this pretty girl I know really likes.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm,” he responds, a goofy grin spreading across his handsome face. “But, uh, she didn’t show, so I guess you can have it.”

You laugh and give him a playful shove, then let out a content hum as you pop the straw through the lid and take a grateful sip. “So good,” you moan in delight, and Steve has to bite his lip to refrain from making a comment when he spots Danny approaching the table with your regular orders.

“Hey, you.” Your cousin greets you with a kiss on the cheek before taking up residence on the bench across from you and Steve. “Why’re you sitting all the way over there, huh? You like that clown better or somethin’?”

“This guy?” you snort, taking your lunch off the tray and rifling through the napkins in search of a fork.

“Ouch.” Steve winces as if burned by your comment, and you surreptitiously squeeze his thigh beneath the table.

“So tell me about this case you’ve got,” you coax your cousin to change the subject, spearing some grilled veggies on the plastic fork’s tines and scooping up a respectable mound of rice on top.

“So there’s a diamond smuggling ring-” Danny starts, and you immediately cut him off with, “Shut up, that doesn’t happen in real life.” You turn to Steve for confirmation, but there’s no provocative arch to his eyebrow or twitching of his lips to suggest this is a joke. “Are you serious right now? BFFR, Danno.”

“I don’t- I don’t know what that means. Why are you making me feel old?”

“Be fucking for real,” you and Steve supply in unison, and you smile proudly at him. “You’re learning!”

“Between you and Gracie, I keep up, okay?”

“Oh, between my baby cousin and my daughter, you- okay, that’s excellent,” Danny proclaims, his tone indicating it’s anything but. “Anyway, they’re using poker games as a cover to uh, collect their product, shall we say.”

“There’s enough rich people on Oahu with actual diamonds?” you ask, incredulous. “And here I am working like a pleb for paper currency.”

“Word,” Steve seconds your statement, raising his beer in a toast. You clink your smoothie against it before taking another refreshing sip and asking, “So how’re you gonna catch them?”

“Well, there’s a high roller tournament on Friday night that we’re betting they’ll hit. We wanted to go in undercover and flush them out but…” Steve trails off and gazes at you thoughtfully, but Danny’s shaking his head before the words have even formed on the brunette’s lips.

“No, absolutely not. Don’t even think about it, Steve.”

“What?” You turn to him, excitement coursing through your veins at the way his eyes have lit up. “Think about it! And tell me what you’re thinking about.”

“You could go undercover with me to the tournament, help me gather some intel. Maybe we get you to confirm the diamonds are actually in their possession and-”

“No!” Danny chimes in again. “What’s the matter with you, huh? These guys have killed two people, Steve. It’s too dangerous for her.”

“First off, fuck that-”

“Language.”

With an eye roll, you amend, “Forget that. More importantly, shouldn’t Danny go undercover? You kind of suck at poker, Steve.” You feel a sharp pinch at your side and you yelp in protest, slapping at the Navy SEAL. “It’s true, you little-”

“You’re not going,” Danny says definitively. “What about Tani?”

Steve shakes his head. “Tani and Junior have already questioned two of the men involved. They’ll be made before they even get to the table.”

You cross your arms and level your cousin with a smirk. “Sounds like you need me, Danno.”

“Then I’m going with you,” he declares.

“Yeah, no, hard pass,” you backpedal. “Even as a former thespian, there’s no way I can convincingly play arm candy for you without it being weird.”

“So, it’s settled then, little Williams,” Steve says with a grin. “You and me. Friday night. The high roller table at the Ilikai Hotel.”

__________

“This whole affair is giving very much Ocean’s Thirteen,” you remark as you lean into the mirror to line your puckered lips with Devil’s Den red. “The diamond heist, the poker game… it’s all so exciting.”

“Except this isn’t Hollywood and a bullet will actually hurt,” your cousin ever so graciously reminds you, trying to tug the slit ends of your dress together and then grunting in displeasure when the action reveals more of your bare back. “You’ve gotta be kidding me with this dress, babe,” he tuts. “Why’s it so expensive if it’s missing half the fabric, huh?”

You shrug and answer with a smile, “Don’t ask me! Your buddy picked it out.”

“Oh yeah, I bet he did,” Danny grumbles under his breath. “I mean, you’d be the most beautiful woman in the room if you were wearing a paper bag, but this- this dress-”

“Danno,” you laugh, completing the finishing touches on your makeup before turning around to squeeze his shoulder. “Remember one of the first things you said to me when I stepped off the plane?”

“Don’t date Steve?” he offers hopefully with a grimace.

That ship has sailed and it’s not docking anytime soon, you think wryly. “No, you goofball,” you respond instead, “that I’m an adult. Everything’s going to be fine!”

“Alright, okay, but just- just promise me you’ll be smart tonight and play it safe.”

With three fingers held aloft, you answer solemnly, “I promise.”

“And don’t let Steve talk you into doing something stupid, okay? No honeypot insanity or trying to sneak into rooms or anything, you got it?”

You press your lips to your cousin’s cheek and then wipe away the smudged lipstick. “Relax, Danny. The man’s a former SEAL. What could possibly go wrong?”

You open the door of the en-suite bathroom with a small smirk tugging at your lips as Danny splutters on behind you in answer to your incendiary question.

As soon as your stiletto touches down on the carpeted floor of the luxury hotel room, you’re hit with an enthusiastic, “Woah, baby!”

“You like?” you ask with a grin, holding your arms out at your sides and giving Tani a spin to show off the dress.

Tani laughs appreciatively and lets out a low whistle. “You are smokin’ hot. I am looking… disrespectfully,” she concludes after pretending to mull over her word choice. She sneaks a glance over at her boss who’s trying and failing to draw his gaze away from the high slit that’s showing off a majority of your leg, then steps closer to you and drops her voice. “And I’m not the only one.” You shush your friend quickly and she ducks away from your playful smack with another peal of laughter.

“Wow,” Steve breathes out, practically sporting heart-eyes as he drinks in the black silk hugging every curve of your body. His piercing blue eyes blaze a trail of heat from the stilettos on your feet to the low bun your hair is swept into, and you feel your skin grow warm under his attention.

“You look pretty wow yourself,” you remark, appreciating the smart tux he’s donned, the perfectly tailored suit accenting every defined muscle on his powerful body. The blush on your face deepens when your gaze meets his, catching a glimpse of a hungry predator on the prowl.

“No, but you, Y/N,” Steve counters, his voice a low growl, “you just- I mean- wow.” He looks ready to pounce, and you’re positive he would forego the event in lieu of spending the evening in bed if there wasn’t a case riding on your performance tonight- and your cousin who you’re keeping your relationship a secret from less than a foot away.

Danny snaps in his face, directing the brunette’s attention to him. “Don’t you gawk at her like that. Paws off my baby cousin, you hear me? Better use the right head tonight, Steven, I swear.”

You dart your eyes over to your boyfriend and make an intentionally obscene gesture with your hands, indicating which head you’re thinking about. He covers up his laugh with a cough, then hurries to reassure his partner. “Danno, c’mon. I’m a perfect gentleman. Aren’t I, Y/N?”

“You’re an animal, is what you are,” your beloved cousin continues his tirade, answering for you. “Just remember I’m watching, huh? I’ve got eyes on all the cameras.”

“Alright, people, focus now,” Lou admonishes gently, handing you and Steve small communications devices that you fit snugly into your ear, out of plain sight. “Y’all remember the plan?”

“Stand there and look pretty. Don’t get shot at,” you dutifully list off your objectives for the op with an exaggerated waggling of your eyebrows while Steve tests the microphone tucked away in his bow tie. “As an unofficial member of Five-0 now, do I get a gun?”

“Are you insane?” Danny cries as Steve asks, genuinely, “Where would you even hide a gun in that dress?”

Unable to resist, you shoot him a coy smile and challenge, “Wouldn’t you like to know, Commander?”

“Woah.” Your cousin holds his hands up between the two of you and declares, “Flag on the play. Don’t- Don’t do that. No flirting. Get in, entice Lee to steal your fake diamonds, get out. Deal?”

“We’ve got it, Detective,” Steve huffs, bending down to adjust his ankle holster.

Junior approaches then with a gorgeous looking diamond necklace and announces, “Got our bait here, boss.”

“Excellent,” Steve says, taking the jewelry from him and motioning for you to turn around. He gathers the necklace in one hand, his fingers drifting across your shoulder and collarbone to grasp one end before he fits it snugly around your neck. The simple touch has your veins flooding with heat, but you tamp down your reaction, keenly aware of the multiple sets of eyes on the two of you. “Tight enough?” he murmurs, and you nod in response, not yet trusting your voice.

“Oh, and one more thing!” Lou reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box, opening it with a flourish to reveal one simple silver band, the other studded with diamonds. “Little extra bling for good measure.” Your cheeks flush at the sight, and you turn your face away from Steve while you slide the wedding ring onto your finger.

One glance at its mate on your boyfriend’s hand has you weak in the knees, and Tani whispers, “Girl, you are down bad.”

“Shut up,” you hiss, fighting the blush threatening to give you away. Steve approaches with one eyebrow raised in curiosity, and you clear your throat before taking the arm he’s offered to you. You tuck your hand into the crook of his elbow, pressing yourself close to him and sending a sharp look to your older cousin when you feel his eyes boring holes into the two of you. “Knock it off, Danny.”

He cups your face between his hands and pulls you closer to press a kiss to your forehead with an apologetic smile. “Be smart. Be safe. I love you. You watch her back, okay?” He directs the last comment to his best friend with all the gruffness of a father sending his daughter off to prom.

“I will, Danny,” Steve answers solemnly, squeezing your hand.

“Alright, buddy. But not too close, okay? Remember, I’m always watch-”

You pull the door shut behind you with a sigh. Steve guides you down the hallway towards the elevators, and your grip on his arm tightens at the prospect of what you’re about to do.

Steve immediately intuits your nerves and offers a soothing, “Hey, you’re okay.” He takes your left hand in his, his right hand coming to rest on the small of your back so you feel completely enveloped by his steadying presence. He lets his thumb drift back and forth across your skin, just above where the fabric drapes at the base of your spine, and your comms come crackling to life. “Higher.”

Steve shifts his hand up with a chuckle, and your cousin begrudgingly remarks, “Better.”

The moment relieves some of your tension, and you shake your head before pressing the call button for the elevator. The lavish gold doors open to reveal an already sizable group dressed to the nines and clearly heading to the big casino-sponsored event downstairs. Steve applies gentle pressure on your back to guide you into the elevator, and as you descend each floor and the crowd grows, you’re forced closer together in the corner. “You’re wearing a new perfume,” Steve comments, his lips right by your ear to avoid your conversation being picked up by his mic.

“How observant,” you reply. “My boyfriend bought it for me.”

“He has excellent taste,” he continues the charade, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at the compliment. With the crowd in the elevator blocking the camera’s view, Steve allows his fingers to glide down your spine until they reach their intended destination, and he sucks in a sharp breath when he realizes you’re not wearing anything under your dress. You smirk to yourself but quickly lose the upper hand, forced to swallow down a gasp when the elevator doors open into the lobby and Steve brazenly palms your ass while calmly stating, “Target acquired.”

“We see him, too,” Junior affirms. “East corner of the lobby, talking to the concierge.”

“Come on, darling,” Steve croons, settling into character- or rather dropping your usual act. “Let’s go win me some more money to spend on you.”

__________

“No entry without invitation, sir.”

You crane your neck to look up at the beefy bodyguard at the entrance to the high roller section. His biceps must be the size of your head, if not bigger, he’s got at least 6 inches on Steve, and his hulking form is completely blocking your view of the room behind him.

“Honey,” you murmur, “you brought it with you, didn’t you?”

Steve gives you an easy smile and pulls a gold-plated poker chip from the breast pocket of his tux. “Of course, my love.”

“Alright, enough with the cutesy nicknames,” Danny gripes, and you’re forced to stifle a laugh at Tani admonishing him in the background. The security guard pulls back the velvet rope to let you pass, and you duck behind the curtain to cross into the high roller area.

The room is a sea of expensive suits and sparkling cocktail dresses. A thick cloud of sweet-smelling smoke has settled in the air from the Cubans lit around the room, and the distinct symphony of ice clinking in glass tumblers joins the hum of dealers murmuring at their tables.

“Why don’t you go get us a drink and I’ll find a table to join?”

“The usual?” you purr in question, running your manicured fingers across the lapel of Steve’s suit.

“That’s perfect,” he assents, squeezing your hip before releasing you to do your own recon. Then you feel his fingers lace through yours and he murmurs, “Y/N, wait.” When you turn back to Steve, he tugs you closer by your connected hands and presses his lips to yours in a kiss that has your head buzzing before a drop of alcohol has even hit your tongue. “Lee’s watching,” he whispers against your mouth by way of explanation.

“Then let’s give him something to look at,” you respond with a glint in your eye, winding your arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. Steve’s left hand comes up to rest on the nape of your neck as the other caresses the diamond fitted snuggly against the hollow of your throat, making sure that it catches the light just so as you lay the groundwork for your operation tonight.

“He’s practically suffocating her,” Danny cries in the hotel room upstairs, hands raised while he stares at the two of you in disbelief. “What’d I say about ‘not too close’, huh? Animal.”

“Okay, lovebirds, get some air,” Lou chuckles over your comms. “Seems like our man Lee has his eye on the prize now.”

Junior leans over to Tani as he watches the two of you part ways on screen, tracking your path to the bar with a skeptical brow. “Is it just me, or was that… intense?”

“C’mon, Junes,” she laughs breezily. “That is theater at its finest.”

“One scotch on the rocks, and one vodka tonic that’s light on the tonic,” you place your order at the bar, absentmindedly letting your fingers drift over the diamonds as you peruse the top shelf.

“Easy there, cowgirl,” Danny coaches in your ear. You look around for the nearest mounted dome camera and make a face at it. “Real mature, kid.”

You feel a heated gaze on your back, and you turn to flash a coy smile at Mister Jason Lee, the suspected brains behind the smuggling operation, before collecting your drinks and making your way back to Steve.

“He’s interested,” you murmur in his ear as you bend down to place the glass between his hands on the table. “But we need to really hook him. Better start throwing some money around, hotshot.”

“Go ahead, baby,” Steve says animatedly, attracting the attention of the other players around the table. He makes a big show of closing his eyes and letting you bet for him, clearly unaffected by winning or losing a few hundred on your blind faith. As you lean over to push a stack of chips towards the pot, you hear an appreciative titter around the table and turn to find Steve with one eye very obviously peeking- but definitely not at what your hands are doing.

“Naughty boy,” you scold playfully, and he offers his palms in an act of mock deference.

“Can you blame the man?” one of the other players barks out through a raucous laugh, and you smile politely even though their leering eyes make your skin crawl. When you bend to retrieve your drink, Steve moves closer with a grin and whispers in your ear, “If one of them so much as breathes in your direction, I’ll break off every one of their fingers and feed them to ‘em, okay, mama?”

Acutely aware that Danny and the rest of the team are watching your every interaction, you suppress a shiver and murmur back, “Sir, yes, sir.”

Steve has mixed luck on his first few hands, but you’re sure to make a big show of celebrating each win with a kiss that has the older women in the room clutching their proverbial pearls and Lee hanging onto your every move. You toy with the necklace as a nervous habit each time Steve places his bet and let your fingers trail across his broad shoulders as he studies each hand, squeezing affectionately every now and then.

“I hate this,” Danny declares, a dismayed frown tugging at his lips as he watches you on the live CCTV footage. On the small screen, you drape your arms around Steve’s neck and press a kiss to his cheek before murmuring something in his ear that’s too quiet for the hidden mic to pick up but has Steve grinning like a fool. “I hate this. Why did I let him talk me into this? Putz.”

“Relax, Danny,” Lou attempts to soothe his ruffled feathers. “They’re doing great.”

“Hey, hey, look!” Tani calls to garner their attention. “They’ve lured Lee in. He’s about to make contact.”

“Good evening,” he opens politely, pulling out the chair next to Steve.

“Evening,” your boyfriend offers in kind.

“Do you mind if I join you for the next hand?”

“Not at all,” you purr. “Perhaps you can help break my husband’s current losing streak.”

“With a good luck charm like you on his arm?” Lee counters smoothly. “Impossible.”

“From your mouth to the cards’ ears,” you laugh airily. “Let me go get you another drink, my love,” you say to excuse yourself, running your hand down Steve’s arm to collect his glass. “Can I get you anything, Mister…?”

“Good girl,” Tani praises you quietly over your comms.

“Lee,” he supplies. “But please, call me Jason.” He raises the remaining amber liquid in his glass with a smile then says, “Perhaps when I finish this drink, I’ll have what your husband’s having. Clearly he’s got excellent taste.” The way his eyes wander across your body isn’t lost on you.

“Arrogant son of a bitch,” Lou scoffs to his fellow team members upstairs. “Not even using an alias.”

Steve notices Lee’s hungry gaze straying from his cards to appreciate your form against the backdrop of the expansive bar and remarks, “Beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Indeed,” he agrees, swirling the expensive liquor in his glass before taking a sip. “Women like that are hard to find. As rare as that diamond around her neck.”

“Laying it on thick there, buddy,” Danny comments over your comms, and you steal a glance over to the table. “Take the bait, Steve.”

“Only the finest for my girl.”

When you return to the table with your and Steve’s drinks in hand, he hooks his ankle around the chair beside him and tugs it close for you to sit by him. “Slick move, double-oh-five-oh,” you murmur appreciatively in his ear before nipping at his earlobe. He seems extra possessive now, his hand either resting on your thigh, or your hip, or the back of your neck, always maintaining some form of skin to skin contact while the other holds his cards, and you can’t help but wonder what transpired between the two men.

Leaning over, Steve presses his lips to the point where your pulse thrums along your throat and asks, “What should we bet, beautiful girl?”

“Hm?” Your gaze is hazy, more so drunk on Steve’s touch than alcohol, and the unbidden thought that you can’t wait for this guy to be in cuffs so you can take your man home crosses your mind. You run your manicured fingers down his cheek and answer coyly, “I want you to go all in.”

The two of you dutifully ignore Danny’s protesting in your ears at your overt innuendo as Steve pushes his stack of chips to the center of the table.

“A bold move,” Lee declares with a whistle.

“What’s a few thousand when I have a million on my arm, hm?” your boyfriend counters with a sly glance in your direction.

“Let’s make this a real game. I’m all in, too.”

The dealer flips over the river card, and Steve’s arm tenses beneath your fingertips. The other few players around the table toss their cards aside with a sigh, but Lee looks over at the two of you with a grin, presenting his hand- a flush- with a flourish. He stands to collect the pot but Steve holds up one finger.

“Not so fast, my friend,” he laughs, his confidence making your body grow warm. Steve lays his hand out on the table with a smug smile. “Full house. Aces over eights.”

You let out an excited squeal, genuinely delighted at such a triumphant win, and pull Steve toward you by the lapels of his jacket to mold your lips to his. He makes an appreciative noise low in the back of his throat and his hand comes up to cup your neck in an overtly possessive manner that has you melting into his embrace. You feel his fingers playing with the clasp resting at the nape of your neck, and then the necklace falls into your lap, the next phase of your ruse in full effect now.

You pull back with a gasp and pout at Steve, your eyes wide. “It broke!”

“Then I’ll buy you ten more,” he answers easily, shrugging off your concern. “Go put it upstairs and don’t give it a second thought, okay?” He presses his lips to yours once more and gives you an affectionate pat below the dip of your dress when you stand that has you blushing. You can practically feel Danny’s laser eyes through the screen where he’s watching you.

You make sure to wobble the tiniest bit when you move, steadying yourself on Steve’s shoulder with a laugh. “What was our room number, honey?”

He shares a knowing look with your mark, then jokes, “How many vodka tonics have you had, hm? How many fingers am I holding up?” He has his fist raised and you smack at his chest with an eye roll. “217, my love,” Steve supplies before taking your hand and kissing the wedding band adorning your ring finger.

You head upstairs to the empty room the team had rented for this very purpose and place the necklace in the carefully concealed safe in the cupboard. When you return to the table, you find Steve alone.

“Where’s our friend?”

“Turned in for the night after that big loss,” your boyfriend supplies, winking at you. “Shall we?”

He offers you his arm, and after collecting his winnings, the two of you make your way to the lobby to lie in wait. “You’re going to be insufferable about that win forever now, aren’t you?”

“You said I was bad at poker,” Steve reminds you.

“You still are,” you fire back. “Dumb luck one time does not a skilled player make.”

“Jeez, boss,” Junior’s voice comes crackling in over your comms. “Want some ice for that burn?”

“Would you just- would you shut up and focus on the room, please?”

After a few minutes of waiting with no sighting of Lee, you lean into Steve’s chest and ask the team, “Anything?”

“Girl, hop off the mic,” Lou admonishes you, and you jump back from Steve. “We can hear you when you talk normally. Damn.”

Leaning back in, this time you whisper, “Sorry, guys.”

“Hey, McGarrett?” Tani speaks calmly but you can hear an edge of tension to her voice. “At your 4 o’clock, there’s two guys in suits who’ve had an eye on your table all night. I thought they were watching for potential card counting but they seem to have taken an interest in you and Y/N.”

“Copy,” Steve says quietly, pulling you closer to his body in a protective move in case all hell breaks loose.

“Let’s just show them we’re not a threat,” you offer.

“You want to go back in?”

“I was thinking of a more… hands on approach.” As the clicking of Italian leather shoes on the polished floor grows closer to you, you spin Steve around and push him against the wall, crashing into him for a heated kiss. His strong hands caress your bare back for a moment before one stays put to hold you against him while the other deftly undoes the knot holding your bun, your hair cascading down to its full length so Steve can use it for better leverage. You can’t help but moan into his mouth as he kisses you like a man starved until you’re shaken from your stupor by yelling approaching the lobby.

“Hey! Five-0! Stop running, dumbass!”

Without opening your eyes or breaking your kiss, you stick your foot out at the opportune time, making contact with the ankle of your diamond thief’s leg so he goes sprawling. There’s a faint splash to your right, and when you pull away for a breath, you can see your necklace winking at you from the lobby fountain.

Danny catches up to the scene and yells, “Hands- hey! Hands!”

Lee raises his hands above his head with a sigh, but your cousin continues on, “You two! Yeah, let me see your hands, too!” You turn to find Danny’s gun aimed at the diamond smuggler, but his fiery eyes are trained on you while Tani and Junior wrestle the other two lackeys to the floor nearby. You exchange a look with Steve, then feel the warmth of his palms leave your bare skin as the two of you slowly raise your hands as well. Clearing your throat, you offer meekly, “We’re really into method acting?”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Danny growls, slapping zip ties on a defiant Lee and ratcheting them tight before hauling him to his feet.

“Hey, man, ease up,” he whines and Danny barks, “You shut up.” He continues lamenting his woes audibly as he leads the thief to the waiting squad car, grumbling, “Had enough of all of you. My baby cousin and my best friend. Christ. What am I gonna tell my aunt?”

Steve whistles low under his breath when Danny’s out of earshot, then mutters, “That could’ve gone better.”

“On the plus side,” you comment, “he still referred to you as his best friend.”

Tani shoots you a sympathetic smile when she passes by with the man she apprehended, but Junior wastes no time leaning in and playfully tutting, “Bus-ted.” Steve raises one eyebrow and he tacks on a hurried, “Sir.”

—————

With Lee and his crew stewing in interrogation and HPD clearing the scene, you’re left sitting on the couch in Steve’s office like kids who got sent to the principal for misbehaving in school. The three of you must look ridiculous from the rest of the team’s point of view- you clad in spare clothes from Steve’s wardrobe in his office that you’re positively swimming in, your 40-plus-year-old boyfriend in a full tux with his bow tie and top few buttons undone, hand pressed over his mouth to avoid saying something that will further incense your cousin, and said cousin still dressed in his shirt and tie pacing the floor in front of you with his hands flying to emphasize every point he makes.

“And you-” Danny pauses his pacing to point an accusatory finger at his best friend. “How old are you, huh?” The finger changes angles to point at you. “And how old is she?”

“Do you want me to actually answer the quest-”

“No, Steve, they’re rhetorical questions! I know how old you are, and I’ll tell you! Too old for my baby cousin, that’s how old, huh? What’s the matter with you?”

“Why don’t you let Y/N speak for herself, Danny? Gotta let her grow up, buddy, c’mon now.”

“Thank you!” you cry. “Can I say something?”

The blonde and brunette duo turns to look at you with the same infuriating, incredulous look before simultaneously deciding, “No.”

“Alright, y’know what?” You slap your hands against your thighs and stand with a huff. “You two-” You point back and forth between Steve and Danny before continuing, “You work out your little marital spat. Daniel, when you’re ready to talk to me like the adult I am, I’ll be with Tani. After I drink some water. Because I’m still buzzed.” With that, you attempt to walk out of your boyfriend’s office with your head held high but are thwarted by the door, pushing on it to no avail.

“It’s a pull-” Danny says quietly, and Steve jumps in at the same time, “Pull, babe, you gotta pull on the-”

“I got it,” you bark at them, tugging on the glass door with a grumble about architectural intuitiveness.

After a long conversation with Steve and a short interrogation with Lee and his associates, Danny finds you nursing a bottle of water in Tani’s office, as promised. She slips out as your cousin takes a seat next to you, pulling you into a hug that you allow yourself to melt into even though you mutter all the while under your breath about his overprotective nature.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t just tell me you were seeing Steve.”

Woah. What?

“What?” Danny laughs. “You were right. We should talk about this like adults.”

“Did I say that out loud?”

“The ‘Woah. What?’? Yeah, you did, babe, it was very much not an inside thought.”

“Excellent,” you laugh, nodding solemnly. “Well, um, thank you for that. And sorry for not coming out and just telling you.”

“Guess I made it pretty hard for you to tell me, huh? What with the two rules and-”

“Yup.”

“But everybody else knew or-”

“Tani knew, cause she’s my girl, y’know. Grace figured it out pretty quickly. Pretty sure Lou’s had a feeling since at least Thanksgiving, honestly.”

Danny sits back with a start, pulling away from your hug. “How long has this been going on?”

With a sigh, you realize it’s time to come clean. “You remember when I wanted to go on that dive with you, and you said I should take Steve since you don’t ‘do water’? Well, Steve took me to this really beautiful dive spot and we kind of made a day of it so…”

“That was like-”

“A while-”

“Like seven months ago!”

“I mean, we didn’t exactly start dating on that day- well, no, we kind of did,” you correct yourself quietly, biting your lip with a grimace, but Danny’s already halfway across the floor back to Steve’s office. Lou takes the opportunity to poke his head in to check on you and you draw out a slow, “So Lou…” He raises one eyebrow in question, and you dare to ask, “Would now be a bad time to tell Danny about Will and Grace?”

—————

Tagging you beautiful people who commented for me to finish writing this 🖤

@the-silentium @ilovewriting06 @jamie2305 @kelssssxd @cassadilasworld

[anadiasmount]

Hi! If you still take requests can you do a bf christian pulisic headcanons please? I don’t see a lot of them for him 🥺

christian as a boyfriend ❣️

would always keep a hand on you every where you go. his love language is touch, so it can be, holding ur hand in public, on ur thigh, when your sleeping a hand around ur waist, a hand on your butt when he becomes possessive bc ik he is.

he kisses you softly, a hand on you hip and the other one resting on your cheek. as much as you love his gentle and soft kisses, you can’t help but enjoy the heated ones as well.

his heated kisses where he starts kissing ur neck all the way up to ur jaw, kissing the corners of your mouth before connecting your lips together. he especially loves bitting ur bottom lip and pulling it back, watching as you blush beneath his touch, his hand slightly around your throat with the smallest pressure. “god baby look at you. so pretty for me.”

bf!christian where he takes pictures of you secretly every where you are. you could be simply washing dishes or cooking but there he is with his phone. when grocery shopping and ur picking our sweets and crisps, you driving, you dancing freely to music. when you’d ask him he would shrug it off. “took it while you weren’t looking.”

during important events, he would spoil you, sometimes hiring a makeup and hairstylist for you, buying you a new pair of heels and dress. surprising you with a pair of earring and a necklace with his initial bc ur his. “don’t take it off. everyone needs to know ur mine, and only mine.”

i just know he’d be possessive about you in every aspect. you making small convo with the man at the bakery and he’s just there looking at him with a smug. at the gym where he towers you and covers you from anyone’s view. when taking a mirror selfie he places a hand around ur waist or on your boob. “gotta remind them, that’s all.”

on a rainy day he’s extra snuggly. you’d spend your day cleaning and then lay on the couch. make cookies and light his favorite candle. as much as he loves being big spoon, he feel safe and sound in ur arms. christian’s head on your chest while you draw small shapes on his back.

he knows how anxious you can get especially when it’s a place that’s super crowded so he’d tell you to trace his tattoos, and kissing ur temple every now and then. “trace them baby. distract yourself from them. it’s just me and you... i love you prettygirl.”

he’s a super private person like you, so date nights at home are special to him. you teaching him how to cut the vegetables required, telling him to mix the food in the pan/ pot. when everything is done, he grabs ur hand and brings you into him, dancing softly in the kitchen, hearing him sing to you.

when visiting the states, he takes you on his boat, spending the whole day swimming, reading, playing chess bc he taught you, and then helping him grill (bc he’s a grilling dad at heart). you would take pictures of him in the sunset, lay together with a blanket keeping you warm, and kiss him bc you truly can’t help it. “so handsome baby. cant get enough of you…”

christian bf where he gives you his jersey to wear and expect you to show it off. it drives him insane, especially when ur hair is up and it gives him a view of you small ear tattoo and on your neck as well. when ur alone he would definitely kiss them and just be in a horny mood. “yk how much i love when ur hair is up y/n… especially with my name on ur back. ur killing me out there.”

when the two of you can’t sleep, you spend hours discussing ur futures together. the two of you sacrificing to stay together, so anywhere he goes you go. talks about having kids, owning a ranch looking home, a big dog to protect you and the kids when he isn’t home. taking more vacations, to places YOU want to go to. “anything and anywhere you want, baby. you name it and i’ll give it to you.”

bf christian where he kisses your knuckles randomly, and you blushing bc it causes you off guard.

when he sleep you just fall deep in concentration at his beautiful face. ur eyes drawing back and forth from his small scars, to his freckles which you adore. the moles, the faint wrinkles, his stubble 😵‍💫

you begging him not to shave but he still does so bc he loves seeing you all pouty and moody. “sorry baby, but i just hate it.”

getting a tattoo that’s sort of dedicated to you. and when he finally tells you he’s just laughing at ur shocked face.

i just know when he’s drunk, he’s constantly wanting attention, doing things to show off, making you laugh by his dad jokes, and just being all soft and gentle. “baby watch this… i bet you haven’t heard this one… just hold me, need to feel you against me…”

him just praising you for everything, “good girl princess… being such a good girl for me… look at you baby, doing so good for me…”

him handing you his hoodies bc of how easily you get cold. knowing he gets mad when you stick ur cold toes in his warm skin, groaning at the contact. “baby! no pls stop… it feels cold.”

christian bf where he buys you the book you add to ur wishlist and when you’d ask how he knew, he would confess that he just knows. but since he loves spoiling you, he would look through that list specifically.

CHRISTIAN WEARING JEWELRY 😵‍💫😵‍💫 a watch specifically, or rings and it makes you go insane.

bc christian purposely wearing no shirt when around you, watching how you get all shy and innocent, but you just adore his back muscles, and his abs. dragging your small hand around his soft and warm skin, knowing he will get goosebumps.

bf christian having to wake up early for training, so he leaves notes for you reminding you how much he loves you, stuff you need for the house, or that he left coffee/ breakfast for you.

bf christian always being down to watch old movies with you. but instead of watching the movies he just pays attention to your eyes growing wide at ur favorite scenes or lines, ur smiles growing wide, holding you when you hysterically cry at certain scenes.

christian bf becoming so sad and scared that he’s going to lose you one day, even crying bc he never wants to let you go. “i can’t help it baby. if you were to ever leave idk if i could cope without you. pls promise me you won’t leave me? ever? i love you babygirl. want you all to myself.”

these are all i could come up with for now :( but i want to make another one bc i enjoyed making this one!! sorry if it’s short but this is how i picture bf christian 🤭❣️

[hockey-fics]

A Love Worth Changing For ~ Nico Hischier

Summary: Your commitment to yourself to stay out of a relationship becomes harder to keep when you meet someone who just might be worth breaking your promises for.

Word count: ~8,900

Warnings: Drinking (quite a bit), implied/vaguely mentioned smut, throwing up, toxic behaviours.

A/N: I kind of hate how this turned out, to be honest. It's not super well edited because I didn't want to read through it yet another time.

You didn’t want to be in a relationship. It was a promise you made to yourself. You wouldn’t get into a relationship until you were done with school. You had high expectations for yourself in your years at university. You wanted to do well, that was a given. Staying out of a relationship would only leave you with more time to study. But you also wanted these years to explore who you were as a person, casually date, figure out what you wanted in a partner and what kind of partner you wanted to be. 

It wasn’t hard, at least not for the first few years. Until you decided to go to grad school and decided to keep your commitment to not having any romantic commitment. And then came your second hurdle, when you met Nico.  

October 2021

Standing at the kitchen counter you fill a bowl with a bag of chips that you know will go mostly untouched in favour of drinks, but it was the thought that mattered, right? Your phone vibrates on the counter and your eyes fall to your bright screen. A text from Jack. Unlocking your phone you read the message, asking if he could bring a couple friends. Sighing to yourself you reply that it was fine, though you were a little nervous about who Jack was going to be bringing to a party you were already worried might be getting too large. 

Before long your apartment is full of people, half of which you didn’t know, tagging along with the half that you did. You’re in the kitchen mixing yourself an unnecessarily strong drink of tequila and orange juice when you feel someone tap you on the shoulder. Turning around your eyes focus on Jack. 

“Hey,” you greet, pulling him into a quick, friendly hug. Jack. You met him when you both arrived in New Jersey, him to play for the Devils and you to start your undergrad degree. It was an instant connection, but not the kind your friends had speculated. You understood that he was attractive, you knew that almost everyone seemed to fall for him. But your connection with him felt more like a brother than anything more. “How was your game?”

“It was good…It would be really cool if you would like watch a game once in awhile,” Jack jokes. 

“I was busy,” you whine, taking a large sip of your drink. 

“Busy with what?”

“Preparing this place to sustain the damage of another party,” you inform him. “And pre-gaming.”

“I see how it is, rather get drunk than come see me play.”

Rolling your eyes you lean back against the counter. “Honestly, yeah,” you joke. Your eyes travel over Jack’s shoulder, to the man standing behind him, hands shoved in his pockets, glancing around uncertainly. “Hi,” you call to him, catching his attention. “I’m Y/N.”

“Hey, uh, I’m Nico,” he tells you, shuffling his way between Jack and some other guy you had yet to meet. “Is this your place?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, hearing a shattering of glass from the other side of the kitchen. “Unfortunately,” you add with a breath of laughter. “I should go deal with that, I’ll talk to you later, Nico,” you tell him, placing your hand on his arm as you slip by him in the direction of the shattering sound. 

After helping clean up the mess of broken glass and spilled beer you head back into the kitchen, needing another drink. You find Jack and Nico nearly exactly where you had left them, discussing something with an intensity that piques your interest. 

“Am I missing something?” you ask Jack, pouring yourself another drink. 

“He thinks you’re hot,” Jack states boldly. 

You’re caught off guard by how easily he offers the information, especially when you see Nico elbow him in the side, clearly not wanting him to have said that. “Oh?” you say, turning to face Nico, a playful smile on your lips. 

“I, uh,” Nico begins, eyes falling to the ground. “Yeah,” he finally mutters. 

Giggling you take a sip of your drink, stepping a little closer to him. “Well, I think you’re pretty hot as well,” you tell him, hoping it would ease some of the awkward tension that had fallen on the conversation. 

“This is gross,” Jack mutters, gulping back half of his beer in one go. 

“You’re the one who brought it up, dumbass,” you remind him, spinning to lean against the counter beside Nico. “Tell me more about yourself,” you say to Nico. 

“What do you want to know?”

Shrugging you glance down to his empty hands. “Do you not drink?”

“I offered to drive him home,” Nico tells you, nodding towards Jack. 

“Drive Jack home?” you mutter, eyebrows furrowed. “Jack never goes home after he gets drunk here.”

“Oh, I, uh, didn’t know you two were-,” Nico stammers, shaking his head as he glances over to Jack with an incredulous look. 

“That’s not what I meant,” you exclaim with wide eyes. “He sleeps on the couch.”

“Oh,” Nico chuckles. 

“So, does that mean you’re going to have a drink?”

Nico shrugs, looking over at Jack, who was already on his third beer. “I still need to drive myself home.”

“I’m sure we can find you somewhere to sleep,” you tell him. 

And find him somewhere to sleep was exactly what you did, in your bed right next to you. 

When you wake up the next morning your arm is slung over Nico’s chest, your head on his shoulder. Slowly you pull your body away from him, tugging the sheets up over your naked body as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 9:35 AM. 

“Morning,” Nico mumbles tiredly.

“Morning,” you reply, glancing down at him with a soft smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Alright,” Nico shrugs. “Tired.”

“Me too,” you laugh. “Do you want some coffee or something?”

“If you’re going to make some for yourself I’ll have some.”

Climbing out of bed you pull some clothes on, shuffling out of your room to take in the damage from the night before. The kitchen counters are littered with cans and bottles, sticky with spilled drinks. Sighing to yourself you grab a bag, beginning the long process of post-party clean up. Nico is at your side a second later, tossing cans into the bag you were holding. 

“You don’t need to clean up, it’s okay,” you assure him, not wanting him to feel obligated to help clean your apartment after a party you decided to throw. 

“I don’t mind,” Nico shrugs. “I’m sure some of it is my mess.”

His justification makes you giggle, knowing that he had been one of the only people the night before to ask you where you wanted him to put his empty cans. You finish clearing off the counter together, wiping it down before making a pot of coffee. While it was brewing you stand at the counter, Nico in front of you, his hands on your hips as he looks down at you. 

“So do you think I can get your number?” Nico asks. 

Running your hands up his arms you rest them on his shoulders, smiling playfully up at him. “Yeah, I think maybe I could give you my number.”

Leaning down Nico presses his lips to yours again, gently and slowly, tugging your hips closer to his body.

“Get a room.”

Pulling back from Nico you look across the kitchen to where Jack was now standing. “You know this is my apartment, right?” you joke, pulling your arms back from Nico. “Do you want some coffee?”

“Sure,” Jack mumbles, leaning tiredly into the counter. “Do you have that girl’s number?”

“Who?” you ask, pressing your palms into the counter, hopping up onto it. 

“You know, the one I was talking to.”

“Do you even remember her name?”

“Yeah,” Jack mutters dismissively. 

“What is it then?”

“Do you have her number or not?” Jack exclaims, rubbing his fingers over his temples. 

“Yes,” you tell him with a sigh. “I’m not giving you her number if you can’t even remember her name.”

Jack lets out a loud groan, shaking his head. “Fine, whatever,” he grumbles. 

Nico glances up at you with a look that told you he agreed with your decision. “You remember my name, right?” you joke. 

Nico chuckles, leaning up to press his lips to your again. “Of course,” he tells you. 

After the coffee is done brewing you pour a few mugs, adding some cream to your coffee. Heading into the living room you curl up on the couch, leaning into Nico when he sits down beside you. The three of you sit in the living room, talking about the night before while finishing your coffee. 

Shortly after finishing his coffee Jack decides to get an Uber home, leaving you and Nico alone again. You spend the majority of the day cuddled up with Nico on the couch, watching movie after movie as the hangover slowly begins to leave your body. 

“When are you free for me to take you on a date?” Nico asks after the end of yet another movie. 

Sitting up you pull your body away from Nico, turning to look over at him. “Nico, I do like you but I feel like I should tell you that I’m not really looking for anything serious right now.”

“Does that mean I don’t get to see you again?”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” you giggle, shaking your head. “I just wanted you to know that.”

“Okay,” Nico says with a shrug. “How about Wednesday night?”

“Wednesday night sounds good to me,” you reply, leaning over and kissing him gently. 

Wednesday night comes around quickly and your date goes incredibly well. As does the next date, and all the ones after that. It wasn’t long till you were spending almost all your spare time together. 

There was a connection you had with Nico that was undeniable. But you were holding onto your promise to yourself that you weren’t going to get into a relationship. 

December 2021

You’re finally packing clothes for your trip home, having just finished your exams a few days earlier. Going home for the holidays was always one of the highlights of your year, when you could finally relax without worrying about assignments or classes or exams. Folding a few sweaters you set them into the suitcase on your bed, a sudden knock on your door startling you. 

Heading through your apartment you hesitantly pull the door open, relaxing when you see Nico standing in front of you. “What are you doing here?” 

“I wanted to see you before you left,” Nico explains, stepping inside. “And I wanted to bring you this.”

Your eyes fall to the wrapped box in his hand. “A Christmas present?”

“Yeah,” Nico chuckles, setting it into your hands. 

“Why?” you whisper, looking up into his eyes. “You didn’t have to get me anything, we’re not-.”

“We’re not together, I know,” Nico interrupts, having heard the line from you over and over again at various times throughout the last few months. Not together, just friends with benefits...who also happened to be going on frequent dates.

Sighing you set the present down onto the table by the door, reaching over to take his hands. “Well, thank you,” you whisper, leaning up and pressing your lips to his. “But you really didn’t have to.”

“You’re welcome,” Nico says, pulling you into a hug. “When do you have to be at the airport?”

“Tomorrow morning at eight.”

“I can drive you…if you want,” Nico offers. 

Pulling back you smile up at him, fingers running down his arms. “That would be great, thank you. Do you have plans tonight?”

“No.”

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” 

A smirk forms on Nico’s lips, his hands finding their way to your hips. “Yes.”

Giggling you lean up, kissing him again. This time you don’t pull back immediately, your arms finding their way over his shoulders. His tongue brushes against yours and you push yourself closer to him, fingers curling into the fabric of his sweater. 

“Let’s go to my room,” you mumble against his lips before taking his hand and pulling him through your apartment to your bedroom. 

“Do you need to finish packing?” Nico asks, his eyes falling to the suitcase on your bed, piles of clothes laying around your room. 

“It can wait,” you assure him, setting your suitcase onto the ground. You’re on the bed a second later, letting Nico pull your clothes off. Hands grasping at each other, both knowing that you’d have to go a few weeks without getting to see each other, without getting to touch each other. 

Nico makes you finish more times than you ever had in one night, till you’re a shaky, flushed mess. Maybe it was because you would be apart from each other for awhile, maybe he was trying to leave a lasting impression, keep you from wanting to be with anyone else. Whatever the reason, you were more than okay with it. 

“I should probably finish packing,” you whisper, head laying on Nico’s shoulder, fingers grazing over his chest. 

“Do you need help or anything?” Nico offers.

“No, there’s not that much left to do,” you tell him as you pull some clothes back on. 

Nico spends the rest of the evening keeping you company while you finish packing and doing last minute preparation around your apartment. By the time you get to bed that night you know that neither of you was going to end up with an adequate amount of sleep that night. But you didn’t mind if it meant spending more time with Nico. 

June 2022

You were prepared to spend the summer away from Nico. You didn’t want to, that much you needed to admit. But you weren’t his girlfriend, he wasn’t your boyfriend. There was no reason for any variation to Nico’s normal summer plans. 

So you had said goodbye to him the night before he flew back to Switzerland to spend time with his friends and family. You managed to hold back your emotions till he left and you couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. 

You kept yourself busy, picking up extra shifts when you could to keep your mind off of missing him. You knew it wasn’t normal, to have these feelings for someone who you were refusing to be more than just friends with benefits with. 

Of course the two of you continued talking, text messages being exchanged when the time difference would allow for it. But it wasn’t until he called you one evening that you were really reminded that whatever was going on between you two was a lot more than what you were willing to say out loud. 

“Hey,” you greet as you answer the phone, sitting in your living room, watching re-runs of your favourite TV show. 

“Hi,” Nico replies, his voice was quiet but you could hear a slight slur in his words. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, not a lot, watching TV,” you tell him, sitting up straighter on the couch, eyes narrowing as you stare at the other end of the couch. “What are-,” you can’t even finish asking what he was doing before he cuts you off. 

“With who?” Nico asks and there’s something in his tone that makes you feel like it’s more of an accusation than a genuine question. 

“Nobody…why?”

“You’re watching TV by yourself on a Friday night?”

“Well it’s 6PM here,” you remind him. “But yes, I’m watching TV alone, why?”

“Right,” Nico mutters. “I miss you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” Nico replies quickly. “Yes,” he admits just as quickly, without you even needing to question him on it. “We went out for drinks, I had too many.”

“Well did you at least have fun?” you ask, holding back a laugh. 

“Yeah…I wish you were here though.”

Your silent for a little too long, wracking your brain for what to say. ‘Me too’ didn’t feel right, even if it was the truth. “You’ll be back in a couple months,” you finally whisper. 

“I don’t want to wait that long,” Nico mumbles. “I want you to come here.”

Laughing softly you roll your eyes to yourself, leaning back into the couch. 

“I’m not joking,” Nico states, clearly taking offence to your laughter. 

“I can’t,” you tell him, nervously fiddling with a loose thread on your shorts. 

“Why not? I’ll buy you a flight, you can stay with me or I can get you a hotel or whatever, it doesn't matter.”

“That’s not the problem, Nico,” you tell him, though if you were seriously considering his suggestion it probably would have been a problem.

“Then what is?”

“We-,” you begin, pausing to take a deep breath. “We’re not together…I’m not your girlfriend, Nico. I’m not going to fly halfway across the world and meet your friends and family when we’re not even together,” you explain. 

The silence that follows is so long that you begin to wonder if he was even still there. But you sit in the silence, with each second growing more and more uncomfortable.

“I love you.”

“Nico,” you whisper, eyes welling with tears. You weren’t even sure where your emotions were coming from, but they were beyond overwhelming. “You don’t…you don’t mean that. You’re drunk-.”

“I do,” Nico insists, knowing where you were about to go with your sentence. Maybe he wasn’t as drunk as you thought, but you didn’t want to truly admit that. 

“Can we talk tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Nico mumbles. 

“Get some sleep, okay?” 

“Okay,” Nico whispers. “Have a good night.”

The two of you did talk the next day. But at no point did either of you bring up the night before. Maybe he didn’t remember it. Maybe he no longer wanted to discuss it now that his mind was no longer clouded by alcohol. Either way you were pretty sure it was the best outcome for both you and him. 

October 2022

“I like this one,” you say, pointing out a small pumpkin sitting on the edge of a pallet in the pumpkin patch. 

“It’s so small,” Nico comments, chuckling as he stands next to you, staring down at the little pumpkin. 

Shrugging you lean down, picking it up. “It’s cute.”

“Like you,” Nico says with a smirk, already anticipating your response. 

Rolling your eyes you jokingly take a step away from him. “Gross.”

Reaching over Nico takes your hand, tugging you back towards him. “I know you like it.”

Shaking your head you let go of his hand, running it up his arm to wrap around his shoulders. Pushing yourself onto your tip toes you press your lips to his. “I do,” you admit, stepping back from him. “Now pick your pumpkin so we can go home and carve them.”

After Nico picks out and pays for the pumpkins you head back to your apartment, stopping on your way there to pick up dinner and a couple bottles of wine. 

“Do you want the shiraz or the zinfandel?” you call to Nico, pulling a couple glasses of wine out from the cupboard. 

Glancing over your shoulder you watch Nico set the pumpkins down on the table, a smile on his face. “You know that I don’t know the difference.”

Giggling you open the drawer in the kitchen, rifling through it for your wine opener. “I want to try the zinfandel,” you tell him, jumping as you feel his hands on your hips, tugging your back into his chest. 

“Sounds great to me,” Nico whispers, leaning down and kissing your neck gently. 

With a quiet, pleasure filled sigh you let yourself melt into him, the warmth of his body radiating into you. “Thanks for doing this with me.”

“Doing what?” Nico asks, letting you turn around in his arms to face him. 

“This whole pumpkin thing, I know it’s kind of stupid as adults,” you explain. 

Nico shakes his head, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his arms. “It’s not stupid and you don’t need to thank me, I wanted to do this,” Nico assures you. 

“I l-,” you begin, stopping yourself short as you realize what you were about to say. I love you. Swallowing heavily you pull yourself back from him, quickly turning around, fumbling with the wine opener. 

“What were you going to say?”

Shaking your head you twist the screw into the cork, fingers shaking nervously. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Nico insists, reaching over and placing his hand on your lower back, trying to get your attention again. “Just talk to me.”

“I said it doesn’t matter,” you snap, struggling to wiggle the cork out of the bottle. As the cork pops out of the top of the bottle the sudden change in force sends the bottle slipping across the counter, red wine sloshing out all over the counter as the bottle clatters onto the counter. “Fuck,” you mutter, eyes welling with tears as you reach for the bottle, quickly standing it back up. 

As you reach for the towel hanging on the handle of the oven Nico catches your hands, pulling you to face him. “Slow down,” he says gently. “What’s going on?”

The tears that had welled up in your eyes were slipping down your cheeks now, your hands stilled by Nico’s hands stopping you from wiping them away. “I love you,” you exclaim. “Is that what you want to hear?”

Nico is quiet for a few seconds before wrapping his arms around you, rubbing your back gently. “I only want to hear it if you mean it.”

You don’t answer him. You knew you should answer him. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to say it again, you could barely say it once. “I need to clean up the wine,” you whisper, wiggling out of Nico’s arms. 

“You should use the paper towel, you’ll stain that one,” Nico tells you, gesturing to the towel you had originally reached for. 

“Right,” you whisper, nodding slowly as you stare up at him. You didn’t know what you had expected out of him after that, but it sure wasn’t cleaning tips. After cleaning up the wine from the counter you excuse yourself to the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror. Wiping away the remnant of your tears you take a few deep breaths, eventually managing to calm yourself enough to venture back to the kitchen. 

When you step into the room your eyes find Nico at the table, two glasses of wine and the pumpkins in front of him. “What-?”

“You don’t want to carve them anymore?” Nico asks. 

“I-,” you begin, walking through the room to sit down at the table with him. “Yeah, I do.”

For awhile the two of you sit in relative silence, the energy in the room feeling tense. But by the time your glass of wine was empty the tension had dissipated. 

You knew you loved him. You knew you meant it when you said it. You knew it before but something in that evening only made you love him even more. He didn’t push you. He didn’t make you feel bad. He was there for you, with you, in whatever way you wanted in that moment. 

November 2022

“Jack, I don’t feel good,” you whisper, glancing around the packed night club. 

Jack turns his attention away from the group of your friends that he was in the midst of a conversation with. His eyes land on you, nodding slowly as he reaches out, placing his hand on your side to steady your swaying body. “Come on,” he mumbles, guiding you through the building and into one of the single stall bathrooms. 

You’re only in the bathroom for a second before you’re hovering over the toilet, the plethora of drinks you had consumed that night coming right back up. 

“I’m going to get you some water,” Jack tells you, turning to open the door. “Stay here, okay?”

Nodding you flush the toilet, standing up and placing your hands on the edge of the counter, a steady surface to steady your not so steady self against. You turn the lock on the door, leaning into the counter again, taking deep breath to try to keep 

Jack returns a few moments later with a glass of water which you gratefully take. After downing half the glass you feel your eyes fill with tears, drunk mind racing with emotions. “Does he hate me?” you mutter, looking over at Jack. 

“What?” Jack asks, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Nico,” you whisper. “Does he hate me? He asked me to take things further again yesterday and I said no.”

“I don’t know, I haven’t talked to him in a few days,” Jack tells you. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Refusing to be his girlfriend and now you’re crying about him.”

Your eyes fall to the ground, trying to find some sort of valid explanation for him. “I don’t want to be in a relationship right now,” you finally whisper. 

“Why? You’re obviously into him,” Jack retorts quickly. 

“Because, I’m supposed to figure out who I am in university, Jack. I’m supposed to have crazy, fun experiences with new people and I’m not supposed to find the person I’m going to be with for the rest of my life right now and-.”

“He’s not asking you to marry him,” Jack interrupts. “Why are you worried about spending the rest of your life with him right now?”

“Because I don’t want to get my heart broken, I don’t want to get hurt,” you mutter. 

“You’re crying about him in a bathroom,” Jack exclaims, shaking his head. “You’re already hurt.”

“No,” you whisper, sniffling softly, tears rolling down your cheeks again. You didn’t want to admit Jack was right, you didn’t want to admit that everything you had done in the last year to keep Nico at a distance had been for nothing. “I want to go home.”

“You can come back to my place,” Jack offers with a sigh, clearly not wanting his night to be over but also not about to leave you alone. 

“I’ll just get an Uber,” you tell him, pulling your phone from your pocket. 

“I’m not letting you Uber home alone right now.”

You knew it was coming from a place of concern, but you really didn’t want to be the one to wreck his plans for the night. Whatever those plans were. “Fine,” you mutter. “But I don’t want to force you to go home.”

“Well all your friends are here and they’re also drunk so what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know,” you whine, tipping your head back to look at the ceiling. The tiles are spinning in your mind and your head feels heavy, but you manage to lift it again before the spinning brings on another round of nausea. Your eyes land on Jack, watching him typing something quickly into his phone. You manage to restrain your drunken nosiness from asking who he was talking to, staying silent. 

“Nico is going to pick you up,” Jack tells you a few minutes later, making your heart race. 

“No,” you exclaim, shaking your head. You couldn’t let him see you like this. 

“He’s already on his way,” Jack tells you definitively. “Come on, I’ll walk outside with you and wait for him.”

“Jack,” you whine, following him out of the bathroom anyway. “This is mean.”

“I offered to take you home,” Jack snaps, clearly annoyed with you for making any attempts to help much harder than necessary. 

Sighing you follow him outside, the cold night air feeling refreshing to your nightclub-induced clammy skin. “I’m scared, Jack,” you whisper, standing next to him on the sidewalk. 

“Why?”

“He hates me-.”

“He’s picking you up drunk at two in the morning, he doesn’t hate you.”

“Yes, he does,” you repeat. “He hates me but he’s nice a good guy and he’s just coming to pick me up because he’s not a shitty person and I-.”

“Shut up,” Jack groans. “Yeah, he’s a nice guy or whatever but he’s not nice enough to get out of bed and come here to take care of you if he doesn’t still like you.”

Just as Jack finished his sentence a familiar car pulls up along the side of the road. Quickly Jack yanks the passenger’s side door open. “Good luck,” he tells Nico as he guides you into the car. 

“You okay?” Nico asks as you pull your seatbelt on, refusing to look across the car at him. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you mutter, eyes focusing out the side window, small raindrops beginning to splatter onto the clear glass. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Of course I did,” Nico states and you can tell he’s glancing at you when he says it. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to either though,” he clarifies. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper, finally glancing over at him. "I'm sorry for making this so hard, I'm sorry I can't be who you want me to be right now, I like you so much Nico but I just can't be with you right now."

"It's okay," Nico tells you, his own voice greatly contrasting your unsteady, high-pitched tone. "I'm not going to push anything, if you want me around I'll be here. I'll wait for you."

January 2023

New Year's Eve. It was the one holiday that you seemed to never have a single tradition for. You had spent your New Year's Eve in a new location every year, from your bedroom to house parties to bars. This year though it was going to spent at a nightclub. A nightclub with as many friends as you could possibly wrangle into spending their night’s in a sweaty, loud, sticky nightclub downtown…including Nico.

You had gotten to Jack’s place just after eight, having spent the better part of three hours getting ready with your best friends at your apartment. You had to admit though, the time paid off, your outfit giving you an almost dangerous amount of confidence. 

“Where’s Nico?” you ask Jack, watching him pour another round of shots. 

You watch Jack’s lips curl into a teasing smirk, glancing at you for a second before returning to his bartending role. “Very interested in him for not being with him.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, taking a sip of your vodka soda. “I’m just curious, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Here,” Jack states, handing you a shot glass, filled to the brim with tequila. As you reach to take the shot glass he pulls it away, holding it out of your reach. “You have to promise that you’re not going to end up puking and crying about him tonight.”

“Fuck off,” you mutter, reaching over and taking the shot glass from his hand, quickly dumping it into your mouth. You force the liquid down your throat with a wince, shuddering as you set the empty glass down onto the counter. 

“If I hear you say you’re not feeling good I will be finding someone else to take care of you.”

“I’ve never been that drunk in my life before, Jack. Stop acting like it happens frequently,” you whine. 

Jack chuckles, opening another beer. “You’re still that embarrassed about it, hey?”

“It was embarrassing,” you exclaim, glancing around the apartment, your interest piquing as your eyes sweep by the front door. Looking back you see Nico, struggling to yank his jacket off while holding a case of beer in one hand. “I’ll be right back,” you mutter to Jack, hurrying over to the door. “Need some help?” you ask Nico, taking the beer from his hand to let him take his jacket off. 

“Thanks,” he says with a chuckle, balancing his coat on a stack over a hook on the wall. He turns his attention back you, his eyes gazing up and down your body. “You look hot,” he comments. 

You can’t help but giggle at his comment, your cheeks reddening. “Well it took me long enough to get ready so I’m glad I got something out of it.” Turning around you head towards the kitchen with Nico’s beer. 

Nico has his hands on your hips, stopping you in your tracks a moment later. “You can get anything you want looking like that,” Nico whispers. 

Your breath catches in your throat, your back hitting Nico’s chest as you come to a stop. “It’s nine, Nico. We’ve got at least three more hours to go.”

“And?” Nico mumbles. 

Giggling you lean back into him, tipping your head back to look up at him. “And if you keep this up I won’t be able to make it till midnight without trying to get you back to my place.”

Nico chuckles, his hand slipping around to your ass as he moves to walk towards the kitchen. Your cheeks warm even further at the contact, watching him take the beer from you, unloading a few of them into Jack’s fridge. 

By the time you get to the club that night you’re a little more than tipsy, knowing you wouldn’t need to spend much money at the bar that night. The night had started with a lot of flirting between you and Nico, but once you arrived at the club you found yourself swept away with a few of your other friends. 

Before you knew it you were standing in a group with just a couple of your friends and quite a few men you had never met before. There’s a man standing next to you who had his hands on you more than was accidental. A hand on your back as he squeezed by to order another drink, fingers brushing against yours, body pressing to yours while he leaned in to try to hear something someone said. You didn’t dislike it, you knew he was flirting with you and part of you was enthralled by that, by the attention. But every time it happened your mind would find its way back to Nico. 

“Let’s get you another drink,” Peter, who you had just discovered the name of, says. 

Your eyes glance down at your empty drink before letting him guide you to the bar with his hand on your waist. You order your drink and Peter pulls out his wallet. The two of you make small talk while you sip on your new drink. He was attractive, you had to admit that. But that’s about where it stopped. There was nothing about his personality that enticed you, but selfishly you did like the attention. 

But you’re not able to see where things would go with him because the next thing you know Nico is pushing his way through the crowd to be at your side. 

“What are you doing?” Nico asks you, not even acknowledging the man you were talking to. 

Shrugging your shoulders your eyes flick back and forth from Nico to Peter and back to Nico. “What do you mean?”

Nico shakes his head with a cold chuckle, reaching down and taking your hand. “Come on, you’re done here.”

“Nico,” you whisper, eyes drilling into his. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t,” Nico mutters, shaking his head. “You know what I’m talking about, let’s go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you state definitively, staring into his eyes as you match his intensity. 

“What’s going on?” Peter interjects, catching both you and Nico’s attention. 

“I think you should go,” Nico tells him before you have a chance to get a single word in. 

“Why?” Peter asks with a cold chuckle. “She clearly isn’t interested in you, why would I go anywhere?”

You don’t even process what’s happening till Peter is stumbling backwards, hand on his jaw where Nico’s fist had just met with it. Thankfully a bouncer pulls Peter back before he can retaliate, Nico frozen in place, just as stunned by his actions as everyone else in that club. 

You weren’t happy with Nico’s actions but you turn towards him anyway, grasping his arms a second later. “What the hell?” you exclaim, frantic eyes searching his for any type of answer. 

Before Nico has a chance to say anything a bouncer is at his side, nodding towards the door. “You gotta go.”

“I-,” Nico begins before turning in the direction of the door, knowing he wasn’t going to argue his way out of this one. 

You watch the bouncer guiding Nico towards the door, realizing you weren’t also being kicked out. You didn’t need to go. You could stay, you could keep drinking, celebrate New Years in this club. But the further and further Nico got with the bouncer the more uneasy you felt. So you let your legs carry you through the club and out the front door, into the freezing night air with Nico. 

“Nico,” you call as you watch him walking away from the club, clearly with no real destination in mind. 

“What?” Nico snaps, turning back around to look at you. “What do you want?”

“You’re really mad at me right now?” you yell, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to keep yourself warm. 

“Yes,” Nico exclaims. “Are you serious right now?”

“I’m not your girlfriend, Nico.”

Nico shakes his head, laughing coldly. “I guess not,” Nico yells. “But whatever, it doesn’t matter anymore, I’m fucking done with this, I’m done with you.”

“Nico,” you mumble, walking closer to him, hoping something, anything you would say could convince him that it wasn’t that serious. “Please don’t say that.”

“No, I’m over this, I’m not going to keep fighting for you if you don’t give a fuck about me.”

“I do care about you,” you yell back at him, your voice hoarse and shaky. “I care about you so much, Nico, you don’t even know.”

“If you cared about me you wouldn’t be trying to fuck other guys right in front of me.”

“I-,” you begin, realizing you didn’t even know what your justification was about to be. Because, to be honest, you didn’t have one. “I’m sorry,” you finally croak. 

“Just go back inside, I don’t fucking care,” Nico mutters, slurred words finally giving away his drunken state. 

“I do,” you yell, walking closer to him. “I don’t want to go back inside, Nico. I don’t want to leave you…I do care.”

“Why?” Nico snaps, staring down at you intently now that you were standing just a foot in front of him. 

“Because I love you,” you exclaim, the words leaving your mouth before you even had a chance to process them. 

“Then don’t try to fuck other people,” Nico mutters, sliding his jacket off his arms now that you were close enough for him to realize you were shaking, gently placing it over your shoulders. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper again, tears welling in your eyes. You slip your arms into his jacket, tugging it tight around your body. “Please, I can’t lose you. I don’t want to be with him, I don’t want to be with anyone else. I want you.”

Nico steps back, taking a deep breath as he looks around the night sky for a minute. “Okay,” Nico mutters and you’re sure it’s more to himself than to you. “Do you want to go back in?”

“I’m not leaving you,” you tell him. 

“It’s New Years, go be with your friends, I’m the one who fucked up.”

“No, you didn’t,” you whisper. “I mean, I don’t think you should have punched him but I’m not letting you take all the blame for this...Do you want to come over to my place?”

“Okay…sure, yeah, if that’s what you want to do,” Nico says, reaching over and pulling you into him, rubbing his hand along your arm, trying to warm you up. 

So the two of you head back to your apartment, spending the rest of New Year's Eve together, just the two of you and a bottle of champagne.

It wasn’t the New Year's Eve you were expecting. It wasn’t necessarily the New Year's Eve you wanted, but maybe it was the New Year's Eve you needed. The wake up call that you had gone far beyond just friends with benefits. Even if you weren’t ready to accept it. 

February 2023

Things had changed after the New Year's Eve incident. Neither of you had verbally talked about what had changed but you both knew it had. It was the second time you told him you loved him. The second time neither of you acknowledged it after it happened. I don’t want to be with anyone else. Your words had continued echoing in your mind and you knew you should deal with those thoughts, those feelings. 

But you didn’t.

Maybe you really wanted to keep your commitment to yourself, to not get into a relationship till you had graduated. Maybe you were scared to take that step. Maybe you were embarrassed to ask for that after pushing it away for so long. 

So you fell back into the routine you had before. Frequent dates and spending most of your time together in between. It was different, yet the routines remained the same for months.

June 2023

“I need a date to the awards ceremony,” Nico says, referring to the NHL Awards that were approaching quickly.

“I don’t think you need a date,” you reply, looking up over the top of your phone to the other end of the couch, where Nico was sitting. 

“Okay…I want a date for the awards,” Nico tells you, reframing his statement.

“Okay,” you mutter, accepting his rephrased sentence. 

“Are you going to come with me?”

“No,” you mumble, sitting up straighter on the couch. 

“Why not?”

Rolling your eyes you lock your phone, tossing it down next to you. “Nico, you know why. I’m not your girlfriend.”

“This is a big deal for me,” Nico exclaims, clearly already knowing you were going to put up a fight about this. “Just come with me as a friend then.”

“You don’t bring just a friend to that kind of event. I know that much,” you tell him. 

Suddenly Nico is on his feet, pacing the length of your living room, making it halfway back before throwing his hands up in defeat. “You can’t just be there for me, support me, even once. I’m getting tired of this…whatever this is.”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, his words hitting you hard. “I do, I do want to support, I promise.”

Just three days later you’re standing in a fitting room, pulling a dress onto your body. Stepping out of the room your eyes land on Nico, waiting for his reaction to this one. It was the fifth dress you had tried on, Nico telling you he liked all of them. 

“I like it,” Nico says, his eyes roaming over your body. 

Groaning loudly you turn towards the mirror, adjusting the dress slightly. “Why’d you even insist on coming if you’re not going to give me any input?”

“Because I’m buying it for you,” Nico tells you in a matter-of-fact tone. 

“No, you’re not,” you tell him, though it would be pretty helpful for your grad student budget. 

“I’m not arguing with you about this.”

“Me neither,” you reply, stepping back into the fitting room to try on another one. 

Eventually you narrow it down enough that Nico finally gives his input, once he was simply picking between two dresses. At the till you try to pull your wallet out, Nico’s hand landing on your hands. 

“I’m not letting you pay for it, Nico,” you whisper, trying to keep your disagreement out of ear shot of the sales attendant. 

“Yes, you are. It doesn’t have to mean whatever you’re thinking, just let me buy the fucking dress,” Nico mutters, his voice carrying an unusually stern tone. 

“Okay,” you whisper, eyes widening, stepping back as you watch Nico pull his wallet out and pay for the dress. He carries the bag for you, silence falling between you until you were outside, away from the sanctity of the boutique. 

“What’s your problem?” you snap, standing next to Nico’s car, watching him set the bag down into the backseat. 

“What?” Nico asks with a loud sigh, slamming the car door a little harder than necessary. 

“I don’t know...you’re mad at me for not dating you and-.”

“I’m not mad at you for not dating me,” Nico interrupts. “I’m mad that we are dating and you refuse to admit it.”

“We’re not together,” you state definitively, arms crossed over your chest. 

“Okay, whatever, then this is done,” Nico mutters, shaking his head. “Get in the car.”

“I want to go home,” you tell him, yanking the car door open. 

“Well that’s where I’m taking you,” Nico grumbles, sliding into the driver’s seat of the car. 

The drive back to your apartment is silent, your eyes focused directly ahead of you, the drive seeming longer than you had remembered. Nico pulls into the parking lot, turning the car around so that your side of the car was facing the door, something he had done since the first time he dropped you off at home. Opening the door you slip out, glancing back to find Nico handing you the bag with the dress. 

“I don’t want the fucking dress, Nico. I’m not doing this anymore.”

He nods slowly, your words sinking in. “Well what am I going to do with it? Just take it.”

Sighing you reach over, taking the bag from him, knowing it would be easier than continuing to argue about it. “Alright, well,” you mutter, glancing around. “Goodbye…I guess.”

“Bye,” Nico replies, voice strained, eyes barely meeting yours. 

You shut the door slowly, walk into your apartment even slower, knowing that if you really did leave it like that it was a big statement. A big statement you weren’t even sure you wanted to be making. But you keep going, till you’re up in your apartment and your eyes are filling with tears. 

Your best friend Liv is at your apartment shortly after you tell her what had happened, with a couple bottles of wine and take-out.

“I just don’t get it,” Liv says, sitting on the couch with half a glass of red wine in her hand. “You like him, you two are always together, going on dates. Why won’t you just let him in? Make it official?”

Shrugging you swirl the wine around in your glass, swallowing heavily as another round of tears form in your eyes. “Because I said I wouldn’t, Liv. I promised myself, I would experience things, I would figure myself out before getting into a real relationship.”

“But you’re not doing that,” Liv points out. “You keep saying you don’t want anything serious but you’ve been, what, casually dating this guy for like a year and a half? When’s the last time you went on a date with anyone else?”

Shrugging you try to think back, try to remember the last time you actually even seriously entertained the idea of a date with another man. “I don’t know, last year, I guess.”

“When’s the last time you hooked up with anyone other than him?”

“Liv, I don’t know. It’s been awhile, I get it,” you exclaim, sighing loudly. “I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” Liv asks, voice gentle and reassuring despite your outburst. “You’ve always been scared of getting hurt. But if you don’t let yourself be with someone you’re never going to even have the opportunity for what else could happen.”

“No,” you whisper, wiping away a few tears that had pooled under your eyes. “I’m scared that I pushed him away…for good this time.”

Liv reaches over, placing her hand on your leg. “You’ve been doing this for a year, I don’t think this has to be the last time…if you’re actually going to let him in this time. But if you’re not, if you’re still not ready, maybe it should be for good.”

Liv stays with you for most of the night, watching reality tv and finishing off the wine she had brought over. You didn’t talk much more about Nico, wanting to get your mind off of the situation for awhile, to let yourself calm down. 

You contemplated reaching out to Nico. From hours after to days after. But you didn’t know what to say and he wasn’t saying anything either. So you didn’t say anything at all, till you were only a couple days away from the NHL Awards and all you could think about was Nico telling you that he wanted you to be there to support him. 

Pulling your phone out you scroll through your contacts, finding the one you were looking for and pressing the call button. 

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey, um, if I book a flight to Nashville and a hotel and everything can you bring me with you on Monday?” 

“To the awards?”

“Yeah.”

“No. What the hell? You’ve been fucking with Nico’s feelings for so long and now you’re going to try to come with me instead?”

“No, that’s not what I mean, Jack,” you mumble, tears welling in your eyes. “I just…I want to be there for him, I can’t miss it, Jack, I can’t. I fucked up, I know I’ve been a shitty person to him and I don’t know how I can change that but I need to see him and I need him to know that I care and I don’t want to lose him and-.”

“Okay,” Jack exclaims, cutting you off. “Holy shit, yeah, okay, you can come. Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, pulling your knees to your chest, staring across the living room at the dark TV, your reflection looking back at you. “I love him, Jack.”

“But you don’t want to be with him.”

“I do.”

“You need to tell him that then. I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Thank you, Jack.”

“Of course. But you really need to figure this out with him because I can’t handle being in the middle of you two fighting.”

“I will.”

You woke up extra early the morning of the awards. Not on purpose, you had an entire day to get ready. But you were too anxious to stay asleep. So you pulled yourself out of bed and tried to spread out the process of getting ready through the day so you wouldn’t have much time to ruminate on everything alone in the quiet hotel room. 

Finally you’re heading down the elevator after what felt like the longest day of your life to meet Jack out front on the way to the arena. 

“You look good,” Jack tells you as you pull your seatbelt on, adjusting your dress. 

“Thanks,” you whisper, your mind so preoccupied with Nico that you were barely registering anything that was happening around you. 

When you get to the venue your stomach is churning with so much anxiety you begin to worry you might throw up. “I don’t know what to say to him,” you admit as you walk next to him. 

“Sorry might be a good start.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, more to yourself than to anyone else. You force a few deep breaths into your lungs as you follow Jack, till you’re standing just a few feet away from Nico. When your eyes meet you can visibly see the confusion flash across his face, eyes darting between you and Jack. 

“What?” Nico begins, Jack stepping back as he says it. 

“I’m not getting in the middle of this,” Jack says, hurrying off in the other direction to leave you alone with Nico. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, voice shaky. “I’m so sorry, Nico. I shouldn’t have pushed you away so much. And maybe this is too little, too late, I don’t know, but I want to be here for you. You can tell me to go, I understand if you don’t want me here.”

“Of course I want you here,” Nico tells you, reaching over and taking your hand, tugging you closer. “I just can’t keep doing this. I want to be with you, I want this to be real and if not-.”

“I want that too,” you whisper, shaky fingers clutching at Nico’s arms. 

“What? Why? Why now?” Nico asks, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Because I realized how stupid I’ve been. I was scared, I was holding onto this idea that I needed to figure something out before I let myself get into a relationship,” you tell him, trying so hard to come up with words that would explain everything, make everything okay. “I was waiting for something, some revelation or something, but I don’t even know what I was waiting for because I don’t want anything else, I just want to be with you and I’m sorry that I didn’t just accept that earlier. I shouldn’t have made you wait like this.”

Nico nods as he listens to your rambling explanation, watching your eyes welling with tears. When you finish talking Nico pulls you into him, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “I would have waited as long as you needed.”

Sniffling you pull back, wiping away the tears from your eyes before they could roll onto your cheeks. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be crying like this,” you say with nervous laugh. “I, um, I don’t know what to do now…we’re here to celebrate you, how…where…what happens now?”

Nico chuckles quietly, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours gently. “Just stay with me, you don’t need to worry about anything else.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, taking Nico’s hand in yours, moving to his side. “I love you,” you whisper. 

Nico glances down at you, his lips curling into a smile. “I love you too.”

[chaoticarson16]

May we please have Loui, NY, and TX hc’s? 👁️👁️

*not forcing*

Of course you may!

Louisiana:

• He’s a literal sweetheart that gets along with everyone. Like, he knows everyone and everyone knows him

• He will drop whatever he’s doing to help one of his friends. Doing the dishes? Not anymore. Eating lunch? He says he ate enough. Self care? You need it more than I do! Therapy? He’ll be your therapist.

• He very rarely cusses. Every now and then he’ll cuss in French but he rarely cusses in English. When he does this everyone goes quiet cause he’s either in a lot of pain, very upset, or MAJORLY pissed.

• Him and California are the only two not allowed to be ANYWHERE near guns. (With the Wild West and the Black Panther group, please don’t quote me on this, California would be able to shoot guns frighteningly well. I also believe Loui would be extremely good at shooting guns, like, completely incapacitate someone but still keep them alive. Everyone believes they’d be way too dangerous with a gun. Even Florida won’t give them a gun….sometimes)

• Him and Florida have a pet alligator that they’ve named Kitten. She’s around 8 feet and is the biggest softie ever. When the others hear they’ve got a pet named Kitten, they assume they have a cat and weren’t very creative with the name. They are wrong. Florida and Loui laugh every time they agree to meet Kitten and she’s a big ass gator. Govs the only one who got used to her (surprisingly) cause when they got married (pushing my Flouigov agenda) Kitten would constantly follow Florida or Loui and she eventually started following Gov too since he was there more then the other states and she now sees his as a family member.

New York:

• He LOVES to draw. Like, this man always has a sketchbook on him. Any chance he gets he buys a new one (literally me tho) but they don’t last cause he’s always drawing.

• He’s got hella tattoos. Him and California have the most tattoos out of anyone else in the statehouse. Most of the states believed New York had the most tattoos until there was a pool party at the statehouse and they saw Californias.

• Him and Colorado are surprisingly friends. They’re hiking buddies and like to go exploring together. New York likes hiking with Colorado cause he’s allowed to climb pretty much everything. Colorado likes hiking with York cause he’s one of the only people who can keep up with him.

• Him and Jersey like to act like they hate each other, but they’re actually twins and they’re really close. They created different signals (hand placement, facial expressions, pencil/pen placement) to have silent conversations in the middle of a meeting. They’ve started randomly laughing while Gov or one of the other states were talking and had to leave the room to stop. Everyone was very confused.

• Begged Illinois to go see the Chicago rat hole and when Illinois finally agreed he was super excited. He took so many pictures and even left some money there. He cried when he found out someone filled it.

• Him and California have a black oriental cat that they’ve named Gremlin. He’s so stupid and they love him very much.

Texas:

• Him, Jersey, and North Dakota all garden and they love to go to one of their houses and plant new plants that they bought while shopping alone cause they have no self control- (Jersey is the garden state and North Dakota is the peace garden state)

• He has a red dun quarter horse with white blaze and sock markings (yes I looked it up cause I had a very specific image in my head) named Janie. He likes go horseback riding a lot since it calms it down.

• He’s also got an Australian shepherd named Buck (I know so original) but the funny part is she’s a girl. She learned to nip at people’s feet when they call her a he and Texas finds that hilarious. When he says she has an attitude, he means it. She’s also like an emotional support dog for him which honestly he needs. This boy got hella trauma-

• This man is deathly terrified of big crowds. If he can’t easily get to an exit he starts to panic. And when I say panic I mean p a n i c. He started crying and having a panic attack after a meeting cause he was too tired to teleport and everyone kinda crowded around the door to talk. It was made even worse when they started crowding him to make sure he was ok. Buck ended up not leaving his side for a while after that, even going to meetings. If she saw people crowding the door she’d go up to them and bark till they left.

Sorry this is a bit late! My teacher threw a random test at us and I still haven’t finish it💀

[svechnikovvv]

roadies

pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader

warnings: panic attack, don’t think there’s any profanity

summary: jack is on the other side of the u.s for his roadies and something happens with him.

a/n: my writing schedule has been messed up 🫠 back at school and apush is kicking my ass. so apologies for the lack of content.

masterlist: here

jack was currently on the other side of the united states playing the kraken.

i make my way to the bar downtown to watch the game since they always play every devil’s game.

“y/n! there she is!” i smile and take a seat at the bar.

“tito! how’ve you been?”

“i’ve been hangin’ in there.” he nods up at the tv. “you here for the game?”

“you know me so well.” he chuckles and shakes his head.

“you watch every game of his, huh?” i nod proudly

“what’ll it be tonight? shirley temple?”

“i drove here. just pour me a water?” he nods and pours me a glass of water, sliding it down to me. i take it and take a big sip of it. i look up at the tv and see there’s only five more minutes until puck drop.

“you think benny will make me one of his famous burgers?”

“he’s been asking when you’d come back again. told ‘em there’s a game soon so you’ll be back quick. but let me go ask.” he then walks off into the back and i sit there, sipping on my water. i look around and see some familiar faces, some new ones.

soon, the puck drops and i see jack front and center. i get excited at seeing him and they win face-off. tito walks by and looks at the tv. he points up at it.

“there’s jackson. tell him he needs a haircut.” he then walks back off and i laugh to myself at his comment. i loved jack’s long hair, but it did need a bit of a trim.

a plate is then placed in front of me and i see it’s my burger.

“wondering when you’d come back, kid.”

“now benny, you make the best burgers in jersey. i would never forget about you.” he rolls his eyes and slings his towel over his shoulder.

“they score yet?” i shake my head

“he’s gonna score the first goal. kid’s got magic”

“whatever you say, benny.” he shrugs and walks back into the back. i take a big bite of my burger and the taste is amazing. he always manages to make them taste better every time. i didn’t understand it. i look up at the tv as i eat my burger and sip on my water, and jack then scores a goal. benny was right.

everyone in the bar, including me, starts cheering. everyone continues to watch the game and then nico scores the next goal.

it was down to the last few seconds, and they were tied.

“cmon j, score” i whisper and as soon as the devil’s get the puck down to seattle’s side, the buzzer goes off. end of regulation.

“oh come on! hughes was about to fuckin’ score!” i hear someone yell at the tv and it makes me laugh. i anxiously watch the tv as OT is now underway. everyone else in the bar is tense as well and watching the game.

nico wins face-off and everyone cheers. the kraken and devil’s continue to go back and forth and soon, OT ends and it’s time for shoot-out. the whole bar goes quiet as we watch.

first up is nico and some other guy and they both make their shots. next is jack and a younger guy and the other guy makes his.

“you got this jack,” i whisper to myself and watch the tv closely. he misses his shot, resulting in the kraken winning.

“damnit!” someone yells and i deflate slightly. they played a good game nonetheless, but i know jack’s going to take this to heart. i say goodbye to tito and benny and make my way back home.

an hour or so later, i get a call from jack. i answer it and i can hear sporadic breathing on the other side.

“i need you.”

“what’s wrong?”

“so much.”

“hey, take a deep breath in.” i hear him inhale on the other end.

“now breathe out.” he exhaled and does that two more times before he tells me what’s all happening.

“i feel so awful. i lost us the game. i disappointed everyone. and i found out i sprained my wrist in the third.”

“jack, baby, you didn’t disappoint anyone. you were playing on a sprained wrist. yeah, it isn’t the brightest idea, but it also affects your performance. it’s not your fault, my love. you went out there and played your best and you did a damn amazing job. tito, benny and i were cheering for you the whole game.”

“really?” he quietly asks

“absolutely. couldn’t be more proud. did you get something for your wrist?”

“yeah. nico took me to the hospital and i got it checked out. can’t play for a while”

“i’m sorry babe. i know how much hockey means to you.”

“that means i get more time with you.”

“it sure does. i’ll take care of you until it heals again if i have to.” i hear him slightly sniffle and i assume he’s stopped crying.

“if it makes you feel any better, tito said you need a haircut.” i hear him quietly laugh and i smile. anything is better than him crying. i hate when he cried, it absolutely broke my heart.

“i do need a trim. anyways, i’m going to go to sleep. im exhausted. i love you though. so much. thank you for always being my listening ear.”

“you don’t have to thank me for anything, j. but go get you some rest, you deserve it. i love you” he then hangs up and i go to sleep with him on my mind. thankfully, he only had two more games over there and he was back to new jersey. obviously he wouldn’t be able to play, but showing up was better than nothing.

that’s the one downside about roadies. something happens and you’re not there to help. hopefully these next few days go by quick.

the days pass by and i get a text from nico saying they’re back in town. i grab my keys and rush over to the arena to pick up jack. i end up getting there before the bus does. only ten minutes, but still earlier than it.

when i see the bus pull up, i head inside and walk to where i need to go. i then see all the guys coming out and some of them give me a wave. jack then rounds the corner with nico and nico nudges him on the shoulder and nods in my direction. jack looks and when he sees me, he drops all of his stuff and runs over to me. i pull him into a hug, being cautious of his wrist. his arms wrapped around me as best as they could and mine go around his neck.

“hi j. i missed you”

“god, you have no idea how much i’ve missed you. i’ve been so miserable.” i pull apart from him and cup his face with my hands.

“i’m here now, yeah?” he nods and i place a kiss on his nose, causing him to scrunch it up.

“come on, let’s get home. we’re long overdue for some cuddles.” he nods and grabs his stuff, taking my hand with his non-injured one and we walk to my car.

tags: @goldenbrokenheart @alhanna05 @woodruff-edwards @i-padfootblack-things @fanboysfangirl @hughesx3 @austinbutlerscaresme @theywantedplayer

a/n: guess who lost her airpods at the park 🫠

[eden031]

Golden girl

Steve Rogers x reader

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, fluff, reader had superpowers, canon divergence, post hulk snap

After the snap some people came back different. Some of them suddenly able to do things they could have never dreamed of before, but sometimes things are not as glorious as they seem and not everyone wants to be a Hero

She had always been the golden girl. In the eyes of her family she was the perfect child, the perfect daughter: dutiful, kind to her older relatives, focused on her studies, good marks, no strange partners or drug abuse. Not like her older brother who had always been the problem child, rebelling against everything her parents had wanted from him. Never doing as he had been told and even refusing to go to college, even if he really wanted to. He had told her as much, he had wanted to go, but because of their parents he refused to go.

To her friends she appeared to be the perfect friend: always looking out, supportive, never cancels plans too late, always there when you need a shoulder to cry on or someone to celebrate with.

It had been hard for her after the snap, after disappearing and coming back again, adjusting to a different life, missing four years was nothing small. Most of her friends had moved on, lived their own lives now. Even most of the people that had disappeared seemed to have it easier than her.

With a sigh she sat down on the park bench. Most people had come back normal. They had not been changed, but what had been normal about this whole thing, about disappearing and coming back. After she had come back it was almost as if she could feel the electricity in everything, hear the buzz of the electrical lines in the city. When it had first happened she really didn‘t know what had happened, when she had felt like she had fainted and woke up in her apartment, a burnt smell filling her nose. Her room was filled with traces of electrical burns. Both of her parents had come in only a few moments later, shouting, trying to understand what had just happened.

Now she was not what they had wanted, the perfect girl, she was different now, broken in her own parent‘s eyes, even if now more options had come in her direction than ever before.

„Aren‘t you cold?“ the smooth voice of the man with the blonde hair came from beside her. His eyes shone in the light of the afternoon, in one hand he held the jersey jacket he had been wearing only a few moments before.

„I am fine. Thank you.“ she smiled at him, redirecting her gaze back at the lake in front of her. It had all come so differently than she had hoped for when she was a little girl. A soft humm drew her attention, she looked up, seeing the red and golden suit flash over them.

“Do you want to talk about it?“ he asked, she could feel his warmth radiating from beside her. A soft hum left her lips as the tears began to cloud her vision.

„I just wanted a normal life.“ she whispered, her voice cracking as she spoke. A single tear ran down her cheek as she looked over at the first Avenger. „I just wanted to live a normal life. I wanted to finish college and go to medical school.“ her voice cracked again as she looked at Steve. His gaze softened as he looked at her, she knew that he would probably tell her that this was a good thing, that she was now with people that could help her. He had been her rock, one of the only people that had seemed to understand that she was not elated at having this new life. Taken out of college by the State, being labeled as a danger to public safety. Her parents turned their back on her, not being the person they wanted her to be, not the amazing doctor they wanted her to be.

„Hey, shsh,“ Steve gently took her hand, squeezing it in his. „I know that you didn‘t want this.“ he whispered kindly, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. She grabbed his arm with her other hand, shuffling closer to him.

„Everyone I cared about and everyone that cared about me is just poof, gone in the wind. They don‘t know me anymore! They don‘t even know why I can‘t talk to them anymore. I am a risk to public safety, I can‘t even go out without anyone trailing me.“ hot tears continued running down her cheeks as she leaned into the man sitting beside her.

“I know that it is hard but things will get better and you can‘t change this. You know, you are our golden girl. The next star.“ he smiled at her, trying to comfort her. She sniffed, feeling her throat tighten as he called her that, the name her parents had always called her. During her childhood, the golden girl, the hope for the future.

“Come on, you are freezing cold.“ Steve gently took her elbows in his hands, drawing her up from where she was sitting. It was almost like that snapped her out of the loop she had fallen in, these simple words made her snap out of it.

As they walked through the park attached to the compound there was silence. Steve simply draped the jersey jacket over her shoulders as they walked. The air was quiet, most of the others were at the compound, only a few Avengers were gone on business, only some on missions, everything had been quiet recently.

Finally they reached the compound, the warm air making her shudder as they walked into the main entrance hall.

„It will get better eventually.“ Steve said in a quiet voice as they walked through the hallways of the compound. „At first it was like this. You feel alienated, you aren‘t like all the people that are around you anymore. People don‘t understand that some things are just different about you now.“ he paused. „Sometimes that can be a good thing and sometimes it isn‘t. It takes some time getting used to if I am honest and even here most don‘t even understand it.“

She looked at him as they had reached her door. Steve had always been one of the more understanding people, one of the only people that seemed to understand her. Now after some time she finally understood why he had been so understanding, the first Avenger had been in the same situation as her in some way.

„And it will take time until people see you as more than they want to see you as. It will take time until they will see you as more than a mascot for something they have made up in their mind.“ he gave her a kind smile and she felt her heart sink into her chest. The blonde hair slightly disheveled and the crooked smile made him look even more charming than he already did.

„I know that you can do this. I know that you are able to overcome this. It only takes some time.“ he smiled at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. She smiled softly, nodding her head as she stepped closer to him, hugging him tightly as she rested her head on his chest. Steve wrapped his arms around her, resting his cheek against the top of her head, gently pressing a kiss to her forehead.

„Thank you.“ she muttered against his chest.

„Of course. Can‘t have our golden girl be sad, right?“ he smiled at her, letting go of her, cupping her head with his hands and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. She laughed as she pulled away from him, a large grinning adorning her face as she opened the door to her room with her heart hammering in her chest.

[jamiesfootball]

Please tell me more about gender flipped Jamie because that seems like So Many Thoughts that I would love to hear

I have so many thoughts and yet they are so ephemeral and unspecific and this has been languishing in my askbox and this isn't technically what you asked for but here's what I wrote instead:

Chelsea sent Roy into retirement the way you sent an aging dog to be euthanized. Slowly and gradually, an inescapable march towards a day you knew was coming. Roy's agent gently broke the news to him that they wouldn't be renewing his contract, but there was no gently breaking Roy.

The retirement itself was an underwhelming affair; he stayed numb throughout the presser, answered questions, and left the spotlight. No bang--not even a whimper.

That was months ago. Now Roy Kent, former Chelsea star, was daydrinking at a bar in Richmond at half-three in the afternoon, wondering if he could convince the matron of the house to change the fucking channel.

"Rough season our girls have had," the proprietor, Mae, explained in a tone befitting a bartender cleaning a pint. In reality, she'd joined Roy at the bar with her own glass of chardonnay. "Lot of shake ups. New owner, new gaffer. Still, it could be worse. This new coach of theirs might be from the States, but we're sitting higher up on the table than we have in years. Does your lot keep up with the Super League, then?"

It was one in a series of loaded questions. Roy couldn't imagine you could be a bartender in London without knowing who Roy Kent was. Sheer wasted optimism, he'd had, moving out of Chelsea and assuming anything short of leaving the country would get him away from the haunting specter of his own fucking jersey.

"Yeah," Roy answered reluctantly. "Yeah, some of us keep up. All the teams in the Premier have sister teams, don't we?" Except for Richmond. The one outlier--the only team in the league without a big brother to speak of.

"Mm. Then you heard about the scandal?"

Roy grunted. Of course he heard. Everyone knew about Rupert Mannion ages ago; it was about bloody time someone did something. Awful for his ex-wife that it'd fallen to her to do it.

Mae topped off his chardonnay before pouring the remainder of the bottle into her own glass. "This new gaffer though, he's one of the good ones. He hangs around here sometimes, and you can tell just by listening to him--he respects those girls."

Since retiring, Roy had gotten used to living in a fog. He spent time with his niece, met with the yoga mums, let old ladies in bars talk his ears off to their heart's content, but anything he did between those events was a drudgery--a slow painful effort to drag one foot in front of the other, metaphorically and physically.

So he couldn't have said what it was about Mae's offhand praise for the Richmond Whippet's new gaffer that rankled him into talking back.

"Is he any good though?"

"What was that?"

"Their new coach," Roy gestured with his wine glass at the television in the corner. "The American. Is he any good?"

Mae shrugged one shoulder. "He's gotten better."

"So not really then."

The look Mae gave him could've scoured paint from a wall. "Well, talent isn't everything. Is it, Mr. Kent?"

She left under the guise of check on the three men in the corner. Regulars, by the looks of it; and the three of them the only ones aside from Mae wearing supporting colors for the local team.

He hadn't watched a match in ages. Oh, he'd caught highlights--it was impossible not too--but the few times he'd tried, unfairness ballooned in his chest like an atom bomb, and he gave up.

He hadn't bothered to watch anything from the women's league either. What difference would it make to try watching a different league. Sure, he didn't know any of them the way he knew the men in the Premier League, but football was football and envy was envy.

From what little he'd seen so far, he didn't envy Richmond at all. Everton had them on the ropes.

Roy winced as Number 14 knocked one off the crossbar. It'd been a good attempt. A solid cross from Number 9 had put it in the path, but with no one else nearby she'd gone for a risky shot.

From what little he'd paid attention to, only 9 and 14 were making any actual progress on the pitch, with 9 working double time to cut up the field. Every time the ball dropped back down the center, Richmond lost possession. Every. Time.

It was Number 6 that was the problem. McNally, that was it. Red-head, center-mid, captain. Roy knew her by reputation. A tough, seasoned player, who'd gotten her fair collection of caps for England. She had the experience; it didn't make any fucking sense why she'd be the weak link.

Roy looked away. He took a gulp of his chardonnay and relished in the unpleasant way it stung his nose. It'd be masochism to keep watching.

He kept watching.

Within five minutes, he'd cracked it.

Number 6 refused to pass to Number 9.

The gameplay split off like a branching tree. Either 6 got possession, crossed to another player, and they lost it to Everton's deep defensive line; or 9 got it herself and took it up the field, at which point the entire Richmond side narrowed down to the actions of 9 and 14.

What the fuck was going on?

In the aerial cameras showed two Everton players marking Number 9. Number 6 crossed to Number 24, and 24 took it to the net only for a defender to block her out easily.

A close up lingered on Number 24. She couldn't have looked more upset with herself. Young thing. Good talent, bad nerves. Fixable with the right support.

Number 6 got into Number 9's face and shouted. So where's her fucking support?

The camera panned in on 6 and 9 as what looked like a shouting match took place between the teammates. There was McNally, red-haired and red-faced and openly swearing even if the mics couldn't pick it up, and then there was Number 9. A cut of a girl, strong featured and iron-jawed, with her forehead set down like she intended to ram McNally like a bull if the captain came any closer.

What a fucking mess.

The camera panned to the gaffer, who stood with his hands in his pockets and a frown under his mustache. He called neither player off.

The match went back into play and almost immediately Number 9 took a foul. A blatant hit, tackled before she could grab possession again. Everton had singled her out just as clearly as Roy had.

Number 6 stood off to the side while 14 and 24 argued with the ref. The captain watched in open annoyance as Number 9 levered herself off the ground with a wince, her left side stained with grass and a limp.

Some fucking captain.

Number 9 took position for a free kick, and her name finally flashed across the screen in a font large enough for Roy to read. Jamie Tartt. Tartt lined up for the kick, for all the good it would do when she was a good forty meters back--

Tartt walloped the ball cleanly into the net.

A frisson of electricity ran down Roy's spine.

The lads at the end of the bar broke into cheers.

Half of the Richmond Whippets descended on Tartt. The other half shuffled around in discontent.

Number 24--Obisanya--nodded at Tartt, who nodded back. They didn't hug.

Extricating herself from (half) of her teammates, Tartt threw an arm around the only person she'd passed to all night--14, Rojas. Heads pressed together, headband to matching headband, they looked furtive and serious in their two-person huddle.

The camera panned back to the gaffer. He clapped but he didn't celebrate.

The whole thing was bizarre.

No, Mae was right; talent wasn't everything. Because Richmond had talent--what a spectacular fucking goal--and they were a fucking mess, like nothing Roy had ever witnessed before in his career.

If Mae was willing to put up with him, he might have to come back for the next match. Who knew, maybe he'd try swinging by on an off-match day to catch their gaffer and give him a piece of his mind.

Finally, something to look forward to. His sister would be so proud.

[reality-detective]

⚠️ ⚠️ ⚠️ HURRICANE UPDATE ⚠️ ⚠️ ⚠️

I've been doing a little research and trying to connect some dots with some information about hurricane Idalia. First off I will start with this article 👇

There are a few things that jumped out at me in this article.

#1 - Hurricane Hunters made their first flights into Tropical Storm Idalia on Sunday, launching what will be one of the largest sequences of flights and weather-balloon launches carried out in years to monitor a potential Atlantic hurricane.

#2 - The reconnaissance plan issued on Saturday included a flurry of NOAA and Air Force flights that began on Sunday to monitor Idalia as well as potent Hurricane Franklin, which will remain well east of the United States (see below). The biggest question marks on Sunday were how large and strong Idalia will be at landfall and where exactly on the Florida Gulf Coast it will arrive.

These 👆 alone should be making you ask questions, but let's continue. 👇

Contaminated gasoline? 🤔

Citgo has released the following list of affected Florida gas stations:👇

Most of these are along the western side of Florida. Where is Idalia tracking? The West side of Florida. 👇

Widespread Gasoline Contamination & Diesel

The stations affected by the contamination have been asked to stop selling gasoline until the fuel is replaced and the tanks are cleaned.

MY THOUGHTS: 👇

I'm getting Maui vibes... Right before a major tropical storm/hurricane? Thousands, if not possibly hundreds of thousands of vehicles affected, as well as home generators...

This is beginning to smell like sabotage. 🤔

I saw a list of states where possible DEW attacks may take place.

Here's that list: 👇

There were 15 states on a list that showed possible planned DEW Attacks in the future...

Texas, Arizona, Montana, New Jersey, New Mexico, Washington, Oregon, Colorado, Florida, California, Nevada, Idaho, Wyoming, Utah and Oklahoma.

I don't want to create any fear with this, I'm just pointing some things out, I'm trying to connect some dots so people can be aware and prepare for the worst.

Am I right? >>> Is it Florida's turn?

We're about to find out... 🤔

Last comment: 👇

I have been in hurricanes multiple times and I have listened to the local news many times and this one started out as being a cat 1 at landfall, then it was said to be a cat 2 now less than 24 hours later they are saying it will be a powerful cat 3 and it will continue to intensify up until landfall so could it be a cat 4 at landfall? Possibly because I keep hearing the term "Rapid Intensification" more than any other hurricane I have been in.

Pay Attention and implement the 6 P Rule - Proper Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance. 🤔

EVERYONE STAY SAFE OUT THERE‼️ 🙏

[broooooo]

Your all in Luck, another story I guess?

----

Names jack, 19 and pretty much nothing going on in highschool,

As I enter another boring gym lesson

Coach didn't like my t-shirt I was wearing, I forgot my regular gym top and had to wear my large polo,

He was holding a trial football match so he can look out for new players for the team, he told me to go get one of the shirts in the back

A pile of used football jerseys lay in a cardboard box, along side other boxes filled with "extra" fit, like cleats, gear, tights, socks, jock straps ... eugh, even though I hated the idea of it, I had no other choice, unless going shirtless, exposing my thin frame , to everyone was something I wanted , which it isn't, and I can't just sit out like usual, my grade would suffer and I'd get in trouble again.

So I pull out a jersey from the box, the musky smell of sweat, ax body sprey and stink from all the ppl who have worn this temporarily, wafted in my face, number 1, Red and black, the school's colors

"damn, this is smells bad", but I'm sure once coach gives me something to do I'll get sweaty too and not really notice it, yeah..

Taking off my polo and discarding it to then slide the Jersey on, it's way to big, it feels sticky almost .

That's when it hits,

"ughh I don't feel so good", the smell of this room and shirt must of gotten to me. I'm dizzy and .. hard? ,

"iv never been interested in this kind of stuff.. why am I?.."

I go blank, drool starts to drip from my mouth, my mind shuts down, my body moves on its own.

I go to the other boxes and take out each piece of the kit and put it on, all too big mind you.

The cleats are skitty and slimy, the jock strap is stained ,the fabrics hard from all the sweat and cum. , The pads are heavy

I start to feel heat everywhere, my body's tingling sharply

My body starts is grow , my arms and hands burst with muscle, fingers hardened from training and the gym, my chest inflates with hard nipples, 6 pack washboard cum gutter abs form, my shoulders are widening filling out that jersey and pads, my neck thickens, my jaw is reshaping into a more Square shape with a sharp chin strap beard with my hair turning into a undercut, shaved sides situation.

My legs and feet thicken, and elongate cracking and reshaping, the tights and jock now tight against my skin with the cleats fitting snug against my now stinking jock feet

My cock hard and struggling elongates and thickens, my balls are golf balls now, my now 12 inch dick is freed when my arms move to let it out,

I start jerking off, the sound of the secret radio playing, a sound so quite, it's hard to catch normally,

My mind reshapes, as I listen to the words from the Radio track

I start to jerk faster as my old memories go into my balls

In a deeper masculine voice I repeat

"I am I a jock ...

I must obey.... Coach ..

I am quarterback of the football team..

Coach... Obey

I am a good boy ...

I am a football....

Jock , I..

I cum

cum spews everywhere, releasing my old self, as my new jock personality takes hold

My mind starts to clear as I re awaken from my tranced state.

I put my dick into my tights and tie them,

Forgetting why I'm hear and not smashing tryouts comes to mind, I grab a healmet and I back towards the field,

In my head,

"I am a dum jock "

__

Well... Idk if it's as good as before but eh, it exists now.

[cdyssey]

Lies

Summary: When Barbara has a flat tire at her church, Melissa goes to help her. Of course she does. (Post-2x13).

CW: Religious Guilt, Alcohol, Emotional Infidelity/Infidelity

AO3 Link

—

Gerald Howard is the one who calls her.

It’s unscheduled, for sure, but not entirely unexpected.

He’s out-of-town on a work trip, and as such, he only calls Melissa when he’s gone, away, out-of-pocket, and unavailable.

When he has a slight variation of the same, old favor to ask of her. 

Take care of her for me, will you?

(Like she doesn’t already do so anyway.)

“‘Sup, Ger?” Melissa says around the toothpick clenched between her teeth, propping her phone against her ear with her shoulder. She’s just polished off the rest of her leftover steak from the other night, and now she’s in the process of making herself an excessivelyboozy bushwacker with every intention of getting buzzed.

Between the demands of the fundraiser and everyone and their cousins either fighting or eye-fucking, it’s been a long damn week at Abbott Elementary.

Melissa had mostly stayed out of it, except to help two grown men arbitrate custody rights over a cat and give Janine a little unsolicited dating advice that may have accidentally just boiled down to women are hot… but still, all of the collected tension gradually sucked the air from the hallways and kept her on edge—that fine line between general wariness and hypervigilance that she tends to straddle on a daily basis.

So Mama undoubtedly needs a drink… or two… to help ease her into the weekend. She’d been planning on stripping down to her undergarments and curling up in her bed to watch basketball, sipping on her bushwacker through a bright green bendy straw…

When Gerald calls, though—sometime a little after six—she gets a gut feeling that these best laid plans might just have to wait until later.

“Nothing much, Mel,” he returns, and she can hear the tired smile in his voice, his gentle fondness for her, his familiar care. “Still in Jersey for a couple of days. This job’s taking a little longer than expected…” 

Gerald’s a welder and he sometimes gets sent out-of-state for the odd contract or two. Decent money. Effed up hours. It’s been happening with more and more frequency lately too, driving his wife nearly up the wall and through it. 

“He’s never home anymore,” she’d only recently complained. They’d been sitting on the sagging couch in the break room together, waiting for the morning news to come on. No one else had arrived yet, and so their shoulders just touched, the soft lines of their thighs.

Side-by-side. 

Parallel to each other.

Always.

And Barbara had idly played with her ornate wedding ring, twisting and twisting it around the base of her finger, while Melissa had simply watched, mesmerized by the way that the diamonds glittered in the harsh light.

“And even when he is home… even when we’re in the same room—" She had gone on before abruptly stopping, biting her plump lower lip, visibly conscious that she was about to reveal too much.

Even to Melissa. 

Perhaps especially to her.

For all that the two of them shared between and with one another, somewhere along the way of their nearly thirty year friendship, they had articulated an implicit rule to never quite discuss the intimacies of their love lives anymore. 

That particular conversation nearly always devolved into one of their rare and exceedingly bitter fights.

(You don’t know him like I do, they’ve both said to each other before.)

(Why do you care so much?)

“Mm,” Barbara had only murmured, shaking her perfectly coiffed head, “forgive me, Melissa—you shouldn’t have to be subjected to my marital woes before the bell has even rung…”

In that moment, as Barbara expertly smoothed her troubled brow over with a sad and beatific smile, Melissa hadn’t dared transgressed their personal golden rule of noninterference. Letting the other wallow, no matter how much it hurt to watch them suffer. Moreover, she knew from experience that there was nothing to say to that anyway—nothing, at least, that the older woman was ready to actually hear.

But in the absence of words—in the mutual understanding that they were not allowed to confront each other directly in that way—she reached over and laced Barbara’s slender fingers with her own, creating yet another contact point between them.

Shoulders.

Thighs.

Hands.

Barbara had permitted the intimate touch; she even closed her darkly framed eyes and leaned into it.

It was an innocuous indulgence that both of them could live with come the next morning.

“Oh, yeah, Jersey,” Melissa replies neutrally, finally taking the toothpick out of her mouth and lightly tossing it into the nearby trash can. “Barb said somethin’ about that.”

Granted, she can’t help but get one jab in, perhaps as recompense for all the times that she’s had to listen to Barbara endlessly complain about the circular problem, day-in and day-out: “She swears y’spend more time in a hotel than at home these days.”

She has no particular remorse for saying so; she knows this isn't exactly news to him.

“Occupational hazard,” Gerald mumbles sheepishly, his only reasonable defense, his go-to excuse, that same somethingshe’s pretty sure that both Howards tell themselves at night, incapable of admitting to anything else.

“I know,” Melissa frowns sympathetically because even still, despite her frustrations, she gets it.

She really does.

It took her and Joe years upon miserable years to ever 'fess up to the truth of what time had done to them and their once loving marriage—and even then, they could only do it when the barrel of their loaded histories were pressed against each other’s already bleeding skin. 

In the end, she couldn’t stand for him to even touch her.

They fought so much—every day and all the goddamn time. If it wasn’t about their abysmal finances, then it was about his booze problem, the way he drowned a particularly bad fire in whiskey. And if it was supposedly about his jealousy that men and women alike looked at her whenever they went out, then it was really about sexand their increasing lack of it thereof.

In the end, too selfish to ever go long without a good fuck, he cheated on her with Nina Santa Cruz, one of their mutual friends.

And that was that.

The trigger was pulled; there was nothing left to do except bury their vows in a shared grave and call it a goddamn waste.

They had loved each other.

Really.

But that’d been a long time ago, and they had been different people then.

(They had just been kids.)

“But, uh, listen… that’s kinda what I’m calling about anyway,” Gerald continues, his tone now hesitant, appropriately chastised. “Just got off the phone with Barbara and she said that she has a flat tire at our church. Bible Club tonight, y’know… I called my brother, but he won’t be able to help her out for another hour or so. Do you mind swinging by there and taking a look?”

She doesn’t even hesitate. 

“’Course,” she nods vigorously—only dimly aware that Gerald can’t see her—already moving, already raring to go. Barbara is in trouble. Barbara needs her. She unceremoniously shoves her blender glass with the unfinished bushwacker in the fridge, throws on a leather jacket and scarf, and unhooks her keys from their place on the wall. In the mad whirl and cacophonous rush, she almost misses his next response.

“Thank God—I knew you’d say yes,” he sighs in audible relief. “It’s funny. Barb seemed kind of reluctant to call you...”

“Huh?” The question comes out a little more forcefully than she had intended. Hurt even. (Melissa hates to admit it—how easily hurt that she gets.) She’s at the door that leads from her kitchen to the garage, her fingers tensed around the brass handle as she digests those thoroughly unexpected words. “What d’you mean by that?”

Gerald must hear the defensiveness in her tone because he scrambles to come up with a placating answer. 

“Oh, well, you know our Barb,” he chuckles nervously, and her stomach strangely twists at the choice phrasing. Not his Barb. Theirs. As though they have an equal claim to knowing her intimately: her husband and her... best friend. “So prideful… and she told me that you were busy doing something with Gary tonight.”

The strange assertion stops her short.

Not only is it explicitly untrue—(she hasn’t been out with Gary the Vending Machine Guy in ages)—but Barbara specifically knows that it’s untrue. In fact, just before they’d walked to their cars this afternoon, Melissa had told her what her plans were for the evening.

Nothing and jack squat.

Wanna come over for dinner?

It’d both been her way of making sure that Barbara wasn’t alone in her achingly empty house for yet another night while Gerald was gone… and also a subtle opportunity for her to check in with her after everything that had gone down with the fundraiser and Ava. Melissa has had a long week just being at the margins of everything, but Barbara, in the center of it and the thick, has had a hard one. 

There’s a crucial difference in the fact, but there has been precious little time for her to pull Barbara off to the side and ask her how she really feels about any of it. 

She got a sense, from how Ava and Barbara had been laughing together in the gym earlier today at the assembly, that they had at least patched things up; however, Melissa won’t be completely satisfied until she hears it from her friend’s mouth that she’s okay.

Barbara had politely refused her offer, had told her that she was going to Bible Club, but that she'd see her on Monday, girlfriend. And nothing had seemed amiss except for a vague tiredness in her eyes and perhaps a certain tightness in her lipstick coated smile that could have been just a trick of the light.

Clearly, though, something is up.

“Seriously, Mel, if you’re busy, don’t worry about it,” Gerald adds as she mulls this over in complicated silence. “Samuel will be able to get to her once he gets off of work, and there are probably still folks at the church who can keep her company…” 

“No,” Melissa says hastily, realizing that he’s trying to give her a generous out. “I’ve got it. Gary, uh, went home early.”

She’s not entirely sure why she’s playing into Barbara’s inexplicable lie—perhaps to spare her best friend the ignominy of being caught, perhaps because she wants to be the sole one to discover the truth, perhaps because she’s starting to get an inkling that whatever is going on is bigger than she’d originally assumed, and only she seems to realize this.

To recognize the warning signs.

Gerald is… well... absent.

“Oh, good,” comes a grateful reply, a thoroughly oblivious one. “Thank you again, Melissa. What would we ever do without you?”

“Excellent question,” she laughs heavily, shrugging a hand across the back of her neck.

The gesture does not warm her eyes.

— 

Some twenty-five minutes later, when Melissa pulls into the driveway of the Baptist church that’s a little less than ten miles away from Barbara’s house, she’s greeted with an utterly strange and estranging sight: a nearly empty parking lot, a vast and unlit building, and a dark silhouette sitting on the stone steps leading up to the white double doors—simply shivering in a long, silvery coat with a fur collar…

As she eases into the empty spot to the right of the familiar black sedan that’s parked directly in front of the stairs, her headlights rove over and mercilessly illuminate that tall and lonely figure.

Barbara Howard, ashen with the cold, squints and visors her eyes against the twin beams, her mouth rounded in a perfect ‘o’ of surprise.

She’s caught.

Apprehended.

And, just by the looks of her, clearly undone.

Melissa barely remembers to brake her car and turn the ignition off before she’s stumbling out of her door and into the biting air. Out of the corner of her eye, she can already tell that Barbara’s front right tire is indeed flat, but she’ll worry about that later. Knows how to put a spare on with her eyes closed.

There are bigger problems to deal with, far worse demons to bravely confront.

“What the hell are you doin’ out here, Barb?” She calls out, her voice nearly swept away by the wind. Folding her arms over her chest, she marches forward and forward still until she’s at the foot of the weathered staircase, and Barbara’s wide-eyed gaze is consuming her. Her painted lips are chapped, her cheeks noticeably hollow, and unmistakable tear tracks have vertically frozen on the sharply hewn planes of her face. “You’re freezin’ your ass off.” 

“Language, Melissa,” Barbara scolds reflexively, though the sound is vacant, lacking any real conviction. “We’re near the house of the Lord…” 

“Sorry.” She resists the urge to roll her eyes at the familiar sanctimony, recognizing that now is hardly the time. “You’re freezin’ your tush off. Is that better?” 

But she doesn’t receive a response, Barbara now determinedly looking somewhere over Melissa’s shoulder, plainly trying not to cry, so loathe to be vulnerable in front of anyone, eternally convinced that no one wants her emotional honesty, that they’ve come to expect the performance and the impeccable mask. 

Melissa gets it.

She really does.

Nine times out of ten, she feels the exact same way.

“Okay, okay, no more wisecrackin’ out of me,” she says, her voice softening, and she takes the last couple of steps between herself and Barbara at a jog. When she’s even with the other woman, she lowers herself down gently until they’re sitting as they always do—as they have historically done—brushing limbs. Shoulders. Hips. Thighs. It doesn’t escape Melissa’s notice that Barbara’s forgotten her gloves again, and her fingers are trembling where they're clasped in a neat temple next to her stomach.

Without hesitating, she peels off her own green scarf and methodically winds it around Barbara’s chilled hands like she’s bandaging a critical wound.

“So level with me here,” she goes on as she finishes the job, loosely tucking the ends away. Barbara only stares down at her now swaddled appendages, her eyes glazed over, her posture as unimpeachable as ever, shoulders squared, spine ramrod straight, like a perfect, porcelain doll. “You’re sitting outside in the cold in front of a completely dark church even though it’s barely seven o’clock. And your tire’s flat, but ya lie to your husband about why you don’t want me to come ‘n bail you out.” 

Barbara inhales sharply at this last part—at being called out for her fib—snapping out of her reverie as though stricken.

“Melissa, I—” She rasps, audibly horrified.

“—I’m not mad,” Melissa adds quickly, curling her hand around the other woman’s slender wrist and squeezing. It’s true enough. Any anger that she might have felt quickly dissipated upon seeing the kindergarten teacher on the steps, so sad and tired. Irrefutably broken. She’s never had it in her to kick a helpless creature when it’s down. “I just wanna understand. This isn’t like you…”

In the ensuing silence that follows this choice assertion, long and painfully loaded, the harsh wind eddies around them both. Melissa instinctively wants to encircle Barbara with her arms and shield her from it.

But she takes one look at her face, at the divot in her black brow, at the ruins of her ancient eyes just beneath, and immediately understands that the kindergarten teacher is barely feeling the cold right now, that whatever is hurting her springs from some deep well within her soul, spewing forth like a polluted spillage, gurgling and gushing.

Simply oozing.

An infection has settled, and it has made Barbara Howard absolutely sick. 

“Isn’t it, though?” Comes a quiet reply, faint and almost indistinguishable, but wrought with unmistakable bitterness. “I am all hypocrisy, Melissa… I’ve tried so hard to be good, to follow all of God’s carefully articulated edicts, and still fall short of His glory…”

“Is this about Ava?” Melissa guesses—perhaps a little too hastily. Even though she hasn’t heard all the details yet, she’s at least understood that Barbara’s fight with the principal had been about Ava playing dirty with the fundraiser and the older woman not liking it. “If it is, I’ll talk to her.”

And say what—she doesn’t exactly know. 

She doesn’t particularly see anything wrong with what Ava did in the first place. 

Hell, in her shoes, she would have done the same herself.

She has done the same herself. What Ava calls her  charisma, the Schemmentis just know as basic survivalism—whatever it takes to be the last shmuck standing.

But she’s desperate to solve the problem, to propose a solution that will make the woman next her stop looking so haunted. Barbara shakes her head, though, with more vehemence than she’s displayed through the entire conversation.

“No,” she says firmly, cutting her dark eyes at Melissa. “This isn’t about Ava… she… she actually made a lot of sense this week, perhaps being the first person to ever directly tell me that many of my moral boundaries come from a position of privilege—the luxury of never having had to learn better.”

It’s a charged sentence, one that the second-grade teacher doesn’t have to dwell on very long for it to click. Barbara Howard is undoubtedly a sheltered woman in many respects, having never needed one goddamn reason to play in the mud as she had once so indelicately put it, cutting Melissa to the quick. She’d been discounted by so many people in her life that it’d almost become background noise—the way that every Tom, Dick, and Harry had no trouble in presuming the worst of her. But never in a million years had she ever thought the same sort of dismissive rhetoric would ever come from Barbara, her closest friend in the entire world.

Barbara, who had always believed in her.

Barbara, who thought her capable.

Resourceful.

She supposes, though, the other teacher must have limited her definition of Melissa's resourcefulness to just having a guy who knows a guy, willfully ignoring that her affinities for scraping by and twisting arms and shaking people down are crucial extensions of this trait. Indeed, being resourceful to her just means doing whatever it takes to endure a life where she learned quickly enough that just about everyone has it in them to hold a knife.

Melissa is silent at this revelation—awed that Ava of all people had been the one to tease it out of Barbara and maybe even a little jealous that she hadn’t been able to do so herself.

That she hadn’t been the one to make her friend fully understand that there is no such thing as clear-cut morals in a world of monsters and men, especially not when the two are often one and the same.

“This is about me,” Barbara continues of her own accord, her voice breaking on that last syllable, that simple and so heavily freighted word. “And the fact that even though I am well aware of my own follies, of the sins that stain my immortal soul, I… cannot bring myself to fully repent, to refute Ava’s philosophies, to emphasize the straight and narrow way to my students…”

She pauses, glancing at Melissa through long lashes, tears shining in her eyes. 

“To regret shaking down Sister Delisha Sloss for you, Melissa," she breathes, her voice low and constricted. “I was so happy to do that—if it allowed me to make things right with you, if it granted me your precious forgiveness—that it was easy to justify everything I had thought wrong about it in the first place…”

So they’re both thinking of that day, huh?

Of one of the most horrible fights that they have ever had.

Barbara doesn’t regret her apology, she’s saying.

It was sin, but even still—

She did it for Melissa—she cares for her that much—and the confirmation of this settles in her belly with a warmth and a gratitude that she would have never thought possible.

“Barb,” she intones gently, still gripping the other’s wrist, “there’s nothin’ to regret about any of that. Being good and being right sometimes aren’t the same thing in this world. Life's too complicated for that. Humans are, and God’s gotta understand that.”

He’s God, not some fundamentalist Christian.

Surely, He’s made it so that the fate of one’s soul isn’t determined by how well one mindlessly and dispassionately follows a set of written rules.

Surely, that is not all that worship boils down to in the end.

“I think you’re right,” Barbara readily replies, sniffing as surreptitiously as possible. “I think you and Ava both are for that matter—”

“—words I never thought I’d hear ya say for 500, Alex,” Melissa can’t resist the quip and receives a baleful glare in return.

Okay, she deserves that one.

“—but understanding that for myself? Internalizing such a crucial message? That’s even trickier when I’m surrounded by people who don’t get it either,” she finishes with an exhausted sigh, glancing over her shoulder at the church, magnificent and imposing even in the concentrated gloom of this starless night. Melissa follows her gaze to see that she’s specifically staring at the double doors, upon which a neon pink flyer has been taped to one of them.

She can’t make out the wording from this distance, but she doesn’t have to—Barbara explains in a horrifyingly numb voice.

“I’m being iced out,” she says, her eyes flat. “Bible Club was apparently canceled this evening, and the first I heard of it was when I pulled up and saw that notice on the door. I should have received a call, or even just a text from a fellow sister in Christ, but why would I?”

She laughs bitterly, and the unpleasant sound aches Melissa’s sternum—the clarity in it, the conviction.

“When Sister Sloss—yes, her"—she nods vigorously at whatever disgusted expression must be manifesting on Melissa's face—"saw us at the mall the other day, she designated me as not church-like, so naturally, the whole Bible Club—ha! perhaps even the entire congregation!—probably believes so as well now, and I’m being righteously punished for it, judged and clearly found wanting…"

Barbara smiles coldly, the gesture settling like iron on her lips.

"Perhaps the good Lord is in on the joke too if my flat tire is any indication of the karma that I’ve earned."

Melissa just stares at her, blinking.

“So wait—you mean t’tell me that the woman who’s been stealin’ from your church has the gall to call you not church-like?” She huffs indignantly, her breath forming a visible cloud in front of her face. (Goddamn, it’s freezing.) “And you believe her?!”

“Yes,” Barbara laughs again, this time sounding genuinely amused at Melissa’s outrage, this time almost sounding like herself again, and somehow, at the same time, still sounding so broken. (Maybe, though, this is just how the older woman always sounds, and she's just taken all the correct precautions to masterfully hide it.) “Utterly ridiculous, I know.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, and I thought I had some image issues,” she shakes her head, unable to see the humor in Barbara Howard loathing herself as much as she clearly does. There is nothing funny about that, nothing acceptable, nothing even remotely light. “But you, hon, you take the cake, icing and all.”

She says this last part very gently, though, well-aware that Barbara’s conception of herself is a delicate subject, and indeed, even at this slight comment, the mirth quickly drains from the other’s eyes, leaving nothing behind but the unwanted dregs—that same sense of loss that she’d perceived in them earlier when she had first pulled up. 

Barbara is as unbalanced as she has ever seen her, standing on a tightrope high above a dark, seething sea. Melissa wants nothing more than to grab her hand and lead her back to solid ground, wants to tell her that she can rest now.

It's over.

There’s no more need to so capably perform.

She's going to fall and break her neck; she's going to plummet, headfirst, into that violent and pitiless sea.

“Yes,” the older woman returns quietly, her shoulders sagging, even if just a little. “I’m starting to recognize that too…”

And a tear finally slips from the corner of one of her eyes, slinking down the crevasse of her angular cheek, collecting calmly, like a crystallized memento, on the vertex of her chin.

But Melissa, without so much as blinking, reaches over and gently thumbs it away, cupping the line of her beautiful jaw. She knows she should let go—painfully cognizant that this moment does not require such prolonged intimacy—but she doesn’t. She just holds Barbara’s face in the palm of her hand, in the gentle caress of her shivering fingertips.

“I’m sorry that I lied to Gerald,” Barbara croaks, leaning in to the touch, more tears starting to visibly well, falling in earnest now. “I didn’t want you to see me like this, the mess that I am.”

“Shh,” Melissa consoles her, continually swiping at her face. “I know. I know.”

“I don’t deserve you, Melissa Schemmenti.

“Don’t say that,” she protests fiercely, meaning it with everything in her, with every atom, every indivisible cell. “Love isn’t flippin’ conditional, Barbara.”

Goddamn, who taught you that?

How did you ever come to think such a horrible thing?

“You… love me?” Barbara asks, her voice almost aching with childlike wonder, and the simple question and the older woman’s rapt, awed expression nearly knocks the air from her lungs, and on the steps of this Baptist church, she’s suddenly staring at her best friend’s lips, which are only inches away from her own—the plum color of them, the beauty—and seriously thinking about committing sacrilege.

“Yeah, ‘course,” she breathes, her fingers still gracefully arched against that cool, smooth skin. “To know ya is to love you, Barbara Howard, all of you—even your messiness."

She loves every part of her. 

Oh, God, how she does.

And she has tried so hard to ignore this crucial fact for years and years now—deeply aware that Barbara is a somewhat happily married woman—but knowing and feeling are two entirely separate entities, and they war with each other daily, unfailingly drawing blood when they clash.

Barbara visibly swallows at this, the peristaltic motion pronounced in the pillar of her throat, and Melissa’s heart throbs against the wall of her chest, damn near close to leaping out of her ribcage and killing her.

(Maybe even liberating her at the exact same time.)

Without being fully aware of what she’s doing, or perhaps being entirely aware, perhaps losing all the inhibitions that have kept her in line, Melissa leans forward, still holding the other woman's face—

—and Barbara, as though magnetized, eyes wide open with melancholy and longing and horror and holy delight, does so too—

—but as their foreheads just touch, the tips of their noses brushing, their hot breaths flooding over each other's skin, they both recoil backwards, like two binary stars who have remembered that their lot in life is to eternally orbit each other.

Spiraling around the same center of gravity for time immemorial but never, ever colliding.

Barbara pulls away violently, gasping for air, unloosing the scarf around her hands so she can massage her convulsing neck. She coughs and coughs—her chest heaving—and she coughs. 

And Melissa, suddenly feeling sick at what she’d nearly made Barbara do, can only pinch the bridge of her nose against the nausea surging through her.

They’re literally on the steps of a temple, and they almost just desecrated it together.

They almost just kissed.

“Fuck,” she spits out, even though she's not supposed to be cursing because something holy happens here. Something decent. But she forgets herself. She'd almost just done a far worse thing. “Sorry, Barb, I—“

“No, no,” Barbara interrupts her, her voice impossibly hoarse. “I just… accidentally slipped, that’s all.”

She had done no such thing.

This is the crucial lie that they will both tell themselves, though, the story they will desperately cling to so as to keep everything the same between them come Monday morning. 

They are just friends.

Barbara slipped.

Melissa loves her but not like that.

“Oh,” she happily plays along, relief flooding through her entire nervous system at this exceptionally good pretense, this readymade out. “You’re always such a klutz.”

She most certainly is not, but this is the role that Barbara will gracefully inhabit to make this charade work for the both of them.

“Guilty as charged,” she laughs, and Melissa does too, the sounds horrible and strained and just a little hysterical—and maybe a whole lot—as they mingle in the darkness of the night, the unrelenting coldness.

“C’mon, let’s get your flat changed before both of us freeze t'death,” she suggests, standing up somewhat laboriously, nearly toppling over, her joints all sore and stiff. She catches herself on the nearest railing. “I’ll follow ya home and make sure the spare doesn’t pop or anything.”

Melissa damn well knows that she should extend a hand and offer to help Barbara up too, but she thinks that could be dangerous.

What if Barbara accidentally slips again? 

So she faces forward, towards their cars, and starts legging her way back to them. Always prepared for emergencies such as these, she’s got a jack in her car and a heavy duty flashlight. It won’t take her long to put the donut tire on at all…

“I’m so sorry, Melissa,” she only just hears the spoken words, whispered as they are to her retreating back, snatched up as they almost are by the brutal, unforgiving wind. “I love you too.”

Melissa pauses on the bottommost step, the heels of her boots teetering on the precipice and the vertiginous edge.

She knows if she looks behind her now, it will all be over. She will not freeze. She will not turn to stone. She will run to Barbara Howard, that married, married woman and tenderly cup the nape of her neck. She will kiss her senseless, spread her lips like they are divine, and she will enjoy every last second of their mutually entangled sin… she’s never exactly had a problem with being a cheat…

… but then, Melissa—just as Barbara must do every single day—suddenly hears Gerald Howard’s soft voice in her ears.

Take care of her for me, will you?

Our Barb.

What would we do without you?

And the horror of those words—the weight of that carefully placed trust—simply guts her. She unwittingly touches her stomach and half-expects for it to be covered in matted blood.

“Huh?” Her voice sounds like a nasty echo of itself. “What was that? I didn’t hear ya.”

(But she did, and despite what both of them would like to believe, there's no rewinding the tape, no unringing the bell, no resetting the sands in the hourglass, no taking back the words they have said and the things they have almost done and the secret something that exists between them, taking up space every time that they sit next to each other in the same damn room. They love each other; the fact is irrefutable. They love each other; they're running away from the fact even now, as though the freshly dug dirt won't be visible in the clear light of day.)

“Nothing,” comes an equally harried reply. “I just said that I’m right behind you…”

Sure, yes.

That’s exactly what Barbara must have said.

Melissa lets out a breath that she didn't realize she had been holding and takes that final step. The soles of her boots harshly scuff the dark pavement, the sound intolerable to her ears.

Life goes on anyway.

[bruceandmary]

I'm still processing what happened last night. I was more nervous than I could remember in years to the point that I was shaking a little, but it was all worth it in the end. That's because I got to meet Christopher Paolini at the release event for "Murtagh."

I've loved the Inheritance Cycle ever since my parents gave me the first two (and only, back then) books in a box set on Christmas Day almost 17 years ago. They were the first full-length fantasy books I had ever read and I devoured them. When Brisingr, Inheritance, and The Fork, the Witch, and the Worm were released, I got them as soon as I possibly could. The moment Murtagh was being announced, I was over the moon. Then in July, I got the stunning news that his book tour would begin at a Barnes and Noble in New Jersey, my home state. I couldn't believe it. This was a chance I never believed I would get. I reserved the book, put in for time off, and counted down the days until November 7th finally arrived.

When I got there last night, I was amazed at how many people were already there over an hour before the event started. There were kids younger than I was when I started reading the series and adults far older than I am now. I went straight to the registers, picked up my copy with its Zar'roc pin, then found my way to a good spot. From there, the building filled up until almost everyone was brushing elbows. Right at 6:00 PM, Christopher Paolini came in and immediately brought down the house. I was cheering, but also utterly in awe at being able to be there. The talk he gave was funny and heartfelt and I learned so much about him and the Inheritance Cycle I had never knew before. He then turned the mic over to Gerard Doyle, who's done the reading for every single audiobook. It was incredible to hear what Murtagh and Thorn sounded like. Afterwards, Christopher opened the floor to questions and I was able to have mine answered.

When the Q&A was finished, it was time for the book signing. I ended up waiting over an hour before the block my number was called because, in addition to the personalized copy, Christopher would be signing as many back copies as a person wanted, but it was worth the wait. It took another twenty-five or thirty minutes before I reached the table. I spoke a little of the ancient language and he responded in it with a smile. The only copy I brought aside from Murtagh was Eragon, still in its original dust jacket. While signing them, I was able to briefly ask him another question and he answered me again. It was a moment I'll never forget. I was then able to get my copy signed by Gerard Doyle.

By the time I reached my car, I was literally shaking from excitement. When I got in, I focused myself so I could get home and drove off.

So far, Murtagh has been beyond my wildest dreams from what I expected. I'm about 120 pages in and it's had twists and turns that leave me utterly stumped as to what will happen next. The black and white illustrations are incredible to look at and I plan to translate the map as soon as I finish the book. But none of that compares to what's on the title page. For the rest of my life, I'll be able to open to it and the title page of Eragon to see Christopher Paolini's and Gerard Doyle's signatures there. When I see those pages, I'll be reminded of a night that will mean more to me than anyone will ever know.

Thank you, Gerard Doyle.

And thank you, Christopher Paolini.

Atra esterní ono thelduin.