#nico definitely told him

[echo-stimmingrose]

Hades removed the curse on the Oracle only after he found out Rachel hit his father in the eye with a plastic hairbrush.

[tsireyast]

I feel like we dont talk about one of the main reasons nico was ostracized at camp, not just because hes a son of hades.

Camp half blood is small enough so that rumors and information spread fast, but that doesn't mean they are always right. So imagine you're a random camper, and you're told nico, one of the new campers, gets in a big fight with Percy. During which he makes skeletons appear and somehow opens a huge crack in the floor. But percy wins and nico leaves camp.

Don't you think it would've rang a bell?

Don't you think it would've reminded them too much of two summers ago, with luke?

Dont you think everyone would've been even more scared, because now they know nico is a child of hades, one of the big three, and therefore very powerful?

There must have been so many rumors that summer of nico being part of the kronos army. Betraying camp just like luke did.

Of course after the battle of manhattan many people would've changed their minds. Hes in their side now, after all. But there are probably still many campers who think nico left them to join luke, before he changed their mind and helped them win against luke and kronos. People who still hold a grudge against him for joining the "enemy".

[ladynicte]

I really wonder if fatal flaws are actually like a family thing, Bianca does say that, that the fatal flaw of all children of Hades is holding onto grudges, but I do wonder if maybe that's just her fatal flaw and she just assumed that would be Nico's too

[puckinghischier]

Neighbors

nico hischier x fem!reader

summary - reader can’t bring herself to talk to her new neighbor

notes - guess who’s backkkkkk!!! y’all i have missed writing so much, and i’m so happy i could get this out to y’all. i’m a bit rusty so keep that in mind while reading, but i hope you enjoy it anyways. and as always, happy reading 🫶🏼

request - from my 400 follower celly - “Abort mission, I repeat, abort mission!” “What do you mean abort mission? All you were doing was introducing yourself to your neighbor?” “Yeah, and he’s too attractive. I can never speak to him again” with either luke or nico

[3.3k]

“I really think today is the day, Mia,” you speak in to the cell phone wedged in-between your shoulder and cheek, putting away a few decorative trinkets on the newly hung shelf above your TV.

“You’re telling me you’re actually going to talk to him?” She questions, her tone telling you she doesn’t believe you in the slightest.

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you miss ‘I don’t believe my best friend has the guts to talk to a cute guy,’” you huff out, stretching your arm as much as you can to reach the high shelf.

“I mean, your track record precedes you, Y/N. You’ve said for three weeks now you’re going to introduce yourself and the universe has given you every opportunity possible,” she references the several hallway and elevator encounters you’ve told her about. “but, instead of hearing about a meet cute to an epic love story each week, all I get are stories of why you couldn’t say more than a garbled hi to him before darting into your apartment.”

Finally reaching the shelf, you huff both in response to her statement and the large reach you just accomplished.

After moving in to your new apartment a month and a half ago, you learned on your second day here that your neighbor directly across the hall from you is the most attractive guy you’ve ever met.

You ran into him while carrying a few boxes up to your new space, almost plowing him over while stepping out of the elevator because of your blocked field of view from the stack of boxes.

You apologized profusely, your line of sight still blocked, telling the stranger you know you shouldn’t be carrying this many boxes at once, but you really didn’t want to make another trip down and up. You made a bad joke about deciding to test out your sonar detection incase your eye sight ever left, and gave a few low, drawn-out beeps resembling those you’ve heard on TV.

When you heard the deep chuckle from the other side of the boxes, you turned yourself sideways to see who you almost ran over.

The man standing before you was simply the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life. His dark, incredibly soft looking hair matched his dark brown eyes perfectly. The light dusting of facial hair covering his face was definitely working in his favor. The smile on his face was really what made your cheeks heat, though.

Feeling the embarrassment of your terrible joke creep up your neck, you slipped out one more sorry and then all but sprinted to your (thankfully) unlocked door, not even offering your name.

It was that night you told Mia about the handsome stranger, vowing that you were going to redeem yourself one of these days.

Since then, you’ve ran into him what seems like every other day, but never could find the brain power to actually speak to him. It’s either the cliché of both of you leaving your apartment at the same time, or you both end up in the elevator together in complete silence due to your avoidance of uttering anything embarrassing in the confined space. There was one time you unknowingly parked your car beside of his, the two of you walking together the entire way up from the garage to your floor with only a small hi and a wave from you, because you pretended to be listening to your headphones in order to avoid awkward small talk.

“Well, I was never ready all of those times,” you rotate your shoulder in a few circles, trying to work out the small sting you caused. “This time I’m ready. I can feel it.”

“If I was the one living next to him I’d be feeling something alright,” Mia quips back in a suggestive tone, leading you to scoff at her raunchy joke.

“Mia, I’m being serious. I think today’s the day. It’s Tuesday, so I’m pretty sure he should be getting back from the gym around three, which means if I go down to the lobby and pretend to be getting back from a walk around that time I’ll have the perfect in,” you confide your plan in her, having thought about your strategy since last night.

“You are being so insane right now, can you even hear yourself? Just go knock on his door and ask to borrow sugar or something. Then, when he asks what you’re cooking, invite him over for dinner and BAM! a date you didn’t even have to try for,” she suggests.

“Mia, that sounds like the start to a bad porno, I’m not doing that,” you refuse her suggestion right as you hear several loud voices coming from the hallway outside of your door.

Walking over to look into the small peephole, you see not only your attractive neighbor, but several other insanely good looking-men standing outside of his door. You look down at the watch on your wrist, noticing it’s only two, confused as to why he’s home right now.

You can hear Mia chattering away in your ear, but you have no clue what she’s saying, your brain too focused on the men in your hallway.

“Mia, shut up. He’s home,” you interrupt your best friend, causing her to pause momentarily.

“What do you mean he’s home? Did you not just tell me he would be home at three?” she asks you.

“I mean, that’s how it’s been every Tuesday until now. But he’s home. And he has…friends over,” you whisper, worried that if you can hear them they can hear you.

“Friends? Like, other guys? Or does he have a bunch of girls over? Y/N, if he has a bunch of girls at his apartment right now maybe this isn’t the kind of guy you want to go after. Seems like he can’t make up his mind. Or maybe he’s trying to be the next Hugh Heffner and is holding auditions out of his apartment,” you listen to her ramble. “And if that’s true you definitely don’t want to involve yourself with all that. I mean, can you imagine-“

“Mia, so help me God if you don’t shut the fuck up right now I’ll hang up on you,” you snap out, not enjoying her wandering mind.

Watching the men on the other side of your door laugh and converse has you even more curious. You’ve wondered since you moved in what he does for work. The hours he comes and goes are often inconsistent and don’t line up with any job you know of. He never seems to have the same days off, and sometimes you even go several days without seeing any sign of him.

You’ve wondered if he was a doctor, because it would explain the late nights and odd hours, but you’ve never seen him wearing scrubs, all of the men in the hallway currently sporting athletic wear. You thought maybe he was a lawyer, because you see him wearing suits pretty often, but he never carries a briefcase or anything else to prove your theory. You’ve even contemplated that he owns his own company, seeing as he seems to work when he wants and would explain the random down time in the middle of week days.

Of course, you understand you also have a lot of free time during the week, but you have a typical, nine to five office job, you just haven’t started at your new branch yet. Which is partially to blame for the new found obsession with your new neighbor’s whereabouts. You have way too much free time on your hands.

“Damn, someone’s grumpy today. It’s all that pent up frustration from not talking to mystery man. Just go outside and say hi already. Or is today really not the day?”

Even though she can’t see you, you roll your eyes at your friend’s words.

She’s teased you endlessly about this since the second you mentioned him to her. She’s even made a tally of how many times you’ve claimed you were going to speak to him and then didn’t (13 times to be exact). You know she’s just poking fun, but you also know she won’t stop doubting you until you actually do it.

It’s this that prompts you to tell her “You know what, fuck it. Today is the day,” and open your door.

The voices in the hallway stop, all four heads turning to look at you.

Your phone is still being held to your ear with one hand, while the other hangs down at your side.

Your neighbor, standing in the middle of the group, gives you a warm smile, taking in your appearance.

When you look down at your stained t-shirt and your neon pink pajama pants, you mentally palm your forehead, not even thinking to change before making your grand gesture.

Looking back up at the group, heat rising up your neck and to your cheeks, you freeze, the simple “Hi” lost on your tongue.

With furrowed brows and a tilted head, your neighbor speaks out a soft, “Hey there, you okay?”

You nod your head a little too aggressively and manage to squeak out a ‘Fine! Peachy! Never been better!” before slamming your door.

Turning and leaning against the cool door, you close your eyes and try to block out the memory of what just happened.

“Girl…I don’t know what just happened, but that didn’t sound like a hi,” Mia speaks from the phone, startling you, having completely forgotten you were on the phone.

“Abort mission, I repeat, abort mission,” you shake your head no.

“What? Abort mission? All you were doing was introducing yourself to your neighbor? Just go back out there and try again,” she suggests, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“Yeah, and he’s too attractive. I can never speak to him again. Plan be damned, I’m going to have to move apartments again,” you whine out to her, letting the dramatics take over.

“Oh shut up, it’s not that bad. I’m sure he’s already back to talking about whatever with his friends. He’s probably not even going to remember it by the next time you see him,” she refuses to play into your drama. “Plus, you’re a catch. I’m sure he’s been as curious about you as you are about him. Sometimes the silent treatment works wonders.”

A knock on the door you’re leaning against startles you, causing you to jump away from it as if it’d burned you.

“Mia, someone’s knocking,” you whisper, looking out of the peep hole to see your neighbor’s smiling face looking back at you.

You let out a small yelp, jumping back again while covering your mouth with your hand, knowing it’s likely he just heard you.

“Mia it’s him. He’s literally knocking on my door, what do I do?” you ask he as he knocks again.

“Oh my god, you dumbass, answer it! This is your in!” she exclaims through the speaker.

“I can’t answer it! I’m wearing a ridiculous outfit! And I just opened and slammed my door in his face like a freak. Plus-“ you’re cut off by a muffled voice.

“You alright in there? I know you’re standing at the door, I can hear your voice. I just want to make sure you’re okay and didn’t need anything. Sorry if we startled you,” his accented voice carries through the thin door.

“I’m hanging up now, go talk to your man,” Mia chuckles and hangs up the phone, leaving you on your own to deal with the situation before you.

Cursing her, you bring your phone away from your face and wipe your hands on your fluffy pants.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry about that,” you speak through the door.

“You know, if you open the door I won’t bite,” your neighbor jokes, causing another wave of embarrassment to settle in your stomach, not knowing why you decided that talking to him through the door was a normal thing to do.

Taking a step towards the door, you reach for the handle and open it. You’re greeted with the handsome stranger standing not even a foot from your door, no sign of his friends.

He gives you an amused, but warm smile.

“See? It’s just little old me out here,” he brings his hands up in a surrender pose.

You give him a nervous laugh.

Observing his athletic attire, you admire the poorly hidden muscles peeking out from under his compression shirt. The sight makes your cheeks tinge red once again.

When he senses you’re not going to speak, he breaks the silence instead.

“So, you sure you’re okay? You seemed a little…frazzled a few minutes ago. Wanted to make sure we didn’t scare you or anything,” he starts. “I imagine four large hockey players standing outside of your door might seem a little intimidating to a single woman living alone,” he brings his hands down from his face, sticking them in the pockets of his athletic pants.

You wonder if the surprise is evident on your face. In all the time you’ve spent brainstorming about his career, hockey never crossed your mind. You knew your new city had a huge hockey following, but you never thought you were living across from one of the sports’ players.

Realizing you still haven’t said anything, you clear your dry throat.

“Oh, no, you guys didn’t scare me. I just…I don’t know why I opened the door, to be honest. Guess I had a major brain fog moment or something,” you lie, hoping he buys your lame explanation.

The man standing in front of you lets out a small laugh, shaking his head slightly.

“Well, as long as we didn’t scare you, I guess we’re alright then.”

“Yup, we’re good,” you pop the ‘p’, rocking on your heels slightly, needing to channel your nervous energy somehow.

You expect this to be the end of the conversation, but he still stands there, observing you.

“So, do I get to know your name, neighbor?” he questions you, breaking the silence between the two of you for the second time.

His question surprises you slightly, not expecting him to drag the conversation out any longer.

“Well, I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” you hear the words come out of your mouth, with an unintentional flirtatious undertone.

“Nico,” he tells you with a smirk, leaving room for your own reply.

“Y/N,” you move to cross your arms over your chest.

“Since you didn’t protest, I’m guessing you are?” he asks vaguely, causing your brows to furrow in confusion.

“I’m what?”

“Single and living alone,” his smirk only deepens.

Well shit. Is he…flirting with you? While you’re dressed like this? And have only ever made terrible impressions on him before?

“Well, Nico, that depends on why you’re asking,” your mouth is apparently miles ahead of your brain right now, not knowing where this sudden burst of confidence and flirty personality is coming from. “Are you asking because you’re curious about your weird new neighbor, or are you asking because you’re some kind of serial killer that’s stalking his prey?”

This earns a real laugh from him, not just a short chuckle, and you want to melt at the sound.

“I’m asking because I think my new, ‘weird’ neighbor just so happens to be very attractive, but I can tell that she’s far too shy to ever make a move on her own, so I figured I’d help her out a little bit,” he leans forward slightly.

His words make your mouth snap shut and causes you to stand up a little taller, not at all prepared for the conversation to take this direction.

All these weeks of you avoiding Nico, dodging him in the hallway and the elevator, flat out ignoring him from the car garage to your doors, not even being able to say one coherent word to him, and it’s all been pointless? He’s been thinking about you all this time too?

You feel so stupid in this moment. Knowing that he caught you, and knew that you were running from him this whole time makes you squirm, and not in a good way.

Your mind immediately goes back to Mia’s words not only earlier today, but every other time you’ve discussed the man standing before you. Her insistence that you were psyching yourself out for nothing and all you had to do was talk to him echoes through your mind.

“Oh…uh…well…in that case, yeah. I live single. Wait, no, I mean, I’m alone,” you wince, hearing the trainwreck coming out of your mouth. “Okay, I’m just going to shut up now and nod my head,” you shake your head yes, preventing any more jumbled words.

Nico laughs at you once again, clearly amused and not at all repulsed by your awkward nature.

“Well, I live single too. Just incase you were wondering,” he echoes your previous word stumble, shoulders still shaking from laughter.

“Twinsies,” you blurt out, holding your hand out for a high-five.

Before you can make your brain work like a normal, functioning person, Nico slaps his open palm against yours, biting his lip to keep from laughing again.

“I think I’m going to stop while I’m still slightly ahead,” you start, taking a step back into your apartment. “Thanks for checking on me, but clearly I’m lacking any coherent braincells right now, so I think I’m gonna get back to decorating,” you try to end the conversation, not wanting to give yourself anymore embarrassing moments to keep you up at night.

“Wait!” Nico quietly shouts, his face showing it was his turn to be embarrassed, clearly not meaning to have screamed in your face.

You pause the closing of your door, staring at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout. It’s just, do you want to grab dinner sometime? If you’re not interested that’s fine, but I wanted to at least put the offer out there before I don’t get the chance to speak to you again for another month,” he rushes his words a bit.

You’re so shocked you just stand there and stare at him for a solid minute, the braincells you lacked mere minutes ago now bouncing around in your head like a pinball machine.

Nico stands there expectantly, waiting on either an acceptance or rejection.

“Are you sure?” is what you manage to come up with.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Nico huffs out a laugh through his nostrils. “I’ll even do all the talking if you want.”

You knew you were already going to accept, but his offer made you feel slightly warmer inside. Obviously, he’s been victim to your inability to coherently speak during moments like these, but not pressuring you to carry a majority of the conversation and still wanting to spend the time with you despite your nervous habit sealed the deal even further.

Not trusting yourself to not botch your words once again, you nod your head yes, unable to hide the smile that makes its way onto your face.

Nico returns your smile, a triumphant look in his eyes letting you know he was genuinely worried you’d say no.

“Alright. Good. Awesome. Great.” Is all he says, taking a small step back towards his door.

“Well now you sound like me,” you tease, that small bit of confidence making its way back to you.

“Guess you’re rubbing off on me already,” he shrugs. “See you around?” he continues to walk backwards until he meets his closed door, jumping slightly when he runs into the solid material.

You giggle at him, nodding your head yes again, finding his sudden nervousness cute.

“See you around, Nico,” you give a small wave before shutting your door, taking in what just happened.

You unlock the phone still in your hand, clicking on Mia’s contact before bringing it up to your ear.

“Listen I know you’re mad at me, and I probably shouldn’t have hung up on you, but I knew you wouldn’t talk to him if I was on the phone and you needed a push, so really I did you a favor-“

“Mia, today was the day,” you interrupt another one of her rambles, grinning while hearing her screams to spill every detail.

[multifandomgirl08]

The Engagement [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Fiancée!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: He moved his hand over yours, moving the engagement ring that he placed on your finger, side to side.

Warning(s): Fluff

A/N: This was originally on my masterlist months ago and then I took it off because I wasn't happy with it, but after who knows however many months. It's done and I'm happy with it.

Words: 1.4k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

“Hey.” You muttered into Max’s back as he stood on the balcony of the house that you rented out for the last couple of days.

Max didn’t respond, instead just let out a deep breath before you moved your arms up around his middle section.

He moved his hand over yours, moving the engagement ring that he placed on your finger, side to side. It was a weight on your hand that you could definitely get used to.

Max had been outside for a while, looking out into the surf, the glass that was filled with a diluted gin and tonic sitting on the table to his side. You let him have a few moments to himself while you finished up packing the last of your things before you left to go back to Monaco in the morning.

“I’m happy to be going home tomorrow.” He said, turning his head towards you. “I’ve missed Nico.”

Your vacation with Max had been nice, but you also missed the little boy being underfoot all the time when you were all home together.

“I’ve missed him too.” You got up on the tip of your toes and kissed the back of Max’s neck. You could feel his shoulders relax a little more.

“He’ll be excited about the news.” Max said. For a moment you could have sworn you heard Nico’s voice in your head saying, ‘Mimi and Papa are getting married.’

You lightly chuckled, “Be ready for him to come running from the living room when we get home.”

“Yeah, he’ll be a ball of energy until dinner. He’ll be more happy about us getting married than my mum.” He said turning around to pull you close into his arms.

You gave Max a wide smile. In the years you had been dating Max, Sophie had become like a mom to you. She always said that she was a phone call away if you needed someone to talk to, about Max, Nico, or to just be a sympathetic ear. Part of you wondered if she knew about Max proposing to you.

“Does she know about…?” You trailed off, playing with your ring. Max’s eyes went down to your fingers. “Yeah. I showed her the ring just before we left. She sounded happy for me.” Like she approved. You could hear in the silent air.

“Well I’m glad.” Having Sophie’s support was important to you. Max was her only son, and you wanted to make sure that Sophie was okay with you becoming a part of this family.

Max was quick to take your hand in his before moving onto the couch, pulling you into his lap. You both stayed there for a while. Max taking a sip of his watered down gin and tonic before you both went back inside the villa to help him pack the last of the bags and go to sleep for the night. You had a mid-day flight to catch before you would be back in Monaco with Max by your side, and you couldn’t wait to share the happy news with Nico and Sophie.

24 hours before

You and Max were on vacation in The Bahamas and had been locked away sleeping in until the early hours of the afternoon and spending time on the beach when the sun was no longer at its highest point in the sky. Max even had something that resembled a tan instead of his normal almost shell pink color. It was nice being able to spend time with Max, just the two of you. Nico had stayed with Sophie in Max’s apartment so as to not break his schedule while you were gone.

You had missed Nico being Max’s little shadow, however, it was nice to have Max all to yourself for more than a few hours in the evening.

It was your second to last day before you would be going back home. Max had pulled you out of bed at noon for brunch, you hung out on the beach for a bit before going back to the house, showered, took a short nap, and then he told you to get dressed as he had arranged dinner plans.

You had gotten quite the surprise when you and Max had taken a walk to the beach below to see a table set up for two. The private chef that was hired during your stay had made you food. It felt a little unreal, that you got to slow dance in the surf with Max before desert came.

Max led you back to the table where you had managed to take a few bites of the desert, the sand still stuck between your toes. Max wasn’t eating any of it though. He reached over and placed his hand over yours.

“Y/N,” He breathed out. You let your eyes meet his, his hand was slightly shaking before you saw him get up from his seat and drop down to one knee. Max reached down into the pocket of the loose navy pants that he was wearing to see him pull out a dark blue box. Max seemed like he was slightly stumbling to open the box but you just looked at him, seeing the determined look on his face. He was so serious about this with his brows slightly furrowed as he tried to open the box.

God, did you love him.

He pulled the lid open on both sides, revealing the ring. It was a little unreal seeing it after all of the conversations that you and Max had about your future together. When did Max have time to go get a ring?

Max looked up at you, his eyes steel blue as he held your gaze, “Y/N,” He started again. “I’ve loved you for a long time. Of course, being able to spend these last few years with you has meant everything to me. You being able to accept Nico as your own. Loving me, just me. Max.” He said putting a hand up to his chest.

“Without everything else that may come with that.” You knew that there were some less-than-stellar parts of Max’s life.

“I can’t imagine a life without you in it. I know that Nico and I would be lucky to have you as part of our family. I’m asking if you will marry me?” Max wasn’t looking at you, as if he was afraid of your answer.

You nodded yes at his words, “Yes, Max.” 

“Are you sure?” He asked looking up at you. You could see the hope flooding his eyes.

“I’m sure.” You said with a final nod.

Max placed the box on the table before reaching for you. He pressed his lips to yours, his hands moving into your hair, drawing you closer to him.

You pulled away slightly, barely coming up for air.

“I wanted to get it right,” Max muttered, the nervousness slipping away from his tone. “I wanted you to know how much you mean to me.” Max dropped his forehead to yours loving how happy he sounded. “Of course, I chose now. How can I not when you look so gorgeous.”

You couldn’t help the blush that spread over your cheeks. How did he get away with saying things like that?

Max moved back just a step before pulling you out of your chair and onto your feet. He took the ring out of the navy box before sliding it onto your finger. It looked beautiful, like it was meant for you.

“Do you like it?” He asked, looking down at your hand.

“It looks perfect.” You brightly replied.

“You deserve the best,” Max said into your ear.

You put your arms around Max’s neck before looking to meet his eyes. “You’re the best thing that could happen to me. You and Nico.”

“Ik houd van jou, mijn leeuwin.” He said.

“I love you too, Max.” You said back as you and Max walked through the sand with your hands interlocked. You could feel him playing with the band of the ring as you and Max slowly walked back to the house, your hands clasped together. He had pulled you into his arms once you were back in the living room lying against each other. You ended up going to bed late, Max kissing the band of your ring and placing your hand on his chest.

You didn’t get up until the late hours of the morning, and even had to pull yourself away from him as he held you against his chest.

Translations:

Ik houd van jou - I love you

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen, @shelbyteller , @geniusalpaca

[meangirls-imagines]

Savior

Description: Leighton meets reader in her math class and is instantly smitten. However, as weeks go on, Leighton sees that the reader's kindness is getting taken advantage of, causing her girl to burn out. Leighton takes matters into her own hands.

WARNINGS: frat guys being dicks, leighton being protective, reader being a smol bean, exhaustion.

leighton murray was about to lose her shit.

in her defense, it's definitely deserved. 

and it all has to do with her crush, y/n y/l/n.

y/n  was the sweetest person leighton had ever met. she always said hi to everyone she came across, was always open to listen to anyone's problems, gave great hugs. she even went the extra mile to do people's homework if they needed. her and leighton were in the same math class and got partnered up on a project. 

leighton didn't know why but the second she met y/n, she instantly felt a connection to the girl. luckily the two hit it off and had been hanging out ever since. in the short time leighton had been friends with the girl, she had noticed something. 

there was a guy in their math class named josh. he was in theta with nico so that's how leighton knew him. she always felt like he was a sleaze ball because he thought he was hot shit. she had noticed over the past week that y/n's homework load seemed to double. and josh seemed to be at every party that leighton and her roommates had gone to that week.

she had tried to get it out of y/n, but the girl just shook it off. leighton was beginning to get frustrated, seeing y/n basically crumble before her eyes. she had to do some more digging.

josh matthews was about to meet his demise and he didn't even know it. 

leighton didn't want to expose him at the theta party she was currently at, but after a text from jocelyn with a picture of y/n knocked out at a table, she had enough. 

luckily for her, nico still had connections at theta and told her who the president and vice president of the frat were very quickly and her plan was set in motion.

she had talked to both guys in the president's bedroom, leighton providing all the evidence she had on josh not doing his homework. from pictures of him either sleeping in class to pictures of his laptop on netflix during class and pictures of y/n's work (that leighton had taken when the girl wasn't paying attention), showing josh's name written in the corner of one paper and y/n's in the other.

the president and vp took in the evidence, thanking leighton and reassuring her it wouldn't continue or happen again. the blonde thanked them, and rushed downstairs to tell her roommates she was leaving. 

she had an adorable nerd to take care of.

leighton made the usual 15 minute walk to the library from theta in 12. she scanned her student id and made her way into the building. she found jocelyn who pointed her in the direction of the sleeping girl. leighton's heart broke and melted at the same time.

y/n was asleep on her math textbook, papers surrounding her. leighton got a good look at the girl's face, seeing how the weeks of double work had caught up to her. she carefully got all of y/n's things together, sliding them in the girl's backpack, shouldering it, before waking up the sleeping girl.

y/n groaned as she opened her eyes, seeing leighton in front of her. she sleepily smiled, feeling groggy. "hi leighton, what are you doing here?" the blonde smiled at the girl, gently helping her up. "i'm taking care of you. now come on, we're going back to my dorm."

 leighton guided the girl back to her dorm, occasionally supporting the girl's weight as she sleepily strolled next to leighton. once the two made it back to the dorm, leighton gave her some of her pjs to change into, allowing the girl privacy as she went out to the common room to shoot a text to her roommates. 

when leighton went back into her room, y/n was already halfway back to sleep in leighton's bed. the blonde smiled and changed before sliding into bed next to y/n, pulling the girl into her chest. y/n sighed happily and snuggled closer to leighton. "leight?" the blonde hummed, beginning to run her fingers through y/n's hair. 

"i really like you. a lot. do you wanna go out?" leighton giggled. "let's get you rested up and then we'll talk about it, okay?" the girl nodded and allowed the grasps of sleep to take her, feeling leighton gently kiss her on the forehead.

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 22 - This Was Not the Spa I was Looking For

Uuuhhh, I don't even know what this was. I had an idea and then this other idea fought the first one and won? so, it's completely different than what I had in mind, but ya know what? its written and done.

There is slight SLIGHT angst, but everything is good in the end :)

so sorry for the delay - will be updating a lot this weekend!

like always comments, questions, concerns, messages in my inbox, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated! Love you all and enjoy :D

Budapest Not Included

Champions Standings 

Max Verstappen – 284 points 

Charles Leclerc – 227 points 

Lando Norris – 189 points 

Y/n L/n – 163 points 

Carlos Sainz – 112 points 

Oscar Piastri – 91 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 83 points 

Alex Albon – 44 points 

Fernando Alonso – 41 points 

George Russell – 40 points 

Logan Sargeant – 30 points 

Daniel Ricciardo – 23 points

Lance Stroll – 15 points 

Pierre Gasly – 12 points 

Yuki Tsunoda – 8 points 

Valtteri Bottas – 1 point 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Kevin Magnussen 

Zhou Guanyu 

Esteban Ocon 

Constructors Standings 

Red Bull – 447 points 

Ferrari – 339 points 

McLaren – 280 points 

Mercedes – 123 points 

Williams – 74 points 

Aston Martin – 56 points 

Alpha Tauri – 31 points 

Alpine – 12 points 

Alpha Romeo – 1 point 

HAAS – 0 points 

f1 has posted

f1 Y/n L/n and Max Verstappen are out of the Belgium Grand Prix after the Red Bull of Verstappen hit the back of L/n. The latter skidded across the track before rolling over. L/n will be looked over at the medical site, especially after her last DNF back in Japan.

liked by y/n.nation, maxverSTOPpen, orange_army, and 802,394 others

max_and_rookie nah man, I like max but that was seriously his fault

y/n_on_top y/n had the priority to make way for him to win. he just ruined both of their races

max_all_the_way y/n should have just let him keep going tho?

redbullcan no she shouldn't cause Red Bull gave the 2-1 strategy, putting priority for the second car

maxiel333 I fear this is Azerbaijan 2018 all over again

f1fan well there goes that amazing teammate bond. great job max, what is this, 7 teammates? bout to be 8

Once again, you were hanging upside down, in the rain. But thankfully, this time you were conscious and talking. 

You pressed the button that immediately went to your panicking race engineer. 

“I’m fine Mitch. Stupid rain. This was definitely not the Spa I was looking forward to. You tell my asshole of a teammate that he owes me.” 

You switched your radio off before Mitch could reply. You were fuming as the marshals were trying to get you out once again. Your race suit was becoming wetter and wetter by the minute. Your back ached as you tried to move. 

So, how did this all happen? 

You had been able to get around Max, per team request to make way on the track that was a little less rainy. Apparently, Max thought that you were trying to get the jump on him and completely rammed the back of your RB20, sending you flying. It was definitely a mirror reflection of Azerbaijan 2018. 

How you ended up rolled over once again, you didn’t know. Maybe your car just didn’t have great balance when it came to kerbs and getting rear-ended. 

In a few minutes, the marshals were able to get you out. As you stretched when you got out, your eyes landed on Max’s RB20 with its nose crumpled and wheel hanging off. You smirked under your helmet. 

“Serves him right.” 

You two were doing amazing that weekend. Max had gotten pole once again, and you were right behind him. Except that Charles was so close behind Max most of the race. Mitch had given you the 2-1 and had told you that GP had also given the Dutchman the same order. 

There was still time for you to have given the position back, but you were quicker on the slicks. You could have easily brought home another 1-2 race. 

But now Charles would probably get his third win of the season because Max was too selfish. 

You watched as he climbed out of his own cockpit and your blood began to boil. He not only ruined his race, but yours as well. Your arms were crossed as you stood in the rain. Replays of the wreck were playing on the big screens, just for your enjoyment. 

The longer you watched, the angrier you got. 

A push to your arm brought your eyes from the big screen to the Dutch driver. 

“The fuck was that?” he angrily questioned. 

Your eyebrow raised under your helmet. Although you were shorter, you knew how to throw your weight around. So, you shoved his shoulder back. 

“Me? The fuck was that with you Max. I was given priority! This was your fault!” you shouted, earning looks from the marshals around the two of you. 

Max just glared. “My fault? That was clearly a rookie mistake.” 

He pushed you again. 

You let out a dark chuckle. “Rookie mistake? No Max. That was a you mistake.” 

Your pointer finger dug into his chest, earning you another shove. One that sent you to the ground. You were now down, looking up at Max as he glared down at you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you watched him stalk away. 

A marshal was quick to help you to your feet. Max didn’t ride back with you to the paddock and walked the entire way. You, however, took advantage of the ride back and immediately tried to hide inside your drivers room when you got back. You kept your helmet on the entire time and wanted to refuse to go to the medical room. Mitch was adamant about you going since the last time you were bruised pretty badly. 

She made sure it was quick: just a check over. After, your race engineer left you to yourself. While you undressed and peeled off your wet race suit, your mind started swimming. 

Feelings of guilt and anxiety were building in your core. Soon, you were beginning to sob as you sat on your little bed. Really, all you wanted to do was curl up and sleep, preferably with your boyfriend, who was all the way in the Ferrari garage. 

Your sobs quieted down as your eyes began to droop. Taking a nap right now seemed to be a good choice as you lied down on the small bed, curling up in a ball. A nap would keep you safe from whatever was going on. You didn’t have to deal with anything if you were asleep. 

Right as you were falling asleep, Max had just gotten back to the garage. His helmet was in his hands and his eyes were to the floor, missing the disapproving looks from everyone. On the way back, he had time to think about what he had done. 

Yes, he knew that you were given priority, but didn’t know exactly why. You didn’t seem faster on the slicks or were gaining. He didn’t expect you to go around him like that. And now looking back, he could see that you were making a way for him by getting rid of some water on the track so he could get more grip. 

What he didn’t expect was a shove to the back and a punch to the face. He barely had time to turn around before he landed on his ass on the concrete of the garage. He was so taken back that he really couldn’t understand what was going on. 

All he knew was that his face hurt, his ass hurt, and his pride hurt. 

How could he have done that to you? 

When he got his bearings, he finally saw a certain Monegasque be held back from jumping on him. Spits of French and English were thrown at him, and he deserved it. Once he was back on his feet, Arthur took two handfuls of his race suit and pulled him down. 

There was hardly a height difference, but right now Arthur looked a lot bigger than Max did. 

Arthur leaned close to Max’s face. 

“How dare you? You know that she would do anything for you and what do you do to thank her? You push her down. You break her down. You blame her for your mistake.”

Silence was all that Max could offer. 

Arthur scoffed as he let go. 

“You’re no better than her parents.” 

With that, he left and walked toward your room. He harshly pushed the door open, only to find you sound asleep, oblivious to the world outside. Arthur turned off the lights before gently climbing into your bed. He didn’t know how the two of you had fit, but you did. 

He guessed that you must have sensed him as you turned over and dug your head into his neck almost immediately. Arthur pulled out his phone before googling flights back to Monaco, back to home. He’d keep you in his pocket if he had anything to do it. 

Race Results: 

Charles Leclerc – 25 points 

Carlos Sainz – 18 points 

Oscar Piastri – 16 points (fastest lap) 

Valtteri Bottas – 12 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 10 points 

George Russell – 8 points 

Fernando Alonso – 6 points 

Alex Albon – 4 points 

Logan Sargeant – 2 point 

Zhou Guanyu – 1 point (highest placing this season) 

Lando Norris (spun out on last lap and barely missed the points) 

Daniel Ricciardo 

Yuki Tsunoda 

Kevin Magnussen (highest placing this season)

Nico Hulkenberg (highest placing this season) 

Pierre Gasly 

Esteban Ocon 

Lance Stroll 

Y/n L/n – DNF 

Max Verstappen – DNF 

Champions Standings: 

Max Verstappen – 284 points

Charles Leclerc – 252 points 

Lando Norris – 189 points 

Y/n L/n – 163 points 

Carlos Sainz – 130 points 

Oscar Piastri – 107 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 93 points 

George Russell – 48 points 

Alex Albon – 48 points 

Fernando Alonso – 45 points 

Logan Sargeant – 32 points 

Daniel Ricciardo – 23 points 

Lance Stroll – 15 points 

Pierre Gasly - 12 points 

Valtteri Bottas – 13 points 

Yuki Tsunoda – 8 points

Zhou Guanyu – 1 point 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Kevin Magnussen 

Esteban Ocon 

Constructors Standings

Red Bull – 447 points 

Ferrari – 382 points 

McLaren – 270 points 

Mercedes – 141 points 

Williams – 80 points 

Aston Martin – 60 points 

Alpha Tauri – 31 points 

Alpha Romeo – 14 points 

Alpine – 12 points 

Haas – 0 points 

Max had gotten a long talking to after everything was over. Christian probably screamed at him for over an hour, plus what GP and then what Mitch had to say after. He had wanted to apologize beforehand, but it seemed as though Arthur didn’t wat Max near you within a 25 foot radius. 

And when the Dutchman thought he could speak to you at the hotel, he had to find out the hard way that you had left that afternoon to go back to Monaco before the second Italian Grand Prix. Max huffed as he thought over what he should do. 

Just as you had anxiety and guilt about the incident, Max dubbed his as 10 times worse. This was it. In the past, everyone told him that he always messed up teammates for other drivers. That’s why Daniil didn’t work out, or Carlos, or Daniel, or Pierre, or Alex, or Checo. One way or another, Max always fucked it up. 

Well, that’s what his mind was telling him. 

And he didn’t want you to just be another name to the list. 

So with phone in hand, and pilot on call, he made the executive decision to fly back to Monaco. He knew exactly where your apartment was, since you gave me the address when you first moved in and a key for emergencies. 

When he landed, he went straight to the grocery store. Knowing that you had the cooking skills of Arthur and Charles combined and the pickiness of Lando amplified, he guessed that you and Arthur probably haven’t had dinner yet. So, he grabbed ingredients to make pizza. Simple enough. 

He drove to your flat and was suddenly enveloped with fear. He hit his head on the steering wheel once he parked. 

“I’m so stupid,” he whispered to himself as he gazed at the lights on in the windows. His head was still on the wheel as he turned to look down. What he failed to notice was you looking through the window. 

“Cheri? Is everything alright?” you heard Arthur call out from the kitchen. You two had just burnt some pasta while trying to make dinner. You gazed down at the familiar car parked in front. 

“Cheri?” 

Now Arthur was close, also looking out the window. 

“It’s Max.” 

The Monegasque scoffed. “What’s he doing here?” 

You hummed. “He’s probably wanting to apologize. I know what he’s like. Thur, he didn’t mean it.” 

Arthur’s eyes changed from cold to understanding. He had heard enough stories from his own brother along with gossip in the paddock about Max’s childhood (or lack thereof). 

He huffed once before saying, “Go to him and then invite him up.” 

He watched as your eyes lit up, before you placed a kiss on his lips. A smile formed on his lips as he watched you slide shoes on and go out the door. Arthur turned back to the kitchen. He guessed he needed to clean up before you invited thee Max Verstappen into the house. 

Max was so caught in his head that he missed you peering in. Only when you slightly knocked on the door, did he jump. He accidentally pressed the horn, making it echo down the empty road. He quickly unlocked the door, which let you slip in. 

His blue eyes gazed into yours before he started to cry. You looked at him with a frown on your face as he tried to desperately wipe his tears. He took many harsh inhales, trying to get his emotions under control. 

Max expected you to yell, scream, and hit at him. Yet, you gently placed a hand on his back and started to comfort him, like he’s done many times before. 

You let him cry and cry until he was ready to talk. 

“I’m such an asshole,” was the first thing that escaped his lips after his sobs started to break. 

You chuckled. “I could have told you that.” 

Max’s lips curved upwards in a small smile before going straight once again. He took another shuddering breath before continuing. 

“I don’t want to repeat the past. I am so sorry for what I did to you, that was unfair of me. I wanted to apologize before you left, but I was too late. And I didn’t want to end today without apologizing to you. Because I don’t want you to be another teammate that I failed.” 

He turned to you, eyes still glossy with leftover tears. 

You leaned to give him a hug across the dash, one that he was thankful for. 

He was the first one to part, still wiping at his eyes. You only gazed at him with compassion. When he was done sniffling, you started to talk. 

“Max, look at me please?” 

He turned his head so his bloodshot blue eyes could look at you. He looked utterly exhausted and your heart broke. If he was anything like you, you knew how much guilt he was carrying. 

“You’re not, we’re not, going to repeat the past. I just need you to understand that I am your team player. And when I’m given a team order, I will follow it every time.” 

Max’s head nodded in agreement. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“I already forgave you before I left the paddock. I heard Christian yelling at you.” 

A snort left his nose. “It was probably for the best.” 

The car was filled with a comfortable silence before Max broke it. 

“Did you and Arthur have dinner yet?” 

“Max. What do you think?” 

“I’m going to take that as a no. Good think I bought groceries. Seriously, I am getting you and the Leclercs cooking lessons for Christmas.” 

“I’m not that bad.” 

“You almost burnt down my entire kitchen.” 

“Not on purpose.”  

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 have pizza, teammate, and bestie - will travel

liked by maxverstappen1, arthur_leclerc, logansargeant, and 90,294 others

y/n&co guys I was super worried but now I'm perfectly fine

rookie+maxie guys I truly believe that y/n is going to stay his teammate for as long as possible

best_duo frfr - no one has been on his level and he finally has a teammate that can keep up with him

y/n.nation generational talent right there

maxverstappen1 glad I could feed you two

y/n.89 we would have been fine on our own maxverstappen1 sure, after you burnt your food and almost set your apartment on fire y/n.89 hey, Arthur was there too? arthur_leclerc what is with this slander?????

f1_fan guys guys guys, it's the Dutch Grand Prix and then MONZA hello?????

true_tifosi I know I want to see Charles win again, but y/n deserves something

dutch_anthem_on_repeat time for MAX MAX MAX SUPER MAX

orange_army we are ready with flags and capes, bring it on Netherlands!!

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri

[chukys-mouthguard]

Oasis

Word count: 2.4k

Pairing: nico hischier x female reader

Genre: heavy fluff, smut

Warning: sexual content, 18+ readers only

Note: not me becoming a nico girl after writing this 👀🙈

The front door to Nico’s house opening slowly as he’d taken what seemed like forever to unlock it. A nervous smile on his face as he led you inside. Soon the room coming into view as he stepped aside.

Flower petals scattered across the floor, tea lights all around, illuminating and setting the scene for what was continuing an already romantic evening for the two of you.

Nico had surprised you with a date night to your favorite restaurant on the water. Plenty of wine while he advised you to order anything and everything you’d wanted. When asking what the special occasion was, he responded “a man doesn’t need a special occasion to spoil his girl”. Which earned quite the blush from you, and certainly made your heart skip a beat.

The two of you had been together for a little over a year now and things seemed to only get better and better. Nico quite the romantic, always trying his best to make up for his schedule that can often prove difficult when it came to making time for you.

You told him that elaborate dates and gifts weren’t necessary, because you knew what you were signing up for when you started dating, but this was Nico. He loved to spoil you, treat you to the finest things in life. It was what made him happy; never asking for a thing in return, because that wasn’t why he did it.

So now here you were, in the entryway of his house, rose petals and tea lights setting the mood. Your face luckily already permanently blushed from the multiple glasses of wine you’d had at dinner. A smile stuck on Nico’s face as he tried to gauge your feelings, not sure if you were excited or nervous, or both.

“Do you, do you like it?”

The nervousness in his voice making you slightly giggle, a hand caressing his cheek as you kissed his lips. “Of course! I love it baby! But you know you don’t have to do all this for me!”

He took your hand as he pulled you further inside, letting you see that the roses continued up the winding staircase, surely creating a path all the way to his room. “I know, I just, it’s been hard lately with the season getting so crazy. I just want to be sure I take time when I can to do little things like this to show you how much I love and appreciate you.”

His thumb brushing over your cheek as he traced your smile. “Well, this doesn’t seem like a little thing. This is a lot of work!” He giggled as he looked around the room. “Yeah, and I’m sure you’d never believe me when I say Jack helped.”

“Jack Hughes did all of this? I am thoroughly impressed!”

Nico pulled you into his chest as he placed a kiss on your lips, his hands holding tight to your cheeks as he deepened the kiss. “Well, hold your critiques, cause there’s more!”

His voice practically a whisper as his lips brushed over yours with each of his words. His fingers tangling with yours as he led you up the stairs. Giving you a reassuring squeeze of your hand as the two of you reached the top, then unexpectedly pulling you towards the bathroom.

No surprise the bathroom was fully lit with tealights, rose petals everywhere, and a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket accompanied with 2 glasses.

“Okay, now I’m definitely impressed by the work of Jack.”

Nico was thankful his teammate could pull through and make his vision come to life. The nerves and stress now worth it to see your reaction and the smile on your face.

“So then, what’s on the agenda?”

Playfully running your fingers over the buttons of his dress shirt you smirked, knowing Nico probably had been thinking about this all night long. Explaining his nervous shaky hand when holding his wine glass at dinner. Or the way he’d been subconsciously bouncing his knee in the car while driving home.

Though now he seemed more relaxed, things clearly going according to his plan.

“I thought we could cap off the night with a nice bubble bath, enjoy some champagne. As if we didn’t drink enough at dinner. And then just relax, talk, I feel like we hadn’t had a night to do that in awhile.

Just relaxing and talking seemed hard to believe with the elaborate set up Nico had curated. But, you weren’t going to spoil what he had in mind.

While you left to discard of your dress you’d worn to dinner, Nico drew the bath. Making sure to put extra emphasis on the bubbles for you. He then lost his own clothes before climbing in to get comfortable as he waited for you.

As you re-entered the bathroom, your hair now up in a messy bun and all that covered you a robe. A smile immediately on Nico’s face as his eyes met yours. He’d seen you naked plenty of times, but this moment felt different. Almost like he should look away to give you privacy as you joined him among the bubbles.

“What’s the matter Nico, boobs make you nervous?”

Your feet playfully rubbing his leg as you got comfortable in the water. “All boobs? No. Your boobs? Yes ma’am.”

Nico opened the champagne, handing you a glass before toasting to the two of you.

“This is nice. I feel we really needed a night like this. The season has just been, tough to put it plainly.”

Nodding your head as you sipped from your glass you couldn’t agree more. This season compared to last year, just seemed different. Tougher, more taxing, on both you and Nico. But you’d been there by his side through all the ups and downs.

“I know, I feel like it’s been tougher on you than me of course. But, we’ve definitely been through the ringer this year.” An expression of you can say that again plastered across his face as you could see him reflecting on it all.

“I mean, yeah I’m the one out on the ice. But you’re the one I come home to at the end of the day. The one who massages me or gets me ice baths when I can barely walk. The one who cheers me up after a tough loss. Or unfortunately the one who gets the brunt of my anger sometimes when I’m unhappy with a result. Which, you know I’m sorry for every time that’s happened. I hate that I’ve ever taken something out on you.”

Brushing your leg against his as if to reassure him, you shrugged it off. “It’s okay, I don’t take it personal. Sometimes you just have to blow off steam. I get it. Plus, it doesn’t happen often. So every now and then I can manage.”

“Well still, I am going to be better about that. I feel like you’re so good at always taking care of me, and sometimes I don’t always return the same things.”

Nico motioned for your hand to pull you to his side of the bath, positioning you in front of him. Your back against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. Peppering your neck with kisses as his legs entangled with yours.

“I love you so much baby.”

A soft moan escaping your lips as his words nothing above a whisper against your ear. Sending tingles down your spine as you smiled. “I love you more Nico.”

One of his hands abandoning your waist as it trailed up your body to tilt your chin towards him, his lips devouring yours in a kiss. The taste of desire and champagne on his lips as his other hand explored your body under the water. First making a point to give attention to your breasts, Nico wanting to get his hands on them since you got into the water. Loving how the bubbles tastefully hid them from his gaze.

Your tongues fought for dominance as his hand now moved south, his fingers tracing the curves of your skin before his legs helped to spread yours. Giving him access to your core.

“Nico.”

A breath moan of his name leaving your lips as your head fell back against his shoulder.

“It’s my turn to take care of you baby.”

His tone was dominant, but reassuring. The idea of Nico in control turning you on even more. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d be the one to take charge, usually it was you in control as you took care of him after a tough game. Which you very much enjoyed. But you weren’t going to turn down the opportunity to see Nico in his element.

Nico’s favorite thing was taking control, making sure he pleasured you to your maximum. Never wanting to leave you wanting more.

You could feel him growing hard behind you as his fingers dipped into you, feeling how wet you were for him. A smirk plastered on his lips as he loved knowing that he did that to you. Trying to grind yourself against him, his other arm dropping to grab hold of your waist.

“No no, I’m taking care of you, remember? Don’t worry about me.”

A slight whine coming from you, Nico knew that was always a challenge for you to not reciprocate and try to please him. But he enjoyed being able to tease you and make you squirm by taking away that option for you.

Relaxing in his grip, as you’d surrendered to him having complete control, your eyes slowly shut as his two fingers were working wonders. Nico knowing exactly where to touch you, how to move, what speed you liked. And you were already well on your way to your peak.

“Talk to me baby girl, does that feel good?”

Nodding your head as you bit your lip, nervous to speak as you could feel your breath catching in your throat.

“So fucking good Nico, fuck-“

His fingers quickly pulling out of you as you gasped. Instantly needing his touch back, but he clearly had other plans. A smirk on his lips as he pulled you back in for a kiss.

“Come on baby, I need more of you. But this bath really isn't big enough.”

He climbed out, wrapping a towel around his waist before grabbing another one and helping you from the water. Doing a quick attempt at drying you off, knowing that he wasn’t trying to waste much time on the act. Needing to get you into his bed immediately.

As he finished getting the water from your skin, he picked you up and carried you to his bed, earning a surprised giggle from you in the process.

Gently laying you down he pulled the towel from your body. Beginning to kiss the exposed skin as he moved from your neck down to your core. His eyes flashing up to meet yours, “you’re so fucking beautiful baby.” A shy smile on your lips as your hands tangled in his damp hair. Chills traveling across your body as you felt his breath against your clit.

His fingers dipping back into you, now accompanied by his tongue as it traced your folds between giving sole attention to your clit.

Your legs subconsciously squeezing against Nico, feeling yourself already so close. Back arching off the bed as expletives poured from your lips, fingers pulling at Nico’s hair, earning a low groan from him. He took your reaction as a sign to keep going, not slowing down as your body now slightly shaking beneath him.

“That’s it baby girl, show me how good I make you feel. Cum for me.”

The pace of your breathing rapid as your legs shaked, Nico feeling you tighten around his fingers as you came. His tongue not ceasing as he licked every inch of you clean.

Pulling him up to face you, your lips crashed onto his, tasting yourself on his lips immediately soaking your core once again.

“Mmm, you taste so good baby.”

His hand dropped between you to stroke his cock before he traced your slit, feeling how wet and ready you were. “Can’t get enough of me huh?”

A cocky smirk now on his lips as he saw the need and desperation on your face.

“Please Nico, I need you.”

Your words like magic as that was all he needed, thrusting into you without warning. Both of your moans filling the room as he waited, adjusting to the feeling of you as your fingers gripped at his biceps. Legs wrapping around his waist, needing him deeper, wanting as much of him as you could have.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet for me.”

“Always am.”

Winking at him you pulled his lips to yours by his hair. If he was the one taking control and fucking you tonight, you could at least try and maintain dominance when kissing him.

His pace picking up as his thrusts were strong and hard. Nico needed this, to have his way and fuck you however he needed. But you happily obliged. Lips breaking from the kiss as your head fell back, moans the only thing you can manage as you felt yourself nearing another climax.

“Nico, fuck. Yes, please don’t stop. You feel so fucking good.”

Nico’s thrusts now sloppy, not able to fully keep up his pace as his low grunts let you knew he was close. His hands gripping your hips, surely leaving bruises but you’d worry about that tomorrow. Fingers pulling at the sheets as your back arched from the mattress while he worked you through your high. The quickly pulling his cock from you as he stroked himself through his own. Your chest rapidly rising and falling with sharp breaths, watching as he finished on your stomach with needy moans. Soon collapsing next to you as he tried to catch his breath.

“Fuck, baby….I love you so much.”

Brushing his hair from his face you smiled, “I love you more.”

After a few seconds he stood up, grabbing your towel from earlier to clean you up, before lifting you from the bed.

“Baby! What are you doing?”

“Taking care of you also means aftercare baby, gotta clean you up.”

He kissed your lips as he carried you back into the bathroom, his eyes falling on the tub still filled with bubbles and a champagne bottle that must’ve gotten knocked in during your fun earlier.

“Maybe we opt for a shower?”

[pucktoxicity]

do you have any luke hughes tea ?😸

sure! some of this isn’t necessarily tea, just some things i know about him, if that’s also cool with you!

1. he is single! yes, he’s been following and unfollowing girls like it’s his job (and i find it hilarious because it sounds like he unfollows them when they don’t follow him back 😭 petty king) and liking photos, but i haven’t been told of anything or anyone he’s been seeing / been exclusive with.

2. going off of #1, luke isn’t really the kind of guy to do hookups. (i think a lot of people know this now but if you didn’t, yeah, he’s not really a hookup kind of guy)

3. he’s funny. oh, my god, you guys, he is genuinely so funny, and his humor is extremely blunt and dry, or deadpan, if you’d like to call it that. i’m never not laughing when i see him at devils events or other places.

4. he’s shy, and very, very nice. shy isn’t the perfect word to use here, but he definitely isn’t extroverted. (though the 🦋 told me that he is definitely the loudest and craziest/most hyper of the three brothers when around friends / the team LOL)

5. on the umich game tea circling - i’ll be honest, i am absolutely not sure about this one, so i won’t answer for this tea. i can ask around, but i’m genuinely not sure if they’ll be going to umich’s first game of the season this year. it depends on when sheldon & rick want players back in new jersey / vancouver for preseason, and if they can swing it with their schedules. i know a few of their friends from umich were joking / commenting on socials that they have to come for a fantasy football punishment, but we’ll see!

if you want anything specific, let me know, but that’s all i’ve got right now! (and like i said with nico, my level of information will change heavily when the guys start coming back here to jersey😁)

[orphicdreamers-wp]

Better Hide Your Love — Nico Hischier

Summary: In which Jack and his girlfriend set you and Nico up on a blind date and neither of you are willing to give them the satisfaction of knowing it went well.

Content Warning; Blind date, mentions of previous sucky dates, secret relationship, sneaking around, plotting bff & jack.

Pairing: Fem Reader & Nico Hischier

You let out a defeated sigh as Maisie pleaded with you to let her set you up on a blind date. You’d gone on your fair share of blind dates recently, most going horribly whether you were stood up, the guy realized how much money you made and expected you to pay when he ordered the most expensive meal on the menu, made comments on your appearance or one of your interests. They just hadn’t been going the best. Maisie smiled, “I promise if the date goes badly I will order you takeout whenever you want for 4 months.” You grinned, “Deal, only because I hate paying for food I didn’t cook.”

On the other side of town Jack was doing the same thing his girlfriend was doing, but for his best friend. Nico shook his head, “No way Jack. After what happened last time I let you set me up no way in hell!” Jack held his hands up in defense, “Hey! I didn’t know she was a nutcase and would tattoo your face on her ass. But I swear this girl is perfect. She has a good paying job so you wouldn’t have to worry about her being with you for money, she’s friends with Maisie so obviously she isn’t crazy. Look if the date goes shitty I’ll let you drive my car for a month.” Nico raised an eyebrow, amused by the offer, “Alright, I’ll go. Just text me when and where.”

Jack grinned as he hurried to his phone to call his girlfriend. He pressed the phone to his ear, “Hey Mais, he said yeah. Okay Friday night at 8? Drinks and dinner. Okay at DiLaurent’s right?” He nodded as his girlfriend agreed. He returned to his friend, “DiLaurent’s downtown at 8 on Friday night. Dinner and drinks.” Nico sighed as he ran a hand over his face, “This better be a decent date Hughes.” Friday came quickly and you were standing in front of your mirror sporting a soft smile. You opted for a black dress with ruffles and a slit up the thigh. You paired it with simple gold heels and gold jewelry and a red lipstick and winged eyeliner.

You let out a deep breath, “I got this.” You grabbed your thin gold clutch and hurried out of your apartment and downstairs to get into the backseat of your Uber. You nervously tapped your nails against your bare thigh. You arrived outside the restaurant and thanked your Uber driver and headed inside. You told the hostess your name and she led you to a table where a man sat with his back to you. From what you could see, he was definitely taller than you and muscular and he looked damn good in dark red.

You smiled as he stood up to pull out your chair, “Y/N right?” You nodded, “You must be Nico. Hi.” Nico smiled at the woman sitting in front of him. She was effortlessly beautiful and her eyes held a twinkle in them that Nico was interested in looking at for awhile. You smiled at him, “So how do you know Jack if I can ask? Maisie didn’t give me much.” Nico grinned, “He’s my teammate, and most days my best friend. How do you know Maisie?”

You laughed, “We were roommates at boarding school in Switzerland when we were in like grade 9.” Nico smiled widely, “What boarding school?” You smiled as you crossed your feet, “Brillantmont International.” Nico shook his head, “No way! My sister went there.” You laughed, “I loved it there.” The waitress approached your table, “Have you had a chance to go over the drink menus?” You looked at the woman, “I’ll just do a white wine if possible.” Nico looked over the drinks, “I’ll take a Negroni.” The waitress smiled as she walked away to get your drinks.

You and him fell back into a smooth rhythm of conversation. Nico smiled as he took a drink of his drink, “So what do you do for work? Jack said you make decent money.” You laughed, “I’m the head athletic trainer for the Harlem Wizards. I also sent to med school and am doing a cardiology residency. I worked for the Seattle Mariners for a while before moving here.” Nico grinned sheepishly, “So if I get hurt you could nurse me back to health. Good to know.” Your cheeks flushed a deep red at his comment.

The waitress had returned to take your order for the meals. Nico ordered first as you weren’t quite ready yet, “Could I have the chicken broccolini alfredo with extra garlic?” You smiled as the waitress turned to you, “Could I have the 8 oz steak, medium rare, extra mushrooms and onions and a side of loaded mashed potatoes?” The waitress smiled at you two, “Of course I’ll have that right out for you. Can I just say you two are a stunning couple.” You smiled at Nico as he thanked her. Nico grinned, “Hey at least people think I could convince a beautiful woman to be my girlfriend.” You laughed, “I’m sure you could.”

The date ended just as well as it started. You and Nico had both ordered the same dessert and laughed about it. You agreed to not tell Jack and Maisie blow well the date went. You made plans for another date. You exchanged numbers as Nico waited with you for your Uber to arrive. You returned to your apartment sporting a grin. You could hear the low hum of your television so you knew that Maisie was in your living room waiting for you to return home to pester you about the date. You pulled out your phone and sent Nico a text telling him you got home safe.

You wiped the smile from your face as you unlocked your door and entered the apartment, “Hi Mais.” Maisie turned off the TV at hearing your voice, “So how was Nico? Was he sweet? Did the date go well? Are you seeing him again? Me you and the guys can double date now! We can go to home games together!” You laughed at the woman’s antics, “Nico was fine, he was kind and respectful. He was just too blah for me. I don’t think we’re gonna go out again.”

Maisie frowned, “Okay, well do you wanna watch TV? There’s a new Love Island episode on.” You shook your head, “I’m wiped Mais, I just wanna take a shower and go to sleep. We have a game tomorrow so I have to be in early to do pre game checks.” Maisie nodded, “Alright, good night. I’ll let myself out.” You hugged her as your made your way to your bedroom and began to get your stuff ready for a shower. You allowed the huge smile to return to your face as you did so.

Nico entered practice the next day with a spring in his step. He was cautious about letting Jack see it so he could lie and say the date didn’t go well so you and him could enjoy getting to know each other without having Jack and Maisie in your ear the whole time. He entered the locker room when Jack spoke, “Hey so what went down last night? Mais said she thought Y/N seemed off after the date.” Nico shrugged, “We just didn’t click. We have nothing in common.” Jack left it at that.

A good two months had passed since the blind date and you and Nico spent every available moment together. You sat high up in the crowds at hockey games while Maisie sat in her box seat. Nico made appearances at a handful of Wizards games. Currently you two were sitting on your couch making out as an Etta James vinyl played on your record player. You two had gone out to a dive bar the previous night. Nico didn’t have practice today so he spent the night. You two had watched all of the Scream movies and then made dinner together and now were making out.

He’d asked you to be his girlfriend the night before. You pulled away from the kiss as you heard keys in your door, “Shit, go hide in my shower. It’s Maisie, I forgot that I told her she could raid my closet for her anniversary date with Jack today.” Nico pressed a quick kiss against your lips as the door opened. He hurried down the hall into the bathroom as Maisie entered the living room, “Hey Y/N, seriously you don’t need to be drinking this much. What did you forget you had a glass already. She was gesturing at the two wine glasses on the coffee table.

You let out a sigh of relief, “Let’s just find you an outfit so I can get back to my horror romance book.” You shut a book near you and made your way to your bedroom. You laid across your bed as Maisie began to flip through your clothes landing on a silk purple dress and heading for the bathroom, “Wait Mais! Just use my room, I have to shit.” Maisie nodded as she returned to your room and you made your way into the bathroom and pressed a hand over Nico’s mouth as you stood there in silence.

You dropped your pants and sat on the toilet as Maisie entered the bathroom. You had never been more grateful you chose dark green shower curtains. Nico was completely out of view of Maisie as she fixed her hair up. Maisie turned to you and sighed dreamily, “I can’t believe I’m celebrating my two year anniversary. I mean Y/N don’t you wanna fall in love?”

You sighed sadly, “Yeah someday, I just don’t want to be the person who falls in love with someone incapable of loving them back, again.” Maisie shrugged, “I know, maybe you should think about trying another date Nico. He’s sweet and still single.” You shrugged, “I don’t know maybe. You should go before your late. You look stunning Maisie.” Maisie smiled at you, “Thank you, I’ll see you later.”

You waited until you heard your front door shut to speak, “That was so close.” Nico spoke as he stepped out of the shower, “I know, maybe we should tell them? I don’t love hiding this now that I know Jack isn’t gonna screw it up for me.” You shrugged, “Maybe your right.” You and Nico returned to your heavy make out session on the couch.

A few weeks later Nico had convinced you to come to his game and you two would figure a way to tell Jack and Maisie you guys had been dating. You had your own plan, you’d borrowed many of Nico’s spare jerseys and you decided to borrow one and wear it to the game. You paired it with a pair of ripped jeans, black converse and an oversized leather black jacket. You put a bit of red lipstick on and clipped in some silver hoop earrings.

You were climbing up the stairs to your seat when Maisie called from a lower part of the seats, “Y/N! What are you doing here?” You smiled as you hugged her, “Can I sit?” Maisie grinned, “Of course sit!” You pulled your leather jacket off as you turned to your friend. Maisie was sporting a confused look, “Why are you wearing Nico’s jersey?” You sighed, “It’s a good thing your pretty Mais.”

Nico skated onto the ice and smiled to himself upon seeing you in his jersey sitting with Maisie and the other WAGS. You had your back to the ice when Jack noticed you and turned to his friend, “Did you finally get a girlfriend Nico? Who’s the chick with my girl?” Jack’s eyes bugged out of his head when he saw the girls face as you turned around. Jack gasped, “You are such a liar! You two have been together for months! Haven’t you?” Nico’s face paled, “Maybe.”

Jack skated away from his friend and stopped in front of you. He glared at you, “You owe us big time! Both of you.” Maisie looked at you then her boyfriend and finally Nico, “You bitch! You’ve been sneaking around behind my back to my face!” You grinned, “I just wanted to have one thing to myself for a while. It’s new though, we’ve only been dating for like 3 weeks.” Maisie grinned, “I’m so happy! So the blind date was a success?” You grinned as your boyfriend approached you, “Yeah.”

Nico grinned widely, “13’s a good look on you.” You grinned as a bright red blush painted your cheeks, “I could say the same thing about you Mr Hischier.” Nico grinned, “So you still up for tonight?” You smiled, “Definitely.”

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Why do you think that? - Nico Hischier

Word Count - 4400

Author's Note - I don't know how I feel about this segment part of me likes it, but as I was writing it I don't think it turned out as I wanted it to in my head. I don't know, let me know what you guys think as always.

Warnings - reader has body dysmorphia, mentions of anxiety, and low self-esteem due to body issues, but does end HAPPILY.

Summary - Y/N was happy with Nico, he made her feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. But what happens when an old friend of Y/N visits and they start looking back on old pictures. Or how does Nico handle Y/N pushing away when her body dysmorphia seems to finally catch up to her after so long of it being pushed to the back of her mind.

let me love you masterlist main masterlist

Dating Nico has been one of the best experiences of your life. He was like a breath of fresh air because even on the toughest days he would never judge you for what you felt, he truly loved you for all parts of you including the parts you hated about yourself.  Since meeting Nico, you truly haven’t had as many thoughts when it came to how you saw hips and the fact that they had some fat on them. Or how your stomach was very round and not the standard of beauty. Somehow Nico, without him even knowing, gave you the confidence to help not obsess over those parts of your body as you did before because he made you truly believe you were the most beautiful thing to walk the earth. 

When you got the call from your old high school friend Ethan, who was your best friend all of high school, and even college you would describe him as someone who was always there, always present, like a brother. But as anyone’s twentys’ naturally does, people drift apart in the most natural ways. He decided to move to San Francisco and start his career and you moved to New Jersey for the same reason. 

When Ethan called and told you that he was in town for the week due to work. Both of you immediately knew that you definitely needed a night to catch up after so long. The plan was Ethan would come over after work, and you guys would have dinner together at your apartment and then head to Nico’s home game after. Nico already needs to leave for the stadium before Ethan gets off work, so you told Nico you would introduce him to your friend after the game. 

The dinner was filled with reminiscing on all your memories together over the years. Laughter could be heard throughout the apartment at all the stories being told between the two of you about past memories. The night didn’t start to go downhill, until you were doing the dishes. Ethan was leaning against the counter near your fridge, still talking to you while you washed. That’s when he noticed all the little polaroids of you and Nico over the past two years. 

“Oh my god you still do that?!” The shock was clear in his voice, but with your back facing him you weren’t sure what he was talking about.

“Do what?” asking as you slightly turn your neck to see what Ethan was looking at. Noticing he was looking at the polaroids you nodded your head. “Yeah I hadn’t since college but I don’t know, Nico one day saw my old polaroid camera and some old pictures and it kind of just happened. Now anytime we travel somewhere new, or some type of event we take one. Even if it’s just a selfie.” you chuckled to yourself.

Remembering going to a family wedding last summer and taking a polaroid in the hotel bathroom because Nico insisted. To this Nico says it’s his favorite picture of you looking up at him, he looks down at you with all the love his eyes could have, as he watches you lean up on your toes trying to steal a kiss. The camera being held on his side as it flashes a mirror selfie, the bathroom counter covered in all your makeup products but Nico insisted he needed his picture. 

“Wait, you still have them?” Ethan’s booming voice full of excitement and reminiscing brings you out of your daydream. Turning the water off and drying your hands you turn to him. 

“Yeah somewhere around here.”

 “We still have an hour before we need to leave for the game right? Could we look at some of them?” He asks, his face full of excitement to see all your polaroids from over the years, knowing that it will probably unlock some memories that you both have forgotten. 

“Sure I guess if you want. I'll grab them from my room, meet ya in the living room.” A smile on your face at the idea of being able to go through the pictures with someone who was actually there. 

It only took you a few minutes to grab the two shoe boxes you kept most of your old polaroids in. Most of it was fighting to reach the top shelf that Nico put them on to create more space and being too stubborn to go ask Ethan for help. 

“Here they are.” making your way to the living room, setting the boxes done on the coffee table and sitting on the other end of the coach, your back resting against the arm of the couch. 

“Damn girl you really haven’t changed.” he says teasingly pointing out the fact that you’re still using the same shoeboxes to keep all your old polaroids in. 

“What can I say? I’m not sure if it’s more about tradition or pure laziness.” softly admitting that you haven’t ever even thought about putting them in a proper album. Unlike the extra ones you and Nico have. Almost all of them displayed on the fridge, in cute frames from Amazon that Nico insisted on, some in his stale, and his favorite currently in his pocket tucked in his wallet. 

Reaching for one of the boxes, Ethan puts it between you both as he turns to face you on the coach. Opening the lid and setting it on the floor, he reaches in and grabs the first picture on top. It’s both of you from your first homecoming dance Freshman year. Standing back to back, arms crossed laughing with some dumb glow stick glasses on. 

“Oh my god I can’t believe we were ever that young,” he admits. “Hey isn’t this the first one, like they were taking them that night or something.” 

“Yeah the one that started it all” you say softly, as Ethan keeps going on and on about what he remembers at that night. But your mind was occupied with other thoughts consumed with how snug your stomach looked in the dress, how round it stuck out compared to Ethan who stood next to you. Even though you can’t see it through his white dress shirt, you know at the time he had a 6 pack at the time. 

Ethan kept pulling out pictures, one by one some of them made you feel sick, looking at how big you looked. Some made you angry because how dare you make yourself think you were fat at the time but you weren’t. In fact, in the one from sophomore year of college, your stomach was as flat as the other girls standing next to you. In the photo all the girls are laughing except you. Even though you were drunk you remember that photo being taken like it happened five minutes ago. Remembering how one of the girls insisted they wanted polaroids with you like Ethan had currently hanging up in your dorm. Even though you try to forget, you will never forget how your pulse quickened because you believed that you gained more than a ‘Freshman fifteen’. Sucking in your stomach trying to hide behind the girls who stood around you, but they insisted on you being front and center. 

Gosh how you remember how your body trembled slightly, red solo cup in hand, you felt like an elephant in that moment. Remembering this picture you dreaded this picture being picked out when Ethan asked to look at all the old polaroids. 

“Dude you looked so fucking hot that night. Remember I was visiting you that weekend.” Still looking at the little photo.

“Hmmm” Even though you tried to get your eyes to look up from the photos to look somewhere that wasn’t making you either a)feel like shit for looking so big and still not having the body type you want or b) look away to ehlp the angry that was stewing from believing that you looked ugly back then for your stomach and wide hips, but at least then they were defined not all you had was fat rolls, where your hips should point out. 

“Y/N?” Ethan called your name for the third time in the 5 minutes, you were lost in your own thoughts. 

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I asked if you were okay?” concern laced in his voice. 

“Yeah great, we should get ready to go. Let me just change into something Devils related I’ll be right back.�� you mumble the last part as you quickly turn to escape to your room. Leaving Ethan confused, because even though you considered him a brother for so many years, you battled your issues about your body by yourself. 

Standing in front of your full length mirror in nothing but your sports bra and leggings, you can’t help but pinch the skin around your hips, rolling the fat between your fingers. Noticing how worse you look than almost 5 years ago, even though back then you thought you looked the worse you ever had. But now, today, no your body was aging and you were gaining fat, and you hated yourself for it. Bringing back all those irrational feelings and thoughts you had when it came to being around your appearance. 

Originally you were planning on wearing the athletic leggings you were currently wearing and a crop top to the game. The crop top was a jersey crop top with his number on the back. He loved when you wore his jersey, but he really really loved when you wore that crop top. He told you one time that looking up in the stands and seeing you in it. Watching guys try to check you out, until they realized that it was a custom crop top. The back didn’t just have his number on it, it said husband on it where traditionally his name would be. Even though you weren’t married or even engaged. Nico knew you were it for him and it was only a matter of time before he got down on one knee. 

But now, feeling self conscious, even though you told Nico you would wear it tonight, you decided to change into your big black boyfriend style jeans that hide most of your lower stomach. Along with grabbing Nico’s extra jersey he kept, not only is Nico alone much bigger than you but this was meant for him in gear. It looked like you were swimming in and somehow you still felt like people could see your stomach like you were 9 months pregnant. Throwing on a black beanie with the devils logo on it because you always got cold in the stadium you left your bedroom to meet Ethan in the living room. 

“Hey ready?” you asked as you stood by the door and slid on some ugg booties. 

“Yeah. hey did I upset you earlier?” Looking up you could see Ethan was holding his breath, his eyes full of concern for you. 

“Nope I’m good, just got lost in thought about tonight’s game. Sorry” It was a real bullshit excuse, but it was the first thing you thought of. As the lie left your lips, you hoped that with the years apart Ethan couldn’t still read you like the back of his hand and could tell if you were lying. He just nodded at you, he never addressed if he knew or not and it made you very grateful for him in that moment. 

—---------------------------------------------------

The drive to the game was fine, both of you somehow falling back into your old comfort of being close for so many years. Driving into the level of the parking garage that was reserved for players and their families, security waving at you as you passed. 

“Whoa.” you could hear Ethan mumble from the passenger seat. 

“Honestly the parking is the best park” you joked, both of you laughing as you got out of the car and made your way into the stadium. 

Quickly you made it to your seats, you chose not to sit with the wags in the suite because you had Ethan. Sitting a few rows behind the devils bench. Since you stayed at the apartment a little longer than usual, you missed warmups. But you made it just in time to your seats right before puck drop. Nico saw you immediately and smiled, but then it dropped a little when he saw Ethan. It was then that you realized you had never actually told Nico that your friend from high school was a boy. ‘Fuck me’ you repeated in your head. It wasn’t that Nico didn’t trust you, he just didn’t trust others. He was also very big on open communication and you knew he probably thought you tried to hide on purpose which wasn’t the case. 

The first period was okay, Nico played a lot more aggressive towards the other team than he normally would. He was able to score a goal and one assist so he was kind of on fire from that standpoint. But everyone who knew him, could tell he was on edge, even Ethan who was next to you asked you about it. 

“Yeah he’s okay I think” you mumbled. Pulling out your phone to see Nicole, Jesper’s girlfriend even texted you to ask if everything was okay. Knowing that you will probably regret it later you ignored her and decided to text Nico. Knowing that it was a long shot that he checked his phone during intermission, you prayed that he would given the current situation, because honestly after the day you’ve had you don’t think you can mentally handle Nico being upset with you. 

Neeks 🏒Sent 7:30 PM

I swear it slipped my mind Neeks. 

Patiently you waited for a response, holding your phone in your hand but also still entertaining Ethan you felt your phone buzz 

Schatzi received 7:40 PM

Okay. I believe you. 

Is he an ex?

Schatzi received 7:43 PM

Nevermind I hate myself for asking that. 

Especially over text. See you after schatzi. 

Neeks 🏒 7:44 PM

No never, he’s like my brother. 

Please don’t apologize for asking. I love you. 

Nico heard your last message and then he was gone, focused back on talking to the team and rehydrating you. Feeling more at ease then you did earlier you somehow made it through the rest of the game. The Devils won against the Stars 3 - 1, you felt on fire as you stood and cheered with the rest of the fans. 

Turning to Ethan you gestured towards the ice, knowing that Nico was going to come over because he had to go back to the locker room and do post game press tonight. Nico took his helmet off as he skated off the ice to stand in the tunnel for you guys. Security knowing you let you pass, and eventually Ethan once you told him he was with you. 

“Hi you played so good.” As you greeted Nico with a hug in the tunnel. It wasn’t the prettiest hug given all the gear and even more so height difference with his skates on. 

“Thank you baby. Sorry” he whispered the end in your ear. Reaching up to deepen the hug for a few more seconds. Your body automatically stiffened as he brought his hands to your hips squeezing, immediately you tried to push the negative thoughts to the back of your mind that were flooding in by that one little simple touch from Nico. 

“I’m sorry too.” Pulling away you couldn’t help the smile knowing that there wasn’t any weird tension between you both. But the smile didn’t reach your eyes and Nico noticed immediately, his eyes quickly flashing you a questioning look before you both turned to the other person standing in the tunnel next to you. 

Quickly you introduced the pair, before Nico had to quickly head to the locker room and shower before some quick interviews. Walking out of the stadium, Ethan told you that he had a great time catching up and went ahead and ordered an uber so you didn’t have to drive him home. 

It worked out since Nico texted you to wait for him, since he pulled with the Hughes brothers to the game with the intention of driving home with you at the end of the night. Once Ethan got in his uber you made your way back into the Rock, and quickly flashed your family badge and slowly made your way to the tunnel with locker rooms. 

Finding yourself getting lost in your head, over obsessing about how your body currently looked compared to the other wags as they waited for their partners. Even though you tried you couldn’t help yourself from comparing your body to theirs. None of them had round hips that you couldn’t even see their figure due to the fat on them. Nor were they above the size 3 on a good day. You must if been lost in your thoughts for longer then you thought because before you knew you felt someone touch your arm, slightly jumping at the touch. 

“Schatzi it’s me” Nico’s surprised by your reaction to his touch. 

“Sorry I was distracted.”

“I could tell” A light chuckle left his lips. “Wanna talk about what you were thinking about?” As he steps closer into your space, normally you would love it when he wrapped his arms around you and caged you against the wall behind you.

“Nico please, I just wanna go home.” you begged him, the hurt that flashed across his face left as quickly as it came. 

“Yeah let’s go.” backing up and taking your hand as he led you both to your car. “I’ll drive home baby.” he offered as you made it to the car, you unlocked it and he put his gear in the backseat. As you slipped into the passenger seat and buckled your seatbelt you couldn’t help but think about how round your stomach was despite the jersey you were wearing. 

Nico went to reach his hand over, he tried putting it on your thigh but you just decided to hold it between your own, tracing each tiny scare that you could see. There was no hiding that something was off with you, and you knew he knew something was wrong and it was only a matter of time before he asked you. Thankfully you made it all the way back to your apartment before he dared to open his mouth, praying that you were in the clear. As you both made it to your bedroom. Nico made his way to the in-suite bathroom to start his night time routine. But all you had the energy to do was grab Nico’s biggest oversize shirt, strip your clothes off you currently had on, not even bothering to put them in the hamper and slip under the covers. 

Nico came out a few minutes later, at first he didn’t notice the lump that was your body in the darkness of the room, Not until after he changed into sweats and turned to shoot his clothes in the dirty hamper. “KOBE!” He yelled, you weren’t facing him but you knew that meant he made it, and that was when he noticed that you didn’t put your clothes in the hamper. Something that you literally bicker at him if he doesn’t do it immediately. It was then that he realized you were already under the covers, you didn’t even do any skin care, shit he thought to himself you didn’t even brush your teeth. His face was a deep frown as he was worried about what happened from the time he left for the game to now merely 6 hours later. 

He climbed under the covers and reached out for you, you were on the far edge of the bed trying to take as little space as possible. Even though you felt like you were hogging the bed with your body. Lost in your one mind, your own dark thoughts of insecurities about how you looked clouding your mind, you didn’t even notice Nico’s light touches trying to reach out for you.

“Y/N” he gently said. Somehow that immediately brought you out of your trance, he never called you by your name, not even around his teammates, family it didn’t matter it was always schatzi, baby, love, never Y/N. 

Making a sound of acknowledgement that you heard him, he rested under your hip bone and gently rubbed it, trying to bring you comfort, but it just made you stiffen. Making all your insecure thoughts come flooding in at even a faster rate, you think about why he was with you when he could have any girl he wanted. Noticing your body stiffen at his touch, he deeply sighed. “My love. Please look at me.” The brokenness of his voice, broke your spirit cutting deep into you, the last thing you wanted was to hurt Nico. He scooted closer to you, or maybe he pulled you closer you couldn’t tell and honestly didn’t care because all you craved was his touch while you still had it before your mind pushed him away like everyone else. 

Closing your eyes you covered your face with your arm as Nico gently turned you in his arms. Now you were laying your back, Nico resting on his arm, looking down at you. “Why are you crying baby?” Nico was waiting for you to talk, you both knew he wasn’t gonna let it go until you told him what was wrong. He spoke up, this time his words surprised you “Was it Ethan?” his voice laced with anger at the thought that something happened when he wasn’t here. 

“No.” 

“Then what?” he gently asked, his hand moving from your hips to go up and down your side. 

“Do you hate my body?” you spoke softly. Nico’s hand stopped, causing you to cry a little harder out of your own insecurities coming to life. Was this it? Was this the moment everything ended with him? Did he finally realize that you didn’t have a perfect body like all the other wags? 

“Why would you think that?” pulling you closer once his brain catches up to your words. The shock was clear in his voice, as to why you would ever think he could hate any part of you. 

“Because I do.” turning to him. He pulls you into your arms, holding you tightly against himself, one arm tucked around your waist, the other almost crashing your head into his shoulder. Any other time you would complain, but tonight you welcomed the bone crushing feeling. After a few minutes of crying, your tears seem to finally slow down enough, your throat raw from the sobs that you left out, as your still body slightly shakes, riding out this emotional turmoil. 

“Again. Why would you think that?” Although Nico spoke soft, in the dark dimmed lighting of your bedroom, the gravity of his voice was clear. 

“I always have.” Letting out a sigh as you slightly pushed your head away so you could look up at Nico. His soft brown eyes easily show the hurt within them, gazing intently into yours as he waited patiently for you to continue. “I - I hate my hips, and I hate how round my stomach is.” Taking a few more breaths you continued. 

“You know how we take polaroids cause you found out I use to do it as a teenager and in college?” you softly ask. The confusion of the sudden change of subject was clear in Nico’s face but nonetheless he nodded, knowing it would all connect in the end. “Well Ethan saw the ones on our fridge tonight, and I told him how it started because you found some of the old ones.” 

“Okay” he softly said, encouraging you to continue. 

“Well I don’t know if I ever told you, but I actually started that because of my first school dance in high school, they were taking polaroids. Ethan and I took the first one together and I don’t know if it kind of stuck. I begged my mom for one for Crhistmas and before I knew it I had a collection.” Taking a deep breath you continued, looking anywhere but at Nico during your next confession. 

“Well I always believed I was big in high school, I became obsessed with the fact that all my friends had guys around fighting for their attention but no one did that for me. It made me think it was because of my body, my hips are wider than most girls and they have fat on them. And my stomach it-” 

“Why is all of this coming up now though baby?”

“Well Ethan asked to look at the old ones I had, so we did. But they just made me angry because I wasn’t that big in some of them at all. I made myself believe that I was fat but I wasn’t, and it made me angry because this girl believed she was unlovable because of her body, and I carried that shit with me! And now I actually am big since college and you deserve someone who isn’t anything less perfect” 

“Stop.” he slightly begged not because he didn’t want to hear your thoughts but because they were physically causing him pain, as to how someone so beautiful could think so little of themselves. 

“You my sweet Y/N are the definition of beauty. I don’t know what you're talking about with this hip wide, stomach bullshit. You are the most beautiful, loving, sexy girl I have ever seen. I don’t want anyone else okay? Ever. “ His voice makes emphasis on his last words. 

“I am deeply, madly, in love with you. Do you think I ever forced a girl to take pictures let alone POLAROIDS with me for every little thing?” The question came off as slightly rhetorical, but he still in true Nico flash giggled in the middle of a dramatic pause. “No. Because I think in the back of my mind, I always knew there would be someone after them, but you, you're it for me. Okay.” 

“Okay.” 

“I think we should talk more tomorrow about getting help. This sounds serious, my love.” Shaking your head okay to his suggestion. “Good. I love you.” leaving a gently kiss in between each word he continued to whisper sweet nothings until he felt your body relax, causing him to finally feel at ease truly for the first time that night, allowing both of you to fall asleep in a deep slumber.

[thatsdemko]

who’s the worst of them all? someone tell Santa Claus! - f1 grid

part two | masterlist

warning: not intended for minors + some jokes + fluff/filler part

a/n: hi hi it’s me… I’ve had this written since early November and I’m excited to share!! enjoy!!

DEAR Y/N,

have you been a good girl this year? I heard you’re looking for your stocking stuffed, I think I have just the gift. meet me at midnight for your gift!

Xx

secret Santa

you can’t read this out loud, and most definitely not to the public who will view this video later. whoever was your secret Santa, must’ve heard the rumors of your dry spell. and how pitiful was if that it wasn’t even a rumor, it was the truth.

“oh it’s just a sweet handwritten note.” you chuckle quickly flashing the note to the camera before shoving it back inside the off white envelope.

the presenter presses for more information. she asks what the letter contains and who you think it’s from, and in all honesty, it could be coming from anyone.

all the boys handwriting was not legible. it was like getting a doctors script, it could mean anything, but it was clear this individual took their time to make it perfect.

“I’ll have to find out at the Christmas dinner tonight.” you flash a wink in hopes to cover the beet red look against your cheeks.

“well have fun!”

fun… this was about to be nowhere near fun when it came down to narrowing twenty something guys to be your secret Santa.

—

starting off with Pierre. in his bachelor days, he would’ve sent you something like this, but it was always harmless jokes and he would never take it this far. with kika around his arm, you could cross him off the list of embarrassing yourself in front of.

then there’s his best friend, Charles. he always had a wobbly relationship with women, and seeing he’s alone tonight you cross the room heading his way, “you don’t happen to be my secret Santa?” your hands delicately press against his shoulders, he turns around rather quickly at your touch instantly shaking his head, “no, no, I got Pierre this year. you still don’t know yours?”

shaking your head in response, you eye the room from where you stand. the bar had begun to fill with drivers and team members rather quickly. the air was colder now, but the heat from inside was welcoming to those dressed in bare minimum, like yourself. Charles hand against your lower back was like a radiator, the heat spread through your system faster than the log fire going on, “I’m sure you’ll find him.” Charles promises, “but for now, can I get you a drink?”

“please.”

—

the nights gone smoothly and so far you can cross off valterri, Logan, Kevin, and Nico. you’re questioning yuki, Daniel, Lewis, and lando due to their abilities to dodge the questions.

George outright told you it wasn’t him after hearing you’d spun yourself in circles to find anyone new to question. Logan had confessed to having brought up the idea, but refused to give any further information.

and then there was Carlos.

the man who’d been under your nose this whole evening. with his bow tie crooked, and the clock ticking closer to midnight, you meander your way over to where he stands.

“I’m not who you’re looking for, hermosa.”

“and who am I looking for exactly?”

his eyes flicker from the clock, the television highlighting the Real Madrid game, and back over to you, “I’d never send such a cryptic message.” he maneuvers his body to face yours, “I know how to ask for what I want.”

“and what is it that you want?” you press your body closer in to the smooth wood bar top. your mind is spinning, your heart is hammering it’s way out of your chest, and Carlos is inching closer.

“for you to leave me alone.”

“you’re no fun, sainz.” you pout your bottom lip out and spin on your heels to find your body pressed into lando’s.

“you find him yet?” landos cheeky grin makes him look like a Cheshire Cat. ever since he read the note he’d been eager to place the pin on the man and root for your dry spell to end.

for now, it’s ten minutes to midnight and the place was emptying. the alcohol buzzed around the room and the chatter begun to die, it’s ironic how it was a little bit like your heart: buzzing to find the guy, but ready to die at the sight of him.

“I’m sure it’s all just a prank and I’ll have Logan to blame for it.”

“miss,” the bartenders tap against your shoulder makes you spin away from landos chest, “this is for you.”

DEAR Y/N,

giving up? never thought of you as a quitter.

xx

yours

grinding your teeth together you press the napkin into your palm until the ink smudges. you’re no quitter, but if the man with no balls doesn’t show up soon, you’ll leave here ready to slam your car into someone else’s.

“I’m going to head out, you’ll be okay to walk out alone?”

lando’s worries snap your thoughts from the napkin that’s disintegrating into your hands. his touch is soft against your bare shoulder, making your body two degrees warmer than the room, “I’ll be fine, you go home and have a good Christmas.”

“you too, and if you don’t find him—“

“yes, I know, you’ll key his car.”

rolling your eyes, you playfully shove the Brit off into the cold, leaving you and the cleaning crew in silence.

you never noticed how trashed the bar was. in its glory days, you can tell the red thick carpet and white trim around the bar gave the place a holiday feel. and by the old pictures scattered around the walls, the formula one boys had a riot in this place. people from Michael Schumacher all the way down to young Fernando Alonso, the place seemed to always be the home of f1.

looking down at the disintegrated napkin in your hand, and quickly looking up at the clock, midnight had just struck. if he wasn’t here by 12:01 you were a goner. you hated people who wasted your time, you’d much rather be at home or maybe in lando’s warm McLaren buzzing from the alcohol and the warm leather seats.

turning on your heel, he’d just arrived. he’s shaking the snow off his bulky black jacket, shimmering out of the sleeves. a man comes and retrieves it from his grasp, and in typical fashion, he thanks him.

“you thought I wouldn’t come?”

“I hate when people are late.”

“good thing I’m not late then,” he says with a soft smile approaching where you stand at the bar, with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. he leans forward, inching his mouth over your ear, “I’m right on time.”

a/n: take your guesses on who you think it is!! the big reveal happens Christmas Day!

tags: @oconso @xcicix @imsorare @weasleyswizardwheezes-blog @monzabee @lpab @frreyaa @motorsp0rt @lovelytsunoda @smoothopz z @jaehyunluvcult @iloveyou3000morgan @lunnnix @leclerc13 @goldenalbon

[leaentries]

i want you to give in | nico hischier

summary: tension can only build for so long, eventually it will have to snap.

warnings: suggestive themes, swearing

wc: 2.6k+

You and Nico had only been friends a couple of months, but that didn’t stop the growing tension every time you were in the same room. 

Becoming close friends with a bunch of professional hockey players was not on your bingo card for the year. Yet, here you are, knocking on the door of Jack and Luke’s shared apartment.

You had met Luke at a bar when your so-called “friends” dragged you out for the night, then proceeded to ditch you for some random guys they had run into. 

Luke noticed your sunken form at the corner of the bartop, looking as out of place as he felt. He took the opportunity to introduce himself, buying you a drink in the process. After the two of you hit it off, he made sure to stay by your side the rest of the night. When you told him about your friend's leaving, he took it upon himself to integrate you into the tight-knit hockey crowd in the back of the wide room. 

You immediately fell into a comfortable conversation with a shaggy-haired boy named Dawson. These boys, along with the select girlfriends and wives, welcomed you with open arms. Only about an hour or so had passed when he showed up. 

It was almost embarrassing how quickly you were drawn to him. Maybe it was the way he carried himself with such confidence, but not enough to seem arrogant. Or, perhaps, it was the way his tight shirt clung to the defined muscles along his torso. 

Watching his movements grow closer, you saw a few of the other boys side-hug him, clearly excited by his presence. You leaned closer to Dawson’s side, trying to get a better view of the captivating brunette man. Dawson noticed your proximity, following your gaze to see where your focus had drifted to. He smirked.

“Whatcha lookin' at?” He asked smugly. 

Your eyes widened as you realized you had been caught staring. Hard. A warm blush crept up your neck as you averted to look at anything else. “N-nothing, just people watching.” You had hoped he bought your excuse, but the look on Dawson’s face proved otherwise. 

“Oh no, no, no. That was definitely not nothing. I saw you making goo-goo eyes at Cap over there.” This time it was your turn to make a face. 

“Cap?”

Dawson nodded, “Yeah, that's Nico. Our captain.” 

Nico. 

Even his name was hot.

But what had you almost on your knees was when a pair of big, deep brown eyes met your own. Your breath hitched as Nico’s eyes raked down your body. If it was any other guy, you’d typically be bothered, but there was a strange feeling of comfort in his gaze.

His tongue darted out to wet his slightly-chapped lips and, if you weren’t so flustered, you could have sworn you saw Nico’s chest begin to rise quicker. Neither of you looked away from each other, not until Jack’s drunk form flung into Nico’s. The moment may have been fleeting, but the feeling Nico had left on you wasn’t. 

❥.

You didn’t run into Nico again until Luke had invited you to a Devil’s function at the Haula household. You were nervous, staying silent the entire ride over. 

“Are you alright?” Luke’s voice echoed in your ears, snapping you back to reality. 

“Mhm, yeah. I’m okay, just a little nervous, I guess.” You bit your lip, looking back out of the window. 

“Aw, c’mon, Y/n. You’ve already met almost everyone that’s gonna be there. They all love you.” 

You just gave him a tight-lipped smile in return. You had failed to mention your little “encounter” with Nico the week prior. Simply because you felt it was too insignificant to bring up to your new friend, especially with the man in question being Luke’s captain. 

When the car finally parked in front of the big house, you felt yourself hesitating. You knew Nico was already inside, as Luke had been running behind on his way to pick you up. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was about Nico that made your heart race and knees wobbly, but it was hard to hide his effect on your body. 

“You coming?” Luke walked over to the passenger side, opening the door for you.

It was now or never. 

You followed Luke into the house, quickly being welcomed by familiar faces. Although the face you were most anxious to see was nowhere to be found. You felt your stomach drop a little bit at his absence but shook off the feeling as Dawson made his way to you. 

“Hey, y/n/n! How ya been? I haven’t seen you in forever…” He whined, making you laugh. 

“I literally saw you last week Daws, but I’m just fine.” You let your eyes drift over Dawson’s shoulder briefly, still not seeing Nico. 

“Ah, I see,” Dawson drawled, making your eyes shoot back toward his, “You’re just concerned with finding “Mr. Pretty-Brown-Eyes,” He mocked.

“Dawson!” You slapped him slightly, “I texted you that in confidence!” You looked around to make sure no one had heard the loud boy’s comment. Seeing as everyone was preoccupied, you let out a relieved sigh. 

He threw his hands up in surrender, “Sorry, sorry! But, you can’t deny it. You’ve looked like a lost puppy since you and Luke stepped through the door.”

“Oh, whatever, I have not.” You pouted. 

“Have to- Oh look! There’s Nico!” 

You whipped your head in the direction Dawson was looking, only to be met with an empty wall. You turned back, stone-faced. 

“Haha, very funny, Mercer. Very funny.” You rolled your eyes at his antics, genuinely starting to feel a little sad that you hadn’t seen Nico yet. 

“C’mon, I can help you find him.”

You shook your head in protest, “No, no, absolutely not. Nope.” 

Dawson’s brows furrowed, “Why not? You very obviously want to see him.” 

“For your information, Dawson, I haven’t ever actually talked to him before.” You turned up your nose, rejecting the idea. 

“So you’re delusional?” Dawson deadpanned. 

Your jaw dropped, “Well, damn. Way to call a girl out.” 

He rolled his eyes, “I’m kidding..for the most part,” You gave him a pointed look, “Just come on, I’ll introduce you as my friend. I’ll even start the conversation. It’ll be fine, y/n/n.”

“Not happening. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to find the bathroom.”

“Sure, sure, escape just when I give you the opportunity of a lifetime.” 

You opted to ignore Dawson as you walked away, heading to the set of stairs that led to the second story. Having overheard someone ask earlier, you knew the bathroom was somewhere upstairs. Turning knobs, you eventually found the bathroom, walking in to do your business. 

Once you had finished, you opened the door to leave, not really paying attention to your surroundings. You stumbled back as you ran straight into a hard chest. 

“Shit!” Your hand flew to cover the slight red spot on your forehead, “I’m so so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going!” You apologized profusely, still not looking to see who you ran into. 

“Don’t worry about it, pretty girl. It was my fault.” The sound of a thick accent made your skin heat up. You looked up slightly, meeting Nico’s eyes. You swallowed thickly. 

“I don’t think we’ve met, properly. I’m Nico.” He flashed his dimples. 

Oh god. 

“I know who you are,” You panicked, “I-I mean, I’m Y/n.” 

He laughed, “Well then, I know who you are too.” 

“You do?” You peered up at him through your lashes, leaning your back against the door frame. 

Nico nodded, eyes slightly hooded. “Yeah, I saw you with Luke at the bar last week. You were wearing that black dress.” 

Your breath picked up at his statement. “You remember what I was wearing?” You silently cursed yourself for not being able to muster up any other words. 

Nico’s arm rose to rest above your head as he leaned closer down to you, “How could I not remember? It’s kind of hard to forget someone like you.” 

Before you could reply, you heard footsteps rushing up the stairs. 

“Hey, cap! You up here?” 

With your nerves getting the best of you, you took the chance to slip out of his bubble, quickly making your way back downstairs. 

Holy shit. 

❥.

Your encounters with Nico became more frequent, as you often were with the boys. The little flirty remarks only worsened, except now Nico took a liking to placing lingering touches on your body. 

Grabbing your hips to move you over, or slightly pulling your hand to lead you through public places. It felt as if he would find any excuse to touch you. Not that you were complaining, but it left your mind hazy. You would like to think he was into you the way you were him, but you couldn’t be sure.

You knew hockey players had “conquests,” and you weren’t really in the market to be one. So, you kept your feelings to yourself, not ready to face the harsh reality of Nico not being serious about pursuing you, at least romantically speaking. Which led you to now, meeting at the Hughes’ apartment for the weekly movie night. 

The whole ordeal started after a night out in which mostly everyone got too hammered to get home safely. Tonight’s movie agenda was the entire “Hunger Games” series since Luke has been wanting to go see the newest that just hit theaters. 

After Jack let you in the apartment, you made a b-line to the side room off the hallway that held all the blankets. You made sure to get the same one every movie night, refusing to share with anyone else. Curling up in your usual corner, a knock at the door stilled the apartment. 

“Who’s that?” Dawson asked Luke, who was making popcorn in the kitchen.

“It’s probably Nico. He wanted to start joining us for movie night.” 

You felt your body perk up at the new information, you’d be seeing Nico weekly. Another knock followed after a minute. 

“Could one of you please get that? I’m busy perfecting this popcorn.” 

“It’s literally just popcorn, Luke.” Dawson remarked. 

“No, there is the perfect butter-to-popcorn ratio that I have figured out. Now, please, let the captain inside.” 

Dawson, who just sat down, turned to you, “Can you let Cap in, y/n/n?” He smirked, “I’m still trying to get comfortable.” 

You narrowed your eyes in his direction, clearly picking up on what he was trying to do. 

“Guys?” Luke called, “It’s gonna get awkward if you don’t let him in.” 

Huffing, you rose from your spot, “I’m going, I’m going. Don’t get your panties in a twist, Luke.” 

You gripped the cold metal doorknob, taking a deep breath before opening it. 

Whoa.

You felt yourself shamelessly check out Nico’s attire, his muscular form clad in grey sweats and a simple black t-shirt. An action that did not go unnoticed by Nico. 

He smirked, gently brushing past you, “Who’s panties are in a twist?” 

Goosebumps rose upon your heated skin. 

A man that hot should never be allowed to say panties so casually. 

By the time you got back to your spot, a certain Swiss male had decided to occupy the once-perfect corner seat. Your shoulders slumped slightly, you felt a whine build up in your throat. 

“Nico, you know I always sit there.” You pouted at him, sending a glare his way. 

He chuckled, “Don’t worry, we can share. My lap still has plenty of room.” 

You could have sworn you stopped breathing. The way his brown eyes shined into yours made you almost hopeful that his smooth words were more than just a ploy, but doubt still rang clear in your ears. Before you could respond, Jack and Luke entered the living room, both with bowls full of popcorn. 

“Hey Y/n, would you mind going to grab some more blankets for everyone? We have our hands full with this popcorn.” Jack asked you, sending you a grateful smile. 

You eagerly accepted the offer to escape. Opening the closet door, you quickly shut it halfway, taking a moment to compose yourself. 

In and out, Y/n. In and out. 

Once your breathing was semi-normal, you turned around grabbing an armful of random blankets. As you turned once more, this time to leave, you ran into a hard chest. 

“You know, we really need to stop meeting like this, pretty girl.” Nico’s voice echoed in your ears as he quietly shut the door behind him. You scoffed, placing the blankets on the shelf beside you. Crossing your arms, you looked into Nico’s eyes. 

“And you really need to stop calling me that.” You slightly cringed at how harsh your words sounded through the small space. Nico’s face fell slightly. 

“Why’s that? Hm?” He quirked his head to the side, slowly backing you up until you hit the wall. You did your best to control the raging fire in your chest or the way your skin crawled at his proximity. 

“Because you don’t mean it, at least not seriously mean it.” 

Nico placed his hands softly on your hips, gripping them into his own. “I mean what I say. I haven’t been playing with you, ya know.” His face now had a pink twinge as he looked down, “I’ve been trying to get you alone for weeks, but every time I say something you run away.” 

You looked away from him guiltily. He wasn’t making it up, you did try and find any possible reason to avoid him when he started getting flirty. Only because you knew he wasn't truly into you, or at least thought he wasn’t. 

Nico’s hand reached up to turn your head back towards him, your lips only inches apart. You could feel his shallow breaths fanning on your aching lips. It was tempting, being so close to him. He was a drug and you were trying so hard not to get addicted. 

“I only ran because,” You swallowed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Because why, schatzi?” 

A whimper almost escaped your throat at his choice of name. 

“Because I didn’t want to give in.” Your words hung around the both of you. You didn’t know where to look, nervous for Nico’s response.

“I do,” You darted your eyes into Nico’s at his low voice, “I want you to give in.” 

“Nico-”

“No,” He cut you off, lips now brushing against yours, “Don’t pretend you can’t feel it.”

I just want to give in.

Your hand reached up to Nico’s jaw, finally pulling him down to crash your lips together. The kiss was desperate, both of you hot and needy for each other. Nico groaned into the kiss, pulling your hips deeper into him. His tongue danced across your bottom lip, begging for entrance. Letting him in, you whined at the taste. 

You finally pulled away, breathless. 

“Wow.” That’s all you could muster. You could feel Nico’s racing heartbeat under your fingertips where your hand rested on his chest.

He rested his forehead against yours, nodding slightly. 

“Yeah, wow.” 

You nudged his head up, his doe-eyes peering into yours. You opened your mouth to say something but were quickly cut off, once again. 

“Before you say anything, just know that I’m serious about you. I think I have been since I saw you at that bar.” 

You bit the inside of your lip, “Promise?” 

Nico placed a sweet kiss on your nose, “Promise.” 

The moment was temporary, being ruined by a loud voice, “Cap and Mrs. Cap! Get your asses out here and quit fucking each other. I am NOT in the mood to be an uncle.” 

“Screw you, Dawson!”

[randombush3]

audentes fortuna iuvat

alexia putellas x reader

part one, part two

words: 9541

summary: alexia and you as posh + becks III

content warnings: there’s some (a lot of) cheating + postpartum depression. it’s more frustrating than sad though x

notes: this covers 2019-22(ish). It was SUPPOSED to be the last part. It’s not anymore. I’m gonna do a fourth to deal w the mess I have created in a more self-indulgent amount of words than the 3k i had planned. That will probably have smut in it 😛

“Y/n left me.” 

The limousine you are in is completely black, save for the white lines being measured out right next to you. 

“What?” says Jenni. 

“She left me,” Alexia says once more. The hotel room is a non-committal beige. They lie in the same bed, the older of the two welcoming her lost teammate wordlessly and without judgement. Tomorrow, they will return to Barcelona, losers yet another time. “She moved back to london. She took Nico.” 

“She can’t just take Nico, can she?” 

“Y/n, how’s Nico?” Your stomach turns, but whether that is provoked by the thought of the baby boy you left crying in your father’s arms or by the white powder outlining the rim of the woman’s nostrils, you don’t know. 

Your son’s creasing eyes, red face, and grabbing hands appear in front of you. He screams as you walk away. He doesn’t understand why he has not smelt Alexia in weeks, and he misses the comfort of home. 

Everyone waits for your answer. No one comments on the bags under your eyes. “He's fine,” you say with a smile. “He loves it here.”

“I think she is depressed,” Alexia tells Jenni, comforted by the arms wrapped around her waist, holding her close and tightly and reminding her that she is not as alone as you have made her feel. “She told me that she couldn’t be in Barcelona anymore, but she said that without giving me a chance to come with her. Her bags were packed before the conversation started — she might as well have called me from the plane.” 

“Are you angry at her?” 

“Yes.” 

Alexia thinks about it. 

“No.”

“No,” you say when they point at your very own line. The drug holds a place of both familiarity and hatred in your heart. The fine, white powder reminds you of greatness – of being the most successful girl group in the UK – but, also, of hospital visits. It’s not a past addiction, but it could have been. You light a cigarette instead, though it will make the vehicle reek. “I can't. I have a son.” 

“You’re not a saint.” They boo. “You’re allowed to have fun. I saw you the other day, and you had no qualms with any drugs then.” 

“No, I'm not a saint,” you reply. You regret that night — however little you remember. “But I am a mother.” 

“Is it that thing? Postpartum?” Jenni asks. “The baby blues are really shitty, I've heard, but they’re not supposed to cripple you. Maybe the relationship has other issues.” 

“I'm not angry at her, Jenni,” Alexia repeats. “I miss Nico. He looks like her. He has started to look a lot more like her now.”

“He would definitely suit those sparkly bralettes.” Jenni giggles at the thought. 

With an understandable lack of good humour, Alexia ponders something more realistic. “He would suit a Barcelona kit.” 

“He would be made for it. You are his mother.” 

“I'm not angry at her,” Alexia says for the third time, just to make herself believe it. Just to carve those words into her bones and tell herself that it isn’t anger, what she’s feeling. “I don't want to be angry at her. I think I'm going to see if I can move to arsenal.” 

“Don’t you dare.” 

“Well, I'm not angry at her.” 

“Alexia.” Jenni cups her cheek tenderly. “Ale.” She knows she shouldn’t. She’s not angry at you, and so there is no punishment needed. Not that… Not that kissing Jenni would ever be utilised as a weapon to get back at you. Or that she’d actually kiss her. 

“Daddy, I can't get him tonight. No, I don't want to stay over. Daddy, I…” You hate the baby. You hate yourself. You hate that Spain hasn’t done well, and that your fiancée is disappointed that nothing is how it was supposed to be. Alexia is probably lying awake in bed, missing her son, and missing you. You expect one of her teammates to call you soon, and tell her that she needs you. You’re her person. “I'm going to get some sleep and I'll pick him up tomorrow. Probably around lunchtime, okay?” 

“Alexia, bésame.” 

…

You had passively bought your house. It’s how property sale works when you’re a celebrity. People are always willing to do things for you if you know the price, and it never hurts to use your name to add a new flashy level to whatever stupid business they are running. It’s a mutual exploitation, to some extent. 

Highgate is beautiful. The house is beautiful. 

The reception room, with its high, decorated ceilings, is your favourite place to numbly take in the twisted jigsaw of your life when Nico has cried himself to sleep. The nursery is on the first floor. He is near enough for safety, but at a distance that allows you to regret all the mistakes you have made.

You watch him roll over onto his stomach, eyes trained on the baby monitor though your fingers graze the ivory keys of your new piano, attempting to compose something worthwhile. At this rate, your solo career is going to fail just like your relationship seems to be doing. 

Yesterday, while Alexia seemingly disappeared from the face of the Earth, you came out. It was an off-hand comment during the Graham Norton Show. A quick ‘my fiancée named him. She’s from Barcelona’ was all it took. You hope Alexia, wherever she may be, has heard about it. Jenni would have told her. You trust Jenni to be somewhat on your side because she always has been. 

The doorbell rings just as you sniffle, wiping away the tear that slips down your cheek. “Don’t be pathetic,” you mutter to yourself. “You didn’t pay five million pounds to sit here and cry. You chose to come back home.” 

Being in England – colder, drearier, lonelier England – has made you realise that your decision was not the right one. Or maybe it was. It has proven that you are as terrible a mother as you convinced yourself you were back in Barcelona, and it has also shoved the cavity Alexia leaves in your life when you refuse her entry right down your throat in the form of a constant lump and a dull stabbing in your chest whenever you think about anything past whether Nico has had anything to eat. You can’t even feed him properly, despite it being supposedly in your nature. You buy formula from the nearest Waitrose. 

The doorbell rings again. 

The insistence is not uncommon seeing as you are, at the minute, the English press’s number one target. You open the CCTV app on your phone so that you can decide whether or not to ignore the potential stalker, and your heart rate spikes when you see the hooded figure standing on the porch. Back to the door, it is not possible to determine the threat. A well-buried maternal instinct kicks in for once, and you ensure that Nico is still peacefully out cold before getting up to answer the door with the poker from the Victorian fireplace firmly in your grip. Just in case. 

You are a mother, in whatever capacity you have decided that role looks like, and so you undo the three latches on the door with brave, protective fingers. The baby monitor’s volume has increased, and the fuzz of white noise is audible if Nico were to make a sound. The vague repulsion at the idea of it all is only an aftertaste in your silent prayer for the hooded figure to not want to kill you. Some sick part of your brain imagines Nico dead, as well. It tortures you. 

The poker in your other hand, for the most fleeting of moments, is almost plunged into your chest. The imaginary, self-inflicted wound makes you think of the blood and how the baby upstairs would wail until someone found him. The grimace of annoyance on your lips is nothing new, but you have no more time to torment yourself because the doorbell is pressed again, rather impatiently. 

You open the door and the hooded figure is right in front of you. “He’s asleep,” you say, the Spanish foreign on your tongue. 

Alexia shrugs, and her hood falls down, revealing the brunette tendrils that hang from her slowly sinking bun. “I came for you,” she replies, so earnestly that it is as if nothing ever happened: past pain forgotten and replaced by sprouting memories of soft kisses and mornings where leaving was too hard to do. Some of them, you think, are not real. They don’t seem to be. Your blank stare is unsettling. You almost don’t believe her. “Can we talk?” she tries, and you notice the team-issued duffle on the tiled floor she is standing on. Then, from the pocket of her hoodie, she extracts a pastry box. The plastic window is filled with circles of different colours, and she holds out the macaroons to you as if to bribe her way into a home in which she is unsure she belongs to.

Stepping aside, leaning the poker against the wall by the door, you scratch at the bare skin of your neck. Alexia, while sweeping an arm down to collect her bag, fixes her gaze onto the ring you are wearing, and the diamond glistens with hope that this can all be fixed. “Would you like to come inside?” 

She swallows the whine of anguish that tears her heart open at the idea that this might never be her house to live in, too, and she follows you dutifully as you lead her through hallways far more luxurious than the flat in Barcelona could ever be. This is what you left her for – the person you are, no longer in worn clothing with messy hair, is quite the opposite of the woman with her back to her moments before she had to focus on football. The necklace draped on your sharpened collarbones is new, and she does not dare believe what she has been hearing is true. Yes, there are pictures, but she trusts you. She will always trust you. 

“Have a seat,” you say, gesturing to the wooden dining table. It is clean enough for her to determine that it is unused. Alexia places the macaroons in front of her, and aches at how you sit at the opposite end. 

“I…”

“I thought you were going to give me all the time that I needed.” It is a statement of distance, as if your location is not enough. 

Alexia, eyes widening at how unwelcome she suddenly feels, needs only to remind herself of the impending date of the wedding. It is beginning to loom uncomfortably, with the excitement of getting married drained out like a low tide on a deserted beach. “We have two weeks. If it isn’t going to happen, then you should tell me now. We have to give everyone notice so that they can cancel their flights.” Your silence spurs her on. “You will need to contact the wedding planner, because you refused to let me have a hand in any of it so I don’t even have their number. I’m sorry that you won’t be able to wear your dress. Vivienne Westwood is a big thing for you, I know. I’m sorry that it’s inconvenient.” 

“But Alexia,” you whisper, “I don’t not want to get married.” 

Her eyebrows furrow, head tilted slightly to the left. “I know. That is why I am saying this.” 

Your voice grows louder. “No, no. Sorry, that wasn’t the easiest thing to understand.” Across the dining table, your love that has faltered, that has hesitated and been reconsidered and been stamped down over the past month, extends towards her: its final destination, always and forever. Alexia feels it grab her by the throat, wrenching the words from her before she can even formulate a thought in response, and her body is so drawn to you, in such a powerful fashion, that she pushes her chair out from the table with a grating scrape and is stepping towards you with a finality that makes her wonder if she’ll ever leave your side. 

As she approaches, the idea that she is here becomes a little too real. You have played with the fantasy of it, of course, but the tenderness in her usually fierce eyes does not match the anger you had expected, and, in the most feeble fashion, you have never felt more apologetic in your life. 

“I’m so sorry,” you begin to say. Tears stream down your face with freed anguish, and the words are so simple yet they bear the weight of your entire soul. “I’m so sorry, darling. I made a mistake, and I have been met with the most crushing of realisations: I can’t do this without you, Alexia.” I still want to marry you, Alexia. 

The room seems to close in on your despair, attempting to bottle it, almost, and keep you trapped underneath a haze of emotions you don’t quite know how to sort through. “I… I’m beginning to hate him.” The confession hangs heavy over Alexia’s bowed head as she stands frozen in place, stuck in her journey towards you but unable to arrive. “I’m acutely aware of how cruel it is,” you continue, this next admission being what agonises you the most. It floods the room with guilt, and your voice trembles with self-condemnation that reigns harsher than any other voice in your head. 

“It’s ridiculous. I’m evil and I’m wrong, and I just feel like it is inherently in my nature to be like this, as though some fault has been built into me with warning signs we evidently ignored.” You struggle to breathe. “I wish I could take back the day we decided to have him,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper, lips doused in tears, skin searing with shame when Alexia cups your cheek with a strong, calloused hand. “He should not have to be stuck with me as a mother.” 

Your chest heaves, and you are finished. You have never verbalised it before now, and it is impossible to decide whether it has helped remove the lead lining of your heart where it has been bolstered against your will. Her other hand steadily rises to your face, but then, with only a second of hesitation, she is pulling you upwards and enveloping you in her embrace. You feel a little bit closer to her. “Mi amor,” Alexia murmurs, tone cracked with sorrow and regret. “Lo siento mucho. Desearía haber sabido, desearía haber estado allí para ti.” 

Gently, she tilts your face upwards to meet her gaze. “You are not evil and no estás equivocada. Estoy aquí ahora, y no te dejaré enfrentar esto sola nunca más.” You collapse into her. “I’m here, cariño, and I am not going anywhere.”

The sentiment is wonderful, and Alexia makes good on her word. 

When Nico begins to cry, the sound piercing through your choked sobs, Alexia realises she has missed all of her life with you. Being separated and being apart due to work, she now knows, are two excruciatingly different things. The whiny wails from upstairs visibly jar you, though you pull away from Alexia to attend to him. “I will do it,” she declares, though her firmness is not mean. “Sit down. Eat the macaroons – they’re… ‘to die for’?” You nod with instinctive encouragement. “Sí. They’re to die for. Try. Jenni says that the pink ones are the best.” 

“Jenni picked them out?” you ask with a briefly regained humour, eyebrows raising. “Had to get your friend to choose your apology gift?” In truth, neither of you know what Alexia would be apologising for, but Nico’s crying grows more incessant and Alexia is climbing the carpeted staircase before the topic can be discussed. 

Alexia reaches her son with tears brimming in her eyes. The failure of Spain at the World Cup is amplified by the idea that she has disappointed him, though he does not yet possess the tools to pledge his allegiance to her country. In fact, Nico has been sleeping in Manchester United attire (your father has been his primary carer of late, and he does not charge you money, so the price is obviously Alexia’s sanity). She is more than glad to smell his nappy, and delighted about the opportunity to change him into something less hideous. 

“Mama loves you so much,” she tells him as she manoeuvres his chubby legs into a plain, inoffensive onesie. “I promise, petit. I am going to help her, okay? And we are going to get through this together.” Alexia forgets about the taste of Jenni’s lips and the heat between them. “Mama just doesn’t see the direction she is going in. It is like her eyes are covered, and she is telling herself that she is walking down the wrong path, but this is not true. You are the most special thing in the world to us. You are the sunrise, the sunset, and the hours of the day.” 

She pauses to stand him up on his tiny feet, hands hoisted underneath his armpits. He is heavier than when she last held him, but she is stronger than before, too. Women’s football is growing, along with her muscles. Nico babbles out a vague reply, but Alexia hears what he is trying to say. “I agree. We’ll be alright.” And, with all her heart, it rings true. 

…

The following day, she calls the doctor for you, script written out on a piece of paper in front of her, translated perfectly so that her concern does not waver the information she needs to tell the receptionist. The clinic is famous and discreet, and they are quick to prescribe you antidepressants before the week draws to a close. You won’t be able to drink at your wedding, and everyone might think you are pregnant again, but Alexia reassures you that it will be worth it. 

Wrapped up in your own bubble, the three of you enjoy London in a way that isn’t possible in Barcelona. 

Here, Alexia has no commitment to football. There are no training sessions she must rush off to, there are no teammates to pry, and no one else to interfere with your private little routine. You quite like it, and she does too. It is only temporary, before you fly out to Menorca and hand Nico off to Eli in order to enjoy your respective bachelorette parties and then, in exactly seven days, your wedding itself. 

“You’re still smoking,” Alexia says disapprovingly, the sleep in her voice enough to make you feel a pang of guilt. It’s late at night when Nico has finally been soothed from his aching gums, and she has been able to climb back into bed expecting to find you asleep already. “Why are you awake?” 

“I’m still smoking,” you tell her. She sighs at the way you parrot her words, but presses an affectionate kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulders despite the lingering smell of cigarettes. “If I can’t drink, I’m going to smoke. This is Hollywood.” 

“This is Highgate.” Her accent curls around the name with something a little too foreign for her to ever consider this place home. “Why are you awake?” she repeats. 

You look down at the open notebook in your lap, the pages either blank or full of crossed-out lyrics. “He was so loud, but I can’t seem to write anything either so, really, it has been quite redundant.”

“I had to get a glass full of ice and hold it to my fingers so that I could help him. I could have lost some very important assets, but it seemed to do the trick.” He’s teething. You’re telling yourself that the antidepressants are little pills of miracle, and have kicked in already. “Feel.” She presses two freezing fingers to your cheek, and you gasp, flinching away from her. 

“There’s a teething ring downstairs, you know,” you tell her. She shrugs. Maybe it isn’t clean. “Don’t give yourself frostbite. I happen to quite like your fingers.” 

Alexia’s smirk is beyond suggestive, and her lips hit your neck once more with an entirely different heat to them. “Yeah?” You push her head away. “I bet it would feel good. Nice and cold.” 

“You’re delirious.” 

She continues to kiss you. “I don’t know what that means,” she mumbles into your neck, until her lips reach your face and she is near climbing into your lap – notebook long pushed onto the floor. “Dímelo en español.” 

“No lo sé.” 

“Ah. Una palabra inteligente.” 

“Claro.” 

She laughs into the kiss she presses against your lips. She never has never felt like this with anyone else. Never this relaxed, or loved, or safe. “Me vas a matar con tu inteligencia y voy a sentirme estúpida para siempre.” 

“I love you,” you state softly. “I love every part of you.” Alexia, in that moment, decides to never do what she did with Jenni again, and to never break your heart by informing you of her betrayal. 

…

You’re married. 

You’re married to Alexia, a woman who bears the beauty of a goddess and the strength and will of someone who could capture the sun and tame the fire that rages on its surface. 

You admire her as she sleeps so peacefully beside you, tanned skin warmed by the sunlight streaming in through the large windows of the hotel room. Later, you will get on the ferry, go back to Barcelona, and then fly to Capri for three days alone before Alexia’s preseason starts. Aside from a few meetings with Dave, you theoretically aren’t swamped with anything. You’ll be joining her in her city with Nico with a bit more permanence than last time. 

Alexia buries her face in the covers, crawling into your open arms the minute the sunlight rouses her. “Everything is sore,” she groans, her bare skin slightly sticking to yours, the sweat from last night not yet gone. 

“What happened to ‘mi vida, one more time won’t hurt’?” you tease, impersonating her heavy accent over your English with enough drama to get her to elicit another grumble. This time, it’s something about being bullied. “Darling, we have to get up. We’re having breakfast with our parents, and apparently Nico has been upset that we got a night to ourselves.” 

“Pobrecito,” she replies with a newfound level of English sarcasm. She spent the wedding reception avoiding the dance floor, engaged in a long conversation with your father. The topics spanned over most areas of life, and briefly touched upon how you are doing now. Alexia, with much pleasure, confirmed the improvement, however miniscule it has been. She is very proud of you, and he is too. “I only want one thing for breakfast.” 

Her hands begin to roam, the band of her wedding ring hitting your pubic bone. “Mi vida, one more time won’t hurt,” she mocks you from before but in her sexier, Spanish husk, sucking at your collarbone, straddling your waist.

You replace your near moan with a thoughtful hum. “I really want pancakes. Do you think they’ll make me some?”

Downstairs, where it is brighter and impossible to conceal the hickeys on both of your necks, you greet your parents, brother, Anya, and Gio. Alexia’s mother, her sister, and Jenni are sitting at the table, too. Your baby is pretending he isn’t teething, and grinning like an angel. 

“How’s married life?” Anya asks as you take a seat opposite her, Alexia to your right. The table has a gradient of bilingualism, but Gio discovered that she picks up Spanish quite easily considering she can already speak one romance language. “We’ve already found, like, four articles talking about it.” 

“How?” you ask, but you are not offended. 

Gio shrugs. “Drones, I guess. Nothing bad, though. Some speculation about the other bride – if the article does mention that. Most talk is on the dress.” It was a bloody good dress. “And I suspect that there’ll be a juicy little question about who was your Maid of Honour.” 

“Don’t be salty,” you tell her. The MOH issue was sorted out years ago – perhaps 2015 – when you binged Friends together despite having watched it thousands of times before. Anya has been yours, Gio will be hers, and you will be Gio’s. And they say trios never work. 

“I left Mia with her dad for this.” 

“You shouldn’t have had a baby with a man-slag,” Anya says with a snort, enjoying her second mimosa and Gio’s grimace at the idea of her daughter having to put up with her father’s revolving door of one-night-stands. “You’re one to make terrible decisions. At least our girl over here’s married someone who looks at her like she’s hung the moon.” 

Alexia turns to you with a smile, as if on cue, with Nico in her lap. You glance at his rounded cheeks and shining eyes, looking back up at your friends as though to check they are still there. Alexia leans forwards so that she can whisper in your ear. “Te amo. Nico, también. Mi familia es perfecta.” 

…

Returning to Barcelona comes with one negotiated condition on your part. You buy a bigger apartment, where there is space for an office and extra bedrooms. Alexia says her teammates will be taking the piss out of her grand new place the minute she sees it, but she is more than content to contribute to the finances with her new-and-improved salary for this season. “It’s weird to think that I’m from Mollet,” murmurs Alexia, standing in the middle of the large lounge area, surrounded by boxes. Most are from your old flat, but a few have been flown in from London. Alexia wanted you to have your Grammy with you. “This place is so fancy.” 

“It’s half of what the men’s team get,” you remind her, holding Nico with care as he gnaws away on a frozen carrot. His saliva drips onto you, but the antidepressants are working, and the therapy has been effective enough for you to start taking childcare in turns. (You had tried to previously, but Alexia wanted you to focus on yourself, knowing that things will change for all of you once the season started.) “Hey.” You place your hand on her shoulder. She tickles Nico’s chin. “We deserve this. You deserve this. Why don’t you host one of your team’s dinners? I’ll take Nico round to your mum’s – God knows she’d love to shove some food down my throat, too.” 

She shakes her head, strands of brown unstraightened due to the stress of the move and falling out of her bun with a determination to defy her hair bobble. “They would kill me if I did it without you. They’re all far too grateful that you invited Taylor Swift to our wedding.” 

“She’s a friend.” If you hadn’t been distracted by various other happenings that night, you’d have clocked that Alexia’s side of the guests were completely up to their ears in celebrities they’d never expected to meet. “Okay, so do you want me to stay here?” 

“I always want you to stay here,” she answers. 

“Not what I meant.” 

“I won’t take it back.” 

Nico babbles an incoherent yet cutely Spanish-y noise, though his words are getting closer to being said at the old age of eight months. Then, suddenly, something in him clicks. “Mama,” he squeals, his little fist scrunching up the fabric of your t-shirt. “Mamama.”

“Nicolau!” Alexia replies with just as much enthusiasm, cupping his cheeks. She kisses his nose, and then his forehead, and then his chubby knees and socked feet. “Nicolau, sí, la mama et té a las mans! Bon noi, el meu bon i intel·ligent noi.” 

“Does that count?” 

“Mama,” Nico repeats, tugging your earlobe. “Mama. Mama.” It is easy to forget about the (lessening) resentment you harbour when he speaks. Alexia gets him to say it as many times as she can before he goes back to his carrot, but, even then, the two of you stay in that spot, marvelling at your creation. 

Slowly, she turns around in a circle, absorbing the plain walls and towers of boxes. “This is going to be good. Life is going to be good,” you declare with such a firmness that it has to be true. “Darling, let’s get to unpacking and then we can think about a date for this dinner party.” 

“We are going to plan the party?” She raises her eyebrows at you. “Is this party going to start at five o’clock?” 

“Not all of us shit yellow and red.” (In a national sense – you’d have haemorrhoids for United any day of the week.)

Alexia takes Nico off you, in a show of cultural dominance. You’re actually outnumbered, considering he isn’t a British Citizen, and though he shares no DNA with your wife, he has inherited the same ability to narrow his eyes just enough to serve absolute cunt whenever he so pleases. If you weren’t feeling so ganged up on, you’d be a little impressed. “Nico y yo vamos a hacer croquetas de jamón. Adiós.” 

“Darling, the kitchen isn’t–” But you cut yourself off, deciding that she can discover that on her own, along with the criminally empty fridge. You don’t hide your smugness at all when she finds you in your almost-finished bedroom, wearing a look of utter disappointment and mumbling out a heartbroken request for a food delivery as soon as possible. 

…

November marks three years of being together and, also, four weeks of having Alexia’s ‘DNA’ – a pomeranian called Nala, whose Instagram account is run by her favourite parent after you called it silly and told your wife you’d much rather attend to your own seventeen million followers. 

Towards the end of the month, after a well-spent morning and then a family outing to Barcelona Zoo, Alexia meets Jenni Hermoso in a restaurant in what Jenni calls ‘your new rich-people neighbourhood’ in her text to Alexia.

Alexia, really and truly, is happy to have her best friend back in Barcelona. She missed her last year, when Jenni had returned to Atleti, and that separation maybe made what happened the night Spain was knocked out of the World Cup just that bit more understandable. “You’re a Culer, no matter how hard you try to fight it,” Alexia had said when she had climbed back into her own bed, not wanting to fall asleep in Jenni’s arms. “It was terrible to not have Y/n or you.” 

You and Jenni: Alexia’s people. 

“How’s your wife?” Jenni asks with a grin, two glasses of wine into a pleasant evening at an expensive restaurant. “You’ve left her with Nico, so something must be working.” 

In truth, you have been determined to get better. There were articles released not long after the photos of your wedding were circulated, and those speculated a lot about how you are finding motherhood. The baby pictured, captured by long-range lenses and invasive drones, was the world’s first glimpse at what Nico Putellas L/n looks like, and reminded many of them that you had a child to care for when in London, yet were frequently spotted at nightclubs and parties. You rise to most challenges, however, and find it a lot easier to adapt to weekly therapy sessions and pills every morning when you have a wrongful image to disprove. 

“It’s as if it never happened,” Alexia says, both with pride and surprise. “She now seeks to spend time with him. She takes him with her to the recording studio – the album’s coming along well.” It’s your first on your own. Nico plays with one mixing desk, while Dave (flown in from London with the promise that the Barcelona sun will do wonders for his wife’s misery) plays with another. “And… Jenni, we’ve been talking. The clinic that we used for Nico asked us if we wanted to reserve sperm when we first had him, and now they have called asking if now is a good time. I think… I think that she is really considering it. She told me yesterday that her therapist wants me to sit in on the next session, so we can go over how we can make this time different.” 

Jenni frowns, which is not what the woman opposite her had expected at all. “Why are you two having more children? You’re only twenty-five, Ale. Isn’t this going to affect your career?” 

“The men do it all the time.” She’s done a spot of research. They are younger than her when their girlfriends start getting pregnant, and they continue to play with the added admiration that they are fathers as well. 

“Yes, but they have the benefit of getting paid millions. They don’t have to fight with their federation for pitches or pay, and they can focus on football without their career sparking controversy for even existing.” 

“Then my children will grow up with a mother who fights for change.” 

“Or they grow up with a pop star who only wants things she cannot have and a footballer who can’t spend any time with them because she is too busy speaking at various conventions so that the next league match isn’t cancelled.”

“Jenni, do you think your opinion would be different if Y/n was a man?” 

This elicits laughter from the other woman, who rolls her eyes in a way that can only be described as condescending. “Alexia, you’re forgetting that I’m a lesbian too, which is a magnificent feat.” Jenni references the kiss they shared, and what happened after that. “But, no. I don’t. I want you to be the greatest footballer in the world, and you want that too. What are you going to do when Y/n tells you she wants to move back to England? Are you going to give up your future here for her?” 

The waiter interrupts briefly, collecting their empty plates and carting them off with a mission to retrieve the bill after a sharply declined offer for the dessert menu. “You don’t even know if that will happen,” Alexia scoffs, though she is a little sad that her exciting news hasn’t been well-received. “I was going to say that I’d think about the name Jennifer if it ends up being a girl, but now I’m leaning more towards María…”

She is kicked under the table, and she has to hold in her cry of pain because this restaurant is one of your favourite places to eat. “Mapi cannot have this victory over me. She’d be insufferable. Ale, you simply aren’t allowed to do that.” There’s another kick, but it is more playful this time. 

Alexia laughs, smiling and thankful that the tension has diffused. “I’m only joking. Y/n has a list scribbled in the back of her lyric book. She’ll probably be called Elena.” That is much more acceptable to Jenni’s ears, and she files that information away for next year, when she’ll tell Mapi that Alexia doesn’t like her name.

…

It works. Alexia and you are lucky. The doctor tells Alexia that, if she were a man, the two of you would have to be extremely careful. Your wife marvels at your ability to destroy your body and stay fertile, but she supposes that you are not the kind of woman to be a lesbian. Sometimes, she wakes up in a cold sweat, believing that you have changed your mind and left her. 

The New Year is a fresh start. Alexia decides to fix the (not so) hidden cracks in your relationship. She confides in her newly-acquired therapist. She may have made a mistake once; the secret is sandwiched between her worries about your susceptibility to depression and how Nico is a decided food critic. 

Though the therapist, a lovely bilingual woman named Sofía, raises her eyebrows, she does not pry. She slides a paper calling card over to Alexia. The paper squeaks along the coffee table between the two comfortable armchairs of the office. “I specialise in couples. Seeing as your wife is already a client of mine, I think you should consider a joint session.” Alexia is new to the idea of mental health. Before, she had been too focused on football to care about it. Even when her father died, any professional she spoke to was only hearing how her mind worked because she knew it was what was best for her performance. “And, Alexia.” She looks up at the therapist with a small, nervous smile. “Congratulations on the pregnancy. I am sure Nico will make a wonderful older brother.” 

Morning sickness drags you out of your shared bed most days. 

Alexia asks you about couples’ therapy when you have finished your dry-heaving one morning. 

“I mean,” you begin before pausing, gulping down the sour taste in your mouth and hoping nothing else is trying to hit the toilet water until tomorrow. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologise.” She is dressed in her training kit, but she slings her jumper over your shoulders as soon as you shiver. “Do you think it’s a good idea?” 

“It would do no harm.” As long as Sofía does not bring up Alexia’s confession, your statement will ring true. “You book the appointment. It’ll be easier to work around your schedule that way.” 

“When are you flying back to London?” Her question is not filled with hatred for the city, but with resignation to the fact that your job involves you being stretched between here and there. 

“Not until next month. I thought that I could take Nico to an away game with my dad if I got a flight for Saturday. The rest of the week would be interviews and photoshoots.” 

“How’s the album doing?” 

So far, your songs are only written when Alexia has paid you enough attention to swirl your thoughts and blur your vision. It is in these moments that the lingering, sinking weight inside of you dissipates. “Dave remains hopeful. It won’t fail, but I need it to be better than what we currently have.” 

Shamelessly, Alexia is aware of her effect on your songs. She smirks; “Alba has been begging to babysit, you know.” With no care for your current state, Alexia’s eyes rake up and down your body. You grow embarrassed by how you are slumped over the toilet, and how she is standing above you as though she runs your world. “You look beautiful, mi amor,” she murmurs as you bashfully duck your head between your bent arms. 

“You’re a flirt.” It feels too late for her to still be in the flat. “And you’re going to miss training if you don’t get a move on. There are eggs in the fridge, and Nico definitely liked the omelette you made him a few days ago. He’ll be waking up soon.”

A small sigh escapes the midfielder’s lips, but the prospect of the things she loves most in the world appearing in her life consecutively is enough to convince her to pad her way out the bathroom, swanning into the corridor with a little grin on her face as she sings out ‘bon dia’ to an impressively multilingual toddler and heads into the kitchen with the domestic intention of getting breakfast started. She leaves an omelette out for you, which you attack shortly after Alexia and Nico disappear into their daily routine. She drops him off at preschool, and you pick him up a few hours later, taking him first for lunch with Alba, and then to the studio. 

You come home to a showered Alexia who is memorising her most recent match. She lets Nico slide into her lap without hesitation, but she stays focused on the football even when he tugs on the strands of hair falling out of ponytail. You marvel at the idea of having enough room in your heart for so much love. You decide that you are not like Alexia, though it is not necessarily a terrible thing. A further observation from watching your wife settle her son with a calm, muttered Catalan telling-off, coaxing him into loving football as though he does not already, is that you are so very content with your life at the moment. 

But 2020 kind of sucks. 

For the entire world. 

You’re cut off from your home in any other manner than a digital one, and being stuck in a luxurious penthouse in Barcelona isn’t the worst fate, but it really isn’t ideal. 

Elena, however, has the benefit of coming into the world with ever (physically) present parents, who could recite the java script for Zoom given that they spend hours on therapy calls. Elena, bright and smiley and the picture of her mother, spends the first few months of her life in a happy, happy family, protected by an entire football team and a fierce older brother. (And a yappy Pomerianian called Nala.) 

“Y/n doesn’t like the name María,” Jenni tells Mapi when Alexia sends the first picture of your new addition to the Barcelona group chat. 

“The next baby is going to be a Jennifer,” Mapi says, to both the forward and the unimpressed midfielder walking a few paces in front of such a silly conversation. “For that, I can only feel sorry for her.” 

…

The routine changes the following year. 

It starts with an abrupt but expected conversation. One that Alexia has been dreading. 

Your album – the first one that is just you – was released two months ago, and it has done too well. Selfishly, Alexia had hoped it would fail. You have enough money, and she is earning more and more each season. Success, unfortunately, means that this little life can no longer exist. Or can it? 

“I have to do it,” you whisper to her, tears in your eyes though the smell of sex still lingers. The quietness of a child-free apartment allows for you to hear her gulp. “It’ll be different this time, darling, but I can’t be here anymore. I can’t fly out to London every few days. I can’t leave you with a five-month-old and a toddler when you are training every day and playing matches every weekend. It’s not fair on anyone.” 

Alexia kisses your bare shoulder, hands slipping round your waist as she pulls your sweaty body into her. Her chest presses against your back, but she is only behind you in this bed. She does not agree with you. She does not support it. But, like she always does, she bites her tongue. “If that’s what you want,” she replies, and part of you dies with the thought that she does not really care. “I love you. I want what’s best for you. For us.” And she tells Jenni all about it when she goes to see her a week later – the flimsy excuse of meeting a childhood friend for dinner enough to wrap a cloth around your eyes and leave you at home with a screaming toddler and a baby whose only flaw is that she grows distraught the moment she is put down. 

In the dimly lit living room, the tension hangs thick in the air. You lock eyes. “Why can't you just move with us? Everyone will want you, darling, and life would be easier,” you plead, a month down the line. The house in Highgate has been readied for your more permanent return. 

Alexia takes a deep breath, her gaze unwavering. “Why can't you get it into your head that I'm not leaving Spain or Barcelona? This is my home.”

“What about the children? School? Life? My career? Does it mean nothing to you?”

Her eyes soften. Your heart breaks, and the piece of you that has already died somehow dies again. “I'm thinking of the children. All the time, I think of them. About the reputation of my name – their name. Putellas, the greatest in the world, or Putellas, the one with potential wasted at West Ham?”

“You're being selfish, Lex,” you snap. “This is an opportunity for all of us, not just me. Think about their future!”

“Their future is here, in the culture they know, the languages they speak. I won't strip them of their identity for the sake of a 'better' life. And my career? I've worked too hard to build what I have here. I won't throw it away.” I don’t want to throw it away. Underscored by Don’t leave me again. 

The room echoes with the weight of her voice. “Their identity comes from both of us.” It’s too final for either of your liking. Elena begins to cry in her cot. “I want to try it. I want you to be open to trying it.” 

She gestures to the suitcases by the door. “Trying it and doing it are two different things. You’re taking them from me!” 

“You’re probably going to love life without them anyway!” you shout. You feel like the crying baby, except the tears rolling down your cheeks carry much more suffering than hers. “You’ll – what? You’ll go out with your friends, and you’ll be able to go to the gym whenever you want. No arguing, no crying, no toddler to entertain, no nappies to change. You never wanted children. I forced it upon you. I regret it, and I’m sorry. We’ll go.”

“Don’t go.” 

I don’t want you to go.

“I have to.” 

You turn your back to her as you fly through the corridor, prepared to console Elena in a taxi. Alexia slips her ring off her finger, and clutches it in her palm instead. Desperately, she searches for a solution. There is nothing within her reach, not even you. 

… 

She is an island amongst a sea of happy people. She is going to be the greatest footballer in the world. It kills her to realise that she can now focus on football. 

Nico starts nursery, attending the same school you once did. He adjusts to life in London seamlessly, and Elena does not seem to care either way. He learns more English every day, and his other mother calls him nightly to read to him. 

With childcare more than sorted, you are free to be interviewed, pictured, and invited to events. You rake in the publicity, especially after laying so slow over the course of the lockdown in Spain. 

“Alexia.” Jenni’s hands knead her tight shoulders, partly teasing her. Alexia wears a frown, eyebrows knitting together with an emotion she’s not sure she can name. “Ale, it’s the same game as always. Nothing has changed.” 

“I know,” she murmurs. “I don’t understand why I feel like this.” She has continued to speak to Sofía, though your joint sessions have now come to a halt while you spend your time doubling as a singer and model. The therapist, try as she might, cannot evaluate the situation effectively enough. Eli and Alba have both tried to help, hoping that weekly dinners and the constant reminder about the invention of aeroplanes would ease the turmoil of Alexia’s mind. It does not. “I am so alone, Jenni.”

Nala is too small to fill the emptiness of the flat. Screens don’t allow for her to kiss you, or play with Nico. She is scared she will miss Elena’s first words. 

“You don’t have to be.” 

It only takes a month for Alexia to break, and it sort of works. 

In Jenni’s bed, it works. Hips keening, soft pants falling from her mouth. 

Quiet moans that stay locked in Jenni’s apartment. 

Each time Alexia leaves, though Jenni repeatedly requests that she stays, she walks out as half a woman. She blinks back her tears and she checks her phone. When she calls you – not a video call – you are never any the wiser to the scratches down her back. 

Alexia remains an island, but the sand beaches are tainted with the arrival of someone else. 

In this way, she is functional. 

She can do sex. She can deal with borderline romance. She can fill the space that you are tearing open with every passing minute spent in that god-awful country you insist on calling home. She can fix it a little bit with Jenni. 

She tells herself that it does not mean anything more than a bandage means to a wound. Who wears the bandage once the gash has healed? 

Where does she put the used bandage? 

Why is she focused on bandages?! She’s having an affair. It’s not an affair! (It is.) Alexia doesn’t… quite… wanttoadmititjustyet.

…

The buzz of your phone is the final push that gets you to conclude the current interview you are trapped in. Before checking what the notification is, you glance at the time. You have half an hour before you need to pick up Nico, and your parents said they would drop Elena home once they returned from London Zoo. 

Alexia: Jenni has had a really good idea 

It’s an intriguing text amongst the more practical ones that oil the mechanics of managing the distance. Tonight, Barcelona play their last match of the season. After this, she’ll be flying out to London. You have missed her. The last time you saw her in person was after Barcelona embarrassed Chelsea in Gothenburg. Elated and filled with pride, it was incredibly nice to have the biggest room in the hotel to yourselves. Her medal was almost as beautiful as her. 

You: Go on…

Alexia: Just draw a heart on Nico’s hand from me porfa. You’ll see. 

You slide into the driver’s seat of your newest self-indulgent car; a Porsche. Momentarily distracted by a camera flash, your turn onto the main road is a little risky, but you manage to make it to the school in time to collect your son. 

“Was he good?” you ask his teacher as she hands you Nico’s book bag. You take in the sight of him: hair messy, school uniform stained though they require the little ones to wear aprons for most of the day. “It’s a little different here. I’m hoping that he’s enjoying himself.” 

“Our new assistant is from Spain,” says the teacher with a small, tired smile, batting her long eyelashes at you. “We had to pry him off her.” 

You let out a laugh. “He misses his mum.” 

“He’s extremely intelligent. He knew to speak Spanish to her and English to us.” Though your grasp of Spanish is near-fluent after such reluctance from your wife to try English, you know that the two-year-old has a talent for juggling the three languages he is growing up around. You’re proud of him. “You shouldn’t worry about him. And, speaking of, we have a parents’ coffee morning just around the corner. It’s always great for the parents to get along – it helps the school feel even more like a family. Will it just be you attending?” Nico’s teacher is around your age, and you can smell her rose perfume that mingles with the soft hint of ready-mixed paint. She has deep, brown eyes, and she is definitely flirting with you. 

“Next week, right? I’ll have to check with my wife.” 

It’s then that a toddler-sized hand grips your fingers and tugs. “Mama, me voy,” he groans; something akin to Alexia’s impatience. It reminds you of when you used to go shopping and she’d herd you out with the threat of getting in the car and driving away. “Venga.” 

“One sec, sweetheart.” There are countless ways in which you miss Alexia. “My wife and I would love to come.” 

Her smile does not falter on her lips, but there is a greyish disappointment that dulls the warmth of her irises. You smile as you turn your back and lead Nico to the car. You are so excited for Alexia to complete the broken puzzle. 

You melt when she kisses the heart drawn onto her hand when celebrating her goal. Nico copies her, lips pursing and sloppily mimicking the action on a similar heart. “For you, sweetheart,” you tell him as he settles back into your side, careful not to jostle Elena who has fallen asleep on your chest (the therapist did wonders for you). 

“It was for you,” Jenni tells Alexia after the match. Her goal is now serving as the move Alexia feared she’d make. They have changed and been massaged and done the media the are required to do (women’s football is growing): they are free to roam Barcelona if they so wish. 

Her flight is tomorrow evening – “I have a flight tomorrow evening.” 

“Come over tonight.” It isn’t a question, yet it is not quite a command. Mapi passes the two of them, eyes narrowing at the way Jenni has wrapped her hand around Alexia’s wrist. The defender is aware that something is going on, though it breaks her heart to imagine Alexia ever doing that to you. Not knowing they are being watched, Alexia steps in; cups Jenni’s face, brushes her cheekbone with a stroke of her thumb Mapi knows is meant for her wife. Mapi’s stomach lurches. She feels sick. 

“I need to…” It’s not a ‘no’. “Jenni.” She hates that it is not a ‘no’. 

“Ale.” There’s a beat. Mapi blinks twice, shakes her head, and backs away. “I’ll miss you, you know?” 

… 

Jenni doesn’t seem to mind when, the next day, blurry pictures of you on a family outing make rounds through the tabloids she usually doesn’t read. The fact that, up until now, no one has known that your wife is Alexia Putellas has no effect on her. She was stupid for thinking the last six months meant something. Winning together, losing together. Sleeping together. 

In this deal, Alexia has fucked over both women who love her. Except, you don’t know. She hasn’t told you, though Jenni had hoped for it secretly – hoped Alexia chose her – and it is obvious. Obvious to Jenni, who is well acquainted with the blonde hair in the wings of your concert at the O2. Obvious to Jenni, who refuses to think of herself as the other woman. 

She consults Mapi. 

Mapi, who she has come to shamefully realise already knows. 

“I can’t believe the two of you.” The defender is clear in her distaste and disappointment and, honestly, her disgust. “But I am not going to be the one to break that poor girl’s heart.” 

“I’m not asking you to.” 

What is she asking? What does she want from this utterly useless conversation? 

“Mapi.” Jenni closes her eyes, but she sees two faces instead of darkness. Nico. Elena. She’s Elena’s godmother. You decided that – convinced Alexia to choose her best friend over her younger sister, told your wife that there’d be another for Alba to corrupt. “Mapi, I love her. I don’t know what to do.” 

“She loves her wife.” The next sentence proceeds to brutally remind Jenni who that isn’t. “Tell her you’re done. Find someone else. Anyone but her.” 

That is Jenni’s resolve, because she knows that Mapi is right. 

… 

June, July, and August pass with bliss. 

Everyone says that you are a beautiful couple with beautiful children. Alexia beams with pride as she flaunts her practised English, and gladly claims ownership of Nico when he wins a prize on speech day. Every child in Reception is awarded something but that doesn’t stop her from boasting.

She explores the country with the children while you shack up in the recording studio, and brings hugs and kisses (and Red Bull) every evening after dinner. The visits are what reminds you of the sun Alexia brings, especially as the warmth follows her from Barcelona and London is blessed with golden days. Dog days. 

“This isn’t permanent.” Alexia looks up from her phone, comfortable in your bed. The house in Highgate has flecks of Spain woven into the decor now, and you like it that way. 

You climb into the bed beside her, and her arm lifts so that you can snuggle into her chiselled stomach (wow, she has been working hard this season). “What’s Jenni saying?” you ask, following your statement and hoping you’ll get her attention. She presses her phone screen into the duvet before you can translate the message – it is too long of a paragraph for you to handle. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you that this isn’t permanent.” 

Alexia, over the past few months, has been the most affectionate, loving, amazing person with the same smile and giggle you married. You thought she had disappeared and was replaced with stern, career-focused Alexia Putellas, jugadora del fútbol. You were wrong. 

“I’m thinking January is when we’ll come back. Nico’s English will survive.” Your parents are going travelling. They’ve never been on the Orient Express before. “I want to be with you.” 

It is a good thing Jenni has just broken up with her. 

“I love you,” you continue. “So much.” 

Alexia hums. Her heart breaks, and she does not know for whom. “¿En serio?” She is happy, she thinks. Certainly, she is glad that the four of you will be reunited. 

 You are. 

January 2022 ruins things for Jenni Hermoso. She calls Pachuca back. 

[luvhughes43]

instagram official | blake hughes au

blake hughes masterlist

blake.hughes

liked by nicohischier, jackhughes, trevorzegras, and others

blake.hughes life lately :)

view all comments

jackhughes suit jacket looks a lil familiar...🧐

blake.hughes oh really?😁

nicohischier whoevers jacket it is has really nice taste! liked by blake.hughes

trevorzegras 🤭🤭

user00 wtf are u giggling about?

blake.hughes wait trev do u know?

trevorzegras yea jack called a mandatory ft a few days ago

blake.hughes omfg??

trevorzegras im happy for u goldie!

user01 BLAKE WATCH OUT!!! THERES A MAN BESIDE U!!

user02 blakes got a bf? omg im so happy for her

user03 monroes the cutest cat omfg

user04 wait can we acknowledge trevor calling blake goldie? what is that

user05 its been a thing for awhile now! he started calling her goldie after she won olympic gold! he mentioned it in an interview or something i think

user04 NICO NICO NICO

nicohischier

liked by blake.hughes, john.marino97, trevorzegras, and others

nicohischier Happy Holidays!😈❤️

view all comments

jackhughes 🔥🔥

blake.hughes 😈

user09 using the "😈" when soft launching ur teammates sister is crazy

user10 waittt who's he dating?

user09 streets are saying hes dating blake hughes! she recently posted a soft launch AND she was caught liking thirst edits of him😭

user10 oh theyre so unserious😭😭

comments on this post is limited

blake.hughes added to their story !

nicohischier posted one minute ago!

liked by jackhughes, blake.hughes, lhughes_06, and others

nicohischier the best december :)

tagged: blake.hughes

view all comments

blake.hughes :)

blake.hughes you make me beyond happy

nicohischier Du bringst mich zum Lächeln❤️

jackhughes nice but was the last pic really necessary?

nicohischer my bad

lhughes_06 does this mean I get to call you dad now?

jackhughes no

_quinnhughes no

user17 BLAKE???????

user18 OMFG ITS CONFIRMED THEY BOTH POSTED

user18 at the same time too like thats soulmatism😭🙏

user19 nicos reply in german... im gonna kms theyre so cute wtf😭

blake.hughes posted 1 minute ago!

liked by nicohischier, _quinnhughes, trevorzegras and others

blake.hughes my nico<3

tagged: nicohischier

view all comments

jackhughes … yours🤨

jackhughes pretty sure he was mine first bud

blake.hughes right but out of the two of us, who does he spend his nights with?

jackhughes WOAH?????

trevorzegras i think he’s ALL of ours

jackhughes no

blake.hughes no

nicohischier my girl❤️

trevorzegras 👽🍿

blake.hughes ok

_quinnhughes FINALLY🙏

jackhughes ?

_quinnhughes i’ve been waited for MONTHS for them to go ig official you don’t understand

jackhughes how tf did you find out so soon? Dawson literally told me like 2 weeks ago

_quinnhughes I know everything.

jackhughes alright mr. “i don’t really consider myself someone who knows what’s going on”

_quinnhughes they probably could’ve made out in front of you and you still wouldn’t have realized… mr. “I didn’t know there was a city in New Jersey”

trevorzegras Trevor ZEGRAS🧡

user20 in every pic of blake and nico hes always touching her in some way... like he loves her so bad they are my parents

user21 THE WAY BLAKE LOOKS AT NICO IM GOING TO JUMP OFF A BRIDGE THEY LOOK SO IN LOVE

user22 oh to be a fly on the wall when jack found out about the news...

user23 bro was definitely pouting he has such intense middle child syndrome

user24 MY NICO... MY GIRL??? ?OHHH ITS SO OVER THEY'RE SO DAMN CUTE

user25 i'm so glad that blake is happy after everything that happened... she deserves it the most<33

user26 NICO AND BLAKE ARE FR DATING??? WHY WHY WHY WHY

user27 ? get serious

[multifandomgirl08]

Girlfriend? [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: You meet Nico.

Warning(s): Google Translated Dutch, Fluff

A/N: Thank you @maximeverstappen for the request. And a big thank you to @severalforraelee for helping me with this request. I was having a bit of writer's block with this. This is the second version of this that I wrote. That's why it's a little bit shorter than normal. I didn't like the first version so I completely re-wrote everything but the first paragraph. This will be the last thing for this series that I published out of order (hopefully), unless someone sends in a request for something that hasn't already been planned.

Words: 0.7k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

The first time that Nico met you was an accident. You had been over at Max’s apartment after getting lunch and had decided to stay for a bit since Nico would be with his sitter for a while longer. Nico’s sitter had called letting Max know that she was dropping him off just as you were grabbing your bag to leave.

"Papa!" You heard a boy yell as you stood in the doorway of Max’s apartment saying goodbye knowing that Nico would be home soon.

You turned your head to see Nico standing halfway down the hall holding the hand of who you assumed was Nico’s sitter. She was an older woman in her 40s. Nico stood there, a backpack that was too big for him around his shoulders.

Max looked at you in question before leaning down and opening his arms for Nico before the little boy dropped his bag and ran into his father’s arms.

“Heb je genoten van je dag vandaag?” Max asked before Nico started to nod.

You just watched as they interacted, Nico absorbed in Max while you and Nico’s sitter stood there.

Max looked over at you with a knowing smile. You had talked about meeting Nico before but it was always an eventual thing. Never planned and never set in stone.

“Nico, this is Y/N.” Max looked at Nico, and then turned to you.

Nico looked over at you, keeping his head up as your eyes met the little boy’s blue ones. As you looked at Nico, it just solidified in your mind that those Verstappen genes were strong, even Victoria’s kids looked like Max.

“She’s Papa’s friend.” You were okay with Max introducing you to Nico as Max’s friend. He probably didn’t know what a girlfriend was.

“Girlfriend?” Nico asked.

“Where did you hear that word?” Max asked carefully. He wasn’t sure who Nico had been spending time with for him to know what that meant.

“Dan,” Nico remarked as if that explained everything.

Daniel looked after Nico when Max had something going on for work, or if you wanted to spend a quiet evening together, and it was pretty easy to set it up since Daniel lived downstairs.

“Yes, like a girlfriend.” Max echoed, giving you a wide smile.

Max had told you that Nico was pretty smart given that he had just turned 2. You had just thought it was Max gushing about Nico. But you couldn’t help but laugh at the exchange of words that was going on.

If there had been any tension what so ever as you stood there with Nico and Max, it was definitely broken after that moment.

Max had invited Nico’s sitter inside but she said that she needed to be on her way.

She had left the three of you together before Nico leaned into Max’s ear whispering something that you couldn’t catch.

“Weet je het zeker?”  Max asked before Nico nodded in confirmation.

You gripped your bag a little tighter before Max looked over at you again. “Would you want to come with us out, to dinner later?” Max offered.

“I would love that.” You quickly agreed.

A little while later, around 5:30 Max had texted you with where you were going to meet the two of them of dinner. It hadn’t taken too long for Nico to open up to you once dinner had started and the food was delivered, he kept talking to you in his adorable broken english, and if he didn’t know that word would ask Max what it was.

As the meal went on Max seemed to recline further into his chair watching as the two of you interected across the table from one another. Nico had hugged you goodbye before Max made a gesture that he would call you.

You had gone back to your hotel for the night, and had been sitting on your laptop getting a few last minue work things done when your phone had gone off.

It was Max. You had spent the next hour talking first about dinner and then about the next time that you would be able to see one another again. Before you had switched topics halfway through you couldn’t help but ask Max, “Do you think he liked me?”

Mas stayed silent for a few seconds. Nico not liking you was something that could really make or break the relationship. “I’m sure he likes you Schat, he couldn’t seem to fall asleep when we got home.”

As you talked on the phone with him, you were excited to be able to spend more time with Nico. Even at the age of 2, Max had raised him well.

translation:

Heb je genoten van je dag vandaag? - Did you enjoy your day today?

Weet je het zeker? - Are you sure?

taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya