#this can't be my new thing... it can't be....
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fred-the-dinosaur · 2 days ago
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My 12,000 word Mission Impossible fic got compared to Ian fucking Fleming and I am never going to shut up about it ever
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Writer friends, I discovered a fun website today. It’s called “I Write Like” and here’s the description: Check which famous writer you write like with this statistical analysis tool, which analyzes your word choice and writing style and compares them with those of the famous writers.  Let me know which autor you got! 
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myjungkookthighs · 3 days ago
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MY FAVORITE JUNGKOOK FANFICS & RECOMMENDATIONS PART1 ✮⋆˙────────୨ৎ───────˙⋆✮
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My first lists! These from my favorites JJK fics writers and how amazing their works and most of the fics are top-notch and i really recommend y'all to read it and show some love to their works!! 💗 ( Most of the fics are 🔞+ ) @myjungkookthighs
♥︎— NEEDY | Part 1, Part 2 by @girlygguk ( I'm going to say i love all of my baby lyssa's works she's an amazing writer that i adored so much. All her fics like a drugs to me , top-notch! lol)
nerd!jk x cheerleader!(f)reader
hiding his feelings when you didn’t even know his name was hard. hiding his neediness and obsession when you finally did know his name and you were his fucking girlfriend? impossible. well, then it's a good thing you like him needy.
♥︎—FIRST CLASS | Part 1 by @girlygguk ( chef kiss🤌)
rich student!jk x (f)rich student!reader
in which you are just another spoiled, bitchy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby who has everyone at Yonsei University eating from the palm of your hand. and jeon jungkook, your spoiled, fuck-boy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby best friend, is always first in line to take a bite.
♥︎—CRAZY | Part 1, Part2 by @girlygguk (addicted like a mad person)
ceo!jk x employee!(f)reader
you know it sounds twisted. that most people would see hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. that’s when you realized... you weren't like most people. but that's okay. because neither is jungkook.
♥︎—HABITS (STAY HIGH) | Part1 by @girlygguk
student plug!jk x rich girl!reader
You9:06 PM do you be 🙄’ing other bitches yes or no
♥︎—BAD THINGS | Part 1 by @girlygguk
jock fuckboy!jk x nerdy fuckgirl!reader
getting jealous, sending mixed signals, simping for a gorgeous geek who has no idea what effect she has on him... it's just what jungkook does best. oh, and football. he's really good at football.
♥︎—DENIAL | Part1, Part2 by @girlygguk
idol!jk x (f)actress!reader
it's been a plethora of secret meetups, quickies in the bathrooms of his award shows, and 2 am 'you up?' texts during your year-long situationship with jungkook. you both agreed in the beginning that your careers are far too hectic to commit to anything serious, but you can't shake the shitty ache in your chest every time the high wears off, or when you're crawling out of his bed in the middle of the night. trying to exile the shitty feeling of longing that you harbor for him, you spend time with another one of your guy friends. jungkook sees, and he's ma
♥︎— BETWEEN THE RIDE AND THE ROSES (series) by @focusonkayjay
biker!Jk x flower shop owner!Reader
There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.
♥︎— FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE (series)by @dailynnt (Shout out to my love, her fic so amazing !!)
Best friend!Jungkook x Fem!Reader fwb!
What happens when two best friends try to get along under the same roof? You've been living with Jungkook for three months now, but your cohabitation is still a challenge for you. He continues to live like a real bachelor without following the rules you agreed upon from the beginning of your decision to live together. Should you find a compromise or should you find a new place to live?
♥︎—OLDER by @lovieku
dilf!jk x inexperienced!fem reader (i'm sucker for older or dilf jk!😭)
you’ve tried, but you can’t help yourself from crushing on your best friend’s dad. hot, buff, tatted up and successful, mr. jeon is the starring actor in all of your wettest dreams. and as you wake up from one while sleeping over at his house after his daughter’s birthday party, you don’t expect all of them to suddenly come true. but they do.
♥︎—HANDS ON ME by @lovieku
nerd!jk x popular!fem reader
it’s about to look like jeongguk’s birthday everyday with you.
♥︎—OBVIOUS by @lovieku
bookstore employee!jk x virgin!fem reader
you lose your virginity to jeongguk, the only boy you’d ever trust with such weight. and what you both feel for each other couldn’t be more obvious.
♥︎— GUYS MY AGE (one-shot) Drabble 1, Drabble 2 ,by @kooktrash
dilf jk x female college student!y/n [she/her] ( i had read 3 times cuz i'm sucker of it bcs IT'S CHEF KISS🤌)
a summer spent at your friend’s place wasn’t something to be anything to look forward to. her hot, young dad would seem to change that for you when you decide a game of teasing would suffice your boredom. you got more than you bargained for when you realize he’s not a fan of games.
♥︎— INFRUNAMI by @kooktrash
friends to lovers. y/n[afab, she/her] x best friend jungkook
you’ve made great friends throughout the years but none like jeon jungkook. he’s there for you when you need him and although at times when things get complicated between your feelings and thoughts… there’s one thing for certain. you both have been wasting time acting like there’s nothing between you.
♥︎— DEPEND ON ME by @kooktrash
Hybridbunnygirl!reader x human!jungkook
you’re so used to letting Jungkook do everything for you. he babies you almost and you’re both constantly reminded of the strangeness in your friendship. you’ve always loved him but he can’t see you as anything but the little bunny girl he used to protect. you change his mind
♥︎— NEVER AGAIN by @kooktrash
neighbor!jk x Reader
jeon jungkook is just your nosy neighbor who can’t seem to be anything less than a selfish, heart breaking, prick in your eyes. yet somehow he manages to wiggle his way into your life but is it enough for him to change your mind or will he prove your judgements right?
♥︎—MY DEAR FRIEND by @kooktrash
friends!jk x experienced!reader, f2l ( about a few day need to moved on from this fic)
just friends? keep telling yourself that, you and Jungkook have always danced on the line of friendship and something more but lately you’ve struggled being able to tell where you guys stand.
♥︎— BUNNY ADVENTURES by @kooktrash
hybrid!Jungkook x human!reader
you had absolutely no intentions of ever owning a hybrid until jungkook came along. a mistreated, misunderstood rabbit hybrid who’d only ever wanted was to be treated like an equal.
♥︎— RISQUE (series) by @mercurygguk
older!jk x reader age gap au (my all time favorite 😭)
in which jungkook struggles to keep his relationship with you strictly appropriate and it’s not like you’re making it easy for him.
♥︎— THE DILF INSTALLMENTS (series) by @mercurygguk
dad!jungkook x f. reader
this series follows jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!
♥︎— THE ART OF (DILF JK SERIES) by @venusiangguk
 dilf jk x grocery store clerk reader ( never over this bcs it's cute 🤧)
you find a baby in your store and in turn, a dilf finds you
♥︎— ONLY WHEN IT'S US (series) by @luvismenu
Uni! Jungkook x Fem Reader Strangers to??
you both say it’s nothing serious, but with every touch and argument, it gets harder to stay away.
♥︎— STARBOY (series)by @luvismenu
popular classmate!jungkook x class president!reader
everyone assumes you two can't stand each other, but is that really true?
♥︎—BED CHEM (Mini Series) by @muniimyg
Uni student!Jungkook x uni Student! Reader Frenemies to lovers!
after overhearing jungkook fuck someone else; you can’t help but want out of being his frenemy
♥︎— BABYDADDY!JK (series) by @muniimyg
ex!au jungkook x ex!reader
Co- parenting
♥︎—ITBOYFRIEND!JUNGKOOK | (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) by @muniimyg
ITbf!Jk x Fem Reader
♥︎—JUST TAKE IT (series) by @ahgasegotarmy116
Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) dilf! jk
A turn of events has the people you thought you trusted stabbing you in the back and leaving you broken hearted and betrayed. Who knew though that sometimes things just happen for a reason
♥︎—BANG-ABLE (mini one-shot/drabble) by @ahgasegotarmy116
f!reader x Sex Bot Jungkook (I'm obsessed!! 😭)
You've been single for way too long and you're done with causal sex and all the drama that comes along with it...so why not try something new?
♥︎— DEEP SIX (mini series) by @bratkook but i read on AO3
biker!jk x reader
It’s like a stranger had a key, came inside of my mind and moved all my things around. He didn’t know snakes can hear the prey, can’t try to break the psyche down.
♥︎— CHAMPANGE CONFFETI by @margotw10bis
boyfriend!Jungkook x camgirl!reader
Your boyfriend loves watching you on live but his whole mood changes when he reads one specific comment from one of your fans
♥︎— PARADISE (series) by @minisugakoobies i read on AO3
 Stripper!Jungkook x Reader (my absolute favorite!😭)
That sexy man on stage - the one currently giving your friend the lap dance of her LIFE - is your super shy neighbor, Jeon Jungkook?!
♥︎— THE PINK PILL -"3 DAYS" by @dollfaceksj
best friend!jungkook x fem!reader (top-notch!i read twice😭)
In each of these universes, you find yourself consuming what is known as the pink pill. This pill is essentially a drug that enhances your libido to the max and you’ll quite literally never experience arousal like you do when you’ve taken this pill. Thankfully, in each universe, there’s a man that’s ready to help you explore and reach your peak of sexual euphoria.
♥︎— THE WEEKEND by @chryblossomjjk
dilf!jk x babysitter reader ( the best thing ever! 😭)
every weekend, you give jungkook a little taste of something he’s missing monday through friday.
♥︎—SUGARPLUM ELERGY by @bymoonchild
College!Jungkook x Reader , fwb (i can't let go of this story top-notch)
You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. All’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. Or, Jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.
♥︎— MICROWAVE (MIS)ADVENTURE by @bymoonchild
housemate!Jungkook x Reader
Out of all things to be afraid of, Jungkook, the seat-stealer of your 8am class and annoying housemate whom you despise with every fiber of your being, chooses to have a phobia of microwaves, but he loves buying microwaveable food – because come on, they’re irresistible – and you somehow find yourself getting dragged into his microwaves (mis)adventures. Cue chaos, sarcasm-laced banter and an unplanned romance.
♥︎— COLD NIGHTS AND BLURRED LINES| WARM NIGHTS & CLEAR LINES| cnbldrabbles by @awrkive
basketball!jungkook x nerdy!(fem) reader,fwb (i'm crazy over this 😭)
jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.
♥︎—CAN'T LET IT GO (part 1)| PHYSICALLY OBSESSED(part2) by @chunghasweetie
dom!oc x nerdysub!jjk
loser nerd jk has crushed on her for years and is assigned to be her college tutor for her calculus class. studying doesn’t go exactly as planned and he ends up losing his virginity in the best way possible.
oc finally cuffs jk and they celebrate
♥︎— HE GIVE IT TO ME (Part1) | WONT TOUCH YOU LIKE ME (Part2)by @chunghasweetie
fem!oc x dealer!jjk
always giving out free shit to his favorite customer.
after a petty argument jungkook spots you showing out at a party with the hosts arm around your waist.
♥︎— MERAKI by @taegularities
grumpy!Jk x sunshine!reader
Jungkook finds you irritating; far too energetic and insistent. But his perception of you changes bit by bit, minute by minute, when he's persuaded into spending an entire night with you at places he doesn't know.
♥︎—NO NUT NOVEMBER by @2hightocare
dilf!jungkook x fem!reader
Jungkook didn’t think stuff through when he made a bet for “No Nut November” he seemed to forget that he can’t say no to you.
♥︎— FOR ME (DILF!JK DRABBLES COLLECTION ) by @personasintro
dilf!jungkook x reader
A collection of drabbles accompanied with dilf!jk
♥︎— BURNING HOUR by @jungqkook
Richbf!jk x gf!reader (you gonna need holy water later lmao!)
there’s nothing better than spending an entire day at your boyfriend’s yatch, tanning and waiting for the sunset with a drink in your hand… too bad your boyfriend had other plans for you.
♥︎—BETTER BOYFRIEND THAN HIM by @jungqkook
friend!Jk x reader
jungkook makes it a mission to prove to you that he can be better than your boring boyfriend. when it comes to sex, at least.
♥︎— FIGHT FOR YOU (series) by @ahundredtimesover
bodyguard!jk x heiress!reader
Working at a private security agency has its perks. The downside? Being the personal bodyguard of spoiled, rich heiresses like you. But there are things that Jungkook didn’t expect, like rejecting you, falling for you, and realizing what he’d been missing all along.
♥︎— GUARDED by @junghelioseok
bodyguard!Jk x Reader
❛❛ good girl. ❜❜ ❛❛ don’t get shy on me now. ❜❜
♥︎—BODYGUARD by @sxtaep
bodyguard!jk, idol!reader
when you’re stuck in a near-death situation, your high school crush, now your bodyguard, begins to regret ever rejecting you 5 years ago.
♥︎—STRIKE THREE by @avveh (ao3)
Bodyguark!jk x Bratty!Reader ( i'm obsessed!)
When discipline and chaos meet, one will always rise to the top.
♥︎— EVERYTHING IN YOU |Part1, Part2 , DRABBLE1, DRABBLE 2, DRABBLE 3 by @jjungkookislife
roommate!sperm donor Jk x pregnant! Reader (my favorite iso cute)
You want a baby and Jungkook is willing to help
♥︎— BABYMAKER by @badbtssmut
bestfriend!Jk x Reader
You want a baby, but you just broke up with your boyfriend but your best friend Jungkook offers you the solution to your heart break, he’ll give you your baby, no strings attached.
♥︎— SPECIAL PREPARATION by @badbtssmut
Piercer!Jungkook x Reader
You go to a piercing shop to get a clit piercing but your piercer Jungkook has an interesting way of prepping his clients.
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Actually i like all Miss Cherry @redcherrykook fics and i read them all and her works always the bomb never disappointed me and here i will share my most favorites from her🤪💗
♥︎— SAFEWORD
daddy!jungkook and sub oc
♥︎—SPOT ME INSTEAD
gymrat!JK x gymrat!reader
♥︎—MIDNIGHT SNACK
idol!Jk x gf!Reader
♥︎—MILK AND CREAM
sub!JKx noona!Reader
♥︎—BAD BOY,GOOD GIRL/HIGHSCHOOL SWEET
highschool sweethearts!jk x Reader
♥︎— (TENT)ATIVE ENEMIES
friendnemie!Jk x Reader
♥︎— Kinktober D1-SOMNOPHILLIA
needy JK x reader
♥︎—Kinktober D8- OFFICER PLAYS & CUFFS
roleplay!!JKx bad girl oc
♥︎—Kinktober D10- SPANKING & PUNISHING
DADDY KINK JK! x sub oc
♥︎—Kinktober D12- MIRROR SEX
idol bf! Jk x gf! Reader
♥︎—Kinktober D16- MARKING
possessive bf! JK x Reader
♥︎—Kinktober D19- DACRYPHILLIA (crying kink)
Daddy! Jk x Crybaby! reader
♥︎—Kinktober D22- EXHIBITIONISM
bf!jk x gf reader
by @redcherrykook
That's it for part1 !
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javierpena-inatacvest · 2 days ago
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Merry Christmas, Baby
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Summary: You're not sure what to get Javi for Christmas, until he gives you an idea for a gift you can't put under the tree
Word Count: 3.3K (I wrote this in two hours, the thots do be thotin)
Paring: Husband!Javi x Wife!reader
Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex (whoops), breeding kink (I'll say it once and I'll say it again, you KNOW this man deserves 17 kids) vaginal fingering, creampie (big time), family planning, Javi gets so excited about the idea of another baby he literally can't control himself, terrible, sexual Christmas puns, cute and sweet Christmas fluff bc I love this family more than life and you know they give their kids the most magical Christmases 🥺
A/N: I'll take Javier Peña with a big fat breeding kink for a thousand, please!!! I was feeling in a writing rut, until I read @notjustjavierpena Husband Javi Christmas fic last night, and lord have MERCY, consider me inspired 🫡 I'll never shut up about the fact that this man wants a football team, and every Christmas will ask to put another baby in you as his only Christmas gift BYEEEEEEE I need to be institutionalized at this point sorry this is poorly beta'd, it's me, I'm allergic to editing!!!
Forever and Always Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist
“Javier Peña, there has to be something you want for Christmas.” 
“As long as all my girls are happy, that’s all I want.” 
“Unfortunately, I can’t wrap your sappy sentiment, Javi.” 
There was nothing more that you enjoyed than showering Javi with gifts for the holidays. There were few people on earth you could imagine being more deserving than your husband- you’d find a way to wrap the moon and top it with a bow, if that’s what he wanted. Unfortunately for you, Javi was so sweet, it made buying gifts for him nearly impossible, considering there was rarely ever a tangible item on his wishlist. 
“I don’t need anything, baby.” Javi smiled, reaching for the roll of bright pink and sparkly wrapping paper in front of him to start covering the new Barbie Dream House Lucy had been begging for all year long. “Toss me the tape.” 
“Well obviously I have things for you, but I always wanna make sure I’m getting you things that you want.” You sighed, gently throwing the roll of Scotch tape you had been using over the pile of gifts between you and Javi you were working on wrapping while your daughters were asleep. 
After six Christmases under your belts, you and Javi had learned from the one grave mistake of waiting until Christmas Eve to wrap all your daughter’s presents, now taking a few nights before the big day to wrap and assemble any gifts being left under the tree for your own sanity. 
Now that your girls, Lucy, Elliot and Harper, were six, four and two, it made Christmas even more magical, knowing that they were beginning to understand the concept of what the holiday meant, and all the joyous anticipation that led up to the 25th of December. 
It also meant that there were a lot more presents to wrap- 1, because Lucy and Elliot knew that they could ask for gifts they wanted, and 2, because Javi would say he’d be done buying presents and then show up the next day after work with another toy for his girls. 
“Honey, you get great gifts, for me, but especially for the girls, too. Fuck, I forgot this needs batteries…” Javi mumbled to himself, carefully undoing the wrapping paper he had started working on, “You make a very good Santa.” 
“I think the girls like your version of Santa better, since that’s how they end up with double the gifts under the tree.” You giggled, playfully rolling your eyes at Javi before reaching for the next toy in the pile, “I’m being serious, Javi. I love spoiling those girls just as much as you, but you also deserve to be spoiled too, ya know.” 
“You’re my wife, gave me three beautiful daughters, and tolerate me on a daily basis. Baby, that’s plenty fucking spoiled, if you ask me.” Javi grinned, giving you a reassuring nod and little shrug of his shoulders. 
“You’re much more than tolerable, you goof.” You laughed, cheeks pink at the warmth of your husband’s words, never failing to make you melt a little more each day. “Will you please just tell me one thing you want? Then I’ll let it go, I promise.” 
Javi sat quietly for a moment, fiddling with the edges of the wrapping paper he was working on before a boyish smile began to creep into the corners of his cheeks. 
“Uh oh.” You laughed to yourself, immediately recognizing the goofy grin Javi was trying to contain, “What is it, Peña?” 
“You’re not gonna like it.” Javi snickered to himself, raising an eyebrow at you. 
“Jav, if it’s another dog, I told you, when the girls are older and-” 
“No, it’s not another dog.” He smirked, still softly laughing to himself as you tilted your head at him in confusion, trying to piece together what kind of gift Javi would want that would take any convincing from you, crossing your arms over your chest as you attempted to decipher the devious splayed across his face. 
It only took about two seconds and that look to figure out what Javi was in the market for.  
“Javi…” You sighed, your tone jokingly stern. 
“Osita?” He responded back, trying to downplay his giddiness now that you had figured out his gift suggestion. 
“Javi, four kids is a lot of kids. One more, and they’re doubling us in ranks.” 
You had always been on the fence about having a fourth baby. Not because you didn’t love having kids, or that you didn’t think you couldn’t handle it, mentally or financially, but because your brain worked in logistics- adding one more member to your family was getting you to the point where you’d have so many kids, you wouldn’t even all fit in Javi’s truck anymore, unless someone got demoted to the trunk, which, in all honesty, you were sure Elliot wouldn’t mind. 
For Javi, on the other hand, there was no need to worry about logistics- the two of you would figure it out sooner or later. The only logistics he was worried about was instigating the baby making process.  
“You asked what I wanted!” Javi replied, chuckling as he held his hands up in defense, “I think I’ve been a very good boy all year, if you ask me.” 
“What you’re asking for is definitely putting you on the naughty list.” You huffed, trying to distract yourself with finishing wrapping the present you were working on to hide the fact you were genuinely considering Javi’s present suggestion. “You really think we can handle four kids, Jav?” 
It took everything in you not to laugh at the way Javi instantly perked up when your first response to his gift idea wasn’t rejection, eyeing you up and down and gently biting down on his lower lip. 
“Mhmmm.” He nodded, slowly making his way around the pile of presents to scooch closer to you, “I’ll take care of everything, mi amor. You, the girls, the baby, I can ask for less hours at work so I can help around here, whatever you want, you know I’ll give it to you.” 
“You really want this baby, huh?” You giggled, smirking at Javi as he crawled next to you, hungry look in his eyes while he began to cage his body over yours, carefully laying you down on the floor beneath him. 
“Fuck, I wanna knock you up again so bad. You’re so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant.” Javi groaned, planking overtop you, his hot breath dancing across your skin in between his soft nips at your pulse point. “Let me fuck another baby into you, Osita. Please.” 
Any inhibitions you would have had in protest had completely flown out the window, arousal soaking the fabric of your underwear as Javi kissed up your neck and across your collarbone, softly palming at your breasts under one of his old sweatshirts you had thrown on. 
Truth be told, you and Javi had talked about baby number four enough that you were already leaning towards saying 'yes' anyways, but that wouldn’t stop you from having a little fun in seeing how badly Javi really wanted the Christmas gift he was asking you for. 
“Tell me how badly you want it, Javi. Tell me how much you wanna fuck another baby into me.” You devilishly whispered into his ear, smiling to yourself at the pathetic groan that rumbled from his chest in response. 
“Fuck me-” Javi moaned, hands feverishly groping your body, “Fuck, I want it so bad, quierda. Wanna fill you up ‘till it has no choice but to fucking take, fuck this pussy so full of me, let everyone know who it belongs to, watching you carry our baby. Please, Osita.” 
It was a good thing you were already prepared to be easily swayed, because even if you weren’t, listening to the way Javi was begging to put another baby in you would have easily been enough. 
“Okay. Merry Christmas, Papí.” 
Your green light was all Javi needed to spark something completely feral in him, practically ripping your clothes off you in the middle of the living room, sprawled out on the carpet. 
“Javi, we can go upstairs and-” 
“No. Fuck, I need to fuck you right now, just like this.” He grunted, shedding his clothes before his hand was cupping over your underwear, jaw going slack at how absolutely soaked the fabric was under the pads of his fingers. “Apparently you do too, huh, Momma? She’s so wet for me, isn’t she? Pretty pussy wants me to fill her up so bad.” 
Your stomach churned in arousal as Javi ripped your panties down your legs, revealing the puffy, glistening mess beneath. Javi had barely touched you, and you could already feel the way you’re dripping, admittedly just as turned on as him at the idea of letting him add another addition to your family. 
“Christ, baby.” Javi muttered, settling between your legs. Letting his hands run up the insides of your thighs, he took his thumbs and slid them between your folds, spreading you open to get a full view of the way your slick was coating your cunt. “Making a fucking mess for me already.” 
“I think I’m ovulating soon.” You sigh, doing some quick math in your head, trying to account for just how worked up you were, Javi’s eyes so going wide at the realization, you were worried they may just pop out of his skull. 
“Oh, fuck me.” Javi groaned, shaking his head in disbelief at his luck, “You’re right, Merry fuckin’ Christmas to me then.” 
Swirling the pads of his fingers against your clit, your back arched against the floor at the shockwaves the pleasure sent through your body, making you gasp so loud, you were worried you risked a real possibility of waking up your daughters. 
“F-Fuck, Javi-” You whimpered, already bucking your bottom half towards him as he sunk his two fingers into your cunt while the heel of his palm rubbed deliciously against your clit. Reaching up, your grasp wrapped around Javi’s bicep, muscles flexing with each pulse of his fingers as you left half-crescent moons in his skin. 
It took everything in you not to scream as a third finger joined the first two, stretching you out as he bumped against your g-spot, tension already beginning to build in your core. A sudden gasp escaped your chest, surprised by the newfound emptiness that had you clenching around nothing, looking up to see Javi reaching down to wrap his hand around his cock, stroking it a few times before lining it up with your entrance. 
“Fuck, I’m sorry, I need to fucking feel you, baby. Swear you’ve got me feeling like I’m about to bust like a fucking teenager.” Javi grunted, running his tip against your clit and down your cunt, collecting your arousal before thrusting himself inside you, filling you to the brim with every inch of him. 
Unless you were desperately pressed for time, Javi normally had a bare bones minimum of pulling at least one orgasm out of you before he fucked you, but seeing how worked up and needy he was to feel you wrapped around him, it was about as close to an orgasm you could get withtout actually having one. 
“Oh fuck, Javi!” you whined, feeling the tip of his head kiss your cervix as he began to thrust in and out of you, feeling dizzy from his fullness. You could tell he was trying to hold himself together, his hips slamming into you in deep, slow thrusts, breath hitching in the back of your throat every time he buries himself deeper inside you. 
“Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking tight. Fuck, I can’t wait to fill her up, give you every last fucking drop. Taking me so fucking well.” Javi moaned through gritted teeth, already scrunching his face in concentration through his pussy drunk babbling.  
Running his hands up the back of your thighs, Javi pushed your knees to your chest, pinning your legs in place against your stomach to stretch you out even further, letting him sink himself even deeper to hit the spot he knew drove you just as crazy as it drove him. 
Despite how lost in pleasure the two of you were, Javi was at least conscious enough to realize how loud you had gotten, quickly reaching up cup your mouth, catching your muffled moans in the palm of his hand. 
“I know, hermosa. Fuck, I love hearing you, but we gotta keep quiet enough, baby.” Javi huffed, snaking the hand covering your mouth between your bodies, circling at your clit, almost as if he was putting you through some sort of cruel test to see how far he could push you before he had you screaming at the top of your lungs. 
“Fuck- fuck, I know. You feel so good, Javi.” You whined, hand pressed against his bare chest, his warmth and weight pinning your body below him. 
You feel the way Javi’s thrusts become quicker and harsher, filling himself as deep as he could as your cunt began to clench around his length, sucking him in with your warmth and wetness. Your eyes had been scrunched, so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t even noticed the nearly pained look on Javi’s face, furrowing his brow in deep concentration with each slap of his hips against yours. 
“You okay, Javi?” You asked, panting out each word as he pounded into you, circling your clit faster and faster as his grip tightened around your thighs, trying to keep himself grounded. 
“Yeah, I- Fuck- fuck me, I’m trying so hard not to finish before you do. Pussy feels so fucking good. Wanna cum so fucking deep inside you.” Javi moaned, the rhythm of his hips already starting to falter thinking about his endgame. 
If you weren’t so lost in your own ecstasy, you probably would have giggled at Javi’s admission, giving him shit about how he couldn’t hold it together for even just a few minutes, knowing he could finally try to get you pregnant again. But right now, you’re just shocked you can even get any words to form coherent thoughts to string together, let alone tease him. 
“Put a baby in me, Javi. Fuck, want you to cum so deep inside me, please, baby.” 
You could barely finish the whimpers of your sentence before Javi’s pace became sloppy and erratic, hips stuttering before his jaw went slack, letting a low, long groan escape from his chest. 
“Oh, f-fuck-” Javi stammered, flushing his hips against yours as you felt his warm spend coat your walls, pressed so deep inside you, you were convinced it’d have no choice but to stick, in a few weeks finding out baby number four would be on the way. 
Javi’s chest rose and fell, looking down at the way your bodies melted together beneath him, igniting something primal in him to see the mix of your arousal seeping around where the two of you met. His eyes darkened, looking down at you with a feral sort of smirk, not even giving you the chance to speak before his lips were crashing into yours again, hips slowly thrusting while his fingers rubbed at your sensitive bundle of nerves. 
“J-Javi, what are you-” You muttered, cut off by the messy dancing of tongues and teeth in your mouths. 
“I’m not done yet, Momma. Not until I fuck myself so deep in there we know it fucking takes. Wanna keep you stuffed so fucking full of me.” Javi grunted, rubbing your clit faster at the way he could feel the walls of your pussy starting to flutter around him, determined to make sure he wasn’t the only one who finished. “Cum for me, baby. I know you’re close. Can feel how tight she’s getting for me.” 
You knew just as well as he did that the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine had slowly begun to flow to every inch of your body, building up through your legs and into your core, clenching down harder and harder around Javi’s cock, knowing there was no doubt the mess between your legs was surley just as wet as it sounded as he slid in and out of you. 
“Oh fuck, Javi, oh fuck- fuck, fuckfuckfuck- ah!” 
It didn't take long before your orgasm crashed through you, lighting up every inch of you in radiating pleasure, your cunt clamping down so hard around Javi’s cock, it made him let out a strangled gasp as he choked out curses under his breath. 
“Jesus, fuck. Gonna squeeze every last fucking drop outta me, huh? My greedy fuckin’ girl.” Javi smirked, planting a soft kiss on your lips before he slumped on top of you, your chests rising and falling as one as you finished coming down from your high. 
The two of you laid there for a moment, catching your breaths and basking in bliss before Javi was pulling out of you with a hiss, one hand wrapped around his softening cock, the other scooping up the mix of your spend pooling between your legs before it dripped to the floor, carefully pushing it back inside you. 
“Fuck,” Javi laughed to himself quietly, sitting back on his haunches, admiring the slick, shiny mess your pussy had become, “Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I came that hard.” 
“Looks like Christmas came early this year… and so did you.” You giggled, making Javi roll his eyes, playfully shaking one of the legs still pressed to your chest. 
“Shut up.” He sighed, shaking his head at you before laying back down beside you, shifting so that his chest was pressed to your back, spooning you in his grasp. “Gotta make sure Santa’s not the only thing coming down the chimney this year.” 
“Jesus Christ, Javi.” You can’t help but snort, ashamed of how easily amused you are by his stupid puns. 
“What? You let me get my gift early, least I can do is stuff your stocking for you.” 
“Oh my god, you are the worst.” 
The two of you giggled, basking in your laughter as you laid together on the floor, only spurred on by the fact you realized how ridiculous it was that the two of you were completely naked in the middle of your living room, surrounded by a sea of wrapping paper and presents. 
“Speaking of stocking stuffers, we should finish wrapping the rest of these gifts we have out before we go to bed. At least some of these presents should be wrapped, because the one you just gave me was most definitely not.” You teased, craning your neck to pepper ticklish kisses across Javi’s jaw. 
“It’s the gift that keeps on giving. I’ll give it to you tomorrow too, if you let me.” Javi grinned, giving you a playful wink before pressing a kiss into your messy hair and patting your hip, reaching over you to grab the pile of clothes the two of you had left next to you. “Seriously though, thank you. You and our girls are the best gift I could ever have, but adding one more would make me so fucking happy. I love you, Osita.” 
“I love you too, Javi. You guys are the best gift I could ask for, too. Although, I will say, your gift also selfishly works in my favor, too. Some presents are just better unwrapped.”
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@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine
@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24
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@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs
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zephyrchama · 3 days ago
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It was late evening when your DDD started ringing. An unusual time for someone to call unless they were either drunk or in mortal peril. This occasion happened to be the latter.
Karasu's caller ID flashed a photo of Luke across the screen after the first ring. The angel was always early to bed and early to rise and never called without good reason, so you scrambled to answer, moving so fast that your finger slipped and you initially missed the right button.
"Hello?" you said. It took a moment for the call to connect.
"Hi... Sorry, umm, is now a good time?"
Luke sounded close to tears. He was trying to keep himself composed for your sake, but the distressed warble in his voice betrayed him. By the sound of things, he wasn't in his bedroom. He wasn't even in the living room or kitchen of Purgatory Hall. It was somewhere small, where his voice echoed off the walls.
"Luke, are you okay? Where are you?"
You recognized the sound of splashing water when he sniffled just before responding, "I'm in the bath."
It was an odd answer, but at least he was somewhere safe. So, why was he crying?
"Did Solomon feed you anything weird?"
"No, that's not it." Luke took a deep breath and winced. The sounds of agitated water accompanied his explanation. "You see... Simeon got a new shampoo that smells like cloudberries, and I really wanted to try some. Just a little bit, honest! But it came out of the bottle really fast, and it fell into my eyes." The crying began in earnest. "It really hurts and now I can't get it out of my eyes and Simeon's going to find out I used his shampoo without asking."
You felt slightly thankful that Solomon wasn't using the little angel as his food taster, but his small sobs over such a small matter made your heart ache.
"I'm going blind as punishment for stealing Simeon's shampoo," he confessed.
"Hey! Hey, no you're not! It's going to be okay!" you assured him. "You're not going to go blind. Listen. Turn on the faucet and try to splash some clean water in your eyes. Also, keep crying."
The sound of a running faucet could be heard through the phone. "Why? Will my tears prove that I'm repenting and weaken the punishment?"
"It'll... uh, yeah? Yeah, sure. It will also rinse the shampoo out of your eye so they stop stinging, but it'll do that, too."
There was a soft thud as Luke set his DDD down, followed by several minutes of loud splashing noises and weeping. He was having a tough time. You tried to be encouraging, unsure if he could hear you or not, by chiming in with the occasional "you're doing great!" and "hang in there!"
The tears came to a stop and Luke turned the faucet off. There was a beat of silence, followed by him exclaiming from afar, "it worked!"
He picked the phone back up. "It worked! I can see again! It doesn't hurt as much! Thank you! I'm so glad I called." The boy sounded like he was crying again, this time in relief. He had his usual cheery demeanor back.
"Everything OK now?"
"Yeah! I really owe you. I have to go tell Simeon what I did now, but I'll properly thank you tomorrow at school."
You wondered what sort of treats he would present. A drain popped open and you heard the water swirling away. Your muscles were still tense from concern, but the emergency had been swiftly dealt with.
"Glad I could help. Be sure to get lots of sleep, okay? You need to rest your eyes."
You could tell Luke was nodding even if you couldn't see him. "Got it!"
"Good night, Luke."
"Good night!"
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yxngbxkkie · 3 days ago
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just a fight (b.c)
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hello!! it's been an extremely long time since i've posted any fics on here (or written them)! but i finally got the inspiration to write one for our lovely chris 🤭 i saw a tik tok from the new album intro and came up with this idea. i hope you all like it 🥰
feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰
It's about the fourth time in an hour that Chris has checked his phone, the frown on his lips staying there as there's still no texts from you. He releases a sigh before attempting to refocus on the task at hand; recording.
The two of you have been in an argument for the past two days. Longest time the two of you have spent angry at one another. You didn't argue often, so Chris is becoming a bit panicked when you don't text him on the third day.
“Hyung,” Changbin's voice snaps Chris from his thoughts, turning in his chair to face the younger member. “Is everything okay? I've never seen you this spaced out.”
Chris provides a fake smile, going to reassure him that everything is okay when his phone vibrates. He picks it up immediately, his heart dropping a bit when it's not you. He swipes away the notification without any thought, not really in the mood to converse with anyone.
“I'm okay, I guess,” he mumbles, setting his phone back on the desk. “Uhm, Y/N and I had an argument three days ago and…” Chris trails off, biting his lip to stop himself from crying.
“Have you tried calling?” Changbin asks, motioning for the other staff to give them a minute alone.
Chris blankly stares at the computer screen, moving the mouse around idly. “I get sent to voicemail,” he tells Changbin, not moving his gaze once.
“I'll try calling. This can't go on any longer. You can't work like this,” Changbin sighs, standing up from the couch. The younger member pulls his phone out of his pocket, finding your contact before calling your number.
Chris can hear the phone ringing, his heart beginning to beat a million miles a minute in his chest.
“Bin?” Your voice comes through the receiver, causing Chris to gasp lightly. He finally looks over towards Changbin, seeing him hold his phone out.
Take the phone. He motions, holding the device out to him. Chris hesitantly takes the phone as you continue to call out for Changbin.
“Y/N?” Chris calls out your name just after Changbin leaves the studio. He can hear your breath hitch at the sound of his voice, and he begins to think you might hang up. “B-Before you hang up… can we talk? Please?”
Silence fills the space as he waits for your reply. He swallows the lump in his throat, wondering if he's fucked up one of the good things in his hectic life.
“I'm really sorry, y'know? I've always had the habit of keeping shit to myself. You can ask the guys,” he starts to apologize, staring at your contact name. “I was doing really well on keeping you in tabs of everything, but these past few weeks have been pretty stressful. And, I know that's not a great excuse, but being cooped up in the studio hours on end has brought me back to my old ways. I should've told you what's been going on, but I promise, if you don't leave me that I'll change. I don't want to lose you.”
His heart is in his throat as he waits for you to say something, anything. When he hears you start to cry, his first instinct is for him to run to your apartment. “Baby–”
“How are you so perfect?” You whisper loud enough for him to hear. You sniffle and clear your throat before speaking again. “I should be so mad at you, Chris. But, you– you make it impossible to stay mad.”
“I'm sorry?” He mumbles, furrowing his brows in confusion.
A chuckle comes from your end, and his heart skips a beat. “It's okay. Uhm, are you busy? Is it okay if I come to you, or,” You offer to meet up, making Chris's heart race.
“Y-Yeah, no, yeah, you can come by. I'll let the front desk know. Text me when you get here?” He asks, a smile coming to his lips for the first time in three days.
“Of course, handsome. I'll see you soon, okay?” You reassure him.
~
You're nervous as you walk into the JYP building. You know everything's going to turn out okay, but for some reason, the nausea is still there. The receptionist clears you through, and you step into the elevator. After pressing the button for the floor Chris is on, you decided to take some deep breaths.
Your phone vibrates in your hand, seeing a single heart emoji text from Chris. Your heart flutters in your chest, beginning to believe that everything will be alright. The door to the elevator opens up, and you step out, walking in the familiar direction of the studio they're using.
When you round the corner to go down the slim hallway, you find Chris standing at the studio door. You stop in place, meeting his dark eyes. The first thing you notice is the bags under his eyes. A frown comes to your lips at how exhausted he looks.
“Baby,” you mumble and start walking towards him.
“You look good,” Chris smiles at you, his eyes a little glossy. “I missed you so much.”
Both of you wrap your arms around one another, embracing tightly. You tightly grip the shirt he's wearing as he takes in the scent of your perfume.
“I missed you, too, baby,” you sigh, combing your fingers through his hair with your free hand.
Chris holds on to you as if you'll disappear once he lets go. He moves both of you into the studio before shutting the door, giving you some privacy.
You pull away from him, keeping your hands on his forearms as you look back up at him. “Everything's gonna be okay, okay?” You reassure him, gently stroking his arms.
He nods his head, clearing his throat before wrapping you up in his arms again. “I honestly thought that this was the end, y'know?” He mumbles into your neck, kissing the skin lightly.
“I'm in love with you, Chris. I don't ever want this to end,” you tell him while massaging the back of his head.
His hands slip under the hoodie you're wearing, a breathy sigh leaving his lips at the feeling of your soft skin. You bring your hands to his face, making him look at you before your lips meet his.
Chris moans into the kiss, his grip on your waist tightening. “God,” he mumbles, pulling away for a quick second. He reconnects his lips to yours, putting some more passion into the kiss. “I love you.”
You can't help but giggle, resting your forehead against his. “You make me feel like I've got a high school crush, you know that?” You ask him while placing one of your hands to your chest, feeling how fast your heartbeat is.
“I feel the same about you, baby,” he grins, dimples on full display. Chris grabs a hold of your hands as silence fills the room. He intertwines your fingers, keeping his gaze on them.
“You okay, baby?” You ask him quietly, squeezing his hands. “Talk to me.”
He lifts his head, the smile still there, and he nods. “I'm okay. I'm just– really happy that you're back and that we're okay,” he releases a deep breath, bringing your hands to his lips, peppering the backs of them in kisses.
“I'm afraid you're stuck with me,” you joke with him.
“I wouldn't want it any other way, baby,” Chris pulls you close to him, capturing your lips in another kiss.
~
tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n @foxinnie8
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cuteandhughesy · 3 days ago
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I’ll Be Home For Christmas | Nico Hischier
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summary: nico hischier acting as your fake boyfriend to try and get your family off your back this holiday season seems like the perfect solution - or so you thought.
14.9k
warnings: SFW! fake dating | friends to lovers | suggestive themes and dialogue | kissing | jealousy | angst | fluff | mentions of anxiety |
a/n: based off this request! is this a plot i’ve seen before? absolutely! do i eat it up every time? ABSOLUTELY! hope you guys enjoy my third fic of my christmas special—I cant believe it’s almost christmas 🎄 this was originally supposed to go up on Christmas eve, but i finished it early 😘
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"I think the only way to solve this is if I jump off the highest mountain in jersey."
bree pauses her stirring hand, glancing at you sternly over her shoulder. "don't jump off anything, y/n/n."
you let out another unsatisfied grunt, a disgruntled noise that has come out your mouth many times since you arrived at your best friend's apartment - and you've only been here an hour.
the sound of the wooden spoon scraping along the metal soup pot starts up again, bree continuing to mix her homemade chicken vegetable soup she coerced you over with.
you watch the blonde with a pout on your slightly chapped lips - but it matches the rest of your appearance, so you're not even bothered that they are dry. resting your chin in the palm of your hand, you can't help but zone out and drown in your own dreadful bubble.
you've been feeling overwhelmed and stressed since last night. it started as you'd just finished eating your sad excuse of a frozen meal dinner, beginning to queue up the next episode of stranger things - when your evening was interrupted with your mom’s call.
"mom? is anything okay?" you answer quickly, brows pulled together in a curious manner.
you can hear her gentle laughter through the grainy line. "don't sound so scared to speak to me, honey. everything is fine."
you sigh. "just wasn't expecting a late night call is all....what's up?"
"well," she singsongs, and you can practically hear her wide smile through the phone. "you remember my friend susan, right? from work?" you hum once, so your mom continues. "well she has a son named scott, and he's around your age."
"why are you telling me this?"
she tuts her tongue like it should be obvious. "they are staying at same same skii cabin resort as us this christmas! and you're still single so I want you to meet each other - get to know one another."
that has you sitting up in a hurry, she's blown wide as you take in your moms words. "mom, no i'm not going to entertain this."
"why not? he's nice and cute-" your moms familiar voice fades into the background, as you can't focus on anything but the swirl of panicked thoughts in your head.
you've been single for three years - three years since your last boyfriend cheated on you with his macdonald's co-worker. honestly his first red flag should've been working at macdonald's at his big age of 28 - you should've broke up with him right then and there.
since then, your mom has been wanting you to get back out there, and 'give her grand babies' - you try to not shutter just thinking about it. she's been trying to get you to meet a million different young men, changing between her friends kids and even random baristas she meets at her local starbucks. and honestly you're just tired of it.
you won't find the love of your life through your mom - and it seems that only you can see the logic behind that.
you'd been looking forward to the few days away from the city for christmas, especially with your boss really coming down on you about upcoming new year business proposals that were honestly out of your job description. now your extended weekend that was supposed to relaxing and festive was tainted by your mom and this mysterious scott dude.
you come back to, your mom still lengthly explaining the christmas plans and scott and everything else in between. you huff anxiously, and before your brain can stop the word vomit that is festering on your tongue, you interrupt her.
"i'm bringing someone to christmas."
the blabbering in your ear comes to a quick stop, your mom going completely silent on the line.  "who?"
you swallow, "my boyfriend."
the conversation went on for a bit longer, and you had blabbed about your fake boyfriend without giving away any type of physical details- heck you even avoided giving him a name. when your mom had asked, you told her that you didn't want to give anything away - the element of surprise much more enjoyable.
you cringe thinking back on it, closing your eyes tightly. you are so screwed.
the front door opens quickly, alerting you and bree to her boyfriends arrival. it's only a few seconds following the thud of his hockey bag hitting the hardwood floor that dougie saunters into the kitchen, hair still damp from his post-practice shower.
he looks up from his phone, finding you sitting with a frown at his kitchen island. "what's up with you?"
this time it's bree who groans out. she takes the spoon out of the soup and sets in on the countertop, spinning on her heels to look at you and her boyfriend properly—without straining her neck. "don't get her started."
you squawk. "bree! you're supposed to be consoling me."
she pouts at you, "I know - i'm sorry." bree swiftly moves towards you, wrapping her small arms over your shoulders sweetly. she smells like broth and caramel perfume, which is an oddly comforting scent. "I just don't like seeing you so stressed."
dougie peeks in the soup pot, humming softly at the sight of the various vegetables swimming among perfectly shredded meat. he turns back to you both, leaning back against the counter as he stares you down. "so are you going to tell me? or do I have to wait for you to leave, which inevitably will have bree spilling her guts."
"dougie!" your best friend screeches, eyeing her boyfriend wildly.
you all but whine, letting your eyes fall closed in pure embarrassment. "I'm screwed." you manage to mumble, one eye peeking open to look over at dougie.
he looks rather amused at your dramatics, and you kind of want to get swallowed up and never be let go. "why?"
you take a deep breath. "because....because I told my mom that I had a boyfriend and was bringing him to christmas."
dougie snorts and bree sends him a warning glare. immediately he stops, playing off the laugh with a small cough. "you don't have a boyfriend."
you eye him irritatedly. "you think I don't know that?" bree, like the most amazing and supportive friend she is, begins gently rubbing your shoulder, grounding you. you take another shaky breath, your earlier pout returning. "I just...my mom was all pushy and wanted me to meet her co-workers son and I just panicked."
bree gently pipes up. "you didn't give him a name or talk about his appearance, y/n/n - it gives you some freedom in trying to find someone. maybe you should re-download hinge and make it known in your bio that you're needing a christmas date."
you pull a face, the thought of scrolling through medacore men who don't meet your ethical standards and are most likely teetering on borderline homophobic doesn't sound appealing - like, at all. "i'm going to pretend I can't go - i'll just tell my mom something came up."
"hold on," dougie steps forward, resting his palms on the island. he looks between you and bree, his brows pulled together as he gathers his thoughts. "you didn't give your mom a name?"
you hum. "or any physical attributes."
a ghost of a smile tugs at his lips, and he looks rather pleased with what we thought he's conjured up in his mind. "hear me out here...what If you take nico?"
you blink once. and then you blink again.
behind you, bree gasps. "that's a good idea!"
you shake your head, clearly confused. "he's not going home for christmas?"
dougie shakes his head. "no, the schedule didn't work in his favour, and his parents can't come out for a four day break. he was telling me today he was just going to be alone at his apartment....but maybe he could go with you."
it's....its actually not a bad idea. you like nico, he's always been so kind and sweet anytime you two have been together - which, granted, was quite often. surprisingly enough, nico and dougie were really good friends, and anytime you, bree and him wanted to go out, dougie would have nico join along. it's been like that for a few years, and the dynamic between you and nico was easy.
but...."no, I can't put him through that. you know how my mom is, and she's going to be all over him! and my sister and her husband, and god I can't have my niece getting attached....I just can't."
"you can." dougie hums, pulling out his phone from his sweatpant pocket. "you're just making excuses - nico won't care if your family asks questions. he's a team player who will easily help you with all your problems." he's busy swiping on his phone, barley glancing at you as he talks. "plus, it's not like he'll be out of your life after this - I already know he will be your fake boyfriend as long as you need him to be."
"dougie, no." you sigh.
"yes."
"no."
"too late," dougie hums, "i'm face timing him right now."
you left watching in horror, dougie coming around to your and bree's side of the kitchen island. you squawk, "absolutely no - dougie don't." 
he's setting his phone up against the vase of flowers in the middle of the counter, displaying all three of you on the ringing face time screen. dougie looks at you, and grimaces. "try and look pretty. you look like a mess - c'mon."
bree smacks his arm. "dougie!"
you're not even going to disagree with him, because you do look like a mess. your hair is slicked back with your own oil - too lazy to get into the shower before coming over. your face is bare and you're in the middle of your period, with lingering hormonal pimples littering along your chin and jawbone. all that combined with your anxious eye bags, dry skin and ice cream stained pyjama shirt - well let's just say you've looked better.
your eyes widen as the sound of the call changes, indicating that nico is picking up the phone. "seriously I don't - heyyy nico." your hushed and panicked whisper towards your best friend's boyfriend quickly changes as nico hischier’s face takes over dougie’s phone screen.
"....hey?" he looks confused, and rightfully so. you're sure the last thing he expected with a call from his assistant captain was to be met with not only him, but his sheepish looking girlfriend and her hot mess best friend as well. his eyes move between the three of you, brows pulled tightly. "you guys okay?"
his accent sounds thicker through the phone, voice deeper....it's kind of comforting and as soon as your brain registers that calm feeling, it lets you spew. you begin telling nico all about your situation, but it seems that dougie and bree has the same idea, and all nico can hear is a jumbled sentence.
"y/n needs your help." dougie says, the words barley reaching nico's ears over bree's - "and she's just really stressed." that combined with your pouty lips as you tell him, "and his name is scott - like what kind of name is scott?"
you all come to a stop, eyeing nico through the phone screen. he adjusts the angle of his phone, giving you a glimpse of his location, which seems to be on his couch. "you're going to have to say that again, y/n. couldn't hear you over dougie's loud mouth."
so you tell nico everything - just you this time - starting with getting the phone call, your mom trying to set you up, your fake boyfriend lie and dougie's reason for the facetime. the entire time nico listens, not even interrupting you once as he digests the spoonfuls of information.
you sigh gently, "and dougie shouldn't of called you, nico. I really don't want to ruin your christmas by dragging you into my mess and-"
"i'll help you out." this time, nico does interrupt you, his soothing voice agreeing to the whole fake boyfriend story you'd thrown at him, cutting off the end of your lengthy ramble.
"really? why?"
he shrugs through the screen, a gentle smile beginning to pull on his face. "i'm not doing anything else. you're my friend, y/n, I want to help you out."
the relief that floods through you is ethereal, and you can already feel some of the stress leave your body. "nico, thank you...thank you, oh my god, okay I'll text you the details."
he grins. "looking forward to it."
the phone call ends just as the soup starts to bubble loudly on the stove, which has bree cursing, skipping back towards her food and turning down the burner. as she returns to stirring the mixture, she shrieks happily, glancing back at you. "no hinge needed!"
"you're welcome." dougie chimes playfully, pocketing his phone before he moves to grab three bowls from the cupboard, ready to serve some of bree’s delicious chicken vegetable soup.
although you're feeling stress free about the actual boyfriend part of finding a fake boyfriend— thanks to the devils captain— there is still the matter of having to prep nico for your family, as well as playing pretend with one another in hopes of convincing your family that you and nico are in love.
....and the stress is back, prickling under your skin in a way that has you jittery. you can only just pray nico doesn't get overwhelmed and ditch you on the side of the road on the way up to the lodge, leaving you to fend for yourself while he speeds back to the city.
bree slides the hot bowl full of soup in your direction, plopping the gold spoon into the liquid before she leaves. you thank her gently, and as you dig in into the meaty broth, you begin to create somewhat of a plan for you and your fake boyfriend.
DAY 1
you text nico after leaving bree and dougie's apartment once you had settled back at your place, assuming your usual lounging position on the living room couch. you send him the main details of your family christmas getaway like the name of the resort and it's location, as well as when you'll be leaving and how long you'll be staying.
thankfully, the devils schedule almost perfectly aligned with your families getaway, meaning that nico would be able to spend the entire holiday season with you and your family—he just has those leave early on the 25th for the boxing day game—which you can't yet decide if you're relieved about or stressed about.
regardless, three days after your impromptu facetime call on dougie's phone, you and nico are packed up in his car, backseat full luggage and various wrapped presents— all ready to head up to the ski lodge.
it’s been 5 minutes since nico pulled out of your driveway, and you still haven't said anything other than your initial greeting. the pressure of the day ahead is knawing away at you, turning your stomach into a wave pool of nerves.
the christmas music flows quietly through the speakers, providing a comforting hum in the background. nico keeps switching his gaze from the road to the side of your face, analyzing your anxious eyes as you zone out, nibbling the skin around your thumb nail.
he sighs gently and with a free hand turns the already quiet music completely off. the lack of the original taylor swift christmas song in your ears snaps you out of your daydreaming, looking over at nico with a tight pull to your eyebrows.
"why does your face look like that?"
you frown, "like what?"
"like you've just shoved your nose full of expired smelling salts," nico smirks at his own joke, glancing over at you once again. "seriously what's going on that head?"
you take a deep breath, your mouth opening and closing like a tiny fish—unsure what you want to admit. you don't want to seem ungrateful for nico‘s help by complaining, and you don't want to look stupid and embarrass yourself for being so nervous about spending christmas with your family. after a moment, you let out a quiet sigh, glancing over at nico.
his flickering gaze is soft—comforting—and it has you faltering, head falling back against the head rest with a thud. "I can't lie." nico huffs a laugh, and you almost scoff at the sound. "i'm serious - I can't lie."
"technically, you're not lying."
you eyes widen comically, looking over at him wildly. "what part of this trip isn't based on a lie."
he sighs gently, fingers flicking on the cars turn signal as he approaches the highway lane. nico has always been so nonchalant in your presence, the complete opposite of you at any give moment, and honestly you're envious of that. he glances at you quickly, pulling onto the highway. "I mean, it's not like we are strangers—we're friends."
you don't say anything, too busy trying to understand what he actually means by that. nico smirks easily at you, "so we only have to pretend that we kiss and well....fuck."
you blush. "nico!"
“it’s true.” amused, he looks at you. "and, well, you can't turn ted anytime makes a suggestive comment.”
groaning, you pull your knees to your chest, creating a spot for you to hide your burning face, tucking your head between your kneecaps. "can't help it." you say, but all nico can hear is your muffled voice making no sense as you talk into your legs.
"it's okay." he reassures you lightly. "so, what's your family like? what do I need to know?" he changes the flow of topic easily, which successfully has you pulling your head up.
"well." you start, voice a pitch higher than normal—contemplating what to say. “my mom she's very.....out there. she's not shy, and her social awareness isn't very high, meaning she doesn't care about strangers or what they think of her." your eyes flicker away from the busy highway infront of you, looking over at nico to gauge his reaction.
he hums, "what else?"
you sigh, eyes finding the road once again. "she also loves me...too much I think. and she always wants what's best for me — even if she thinks that's scott."
"she sounds fun." nico's words take you by surprise, because fun usually isn't the first word that comes to mind after describing your dear mother. you quickly turn your head, but much to your surprise, nico isn't joking. he's being sincere—smiling softly. "honestly she sounds like my mom."
the mention of nico's family has you feeling a bit hallow, and you remember the only reason he's able to help you out is because he couldn't fly out to be with his family. you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling the skin until it feels sore. "i'm sorry about your family, nico. I really wish it would've worked out for christmas."
he shrugs once, glancing back over at you. "it's not your fault. besides, i'm here with you, right? so my christmas is coming together." you deflate slightly, nico's sweet and almost vulnerable words leaving you feeling rather soft. "so who else will be there? besides your mom and this scott guy?"
you huff a laugh, "well I don't know how much of scott we will be seeing now that i'm bringing you, but I do know that my older sister, tammy and her husband brody will be there. along with my niece, taylor - hence the disney princess wrapping paper." you thumb over your shoulder where there are multiple oddly shaped presents, all wrapped in disney paper.
nico snickers, sending you a teasing look. "thought you were just wrapping your own gifts."
"nico!" you laugh sweetly, "you’re ridiculous."
he smiles. "okay, okay. how old is your niece?"
"she just turned 6, back in november." you hum, leaning over slightly to turn the radio back up—only at volume 2—letting the familiar jingles add to the ambiance of the snowy jersey weather.
one of nico's brows raise. "so you've got a birthday twin?"
"wha-how do you know my birthday is in november?" you're clearly baffled, looking at nico like he just told you he met your long lost twin.
he glances at you wildly. "I don't have a brick for a brain! c'mon y/n/n, just because dougie is a stupid hockey player doesn't mean I am."
a dig at your best friends boyfriend never fails to make you chuckle, and you wrap your arms around yourself tighter, keeping yourself warm. although nico was joking around, you still aren't sure how he knew the month you were born in—how he remembered when your birthday was. it's just not something you thought nico would take note of. you don't do big parties for yourself, and you don't even post to social media—bree being one of the only people to celebrate you online.
your laughter dies down gently. "i'm just suprised that you'd remember."
his lips tug downwards in the beginning of a frown. "why would I forget?" nico's eyes flicker to yours once again, holding your gaze with a soft and warm expression. you take in a shaky breath, unable to find yourself wanting to look away from nico. his words, although nothing that deep, feel like the bottom of a warm lake, heating your chest with his question. it's a bare minimum that you've yet to experience with any boyfriend, real or fake.
he clears his throat quickly, eyes flickering away from your face and back through the snowflake covered windshield. "okay, what are our rules here? I don't want you to be uncomfortable with any of this fake dating stuff."
"oh. right, ummmm-" you blink, trying to recover from the abrupt shift in conversation and shift in your heart. "well to start, any question that my family asks about us and how we met, just tell them the truth. no need to fabricate some elaborate story—especially considering i've brought you up before...god my mom is going to die when she sees you." you mumble the last part to yourself, already picturing your moms face when you tell her the nico you're dating is also your friend nico.
he doesn't hear the end of your scentence, and only nods understandably, switching lanes. "got it."
you continue, "and this relationship between us is a new thing-- i'm talking’s within the last two months new. if they ask we say that we were just testing the waters of our relationship. and that gives me an excuse of why I hadn't told my mom about us before tuesday."
"that's good" nico hums appreciatively, clearly impressed with the little plan you'd made for you both. "plus it will make us look less insane when we are all over other and acting lovey dovey. that it’s just the honey moon phase."
your belly swoops, and your eyes widen in a slight panic. "why would we be all over each other?"
nico looks almost dumbfounded at your rushed question, his brows practically touching the edge of the hockey branded beanie sitting across his forehead. "because we are supposed to be dating."
you feel a little stupid in that moment, and when the end of nico's reminder is accompanied by a teasing smile you begin to feel very embarrassed. you try not to face palm, clearing your throat. "right, duh! that makes sense then." nico nods in amusement, which really has you wanting to face palm.
wanting to get back to the earlier discussion of rules, you hum in continuation. "I think cuddling and stuff is fine, right? like we can cuddle on the couch and hold hands in town."
"if you're comfortable with that." nico says, shooting you a glance, taking in your face to try and dissect your expression—trying to find an answer on your face before you say anything.
you laugh once, and even that sounds weird—no wonder nico keeps looking at you. "why wouldn't I be?"
"you're turning red just talking about it."
you face falls. "i'm going to throw myself out of this car."
"no, no." nico chuckles. "any other rules you want to lay down?" his eyes twinkle with playfulness as he shoots you another glance. "like what about kissing?"
obviously you blush because what. you don't let yourself react in the way your body desperately wants to, instead you keep your posture the same, humming in thought. "we don't need to kiss unless absolutely necessary."
once again, your eyes fall back to the driver's side, looking at nico as you wait for his response. you watch him smirk softly, eyes still on the busy roadways as he answers. "sure."
the rest of the car ride is filled with easy conversation and multiple impromptu karaoke sessions— nico laughing anytime you turn the music up and claim that it's impossible to not sing along to a justin bieber christmas song. the easiness of the whole dynamic between you and nico has you feeling much more at ease than you'd been when he first picked you up, and the idea of bringing nico to meet your family is becoming increasingly less stressful.
that is until your mom open the door, squealing in excitement at the sight of you and nico parking in the un-shovelled driveway of the rented ski cabin—waving at you both—your stress levels start to rise back up.
you swallow nervously, the sound of the car engine shutting off setting in your ears - there's no escape now.
"hey," nico mumbles, gathering your attention. he gently reaches towards you and gives your shoulder a reassuring and grounding squeeze. "don't worry too bad. it'll be okay."
all you can muster is a nod, watching through the front windshield as you sister peeks over your moms shoulder, her perfectly styled hair blowing in the wind.
"wanna get the bags now?"
"no," you finally speak, shaking your head. "save them for later just incase we need an escape route."
he chuckles. "okay dramatic - let's go."
with another encouraging nod from the devils captain, you unbuckle your seatbelt, getting out the car along with nico. at the sight of your face, your mom screams, waving at you like a crazy woman from the porch—the woman didn't even put on a coat before coming outside, leaving the door wide open behind her. "y/n, honey! you're here!"
"i'm here." you make your way up the pathway, nico's hand providing a ghostly pressure on your lower back as he trails behind you. "merry christmas momma."
she scoops you into a tight hug, kissing the side of your head repeatedly until it feels like all her lipgloss has transferred to your hairline. "merry christmas! and oh, honey don't be rude—introduce us to this handsome man." over your shoulder, your mom catches sight of nico and his ridiculously charming smile.
he looks so relaxed and happy that you're jealous. you're also jealous that nico manages to look that good after spending 2 hours in a car—but that's not important.
you quickly wrap your arm around nico's torso, bringing yourself into his warm side. nico easily follows suit, wrapping his hoodie covered arm around your shoulders, giving you another comforting squeeze. you smile—extra big—at your mom, rubbing your free hand over nico's covered stomach. "right of course, this is nico. my boyfriend."
recognition flashes across her face, eyes darting between you and your fake boyfriend—who you are currently cuddling with on the cold porch in front of your mom, an action that is very out of the ordinary for you. you can only pray she doesn't think too hard about everything. suddenly, she gasps. "nico?! like your friend nico?"
you scrunch your nose through a faux smile, "that's the one!"
she laughs, "is that why you were so secretive over the phone? so it would be a suprise?"
"yes." you say through gritted teeth, arm tightening around nico's muscular torso, grounding yourself through your white lies.
your mom beams again, hands clutched to her chest as she admires you both - granted your shivering and your toes are borderline frozen.
"it's nice to finally meet you, ms. y/l/n. i've heard so much about you." nico says easily, his accent perfectly complimenting his relaxed tone and demeanour. he removes his arm from your shoulders, and you fight the urge to pout from the lack of warmth, watching as nico puts his hand out for your mom.
she dismisses the formality, moving towards him with her arms wide open. "oh, honey, please call me ella - and i've heard so much about you, I can't believe you're finally here."
your eyes close in embarrassment, face flushing a deep pink as your mom embraces nico.
"mom, let them come in! it's freezing." your sisters honey laced voiced calls out from inside the house, and you can see her making her way back towards the front door, taylor on her hip as she easily saunters over.
your niece happily shouts as she catches sight of you, begging to be put down. tammy obliges, but tells her to wait until you get inside, not wanting a coat and shoeless toddler to walk onto the wintertime porch. behind her, your brother-in-law joins you, smiling and waving at you through the open door before pressing a kiss to your sisters head.
"yes, of course." you mom smiles, turning on her heels and walking through the door. "c'mon in you two, before you turn into ice."
too late—you think.
right before you and nico can pass the threshold into the log cabin, you mom puts her hand out, stopping you with a playful smile ghosting her face. you sister looks borderline fed up, closing her eyes at your moms actions, and brody just looks excited.
confused, you quirk a brow. "what's happening right now? you all look very weird."
you mom points up, "honey, you're under the mistletoe!" you smile falters, your eyes slowly moving up until you catch sight of the array of green mistletoe leaves dangling above you and nico. "it means you have to kiss - house and mistletoe rules."
nico laughs awkwardly beside you, warm eyes also on the festive plant.
"mom, no." you follow suit, chuckling through your discomfort as you set your sights back on your mom.
her brows pull together, a frown overtaking her face. "what, why not? just a little smooch?"
"they just got here, mom. at least let them take off their boots before you make them get to business." you sister—ever the saving grace—tries to move on from the discussion, sending you a wide eyed look behind your moms back.
you nod in thanks, "yeah. don't you think that's a little inappropriate?"
"why would that be inappropriate?" she gawks. "nico doesn't mind, do you?"
"I mean-"
"i'm your child, and you just met him." you interrupt whatever people-pleasing answer nico was about to spew, looking at your mom with an expression mixed up of amusement and bewilderment.
"c'mon, y/n," brody chimes in playfully. "it's not like we are asking you to suck his-" tammy smacks her husbands chest, a warning for him to not finish that scentence. "ouch, babe!"
"little ears." your sister reminds, gesturing to your six year old niece, who is still bouncing on her heels, desperate for you to get inside so she can steal you away. "don't egg her on." tammy is talking about your mom, who is still clueless on why making you kiss your supposed boyfriend when they just meet him is a bit weird.
the whole situation is stressful and overwhelming, and you kind of just want to turn around and make a run for the car. as if nico can sense your anxiety, his grip around you—now with his arm around your waist—tightens ever so slightly, reminding you that you're okay.
you swallow nervously. "let's not make nico-"
you're interrupted by the firm press of nico's lips on your cold cheek, kissing your face gently. the action seems to momentarily silence your family, but soon you can hear your mom cheer happily, mumbling something about how she 'should've taken a picture to send to your aunt shirley'
but you’re too distracted to register anything other than the lingering kiss against your cheek, and there's no doubt that your flesh is warming right under nico's lips. he pulls away, an easy smile taking over his face—like he's not even affected.
brody snickers, "see, y/n? wasn't so hard."
it seems that everyone is satisfied after that, your mom too busy texting on her phone to stop either of you from coming inside—thank god because you're pretty sure the inside temperature has dropped 10 degrees from the door being open.
as soon as you shut the door, taylor comes skipping over, her gapped tooth smile wide as she looks up at you. surprisingly, she doesn't attack you with hugs, but instead stops in front of nico. she looks up at him curiously, her hands resting on her tiny hips. "who are you?"
her bluntness has you laughing, even more so as you take in nico's amused expression, looking down at your niece softly. he bends down to meet her level, placing his hand out infront of her. "I'm nico, i'm your aunties boyfriend. what's your name?"
he already knows her name, but the formality of it all has you melting slightly, watching the interaction with an amused look. her tiny fingers splay over his palm, doing her best at shaking nico's large hand. "i'm taylor. you’re my auntie y/n's boyfriend?" her bright eyes flicker between you and nico curiously.
"I am."
she hums. "but you're too pretty for her."
you gasp, hiding your laughter. joining nico in his crouched position, you drag your giggling niece into your chest, lightly tickling her torso. "excuse you missy!"
"I don't know, taylor. I think your auntie is actually too pretty for me."
"yeah." she shrugs lightly, finally breaking free of your tickling. taylor shuffles back towards nico, "do you want to see my stuffies?"
"you have stuffies?" nico beams, "of course I want to see them." it's instantly that taylor grabs nicos fingers, leading him through the log cabin and presumably towards whichever room she's loaded off her stuffed animals in. you can hear taylor's excited babbling all the way down the hall, accompanied by nico’s enthusiastic responses as they disappear out of sight.
"honey can you go make sure she doesn't bore him to death. I can picture the tea party now." your sister sighs, looking at her husband expectantly.
"yeah," brody then looks at you, a teasing glimmer in his expression that you have grown to recognize. already, you're rolling your eyes. "I can't believe you're fucking an nhl captain y/n. good for you."
"go!" tammy hides her laugh behind her hand, but you can still hear her amusement through the muffled sound. brody waggles his eyebrows in your direction, further teasing you as he leaves.
thankfully your mom had slipped into the kitchen in the time you and nico had been talking with your niece—saving you from facing her after your brother-in-laws ludicrous comment. you can hear brody mutter something along the lines of 'course i'll go talk to the professional athlete, fuck kinda question is that?' — but you can't be so sure.
tammy grabs onto your arms, guiding you into the large, high ceiling living room. from what you've seen of the ski lodge so far, you're very impressed. it's got that rustic christmas feel that reminds you of your childhood, with grand windows and entry ways that overlook the winter scenery. with only a 5 minute drive to the hills, the resort was practically perfect.
you let your sister plop you onto the worn leather couch, the plaid throws scrunching behind your back as they slip around. tammy immediately sits down beside you—close enough that you're touching knees—facing you with wide eyes. "what the hell."
you make a face. "what?"
she scoffs a gentle laugh, eyes darting all over your warm face. "how long have you been crushing on nico?"
"what-what do you mean?" you blush timidly. you're unsure why the question has you feeling nervous—feeling caught—because nico is just a friend. a ridiculously generous friend who immediately agreed to spend christmas with your family to help you out, and is currently playing with your niece just because she wanted him to....its fine, really.
"well you've told me and mom that he was just a friend—you've been saying that for years and now you're dating? what's that about."
"oh, right." you really need to get a hang of the whole fake boyfriend thing, because the amount of times just today you've already forgotten is just criminal, and you're practically begging to get called out. you huff a gentle laugh, tucking your loose hair behind your ear shyly. "I don't know something just....changed."
"clearly." tammy laughs brightly. "how long have you been together?"
you swallow nervously, thinking back to the discussion with nico in the car about this very question. "only a few months. we kept it secret just in case...you know—bree and dougie are the only ones who knew."
tammy nods understandably, but a disgruntled expression quickly forms on her perfectly blushed face. "i'm kind of offended you told dougie before me."
"if it makes you feel any better, dougie was the one who set us up - so I didn't technically tell him anything." the twisted truth comes easily, and you give yourself a mental pat on the back for that one.
"fine. I feel a little better." tammy smiles, shifting her body so that she's tucked against your side, loungewear covered legs bent towards her chest as she relaxes into you. her blonde hair tickles your neck as she tilts her head up towards you, eyeing you with a playful undertone. "he's cute."
"hey! hit on your own man." you try and push her off of you gently, but tammy doesn't allow it, wrapping her arms around you tighter as she laughs.
"i'm just stating the obvious, y/n/n." her nickname for you has you feeling warm and fuzzy, settling back into your cuddly position. you and tammy have always been close, even with your 6 year age gap. you've always done everything together, and told one another all your secrets—so you feel guilty for not telling her about nico, even though it's not real.
"you really like him?" tammy's question is a gentle and sweet whisper, looking up at you like she just knows.
you nod, probably too fast and too enthusiastically—but thankfully tammy isn't paying attention to that, only listening to your words and watching the way your eyes change into a more relaxed and emotional state. "of course," you breathe, smiling. "I mean...he's always been really sweet and kind. always making sure I feel comfortable in a crowded room, checking in on me when he hasn't seen me in a couple days. and well, just today he's made me the most relaxed i've felt in a long time...." you trail off, clearing your throat gently. "sorry, god i'm blabbering."
tammy shakes her head softly, gently grabbing a hold of your hand. "it's okay. it's sweet."
"auntie y/n! look at nico!" the tiny and shrill voice of taylor interrupts the rather tender moment, but thankfully it allows you take take a calming breathe and let your heart rate turn back to normal. your niece skips down the hall, dragging nico behind her as they round into the living room.
the sight of nico has you stifling laughter. "oh...wow."
nico smirks, hands held out as if he was showing himself off. the princess aurora tiara nestled in his brown hair catches the setting sun, sparkling in the dimming light. that combined with the bright pink lipstick smeared around his mouth and the lime green tutu that is 5 sizes too small for a professional athlete around his hips is just too much. "handsome right?"
you hum, nodding sarcastically as he gives you and tammy a spin—showing off taylor's work. "oh yeah."
when nico faces you again, he winks—so quickly you're not even sure if it happened. it has your face warming once again, your sister nudging her pointed elbow into your side as she wordlessly teases you.
what have you gotten yourself into?
after a very amusing hour of dress up—which of course you got dragged into—you all had dinner, thanks to your mom and her random bursts of energy that allow her to cook up roast dinners every other day.
dinner went surprisingly well, and nico seemed to fit into the family dynamic nicely. it was a weight lifted off your chest as you watched him easily discuss sports with your brother in-law and excitingly answer all of your moms borderline intrusive questions. it's full of laughter and honestly you're surprised at how well everything seemingly is going—it's a relief you didn't think you'd get to experience this christmas.
after a long travel day for you and nico, you both decide to retire to bed early, leaving your sister and your mom in the living room— your mother shouting out a general explanation of which bedroom is yours as you go.
you're not sure what you were thinking, but the sight of the large bed in the middle of the room has you feeling nervous, stomach swooping at the thought of having to share a bed with nico. you suppose you believed that some part of your mom still pictured you in highschool with a boyfriend and would make you and nico sleep in separate rooms or beds.
clearly not.
the bed looks absolutely heavenly though, with lots of fluffy pillows and a nice duvet with complimenting throw blankets draped over the corner—you can't wait to sink in and pass out.
nico, who had gone and got your luggage right after dinner, drags both of your suitcases towards the dresser, the gentle click of the handle sliding back into place echoing throughout the room. he turns back to you, "I can sleep on the floor if you're uncomfortable."
your eyes snap away from the luscious bedding and over to nico—he must’ve seen your blank stare. you shake your head quickly, "no - no, we are adults. i'm not going to make you sleep on the floor."
you can practically see the relief on his face and in that moment you're completely convinced that nico would've set up camp on the rug if you asked him to.
you continue, ignoring the weird flutter in your stomach. "plus my mom will probably burst in here every morning to wake us up and I don't want to make up some lie about why my boyfriend is sleeping on the floor instead of in the bed."
"of course." he chuckles, the quiet sound settling through the warmly lit bedroom comfortably. "what side do you want?"
you snicker, waving your hand as if you're trying to appear nonchalant. "oh, i'm not picky."
nico eyes you, one brows raised in question as if he can see right through your attempt at coming across easy-going—you've never even been close to that. "are you lying?"
your shoulders deflate. "yes."
he laughs again, watching as you make your way over to the left side of the bed, tossing your phone in front of the pillows as if you were marking your territory. "it's furthest from the door." you hum like it's obvious, looking at nico with timid eyes.
"sure." he hums softly, eyes lingering one yours for a moment longer before turning away.
nico has his back turned to you, digging through his carry-on in search of his toiletry bag. you watch the way his muscles move, his compression shirt giving you the perfect view of the ripples and hard work he's put into his body. you've never really noticed how in shape nico is—I mean sure you've like noticed he's got muscles because he's a professional hockey player...but you've never appreciated them like you are right now.
"y/n?"
you blink. "huh?"
nico smirks, and you instantly realize he's caught you checking him out. you blush wildly, trying your best not to collapse into an awkward puddle. "I asked if you want to use the bathroom first."
you clear your throat, "no go ahead."
he gives you another knowing smirk before disappearing into the on suite bathroom (which, holy, how nice is this place), travel toiletry bag and a new pair of sweatpants tucked under his arm. as soon as the door clicks shut, you let out a deep breath—one you hadn't realized you'd been harbouring.
thankfully you hadn't worn makeup today, knowing that you’d be travelling—the feeling of being stuck with makeup on your face during the couple hour drive here sounded like a living nightmare. so while nico is busy in the bathroom you quickly change into your christmas red striped pyjamas, shoving your dirty clothes back in your suitcase before nico can see.
the door opens again just as you locate your toothbrush, revealing nico is his team branded sweatpants and...oh he's not wearing a shirt. you swallow heavily, eyes quickly flicking over the expanse of his muscular torso. "bathrooms free." he says, easily moving towards the bed.
you nod. "yeah, thanks."
right before you can shut the door, he calls your name, stopping you in your rather frantic pursuit into the bathroom—which is lingering with the scent of nico's cologne. he smiles at you playfully. "i'll keep the bed warm."
that's it - you're going to drown yourself in the toilet.
DAY 2
you managed to not drown yourself last night—shockingly enough. after nico's fluttering eyes and stomach swooping tease last night, you'd made some stupid joke, one that you can't even remember—you're pretty sure you blacked out. you shut the bathroom door quickly, taking as many deep breathes as you felt applicable.
the entire time you'd been brushing your teeth, you just kept going through calming mantras in your head, desperately trying to grasp ahold of the shit show inside your head. thankfully the rest of the night was easy—easy because as soon as your head hit those inanely comfortable pillows you were out.
the reason for waking up this morning—like expected—was because of your mother, who loudly entered your and nico's room with a tinsel covered sweater and bright smile. "wake up love bugs. taylor wants us all to go into town and look at the trees together!"
you're then hyperaware that nico is obviously still without a shirt, and you happen to be tucked against his bare chest like your life depended on it. his peck, although it doesn't look it, is a surprisingly comfortable pillow. your body stiffen's against him, but before you can roll away, nico tightens his grip around you, keeping you in place.
"give us a few minutes." you manage to tell her, practically rigid against the devils captain. "nico isn't wearing pants." you can hear him make a noise of protest beside you, pinching your hip between his fingers.
"take your time you two!" she sing songs, leaving the room with as much pep in her step as usual. as soon as the door clicks closed, you push off nico, but he doesn't let you get too far, fingers wrapping around your wrist to stop you.
"why'd you tell your mom i'm don't wearing pants?"
"I panicked."
"you're ridiculous—you know she's going to think we had sex now." his amusement is clear, and although it's at the expense of his dignity, nico is enjoying the humor of it all.
you shrug, slipping out of the bed. "hate to break it to you but they already think that."
through the mirror you left your bag in front of, you watch nico eye you from the back, his brows pulled curiously. "and why's that?"
"didn't you know? i'm secretly this like crazy minx who brings different boys to family trips and-" you're interrupted when nico tosses a pillow towards you, his laughter echoing throughout the room.
"get dressed freak."
you think one of your favourite things about being around nico is that no matter how his comments make your stomach swoop and how his gentle lingering eyes leaves your heart pounding, it's always easy to speak with him and just...be his friend.
which you suppose is normal with friends—you think?—its kind of hard to tell. you've only been close with your sister growing up, and then when you met bree in college she became your only other companion. when bree met dougie and inevitably started dating him, it opened up this new world to you; going to events and games, meeting so many people all with different personalities and backgrounds.
meeting nico was different though, because unlike the catalog of people that had come in and out of your life, nico was a constant. in the four years of knowing him, he's always managed to be that person—that friend—you felt you'd been missing. despite always playing nonchalant about your relationship with nico, dismissing him to be just a casual friend, you did really like him and cherish that friendship...and it kind of scares you.
after you moms abrupt wake up call, you and nico quickly got ready for the day, bundling in your warmest clothes to bare the chilly downtown weather—granting your nieces christmas tree browsing wishes.
the town is decorated beautifully, with stunning icicle lights dripping from every building, red ribbon wrapped around poles and pulled into bows at every corner, and the trees—filled with various sized and shaped ornaments that perfectly encapsulate the christmas season.
it feels like something out of a hallmark movie with the gentle pressure of nico's hand in yours, guiding you both behind taylor as she excitedly makes you look at everything. your sister and brody watch in amusement, very used to their daughters excitable personality. and of course your mom makes you and nico pose for hundreds of photos, because she has to 'capture the beautiful moment and the beautiful couple.'
she evens asks for you and nico to kiss—again—but just before you have to make up another excuse, brody chucks a snowball right at your chest. you immediately start hurling them back at your brother-in-law, distracting everyone from another non-kiss moment between you and nico.
after a few hours in town you all head back to the lodge, stomachs ready for some warm food to heat up that achy cold emptiness.
you place the serving tray full of freshly buttered buns in the middle of the table, next to the sour cream and shredded colby jack cheese—both necessities with your moms homemade chilli.
on the other side of the table, nico places one of the last bowls, the ceramic dishes clanking together—it's a peaceful noise, one that's often heard in kitchens. his eyes suddenly flicker towards you, and when he catches your stare a slinky smile curves at his lips. "are you judging my placement right now?"
the tease—so mundane and playful—has your smile growing, butterflies tickling the lining of your growling stomach. "never."
his gaze narrows, "well i'm definitely judging your butter abilities—that spread is so uneven."
you gasp, "think you could do better, hischier?"
"oh," he laughs, "I know I could."
you smirk, picking up one of the grapes sitting loose in the fruit bowl at the end of the counter, tossing it in nico's direction. but like the coordinated athlete he is, catches it in his mouth, chewing the crunchy grape slowly—winking at you while he chews.
"y/n," your mom looks at you over her shoulder, "do you mind just finishing adding the herbs? I gotta run upstairs quick."
"sure." you hum, making your way over to the stovetop, taking the long handled wooden stirring spoon from your mom. she thanks you with a squeeze on your arm before waltzing out of the kitchen, disappearing up the stairs.
as you begin twirling the utensil through the thick chilli, you feel nico come up next to you, his chest brushing against your arm. "why are you stirring it like that?"
you look up at him with wide eyes, your amusement clear. "you are just tearing my cooking apart today."
he laughs, "you're not cooking anything. you're simply just spreading and stirring."
a noise similar to a scoff falls from your mouth, and you tear your gaze away from nico quickly. "i'll spread something all right." you mutter with faux irritation, turning your shoulder away from him.
nico laughs again, chest rumbling against your skin. "that sounded dirty." his forearm wraps around your torso, holding you against his chest.
you're momentarily speechless with the feeling of nico touching you so intimately. your slow stirring comes to a stop, the end of the wooden spoon almost falling into the pot—but you don't notice. your head slowly falls backwards, resting just under nico's collarbone. "what are you doing?" you ask quietly, looking up at him.
nico leans down, his lips brushing against your ears. "what does it feel like i'm doing?" his breath is warm on you and you feel a static travel over your body—from your ears, down to your neck and shoulders, even reaching your toes.
"it feels like you're trying to hit on me." your words comes out breathily, barley reaching your own ears.
"maybe I am," he shrugs, and like he didn't just send your heart plummeting to your stomach, nico says, "your sister is watching us."
discreetly your eyes dance towards the large living room where you catch a glance at tammy—who is trying to not make it look obvious as she stares at you both lovingly, a cheesy smile on her face.
"so the only reason you're touching me is because of the audience?—that's a bit freaky, even for you nico."
he pinches your side lightly, which sends you squirming backwards, further into his embrace—chilli and herbs long forgotten. "i'll take any excuse to touch you, y/n."
nico looks down at you warmly, that boyish grin on his face that makes him look so warm and cuddly. you feel your face heat up at his insinuation, and you look away from his playful expression, bowing your head so you're looking back to the chilli.
"you're so pretty when you blush," nico mummers against your skin, pulling you back to his chest.
your blush deepens, a light laughter bubbling through your chest as you playfully push him away. "you're distracting me."
before nico can say anything else, the distant voice of your mother approaches. "and this is the kitchen! isn't it just so beautiful susan? I mean not just the lodge but the whole resort."
susan? who the hell is—oh my god.
nico watches your face drop, your eyes darting towards the kitchens entryway as the voices grow closer, this susan lady answering your mother just as enthusiastically.
he's quickly back at your side, a gentle hand brushing against your lower back. "what's wrong?" nico's question is hushed—determined.
you're honestly surprised that you can hear his whisper over the blood rushing in your ears. the rush of anxiety that pumps through your blood is overwhelming, and the reason you'd brought nico to your families christmas vacation comes trampling back. you swallow roughly, "susan...she's my moms friend and-"
"guys, this is my friend susan and her son scott!" your moms chipper tone halts your scentence, you and nico watching silently as your mom gestures to the unexpected company.
scott is...actually not that bad to look at—which is a gold star on your moms part. the dark haired man is standing merely few feet away from you as he moves to greet tammy. he's got that finance bro look to him, with a crisp button up shirt underneath his puffer vest—why men insist to wear vests inside is something you'll never understand.
he greets brody like a typical male would, bringing him in for a quick slap on the back—a smile on his face that shows his perfectly white teeth.
"y/n, honey this is scott." you mom singles you out, which of course she does, pointing towards scott with a wink in your direction.
you can feel nico stiffen against your back, his forearm snaking back around your waist. before you can think, you let your hand rest over nico's, interlocking your fingers between his resting against your torso.
"nice to meet you, y/n." he greets with a grin. "i'm scott. i've heard so much about you."
"you too, scott." you smile politely. "this is nico-"
"her boyfriend." nico finishes your scentence firmly, the hand that wasn't around your body jutting out on the other side of your body for a handshake. 
scott breathes a laugh, shaking his hand. "boyfriend, huh? lucky guy." briefly scott's eyes flicker back towards you, eyeing you with a look you can't decipher. you feel yourself shrinking further back into nico, seeking that comforting aura that is the devil's captain.
"very much so." he agrees firmly, squeezing the flesh of your hip. there's a tense moment of eye contact between the two men, almost like a wordless battle of alpha male energy—which isn't very like nico.
scott hums curiously. "you look really familiar. do I know you from somewhere?"
"must have one of those faces." nico answers modestly, shrugging his shoulders once.
tammy waltzes into the kitchen, followed by her husband who is holding taylor in his arms. hearing the tail end of the conversation, brody pipes in with a quick laugh. "he looks familiar cause he's the devils captain dude—we are in the presence of jersey royalty."
"a professional athlete?" scott questions, that curious but condescending tone still laced in his voice. "bit unstable, no? unpredictable with trades and that?"
"can be. thankfully i've been lucky enough to have been with the devils since 2017."
"lucky indeed." once again, scott's eyes flicker back to you—giving you that awkward and uncertain feeling.
sensing the tension, tammy quickly intervenes. "taylor did you want to show scott and susan your stuffies before dinner is plated?"
taylor glances towards the two guests. "no." then her tiny brown eyes move towards you and nico, and instantly she's skipping towards you both. "nico can you sit beside me at dinner?"
something prideful blooms in your chest at taylor's request and dismissal of scott and his rather uncomfortable presence. "I don't know taylor," you begin teasingly, "I wanted to sit beside nico first."
she laughs, her adorable toddler giggle like music to your ears. "how about we both sit with nico."
you hum in faux thought. "should we ask him? see what he thinks?"
"yes." she giggles.
nico, who has obviously heard the entire interaction, pretends like he was unaware of the conversation happening quite literally in front of him—he ponders the question playfully, index finger tapping against his chin. when he tells taylor that he will sit with both of you, her tiny face lights up, and you can't help the way yours does as well.
dinner is served very quickly after, brody on serving duty as he fills every bowl with a hefty amount of chilli. the dinner runs relatively smoothly, saved for a few condescending questions from scott asking about only nico. for somebody who was seemingly trying to get to know you—despite having a boyfriend—scott seems to be really interested with the man beside you rather than you yourself.
thankfully only an hour after dinner and enduring painfully boring conversation with susan and scott, they end up leaving to go back to their lodge, and that god because you desperately are ready for sleep by that point—excusing yourself and nico as you head towards the bedrooms for another much needed nights rest.
you pull the duvet back, creating enough space for you to climb in.
nico follows suit, slipping under the cool flannel sheets. "scott seems..."
you interrupt his trailing thought. "like an asshole?"
"yeah." he breathes. "truly what is that guys deal?"
"I don't know." you roll onto your side, facing nico with a huff. "I can't believe my mom still invited them to dinner. even though susan is supposedly her friends—who, by the way i've never heard of before tuesday. I thought she would've at least...I don't know, respected my boundaries? i'd that fucked up to say?"
nico shakes his head against the pillow. "no, it's not."
you groan, your irritation clear. "and then when she first introduced us and she winked at me? like hello what is that about? because as far as she's concerned i'm clearly not looking for a relationship. I brought you here for this exact reason and-"
"hey," nico breathes gently, gathering your attention by running his hand over your pyjamas sleeve covered arm. "it's okay, you're okay. I understand that you're feeling stressed and frustrated but don't get in your head about this."
you take a deep breath, nodding.
nico continues, "I don't think she had any malicious intentions with inviting them to dinner. I think she was pleasing people—like you would."
"I just wish her people pleasing didn't involve a literal walking bag of crap."
nico breathes a quiet laugh at your insult. "she just wants what's best for you, y/n—like you said. she doesn't realize that it's making you uncomfortable and she's too distracted by it all to notice that scott is 'a literal walking bag of crap.'"
your lip tugs upwards slightly.
"you should talk to her about it."
you groan, face rolling into the fluffiest part of your pillow. "I think as my boyfriend you should tell her for me."
"i'm not actually your boyfriend." he laughs.
you scoff. "way to ruin the mood."
nico's smile is barley visible through the dark bedroom, but you can still see it and the sight had you following suit, a grin taking over your face. he rest his head on his bicep, facing you. it all feels so intimate and precious that you never woke to forget it.
your heart beat feels like it's dangerously fast, making you feel the best kind of nervous. you're glad the room is dark because you blush, clearing your throat. "i'm so happy that you're here nico. I don't know what I would've done today if you weren't here."
his smile falters slightly as he swallows thickening salvia, eyes trained on your face softly through the moonlit room. "i'm happy i'm here too..with you."
DAY 3
you peer down the snow covered hill, gnawing on your lip in an unsure manner. "does it seem bigger from up here?" your hands wrap around the ski poles tightly, desperately trying to keep yourself from moving forward.
nico expertly slides in front of you, his skis bumping yours. "do you want to go back down? we can just walk back to the lodge if you're feeling scared."
you shake your head quickly. "i'm not scared...im just worried about falling on my face." truth of the matter is that you are feeling scared—scared because you actually hadn't skied since you were 10, and you'd actively avoided the actual ski part of your holiday trips by sitting in the lodge and reading whatever book you'd been into since then—but not this year.
nico wanted to get out on the hills, and even though he said that he didn't mind if you wanted to stay at the house or even in the holiday themed ski lodge, you didn't want him to feel alone out there, especially because he's doing you a favour in just being apart of your families christmas—so here you are on top of the ski hill. plus, any excuse to get away from scott, which of course your mom invited him and susan to spend the day with you all, you'd take.
"you're not going to fall on your face." nico tells you, his tone gentle as he looks down at you.
"you don't know that." you say. "what happens if my ski catches a divet in the ice and I go head over heels into the snow?"
he laughs gently. "the only reason you'll fall is because your hairs in your face—here." nico ditches his poles in the snow, and with glove covered hands he reaches towards your face. gently he tucks your hair underneath your hat, pushing away any hairs that have fallen out from your braid.
you swallow, eyes flickering over his face. "i'm a little nervous." you finally admit.
"it's okay to be nervous." nico adjusts the strap of your goggles over your pink helmet, moving it into a proper position. "it's also okay to back out."
"I don't want to back out." you huff. "I want to do it."
his lip tugs upwards in a half smile. "yeah?"
"yeah." you nod. "but you have to do it with me." you both make your way—you very cautiously—towards the edge of the slope. "i'm serious nico."
"I won't leave your side, okay? fix your knees like I showed you earlier...yup, just like that." he watches you intently, making sure you're in a proper position. nico finds your face again, an apprehensive look in his eyes. "you sure?"
"think so." you hum. "it’ll be fine." before you can decide to back out, you manually push forward until your skis take over, sliding down the first dip of the hill, sending your downward.
the sound of your skis slicing through the icy snow is a rather relaxing sound, one that has a smile breaking out on your face. the feeling of quickly moving through time, with the cool air kissing your exposed cheeks is rather freeing, and for a moment you're not thinking about anything other than yourself and nico.
you can hear nico follow suit, following your tracks within a safe distance. "good! keep your blades a little bent! like pizza." he calls to you, voice travelling through the wind whipping past your ears.
"am I doing it?!" you question loudly, eyes still casted forward as you reach the middle area of the slope, continuing the rather speedy descent down the snowy hill.
"you're doing it." nico answers proudly—a boyish chuckle following.
"oh my god!" you scream happily, "i'm doing it." you slide over a small lip on the hill, propelling slightly into the air. miraculously, you land with only a small teeter in your legs, continuing to ski downwards.
in a moment of excitement, you turn to look over your shoulder, eyes wide and full of disbelief as you find nico. "did you see that?"
his face falls. "y/n, watch out!"
as soon as nico's warnings finishes, you feel somebody slam into you, affectively sending you off balance and smacking towards the ground. you feel the snow cover your face as you land, and you groan out, eyes closing as a quick wave of pain washes over you.
"holy fuck—y/n are you okay?" the voice sounds a little distant to your ears, like they are muffled. they help you sit up, gently cradling your biceps with their hands as they pull you into a sitting position.
you squint in attempt to focus your vision, blinking quickly to clear the blur. "what?"
nico's concerned face slowly appears in your eyesight. "are you okay?"
you groan again. "I think so."
he breaths loudly—a sound of relief. his hands move from your arms and towards your face, un-clipping the helmet strap from under your chin. nico pulls the hot pink protective gear off your head, leaving you with your damp beanie and snow coated braid. "you scared me for a second there. does anything hurt?"
"not really, maybe just a little sore and bruised." you swallow gently as you watch nico as he gently moves your head from side to side, checking for external injuries. his gaze is so intense—so focused. the embarrassment and lingering pain in your limbs has you feeling emotional, and your lip trembles. "i'm sorry."
instantly, nico's eyes snap back to yours. "don't apologize." he watches the way your eyes begin to well up with tears, quickly looking around as if you're seeing how many people are watching you. immediately he knows you're feeling embarrassed on top of everything else, and he pulls you into his chest, pressing a quick kiss against your hairline over your knitted hat.
you can barley feel the kiss, but it's enough to where the gesture has you melting—melting because he wasn't doing it because somebody in your family is watching or making him…nico simply just wanted to.
"you're okay." he mumbles against your hat.
"I think I wanna walk the rest of the way." you mumble waterly, attempting to joke.
he smiles against you, "you think so?" pulling back, he meets your eyes, a boyish grin on his face. the sight instantly has you feeling better, and with a small grin you nod.
nico helps you remove your boots from the ski blades, popping open every latch and button so you're easily able to slip out of the boot slot. he follows suit with his own ski's, freeing himself of the blades hold so he's left in only the chunky boots.
a familiar voice calls your name, approaching you and nico. "shit i'm sorry." scott says, stopping in front of you with his ski's tucked under his arm. "I didn't realize it was you."
nico stiffens. "you hit her? seriously?"
"I just said sorry man." scott huffs. "no need to get all annoyed."
his brows raise is pure shock, eyes squinting accusingly in the shorter man's direction. "sorry doesn't help. what if she got seriously hurt?"
"she didn't though."
nico breathes in disbelief. "that's not the point."
scott takes a step back, "relax, dude."
"she's my girlfriend. I can't relax."
"whatever." scott looks back towards your shy face, offering you a sympathetic shrug. "sorry again y/n."
you nod once. "thanks."
that's all it takes for scott to leave again, practically jogging away from the both of you, back down the hill. he disappears behind the slope of the hill, and immediately nico is turning back to you, his expression that was only moments ago hard and strong, now soft. "he doesn't deserve your apology."
"I know." you breathe. "but I was done listening to him."
nico nods understandably, but he looks slightly worried—guilty maybe? "are you upset with me about that?"
"no. i'm glad you were here to defend me honestly. I would've crumbled under the pressure of my own need to be a people pleaser." you laugh lightly.
the ghost of a smile takes over his face. "promise?"
you nod. "help me down the hill? I need you right now—my hips a little sore."
in an instant nico is grabbing you, careful of your sore hip as he wraps an arm around your torso. "let me know if you need to stop at all, okay?"
you both begin to slowly walk down the hill, nico dragging the ski stuff behind you. "you worry too much." you tease him, gaze flickering to his face.
he breathes a laugh, not looking away from the hills. "yeah I worry cause I—" he pauses briefly, a gentle gulp following. "cause you're my friend, y/n."
"your friend?" you question his choice of words quietly—timidly.
finally, he meets your eyes. "yeah."
there's a moment then, where you're looking at one another with eyes that say a million things your mouths can't yet. you're unsure whether or not nico was about to admit to something—deeper feelings—before correcting himself, and you're not sure if you'll ever know.
but you're too scared—to anxious—to find out. because if it's not the answer you're hoping for, your christmas eve will be ruined, and your heart will be broken.
you laugh, breaking the tension. "that's not very fake boyfriend of you to say."
nico blinks once, but soon his expression changes into a more playful one, eyes twinkling with amusement. "c'mon y/n/n."
the warm bubbles are slightly ticklish against your skin, but it's a pleasant feeling. you sink further into the hot tub, letting the jets and heat do their job on your sore body.
as the sun started setting through the kitchen window, the pain of your earlier incident was only getting worse, and you could barley move without hissing in pain.
after the 8th groan of discomfort during jim carey's grinch, your mom suggested the hot tub. aftet all what good were you trying to put presents under the tree if you couldn't even bend over to pick them up.
the almost instant relief from the hot tub was enough to have you moaning out, submerging up to your shoulders and letting the water splash up your neck.
a beat passes and the sliding door sounds, opening into the cool night. "hey, got the presents from my car." nico stands by the entrance, peering through the dimly lit deck over in your direction.
"did you give them to tammy?" you question gently.
"I did." nico hums, gently shutting the door behind him. "you okay in there?"
"getting there." you sigh, eyes carefully watching as nico makes his way through the covered deck—no doubt the cold snow covered his feet in the slides he’d slipped on before getting the presents.
"anything you need from me?"
the nighttime pain reliever you’ve been popping since getting back from the lodge has you feeling a bit sleepy and loopy—completely erasing any kind of filter you have. you raise a brow, squinting at him through the mist coming off the water. "I want you to get in."
he laughs gently, resting his hands against the edge of the tub as he looks over at you. nico takes his lip between his teeth briefly, eyes flickering over your submerged figure. "didn't bring a bathing suit."
"nico." you whine, dragging his name out.
"you can't get upset with me," he smirks, "you didn't tell me there'd be a hot tub."
"okay, well just strip down into your underwear and get in." you breathe, "promise I won't look." you hold your hand up like your in scouts, looking up at him with most puppy-dog expression you can manage.
"y/n..." he trails off, almost like a gentle warning.
you continue. "i'll even let you have one of my three towels afterwards so you don't have walk back inside in just your underwear.”
his brows pull together. "why did you bring three towels?"
"I like to be extra warm—just get in."
a moment passes—practically watching the gears turn in nico’s head as he debates your ask. just when you think you’ll have to beg again, desperate to have nico close to you, he sighs, pushing off the edge of the hot tub. in one swift motion he pulls his hoodie off, his muscles flexing beneath his rising t-shirt, exposing nico’s hard v-line and happy trail.
you smile in satisfaction, watching as he continues to shed his clothes until he's left in just his black boxer shorts. you try your best to not stare—you really do—but when your fake boyfriend happens to be that muscular and hot, it's hard to keep your eyes away.
he quickly steps into the steaming hot tub, joining you under the water. "happy?"
you smile triumphantly. "very much. I feel better already."
"I bet you do."
a beat passes, only the sound of the running jets to be heard through the night. it's very relaxing, and with nico with you it now feels 10 times better. under the water you extend your leg until your foot gently nudges his leg—grabbing his attention. "thank you again for today. for everything, I just...i'm really happy that dougie called you for me. because I would've been too nervous to ask you myself."
his brows raise. "why would you have been nervous?”
shyly, you shrug. "I don't know, I just didn't want you to think I was...taking advantage of you or something."
"I wouldn't have thought that—I don't think that." nico moves closer to you, the warm water sloshing around slightly as he comes to a stop in the seat beside you. instinctively you turn your body towards him, eyes curious and knowing all at once.
a beat passes.
"did you know when I was a kid on christmas eve I used to convince my sister that if she didn't let me have her last advent chocolate santa wouldn't come."
you grin. "you didn't."
he laughs. "I so did. and I remember feeling like such a badass about it to. then when she found out that santa wasn't real and I was simply just conning her into an extra chocolate she lost it—and I mean lost it."
"what did she do?"
"obviously she told my parents, which was expected." nico hums. "but she also smashed my game system—like completely destroyed it with our dads hammer."
you gasp, "no."
"yeah and I cried like a baby."
you laugh gently.
nico continues. "looking back now I definitely shouldn't of been so sneaky. and now every christmas I always buy her an advent calendar as an apology."
"that's kind of cute." you coo sweetly.
his eyes soften at the sound, watching your head tilt in admiration. "you would really like her. you two are kind of similar."
you stifle a knowing laugh. "after hearing how she smashed your gaming stuff I think I have to agree—one year I sent taylor's favourite scarf for a trip in the fireplace."
nico snickers, "you little rebel."
"don't laugh," you smile. "she had taken my favourite babydoll I'd opened that christmas and covered the entire face in marker. so instead of going to my parents like I should have, I just threw her scarf right in the fire."
"damn," he breathes. "remind me not to steal your baby dolls."
"oh since then i've kept them all locked away, so you'll never find them." your eyes glisten with a playful shimmer, looking at nico teasingly. he mimics your lighthearted expression, a warm smile pulling on his lips.
your eyes wander to his exposed arm, catching sight of the familiar pattern of ink on his inner arm. "i've always like this one." slowly you reach out, tracing the tattoo with a wet finger.
"yeah?" he watches the way your touch moves over the artwork, your fingers leaving a wake of goosebumps on his skin—despite the heat from the hot tub, chills run over his body.
"yeah." you nod. "does it mean anything?"
"it's my families star signs," he points to the first one, tracing the greek symbol. "they all bleed into one another, almost like it's representing a family line."
“nico that’s…really cool.” you smile gently. "when did you get it?"
he laughs gently, a blush coating his cheekbones. "long time ago."
you snicker, eyes flickering back towards his face and away from the sentimental tattoo on his string bicep. “alright old man.”
he quirks a brows at you, amused. "we're the same age."
playfully you shush him, bringing your finger towards his plump lips in a silencing motion.
quickly, nico grabs your wrist, pulling your tiny hand away from his face. his firm yet teasing grasp around your hand sends your skin into a flurry of flames, igniting under his warm palm.
his eyes flicker between your eyes and your pouty lips as if he can't decide where to look—what to do.
you lean in ever so slightly, scared that if you move too suddenly you'll wake up from a dream. nico's hold on your hand changes, fingers trailing down your wrist and off your arm.
his hand finds your slick thigh under the bubbly water, and your heart feels like it's going to jump out from your ribcage with how hard and intensely its beating. as nico's thumb begins to rub along your skin, pleasantly tickling your thigh, you think you may just die.
your hand inches towards his torso under the water, your fingernails just scraping softly against his abs—
"I should get out." nico mumbles. "I haven't packed yet and I gotta leave before 9."
you swallow the disappointment you're feeling, blinking away your emotions as you pull your hand away. "yeah. sure."
he gets out of the hot tub, and you can't even watch him as he does. nico wraps himself in one of your towels before gently looking back towards you. "i'll see you inside, okay?"
you hum in acknowledgment.
and then he leaves.
you mope in the hot tub a little bit longer than expected, and by the time you finally drag yourself back inside the only person awake is your mom.
she sits on the couch silently, finishing up some last minute wrapping of what seems like a gift for brody—some football jersey for a team you don't recognize. "feel better honey?" she asks.
you nod once. "yeah, thanks." you start to walk further into the home, towards the stairs, but your mom stops you, calling out your name quietly.
"before you go upstairs," she sighs, "I just wanted to say i'm sorry about scott. I shouldn't have even put that idea in your head when I called you and I shouldn't have invited him and susan around the that times I did. he was not only disrespectful towards you, but he was disrespectful towards nico and your relationship."
your chest warms. "thanks mom. it's okay."
"but I already invited them for breakfast after presents tomorrow—honestly susan is kind of a bitch and the last thing I need is for her to fuck me over to corporate because I didn't have her and her asshole son over for breakfast."
you snort, which has your mom joining in on the hughes laughter. you're truly not upset about that, and if anything the whole thing is so authentically your mom that you're almost glad she invited them.
just when you think she's done, your mom continues with a twinkle in her eyes. "I must say y/n, I've never seen you happier or more comfortable in a relationship that what i'm seeing when you're with nico. honey I don't know why it took you so long to realize there was something more between you because nico is special."
you feel tears well up in your eyes, a million unsure emotions coming to a tilt in your throat. you nod. "yeah. he is."
DAY 4
"do you really have to go?" taylor's tiny voice wobbles with emotion slightly, looking up at nico with her wide animated eyes.
he crouches down to her level, soft gaze unwavering. "unfortunately. I have to work tomorrow.”
"okayyyy." she pouts. "maybe next time you can bring your stuffies for the tea party."
"that's a great idea." he grins at the way your jives face lights up, already giddy at the thought of the next party.
your mom suddenly cooes, moving towards the front door where nico stands with his suitcase. she frowns at him, "honey thank you so much for coming, you've been wonderful."
he stands to his full height, embracing your mom as he wraps her arms around him in a familiar hug. "thank you for having me."
you watch silently, gnawing the skin around your thumb anxiously. you'd been dreading this since you were awoken at 7 by your niece for presents, and saying goodbye to nico today was weighing on you heavily—even with the lingering unspoken words from last nights abrupt departure.
"safe driving, nico." tammy smiles towards him kindly.
brody chimes in, "yeah man, can't have you going down. the devils need you."
your fake boyfriend laughs gently, nodding. "i'll try my best to get home in one piece." then nico's eyes flicker towards you, a soft yet sad expression pulling at his face. he takes a deep breathe, plastering on a bigger smile. "i'll see you when you're home."
you nod, your own forced smile on. "i'll see you then, nico." there’s an unspoken meaning with the goodbye—one that feels permanent and you hate it. with one more emotional glance in your direction nico waves goodbye to your family….and then he leaves.
the hallow feeling that runs through your bones is almost painful, your eyes trained on the spot he was just standing. a million feelings run through you at once—hurt, anger, confusion, warmth, guilt. it's all one big stressful ball, but yet somehow through all that you know there's real feelings for your friend there, ones that have been making your heart run ramped and your stomach flip around with butterflies for years.
"hey," scott's quiet voice interrupts your thoughts, looking over at you with flirtatious eyes. "if things with lover boy don't work out, ill be here." you’d honestly forgot him and susan were here, arriving just after taylor had tore through all her presents for breakfast.
it had you rushing to open your present from nico—because of course he bought you a present—his jersey and a handbag you’d been wanting for years. a handbag that only taylor knew you loved, meaning that he talked to your best friend to get you the perfect christmas gift.
and yeah…you really like nico hischier.
blinking out of your thoughts, you properly turn and face scott. "that will never happen."
you look around the room at your family, who have now all resumed their normal routine throughout the home. taylor’s making your brother-in-law open every new toy so she could play with them, while your mom and susan busy themselves in the kitchen, talking while the kettle boils for another round of coffee.
you catch tammy's eyes and she nods—knowingly. you breathe a sigh of what feels like relief, and a tiny smile begins to pull at your lips. "i'll be right back." you mutter, and before you even realize what you're doing, you slip on somebodies slides, leaving out the front door.
the wind blows right though your gingerbread pyjamas, the cold biting against your skin—but you don't care as the only thing you can think about is him. "nico!"
the sound of your voice has him pausing, rounding from the back of his vehicle where he was loading his suitcase in. nico’s brows pull together tightly, looking and feeling rather confused as you hurriedly make your way towards him—merely slipping out of your shoes as you hit a patch of ice.
"what are you doing?" he questions.
"don't go." you words a rushed, looking up at him with a shy confidence in your eyes.
nico sighs quietly. "I don't really have a choice."
you shake your head, eyes closing in frustration. "I know - fuck don't don't go just stay...for a second."
"what are you trying to say, y/n?"
"I like you - like really like you." finally you break, looking towards nico with nothing but vulnerability on your face. "and I think deep down I always knew that, but something about this weekend...watching you interact with my family and seeing how much they like you—it's amplified everything to 100."
you swallow the lump forming in your throat, trying your best at keeping your voice steady as you continue. "and I really didn't think i'd be chasing after a guy in my pyjamas this weekend, but here I am. because you're not just some guy, nico. you're the guy. and I can't let you leave without saying that because I don't think i'll ever have the courage to say it again."
nico swallows. "I can't believe you just told me that." he pauses, a small laugh bubbling past his lips. "and right when I have to leave. because now I really want to stay."
you let go of a breath you weren't aware you were holding, relief rushing over you body at his words.
he continues. "I like you so much it's not even funny."
"you do?" you question shyly.
"yes." nico takes a step towards you, now close enough to reach out and touch. "you're my favourite."
"favourite what?" you whisper.
"everything." he reaches out, gently taking ahold of your face between his cold palms. his thumbs stoke along your cheeks comfortingly, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes as his gaze moves towards your lips. "what was the rule about kissing again?"
you inhale sharply, your own eyes watching nico's lips inch closer and closer towards yours. "only if absolutely necessary."
"thought so." nico's words are mumbled between you, lips brushing against yours before he finally closes the gap, connecting your mouths in a much desired kiss.
in that moment it's hard to think about anything other than the skillful and practiced kisses nico is giving you, his hand nestled at the base of your skull as he holds you to him, but one thing you do know is that you should've done this fake boyfriend thing years ago.
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tigreblvnc · 1 day ago
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Best thing that could have been announced for 2025. My favorite game is coming back with a second opus after more than 19 years. Can't wait to play this new game.
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Okami Sequel - Project Teaser
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alllgator-blood · 16 hours ago
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'FOGGY STREETS AND CHRISTMAS LIGHTS'
(part 3/3)
I'm gonna infodump about the backstory of this comic, don't feel obligated to read it because it's not cotl related it's just personal stuff, I just want to be able to write about it somewhere cause I can't really talk to anyone about it.
As always, thanks for reading this far, sorry my stuff has been such a bummer so consistently. This comic goes out to all my "christmas induced depression" homies, I left my house maybe like ~5 times all month and it was NOT pleasant hearing "IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR!!" on the radio when I'm so ready for it to be over. Gonna take it reaaaaal easy til the year ends, you guys take it easy too!! Got some asks I have to respond to when I'm more stable but probably no new comic pages til january
Alright uhhh so this part of the comic is pretty much taken directly from the last time I saw my great-grandma alive, a few days before christmas. She didn't remember me, but at the nursing home there was a piano, and I sat down and played some stuff because I didn't know what to say. I was really into lisa the painful rpg at the time, and I played that "I've got the joy" song that the villain sings without realizing it was an old christian campfire song. She didn't really say much or move that whole night, just kind of gave me a polite blank smile, but started singing the words when I played the notes to that song.
I kinda stopped in shock, my dad frantically asked me to keep playing, so I did. While the comic I made is way more sappy than the actual moment was, I wish I'd cherished the moment longer. I didn't know it was the last time I'd see her alive. Every family christmas was held at her house when she was around, so it's been weird the past few years. I actually lost another dementia-addled grandma to cancer on christmas eve in 2009, so the holiday was already kind of weird for me on top of everything else that makes me sad this time of year. That's what part 2 was about, I'll spare the details but I wrote leshy to act out how I felt back then. Why are we all sad? This is supposed to be a happy time, all the decorations are up and we're almost all here, so why is everyone smiling yet everything feels so wrong? I feel like since leshy's canonically the most ignorant one to things lurking below the surface, he'd be the one to try and make everyone feel better but not quite understand why everyone is so miserable. My first memory of having self injurious behavior came from then, hence why I had leshy pull his leaves off in the last comic. It was confusing and frustrating and I was just old enough to comprehend something was wrong, but not old enough to understand the depth of it, it DEFINITELY didn't help that nobody helped me back then so I made leshy's siblings actually come in clutch instead of grabbing him/yelling at him.
That night with the piano was something that's stuck with me the few years she's been gone, but I felt kind of strange when I asked my dad and my sister about it and neither of them remembered it. The room we were in was completely empty so nobody else witnessed it but us three. I myself have a history of head trauma and memory loss (plus, native americans are disproportionately more likely to develop dementia... lucky us) so if I ever forgot about that moment, there'd be nobody left to remember it. Sometimes when I do comics, it's my way of going "this happened at some point, and the only evidence it ever happened was me witnessing it, so if something happens to me I want the memory to stay alive in some form."
Anyway. The autistic urge to overshare, am I right? Idk what my religious ass great-grandma would think of me drawing demonic comics about my last memory of her, she'd probably think it's funny though cause she raised my dad whose interests have always been "death metal and devil worship". I'm not sure if anyone read this far, I just hope my dumb comics can convey the things I can't say with my voice and struggle to say through text. None of this was supposed to be "feel bad for me!! Woe is me!!", it was supposed to me more like...cathartic? Healing? I almost didn't post this comic because it felt kinda weird, but seeing people connect with it made it worth it imo. Thank you
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cybershock24601 · 2 days ago
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I usually hate modern aus but can't stop thinking about my Rook pulling up to the big double gates of the Dellamorte Estate in her beat up old SUV she inherited from Varric, driving down the long driveway to this old, historic, three story mansion before getting out to ring the doorbell in her scuffed up Doc Martins, thrifted goth couture, and jingling with every step with the amount of bracelets, necklaces, and chains she's got on her with a giant bouquet of red roses in hand. Lucanis practically flings the door open with excitement and takes the roses with the biggest, sappiest smile and then quickly starts ushering Rook back into the car while she's in the middle of saying something dumb and cheesy like "your chariot awaits" because he doesn't want Caterina or Illario showing up.
Meanwhile Caterina and Illario are posted up in one of the upstairs windows with opera glasses to catch a glimpse of Lucanis' mysterious new sweetheart and are sharing mutual looks of disgust as they watch Lucanis and his three piece designer suit (because he panicked and way overdressed for the chic wine bar Emmrich suggested they go check out for date night) get his ass in the dirty 20 year old junker Rook is driving around in. After all these years single the fact that Lucanis is settling for whatever the fuck Rook has going on (because she definitely radiates gremlin energy) is absolutely baffling.
The fact that the car is covered in bumper stickers that say things like "I EAT SAND just a little sometimes as a snack" and "these curbs aren't gonna hit themselves!" is not helping Rook's first impression. To be fair to Rook though half the stickers on the car are left over from the Kirkwall Crew slapping them on over the years but Rook did add those two herself because she thought they were funny.
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whoops-all-jennas · 3 days ago
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We'll Meet Again - w.a.
Wednesday Addams x witch!reader
Summary: While exploring what remains of the meeting house, Wednesday discovers that you and her were destined to meet.
a/n: I'm mostly writing this to see how I feel about an idea for a longer fic, so I guess see this as a potential preview :)
Warnings: Violence, Death, Small mentions of blood
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The sound of Wednesday's and your footsteps echo among the trees of the forest, the leaves having beautiful shades of yellow, red, and orange.
You both are following the instructions Tyler gave you to find the old meeting house. Well, more like you're following Wednesday, but that's what's expected.
You always followed Wednesday around like a lost puppy, but you weren't ashamed about it and Wednesday didn't seem to mind too much either.
When you both approach the building it's pretty much nothing but ruins of what it use to be, like Tyler said.
You hated him ever since what he did to Xavier, but now there's a new feeling. You can't exactly place it, but it's the strongest whenever he looks at Wednesday with that stupid look on his face.
Like she is the night sky and he is a kid fascinated by space.
You wonder if you look at Wednesday the same way, but you get brought out of your thoughts when you hear a voice.
"I expected more too." Wednesday says looking down at Thing.
"What are you doing here little girl?" A man with a scruffy white beard and layers of rough clothes appears from one of the corners.
"Use the words 'little' and 'girl' to address me again and I can't guarantee your safety."
"This is my place, get out!" The man shouts towards you both.
"Y/n a hand here." Wednesday looks at you with an expecting look on her face before you pull out your wand and point it towards his pants near his feet.
"Ignis Illusio." The pants near his shoes catch on fire, startling the man.
He jumps trying to the pat the fire out, making noises of panic while running out of the building. Ignis Illusio, or fire illusion, is a harmless charm that merely creates the illusion of a fire.
Wednesday immediately starts looking around again. "There's nothing here."
"What if you just started touching stuff? see if you can activate a vision or something?" You suggest looking around not really expecting to find much.
"My visions happen spontaneously, I don't believe that would work." You're admiring the sound of her voice before you see Thing tapping on the ground.
"I would rather dye my hair pink than ask my mother for advice." You try to hold back your smile at the idea of Wednesday with pink hair.
Thing gestures back to your idea of touching stuff in hopes of triggering a vision.
"You want me to prove it to you?"
Wednesday places her hand on a wooden beam.
"No."
She continues and places her hands on the mantle of a fireplace.
"Nothing."
She starts to approach an empty Taco Bell bag.
"Wends, I think we get it." You say as she grabs the bag, giving you a look for referring to her with a nickname.
"I bet this one will give us some insight." She holds the bag in front of her and throws her head back, pretending to have a vision, before dropping the bag to the ground. She walks past you and, like usual, you start following her again.
"My visions are as predictable as shark attacks" You hear her mutter to herself before grabbing the handle to the entrance and proceeding to throw her head back, actually entering a vision this time.
"Wednesday!" You shout before you go to catch her.
-
Wednesday's surroundings suddenly change as she stumbles to the ground. She hears people chanting phrases like "Burn her!" and "Devil spawn!"
She looks to the side and sees a crowd of people holding torches, pushing a girl around the center of said crowd.
Wednesday goes behind a barrel to watch from the shadows.
A pilgrim with a staff walks through the crowd. "Goody Addams!" He shouts, bringing everyone's attention to him, the crowd becoming quiet.
"You have been judged before God and found guilty." Wednesday looks on in curiosity, trying to remember every detail.
"You are a witch, a sorceress, Lucifer's mistress herself. For your sins, you will burn this night, and suffer the flames of eternal hellfire."
"I am innocent." Goody looks up towards Joseph as she is on the ground. "It is you, Joseph Crackstone, that should be tried."
Wednesday looks at Joseph Crackstone, now having an actual face to name.
"We were here before you, living in harmony with nature and the native folk. But you have stolen the land, slaughtered the innocent! you have robbed us of our peaceful spirit!"
Goody, hiding a blade, quietly draws it to her side where no one can see it. "You are the true monster, all of you!"
Goody quickly stands, slashing the knife to Joseph's face, blood trickling down his face. The crowd grabs Goody by her arms in shock.
"The Devil ne'er sent such a demon." Joseph exclaims, slapping Goody with the back of his hand, the crowd cheering.
"And I will send you back!" The crowd starts pushing Goody towards the meeting house, Goody struggles to escape their grasp
"No!" Goody exclaims before she is thrown into the meeting house.
Wednesday manages to sneak in before the doors are locked shut.
"Elsie!" Goody calls out while running towards a girl that looks exactly like you, rattling the chains that bind you to floor desperately.
"Goody please, listen. This is my time, but it doesn't have to be our last time seeing one and other." Elsie says desperately to Goody, grabbing her attention.
"I need a string, any string please!" Goody, without hesitation, rips at a heam in her clothes and rips it into a long string.
"Take my hand, wrap the string around our hands." Goody looks Elsie in the eyes with fear as they're interrupted.
"Set it ablaze!" is heard from outside as the sound of fire is heard and the sight on the walls. Goody looking towards where the words were coming from before being brought back by Elsie
"Hurry please! I can't imagine another life without you!" Elsie cries with desperation. Goody, without hesitation, interlocks her open hand around Elsie's, wrapping the black string around the two.
Elsie closes her eyes and is silent for a moment to focus while Goody looks at her face, not knowing what's happening.
"Haec chorda semper nos alliget." Elsie starts chanting the incantations with fear in her voice, the string is starting to illuminate a red light, brighter and brighter.
"Quantumvis implicitum vel edoctum, rursus se invicem inveniemus." Elsie finishes the incantation with a smile and tears falling down her face.
The string is the brightest it's been before it embeds itself into their skin, soon disappearing. "We will meet again I promise Goody." Elsie says with a painful, yet hopeful smile.
"It may be in a different form, or a different time, but we will meet again."
"I mustn't leave you here still" Goody desperately pulls on the chains on Elsie's wrist, she can't imagine life without her either.
"You must, avenge us Goody. You're the only one!" Elsie cries. "Go!" Goody grabs her face and their lips touch for their final kiss, tears streaming down their faces.
"I love you." Goody says with glossy eyes, pain lacing her voice, before going to the fireplace to hide under a trapdoor.
"I love you too." Elsie says to herself her final words, with the same hopeful smile, waiting for the day they'll again meet.
Wednesday feels like she's moving backwards while staying in place until everything goes black.
-
Wednesday abruptly sits up, waking up to the sound of rain.
She quickly acknowledges you over her with your wand out, casting a barrier above her acting as an umbrella.
"Y/n, I saw her! The girl from my visions." Wednesday says while looking into your eyes.
There's something new in Wednesday's eyes that weren't there before, some sort of softness.
"Her name is Goody Addams, and I believe she's my ancestor from 400 years ago." You look at her with the same softness.
"Was there anything else in the vision?" You ask before you're interrupted by a sound from outside the ruins of the meeting house.
Wednesday stands up, approaching the wall, with you behind her still providing safety from the rain.
"Must've been the man from earlier."
The eye of the monster peers through the hole. Pupil unnaturally dilated and filled with bloodlust.
You grab Wednesday by the arm, pulling her back as the monster runs away. "Come on Wednesday we have to go!" You say while grabbing her bag after Thing enters it, handing Wednesday her bag with your trembling hand.
You're both running in the rain, mud splashing with every step, covering each other's clothes. Wednesday slows down after seeing unnatural foot prints.
You follow her as she follows the prints as they turn into human ones.
"The monster's human."
Wednesday says before turning around to you as you go to grab your phone to take pictures as evidence, accidentally dropping it on the ground causing the lens to be covered in mud.
"Shit." You exclaim to yourself, trying to clean it as fast as you can. You both hear footsteps approaching.
"What the hell are you doing?" The voice of Xavier cuts through the air.
You and Xavier are friends, but things have been different since Wednesday transferred.
He looks at her the same way Tyler does and you don't like that. "I was following the monster."
"You saw it? Xavier says with a hint of fear in his voice. "Its here? Do you have a death wish or something?"
You find your way into the conversation. "And what exactly are you doing here?"
You hate accusing your friend of being a bloodthirsty monster, but him being here is just too suspicious.
"I overheard you say you're going to the old meeting house, I guess its lucky I showed up when I did."
"I did learn one thing, the monster is human. We saw the monster footprints turn into human ones." Wednesday says after you finish getting the mud off the lens of your phone as you go to take a picture of the footprints.
"Shit." You say interrupting their conversation and they both look towards you, holding your phone sideways. "The footprints are gone."
Xavier scoffs before Wednesday looks back at him. "I know what I saw." Wednesday looks disapprovingly at Xavier, realizing she doesn't need to prove him anything, so she turns around and keeps walking.
You follow her as you both leave Xavier where he is as he stands there awkwardly.
"Did you learn anything else from the vision?" You ask again, after you were interrupted last time.
Wednesday glances at you for a second, analyzing your face. "I learned Joseph Crackstone put all of the outcasts into the meeting house and burned them alive."
You look at her with slight shock, but also expected a crazy answer like that. "I can't believe this town is putting up a statue of him knowing his history." You say trying to continue the conversation, Wednesday doesn't respond.
"Was there anything else Wends?" You ask, expecting a negative reaction to referring to her with a nickname, surprised when you don't receive a disapprovingly look.
Wednesday is silent for a few seconds before glancing at you again. "No, that's all." Wednesday starts to walk a little faster.
You haven't known Wednesday long, but you are starting to learn her tells and you can tell she's lying.
You don't pry because another thing you know about her is she's stubborn, and if she doesn't want you knowing something she won't tell you.
The rain starts to slow down as you both continue walking towards Jericho, your clothes muddy and dirty from the rain.
The ceremony for Crackstone's Statue is soon, which you are not excited about after hearing his true history.
You take a look at Wednesday's face and it has a devious smile, the kind she has when she has a plan that's about to go into motion. Her walking speeds up yet again as you struggle to keep up.
a/n: hii I hope you guys enjoyed this potential preview. I'm not really at a point to say if this will get a story or not I don't know if I have the determination to write a longer fic. if I do make it, it's going to cover the entirety of s1 of Wednesday. but I guess we'll find out soonish when I finally make a decision :p
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backinmyphase · 12 hours ago
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Part 1
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Thinking about how obsessed King of Curses Sukuna is with you, you, who was originally just a gift from a village.
Lord Sukuna, who is oblivious to the reason why he treats you differently, who thinks you are just the most intriguing person he had seen in years. He didn't know it was over for him the moment he saw your standing there, anger obvious behind your loosely mask. You looked at him with these challenging eyes and raised your head, making that snappy comment. Normally he would have killed you right then and there.
But he didn't. In fact he doesn't even know why he had burned down that village for you.
And now you were sitting in his estate, always with that scowl on your face.
Why did he allow you to eat with him? Why did he order you to eat with him? He doesn't know. But he didn't want you to eat without him, which he just can't explain to himself.
He couldn't explain why he made sure Uraume was watching over you. Didn't know why he gave you your own chamber, so many new clothes and why he gave you permission to go inside his library. Something inside him was just telling him that was right.
And that something inside of him was so angry to see you falling into yourself. To see you neglecting your health over weeks.
It was evening.
Like always, there was a big dinner prepared for the king and he had ordered you to eat with him. But you didn't touch your food, no you just sat there, looking at your plate to avoid his gaze. Oh, he didn't like that.
He stopped eating, narrowing his eyes on your cowering figure. "Why are you not eating."
"Not hungry." your voice was hoarse but still snappy like always.
"You need to eat."
He glanced at Uraume, who shook their head. A silent note you didn't have any sickness.
You picked at the food, but still no sign of actual eating. And god, did it drive him crazy. You were driving him crazy. Your never leaving scowl and your constant denying of everything he had laid out. He just didn't get you.
He didn't know why he even bothered. But he still spoke up.
"What is on your mind?"
You looked up at him. There was no scowl, like he thought, no there was just a shimmer of exhaustion and maybe frustration.
"What am I even doing here, my Lord?" your voice didn't have any sharp in it. "I'm no servant for you, no concubine, not even a jester or anything like that. Why am I here?"
Silence flooded the room. Because you had just asked the question Sukuna asked himself every day. Why did he even bring you here?
He was clueless. Or that was what his brain was telling him.
He inspected you, your almost pleading eyes and he didn't like how you looked at him. He didn't like the almost hopeless look in your eyes.
"Did you want to stay with these people, is it that?" he took a sip of wine.
"No, we both know it's not that." you muttered, taking a deep breath. "Why do I not work for you? Why are you so -"
He raised an eyebrow at you as you struggled to find the right word. Then you finally shook your head.
"Why are you so nice to me?"
He couldn't help but chuckle, a grin following. "You mean, why has the King of Curses not killed me yet?"
You scoffed. "Yes."
"Well you see," he stopped for a moment, before speaking again. "I find you fascinating. And I like to know what I find fascinating."
You rolled your eyes, another thing he only liked when you did it. "So I'm here to be watched like an animal because the King finds me exotic, how kind."
He started to grow impatient, he didn't know why. "You think I would let a meekly animal into my library and give them their own chambers? You think lowly of me."
You started to blink at him, confusion visible on your face. It was his turn to scoff now.
"You're fascinating because I don't get you. And I want to know you. That's why I brought you here." At least that's what he thought.
You turned completely silent, your eyes now looking down onto your plate again.
"That's why you don't 'work' for me, I don't want you to. I don't need you to." he took another sip. "You just shouldn't get your hands dirty."
He looked at you, waiting for a response. Watching how you avoided his gaze, how you gulped. For a second your eyes flicked up to look at him, but went down immediately as your eyes meet his.
"Stop." you were muttering again.
"What?"
"Staring at me like that."
"Why?" He grinned, lowering his voice. "You know I like to stare."
He saw a faint tint of blush on the part of your face he could see. You were silent for a while until you cleared your throat. "I can't eat with you staring at me like that."
. . .
"Alright, I can leave you alone to eat." he stood up. "But you have to now. Eat."
A small chuckle escaped you. "Is that an order?"
"No, it's a request." With that he turned around, leaving to go to his chambers.
You waited til he left the room to breathe. Your body finally relaxing. You looked at Uraume.
"He sounds like he is in... Does he know how he sounds?"
Uraume shook their head. "No, he has no clue. But he wants you to eat, so please do."
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@thequeenofcurses
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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 days ago
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Proud to be a blockhead
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/21/blockheads-r-us/#vocational-awe
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This is my last Pluralistic post of the year, and rather than round up my most successful posts of the year, I figured I'd write a little about why it's impossible for me to do that, and why that is by design, and what that says about the arts, monopolies, and creative labor markets.
I started Pluralistic nearly five years ago, and from the outset, I was adamant that I wouldn't measure my success through quantitative measures. The canonical version of Pluralistic – the one that lives at pluralistic.net – has no metrics, no analytics, no logs, and no tracking. I don't know who visits the site. I don't know how many people visit the site. I don't know which posts are most popular, and which ones are the least popular. I can't know any of that.
The other versions of Pluralistic are less ascetic, but only because there's no way for me to turn off some metrics on those channels. The Mailman service that delivers the (tracker-free) email version of Pluralistic necessarily has a system for telling me how many subscribers I have, but I have never looked at that number, and have no intention of doing so. I have turned off notifications when someone signs up for the list, or resigns from it.
The commercial, surveillance-heavy channels for Pluralistic – Tumblr, Twitter – have a lot of metrics, but again, I don't consult them. Medium and Mastodon have some metrics, and again, I just pretend they don't exist.
What do I pay attention to? The qualitative impacts of my writing. Comments. Replies. Emails. Other bloggers who discuss it, or discussions on Metafilter, Slashdot, Reddit and Hacker News. That stuff matters to me a lot because I write for two reasons, which are, in order: to work out my own thinking, and; to influence other peoples' thinking.
Writing is a cognitive prosthesis for me. Working things out on the page helps me work things out in my life. And, of course, working things out on the page helps me work more things out on the page. Writing begets writing:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/
Honestly, that is sufficient. Not in the sense that writing, without being read, would make me happy or fulfilled. Being read and being part of a community and a conversation matters a lot to me. But the very act of writing is so important to me that even if no one read me, I would still write.
This is a thing that writers aren't supposed to admit. As I wrote on this blog's fourth anniversary, the most laughably false statement about writing ever uttered is Samuel Johnson's notorious "No man but a blockhead ever wrote but for money":
https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/20/fore/#synthesis
Making art is not an "economically rational" activity. Neither is attempting to persuade other people to your point of view. These activities are not merely intrinsically satisfying, they are also necessary, at least for many of us. The long, stupid fight about copyright that started in the Napster era has rarely acknowledged this, nor has it grappled with the implications of it. On the one hand, you have copyright maximalists who say totally absurd things like, "If you don't pay for art, no one will make art, and art will disappear." This is one of those radioactively false statements whose falsity is so glaring that it can be seen from orbit.
But on the other hand, you know who knows this fact very well? The corporations that pay creative workers. Movie studios, record labels, publishers, games studios: they all know that they are in possession of a workforce that has to make art, and will continue to do so, paycheck or not, until someone pokes their eyes out or breaks their fingers. People make art because it matters to them, and this trait makes workers terribly exploitable. As Fobazi Ettarh writes in her seminal paper on "vocational awe," workers who care about their jobs are at a huge disadvantage in labor markets. Teachers, librarians, nurses, and yes, artists, are all motivated by a sense of mission that often trumps their own self-interest and well-being and their bosses know it:
https://www.inthelibrarywiththeleadpipe.org/2018/vocational-awe/
One of the most important ideas in David Graeber's magisterial book Bullshit Jobs is that the ground state of labor is to do a job that you are proud of and that matters to you, but late-stage capitalist alienation has gotten so grotesque that some people will actually sneer at the idea that, say, teachers should be well compensated: "Why should you get a living wage – isn't the satisfaction of helping children payment enough?"
https://memex.craphound.com/2018/06/20/david-graebers-bullshit-jobs-why-does-the-economy-sustain-jobs-that-no-one-values/
These are the most salient facts of the copyright fight: creativity is a non-economic activity, and this makes creative workers extremely vulnerable to exploitation. People make art because they have to. As Marx was finishing Kapital, he was often stuck working from home, having pawned his trousers so he could keep writing. The fact that artists don't respond rationally to economic incentives doesn't mean they should starve to death. Art – like nursing, teaching and librarianship – is necessary for human thriving.
No, the implication of the economic irrationality of vocational awe is this: the only tool that can secure economic justice for workers who truly can't help but do their jobs is solidarity. Creative workers need to be in solidarity with one another, and with our audiences – and, often, with the other workers at the corporations who bring our work to market. We are all class allies locked in struggle with the owners of both the entertainment companies and the technology companies that sit between us and our audiences (this is the thesis of Rebecca Giblin's and my 2022 book Chokepoint Capitalism):
https://chokepointcapitalism.com/
The idea of artistic solidarity is an old and important one. Victor Hugo, creator of the first copyright treaty – the Berne Convention – wrote movingly about how the point of securing rights for creators wasn't to allow their biological children to exploit their work after their death, but rather, to ensure that the creative successors of artists could build on their forebears' accomplishments. Hugo – like any other artist who has a shred of honesty and has thought about the subject for more than ten seconds – knew that he was part of a creative community and tradition, one composed of readers and writers and critics and publishing workers, and that this was a community and a tradition worth fighting for and protecting.
One of the most important and memorable interviews Rebecca and I did for our book was with Liz Pelly, one of the sharpest critics of Spotify (our chapter about how Spotify steals from musicians is the only part of the audiobook available on Spotify itself – a "Spotify Exclusive"!):
https://open.spotify.com/show/7oLW9ANweI01CVbZUyH4Xg
Pelly has just published a major, important new book about Spotify's ripoffs, called Mood Machine:
https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Mood-Machine/Liz-Pelly/9781668083505
A long article in Harper's unpacks one of the core mechanics at the heart of Spotify's systematic theft from creative workers: the use of "ghost artists," whose generic music is cheaper than real music, which is why Spotify crams it into their playlists:
https://harpers.org/archive/2025/01/the-ghosts-in-the-machine-liz-pelly-spotify-musicians/
The subject of Ghost Artists has long been shrouded in mystery and ardent – but highly selective – denials from Spotify itself. In her article – which features leaked internal chats from Spotify – Pelly gets to the heart of the matter. Ghost artists are musicians who are recruited by shadowy companies that offer flat fees for composing and performing inoffensive muzak that can fade into the background. This is wholesaled to Spotify, which crams it into wildly popular playlists of music that people put on while they're doing something else ("Deep Focus," "100% Lounge," "Bossa Nova Dinner," "Cocktail Jazz," "Deep Sleep," "Morning Stretch") and might therefore settle for an inferior product.
Spotify calls this "Perfect Fit Music" and it's the pink slime of music, an extruded, musiclike content that plugs a music-shaped hole in your life, without performing the communicative and aesthetic job that real music exists for.
After many dead-end leads with people involved in the musical pink slime industry, Pelly finally locates a musician who's willing to speak anonymously about his work (he asks for anonymity because he relies on the pittances he receives for making pink slime to survive). This jazz musician knows very little about where the music he's commissioned to produce ends up, which is by design. The musical pink slime industry, like all sleaze industries, is shrouded in the secrecy sought by bosses who know that they're running a racket they should be ashamed of.
The anonymous musician composes a stack of compositions on his couch, then goes into a studio for a series of one-take recordings. There's usually a rep from the PFC pink slime industry there, and the rep's feedback is always "play simpler." As the anonymous musician explains:
That’s definitely the thing: nothing that could be even remotely challenging or offensive, really. The goal, for sure, is to be as milquetoast as possible.
This source calls the arrangement "shameful." Another musician Pelly spoke to said "it felt unethical, like some kind of money-laundering scheme." The PFC companies say that these composers and performers are just making music, the way anyone might, and releasing it under pseudonyms in a way that "has been popular across mediums for decades." But Pelly's interview subjects told her that they don't consider their work to be art:
It feels like someone is giving you a prompt or a question, and you’re just answering it, whether it’s actually your conviction or not. Nobody I know would ever go into the studio and record music this way.
Artists who are recruited to make new pink slime are given reference links to existing pink slime and ordered to replicate it as closely as possible. The tracks produced this way that do the best are then fed to the next group of musicians to replicate, and so on. It's the musical equivalent of feeding slaughterhouse sweepings to the next generation of livestock, a version of the gag from Catch 22 where a patient in a body-cast has a catheter bag and an IV drip, and once a day a nurse comes and swaps them around.
Pelly reminds us that Spotify was supposed to be an answer to the painful question of the Napster era: how do we pay musicians for their labor? Spotify was sold as a way to bypass the "gatekeepers": the big three labels who own 70% of all recorded music, whose financial maltreatment of artists was seen as moral justification for file sharing ("Why buy the CD if the musician won't see any of the money from it?").
But the way that Spotify secured rights to all the popular music in the world was by handing over big equity stakes in its business to the Big Three labels, and giving them wildly preferential terms that made it impossible for independent musicians and labels to earn more than homeopathic fractions of a penny for each stream, even as Spotify became the one essential conduit for reaching an audience:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/03/16/wage-theft/#excessive-buyer-power
It turns out that getting fans to pay for music has no necessary connection to getting musicians paid. Vocational awe means that the fact that someone has induced a musician to make music doesn't mean that the musician is getting a fair share of what you pay for music. The same goes for every kind of art, and every field where vocational awe plays a role, from nursing to librarianship.
Chokepoint Capitalism tries very hard to grapple with this conundrum; the second half of the book is a series of detailed, shovel-ready policy prescriptions for labor, contract, and copyright reforms that will immediately and profoundly shift the share of income generated by creative labor from bosses to workers.
Which brings me back to this little publishing enterprise of mine, and the fact that I do it for free, and not only that, give it away under a Creative Commons Attribution license that allows you to share and republish it, for money, if you choose:
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/
I am lucky enough that I make a good living from my writing, but I'm also honest enough with myself to know just how much luck was involved with that fact, and insecure enough to live in a state of constant near-terror about what happens when my luck runs out. I came up in science fiction, and I vividly remember the writers I admired whose careers popped like soap-bubbles when Reagan deregulated the retail sector, precipitating a collapse in the grocery stores and pharmacies where "midlist" mass-market paperbacks were sold by the millions across the country:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/04/self-publishing/
These writers – the ones who are still alive – are living proof of the fact that you have to break our fingers to get us to stop writing. Some of them haven't had a mainstream publisher in decades, but they're still writing, and self-publishing, or publishing with small presses, and often they're doing the best work of their careers, and almost no one is seeing it, and they're still doing it.
Because we aren't engaged in economically rational activity. We're doing something essential – essential to us, first and foremost, and essential to the audiences and peers our work reaches and changes and challenges.
Pluralistic is, in part, a way for me too face the fear I wake up with every day, that some day, my luck will run out, as it has for nearly all the writers I've ever admired, and to reassure myself that the writing will go on doing what I need it to do for my psyche and my heart even if – when – my career regresses to the mean.
It's a way for me to reaffirm the solidaristic nature of artistic activity, the connection with other writers and other readers (because I am, of course, an avid, constant reader). Commercial fortunes change. Monopolies lay waste to whole sectors and swallow up the livelihoods of people who believe in what they do like a whale straining tons of plankton through its baleen. But solidarity endures. Solidarietatis longa, vita brevis.
Happy New Year folks. See you in 2025.
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tulipq · 1 day ago
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No one ever states the whole concept of the ship of Theseus. This shit is too fucking long winded. I hope you are all ready for this shit. At least I will use text you can copy paste around!
The full problem with the ship of Theseus is meant to be like a koan that gives you an insight into the unstable nature of identity. That's how I read it. I just wanted to state my current conclusion first, because you can't refute me if you don't know where I am going with this.
My answer is that neither is the original ship. The ship ceased to be itself in the original sense every moment and is actually "close enough to be felt the same by humans at the time" instead of being itself. Identity is unstable. A does not equal A because the notion of A is as a flickering flame in the eyes of its beholder.
Anyway, I am going to cheat in order to make things in a certain way. I will make it clear when this is cheating and not just clever storytelling.
We witness:
A boat maker, and he makes a boat. He also travels with the boat and he keeps replacing parts along the way because wooden boats are like this. He has a little barge or something that he stores all of the cast off part of the boat.
Suppose he is the last original crew member to die. He and his complete boat of boat parts get taken to the cemetery where all of the other original crew members.
Then Persephone notices she has the complete set of one of her favorite little adventuring groups that the muses sing about. She gives them all new lives and even magics the boat parts to be young and unworked material because fuck you this is a greek philosophy parable, I have decided to fuck with how time works. You can tell a version where that does not happen in your response.
Then the ship builder makes the ship parts into the original shape of the ship.
This is completed just as the current crew of the ship, the builder's body road to the graveyard in shows up to bury someone who was not part of the crew when it first departed.
Which ship is the original ship which the builder made? Is it the one with the builder, the crew, and the material that first left in the very same condition as when they left, or is it the one which has experienced all of the changes that happened since it first departed?
If the builder says he believes for sure the answer opposite yours, do you care about that? I do not.
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thewertsearch · 2 days ago
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fedorafreak: eureka.
Hang on. Is that...
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...son of a bitch. The king is back!
I can't even be mad that it's not actually Dad Egbert, because this is an entirely different kind of treat - and one that I didn't think we'd ever be getting.
I’d long since given up hope that we’d ever hear from Earth again – Bec’s apocalyptic meteor laser seemed to have bookended that chapter fairly unambiguously. How, then, did Homestuck’s favourite normie survive such a cataclysm?
fedorafreak: yes. it is as hoped for beyond hope. fedorafreak: unusual devices may be used to duplicate fresh, perfectly pressed garments. inexhaustibly, afaik.
FedoraFreak is a fucking Sburb Player.
This is the best day of my life. I've always wondered about how Earth's other sessions are going, and this is the one we get to see?
This is the greatest gift Hussie could give me. This is my Christmas.
fedorafreak: alas, devices appear to hold no such promise for departed family members, misplaced hand-held steam press.
He’s had a pretty rough time, though, which is par for the course when you’re playing this game.
Departed family members are a given, but all hope is not yet lost. If they're Players too, he might still be able to reunite with them in the Dream Bubbles - but sadly, I don't think the Gods will be preserving the soul of his steam press. Guess he'll just have to prototype it!
fedorafreak: now combining expensive leather pipe tobacco sleeve with handsome, gray fedora. fedorafreak: to document result shortly. fedorafreak: resulted in hat w/ outlandish and frivolous appearance. fedorafreak: do not care for; shall discard immediately.
Alchemy, of course, is far too twee for our king. Perhaps, with some experimentation, he can make some business-themed gear which is both serious and viable?
fedorafreak: made unwelcome determination. production requires expense of glittering abstractions called grist. fedorafreak: such jewels remaining in cache, libation in reserve, at premium. fedorafreak: consumed final swallow of carefully rationed urine. soon to seek water elsewhere in exotic new surroundings.
Damn, dude. You can’t even field the grist cost for water? Fedorafreak is clearly having a lot of trouble with Sburb’s earlygame.
John did a lot better, but he had a lot of help from Nanna early on, and Fedorafreak’s lack of familiarity with the game’s mechanics suggests that his sprite is inert.
He also hasn’t mentioned a server player, so he the poor man might be completely alone, with no context for the tragedy which recently tore his life apart. He may have escaped the apocalypse, but things still are looking pretty grim for our serious businessman.
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covid-safer-hotties · 2 days ago
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I want to ask you this in good faith-- at what point do you think we can "stop worrying" about covid? Is there a particular statistical benchmark or qualitative indicator that you believe will show the covid pandemic is over?
I'm curious because you've responded to multiple people pointing out that the death toll & long covid metrics are lower than ever essentially saying that isn't enough to stop caring. So in your view, what is?
The benchmarks professionals have listed throughout the pandemic have yet to be met. If we could hit a single one, that would sure be nice. I'd stop worrying about covid if we could hit about 20,000 infections a week during a seasonal peak with reasonalble vaccine uptake (~70٪ or higher) of a vaccine that provides both mucosal and sterilizing immunity at reasonable levels. We're averaging around 20,000 infections a day in the 3-4 valleys we get a year right now, and that's without widespread wastewater testing from coast to coast and extremely low lab testing, so we know that those cases are an undercount. Not even 18% of Americans got the latest booster this fall, and the current vaccines neither induce mucosal immunity nor provide decent levels of sterilizing immunity (vaccinated people can act as unwitting asymptotic carriers of the virus) and (especially mRNA) vaccine efficacy drops rapidly after an antibody titre peak at around 2 months post vaccination. Current expert estimates for xmas day show us hitting more than 1,000,000 infections a day. A million infections a day would only take the national level into the CDC's new "medium" category. It's higher than both the Alpha and Beta waves. Of they were pandemic, so is this one. To act otherwise is to bury one's head in the sand and go "LA LA LA LA LA LA I CAN'T HEAR YOU" and that is our current public health response. Even if covid's death rate remains ~1%, that's 1% of a minimum ~20,000 a day even when we're not in a peak. One in five of each of those cases will develop lingering viral disease that mirrors HIV in its viral persistence and immune damage. If any of these things I mentioned can be reasonalbly addressed and substantially lessened, and these waves stop happening globally every 2 to 4 months, we'll stop being in a pandemic. If the government stops stifling data collection and acting like public health is a personal choice, I'll relax just a bit, because then I could actually do a risk assessment and trust that my community has mitigations in place like air filtration, masked staff, daily tests for staff, etc.
The death toll isn't the only metric to look at, and those deaths shouldn't be dismissed just because we're no longer stuffing corpses into reefer trailers. Each infection is a threat to someone's life and health in the long term, and we're refusing to look at that reality and adapt. Ignorance and bluster are not a public health response, and y'all should be pissed that's what the government is doing, not going out for mimosas even though "I've had a 'really bad cold for 5 days'."
The effects are cumulative and ever growing. To act like those effects just dissappear or don't matter is eugenics.
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bloodyraremedium · 5 months ago
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liveblogging me going insane over the magnus archives
AGH
AGHHHHHHH
WHAT THE FUCK
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