#fic writing bingo

[cinderella-ish]

Fic Event & Bingo Masterposts

Bingos

AFG Angst

AFG Bad Bitches

AFG Dark

AFG Fluff

AFG LGBTQ+

AFG Mixed

Bad Things Happen

Events

Fruits Basket Mondays 2024

Kyoru Week 2023

Whumptober 2023

[itsfirecat]

(text description in ALT and below the cut)

Based on some rumblings I heard, I ended up quickly throwing together a fun little WIP bingo sheet! I'll admit I largely wrote the prompts for writing, but I think a good number of them should also apply to art!

Ultimately, the goal is to have fun, and finish whatever WIPs you can (without burning yourself out or having a bad time). If you needed a sign to pick up that project you've been putting off, the time is now!

3x4 Bingo square titled "Finish your fucking fics february"

the top three across left to right read "Update your oldest WIP", "Finish a WIP that's been buried deep in your drafts", and "Finish a WIP that you haven't posted yet"

the second row reads "Finish a recent WIP", "Finish a WIP you're scared of" and "Finish a WIP that's been haunting you"

the third row reads "Update a partially posted WIP", "Finish any WIP/Free Space", and "Finish the next WIP in a series you've been avoiding"

the last row reads "Update your newest WIP", "Finish a WIP that's been ignored for at least 6 months", and "Finish the next chapter for a fic you've been meaning to for months"

[nimuetheseawitch]

lol I didn't even realize this bingo post going around was an ask meme until I saw your tag.

You say I love you but I cannot stay and/or The problem with starting halfway through

I'll do both. Why not?

You say I love you but I cannot stay

I love Sometimes You Hear the Bullet. And I was haunted by the idea that Hawkeye would write an introduction to Tommy's book and make sure it got published. And because I'm me, I wanted to write the letters Hawkeye would write. And then I realized BJ would be a complete weirdo about Hawkeye having other friends. Even early on in my hunnihawk days, I was into BJ being really, really weird about it (not that this is hunnihawk - it's just BJ being obsessed with Hawkeye and not understanding boundaries). And BJ *would* be so fucked up about learning how traumatized Hawkeye is/should be, that he would freak out and Hawkeye would have to comfort him. Thinking about this now I almost want to write it again but different.

The problem with starting halfway through

I don't entirely remember where this all started, but I had a lot of feelings. I had already written Hawkeye goes to California, and I was obsessing over every little line where BJ flirts with Hawkeye, and I wanted BJ to think it was a good idea to hook up as the war was ending. This line in particular sunk it's teeth into my brain:

"I know this is an ending and not the start of something, and I wish maybe we could've started something sooner, but I want to know. I want to know what I'm missing"

Specifically because this is a terrible fucking idea and I've been there. But I was also just listening to Tegan and Sara's album Hey, I'm Just Like You, and the song Keep Them Close 'Cause They Will Fuck You Too invaded my brain and combined with my MASH brainrot and the hunnihawk and spewed out this idea of how they could keep fucking up at being together. I needed them to have a really poorly thought out last hookup that ate at BJ until he pursued something more, while Hawkeye convinced himself BJ was happy. And then I needed everyone to be gay and fell in love with gay Peg who gives BJ permission to love Hawkeye but also breaks the fuck out of BJ's heart. And I'm gonna take any chance I get to write love letters and fell hard for the idea of Hawkeye pretending to fish but just reading letters from everyone from the 4077.

Oh, and I was having thoughts and feelings about Hawkeye's inconsistency around messing around with married people.

I also wanted to fix BJ Goes to Maine (which I have a soft spot for, but BJ is too into his family and California to go to Maine, and he'd have to be 100% sure of Hawkeye, which he does not have the confidence for).

I promise I will get back to this series because honestly, I have outlines for several more fics. Even though my brain wants to give them a happy ending, none of the stories I've started give them that (although I have a self-indulgent little Peg/Miriam (my OFC) happily ever after planned because sapphic joy). Just lots and lots of misunderstandings and complication.

In the end, it's a story of two people who have wildly different interpretations of what point of the relationship they're in, and they never really got a start, so how can they have a beginning? And did they start at the end? Keep Them Close 'Cause They Will Fuck You Too is a post-breakup song that I decided to apply to a ship I thought I wanted to give a happy ending, so we'll see what happens.

Caveat to everything I've said here: my memory is shitty, and I probably talked about everything over on discord, but I'd have to track down late night conversations and rants from over a year ago to make sure I got everything.

I enjoyed thinking about this and wow do I wish my wrist wasn't as shitty because I feel like writing things down on paper but it is so fucking annoying to hold a pen with my wrist brace. Maybe I'll type some things. Also, this introspection reminded me how much I like to slowly rotate BJ as I consider what a hot mess he is and how much he can manage to hurt the people around him while he flails figuring himself out.

Thanks @marley--manson, I love answering your questions.

[rooksunday]

when the coruscant guard toured their new barracks, they immediately clocked a problem.

“where are the rest of the bunks?” stone asked, looking between his datapad of assignments, and the last of the dozen bunkrooms.

even sleeping two to a pod, with four pods to a room— even hotbunking, like they were going to have to if the ‘suggested’ shift schedule was correct— there simply weren’t enough beds.

thorn grimaced. “we could give up the rec room and mess.”

“and eat where? and we need at least one room for sitting in and staring into the middle distance,” stone countered. they’d been doing a lot of the latter that day already.

with a conceding shrug, thorn turned to fox, who had been increasingly stiff and silent as the inspection had continued. stone couldn’t blame him. the building that the senate had ‘generously provided’ appeared to be held together by force of habit and spite; stone could relate, but he didn’t want to spend a war there.

“what are you thinking, sir?” stone prompted fox. the vod was always thinking something. that was his problem.

fox shook his head slightly, as if stepping out of deep water. he hummed.

“i saw something on the holonet… leave it with me,” he said.

after fox had left—marching with determination toward the broom cupboard he’d claimed as a an office—stone turned to face thorn, who was already looking at him with a particular tilt to his visor.

“on the holonet?” thorn repeated. “have you got any idea what he’s talking about? all he looks at on there is conspiracy theories and pictures of tookas.”

stone slowly shook his head. “i’m sure it’ll be fine. i’m sure it’ll be… fine.”

the guard moved in. they made it work. what other option did they have?

six weeks after landing on coruscant, fox burst into the commanders’ shared bunk with something fluorescent streaked across his armour and the stench of burnt feathers in his wake. he’d lost his helmet somewhere. stone had been cleaning his armour and threw the cloth at fox in instinctive reaction, but fox just batted it away.

“what the kark, sir?” stone spat out, heart thick in his throat.

“whuzzat?” thorn mumbled as he rose to a sit. “fox, you stink.”

“of victory,” fox countered. he stalked across the room and thrust and vial of smoking … something… to stone. “here, drink this.”

stone’s eyebrows rose. “no? sir?”

“is it tasty?” thorn asked, sleepily.

fox produced another vial from his utility belt and held that one out to thorn. he popped the cap with his thumb. smoke boiled out, glittering like dust motes. this vial was presented to thorn.

“i put honey in yours,” fox said.

of course he did.

but if fox was handing mysterious vials to thorn, he probably wasn’t planning to kill them all. probably. besides, it had been a long assignment and the war wasn’t going anywhere. the chancellor wasn’t going anywhere. stone took his vial, and saw thorn take his.

“well. cheers, i suppose,” he said, catching eyes with thorn, who rose his vial in turn.

between them, fox danced from foot to foot like he’d drank too much water before a long shift. his attention flickered between stone and thorn as they drank. his eyes were bright and he kept making and unmaking fists at his sides. he looked like a tubie waiting for their first live fire drill.

stone drank.

“huh. that doesn’t—“

then things got really kriffed up.

cody rubbed at his comm as if that would help comprehension.

“say again? some interference on my end,” he said.

the tiny blue rex rubbed the bridge of his nose. “tookas, vod. hundreds of tookas. they’re all over the senate building. they’ve herded the chancellor into his office and are blocking the hallway. no one can move them. the optics would be terrible.”

“where did they come from? can’t the coruscant guard take care of it?” cody didn’t want to assign fox to animal crowd control, but wasn’t protecting the senate his job? an invasion probably counted.

“that’s the problem. one of the tookas… it knows dadita.”

“excuse me, captain. did you say there’s a tooka that knows dadita?” general kenobi asked, leaning in to see rex. he’d been working on the other side of the office on the negotiator; sound didn’t have far to travel.

“that’s right, sir.”

“fascinating. what did it have to say for itself?”

rex shifted his weight. he looked off-camera. “it said, ‘tell cody i’m the kar— i’m still the smart one’. sir.”

silence weighed heavily in the room. cody scratched his nose and turned the message over for a second time. a third. an eleventh.

“therefore you believe that this tooka—“

“is commander fox, sir, yes,” cody said, so rex didn’t have to.

“fascinating,” kenobi said again.

“yes, sir,” rex said, his tone implying that fascination wasn’t really the problem. “and also— excuse me, sirs, one moment.” his voice became louder as he looked off-cam again, and his brow furrowed. “did someone give fox’ika a lightsaber? why is it red? what do you mean, you found it in the chancellor’s office?”

cody met his general’s eyes, and suspected his own were as wide.

blast it, fox was the smart one.

[lonelychicago]

the plane was goin' down (how'd you turn it right around?)

buck/eddie | teen and up | 7k words

“The plane is sinking.” Eddie states, matter of factly, he blinks and his gaze clears just a little bit more. “And I'm going down with it.” The water is now almost hitting Eddie’s chest. Everyone has evacuated already, he's pretty sure. And Buck feels like a tender bruise, achy and broken. “If you go down, then I'll go down with you. I don't fucking care, Eddie!” Buck feels the sting of tears in his eyes, Eddie's hand moves slowly, his thumb brushing them away delicately and in their wake, leaving a trail of blood instead. Buck can't bring himself to care. or:

Eddie is coming back from his last tour on Afghanistan, excited that soon he'll be reunited with his family. Of course, as it's their luck, his plane goes down. @badthingshappenbingo prompt: wiping the other's tears away

read on ao3

[offside-the-lines]

Give my all to you | Nico Hischier

Summary: It's been two years since Aurora was set up on an unwanted surprise date with Nico. He's become her best friend and her son's favorite person. Aurora finds herself wondering if this truly is all she wants from him. Title inspo: Best Part by HER & Daniel Caeser

This fic is dedicated to @wyattjohnston for her birthday bingo. Happy birthday, Demi! You are an absolute gift to this community and to my life. I hope you have the best day. Here's to 30!!! 💖 Pairing: Nico Hischier x F!OC Word count: 5.8k Bingo card tropes: match-making, single parent, FREE (friends to lovers), sworn-off love, coworkers (barely mentioned tho lol oops). Warnings: Kid fic! The kid does get injured, but he is okay! (Please let me know if I missed something) Some Swiss German words used: Schätzli (little treasure), Bärli (little bear). This fic is un-beta-ed coz I wasn't about to make you edit your own b'day fic. LOL Masterlist

I. THE PAST

Aurora has always hated being late, even when it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her fault the production meeting ran late. It wasn’t her fault that there was something wrong with the subway line she needed to take. It wasn’t her fault that her bag strap decided to snap, spilling its contents onto the busy 8th Avenue sidewalk halfway through her approximately twenty-block walk. She had texted Nicole to let her know she was running late; she didn’t have the wherewithal to consider how strange it was that she never got a response. 

By the time she had gotten to the restaurant, she was sweating and looking forward to a cold drink. Which is why she was even more annoyed when she couldn’t find Nicole in the restaurant. It was garnering her strange looks from the maitre d’ who had told her there was no reservation under either of their names. 

Aurora checked the location twice before stepping back onto the street and pressing ‘call’ on her phone. It was a precarious balancing act, with her bag grasped to her chest.

There was no response.

As she pressed ‘call’ again, her eyes caught sight of Nico Hischier. A pit was beginning to form in her stomach as she began to realize what was happening.

No response.

At that moment, Nico looked up and caught her eye. His smile and wave all but confirmed her suspicions.

She quickly typed out a message as she ventured back inside.

To Nicole 💁🏼‍♀️: nicole laud, what the fuck have you done. if this is what i think it is, im going to fucking kill you.

“Hi, Aurora!” Nico smiled; it was endearing, the way it dimpled his cheeks and crinkled his eyes. He stood up to give her a hug and pulled the chair out for her.

“Nico,” she said, “It’s nice to see you! Although I’m a little caught off-guard, I’m not gonna lie.”

He scrunched his brows. “Oh? What do you mean?”

“Nicole didn’t tell you?” She paused, examining his confused expression, and sighed. “She didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“Look, Nico, I don’t know what Nicole told you to get you to come here, but this is not that. I thought I was meeting her for dinner, but it seems this has been some sort of setup. I’m really sorry if that’s not what you were expecting. Especially after waiting for me, which, I hope she at least did you the courtesy of passing along the message that I was running late?”

“She did,” Nico said.

“Well, at least there’s that,” she sighed, “I know you’re a great guy and everything, but I’m really not looking to date. At all. I mean, even if I was, I don’t date coworkers. I’m really sorry. She shouldn’t’ve done this. We can just call this a night if you want.”

Nico let a brief flicker of disappointment cross his face before schooling his expression into a soft smile. “Well, I mean, we’re already here, and you look like you might need a drink and some food. We can just have dinner as friends. Or colleagues if that’s what you prefer. I don’t mind either way. It’s up to you.”

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her of just how long it had been since she’d last eaten.

“Yeah, okay,” she said, “I’m pretty hungry, and I was really looking forward to the gnocchi.”

Despite the way the evening started, Aurora admits she had a good time. Nico was easy to talk to: open, attentive, and responsive. Maybe it was just the bottle of wine they shared, but it was rare for her to get as comfortable with someone so quickly as she did with Nico. How quickly they were both willing to share the deeply personal stories they usually kept to themselves.

Nico talked about what it was like to leave his family and move to a new country as a teenager. He shared stories of his siblings and his childhood in Switzerland. He confided in Aurora about the pressures and joys of being named an NHL captain so young.

Something about Nico made her feel safe enough to share her life story. It was rare for her to talk about her son with someone who was practically a stranger. But she found herself telling Nico about the ex-boyfriend who broke her heart at the age of 20, disappearing when she was in the third trimester of her pregnancy. 

Nico indulged her by asking her question after question about Theo; admittedly, it’s always her favorite topic of conversation. Nico seemed genuine when he mentioned that he looked forward to meeting him, even going as far as offering to take her son skating for the first time. It was a nice thought, but she didn’t think he would follow through on it.

The time passed quickly, and soon, her phone alarm was alerting her that it was time to relieve the babysitter. 

“Ah, shit,” Aurora said, “I need to get going.”

“No problem. Do you need a ride?” Nico asked, smiling warmly.

“No, it’s okay. Should we get the check?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Nico said, shaking his head, “I got this.”

“Come on,” she prodded.

“No, no. I feel bad; you were absolutely ambushed today. It’s the least I could do.”

The earnestness on his face made her pause, eventually relenting. “Okay, fine. Thank you.”

“No problem! I’m serious, though. I would really like to be friends. And I would love to take Theo skating.” He took out his phone and handed it over. “Here, type in your number, and we’ll figure out a time to make it happen.”

“Okay,” she said. She felt warm and bubbly; his smile settled her for some reason.

Later that night, after she had gotten home and checked in on her son, she responded to the two unread messages on her phone.

From [Unknown number]: It’s Nico! Lemme know if you got home okay! When do you wanna do skating? To Nico 😈: home! weekends are usually a good bet for us. especially before the reg season starts. From Nico 😈: How’s next Sunday? Maybe after practice. I can reserve some ice time at the rink.

From Nicole 💁🏼‍♀️: he thinks you’re cute! you should give it a shot. he’s a really good guy. To Nicole 💁🏼‍♀️: i know you were trying to help, but that was kinda fucked. he IS a great guy, and i think we WILL be good friends. but i’m still really pissed that you ambushed me like that. From Nicole 💁🏼‍♀️: i’m sorry. i didn’t think it through. To Nicole 💁🏼‍♀️: it’s okay. just don’t do it again.

II. THE PRESENT

[two years later]

Aurora watches as Nico chases Theo around the rink; with all the time he spends on the ice with Nico, he’s getting so good. As they skate past, Nico slows to send her a smile. She waves back.

She hears someone sit down in the seat next to her, and she doesn’t need to even turn to check who.

“Teddy’s getting good,” Nicole says.

“Yeah, he is.” Her gaze never leaves the boys going round and round the ice.

“Must be all the help he’s getting from our dearest Captain,” she laughs.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know.” She knocks her shoulder into Aurora’s. “First overall. Captain of the NHL team. Not everyone gets dedicated skating lessons from someone like that.”

Aurora doesn’t respond to that, but she does let her eyes drift over the other players on the ice: Curtis with his kids, Erik with his kids, Brendan with his kids… She swallows the lump in her throat. 

“When are you and Jesp gonna have kids?” she asks.

“Shut up,” Nicole laughs, “You’re deflecting.”

“Deflecting from what?”

“Fine, we can talk about something else,” Nicole sighs. “When are you going to start dating again?”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe we have to go over this again. I don’t want to date. At all.”

“Oh, come on,” she whines, “Teddy’s seven already. It’s time. When was the last time you even got laid?”

Aurora doesn’t respond, focusing on the squeals of laughter and the scraping of blades on ice.

“Rory, I just want you to be happy,” Nicole continues gently.

“I am happy. I’ve got a great kid who I love,” she grinds out, “I just want to focus on him. He’s enough.”

“I know, Rory. Of course, he is, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t want more.”

“Well, I don’t,” she pouts. She knows it doesn’t come off nearly as resolute as she intends it to.

“I don’t believe you,” Nicole says; she sounds so sure. “You’re a romantic, Rory. You’re always reading those books and watching the shows and movies.”

When Aurora doesn’t respond, she sighs, adding, “When are you going to stop punishing yourself? And don’t say that you’re not. I know you still beat yourself up about it. You’re a great mom, Aurora. You can still be a great mom while dating.”

They let the silence linger.

“I don’t want to introduce new people into Theo’s life. I don’t want to have to explain to him why these men come and go from our lives,” she responds finally.

“Things don’t have to happen like that, you know?”

“Like what?”

“New guys coming and going.”

“What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t have to be someone new at all,” Nicole says carefully.

Aurora finally tears her eyes away from the rink and finds Nicole’s eyes boring into her own. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Oh, come on, Aurora,” she says, rolling her eyes, “Be so fucking for real right now.”

Aurora just keeps glaring at her.

“Okay, fine, be like that,” Nicole huffs. “Be honest, how much time do you two spend with Nico? Like, every day when he’s not on a road trip, right? Nico’s down as his second emergency contact at school. He was a new guy at one point, but he sure isn’t going anywhere.”

“Nico’s different,” Aurora says, grinding her teeth together as she turns back towards the ice. 

Her eyes immediately find Nico; he’s leaning over the bench so casually, so easily, as he helps Theo with his water bottle. When he looks up, his gaze locks with hers as if he knows exactly where to look. He smiles, and she can see his dimples even from here. She feels herself smiling back. A laugh bubbles in the column of her throat when he turns back to stick his tongue out at her son.

Nicole snorts. “Yeah, he’s different, alright.”

“Yeah,” Aurora sighs, not at all picking up on the subtext. “He is. Not every guy is like him. God, I don’t even know if there are any guys like him.”

Nicole hums, “Uh-huh. So, why won’t you date Nico?”

Aurora’s head whips around so fast she has to blink at her friend for a second.

“Nico’s a really good friend. That’s it. And that’s all it will ever be,” she bites out.

“You know, he agreed to go on that date with—” She cuts herself off when she sees Aurora’s glare. “Okay, I know we don’t talk about it, but just hear me out. He wanted to go on that date with you. He’s into you.”

“Yeah, he was,” Aurora says, shaking her head. “That’s before he knew I had a full kid who I am responsible for 24 hrs a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. No one wants to walk into that situation. Someone like Nico definitely doesn’t want—”

“I’m gonna cut you off right there,” Nicole says. “Nico literally has lunch with you at work most days he’s here. He takes Teddy skating as much as he can. He goes with you two to museums, or zoo, or whatever, almost every week. He helps you make dinner and watches kid shows like Paw Patrol. Like, I just don’t understand why you refuse to see this, but he’s all in, Rory.”

Aurora feels her throat tighten and tries to cool the heat in her cheeks.

“Yeah, as I said. Nico’s a great person. He’s probably the best person I know. But he’s a 25-year-old NHL player. He doesn’t even date ‘cause he wants to focus on his career. He certainly doesn’t want to be tied down to a family already.”

“Oh my god,” Nicole laughs humorlessly, “Like, serious! Do you hear yourself?”

Aurora just keeps glaring back at her.

Nicole shakes her head. “You know, he used to date, right? Or, at least, hook up. Jesper says he hasn’t seen Nico pick up in well over a year. What do you think that’s about? You got an excuse for that, too?”

And for once, she doesn’t know how to respond. She didn’t know that. She has always assumed that he didn’t pick up when she was around, so she can let loose a little without having to worry about Theo too much, knowing that Nico has her back. She has always assumed that he hooked up on the road. And she doesn’t know what to do with this information.

Luckily, she doesn’t need to, as a loud thump makes her jump.

Theo’s banging on the glass in front of her with the biggest grin on his face. Nico leans against the glass a few feet over, beaming at him.

“Hi, mama!” he yells, “Nicki’s teaching me how to use my edges better when I skate backward. See?” 

He grins so wide before he puts his hands in front of him, tongue poking out of the side of his mouth, as he begins to wiggle. Aurora admits she has no idea what she’s looking for, but she smiles and cheers all the same. Her eyes flit over to Nico, and he’s tapping his stick; she recognizes the proud look on his face.

She looks away quickly, only to catch Theo losing an edge and falling to the ice. It makes her breath catch every time. Nico raps his knuckles on the glass twice before skating over to check on him. By the time he gets there, Theo’s already back on his feet, doing little hops.

She watches as Nico bends down to talk with him. They skate another lap before heading towards the exit together. She watches as Theo hops up onto the bench, and Nico kneels down to unlace his skates for him. She doesn’t know what they are chatting about, but Theo’s being especially animated.

Aurora is startled when she hears Jesper behind her; she has forgotten Nicole’s there.

“You ready to go, älskling?” he says, bending down to give her a kiss before sending Aurora a smile. “Hi, Rory.”

“Yep!” Nicole stands up, her hands sliding easily into his. She smiles at Aurora. “See ya later, yeah? Think about what I said?”

“No,” she laughs, sticking her tongue out like her son does, “Bye, you blond assholes.”

She watches Nico and Theo go down the tunnel together. Theo’s holding Nico’s hand despite telling her that holding hers was embarrassing; she tries not to be a little hurt by that. She sighs and makes her way over to the locker room. 

It doesn’t take long for them to emerge, still sweaty. Theo can’t shower at the rink, so Nico usually also skips the shower so she doesn’t have to wait. Theo chats excitedly on the way to the car. Aurora and Theo had moved into Nico’s apartment building, a few floors down, not long after they had met, so they will carpool occasionally. Those days are always Theo’s favorite.

They hit traffic on the way back, and Theo’s questions and musings gradually fade out until he passes out in the back seat. Nico and Aurora sit in companionable silence for the rest of the drive, both happy to let the kid sleep.

It does mean that Theo is cranky when he is awakened from his nap, refusing to walk and then refusing to let go of Nico to let him shower in his own apartment. She sends him an apologetic look, but he just smiles and shrugs as he carries her son back to their apartment, Theo’s cheek resting on Nico’s shoulder as he blinks at his mom lazily.

She makes dinner as the boys shower, singing and dancing along to a playlist they have been adding to for two years. She feels, more than hears, Nico returning to the kitchen, his hand on her hip, a warm presence at her back, as he watches her stir the creamy chicken pasta. He steals bites off the spatula every now and then, laughing at her mock horror.

Theo has lost all the energy he was filled with only a few hours prior, and it makes dinner a battle. She feels guilty about the way Nico bargains with him to eat the vegetable. She should be able to get Theo to eat his dinner without help, and she knows she absolutely could do it, but it’s nice to have the help. 

Besides, Theo wasn’t in the mood to listen to anything she had to say, always looking to Nico for guidance instead. Asking Nico for his bedtime story when the time came for it.

She’s not jealous, anything but. It fills her heart with warmth to see her son so smitten with her best friend. But that doesn’t stop the ache that fills her chest: this could’ve been Theo with his father. He should be getting this with his father. And it’s her fault he isn’t. Every day, Theo grows a little bit more as a person, and while it’s bittersweet, she always wonders if he would be different if he had a dad. If her mistakes are holding him back.

Aurora is startled out of her thoughts when she hears her son’s voice get progressively louder and more upset. She rushed into his room.

“Why not?” Theo whines, his voice wet with tears and his bottom lip trembling.

“Bärli, I—” Nico says, voice wavering and raw. When he turns towards her, he looks white as a sheet, his eyes darting back and forth between Aurora and her son. 

“What happened?” she hisses at him as he stands up to give her space on the bed.

“I—I really don’t know. He asked—Never mind, not important right now,” he whispers, nodding at Theo, who is now bawling. 

She rushes to her son’s side and pulls him into her arms, shushing him. She presses soft kisses to his forehead and just holds him until his sobbing subsides. Eventually, he tires himself out enough, hiccuping occasionally as his eyes drift close and his body grows heavy. Once she’s sure he’s asleep, she slips out of the room.

Nico is leaning against the wall in the hallway, worrying at his lip. His head snaps up as soon as he hears her exit the room. She pulls him out of the hallway and into the kitchen, the furthest place from her son’s bedroom.

“What the fuck happened in there?” she whispers.

Nico presses the palms of his hands to his eyes. “He asked me—Fuck—He asked me if I was his dad. Obviously, I said no. And then he got really upset, and I don’t know why. I have no idea what happened.”

“What do you mean he asked—How did that even come up?”

“I don’t know,” Nico sighs, finally looking at her. His brows are pinched tight, dark strands of hair falling like a curtain around wet eyes. “He was saying something about the kids at school all having dads. And then he asked me if I had a dad. And then he just asked me, ‘Are you my dad?’ And then he kept asking me why not. Like, ‘Why don’t you wanna be my dad?’ What the fuck am I supposed to say to that, Aurora?” His voice breaking at the end.

She feels the claws of panic dig into her chest, sharp pain in her sternum as her head spins. Technically, it’s not the first time he’s asked that. He used to ask about ‘dads’ a lot when he was a toddler; before he really understood what the word ‘dad’ meant. He hadn’t brought it up in years so she had assumed he was over it.

“Fuck,” she breathes.

“Rory, stop. Don’t apologize.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. He runs his fingers through his beard, a nervous tick she has seen enough times to set her on edge. “When are you going to tell him, Aurora? He deserves to know.”

She clenches her jaw. This is not the first time they’ve talked about this.

“We’ve talked about this, Nico,” she says.

“I know we have, but you’re being selfish, Rory. You should’ve seen his face. He thinks no one wants him.”

Aurora’s heart clenches, the panic spreading through her whole body. She feels the sweat prickling at her back, her neck, her forehead; it makes her itchy all over.

Nico is still talking. “He doesn’t understand why everyone else he knows has two parents, and he doesn’t. He thinks I don’t want him. And I can’t—”

“You can’t what, Nico? Because you don’t have to do anything. You’re right. He’s not your son. What I do or do not tell him is none of your business. You can think I’m selfish, you can think I’m a bad mother, you can think whatever you like. It was none of your business then. It’s none of your business now. It won’t be your business ever,” Aurora hisses, her chest heaving as she rants.

The silence hangs between them, thick and stifling.

“I don’t think I can keep doing this,” Nico says, voice so small and so raw.

And if she felt hot before, she doesn’t anymore; the words feel ice cold in her ears. She’s plunged into freezing water, falling through pristine ice into a frozen lake. Her fingers feel numb where the nails dig into her palms. 

“Can’t keep doing what, Nico?” her voice sounds foreign even to her own ears.

He doesn’t answer.

“Can’t keep doing what?” she says, louder, “because I didn’t ask you to do anything, be anything. Don’t worry; you’re under no obligation to be anything to him. So, if you can’t put up with this anymore, then just leave. I won’t be upset. I won’t be anything at all. Because you’re right, you—”

“Schätzli, stop,” he interrupts firmly, “that’s not what I said.” He reaches for her, but she shrugs him off.

“Maybe. Maybe not. But I heard what you meant. I’m fucking up his life, right? Fucked up my own, practically was a teen mom. But that’s not enough. I’m not enough for him.” She doesn’t even register the tears streaming down her face.

“Schätzli—Aurora, please. You know that’s not what I meant,” Nico says, and he might be crying too. His hand keeps coming up, reaching for her, before going back to hanging limply by his side.

“You don’t get to tell me how to parent my son, Nico. You don’t get to tell me that I’m fucking it up.” The words spill out of her mouth, and she has no control over it anymore. Through the tears, she can’t even see his face anymore, can’t see the heartbreak in those brown eyes she loves so much. “You don’t get to say this shit, Nico. Because you’re not his dad. You’re not his anything.”

She hears what may be a sob, but she can’t tell if it’s coming from her own mouth.

“Schätzli,” he whispers, “You don’t mean that.”

“It’s the truth, isn’t it?” she says, wiping her eyes. 

“Aurora, please, come on. You know that’s not true. You can’t say that after the past—” He takes a breath. “I know this is hard for you. But I’m trying to be here for you. To be what you need.”

“What are you trying to say,” she whispers.

“You have to know I would be anything you asked me to be. You can’t possibly not know that by now.” 

“I’ve never asked you to be anything. To me. Or to him. And if you can’t understand that we don’t need anything from you, then you should just leave,” she says through clenched teeth.

“Schätzli,” he pleads.

“Please just—just go.”

“Aurora, I want to be there for you. Both of you. I love Theo. I love—”

“Don’t,” she warns.

Nico sighs. “It’s always been fine that you don’t want me like that. I don’t care about that. It’s fine. But this… This makes me feel kinda fucking used, Aurora. This makes me feel like you think I’m nothing to you. No one. And that’s—Fuck—You need to decide what you want.”

“I’m asking you to leave,” she says through gritted teeth.

“Okay. Fine, I hear you. God, I’m so—” He stops himself, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling for a moment before continuing, “Fuck. Yeah. Okay. I’ll go. I’m leaving.”

Aurora doesn’t respond; she just keeps looking at the floor until he finally sighs and walks out of her apartment. When the door clicks shut, she slides down the wall and sobs into her hands.

III. THE FUTURE

The next few days pass excruciatingly slowly. It’s the longest Nico and Aurora have gone without talking in the two years they’ve known each other. He opens the text thread with Aurora countless times: typing and deleting, typing and deleting, before giving up. Every time he steps into the apartment building’s elevator, he stares at the button for her floor, but he never presses it.

Nico finds himself checking his phone so often that the boys have begun to notice and chirp him for it. He has never had a problem with focus before, always pouring himself into hockey when things go awry. It’s usually the one thing that keeps him centered, but for the past few days, it always feels as if his skates are too tight, the edges too dull, or his stick too short. 

It all grinds to a halt when he sees the missed calls, voicemails, and texts from Aurora after an unsuccessful pre-game nap.

It’s Saturday, and Aurora’s exhausted. She can’t remember the last time a week has gone so poorly. For the past few days, it’s felt like everything in her life has been moved one foot to the left: out of place and disorienting. She has been lying awake at night thinking about Nico, playing their conversation over and over again in her head, pouring over the past two years. Every morning, she wakes up feeling more tired than the day before.

Theo’s not been much better. He has been grumpy and whiny. It seems like nothing she does can cheer him up. He asks her at least ten times a day about Nico: where he has been, what he is up to, if we can call him, and when we will see him next. It has been tearing her up inside that she doesn’t have an answer for Theo.

She has only known Nico for two years, and, between away games and the summers, it’s not like they are together every day. She shouldn’t feel his absence so acutely, but she does. She finds herself looking at the empty chair at her dining table and his empty spot on the couch; she feels the ghost of Nico so acutely. It hurts like a phantom limb, a gaping hole in her life, and she doesn’t know what to do about it.

Aurora thinks she’s holding it together until she isn’t.

When it happens, she doesn’t think anything of it. It’s hockey. She’s seen Theo fall during hockey countless times. It looks like any other fall until Theo starts crying, still lying on the ice, clutching his hand. And it’s as if the entire universe focuses in on that one point.

She doesn’t remember getting up from her seat and running down to the bench. She doesn’t remember the conversation with the U8 coach. She doesn’t remember the walk to the car, clutching him so tightly to her chest, despite the fact that he is far too heavy for her to carry now. 

She’s trying to calm herself down enough to drive to the hospital, head on the steering wheel, gasping for air, when she hears her son speak up.

“Mama,” Theo says, voice wet and wavering.

“Yes, baby?” she manages to respond.

“Mama, it’s okay. I’m going to be okay. Nico always tells me, when I’m sad or hurt, to take deep breaths. I think you might need to take some deep breaths, Mama,” he says between quiet sobs.

It makes her chest feel cracked open and raw; it takes everything in her body to tamp down the sob that threatens to spill out.

“When did you get so grown up?” she says, her voice sounding thin and reedy.

“Mama, I’m 7. Nico says I’m a big boy now.”

Aurora swallows around the tightness in her throat and tries to take three deep breaths before starting the drive to the hospital. 

The panic only subsides long enough to get them to the hospital. By the time they receive the X-ray results, she can hardly process what they are saying. The words “broken arm” and “no surgery” ring loudly in her ears. 

Somewhere in her consciousness, she knows she calls Nico. She knows it’s a game day, knows his routine. But some part of her hoped hearing his voice would make things alright, even just a little bit. She calls a few times, pushing down the disappointment when he doesn't answer. It’s a game day. She knows the routine.

She is sitting in the waiting room, staring at her hands clutched tightly in her lap, when she hears Nico’s voice call her name. 

She blinks and feels a pair of warm hands envelop hers.

“Hey,” Nico says, kneeling in front of her. “Hey, Schätzli, it’s okay. You’re okay. I got you.”

She deflates like a balloon, tilting forward to tuck her face in his neck as sobs wrack her body. His solid arms envelop her, hands rubbing her back. He keeps murmuring in her ear, a combination of English and Swiss German. She has no idea how long they stay like that, but eventually, she feels the terror and panic begin to subside.

“Nico,” she says softly, “what are you doing here?”

“You called,” he says as if it was the simplest thing in the world. He squeezes her hands.

“Oh god, Nico. Don’t you have a game? What are you doing here? You shouldn’t—”

“Rory, it’s okay. I called out. I told Coach that an emergency came up. I wanted to make sure I was here for you if you needed it.”

“You’re skipping the game? For us?” She swallows down a sob. "For me?”

“Yes, Schätzli. Of course, I did.” He reaches a hand up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Is Theo okay?”

“Yeah,” she hiccups, “he’ll be okay. He broke his arm. And they’re just setting it and putting in a cast to make sure it heals right.”

“I’m so sorry, Schätzli.” 

His hand cradles her face gently, wiping at the tears as they fall. There is a long stretch of silence as she leans into his hand.

“How did you get in here? This is the family waiting room,” she asks.

Nico blushes and turns away, mumbling something.

“Sorry, what?”

“I told them I was his dad,” Nico mumbles, rambling, “I didn’t mean to—It’s just, they weren’t letting me in. They said it was family only. So I had to tell them that. I’m sorry; I totally overstepped. I didn’t mean to. I get it if you’re mad—”

Aurora reaches out a finger and presses it to his lips. He stops abruptly, eyes wide.

“It’s okay, Nico. I’m not upset,” she says. She takes a deep breath, and with sudden clarity, she asks, “Is that something you might want to be one day?”

“What?” he squeaks.

“Theo’s dad.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, God, I hope I’m not reading this wrong. But—Well, earlier this week, you said I needed to decide what I wanted. And I just kept thinking about that conversation and how unfair I was to you—to us—by totally underplaying the past two years. ‘Cause they’ve been two of the best years.

“Theo loves you. I love you. You are the second most important person in my life, and I’m sorry it took this mess of a week to realize that,” she sighs. “I don’t know what I’ve been so afraid of. Or what I was waiting for. But it’s so clear to me now that you have been there the whole time. You never asked or expected anything of me. And maybe I was taking advantage of that while hiding behind my past.

“I know I can raise Theo alone; I know I can do it. But I don’t want to do it alone anymore. I don’t want to do it alone if I could have you by my side instead. And, oh God,” she says, her eyes darting frantically across his face, “I really hope I’m not misreading things. Nicole keeps saying that you—I feel like I’m being—”

In an instant, his lips are on hers, warm and soft and insistent. She closes her eyes and lets herself melt into his embrace. The kiss is chaste, but it feels like everything finally snaps back into place. 

“God, Aurora. Schätzli. I would be whoever you want me to be. Whatever you’re ready for. I’ll be here. I’ve known that since the first time we met, Liebling.”

“God, Nico,” she says breathily, “I want everything.”

“Okay,” he smiles, “Everything it is. We can take it as slow as you’d like.”

“Haven’t we wasted enough time?”

He laughs, dimples appearing on his cheeks. “Fuck, I love you, Aurora.”

“I love you too, Nico,” she smiles.

They share a few chaste kisses. And they wait, Aurora wrapped in his steadying embrace, until the doctor finally comes to tell them that Theo is in a recovery room and is doing great.

When they walk into the room together, Theo immediately spots Nico and his eyes light up.

“Nico! You’re here!” he yells.

“Yeah, of course I am,” Nico says warmly, walking across the room to pull Theo into a tight hug.

“Where have you been? I’ve missed you.”

“Yeah, Bärli. I’m sorry.” He runs his fingers through Theo’s messy hair and smiles. “I’m here now. And I promise, I’m not going anywhere.”

He looks up, eyes meeting Aurora’s, and he smiles. And she never doubts for a second that he means it.

[drabbles-mc]

You Have Friends?

Richie Jerimovich x F!Reader Richie Jerimovich & Carmy Berzatto & Neil Fak

For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo Square: friends with benefits

Warnings: 18+, language, canon-typical chaos

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: I love them. I love them all so much. I can and would kill a man for Neil Fak.

The Bear Taglist: @garbinge @withmyteeth @justreblogginfics @narcolini (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

You had your phone out, ready to call or text him to come and meet you outside. You weren’t expecting the door to be unlocked, but it pulled open with no resistance. Your eyebrows lifted, and for a moment you still contemplated just calling him anyway. But then you heard the crashing sounds, the subsequent yelling after the fact, and you knew that even if you called him repeatedly he wasn’t going to pick up the phone. Especially not when he was one of the people doing the yelling.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped inside and let the door fall shut behind you. The metallic clanging of the door hitting the frame was a sound you were certain no one else heard other than you. You took careful steps through the restaurant, or what used to be a restaurant, what was going to be a restaurant again in a couple months, apparently. There was debris everywhere, and the deeper you walked, the more the yelling made sense. Although, knowing Richie, yelling would happen even when it didn’t make sense. Italian aesthetic for the least Italian man you know.

Passing by a tarp, the one spray painted by someone who was clearly angry when they got the can of paint in their hand, you finally landed yourself where everyone was gathered. Carmy and Richie were chest-to-chest, or their approximation of that as Richie towered over him. Fak was on standby, and based off of what Richie had told you, you were certain that Fak was ready to jump in on Carmy’s behalf and not Richie’s.

There were a few other people there too. You recognized Natalie, worry and frustration all over her face as she watched Carmy and Richie yell and duke it out with each other. Your eyes widened as you took in the entire scene playing out in front of you. It clicked for you why Richie never told you to stop by.

Finally, she snapped. “Will you two shut the fuck up, please?! This isn’t solving anything!”

Richie shook his head, stepping back from Carmy only to aggressively gesture at him instead. “Nothing this dickhead is doing is solving anything! That’s the whole fuckin’—”

“I’m sorry,” Carmy interrupted Richie’s tirade, no longer looking at the man who had just been about to throw him through the crumbling sheetrock walls around them, “um who, who are you?”

Your eyes widened further not just at the fact that he was looking at you, talking to you, but at the drastic shift in his voice. He was quiet now, tone almost gentle, but clearly very confused. You cleared your throat, the nerves you’d felt standing in front of the restaurant were back in full-swing now that the yelling had stopped.

“Hi, sorry. I just—” you stopped short and held up the leather jacket in your hand as your only explanation.

Richie’s originally surprised expression had shifted to confusion. But once he saw the jacket in your hand, it changed into something else entirely. Almost soft. As soft as he would allow himself to be in the middle of the warzone.

“Shit,” his shoulders dropped and he stepped away from Carmy. “Thank you. Completely fuckin’,” he didn’t finish the sentence throwing out a vague hand gesture instead.

You chuckled quietly, still feeling awkward in the midst of it all but not quite as much now. Richie was, strangely enough, your tether in the midst of whatever storm you’d stumbled into. “I know.”

You handed it over to him, looking around at everyone who was looking at you. Maybe you should introduce yourself to the room. You knew most of them, or knew of them at least. Richie talked about them enough to make you feel like you knew them—you saw the pictures in his apartment, on his phone. Judging by the various looks of shock and confusion on everyone else’s faces, he was not as talkative about you as he was about all of them. That was about what you expected. You waited to see if Richie was gonna introduce you instead of making you do it, but he looked just about as lost as anyone else.

Clearing his throat, he nodded back the way you’d come in. “I’ll walk you out.”

You nodded, looking around at everyone. “It’s was nice to…you know…” you waved awkwardly. “Bye.”

The variety of goodbye’s that you got from everyone in the room was humorous. Or it was to you, at least. Judging by the look on Richie’s face you had the feeling that he was never going to be hearing the end of everything that just transpired over the last sixty seconds. You knew that whatever that was wasn’t their best behavior, but it was the best they could conjure up given your unexpected arrival and the fact that they had no idea who the fuck you were. It was a little impressive, honestly, especially if any of them were anything like Richie.

“I was gonna call,” you said as you and Richie made your way back through the minefield, trying to take all the same steps you had on the way in but in reverse lest you cause something else to collapse, “but then the door was open so I sorta just let myself in.”

He shook his head. “It’s fine. You’re fine.” He paused as he reached to open the door for you. “How much of that did you catch?”

You laughed. “Um, caught just about everything after you told one of them that you are ‘perfectly fucking capable’ of tearing the wall down safely.”

Richie shook his head. “Fuckin’ Fak.”

 You continued, not acknowledging his statement with anything but a smile. “Which, no offense,” you looked over at him, “I heard the crashing when I walked in. Not sure how true that is.”

“Not you too,” he shook his head as you both stood in the doorway. You were standing just out on the sidewalk, Richie just barely inside the hollowed-out restaurant.

“Just keepin’ it real,” you said, holding your hands up in surrender.

Richie was still shaking his head as he looked up at the sky for a moment, like he was visibly trying to talk himself out of saying something shitty. Finally looking back at you, he said, “Thanks for the jacket.” He shook it in his hand to emphasize his point.

“I know you guys are,” you made a general circling motion with your hand in the direction of the restaurant, “but call me when you’re done if you want.”

“Alright, yea.” He ran his hand across his brow-line. “I’ll let you know.”

You nodded. “Sounds good.” You leaned in, stealing a chaste kiss before stepping back away again. “Oh, and Richie?”

He looked at you, eyebrows raised. “Yea?”

“Take it easy on Carmy.” You laughed. “It’s fucked up to bully children.”

Richie laughed, tension dropping from his shoulders a little bit. “He makes it too easy, though. Candy from a fuckin’ baby, I swear.”

You laughed a little harder at that, shaking your head. “That’s exactly my point.” You watched him roll his eyes at you and all you could do was smile. “Talk to you later.”

“Yea, yea, I’ll see you.”

Richie stood there in the doorway and watched as you walked back down the sidewalk. You got a few strides away and realized that you hadn’t heard the clattering of the door shutting. When you turned around and saw him standing there still looking at you, you laughed and shook your head at him. He smiled, but rather than saying anything else, he just gave you the finger before pulling out a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his track pants.

When he walked back into the construction area, everyone stopped what they were doing to look at him. By that point, everyone only consisted of Fak and Carmy. Natalie must’ve handed out tasks to just about everyone else, things they could do that didn’t involve trying to work through the mess that Richie had just inadvertently created with the disintegrating wall.

“Who was that?” Carmy immediately asked when Richie stepped back in the room.

“Don’t fuckin’ worry about it.”

Fak piped up. “Is she your girlfriend? Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Shut the fuck up, Neil,” Richie snapped with a shake of his head.

“Is she, though?” Fak didn’t let up.

“No—what—what are we, fuckin’ twelve? She’s not my girlfriend.”

“She’s stopping by!” Fak countered. “With your jacket!” He gasped dramatically. “Do you sleep over?”

“I’m gonna put you through that fuckin’ wall, I swear to god.”

Carmy was half-covering his mouth with his hand watching the two of them going back and forth. He tried not to smile. “She’s not your girlfriend, then. So, so what is she?”

Richie threw his hands up, jacket flapping as he did. “Why are we even talkin’ about this right now? Don’t you have a restaurant to open?”

“Can’t open shit when you’re knocking all the walls down,” Carmy shot back with a small smirk pulling at his lips. He paused. “What’s, what’s the deal?”

Richie shook his head, knowing that he wasn’t going to get out of the conversation without giving some kind of answer. For as annoyed as he was, he also had a sliver of awareness in the back of his mind that when the shoe is on the other foot he was just as relentless, if not more.

“I met her on, fuckin’, you know,” he patted at his pants pocket where his phone was. “And she’s cool.”

“But not your girlfriend,” Carmy clarified.

“No. We’re like, friends with benefits or whatever you fuckin’ lizards call it.”

“You have friends?” Carmy asked with a laugh.

“She gives you benefits?” Fak piped up, his voice that same shocked almost-whisper he used so often.

Richie was shaking his head at both of them. He pointed at Carmy, using the hand that was still clutching his jacket. “Fuck you—yes, I have friends.” He turned to Fak and pointed at him next. “And fuck you, yes I get benefits!” He punctuated the sentence by giving him a good shove.

“Think she’s still gonna give you benefits after seeing you act like a fucking maniac in here today?” Carmy asked, eyebrows slightly raised as he tried and failed miserably at not looking amused.

“Pfft,” Richie shrugged like he was so unbothered by it, like he was far cooler than he really is, “bet I’ll get even more benefits now.”

“Gross,” Carmy responded with a laugh.

“So gross,” Fak agreed.

“You fuckin’ asked,” Richie argued, pointing back and forth between the two of them.

Before they could descend further into the madness, Natalie’s voice came ringing in front the office. “Neil! Sweetheart! Come here for a second, please.”

“Coming!” he called back, charming as ever. He looked at Richie, pointing at him accusingly. “You’re gross.”

“And you don’t fuck, Neil Fak,” Richie replied without missing a beat.

Once he walked out of the room, Richie and Carmy both instantly broke down laughing. They were both shaking their heads, at each other, at Fak, at all of it. The entire morning had been a mess, just like most of the other mornings preceding it. It was so easy to get lost in it sometimes that giving each other shit over things like that was a breath of fresh air in the strangest way. Bullying each other just for the sake of it not because it felt like the restaurant was imploding and they were each trying to cope with it the only way that they really knew how.

“Hey, cousin,” Carmy spoke up after things had quieted between them again. It looked at Richie who was looking down at the jacket in his hand.

“Yea?” Richie pulled his eyes back up.

He nodded in the direction of the door. “That all good?”

Richie shrugged, nodded. “It’s all good.”

The ends of Carmy’s mouth lifted into a tiny grin. It was genuine, still just a touch of humor to it because they were still the exact men that they were. “Alright.” He clapped Richie on the back. “C’mon, let’s clean up this fuckin’ wall you knocked down.”

“I didn’t knock—”

“You fuckin’ did!” Carmy said with a laugh.

“You know what? Whatever,” Richie shook his head. Turning on his heel, he went to put his jacket away, somewhere out of the danger zone. “Grab a fuckin’ broom, then.”

Carmy was shaking his head, already making his way to get supplies to start containing the mess. He grabbed a garbage can and a broom, chuckling to himself when he heard Fak and Richie pick up their arguing all over again just a few yards away.

[laurenairay]

I got a secret, I’m telling everyone - Q. Hughes

Summary: Quinn doesn’t think he’s good enough for Gianna. Gianna doesn’t think Quinn would ever like her as more than a friend. Jack has had enough of the pining.

This is my entry for Rox’s birthday bingo! I couldn’t make it a true bingo @offside-the-lines (sorry!) but I included only one bed, dancing, mutual pining, and truth or dare in this Quinn fic! I hope you like it!

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: some bad language, angst, self-doubt, idiots to lovers

Title from Truth or Dare, by Emily Osment

~

“Hey Quinn, truth or dare.”

“Jack, we’re not 8 years old,” Quinn snorted.

“I mean, if you’re too chicken…”

Quinn rolled his eyes as Jack, Trevor, and Cole all started making chicken squawks, Turcs and Luke just giggling.

“I’m not chicken!”

“So…truth or dare?” Jack grinned.

“Fine, dare.”

“I dare you to finally tell Gianna how you feel about her. By the end of next summer.”

As the group burst into laughter, Quinn just groaned. “You can fuck right off.”

“Are you going to forfeit?”

~

Quinn wished more than anything else that he hadn’t let Jack bait him at the end of last summer. There was just something about his brother and his friends that got under his skin though, especially around Luke, and the last thing he wanted was for any of those younger guys to think he was a ‘wimp’. And he sure as hell wasn’t stupid enough to do any of their forfeits. But that dare?

It had been the bane of his year.

It was hard enough trying to drag his team into the playoffs (and thankfully succeeding, despite ultimately falling in the second round), but having any thoughts in his downtime consumed by Gianna? It was almost too much to handle.

He’d known her for years – a friend of a friend in Michigan – and right from the start he’d been head over heels. He knew he’d been obvious about it to everyone other than her, as much as he hated to admit it. Jack had caught on the quickest, happily gossiping to his NTDP buddies who always hung around in the summers, but thankfully Gianna didn’t seem to have a clue. And for the past three years, that’s exactly how he’d wanted it to stay.

To him, she was perfect. The sweetest, most golden-hearted, prettiest girl he’d ever met; any smile she sent his way never failed to fill his stomach with butterflies. Sometimes it felt like torture watching the sun shine off of her straight honey blonde hair, as it cascaded down to her waist, her baby blue eyes sparkling with laughter. Despite his Jack and Co.’s teasing, she never teased him too, even when he made an ass of himself. To him, Gianna was perfect.

And that’s exactly why he’d never been able to tell her how he felt. Why would someone like her, so far out of his league, ever be interested in him? This stupid dare from Jack had been tormenting him for 10 long months, and he hated how much it was consuming him but he couldn’t help it. And if he didn’t tell her? He’d never hear the end of it – and his pride wouldn’t handle it either. All he could hope was that his brother wouldn’t meddle. That wasn’t too much to ask for, right?

~

When Jack Hughes reached out to her last month to check on her summer plans, Gianna had been more than confused. It wasn’t that they weren’t friendly, but if she was going to talk to any of the Hughes brothers, it was always Quinn. Mostly because they were the same age, but also because while Jack usually had a bunch of his old hockey buddies visiting and Luke was doing his own thing, Quinn always made the effort to include her. What started as just being a friend of one of his local friends had developed into a genuine friendship of their own – something she treasured – and him being back from Vancouver was genuinely one of the highlights of her summers.

How could it not be? He was funny and sweet, and yet serious and caring, all at once. It was an intoxicating combination that she’d never seen in a guy her age before, let alone in one that genuinely seemed to like talking to her. It didn’t help that he was one of the most handsome guys she’d ever met either. Maybe not classically handsome, but there was just something about the way his smile lit up his whole expression that sent her heart fluttering. That, and the way he always took the time to talk to her, even when there were a lot of other people hanging around.

So Jack reaching out? Strange.

Still, she sent her commiserations for his season (gently of course) and responded to his own questions about how her job was going, before he got to the point. He was organising a welcome back/start of the summer long weekend at their cabin – Friday evening to Monday morning – and he wanted to know if she wanted to join them in the group.

For Jack to ask this specifically? Even stranger than him just reaching out.

The temptation of spending time with Quinn in a smaller group setting though? It was too good to resist, and she’d happily agreed. Jack had told her to just pack a bag of clothes and leave everything else up to him (including her transport up to the cabin), which she knew in her bones felt hinky but ultimately decided to ignore. Whatever Jack was up to, she knew he wasn’t cruel in the slightest, so for now she was happy to go along with whatever his plans were – even if one of the ‘instructions’ had been to keep it a ‘surprise’ that she was going, whatever that meant. She could only hope Quinn wouldn’t hate the surprise. That, and the hope that she wouldn’t make an ass of herself. Quinn didn’t think of her as any more than a friend, she knew that, so she had to keep her feelings under wraps.

That shouldn’t be too hard, right?

~

“Jack, what did you do?” Quinn hissed.

“Thanks for organising the welcome back start of the summer party, Jack. Thanks for inviting all the guests, Jack. Thanks for making sure that I didn’t have anything to stress about, Jack.”

Quinn just pursed his lips, raising an eyebrow, making Jack snicker.

“Look, man, you can take the floor if you’re that beat up about it. It’s one weekend – you can handle sharing a room with Gianna for three nights.”

That’s what Quinn was mad about. Jack had taken it upon himself to sort out ‘room assignments’ for the long weekend in the cabin – clearly having gotten Trevor and Cole in on it because they were refusing to help him fix it – leaving Gianna stuck in sharing a room with him. He genuinely couldn’t believe that Jack was forcing Gianna into this, giving her little choice on what to do, and didn’t know what else to do himself as the embarrassment flooded through his veins.

What the hell was Jack up to? Why was he meddling so much?

Quinn knew his brother was up to something when instead of just bringing Trevor, Turcs, and Cole with him, Gianna was sitting blissfully ignorant in the front seat of the car too. It wasn’t that Gianna was the only girl, but she was the only girl sharing a room/sofa/pull-out bed with a guy she wasn’t dating, and he hated that Jack had created this awkward situation in the first place.

How could he fix it?

“Uh, Quinn?”

Quinn snapped his head up at the sound of Gianna’s voice calling to him down the stairs, ignoring Jack and Trevor’s stupid grins (other than to punch Jack in the arm on his way past) to jog upstairs to find out what was wrong. He found her in the doorway of the room they were ‘assigned’ and it wasn’t until he poked his head over her shoulder that he remembered the one detail he really shouldn’t have forgotten.

This was his usual bedroom. With only one bed.

True, it was a queen-size bed, but it was still only one bed. No wonder Jack looked so pleased with himself. Fuck.

“Um, I am so sorry about Jack. I should’ve kicked his ass harder while we were growing up,” Quinn sighed.

Gianna let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. “I can sleep on that bench at the foot of the bed. There’s more than enough room for me there.”

She was petite…but no, no way.

“Definitely not, I can,” Quinn said.

“Your legs will hang over the end of it,” she pointed out, smiling wryly.

He tried not to wince. That was a good point. He didn’t know what was showing on his face but it made Gianna put her hands on her hips.

“We’ll figure it out later. This is an after-bonfire-tonight Gianna-and-Quinn problem,” she said firmly.

Quinn found himself nodding in agreement, too dazed by her words to say anything useful. Giana-and-Quinn. He liked the sound of that.

~

“There’s only one bed.”

“There’s only one bed?! Gi, you have to make a move!”

“And have him completely freak out? Absolutely not.”

“Quinn will not freak out. Everyone knows that he likes you.”

“Everyone?”

“Everyone.”

“Then why hasn’t he ever said anything?”

“I think Jack is trying to kick his ass into motion.”

“Oh. Oh!”

~

This was his own personal circle of hell. Even without looking at him or hearing him, he knew Jack was laughing at him somewhere. Luke had already given up on his pathetic nature, passing him a cold beer before walking off to literally anywhere else. What was wrong? It should be a picture-perfect night – the bonfire was roaring, drinks were flowing, music was playing…and Gianna was dancing.

Not by herself of course, with the other girls. But still – she was dancing, and he was in torment.

While the other girls were trying to act all cute and coquettish (which, more power to them, it was clearly working on the other guys, whatever they intended), Gianna was just flowing to the music, eyes closed and clearly in her own world. She was mesmerising, captivating, all of the synonyms. He was completely and utterly screwed, and not in a fun way.

Jack was definitely laughing at him.

He was so lost in a trance in fact, that he missed her walking over to him, only breaking out of his thoughts when she thumped down in the chair next to him.

“Hey Quinn, you look lonely over here,” she grinned.

He felt his cheeks heat with a tell-tale blush, making her laugh. It was almost musical, totally unfair, and as usual she was leaving him tongue tied.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just getting some peace and quiet,” he managed to blurt out.

Her smile dimmed slightly before returning in full force. “I won’t disturb you any more then.”

Fuck, damn it, no!

“You’re not disturbing me,” he said quickly, shaking his head, “Adding to the peace, if anything.”

Was that desperate? It sounded desperate.

But Gianna just laughed again, settling back into her chair. He didn’t know if it was a trick of the light but the relief that flooded his body seemed to be reflected in her face. She was glad she wasn’t disturbing him?

“Your brother sure knows how to throw a party,” Gianna murmured.

“That’s Jack, life and soul of the party,” Quinn mused.

He hated the pang that rang through his chest. She admired Jack. She admired Jack’s joie de vivre, something he’d never had and would never had. How could he compete with that?

“Yeah Chelsea’s all over that, she loves it,” Gianna grinned, jerking her chin to their right.

What?

Quinn turned his head to see a pretty little brunette (not as pretty as Gianna, of course) leaning up against Jack’s chest, giggling at something that could in no way be that funny.

Gianna was happy for Chelsea?

Oh.

Oh!

“Should I give Trevor a heads up to find somewhere else to sleep?” he smirked.

“Trevor Zegras can figure himself out,” Gianna snorted, smirking slightly back.

If he didn’t adore her before, he was sold hook, line, and sinker now. He had to say something. He had to tell her how he felt. He couldn’t go on any longer with all of this pressure sitting on his chest, weighing him down. He needed to know, either way, how she felt about him too.

“Hey Gi?”

“Yeah Quinn?” she said, turning her head to face him with a smile.

“I’m sorry if this sounds stupid, or unwanted, or just completely out of the blue. It’s just that, well, I can’t get this out of my head and now I’m rambling and-”

Gianna cut him off with a giggle, pressing a finger to his lips.

“Start again,” she prompted, dropping her hand back into her lap.

But her eyes were filled with something he hadn’t expected. Hope. That was everything he needed to steel himself.

“I like you, Gianna. Really like you. And when Jack dared me-”

“Wait, Jack dared you?”

The hurt in her face immediately sent a cold wave through his body.

“No, no, not like that. He dared me to confess my feelings to you. That’s literally it, I swear. He knows that I like you – all the guys do. I’ve just been too much of a coward to say anything,” he explained.

The hurt in her expression melted away, and she nodded, her smile turning shy. Thank fuck for that.

“That does explain why Jack reached out a month ago to find out if I could join you guys this weekend,” she mused.

A month ago? That meddling little rat.

Still, if he hadn’t meddled…

“So you’re not mad or upset that I like you?” Quinn asked hopefully.

Gianna huffed out a laugh, shaking her head, making his whole body feel like it was bursting into fireworks.

“The opposite, actually,” she admitted, “I just…I didn’t think you’d ever see me as more than a friend.”

She didn’t think…?

Without caring about their audience, their setting, or even their drinks, Quinn leant forward and kissed her. He barely heard the surprised soft moan she let out over the cheering of his idiot brother and idiot friends, choosing to flip them off before cupping her face with that same hand. He’d wasted so much time. But now, they had the whole summer to make up for it.

[homerforsure]

Title: old heat of a raging fire

Rating: T

Word Count: 8076 apparently. Oops.

Summary:

"Breathing hurts. Buck’s lungs search for oxygen, drawing too deep breaths from the dregs of his tank until they wheeze and exhale, still half empty. Eddie keeps coughing and coughing, barely seeming to breathe in between, and Buck’s fingers itch to press an oxygen mask to his face except there isn’t one. There never will be one if the hand he’s tracing along the wall never hits the ladder."

BTHB Prompt: Trapped in a Burning Building

[try-set-me-on-fire]

won’t you close your weary eyes

Rated t / 3714 words

Bobby doesn’t actually hear the warning shout. Or- it’s possible that he did, in the moment, but he has no memory of the sound. Just Buck, 20 or so feet away, turning towards him mid conversation with a look of horror on his face, mouth open around an unheard word, arm moving slow motion up in what he's sure is a frantic wave. He does hear the sound of impact, an almost comical series of hollow metallic bonks. They'll all laugh about this later, he thinks on the way down. Bunch of pipes dropping on the fire Captain's head. Pretty sure he saw that on looney toons.

—

Bobby gets a concussion and Buck stays with him. Written for the bad things happen bingo prompt: concussion.

Tag list (interact here to be added or taken off) @phdmama @bbbugzzz @leothil @pantsaretherealheroes @giddyupbuck @hobbitnarwhal @kaseysgirl86-blog @thebrofriends @lillathelegend @thewolvesof1998 @devirnis @bigfootsmom @blahblahwoofwoof @lover-of-mine @steadfastsaturnsrings @malewifediaz @eddiebabygirldiaz @jenniferscraftlife

[dangerpronebuddie]

Pierced Through The Heart But Never Killed (5k)

"Evan," Eddie finally says. He coughs again and Buck's heart aches. Buck's shoulders slump. He looks at Eddie to find a soft, but tired expression on his face. "Buck, you can't get me out of here by yourself.” "And you can't give up," Buck says with all the determination he knows Eddie wishes he had for himself. "I'm not," Eddie assures him. "But they still haven't found a way to get us out of here... and this rebar isn't helping.” Buck gets as close as he can to Eddie, just close enough to hold the hand Eddie extends to him. He has to stretch to reach Eddie, but he doesn't care. "Buck, I need you to listen to me," he says. Buck shakes his head, looking at his boots rather than the sadness in Eddie's eyes. "No. No, you're not doing this, Eds-” "Please," Eddie begs. "Let me tell you…”

For the @badthingshappenbingo prompt: Impaled Chest

[read on ao3]

[campingwiththecharmings]

Smell Like Smoke

AN: Second fic for @moonknight-events' MK Bingo! This might actually be a combo of oral fixation and smoking kink so lmao two for one, I guess?? Also, apologies for any inaccuracies, I do not and have never smoked so my descriptions are all from Google 😂

It hadn’t taken long for him to notice your fixation, the way your eyes would linger whenever he’d pull a cigarette from his jacket pocket, how they’d darken slightly when he’d place it between his lips and light it, the way your pupils dilated when he releases that first puff of smoke. Everytime, without fail, has resulted in you dragging him to bed. Not that Jake was complaining.

(Un-beta’d)

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Prompt: Smoking Kink Words: 1,514 Pairing: Jake Lockley x F!Reader Warnings:  Smoking, kissing, fingering, p in v, car sex (please let me know if i missed anything) AO3

——————

Jake stands alone on the balcony, the sounds of laughter and music playing inside trickling out through the open doors. He closes his eyes as he inhales, the smoke filling his lungs, the nicotine calming his frayed nerves. He exhales, watching as his cloud of smoke slowly dissipates in the cool evening air.

He hears you before he sees you, his mouth quirking briefly in a smile as he brings the cigarette back to his lips.

“There you are,” you say somewhat breathlessly, looping your arm through his. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Jake grunts, releasing another puff of smoke into the air.

“Lo siento, mi amor,” he rasps, briefly pulling the cigarette away and licking his lips. “Just needed a quick break.”

He hears you hum, can feel your eyes on him, on his mouth. He brings the cigarette back, pursing his lips slightly as he sucks in another breath of nicotine-laced smoke. Your breath catches at the action and he bites back an amused smile, wondering how long it’ll take for you to give in and jump him.

It hadn’t taken long for him to notice your fixation, the way your eyes would linger whenever he’d pull a cigarette from his jacket pocket, how they’d darken slightly when he’d place it between his lips and light it, the way your pupils dilated when he releases that first puff of smoke. Everytime, without fail, has resulted in you dragging him to bed. 

Not that Jake was complaining.

You lean into him, pressing yourself against his side, almost as if you’re trying to melt into him. He sighs, a cloud of smoke appearing and hovering before him as he turns to look at you, cigarette dangling from his plush lips.

“Having fun?” he asks, smiling at you.

You swallow, nodding absently as the harsh smell of the smoke stings your nose. Jake’s watches you closely, his eyes tracing the lines of your face. Your gaze is practically glued to his mouth and he just can’t pass up the opportunity to tease you a little. Slowly, he pulls the cigarette from between his lips again, twisting them slightly to avoid exhaling smoke directly in your face (though, he suspects that you might not actually mind that). He wets his lips, slowly dragging the tip of his tongue over the plump, soft skin. Giddiness shoots through him when your own lips part, a shaky exhale escaping as you unconsciously lean closer to him.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks softly, already knowing the answer.

It takes you a moment to respond, your eyes almost black as he sucks in another breath full of smoke.

“Nothing,” you mumble, gaze still fixated on his mouth.

Jake chuckles, the smoke puffing from his nostrils and mouth in stuttered streams and collecting in a cloud between you. He lifts his hand, his thumb and pointer fingers gently grasping your chin as he tilts your head up slightly. 

“My eyes are up here, cariño.”

Immediately, your gaze snaps to his, skin warming slightly in embarrassment.

“I-I know…”

He smirks, maintaining eye contact this time as he takes another pull from his cigarette. You bite your bottom lip, eyes briefly flickering down to his mouth again. That’s all the invitation Jake needs to lean in and capture your lips in a kiss, exhaling the smoking into your mouth as his tongue slips inside. You moan softly, fingers curling into the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer. The bitter taste of the tobacco (with just a hint of clove) on his tongue makes your knees weak and you press your body against his as he plunders your mouth. Jake maneuvers you so your back is pressed against the balcony railing, his arms caging you in on either side, trapping you (not that you’d ever even think of escaping).

A loud cheer from inside reminds you where you are and you force yourself to break the kiss, moving your palm to the center of his chest to gently push him back. His face hovers before yours, the intoxicating smell of him enveloping you.

“Let’s get out of here,” you breathe, resisting the urge to pull his mouth back to yours.

He nods, moving away and bringing his cigarette back up to his lips for one final drag, his teasing gaze locked with yours.

You swallow the whine rising in your throat and glare at him, snatching the cigarette from between his lips and bringing it to your own. He watches you with dark eyes, smoke billowing around him as he exhales slowly through his nose.

“Careful, bebita, they say those things’ll kill you.”

You sniff a laugh, smoke puffing from your nose as you stub the cigarette on the railing and flick it over the side. 

“Guess we’d better live while we can then,” you say, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the door.

Jake chuckles, watching you with fond amusement as you practically drag him outside to the car.

He makes it about a mile down the road before you’re leaning across the center console to nip at his ear, whispering about how wet you are for him.

It takes less than a minute for him to pull over, and even less than that for you to climb into his lap, his hands slipping beneath your dress as you lick into each other's mouths. His fingers dig into your ass as you grind against him, his still-clothed cock straining against the fabric of his pants.You slide your arms around his neck, fingers delving into his soft locks, nails scratching across his scalp. Jake groans, the sensations sending a delicious shiver down his spine. 

Unable to wait another second, he slips beneath the edge of your panties, his fingers sliding through your slick. At his touch, you break from the kiss with a whine that makes his cock twitch. You rut against his hand, desperately seeking the friction he offers, bottom lip captured between your teeth. He whispers to you softly, pressing kisses against your neck, his rough fingers toying with you. You’re close, so close, but you don’t want to finish yet, not like this, not without him inside you.

“Please, Jake,” you plead, breath stuttering in your chest when he pinches your clit.

He seems to understand, moving his free hand down between your legs. He keeps teasing you, working you open with his fingers, his thumb pressing against your needy clit. You hear the sound of his zipper over your labored breaths, feel the rough fabric of his slacks against your thighs, hear his breath catch slightly as he takes himself in hand— 

He shifts, moving his fingers away from you to pull your panties to the side. Before you can mourn the loss of his touch, you feel the head of his cock notch against your entrance. Jake’s groan is broken as you sink down onto him, slowly swallowing him with your wet heat. You close your eyes, shivering slightly as the drag of him sends little jolts of pleasure through your body. His thumb finds your clit again, gently circling the bundle of nerves and your cunt flutters around him, causing you to sink even further down onto his shaft. When the tip of him brushes something electric inside you, you gasp, your head falling forward to rest against his shoulder. He shushes you gently, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as he waits for you to adjust to him.

When you finally start to move, it’s hesitant, your face still pressed against his shoulder, hips tilting and shifting as you slowly rise and fall over him. He lets you set the pace, his hands settling on your waist as he hums something sweet in your ear. It calms you; the sounds, the smells, the solidity of him. You find his lips again, licking into his mouth as you ride him. The taste of his cigarette lingers on his tongue, and something about it sends you into a frenzy—suddenly he’s not close enough, not deep enough. You increase your pace, spearing yourself onto his cock over and over, your combined moans muffled by the tangling of your tongues. 

Your orgasm comes suddenly and with little warning, your body shaking as Jake continues to fuck up into you, his fingers digging into your hips. He follows you over the edge with a choked groan, his hips stuttering slightly as he spills his warmth deep inside you. You stay like that for a moment, panting and limp against each other, Jake’s softening cock still inside you. He’s the first to recover, pressing a kiss against your forehead before pulling back to study your face in the dim light.

After a moment, he asks, “Mind if I smoke?”

His eyes are teasing when you meet them and you can’t stop the snorted laugh that escapes you. 

“I think we’ve established that I definitely do not mind when you smoke, Jake.”

He chuckles, the deep, rich sound of it sending a wave of warmth through you.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟 MK Bingo Masterlist 🌟

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[emlovessid]

@into-the-jeggyverse for the bingo prompt practice kissing, 726 words loosely based in the same universe as this microfic bingo masterpost

“You nervous about tomorrow?”

Regulus looks up from the script he’s been reading to look over at James, who is stretched out on the couch in Regulus’ trailer, his own script held up over his head.

Tomorrow. When they film the most anticipated scene of the season finale, of the entire season if he thinks about it. Their characters’ first kiss.

“A bit, yeah. You?” Regulus asks.

James is quiet for a moment before he says quietly, “Yeah.”

“You’ve done on screen kisses before though, right?”

“One or two, yeah,” he nods.

Regulus can’t help but hate his inexperience in times like this, envying James for the few projects he already had under his belt before taking this on.

Neither of them expected the show to become such a fast hit, the first season sky rocketing to one of the most streamed shows of the year. Which is amazing, and everything an actor hopes for when they sign on for a new project, but it’s also daunting.

Filming the first season, they had no idea whether anyone would actually watch it, so they were just doing their thing, having fun. But now? Filming the second season has been a whole different atmosphere. Because they know that people are watching it now, that people are eagerly anticipating the next season, trawling the internet for any scrap of information or behind the scenes photos they can get their hands on.

They also know that people are dying for the two main characters to get their shit together and make out already, as their director so kindly worded it when giving them the rundown for tomorrow’s filming schedule.

“Scale of one to ten, how awkward is it going to be?”

“Kissing in front of a room full of directors and film crew? An eight or nine, for sure,” James says, laughing as Regulus groans and drops his head to the table. “But you and me kissing? That doesn’t have to be awkward, not if we don’t make it awkward.”

“And how do you propose that?”

“Just get it over with.”

With a laugh, Regulus says, “What, right now?”

He thinks James is joking, is sure James is joking, but then he’s shrugging and says, “Why not? Better to get the nerves out now than on set tomorrow. Blow them away with our professionalism.”

A pause. “Yeah. Okay.”

Leaving his script open on the table in front of him, he pushes himself to his feet and crosses his trailer in a few short steps. He stands awkwardly in front of James for a moment before he takes a seat on the couch beside him.

“It’s just practice,” James says reassuringly.

“Just practice,” Regulus breaths out, leaning in and closing the gap between them before he loses his nerve.

It’s chaste, no more than a brush of lips, but Regulus is more concerned about what he should be doing with his hands, which hover halfway between his lap and James as he grapples with what’s appropriate for a practice kiss. Thankfully James makes the decision for him, his hands coming up to thread in Regulus’ hair, swallowing Regulus’ gasp as his mouth falls open, wasting no time before licking into his mouth.

His hands settle on James’ waist, grasping at the fabric of his shirt, relaxing into him as the initial awkwardness of the kiss gives way to the desire now thrumming between them. He barely registers James’ hands moving from his hair, over the back of his jumper and down to his thighs, until he’s pulling Regulus into his lap, his knees framing James’ hips perfectly, so perfectly that he can’t help the way his hips grind d—

They jump apart at the sound of a knock on the trailer door, followed by a voice calling out, “You’re needed on set in ten minutes, Reg.”

“Y-yep!” Regulus manages, his chest heaving; from the adrenaline of the kiss or from being interrupted, he’s not sure. His eyes return to James then, avoiding looking down at his spit-slicked lips. “Um, thanks.”

Clearing his throat, James gives him a shaky smile and says, “Yeah, of course. Good, uh – good practice.”

“I’ll, um,” he gestures at the door. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

He doesn’t give James a chance to answer, disappearing out the door and into the throng of cast and crew outside.

[quick-catton]

heyyy besties so i watched mota ep2 and it was very fruity. what was that. i know it's supposed to be about serious war. but [minor spoilers] the phone scene where curt calls buck and egan (am i supposed to first name basis them? gale and john?? idk bro) gave me Thoughts, alright.

hear me out. tall stern serious keeps-his-boys-in-check bf (gale) x tall loud rowdy riles-up-his-boys bf (john) x short affectionate golden retriever looks-at-his-boys-like-they-are-the-sun bf (curt).

thoughts.

[offside-the-lines]

Right Where We Left Off | Nico Hischier

Summary: It’s September in NYC and Ana finds herself unexpectedly face-to-face with her ex-boyfriend, Nico. They finally have the conversation they should’ve had seven years ago. But, where does that lead them and what does this mean for her future— their future? After all, who are they to question fate?

This fic is dedicated to @fallinallincurls for her birthday bingo. Happy birthday, Bre! I am always so grateful for the incredible comments you leave on fics. Pairing: Nico Hischier x F!OC Word count: 2.5 k No warnings (as far as I know). Bingo card tropes: Second chance romance, invisible string theory, they’re both idiots; it's always been you. Masterlist

Ana’s exhausted. After ten days of straight work and travel, she just wants to sleep and hide in her expensive hotel room. It’s a gorgeous day in New York City, not sweltering and muggy as it often feels in the summer, and she doesn’t want to waste the opportunity to actually explore the city she has visited many times but never enjoyed.

She turns her face up to the sun and closes her eyes. The sounds of the city carry on around her, and it’s strangely calming— it probably should be unnerving. Besides, she has to make a decision soon about whether she is going to move here, the offer letter taunting her from her email inbox. 

Her mind wanders across the Hudson for a brief second before she catches herself, eyes flying open. She takes a sip of her mocha, savoring the drink that she hopes will bring her some energy. 

It isn’t often that she has a chance to take a day off. Well, no, that’s a lie. She could take any day off if she wanted to. After all, she works for herself. But she usually never lets herself, always working through weekends in an effort to get ahead— of what, she’s not quite sure. 

She has always been a workaholic: working two jobs in college, graduating a year early, and starting and selling her own company before the age of 25. She tells herself that her hard work has given her the happiness she has now. She now has the freedom she always wanted— independence.

Ana’s mother always points out that she’s rushing through life because she doesn’t have an anchor. She always goes on about how the stress and inability to relax is going to take her to an early grave. Ana always sees it for what it is: an unwelcome probe into her dating life. 

She’s doing quite fine on her own, thank you very much— that’s what she always retorted anyway. She can't tell her that the only stress relief she needs is the occasional hookups from the fancy bars she goes to— a series of tall men with brown hair, warm eyes, and a good smile.

Before her mind even has a chance to ruminate on that again, a little boy bumps into her leg— causing her to spill her coffee a little— and runs to hide behind the chair opposite from her.

“You won’t tell him where I am, right?” he whispers. He startles her, and it takes her a few seconds to realize he’s probably playing hide-and-seek. It takes her even longer to realize this child is speaking in her native tongue. He peers up at her with pleading eyes. 

“Of course, sweetie,” she replies, pushing past her confusion. He has big brown eyes and the cutest dimples— it makes her heart ache. She presumes the little boy is hiding from his father and scans the cafe for him. Having not seen anyone looking for a child, she turns back to her coffee and continues to drink it, observing the little boy. “I’m Ana. What’s your name?”

“I’m Jan. I can’t talk right now because I’m hiding, see?” he whispers.

Ana can’t help but let out a chuckle at the earnestness in the kid’s eyes. “Okay then.”

She’s just about to take another sip of her coffee when she hears a gentle voice behind her. “Jan, where did you go?” There’s a pause, “Oh! There you are!” The boy giggles and moves to hide under the table.

Her smile freezes— her whole body freezes. The hairs on the back of her neck prickle, and she feels her cheeks grow warm. It might’ve been seven years, but she’d recognize that voice anywhere— Nico. She doesn’t turn around, praying Jan will just run to his daddy and leave.

She is not that lucky. Footsteps approach her chair, his voice getting closer and closer to her as he says, “Oh my god. Come on, Jan. Get out of there!” 

She closes her eyes and holds her breath.

“I’m so sorry if Jan’s been bothering you, ma’am. I—” His gentle, accented English stops abruptly, and a silence hangs in the air as she slowly opens her eyes. When their eyes meet, Nico lets out a barely audible “Oh.”

“Um,” her gaze darts around, trying to avoid the warm brown eyes that still haunt her dreams, “Hi?”

“My god, is that you?” he mumbles, barely audible. He stares at her, the color draining from his face. 

Jan finally emerges from beneath the table, his curiosity piqued by this stilted exchange. Beaming at her, he reaches up for Nico’s hand— his father’s hand? It had to be, right? The resemblance— she cuts her thoughts off.

“Um... yes?” she manages to say.

“I feel like I’m hallucinating. You’re really here? It’s been so long.”

“Well, yes, Nico, it’s been about seven years.”

“That’s a really long time.” There’s silence as they just stare at each other, neither knowing what to do, neither moving.

“Yes. It is,” she says cautiously.

He rests a hand on Jan’s shoulder, holding him close. “Why did you never call me?” he asks, looking down at his feet.

“Why would I have called you Nico?”

“You left for London without telling me. You told everyone else. I had to find out from Nina.”

“I had no reason to tell you, Nico. We weren’t together anymore,” she scoffs, “You moved too. And besides, you found someone to ‘replace’ me, clearly.” 

She looks at Jan, bile rising in the back of her throat. Nico responds with a puzzled expression before deciding to return to his original line of questioning.

“Why did you leave?”

“I had to go to university, start my career… I have dreams too, remember? Ones that are just as important as yours?” She shudders at the memory of their fight, the fight that broke everything. Her heart races; she can hear the blood rushing in her ears.

“I was young, stupid and immature. But, I swear to God, I loved you so fucking much. You should’ve told me you were moving to London… I would’ve—”

“You would’ve what, Nico? You broke up with me. What was I supposed to do? Stay at home? Or should I have followed you to New Jersey like a sick puppy? Continued wasting my time like I clearly did when you were in Halifax? Watching any and every opportunity— watching my future—  fly by me as I waited for and supported someone who was no longer mine?” 

“I said that we should take a break to figure things out. Figure out what to do long-term. I never meant to suggest that we break up forever. You just assumed— You left. You didn’t even give me a chance to—”

“Look at you, Nico.” She was struggling to keep her voice under control as it wavered and threatened to break. “It’s always someone else’s fault. Nothing’s changed, huh?”

He looks at her, his face shutters with an unreadable expression, before pulling out the chair opposite her. He sits and lifts Jan onto his lap. The little boy looks between them in confusion, ultimately deciding that playing with the wooden block table number is more interesting.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I didn’t mean for it to sound so— I was heartbroken that you weren’t there anymore when I came back after the draft.”

“What about me? What about how I felt when you asked me to just drop my plans for my future like it was no big deal? Or when you suggested we take a break? When you never called me after that summer?” She studies his face, seeing his genuine sadness, and sighs. “We were so young, Neeks. What were the chances it would have even worked out anyway? Even if you had cared to fight for us.”

“I thought that you took the space and realized— I thought that maybe you didn’t want me anymore. I thought that maybe you hated me. I thought that maybe you realized that you were just too good for me. So, I thought that maybe I should let you go, live your life, and find your career like you said you wanted to,” he says, voice thin and reedy before he clears his throat and laughs humorlessly. “I guess I was right, huh? I mean, just look at you now. You’re pretty incredible. Forbes 30 under 30.”

He smiles at her, a small fragile thing. It’s only because she has known him her entire life that she is able to spot the pride that shines through the pain and regret. Her thoughts are crashing inside her mind.

He knows and has clearly been following her career.

In the delicate silence that stretches between them, the storm inside her head is able to bring something else to the surface: the loneliness of her success— the gnawing feeling that something is always missing.

“What about how I felt when I kept hearing our friends talk about every new girlfriend you had?” she whispers, staring into her coffee cup. She has no control over the way her throat tightens over something she’d finished crying over a long time ago.

“I never loved any of them,” he answers without missing a beat; his voice is firm and sure.

“It’s been seven years, Nico. How could you say you never loved any of them?”

“I mean, I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t date some great people because I did. But they were always just— I cared for them, sure, but I was never in love with any of them.” He looks down at the boy sitting in his lap.

“Not even the mother of your child?” she blurts out, outraged.

“The who?” His eyebrows are scrunched low on his face as he studies her.

Ana rolls her eyes and gestures at Jan. “His mother?”

“His— Oh! No, he’s not—” he exclaims before laughing. 

“He looks just like you,” she says, confused.

“Aww,” he coos, tightly clutching the little boy to his chest, “Jan’s my nephew— He’s Luca’s.”

“Oh.” 

Something about her expression sets him off again, throwing his head back as he laughs. Against her will, the sound nestles deep in her chest, filling her with warmth.

“I’m babysitting him today so Luca and his wife can explore the city a bit. I won’t be able to do much once training camp starts next week. And I want to get as much time with this munchkin as possible,” he explains, tickling Jan’s belly to his delight.

Ana feels her chest constrict as she watches them interact. It’s a glimpse into the future she could’ve had, and it hurts in a place so deep in her chest she’s not sure she’s ever going to be able to unearth it. After their first moment of comfortable silence, Nico looks up at her with a soft smile.

“You know, I got you a ring.”

“Y-you w-what?” she says unsteadily as she feels the world stop around her.

“Yeah.” He looks back down at Jan and fidgets with his shirt. “I bought it with my signing bonus. I was going to ask you to marry me when I came back if we had worked things out, which— I know, it was so stupid. We were, what, 18? Like, what was I thinking, right? It wouldn’t have solved anything. But I just wanted— needed you to know how much I loved you and… ” 

His voice gets tighter as he speaks, and he lets the sentence trail off. His eyes flash to hers, holding them so briefly before looking away again. He clears his throat, “I guess we never made it there.”

Ana’s silent for a moment that feels like it stretches a lifetime— or at least, it feels like time has warped and dumped her back into her 18-year-old self, seven years ago. Her heart was pounding so hard that it made her feel faint.

“I would have said yes,” she realizes with a start, the words tumbling out before she has even fully formed the thought in her mind.

“What?” His eyes snap up, finally looking at her again.

“If you had asked me, I would have said yes.”

It was his turn to stare. “Really?” he whispers.

“Yes. Despite our fight, I still loved you. I was waiting for months for you to call me, to tell me that we would work it out, that we were going to be okay long distance for however long it took. I would have— If you begged — Hell if you had just asked...”

Nico just stares, flabbergasted. Neither of them even hear the tapping of Jan’s block on the table. “I still love you,” he says.

“What?”

“What I mean is, can we try again? It may have been seven years, but I still love you.”

“Are you insane?”

“I don’t think so. It has always been you; it will always be you. I have known that for a long time now. There has to be some fate or God or something to bring us back together, right? I feel like it’s a good sign, anyway. I’m sorry for being the idiot I was back then, but I promise I’m ready now. I’m ready to be whatever you need me to be. It won’t be the exact same, but it will finally be us again.”

Ana is stunned, speechless, as she blinks at Nico.

“Nicki?” Jan interrupts their silence, snapping them out of their bubble.

“Yeah, Jan, what’s wrong?”

“Can I have a cookie, please?”

“Sure, bud.” Nico sets him on the floor and stands up. He smiles at her cheekily, “Don’t you dare leave before I get back. I will chase you this time. I’m fast, you know.”

“I’ll be here, I promise.” She feels a bubble of tension burst as she laughs, shaking her head as she watches him walk to the counter holding Jan’s hand.

The seven years apart has worn down her willpower. She gave up on love years ago when she realized that she was probably going to dream about Nico every night for the rest of her life. She’s always known that she would cave if asked; she just never thought this day would come.

She looks at him now. She sees the boy she grew up with and the teenager she fell in love with. But there’s also a sadness behind his eyes that she doesn’t remember being there. The corners of his eyes are worn and weathered in a way that’s unusual for a man in his mid-twenties.

There’s a voice in her head— it sounds eerily like her mother— that points out that she’s always known the truth: Nico was why she was always working, pushing away everyone and everything. It was some twisted self-punishment; if she lost Nico, she had to make the sacrifice worth it.

But maybe— Maybe, she can have both. Ana thinks about the job offer from the company that acquired her start-up— a job based in NYC. She thinks about all the hundreds of coffee shops they could’ve gone to. Maybe there was some fate at play. And who was she to question fate.

Nico sits back down, a tentative smile on his face that makes Ana’s heart flutter for the first time in seven years, and says, “So, Ana, will you pick up where we left off?”

Requests (open) | Masterlist

[drabbles-mc]

All Settled

Rick Flag x F!Reader (past: Rick Flag x June Moone)

For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo square: caught in a storm

Warnings: 18+, language, pining, arguing, light angst

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: They're aruging, they're pining, they're stuck in an airport together. We love to see it! also idk i might write more for these two eventually I'm not sure i just don't know but there are Vibes i might explore later lmao

Suicide Squad Taglist: @garbinge @artemiseamoon @beardburnsupersoldiers @words-and-seeds (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

It was perfect, really. Not in the way that it was good, but in the way that it happened and all you could do was laugh, shake your head, and think to yourself, “Of fucking course.”

“This funny to you?” Rick asked, clearly not as amused as you as he dropped his bag to the floor with a loud thud. It wasn’t nearly as loud as the clap of thunder that sounded right before he’d spoken to you, though.

“I mean,” you said with a shrug, also letting your bag slip down off your shoulders, albeit with less drama, “it’s a little funny to me, yeah.”

He shook his head, scuffing the toe of his boot along the tiled floor. You could tell by that and the tightness of his jaw alone that he was fighting the urge to punt his own bag across the floor. “Glad you think so.”

You didn’t let it faze you—Rick and his short fuse weren’t anything new to you at this point. “Yeah, because getting mad about it like you are seems to be so much better.”

He opened his mouth to fire back at you, but he stopped himself when he saw the traces of amusement on your face, that you were just going to take whatever he said to you in that moment and flip it right back onto him. You were one of the few people in the world that he would request time and time again to assist with Task Force X whenever he could, whenever he got enough leash to bring in an extra body on his side of things. But it didn’t make him any less annoyed with you in moments like this.

“Don’t get your panties in a knot, Flag,” you said as you dropped into one of the many empty chairs behind you. Lightning flashed outside, bright light coming through all the airport windows for a split second. “We’ll be outta here first thing in the morning.”

He shook his head, trying to figure out if he wanted to pace and be angry about the situation, or sit down next to you and be angry about it instead. His exhaustion won out just enough to get him to sink down into the chair beside yours.

“Made it through all that shit, and we get stuck on the layover. That’s,” he shook his head, “that’s just…”

“Perfect,” you finished for him with a laugh. You looked over at him, watching as he shook his head and tried not to look like he wanted to laugh right along with you. “Look at the bright side,” you stretched your legs out in front of you, crossing one over the other, “least we didn’t get stuck in this storm with the rest of the team.”

The sigh he puffed out turned into a laugh, shaking his head as he thought about the scenario you’d just put into his head. “Fuckin’ A.”

“Exactly.” You let your head drop back to rest against the top of the seat. You stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds in silence before saying, “We should’ve gotten a hotel room.”

Now it was his turn to laugh at you. “Seriously? We’ve been stuck out,” he gestured vaguely, not wanting to say exactly where even though there weren’t many people around, “you know, and you’re gonna bitch about sleeping in an airport?”

Turning your head to look at him, you raised your eyebrows and replied, “I’m off the clock, Rick—I’d like to sleep in a real bed if at all possible.”

He chuckled, shaking his head at you. “Poor thing,” he mocked.

You laughed, elbowing his arm off the rest that separated your chair from his. Like he had any right to give you grief about complaining at this point. “Fuck you.”

Neither of you said anything for a bit after that. The two of you sat there in your insanely uncomfortable airport chairs, with posture that wasn’t fit at all for the caliber of soldier that the both of you were. Both of you were watching the few people who were stuck at the airport with you. Your flight had been one of the last, but it seemed like a couple others that were scheduled to leave late got pushed off until the morning. No one was dedicated enough to getting a hotel room to go outside in the rain and wind to get a cab. So you watched everyone putting together makeshift beds of their own out of their luggage, draping themselves across chairs. Whatever it took to be at least mildly comfortable.

You’d been still and quiet for so long that Rick thought that you might’ve fallen asleep. Tilting his head, he glanced over at you to find you very much awake. Your eyes were fixed on the small cluster of people who were at the gate across from yours. Among them was a woman with two children, young enough that they thought this was all so fun and exciting.

“Why do you always say yes?” he asked you, watching you as you watched everything around you.

Your face contorted in confusion but you still didn’t turn to face him. “Hm?”

“When I put in the request for you, why do you always say yes?”

You chuckled, finally facing him. “Why do you keep requesting me?”

“’Cause I know you won’t let me get shot.”

You laughed at that, trying not to be too loud as everyone continued to hunker down to go to sleep. “Yea, I guess that’s fair.” You pulled your legs up, feet resting on the edge of your seat as you wrapped your arms so that your hands interlocked and rested on your shins. “Maybe I just like making sure you don’t get shot.”

He smiled, a tiny grin that was briefly illuminated by another strike of lightning. “Can’t like it that much.”

You arched your brow. “Want me to start saying no? Leave the big bad Colonel all on his own?”

He shook his head at you. “Not what I said. I just, I don’t know.” He crossed his arms, letting them rest over his stomach as he looked at the same place you’d just been looking. “You always seemed like you were looking to settle down. This,” he laughed, “this shit ain’t settled.”

You hummed in amusement as you nodded. “It’s not.” You paused. “I’m just, I don’t know, guess I haven’t really found someone to settle with yet. Not gonna give this up with no reason to.” You waited for him to look at you. “Lucky for you, though, huh?”

He nodded, gave you a quick smirk, but he didn’t say anything else in response. You couldn’t tell if there was more that he wanted to say. Either way, it didn’t matter much. He sunk down a little farther in his chair, long legs stretched out in front of him. The heel of his boots rested just on the far side of his ridiculously large duffle bag, ensuring that no one would be able to try and snatch it without him noticing. You shook your head at the precaution—it didn’t seem like anyone in present company was going to want any of his fatigues and t-shirts that hadn’t been washed in a week. You let him have that, though. You watched as his chin dropped and tucked towards his chest, eyes falling closed even though he probably wouldn’t actually fall asleep for a long time.

“Think you’re ever going to?” you asked, propping your chin on your knees as you did.

His eyes were still shut as he asked, “Ever gonna what?”

“Settle down?”

His eyes slowly opened, muscles tensing as he processed the two-word question. “I don’t know.”

You were nearly kicking yourself for ruining the moment. Things were fine. You didn’t have to pry, but you did it anyway. You just couldn’t let things lie—it was a habit you always meant to work on and never got around to it.

“Sorry,” you said, your voice tentative in a way that it hardly ever was with anyone, least of all with Rick.

He looked at you, brows meeting in confusion. “For what?”

You knew that answering the question was just going to dig a deeper hole, but you also knew that you weren’t going to be able to ignore the question, either. Stubbornness was one of the traits that you and Rick shared.

You shrugged, wishing that you could pull your legs in farther, make yourself smaller and disappear out of this conversation. “It’s not my business. I know that…it’s just…I know since June you sorta just—”

“Got it,” he cut you off.

You fought the urge to sigh with everything in you. You were annoyed with yourself, but you were annoyed with him too. “Right.”

There was just enough of a shift in your tone to keep him hooked into the conversation, even though it was evident that neither of you wanted to continue it. “What?”

You shook your head. “I’m not doing this with you, Rick.” He went to try and argue but you kept talking before he could. “You don’t wanna talk about it so we’re just, we’re not gonna talk about it. Forget I fuckin’ said anything.” There was a long stretch of silence and before you could use any impulse control you said, “But to be fair, you asked me first.”

He sighed. “We doin’ this right now?”

“What this are you referring to, exactly?” you snapped, voice hushed. The rain beating down and echoing against the roof helped to hide some of your conversation.

“Since when do you wanna talk about that? About all my shit? About, about June?” He hesitated on it but he still managed to get the question out. You couldn’t remember the last time he actually said her name.

You were too caught up in your frustration to empathize about it though. “Are you serious?” You let your feet drop back to the floor, adjusting yourself in your chair so that your entire torso was turned and facing him. “You’re gonna sit there and pretend that I’m the one who never wanted to talk about it?” You scoffed. “Fuck’s sake, Rick. The only reason I found out the two of you broke up in the first place was because Boomer made some asshole comment and you nearly tossed him out of the helicopter. You have never wanted to talk to me about all of that. About anything, really.”

Rick’s fists were clenched at his sides, trying to keep himself from getting too defensive but you weren’t making it easy for him. You never did. He didn’t make it easy for himself, either. “Hey—”

“Actually, now that I think about it,” you cut him off, “you never talk to me about anything outside of work. You know all about me, but I don’t know shit about—”

“That’s not true,” he interjected, voice firm enough to give you pause. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

Your shoulders slumped in defeat at that. He wasn’t wrong. But you weren’t completely wrong either. You both knew plenty about each other but there were always a series of walls that Rick kept up, ones that you never got around to building for yourself. Moments like that made it hard not to feel the distance.

“Whatever,” you finally said, not wanting to give in and actually tell him that he was right.

He was still shaking his head at you as he went back to staring at his boots. “Don’t know why you care so much anyway—not like you ever liked her.”

“What? I,” you sputtered as you shook your head, “I had no problem with June. What are you talking about? I barely even knew her.”

It was true. Outside of the events of Midway City, you had next to no contact with June. Rick was pretty much her sole protective detail, hence how the rest of their entire situation played out. You were part of his team that time around too, although despite being his right hand, you were far from the top of his priority list the way that you were all the times after that when you guys handled ops together. But that was the only time you ever really spent around June, and to say that you really spent it with her would’ve been a stretch even under the most forgiving circumstances. But still, you never had a problem with her.

He let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle—either way it was full of attitude. “Right.”

You huffed, shaking your head. “Fuck you.”

You angled yourself away from him, turning your body so that you were facing forward again. Part of you wanted to get up and walk to another part of the airport. It would’ve been pointless, though. In just a few more hours the two of you would be sitting next to each other on the plane anyway. There was no escaping him until the trip was over. For a split second, you let yourself indulge in the thought that maybe next time you’d say no when he asked you to tag in.

“Should’ve gotten out when she did,” you mumbled.

You heard the sound of his clothes rustling as he turned to look at you. “What was that?”

You didn’t hesitate, not looking at him but speaking just a little louder, and a whole lot clearer. “I said you should’ve gotten out when she did.” You turned and looked at him, wanting to hit him with the full weight of what you were going to say next. “Maybe then you’d still—”

“Don’t fuckin’ go there,” he said, tone low but brimming with anger.

You rolled your eyes, slumping back against the chair. “Yes, sir.”

There were only about ten seconds between your response and him speaking up again, but those seconds felt like hours to Rick as he tried to force himself to just be honest instead of angry for once. Or at least be honest while he was being angry.

“It was because I wouldn’t give it up,” he finally said, bitterness coating his voice.

Your face scrunched in confusion for a moment before you turned your head to look at him. “What?”

“She left because I wouldn’t give it up. She wanted nothing to do with any of it after everything that happened. I got that. She was just waiting for me to walk away from it too.”

“You got into this shit for her—why didn’t you walk away?”

“Think Waller was just gonna let me walk?”

You shrugged. “Not at first. But she’d get tired of fighting you eventually.” You paused. “She probably would’ve ended your entire military career though.”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, “no thanks.”

“How long did it take her to realize you weren’t gonna quit?” you asked, figuring that if he was gonna open the door you might as well take a peek inside.

He shook his head. “Longer than it should’ve for someone as smart as she is.”

“Love makes you stupid.”

He let out a laugh, one that was one part sadness, one part humor. “Yeah, it does.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. Not on you.”

“You really love this shit, huh?” you asked, really processing the full weight of what he was telling you. Rick had turned his whole life on its head to save June. He said it himself that she was the only woman he’d ever really cared about. From the way he was acting during everything leading up to what happened at Midway City, you were certain that he would’ve done anything for her. But apparently not.

If he laughed you couldn’t hear it over the rumbles of thunder. “’Bout as much as I hate it.” He looked over at the windows for a moment, able to see the rain pelting down in the dark, then he looked back at you. “Stupid, right?”

You chuckled quietly. “That’s how you know you love it.”

“What’s your excuse, then?” he asked. “Because I know you sure as shit don’t love this.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling in the hopes that it would hide all of the thoughts that were racing through your brain because of his question. “Just an adrenaline junkie now, I guess.” You looked over at him. “Regular military ops just don’t do it for me anymore.”

He was slowly starting to let the tension drop out of his shoulders, his guard slowly coming back down as the both of you began to get back to some sort of common ground. “That’s it, huh?”

It wasn’t the time to get into it. It probably wouldn’t ever be the time to get into it. “That and, like you said, someone’s gotta keep you from getting shot.”

He was shaking his head at you, but at least this time he was almost smiling while he did it. The two of you had always had that going for you—no matter how quickly things tensed up between you, you usually managed to cool back down almost as quickly. Some of that was from all the years and hours you’d spent together, some of it was because in the situations you found yourselves in out in the field, there was no time for grudges so it was best to just let shit go if you could. But for yourself, you also knew that there was an element of not wanting to hang onto that, not with him. It’s why you’d always say yes when he asked you.

For a few seconds it was quieter than it had been. The rain lightened enough to not be echoing as it fell against the roof. The thunder and lightning subsided, and the conversation between you hit a lull. So when Rick cleared his throat, it seemed louder than it really was.

You turned to look at him and found him already staring at you. You raised your eyebrows, silently prompting him to say whatever it was that he was gearing up for. His brows scrunched for a split second, a final hesitation but he was still going to go through with it.

“We’re…?” he trailed off, his tone enough to fill in the rest of the question for him.

You smiled, nodding. “We’re good. Don’t worry,” you shifted in your chair so that you were leaning against his side, your head resting on his shoulder, “I won’t leave you hanging next time you call.”

He chuckled, wanting to shake his head and come back with a snarky remark, but he didn’t have it in him. Tilting his head, he looked over at you and for the first time in a long time, he felt a pull of something deep in his chest. A feeling that he wasn’t sure he could afford to put too much stock in. He let his head drop to rest against yours. “Thanks.”