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sbdskate · 8 months

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Laws Of Attraction (Part 9) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader

Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies(kind of) -> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers

Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings : fluff and cheese, language, slight angst, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3,866

A/N: One day I may be one of those writers who is well organized and has a preplanned schedule for posting, but unfortunately (and as my first fic), today is not that day. Thank you for your patience during this writing drought. Another chapter will be on the way after this, hopefully in a couple of weeks after another round of edits. Shout out to @cutelittlefakejourneys for your help. As always, thank you for reading and don't be a ghost reader!

Daniel Ricciardo had been in your room last night. After a long race day filled with anxiety, media, McLaren, and subsequently relief and pride, he had stolen a bottle of champagne from McLaren’s afterparty, and your heart. He had hesitantly conditioned the gift on being consumed after the signing and delicately suggested you share the bottle, evidently afraid he would tear the fragile string that connected the two of you since the beginning. But you didn’t want to wait, so you had invited him in.

“So that’s how you open a bottle without spilling half of it?”

“What can I say, I’m a woman of many talents. Would you feel more comfortable if I gave you one of my heels to drink out of?” He laughed.

“Nah, not dirty or sweaty enough.”

He looked around to see what you had made of your private space. In contrast to the crisp outward appearance you presented as you strutted through the paddock in your tailored suits, your hotel room was a mess. Laptop open, papers spread out over every surface. Your petite figure was dwarfed by the oversized, plush hotel robe. Behind closed doors he realized you were quite ordinary. Not that you were unremarkable, but in the sense that you were perfectly imperfect.

“What are we toasting to?”

“To finish lines.”

You started out at least trying to be prim and proper, using the hotel’s water glasses as vessels. But at a certain point decorum went out the window and you simply passed the bottle between you sitting cross legged on the floor. Even though it was late, the hours passed like sand through an hourglass.

“Biggest celebrity crush growing up?”

“Leonardo DiCaprio. Easy. Man has been attractive literally at all stages of my life, from the time I was six watching ‘Growing Pains’ to now. Dude aged like fine wine. Unfortunately though I’ve aged out of his dating pool.”

He observed your lips wrap around the mouth of the bottle, how small your hand looked holding it, and his imagination ventured to unclean places.

“You?”

“Josh Allen,” he said without skipping a beat.

“You were five when Josh Allen was born. I know he’s your boyfriend but that doesn’t count.”

“Fine, fine, fine. I might have had a poster of Kylie Minogue in my bedroom when I was like, twelve.”

The two of you sat side by side at the foot of the bed, your hands inched closer towards one another as the night dwelled on.

“If you could do anything in the world, if money didn’t matter, what would you do?”

“Eh. I think I’d still be a lawyer.” He snorted.

“That’s the biggest fucking lie I’ve ever heard.”

“What? Someone’s gotta do it.”

“Come on. Do you actually love this? You’ve been away from your life in the States for months. And for what?”

“Well, I got to travel the world, meet cool celebrities… I got to know you. That must count for something, right?”

You tried to deliver the earnest statement as casually as possible, hoping he wouldn’t read too much into it. But the heft of your words hung in the air and blended with the little popped champagne bubbles that had evaporated. After months of Daniel tormenting you with flirty comments, it was his turn to try to ignore your flattery.

“Really. Money’s no object. Any job in the world. Go.”

“Ok ok fine. I suppose - Oh I don’t know… Maybe I’d be a food critic. I love to eat, I like to complain, and I like writing, so I feel like that’s the perfect marriage of all those things. Or… maybe I’d just drop off the grid completely. I’ve always dreamed about running off to the rolling hills of Italy and living off the land, maybe I’d open a flower shop or something. Really just live out my Under the Tuscan Sun fantasy. But it’s silly. I’ve worked so hard to get to where I am, I could never imagine throwing it all away.”

“It’s not silly.”

Your sideways glance met his deep pools of dark ember, filled with sincerity. You took a swig of champagne and passed the bottle back to him, wishing to wash away the palpable chemistry that swirled around you.

“What about you?”

“I guess I’d still be doing this.” You frowned, sensing his timidness.

“That’s not fair, you made me pick something.”

“Come on, it’s not like I have any transferable skills. I don’t know what else I could do.”

“You literally have two side hustles already. Wine maker and fashion mogul don’t do it for you?”

You thought you could crack a smile out of him, but instead the corners of his mouth downturned slightly.

“It’s not the same. We already decided the second time we met I could never have a desk job. I’m an adrenaline junkie, I’ve always needed to be in a car. Plus my parents worked hard to get me here, to get those opportunities for me, and seeing them happy makes me happy. I don’t know what else there is.”

“Your mother has a small heart attack every time you race.” You tried to placate his uncertainty, but the light conversation had turned heavy and there was no undoing it.

“Oh, that’s neither here nor there,” he brushed off.

“What about all the cameras constantly in your face? Don’t you miss being anonymous?”

This seemed to make him pause.

“I do… but at the same time, part of the fun was getting to make a name for myself. I’m not sure I fully knew what I was getting myself into, but I knew that fame came with the territory if I was actually good at what I was doing. Do I miss being able to walk down the street or go to a restaurant without being bombarded? Yeah for sure. But even when I had that, I don’t think I enjoyed it because I was always trying to get to the next step.” He paused, the furrow in his brow coming undone. “Do I love it right now in this very moment? No. I need a fucking break. I think you corporate people call it ‘burnout’ or whatever. But I’ve loved it up until now, and I know I’ll love it again eventually. I really can’t imagine doing anything else.”

The space between your fingers had vanished. As though your extremities had a mind of their own, you both looked down to study how they folded over one another. There was no recoiling. Your hand, that apparently had its own free will, sent signals to you to look up again. It was ironic that you had partially declined his invitation to the McLaren afterparty because you were afraid of winding up in a situation that vaguely resembled something exactly like this. Tomorrow was so close yet so far, and your wherewithal to resist the magnetic pull between the two of you was at an all time low. Over the last week leading up to the final race, flashbacks of the kiss in Brazil replayed on a loop in your mind. If you blinked you would’ve missed it when it had happened in real time. But the memory teased you and champagne was buzzing through your veins, clouding your judgment. You wanted to explore. Like a moth to a flame, you began leaning in, your eyes fluttering as his lips went in and out of focus.

Instead of being met with Daniel’s embrace, you toppled over as he got to his feet.

“Champagne’s gone, guess that’s my cue for bed.”

You propped yourself on your elbow as you looked up at him incredulously. How much champagne had you had, that you had so badly misread the situation? You averted your gaze in embarrassment.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

His extended hand came into view. You slowly looked up again, his warm and inviting eyes conveying more than words ever could. You cautiously accepted his help as he got you to your feet, his strong hold steadying you.

“Do you need any help in the morning?” Yeah, just avoid Daniel until it’s over so you don’t lose your job. That would probably be a good start.

“No, I’m good, thanks though. Do you need any help?”He laughed, mostly out of astonishment that you could possibly ask such a question when you had already done so, so much.

“Yeah, if you could just sign for me too that would be great.” You rolled your eyes and shoved his arm. “Get some rest, yeah?”

And then he was gone. But how could you possibly just get some rest? You tossed and turned, never quite falling into a deep slumber. The scene of two friends on the floor sharing champagne and secrets played over and over. Friends? Colleagues? Business partners? Something else?

It festered as you got ready, before even the sun was up. The tried and true pink suit felt like it might burst at the seams, unable to contain the palpitations in your chest - a concoction of anticipation, nerves, anxiety, and excitement.

It was strange, having such a momentous deal take place outside the confines of a grandiose conference room with a dramatic, long, mahogany table overlooking some city skyline and perhaps a beautiful, shiny body of water. It was a status symbol of Big Law, the firm’s ability to peacock to clients how successful they were. The bigger the room and better the view, the more deserving they were of that outrageously high retainer fee they charged.

Instead, you walked into what was left of Red Bull hospitality after the big, final race weekend. Of course it was sleek and modern in its own right, but it gave an air of approachability that was lacking at the firm’s office. Nonetheless, you tried to import formality back into the space. You had printed and made matching binders of copies of the agreement for everyone present, appropriately tabbed and color coordinated. You brought blue, black, and red pens, highlighters, sharpened No. 2 pencils, and legal pads with the firm’s name emboldened at the top. You had gotten to Red Bull early to set up the space yourself, so that all materials were spaced out accordingly for each chair at the table. You took a step back to admire your handy work. Yes, this would do just fine.

Your phone went off.

DR: Where are you? We’re going to be late.

Y/N: I’m already here.

DR: 🙁

DR: You didn’t wait for me?

DR: It’s going to be weird walking there without you.

Y/N: I figured you wouldn’t want to be over an hour early and you could use the extra sleep. I’m sure you’ll manage.

It was weird for Daniel walking to the paddock without you. The whole morning had been weird. It had been too quiet. There was no offkey musical number through his bathroom wall. He missed the sprightly knock at his door that came about ten minutes too early. He missed guessing which of your faces he’d get when you realized he wasn’t ready. He was amazed at how quickly he had gotten used to you. Had they really only been at this hotel for four days? Five?

His memory taunted him as he walked to Red Bull. He recalled himself holding his breath in anticipation as you closed in on him last night. He felt his heartbeat all the way up to his throat, his pulse points throbbed. It was an out of body experience, watching in slow motion as he pulled himself away from you. He finally learned it was for the best, even though the dejected look on your face pained him.

When he got there, he was disappointed to discover he was the last to arrive, wishing he had more moments alone with you. Christian, Joe, and in-house Red Bull lawyer bros sat around you, centering you as a vibrant glow in a sea of dull blues and grays. He was relieved to discover that you had reserved the seat next to you. He felt his face involuntarily break into grin as he noticed you notice him come into frame.

Christian, who was sitting across from you with his back to the door, saw the slightest twitch of your facial muscles. He whipped around, before a smile was fully formed, knowing exactly what it meant.

“The man of the hour! So nice of you to finally join us.” Everyone stood up for another round of hand shakes and self-congratulatory pats on the back. He could hardly maintain eye contact, his gaze constantly darting back to you. You rose to your feet, but remained in place, patiently waiting your turn for him.

He finally stood in front of his reserved chair, directly facing you. He wasn’t sure what to do – he knew you so well, a handshake hardly seemed appropriate. But you were in front of professionals so a hug wouldn’t do. He knew what he wanted to do, and that certainly wasn’t an option. Fortunately you made the decision for him, instinctively sticking your hand out. He would’ve been a little sad about it, but for the knowing twinkle in your eye. Your palms firmly met, and he appreciated how soft and delicate yours were. It was like you were holding hands.

“Eh-hem.”

You cleared your throat, eyes suddenly piercing. It wasn’t until he felt you try to pry your hand away that he realized he had been shaking it about six seconds too long. He finally relinquished his grip and you both sat down.

“Sorry, I spaced out,” he whispered to you. You only gave him a twitch of a smile and a curt nod in return before swiveling your chair to face the other side of the table.

“Now then. Let’s get started, shall we?”

Daniel almost felt silly for pushing this whole ordeal back an extra day. Almost. He could imagine you marching out of there muttering this could have been an email under your breath. The contract was, for all intents and purposes, finished and truly just needed to be signed. It only took twenty minutes to do a walk through of the terms, which of course no one objected to after the countless back-and-forth’s of redlines, late night phone calls, and negotiations. And then, with a swift flick of his wrist, it was set in stone.

He stared at the wet blue ink on the page. He didn’t realize he was smiling until his cheeks started to hurt.

“I guess we’re engaged now. This feels familiar.” When he finally looked up Christian was beaming back at him like a proud dad.

“Welcome back, Daniel. Welcome home.”

“You do realize that could’ve been an email?” He laughed as he waited behind for you to pack up your stuff. Joe in typical fashion had exchanged quick pleasantries after the signing and was gone in a flash, off to the next client. The other Red Bull representatives followed suit not long after.

“It could’ve, but where’s the fun in that?” He watched as you stuffed the last binder into your bag, fighting with the zipper. When you finished you looked up to find him staring intently at you, causing you to nearly drop your bag.

“Can I help you?”

He leaned against the table, crossing his arms over his chest. You stared at his tan forearms, noticing his veins bulge.

“That depends… do you like surprises?” You did your best to hide a gulp, your throat suddenly dry. He couldn’t possibly be insinuating what you thought…

But if he was, two could play at that game.

“Depends on the surprise,” you purred, leaning forward ever so slightly to show off the v of your necklace that led a trail to your hidden cleavage.

He leaned forward to meet you part way, not breaking eye contact.

“I think you’ll like this one,” he whispered. You felt goosebumps raise on your skin, giddy in suspense. Your heart was about to burst through your chest. Was he really about to take you right here in this office?

Without warning he pushed himself from the table and walked quickly towards the door, leaving you bewildered in the middle of the room. He stopped in the doorway and looked back at you innocently.

“What are you waiting for? Follow me!”

He proceeded to skip down the hallway, forcing you to jog to try to keep up with him.

“Daniel! Wait up! What the hell?”

He led you to the exit of Red Bull hospitality before he finally stopped.

“I may or may not have called in a favor.”

“Daniel, this isn’t funny. What –“

You stopped in your tracks as the doors opened. With your jaw on the floor, you let out a silent scream as Geraldine Estelle Halliwell Horner, aka Geri, aka Ginger Spice, aka one-fifth of the iconic girl group The Spice Girls, stood in front of you in the flesh. As a child of the 90’s, this moment felt biblical.

Apparently Christian was also there. “Oh Darling, I have someone I want to introduce you to.”

You were already barely functioning when she turned away from her husband and made direct eye contact with you. Then, as though it were a conversation about the weather, she very casually said “Oh hello. You must be y/n, I’ve heard so much about you. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Your hand gripped over your chest. Eyes wide, you looked to Daniel to confirm she was not a hologram, but he only gave you a wide grin, then back to Geri who was waiting patiently for you to act like a human which was unfortunately too big of an ask.

“I-you’re-ohmygodIcan’tbelievethisishappening-I-hi-I mean…. You know my name.” You dissolved into fits of nervous giggles. Daniel stood there very pleased with himself. He was a little insulted you weren’t this starstruck when you met him, but it was overshadowed by the immense satisfaction he felt that he initiated something that made you so happy.

Geri gave a sympathetic smile. Clearly this was not the first time a fan lost their shit at her mere presence. “I do. I hear you’ve been very busy the last few weeks.”

“What? Oh, right. Yeah I’ve spent a lot of time with Daniel and your husband.” you blabbed, quickly changing the topic. “Do you and the girls still hang out regularly? Spice World was my favorite movie growing up, and-and-and I memorized all of the choreography to Stop and Spice Up Your Life.” You continued talking a million miles a minute.

“Well that’s good to know in case we ever need a fill-in,” she joked trying to put you at ease. Your demeanor quickly sobered and you put a hand over your heart.

“Oh, Miss Halliwell. I could never replace Victoria on your next reunion tour, but if you absolutely insist I would be honored to step in to ensure the show goes on,” you swore in earnest. Geri slowly nodded, locking eyes with Daniel behind you doing her best to telecommunicate with him. What the fuck. He only shrugged as he continued beaming.

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind,” she said slowly and politely. Daniel finally interjected.

“Y/n, you have to pack and I’m sure Geri and Christian have their own flights to catch…”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time,” you said, Daniel’s voice beginning to bring you back down to earth. You rummaged through your bag, before proudly presenting your hand to her. “Here’s my card in case you or any of the girls need any type of legal assistance, happy to go over any contracts for you or whatever else you may need.” Geri’s forced smile relaxed, appreciating your hustle and intellect.

“This is great, thank you. Girl power, right?” And just like that you were back on Saturn. You proudly held up a peace sign as though you were giving an oath.

“Girl Power. Forever,” you swore. Daniel gently put his hand on your lower back to try and herd you along, but you turned to look back as you walked. “And now that you have my number, let me know if you ever want to get your nails done together or get coffee or even a yoga class!” you called after her. Geri chuckled and waved.

“It was nice meeting you too,” she shouted back.

“Good seeing you too y/n – what am I, chopped liver?” You kept walking and waved him off.

“Oh right, sorry. Yeah yeah, nice seeing you too Christian. Pleasure doing business.”

You proceeded to gush about the encounter the entire way back to the hotel. Your hands flailed in the air as you excitedly repeated every little detail, even though Daniel had also been there to witness the whole thing. Your eyes were bright and wide, still processing the adrenaline.

“So did I do alright then?” he asked cheekily as you approached your rooms.

“Did you do alright?! That was one of the best moments of my life, I could kiss you!”

The words slipped out before you had a chance to think, stopping both of you in your tracks. They hung heavy in the air, waiting for an answer. But for the tension that had dragged on, and built, and compounded on itself for months, the statement would never be interpreted as anything other than an innocent, facetious comment for dramatic effect. But Daniel looked at you intently hoping you meant it. He turned his body to align with yours as you remained frozen, and cautiously stepped forward to remove the space between you. Your mouth parted slightly, trying to find words to explain yourself but drew a blank. He leaned in ever so slightly, his hot breath beating on the side of your face and tickling your ear.

“So do it,” he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear him. You dared to lock eyes with him, searching for an answer. His hand finally did what it had wished to do for so long, gently pushing hair out of your face and finding a home at the nape of your neck. He left it there, but he didn’t have to use any force to bring you together as your heads naturally tilted and pulled inwards like magnets. It was dizzying having his face so close to yours, feeling his breath tickle your nose and your cheeks, stoking the flush that had your face burning.

It was only when your lips were so close that you inhaled each other’s oxygen that you suddenly remembered you were in a very public hallway. You were still in your suit, that felt like it was about suffocate you. To his disappointment, and yours, you fell into old patterns. You pried yourself out of his orbit, stumbling backwards.

“Would you look at the time? I, um, need to go pack. Long flight tomorrow,” you stammered, as you continued backwards towards your room.

“y/n…”

“Congratulations again, I’m super happy for you.”

“Can we at least talk about this?” You fumbled with your keys pretending not to hear him, your focus on the floor.

“It was great working with you. You have a bright future back at Red Bull, I’m sure everything will work out. Have a safe trip back to Perth.”

And with that final, clinical, arms-length message, you left him in the hallway.

255 notes · View notes

willalove75 · 1 year

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Hii! I just wanted to start off by saying I LOVE your fics! Mainly your Rebecca ones :D (I’ve read all of them like more than once lol) They just hit all the feels 🥹 however I was wondering if I could request a Sofia Marchetti one..? (If you still write for her that is)

I’ve moved back into my “Sex education” phase and literally CANNOT find any other pieces of writing for her character!

I was thinking of like reader and Sofia go to see Jackson in the school musical- Romeo and Juliette- and we all know how that went.. anyways I was thinking, while watching, reader and Sofia get a little ✨hot and bothered✨ if you will, and decided to have a fun night after when they go home and Jackson leaves for a cast party or smth

Sorry if this is like random!- it’s just been stuck in my head and I suck at writing things like this. You don’t have to write it if u don’t want to! And I hope I’m making sense about the musical- it’s the one in season 2

Anyways thank you again for all of your lovely Rebecca fics!! and sorry this is like way too long!! 😬

~M <3

AW thank you SO much!!! I was SO surprised when I realized that there literally weren't any Sofia Marchetti fics! But I am more than happy to fill in the gaps😉😂

The latest (and final😭) season premiered the other day and what better way to celebrate than with a new Sofia fic?!

Thank you so much for your request!!💕

Warnings: Smuttttyyyyy

18+ Only. Minors DNI.

After you and Sofia walk into the house when you return from Jackson's school play Sofia heads straight into the kitchen and pops open a bottle of wine.

"So, that was, uh, interesting." You say. "But Jackson did an incredible job!"

"Interesting is certainly one thing to say about it." Sofia says with a chuckle as she beings her wine glass to her lips and takes a sip. "He did do a wonderful job, I'm so proud of him."

"You should be!"

"But if he comes home from that cast party drunk I'm grounding him until the day he turns 18." She deadpans.

You laugh and playfully roll your eyes at her as you pour yourself a glass.

"You think I'm kidding."

"I know you're not, that's why I'm laughing."

"Love, it's not funny!"

"I know, I know. Listen, he's a kid, as long as he's responsible, let him have a little fun. He's a good kid, you know that."

"I don't want to have this conversation anymore so I'm changing the subject. Anyway," Sofia says, rolling her eyes at you. "I can't believe you squealed so loud when that, dick-thing touched you." She says with a smirk.

"I wasn't expecting it to! And I definitely wasn't expecting it to be a penis! Plus you squealed too!"

"I did not-"

"Sofia Marchetti do not lie to me!" You say as you laugh.

"Well I certainly wasn't expecting the kids to have dick fingers and vagina heads."

"Yeah that was definitely a different take on Shakespeare. But it did get me thinking."

Sofia smirks at you and you narrow your eyes at her.

"And what did it get you thinking about?" You ask, quirking an eyebrow at her.

She slowly walks up to you and cages you in against the countertop.

"I think it's better if I show you, rather than tell you." She says, taking your wine glass from your hand and placing it on the counter.

Before you can respond she hoists you up onto the countertop and you let out a squeal. Her hand dives between your legs, under your skirt and she begins rubbing circles over your underwear. Your squeal quickly turns into a moan.

Her fingers find your clit and she rubs small circles over it and you throw your head back and moan. The moment you do her lips latch on to your exposed neck and she begins to kiss and suck as she continues her ministrations.

"Oh fuck, Sofia." You moan.

"You're so wet for me already baby." She says into your skin.

"Please."

Sofia pulls your soaked underwear down your legs and tosses them somewhere onto the kitchen floor. Kneeling on the ground, she kisses her way up the inside of your thighs. Purposefully passing over your heat, she moves to your other thigh and plants kisses into your skin. You tangle your fingers into her hair and try to guide her to where you need her most.

"What is it, love? What do you want?"

Her green eyes flick up to yours as she continues to kiss your thighs. Your brows knit together and your lips part as you beg.

"Please Sof, please."

Without breaking eye contact Sofia flattens her tongue against your dripping pussy and slowly licks up.

"Oh fuck!" You say as you throw your head back.

She laps at it a few times before flicking her tongue against your clit. Your hips buck into her mouth and she grabs your hips and pulls you to the edge of the counter, her nails digging into your skin.

Her tongue glides up and down across your folds and she circles and sucks at your clit. Your fingers are buried into her hair as you cry out louder and louder.

"Oh fuck, right there!" You cry as she sucks on your clit again.

She starts licking and sucking your clit and you whimper.

"Sofia, oh fuck, you're so fucking good."

"You taste delicious my love." She hums into you making your eyes roll back again.

You start to clench around nothing, desperately wishing she would fill you up. And as if she read your mind, Sofia slides two fingers deep into your pussy. As she curls into your walls you buck your hips against her, thrusting her fingers deep into that spot that makes you see stars.

"Fuck! Yes baby right there yes!"

Sofia sucks and flicks over your clit a little harder, your bundle of nerves becoming over-sensitive and you whine. Her fingers curl into that spot again and you feel an orgasm beginning to build.

Looking down you meet Sofia's eyes once more. Her emerald green eyes are now dark with lust, her pupils are completely blown. She thrusts her fingers in and out faster, her motions accompanied by the most pornographic wet noises you've ever heard. You roll your hips in time with her thrusts and you push her face deeper into you.

As she continues to fuck you, you feel her tongue circle around your clit a few times before she sucks on it again, causing you to cry out. She continues that pattern as she pushes you closer and closer to the edge. The peak of your orgasm is coming fast and you pull at her hair and cry out.

"Fuck yes, just like that baby. I'm gonna cum, you're gonna make me fucking cum!"

A few thrusts and sucks later Sofia throws you over the edge and into a state of pure pleasure and bliss. You throw your head back, arch your back, and cry out her name as she fucks you through your orgasm. She thrusts against the pressure your walls are creating as they clench down around her and you swear you see stars.

As the final wave of your orgasm ripples through your body Sofia slows down and pulls her fingers out of you. Not a second goes by before her mouth envelopes your soaked core and you feel her tongue gliding over your wet folds. She moans into you as if she's tasting the most delicious meal she's ever had and you run your fingers through her hair.

When she finishes licking every drop of your arousal from between your legs she leaves a few kisses on the inside of your thighs, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and pulls you in for a kiss.

You can taste yourself on her tongue and you moan into her mouth as you do. Sofia wraps your legs around her waist and she lifts you off the counter and carries you into the living room.

She sits down on the couch with you in her lap and her fingers tangle into your hair as she passionately kisses you. Your hands find her breasts and you grab them over her shirt and massage them. Sofia moans into your mouth and you break the kiss to pull her shirt over her head, tossing it aside.

Your lips find hers once more and you reach around her back to unhook her bra and slide the straps down her shoulders. When they're finally free, you palm both of her breasts and roll her hardening nipples between your fingers. Sofia kisses you harder in response and she bites your lower lip. As she pulls away she pulls your shirt off and takes off your bra. Her lips latch onto one of your nipples as she pinches the other one. Her tongue circles your hardening flesh and she sucks on it before moving over to the other one, giving it the same attention.

Standing up, you pull your skirt off and Sofia stands and slides her pants and drenched underwear down her long legs and kicks them away. She pulls you in for another passionate kiss and whispers in your ear when she breaks the kiss.

"I want to ride that pretty little face of yours."

As you let out a moan, Sofia guides you down to the floor and places one of her knees on either side of your head. She tangles her fingers in your hair and lowers herself onto your mouth. The second your tongue makes contact with her soaked pussy you moan into her. The vibrations causing Sofia to moan in return. Your tongue immediately gets to work and you start lapping at her folds and clit. Sofia grinds her hips down onto your face and your hands grab hold of her hips.

"Just like that, good girl." She purrs.

Flattening your tongue against her heat, you drag her hips slowly but firmly against your tongue. When you get to her clit you hold her hips still and suck on it. Sofia cries out and her hips buck against your hold. Digging your nails into her soft skin you hold her tight while you suck and flick your tongue across her clit over and over. Her juices begin to drip down your chin and you shove your tongue deep into her core.

"Oh fuck!" She cries out as the throws her head back.

Sofia grinds down onto you as she rocks her hips against your tongue. Rolling it deep into her, she lets out a filthy moan and your fingers begin to circle her clit.

"Oh yes, fuck right there!"

You pull her hips down onto your tongue more and you thrust it in and out of her as your fingers quicken their pace. Sofia's breath hitches in her chest and her eyes roll to the back of her head. With another roll of your tongue she lets out another moan and you feel her velvety walls begin to clench down around you.

With a curl of your tongue you feel the soft, spongy spot deep in her and you prod at it.

"Oh god, oh fuck yes!" Sofia cries.

Knowing you found her favorite spot you keep your tongue there and continue to lick and caress it while you continue to rub her clit.

"Oh god baby, I'm gonna cum- fuck!!"

As she speaks you apply more pressure to her clit and slide your tongue out and back into her pussy, hitting that spot once more. Sofia's legs tremble above you and you see her neck and chest turning a deep shade of red.

Reaching up with your free hand, you pinch one of her nipples and roll it between your fingers. You rub her clit faster and fuck her with your tongue harder and she starts to come undone over you.

Her moans grow louder and higher pitched as her body begins to shake. Her pussy walls clench down hard around your tongue and she cries out. You feel her walls relax as she cums hard into your mouth. Releasing her nipple, you caress her thigh and slow your fingers on her clit as she cries out, bucking her hips into your face harder.

After a few almost violent shudders, Sofia collapses forward onto the couch cushion and you pull your tongue out of her soaked core. She whimpers as you lick her clean and when you're satisfied you slide out from between her legs.

Sitting up, you get up on your knees and turn to wrap your arms around her waist. She hums as you embrace her and you leave wet kisses across her back and shoulders.

Sofia climbs onto the couch and sits while you kneel at her feet. She cups your face and pulls you in for a slow, loving kiss.

"You are incredible." She whispers against your lips.

"Not more incredible than you are, my love."

Sofia kisses you again and pulls you onto the couch as she lays back. You lay on top of her and she pulls a blanket over the two of you and runs her fingers through your hair. She lets out a sigh as you kiss her neck and she holds you tight.

"Should we go get cleaned up?" You ask.

"Not right now, I just want to be with you for a little bit."

"Okay, my love." You say as you snuggle into her.

#willalove75 #hannah waddingham #wlw fanfic #sofia marchetti x reader #sofia marchetti #sex education fan fic #sex education netflix #sex education

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soupbabe · 2 years

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Forever (David x Reader)

Reader is nervous about turning and David helps them through it

Literally just writing this because of one (1) thought I had about David. This also became a lil personal fav <2

Warning: blood drinking, a tiny bit suggestive, literally the first time I'm writing something like this 💀

The echo of the radio reached every corner of the cave as your friends gathered around what was left of the hotel lobby. While Paul, Marko, and Dwayne chose to huddle around the fountain, you found yourself home on your boyfriend's lap in his wheelchair. Tonight was a celebration and the boys, particularly David, couldn't wait to get to the main event.

You were going to drink from the bottle.

You were following David into immortality.

All it took was a glance from David for Marko to go into the depths of your soon-to-be new home to fetch the green bottle. In all honesty, you weren't sure about the specifics of the ritual. David described it as his own fountain of youth, with one sip you'll be one with him forever. It was a hefty gamble to agree to do this, for as eternity was a long time. As soon as the thoughts entered your mind, Marko came out with the wine. His voice was lighthearted and sarcastic as he placed the cold container in your hand, "For the guest of honor."

You carefully rotated the bottle, letting your hands glide over the gems and textures. Within a matter of seconds you felt your palms leave fading fog on the gold plating. The group of men looked at your silence and you felt a squeeze at your sides from David. "What's the matter? If you don't take it, I will." Marko joked. You gave the bottle back to him and shrinked into David. "Go ahead." He simply shrugged and popped it open, causing Paul to snatch it out of his hands to take a sip.

As much as you wanted to observe your friends passing the bottle, you felt a leather glove move your attention to stern blue eyes. "Don't tell me you're backing out on me, Y/n." The backhandedly smooth tone had you fidgeting with your hands. "I'm not, just thinking. Forever is just a long time, y'know?" David rolled his eyes, "So?" "So what if something happens during that time. I don't want to be alone for that long." He sighed, laying a passing kiss on your lips. "I wouldn't let you do this if that was going to happen. Become one of us, Y/n."

On queue, Dwayne carried the liquid onto David, who gazed at you with a smirk. "Are you ready?" You shrugged, "I think so." "Then get up, I'll help you relax." You did as the platinum blonde told and as quick as you got up, he turned you to face him and pulled you back into his lap in a straddling position. In the background you could hear everyone's hushed giggles as David held eye contact while he put the blood to his lips.

Everything seemed to blur around you as your boyfriend swiftly put his lips to yours, still wet with red liquid from the sloppy drinking. As sudden and embarrassing as it was, you found yourself leaning into it, wanting more of that vague taste of the drink. David's tongue prodded at your lips and how couldn't you deny him, letting both his tongue and the blood explore your mouth. Flavors of metal and cigarettes flooded your senses, making your eyes blow open and for you to pull back. Admittedly, it wasn't the worst taste in the world, but swapping saliva with your lover skews your perspective on things.

The familiar touch of the glove caressed the side of the mouth as you looked at David once more. He scanned your face, dumbfounded and flustered. "I need you to swallow every last drop." Small bits of teasing laughter escaped him as he saw you gulp and your jaw drop to process what just happened. All you can hear is an abundance of laughter and cursing from your onlookers and if you could burst into flames you would've.

"I guess you're stuck with me forever Y/n. The easy part is done."

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #david the lost boys x reader #the lost boys x reader #tlb david x reader #tlb 1987 #tlb x reader #slasher x reader #slasher x you #horror x reader #horror x you #slasher movie #slasher community #slashers #slashers x reader

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namethat-i-oughttohavetoldyou · 9 months

Text

Happy New One

(Drum roll) @bombawife, happy late holidays & new year! I was your secret santa, and here is your present. :} I hope you like it! Thanks also to @bees-in-a-davidbowie-shirt for hosting the event! I didn't write in a very long time because of several reasons, so I was surprised with how this just... poured out. I tried to use as many of your headcanons as I could, Tine, although it might not be all to obvious. Enjoy, and thanks in advance to all who read/like/reblog! ♥

Water ran across the asphalt by Bombalurina’s paws in great rivulets, collecting in dull puddles and hurrying into gutters with utmost haste, as if was late for a new year’s party held in the sewers. She irritatedly flicked an ear, safe and mostly dry under her little shelter (a cardboard box). The big church bells sounded twelve times, which appeared to mean a lot to the humans celebrating in the surrounding flats and houses, for they came running out, carrying umbrellas, wine bottles that popped loudly when they were opened, long, thin wine glasses and strange cylindrical objects on wooden sticks with strings attached to them.

As Bombalurina observed, they stuck the cylinders’ wooden sticks into the empty bottles, and one of the humans held a matchbox, exclaiming in mounting frustration when the pelting rain kept extinguishing the matches before they could set fire to the cylinder’s strings.

With a sigh, she left her cardboard box in search for a better observation spot – fire was not something she liked to engage with, for… well. Reasons.

She dashed across the street and underneath the closest automobile, relishing in the left-over warmth that came from its motor. Staying here for the rest of the night was not an option, however, since her feet where still wet and the visiting human would possibly drive back home at some point during the night, taking her shelter with them.

Crawling on her belly, she poked her head around one of the tires, and could proudly proclaim a moment later that she only flinched a tiny little bit when Coricopat suddenly appeared before her. Maybe she hissed at him a little, fine. But he moved very quietly and his scent was more than literally drowned out by rain, mud and motor oil, so he would certainly forgive her for her impoliteness.

And forgive he did, and even more so: “I apologize.”

Bombalurina reached out a front paw to touch his, then reached out again to drag him underneath the automobile. “Ditto. Tsk, look at you, all soggy, have you been standing in the rain all evening?”

Coricopat let her indulge in a bit of fur maintenance, then he politely ducked away from her tongue. “I had a feeling you would start to look for me later, so I thought I would spare you the trouble,” he said, and Bombalurina knew better than to question him. Foresight was not one of her strengths, while it definitely was one of Coricopat’s. And Tantomile’s.

Speaking of: “Where is–“

“Home. I intend to be back at the agreed time.”

“Ah.”

Home could mean all sorts of things for the mystic twins; the Junkyard, their human family (of questionable existence) or various attics of department stores and tailor shops.

The human with the matchsticks exclaimed again, this time in triumph. Safely cradled under his palm, the tiny flame fought for its life as it was carried closer to the string of one of the cylinders. The string started to smoke and sizzle, burning remarkably well with how soaked it was, and the smell of petrol stung Bombalurina’s nose.

Humans and cats alike watched as the smoke ate at the string until it reached the cylinder, which – with a deafening screeching sound that made Bombalurina’s fur stand on end – lifted itself out of the bottle and flew up into the cloudy night sky, leaving behind even more smoke.

“What was the purpose of that?” Bombalurina asked, flabbergasted. “Does polluted air have a traditional significance—”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence, because the cylinder didn’t fall back down, as she had expected, but exploded with a CRACK. Completely caught off guard, she jumped backwards, hitting her head on the automobile motor, tail smacking into the nearest puddle.

The humans cheered. Coricopat didn’t even blink.

Aghast, she stayed where she sat, head smarting and tail dripping, as the human with the matchsticks walked up to the next cylinder.

“Ohh, I am going to bite someone,” she snarled when the string was ignited much faster this time. “I will bite him. This is madness!”

The cylinder screamed into the air, and Bombalurina wrung out her tail and aimed for the ankle of the matchstick wielder.

“Look,” Coricopat said suddenly, breaking her concentration.

“What?”

“Look,” he repeated, more forcefully, nodding heavenwards,“how beautiful it is.”

Reluctantly, Bombalurina lifted her gaze and followed the cylinder, wincing as it exploded, just as noisily as the one before it. But –

“Oh.”

A ring of colour burst before her unbelieving eyes, bright before the dark clouds. It spat and crackled, and once the worst noise was over, a shower of golden sparks spilled down like a curtain. For a moment she was worried that the surrounding roofs would catch fire, but the sparks blinked out of existence before they came too close.

Absurdly, the first thought that came to her mind was why on earth Mistoffelees had agreed to be shot into the sky in a cylinder.

The second was: “Hopefully the Everlasting Cat won’t startle and fall down from the Heaviside Layer.”

And the third: “…Is this the human Jellicle Ball? Are they sending their Choice to the Heaviside Layer like this?” How bewildering. Though it did explain why they all seemed so happy. “They choose many humans, don’t they? How do they fit them into cylinders?”

Coricopat smiled. It suited him, the way his multicoloured whiskers pointed upwards and his nose wrinkled.

“No, it’s not their Ball. They’re celebrating the end of the old year, and the beginning of the new. They greet it with colourful rockets.”

‘Rockets’, aha. Bombalurina frowned. “What changes when the new year starts?”

Coricopat shrugged vaguely. “The number on the top of the calender, as far as I’m aware.”

“That’s not very exciting.”

“It is really about the old year ending, leaving sorrows and troubles behind and looking forward to what the new will bring. Perhaps they symbolically destroy the bad with the rockets, to make room for the good. I am not yet versed very well in human traditions.”

“Hm.”

While the method still didn’t quite appeal to her, Bombalurina understood trying to leave the past behind. Even more, she understood not simply walking away, but throwing a bomb, or a rocket in this case, on the past instead, to make sure it was really gone and buried. Or exploded.

A few human kittens (children, that’s what they were called) ran past, holding matchsticks in their little fists. They were very long matchsticks, and they burned in a peculiar way, not unlike the shower of sparks from the rocket, just far smaller, and their flames burned longer.

“Shouldn’t they be in bed?” Bombalurina had once witnessed first-hand what happened when little children stayed up past their bedtime to play with her by their window, and the fallout had been terrible. The children had vanished in bed before their bedroom door had halfway opened, and the parent had chased her away, loudly yelling and wielding a broom.

Maybe these children were running to escape the broom. She couldn’t blame them.

“It’s a special night. They’re allowed to stay up past midnight to celebrate.”

“Ah, good.”

One of the smallest children toddled closer and stuck their little head under the automobile, breathing loudly through their mouth. Their breath smelled like cheese and potato salad.

Coricopat blinked trustingly, and Bombalurina went by his example and meowed, as friendly as she could.

The child stared at them and continued to breathe loudly, seemingly contemplating. Then they rammed the long matchstick in their little fist into a fissure in the pavement, decided: “Kitty-kitty.” and toddled off, joining their siblings once again.

The two cats eyed the present curiously.

“Will this one explode, too?”

“No, this is a sparkler candle. Safe for children. It will not explode.”

“It’s nice.”

“Isn’t it?”

Bombalurina admired the sparks for a while, then she crawled a little closer and reached out a paw. When she was close enough that the sparks hit her fur, she reflexively pulled it back, hackles raising, her instincts screaming danger danger retreat flee! – but reached out again when there was no pain, just a light tingling. “Marvellous.”

Coricopat joined her, sitting close by her side, flank to flank.

“They invented a flame that can’t burn,” Bombalurina said, wonderingly, and suddenly she couldn’t hold back her tears.

Coricopat kept his comments to himself, if he had any, and reached out as well, the little sparking flame cradled safely between their paws, protected from the wind.

“It can burn,” he said eventually, when her tears had run out, and the sparkler candle flame had wandered to the end of the wick, the upper half standing crooked and black. “When you get too close, it burns. It is still fire, after all.”

“Yes,” Bombalurina sniffled, “it is, isn’t it? You can’t take that away.”

They sat and watched and let the sparks rain down on their paws until the candle had burned out.

“Do you have to leave soon?”

“I still have a bit of time.”

The rain had stopped. Together, they crawled out from under the automobile and climbed to the roof of a nearby bus station, paws slipping on the wet metal and coats frizzy from the wind. This time, Bombalurina let them be, proudly standing at the top like a dark red mop fresh from the washer-dryer.

Suddenly, something occurred to her. “You said I would have looked for you later if you hadn’t found me?”

Coricopat smiled again. His multicoloured whiskers gleamed in the light of the many rockets that filled the air with noise and colour now that the downpour had ended.

“You certainly know to look for good company,” he said cheekily, tail rising on its own volition.

“I simply know what’s good for me,” Bombalurina replied with a wink, and the truth of that struck her with a force that took her breath away.

Coricopat only nodded, and turned his head back to watch the sky.

Bombalurina waited until a new rocket string had been ignited, squeezed her eyes shut and imagined shoving all of her hopelessness, isolation and anger anger anger into that little cylinder, letting it burst over the roofs of London in a show of finality, to make room for all the gratefulness and trust and wonder and laughter and safety and warmth and kindness and love and love and love and love–

The rocket exploded, rattling eardrums and windowpanes, painting the night with glimmering spirals and golden, sparkling curtains.

The humans cheered.

And Bombalurina cheered with them.

(Click -> here <- to read the counterpart fic.) A little melancholic, in retrospect, wasn't it? Sorry for that. I projected again. :'D The headcanons I used: -Macavity and Bombalurina are siblings: Bombalurina's dislike of fire and the feelings she tries to alleviate herself of kind of teased an unhappy relationship between them, but I was deliberately vague about the circumstances, because they ultimately don't matter - what matters isn't what happened, but that it's over. That's what a new year's party is all about, right? -Bombalurina is trans: of course she is. Jellicle Cats are trans and gay. -Jellicles have folkstories: Ok. I tried and failed with this one, I hope you can forgive me, @bombawife. Instead I made two cats try their best to make sense of human customs, with more or less success. It's important to say that both Bombalurina and Coricopat are quite young still in this story and haven't figured out humans and their habits as thoroughly as they will later in their lives. (Also, I know I once said that most of my fics take place in a very escapist version of the 1920s/30s, but I can't be arsed to look up when rockets were used the first time, so if it's historically inaccurate: eh.) Anyhow. I have so much more to say but the afterword is more than long enough already, so I'll stop myself here. I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading! ♥♥♥

#namethat-i writes #cats the musical #bombalurina #coricopat #i'm back in business baby

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bratbarzal · 2 months

Text

On Your Side (NH13) / Chapter One

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen*

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

WC: 14k

Chapter Warnings: angst, miscommunication, drinking, some fluff!! a cute flashback and a happy ending, references to poor relationships with parents/bad parenting (including minor mentions of maternally-encouraged disordered eating but not an ed), instagram stalking, allusions to cultural appropriation and problematic tweets, depictions of anxiety, a lot more words than necessary because it was like 23 words away from the next thousand and I'm nothing if not a yapper

Summary: Poppy Jensen’s job with the New Jersey Devils was supposed to be her first big step into adulthood - a way to prove to herself and her overbearing parents that she could make her own way in life. She was never supposed to become involved with any of the players. Becoming best friends with their captain was stupid. Getting her heart broken by him was tragic. Getting knocked up with his child was just plain messy.

Series Masterlist

Previous Part (Prologue)

A/N: thank you thank you thank you for all your kind messages and feedback around the first part it really means a lot to me!! taglist included at the end, if you want to be added pop me a message :)

when I first started writing and mapping this series out I never intended to have split pov chapters cos that's !a lot! but I ended up writing so much more from Nico's perspective I literally never write male pov cos who wants to be in the mind of a man?? not me. but Nico comes easy to me what a man what a man what a mighty good man. he's a bit dumb in this series but who isn't. don't shame him. he is very precious to me.

Poppy

How Poppy ever thought she would have been able to get away with tricking Jack Hughes into forgetting she said she would come to his party by just waiting out his drunkenness, she does not know.

The guy is a nuisance.

Her phone has been blowing up since she and Nia started getting ready for their evening festivities, sharing a bottle of rosé between the two of them as they both sit in Poppy’s bedroom doing their hair and makeup.

Jack: What time do u think u’ll get here? 😬

Poppy: idk

She’d tried being somewhat aloof in the hopes he would move on from bothering her and she could let the wine do it’s intended purpose of blurring her mild irritation from the day, but she’s starting to think mild irritation is Jack’s middle name.

Jack: rough estimate?

Poppy: roughly? 🤔

Poppy: idk 🙂

Jack: cool

Jack: ur uninvited

Poppy: cool

Poppy: see ya next year

Jack: ur reinvented

Jack: invited*

Jack: attendance is mandarin

Jack: mandatory* ffs

“Is that Hughes?” Nia questions the continuous buzz of Poppy’s phone. She’s sat on the floor in front of the mirror with a curling wand in hand, her hair 90% done and curls pinned up to set them. Nia has borrowed some of Poppy’s pyjamas, and is sat wearing a silk robe she didn’t even know she owned. “Dude needs a hobby.”

“Annoying me is his hobby, I think.” Poppy locks her phone and puts it face down on her dresser as she skims through her closet. She did have an outfit picked out already for her usual New Years celebrations, but bar hopping around New Jersey and attending a fancy private party with a bunch of rich athletes and their drop dead gorgeous partners are two different ballgames entirely.

Poppy knows all too well what it feels like to turn up to an organisation event underdressed, and she won’t be making the same mistake ever again - even if this is a party held in a player’s own residence, she knows that people will be dressed up.

It’s New Years Eve, for sake - everyone will be primed for a photo opportunity for the instagram dumps, her usual trusty top, skirt and boots combo won’t cut it.

“Blazer dress?” She holds up her latest suggestion so that her best friend can see it. She’s worn this one a couple times before, knows it makes her legs look incredible when she pairs it with some pantyhose so she doesn’t have to worry about getting too cold on the way there, but it limits her shoe options if she is going to cover her legs.

“Boring,” Nia throws back, and Poppy isn’t even sure she’s looked, but she knew the second she pulled it out her friend would decline - it’s what she’s been doing at everything Poppy owns for the past half an hour.

Poppy’s thankful she hadn’t started by trying on the options, knowing that if she was in and out of all the dresses she’d suggested, she would be a hot, flustered mess by now.

“Surely you’re running out of excuses by now, Ni,” Poppy sighs, stepping away from her closet so she could stare down Nia’s reflection in the mirror she was sat before. “You’re being absolutely no help.”

Nothing has been right.

The red strapless dress that flared out at the waist? Too Christmassy. The navy blue one shoulder body con dress? Too millennial. The rhinestone silver slip dress? Too much. The black off-the-shoulder mini dress? Too plain.

There is nothing in Poppy’s closet that is going to appease her best friend’s tastes, so she doesn’t know why she’s bothering.

“Just give me 2 minutes and I’ll find the one, trust me.”

“Why have you let me stress about this for so long if you’re just gonna come over here and pluck out something random like you’ve had it in mind this whole time?”

“Because I like winding you up and watching you go, Pop.” Nia winks at her from the mirror, holding up her near empty glass. “Top us both up, babe, you still have your cranky pants on from earlier.”

“I’m not cranky.” She mutters to herself, picking her phone back up from where she had just discarded it, and collecting both their glasses to take back through her apartment into her kitchen.

The device buzzes as soon as she sets it on the counter, but she ignores it in favour of pouring herself a drink, taking gulps of the rosé she’s just poured before topping both of the wine glasses back up with equal measures. She needs the extra pick-me-up to calm her nerves, and debates swigging down her second glass when she turns her phone back over.

Jack: ur grumpiness is contagious btw

Jack: u have broken my captain

Below Jack’s messages, he has sent through a picture. It’s a setting Poppy knows all too well, having only left a few hours ago after helping finish set up the party. In the midst of everything - decorations, attendees with drinks in hand chatting away and mingling with each other - Nico stands alone. He has his arms crossed, the sleeves of his sweater rolled up to his elbows, and he looks deep in thought. The people around him have turned into their own conversations, but he shows no interest in joining them, not in the picture at least.

It’s not the way she remembers him to be - not the way the pictures that still litter the front of her refrigerator portray him to be. Front and centre in most of them, tongue sticking out or mouth open in a face consuming grin in all, drink in hand in a few. Her free hand lifts until her fingers graze over one of the pictures - taken when the Devils had thrown a party after they had clinched the playoffs at the end of last season. Nico and Poppy stood together, his arm slung around her, cheeks smushed together as the rest of the boys and a couple other friends from within the team pressed themselves into the frame, smiles so big she can barely see their eyes.

She doesn’t know why the pictures are still up. She should have taken them down, by now. Made way for new memories. Pictures of her with Nia or any of her other friends, pictures of her with family, but she struggles to recall a memory as happy as the ones magnetised to her fridge door - none from the past few months, anyway.

Her eyes dart back to the picture on her phone. Nico doesn’t seem himself, but, then again, he hadn’t seemed entirely himself earlier, either. The few smiles he had offered hadn’t quite reached his eyes, she had noticed, and he constantly broke out into nervous ticks - chewing at the inside of his cheek, scratching at the skin of his elbow when he folded his arms across himself, rocking on the heels of his feet.

Sure, she hadn’t been the nicest to him, but that was the first time they had spent any longer than a minute in each other’s company since the summer, and she’d noticed him being off before that interaction.

He’d been similar when she’d seen him throughout the last week at work. Zoning out sometimes, eyes focusing on some far off spot until someone spoke directly to him and shook him out of it.

Whatever is going on with him isn’t her fault.

Her grumpiness is not contagious.

She isn’t even grumpy.

Poppy: not grumpy

Jack: he’s watching the door

Jack: has been since he got here

Jack: clearly waiting for someone 👀

Poppy: maybe you should talk to him instead of texting me

Poppy: be a good host

Jack: he’s waiting for u 🙂

Poppy: not friends, remember? 🙂

Jack: popstar

Poppy: 🙄

Jack: pls hurry

Jack: he’s depressing me

“This one.” Poppy hadn’t even heard her best friend approaching, her lack of shoes and her featherlight step making her the perfect creeper. Nia is stood on the other side of the kitchen island, holding a dress between both of her hands. Poppy puts her phone back down on the counter and leans over it to properly assess what is being shown to her.

The dress is asymmetric, she thinks - she can’t entirely tell by the way Nia is holding it and she knows she hasn’t worn it before, can still see the tags attached to the label inside - one of the shorter ones in her closet, but not in the way she will worry about flashing her co-workers all night, and a boat neck so she doesn’t have to worry about it being too revealing up top. It ticks most of her boxes. Not too bright, not too showy. She’s pretty certain she’d shown it as one of her earlier options, but Nia had turned her nose up at so many things she can’t remember. She only wishes she had saved herself 30 minutes of irritation by not asking in the first place.

She reaches out to where Nia is holding it, feeling the fabric between her fingers, testing to see if she can see them through the material and breathing a sigh of relief when she can’t. She takes the garment out of her friend’s reach entirely and holds it up in front of her body.

“Are you sure? It’s not too dressy?” Poppy mocks, trying to catch her reflection in the glass parts of her kitchen cabinets.

“It’s perfect,” Nia says, eyes pulled down by the flash of a new message on Poppy’s phone. Too distracted by trying to get a good look at herself, Poppy doesn’t notice her best friend pick up the device and start looking through.

She wouldn’t usually mind, but Nia has been dropping comments ever since she had arrived at Jack’s place earlier, and Poppy has only just been able to shrug off her commentary.

“Why is Jack sending you weird, sad pictures of Captain Sexy?”

“Could you stop calling him that?” Poppy frowns, reaching back out for her phone only for Nia to pull it out of her reach.

“Oh my God, Pop, he’s waiting for you!” She pouts, flipping the screen to show Poppy the newest picture of Nico sat checking his watch.

He’s doing her no favours right now.

“Don’t you start with that, too. I don’t know why everyone’s so intent on blaming me for how sad he looks.” she scoffs, “He’ll be waiting for his girlfriend, Ni,”

“About that,” Nia taps away at the phone before turning it again towards Poppy’s glare. “There’s no trace of a girlfriend on his insta,”

“You’re probably checking the wrong one.”

“Nope. Checked both while you were in the shower before. Not even a sneaky hand shot or a corny Christmas stocking with her name on.”

“Give me that,” Poppy finally manages to snatch the cell back, crease forming between her brows as she frowns down at the device, scrolling through Nico’s private instagram where she knows for a fact there had been pictures of him and Talia earlier in the month.

It isn’t that she checks frequently, she just hasn’t unfollowed him yet - wasn’t ready to put the final nail in the coffin wherein lied their friendship, so to speak - and so she’d seen them as he posted them. And she had maybe tried not to throw up in her mouth and had cast her phone beneath a stack of cushions and throws on her couch to avoid it for a few hours after the fact.

The pictures of them in New York City have disappeared. As have the ones from early December, where they were looking at Christmas trees together, wrapped up in matching hats and scarves with sickly sweet loving gazes cast toward each other. Nothing in November, when Talia had started coming to games and he had posted something with a corny caption along the lines of her being his biggest fan. No carousels, no story highlights, and when she checks his following list, Talia is nowhere to be found.

“Huh,” she mutters, going into the search function and trying to hide from her best friend that Talia is already one of the options there. She really needs to clear her history before that lands her in trouble.

Her latest post is a photo dump from Christmas, Talia with her family, as well as a few other pictures of her in New York throughout December, no sign of Nico in any of them, and he hasn’t liked it. Hasn’t commented his usual red heart. She has no qualms about checking her story - she and Talia were never introduced, she’ll have no idea who she is or care that she’s viewing her story, and she’s a model with thousands of followers, Poppy isn’t sticking out to her at all - and squints to read the text over a video of fireworks before realising it’s written in German. She isn’t in New Jersey. She’s already in 2024 in a whole other timezone, and has left Nico behind.

No wonder he’s grumpy.

Not her fault, after all.

When Poppy snaps herself out of sleuth mode, she looks up to meet Nia’s knowing gaze. She looks smug. Like she’s caught her out - and Poppy can’t even deny that she has. “Stalker."

“You started it.” She huffs, pointlessly locking her phone knowing Nia knows the password and throwing it onto the side.

“I was doing my due diligence as your best friend,” Nia shrugs, picking up the wine glasses as the pair make their way back toward Poppy’s room to finish getting ready. “If we’re heading into a New Year, we are doing so as new and improved women, Poppy. 2024 is the year of reconciliation!”

“I thought 2024 was the year of saying yes.” She mockingly references the mantra her best friend has been spouting since the start of December every time she made a somewhat irrational decision.

“That too, obviously.” Nia smiles big, waiting until Poppy has laid her dress out on the bed to hand her her drink over, holding her own glass out for a toast. “To saying yes to reconciliation!”

“You’re an idiot.” Poppy says, but clinks her glass, anyway.

“No, you are, Pop.”

Poppy can’t shake the buzz of anticipation as the two girls finish getting ready, the previous pool of trepidation in her gut swirling into something a little more optimistic.

It means nothing, she tries to tell herself as she fastens her earrings and fans her hair out down her back so it doesn’t get all tangled up in the hoops. Instagram isn’t a reflection of reality, Poppy, you know this.

There are several reasons the pictures could be gone.

There is a high possibility he has archived the posts because someone leaked the photos of him and Talia. They were on his private account for a reason, and Poppy knows the guys have all had trouble with this kind of thing before - photos from private events being posted all across fan socials because someone had taken screenshots from a hacked account. And she also knows there had been some kind of discourse around Talia online - about some tweets she’d put out years ago or a photo fans had found from a halloween party where her costume wasn’t entirely appropriate - but Poppy had tried not to get lost in it. She didn’t want to form an opinion on the girl without having properly met her, considering they still technically operated in the same circles despite Nico’s insistence that he and Poppy no longer did.

Nico is a protective person by nature - she’s been on the receiving end of it before, so she knows how quickly he can shut things down when intrusive fans become a little too much - and having his privacy violated like that would definitely cause him to be grumpy.

But with the looming possibility that she is looking too much into such an easily misinterpreted detail, the memory of their earlier interaction floods back to the forefront of her mind.

He had spoken to her. In clear, full sentences. As much as she had let him, at least. Had tried to initiate actual conversation, wanting a back and forth that she hadn’t been prepared to reciprocate. He had wanted to help her, wanted to be around, and for as long as he had been with Talia, he hadn’t wanted any of those things.

Something has to have happened, another voice chimes in within her. He’s been off all week, remember?

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

Poppy can’t let herself fall down the rabbit hole of what ifs and hypotheticals. Not anymore. She’s spent the last 4 months in her head about the whole thing, and if she’s going to enter the next year a new and improved woman, she needs to learn to let things go.

Saying yes to reconciliation is one thing, letting delusion take over is another.

She casts a final look over herself in the mirror, fingertips flitting over each of the touch points she wants to check before she leaves. Hair still feels smooth, free of knots and frizz so far, earrings are secure, necklace clasped and positioned right, heels buckled, a couple of rings on odd fingers.

When her right hand brushes her left wrist, her eyes dart over to the jewellery box on her nightstand, where all her favourite pieces are discarded at the end of each day. She knows what is sat in the bottom, has had to ignore its presence every day when she reaches in there to put on her other bits.

On her right wrist sits a welded bracelet, identical to the one currently wrapped around Nia and her other friend Kelsey’s wrists. The trio had gotten the matching permanent jewellery at a random pop-up one weekend in SoHo, figuring it was the more responsible thing to do than get tattoos to symbolise their friendship, and it has lasted well for being 3 years old. Still shiny, still pristine, still as gold as the day it was fixed to her arm. Still never cut off for the sake of an MRI like her mother keeps threatening she will need. Sometimes she wears a watch, usually one gifted to her by Nia after one of her trips to Japan - gold banded with a mother of pearl watch face, classic and goes with everything - but she likes it more for every day, and doesn’t trust herself not to lose it or break the dial if she’s out somewhere at night with a few drinks in her.

Her left wrist has been bare since September, around the time she stopped reaching out to Nico. Before that, since she had received it on her birthday a couple years ago, it had been adorned with her favourite piece of jewellery she had ever been given.

Most people gift Poppy silver, and not that she’s ever ungrateful to receive any present, she can’t bring herself to wear it outside of seeing whoever gave it to her. Silver just never looks right. Mixed metals aren’t her thing, either.

But Nico had gotten it right. A gemstone bracelet, pink tourmaline and opal stones dotted along a fine gold Figaro chain, similar to the one permanently enclosed around her other side. She had worn it every day, wouldn’t even take it off to sleep, and had only stopped when she started to feel the true weight of it.

A constant reminder of a once formidable, now broken link.

“Look, I know you said no gifts,” Nico turned to face Poppy as she unbuckled herself from his passenger seat, turning the engine off so he could focus on her for a minute without the sound of the car running in the background. He usually does the same thing when he drops her home, parks up on the street and leaves the car off until she’s safe inside.

“The flowers from the team are very pretty, so you’re forgiven for going against your word,” She gestured towards the bouquet sitting on his back seat, craning her neck to look back and admire them. She had never seen a red arrangement quite as beautiful as this one - the use of tulips instead of roses a nice touch. “They’ll be dead in a week, but I’ll cherish them for as long as I have them.”

When she looks back toward Nico, he’s wearing a shy smile, and when her gaze drops to his shuffling hands, she notices the elongated black box within them.

“What’s that?” She asked, on too much of a high from such a good day to give him a hard time about it, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as her eyes look back up to meet his.

“We don’t have to call it a gift if you don’t want to,” he extended his hand out towards her, the box clutched between his fingers. “It can be payback for all the snacks you’ve given me in the last year.”

“The snacks you’ve stolen.” She corrected.

“Well, when you keep your office stocked with the stuff only I like, is it really stealing? That sounds like a trap to me.”

“I’ve been collecting evidence against you for your crimes. What I do with it depends entirely on what’s in here.” She had tried to shake the box by her ear to gauge the contents.

“You’ll like it.”

“You sound very sure of yourself.”

“Open the box, Mohn.” Nico’s voice was lower, commanding, and he leaned forward over the console, so close she could probably count his eyelashes if he gave her the time to do so.

The box itself was fancy, bound in black velvet and magnetised like a sunglasses case, so she knew it had to be something nice in there - knew he wasn’t pranking her with team merchandise or a bobblehead version of him for her desk like Jack had tried to give her.

She tried to shrug off the heat of his gaze as she pried it open, never enjoying opening gifts in front of the giver, but her mind went blank as she looked down at what he had gotten her.

The stones in the bracelet matched that of one of the rings she already owned and wore every day, an ornate opal ring passed down from her late grandmother. There were pink gems in there too, and she knew as soon as she saw them what they were.

“It’s your birthstones, right?”

She nods, unable to form any words yet, passing the box back over and holding out her left hand. Most other people she knows don’t pay enough attention to notice she wears gold everyday, and Nico knows her birthstones. “Could you put it on for me, please?”

Nico clasped the chain around her wrist, taking her hand in his and angling it a few ways to make sure it was the perfect fit - loose enough to move around and reposition with ease but not enough to fall past the base of her thumb. “Is it okay?”

“It’s beautiful, Nico.” She smiled softly up at him, watching his eyes reflect the dim ambient light in the car. “I’m never taking it off.”

“You probably should around water,” he had chuckled, bashfully, looking down and breaking their gaze, “I found it in a market back home, I’m not sure how durable it is.”

Poppy knew real gold when she saw it - knew the shimmer of natural gemstones and the shine of genuine opal, the stone on the bracelet mirroring that on her ring that she knew was antique and valuable. And although she didn’t care if it was expensive or not, she understood what he was trying to do.

He hadn’t just stumbled across this on some street market.

Poppy reached over to grab either side of his face, leaning across the console and planting a firm, loud kiss on his forehead, chuckling slightly to herself when she pulls away and he wipes at where her lips had just been in faux disgust. “I’ll look after it, I promise.”

“Happy Birthday, Mohn.”

“Thank you, Nico.”

She had found herself admiring the bracelet every time it caught the light, and when she had met up with her mother days later to celebrate her birthday with her family, the authenticity of it was confirmed when she had heard her shocked gasp - her mom, an expert in fine jewellery, spending the entire evening fawning over it as if she was jealous it wasn’t clasped around her own wrist - and had spent the evening fighting off questions about who had gifted it to her.

She shouldn’t wear it tonight, she thinks. That would be a bad omen - an assumption that one conversation between the two of them was going to immediately put them on the straight and narrow path back to being friends again.

But it’s just a bracelet - a gorgeous one, at that, and Poppy has it in her head that she’s one beautiful accessory short of perfection. She marches over to the jewellery box, opening it up and picking the bracelet up from where it has its own compartment. No one will even notice she tells herself as she manages to clasp the metal around her wrist with one hand, it doesn’t mean anything.

She is about to enter the year of saying yes, after all.

“You good to go?” Nia asks from the doorway of Poppy’s bedroom, Poppy’s phone stretched out for her to take.

“Let’s go.”

Poppy: omw stresshead

Jack: finally!!!!!!

Poppy and Nia arrive to a party that is well and truly in full swing. It’s crowded, Jack having invited all the team and a quite lot of the staff, and everyone has brought a plus one, so Poppy is glad she overcompensated for him when she ordered all the drinks and food. She's also glad Jack and Luke had overcompensated for space when picking out an apartment meant only for the two of them.

The girls had ubered over from Poppy’s apartment despite it being so close, partly due to the almost freezing temperatures in the midst of winter in New Jersey and partly due to the amount of wine they had consumed when they were getting ready.

Poppy is tipsy enough that her previous anxiety around coming has quelled for the most part, but not so much that she is unsteady on her feet.

She’s has a sociable kind of buzz - not that she isn’t usually sociable - that makes her slip into conversations with ease and without much thought about what she needs to say.

She has introduced Nia to whoever she has talked to so far, her best friend holding her own in conversations too, and, attached at the hip, they have immersed themselves into random discussions with the guys, flitting between the different groups that had formed before they got here.

They joke with Luke about Jack torpedoing through the apartment checking in that everyone is having a good time.

John Marino cracks a joke about how on earth Jack has managed to lure Poppy out of whatever hole she’s been crawling into after work, and Nia joins in, affectionately jibing that 2024 is the year Poppy renounces her life as a recluse. She doesn’t usually take well to being the butt of the joke, but she’s happy her friend is getting on with the guys, and the rosé has now managed to fog up the part of her brain that takes offence to little things.

She chats with Holtzy and Jesper about their Christmas spent in each other’s company, not having the opportunity to do so in the week when she had been working. She talks to Dawson about his brief trip back home, to Curtis about his sons and coos at all the pictures he shows her of them in their cute little Christmas get-ups.

She reaches a point where she doesn’t even remember why she hadn’t wanted to be here.

She has built such great relationships with the guys on the team over the years she has worked with the Devils - those friendships extending to their significant others, too.

And it’s only a matter of time before she is pulled into a group of the girls. It’s been a while since she’s been able to catch up with them, having not spent too much time with any of the team outside of work for so long. She is introduced to the new faces, is flashed the sparkling new engagement rings she had only seen on instagram, and is practically given a play-by-play for all the things she’s missed since she truly had dropped off the grid to them.

It is Jesper’s partner, Nicole, who has the guts to open the gossip floodgates. It starts off innocent on her end, telling Poppy about how she and Jesper had hosted Christmas at their place for some of the European bunch, which she already knew after her conversation with Alex and Jesper, and how she had been stressing about how many people she was going to have to entertain. She mentions the amount of food she had to cook, especially considering the amount of hungry athletes in attendance, and then says, “I am thankful Nico turned up alone, after all, though. We ran out of chairs, I almost had to have people standing to eat.”

“Nico went to Christmas alone?” Nia’s ears have clearly perked up at the information, along with the few of the other girls, who all lean into the circle - a telltale sign, if any, that they have stumbled into a juicy topic of conversation.

“Yeah, him and Talia are done.”

“I knew it!” Nia yells in triumph, pointing at Poppy with a too loud, “I told you so!”

Poppy pinches her best friends finger until she drops it, the other girls giggling at her outburst. Thankfully, not too many eyes have been cast their way, the steady thump of the music overpowering their conversation.

“You didn’t know anything,” Poppy rolls her eyes. “She just stalked his instagram.”

“Yeah, sure, I stalked his instagram,” Nia scoffs, “His instagram which his girlfriend has mysteriously disappeared from, Pop, doesn’t take a genius to put 2 and 2 together!”

Poppy really doesn’t want to be having this conversation again. “He probably archived the posts, Ni.”

“Nope. They’re done. Deleted.” Nicole shrugs, “No chance we’ll be seeing her again.”

“Why?” For someone who doesn’t want to engage in a gossip session about the object of her own problems, Poppy sure has had her interest piqued there.

“She dumped him like 2 weeks ago.”

They had literally just been on a romantic trip together, Poppy remembers, why would she dump him?

“Over text.” One of the other girls adds.

“What?!”

“Nia!”

“Sorry!” Nia grimaces at her previous volume, this time definitely attracting attention. “Over text?” She whispers to the circle of girls, who nod in response. “What a bitch.”

Poppy’s stomach feels tight, like her insides are cringing at the realisation of what she’s engaging in. The girls continue to talk around her, but she can’t focus enough to make out words, guilt clouding her senses.

She doesn’t want to talk about Nico - not like this, at least.

She doesn’t want to dissect the breakdown of a relationship he clearly cherished - enough to squash their own. Doesn’t want to pick apart what went wrong, or map out a timeline of how and when things fell apart.

She doesn’t think she could even if she did want to, because all she can do is think about those pictures Jack had sent her earlier, and about how she’d shut Nico down before when he had maybe tried to talk to her - potentially wanting to open up to someone.

As much as she hasn’t been that person for him in a while, she has always wanted to be, and so she can’t help the shame that gnaws at her. Wondering that maybe if she’d had the nerve to take a proper look at him when she’d seen him earlier, or at any point when she’d been in his vicinity and ducked around corners or hung her head to avoid him in the past couple of weeks - if she’d taken notice of him, just once - she’d have been able to see through him.

She’s been so wrapped up in the way she’s been feeling, the way she has been hurting, that it hasn’t occurred to her that he could be hurting, too.

Maybe not for the same reasons, but hurting, all the same.

“I’m gonna get another drink.” She mutters out quietly, excusing herself from the group and ambling through everyone to get to the kitchen.

“Why do you look like that?” She hears as she’s looking through the different bottles littered atop Jack’s countertop. “Please tell me you’re having a good time.”

“It’s not quite the depression session I was promised,” Poppy pouts mockingly over at her jittery friend, trying to fix whatever Jack had seen on her face to question her. “Are you having a good time, Jack?”

“I am if you are.” He reaches out for one of the bottles in front of her, twisting off the cap and taking a swig straight from the bottle of Jim Beam. Poppy grimaces at even the thought of how that tastes. The poor kid is wasting his night away stressing when he should be enjoying himself, she thinks.

“You’re sweating.” She observes.

“Yeah, well, I think I’ve hit 10k steps checking in on everyone.”

“Everyone’s having fun, you should relax.”

“Not everyone,” Jack sings, clearly having found some liquid courage in his gulp of hard liquor.

“99.999% of your guests are having a great time.”

“You know me, Poppet, I’m nothing if not a perfectionist.” He swings his arm around her, guiding her away from the counter until he can point towards the far side of his apartment.

Nico is stood with a few of the other guys - Curtis, Dougie and Timo. He’s listening to their conversation, nursing a bottle of beer in hand, looking between them as they speak, but he’s not engaging in it. Not talking back, only just smiling when the rest of them laugh.

“If I’d have known you’d break him, I never would have sent him to help you earlier.”

“Yeah, I never thanked you for the ambush,” she shrugs out from under his arm, walking back to pour herself a drink, mixing herself a makeshift Paloma with what’s on the counter - tequila and grapefruit juice with a wedge of lime to try and jazz up the plastic cup. “You ever thought that maybe his bad mood has nothing to do with me?”

“No.”

“Jack, we’re-,”

“Not friends. Right. And the Pope’s not really a Catholic, and the Earth is flat.” Jack mocks.

“You know, I’ve always had my suspicions Luke would be the Flat-Earther in your family.”

“He is. He also thinks the world is run by lizard people.”

“Weirdo.”

“Total weirdo.” Jack chuckles, almost losing himself. “Stop trying to dodge the real issues, here, Poppy.” The lack of any childish moniker is Jack’s way of attempting to be stern, he doesn’t resort to it often, but when he does, Poppy tends to fold.

She’d tried her best to avoid broaching the topic of Nico at length with Jack. He’s his captain, his teammate, his friend, too, and it hadn’t felt fair to vent her feelings about the whole situation to someone he was equally, if not more, close to.

There was also the minor detail regarding the voice inside her telling her Nico never cared about her in the same way that stopped her from opening up about her disappointment and hurt out of sheer embarrassment. The potential that she was mourning a friendship that never meant as much to him, and doing so to other people who saw all along what she was too naive to notice.

But that hadn’t stopped Jack from trying to eke out information from her the whole time there had been a noticeable tension between the two of them.

He’d try and initiate conversation between them in group settings, often getting one or two word responses before one of them excused themselves. He’d invite either of them to plans he had with the other person, and there was even a stupid group chat he’d tried to form that Poppy quickly archived and ignored after Nico never responded to Jack’s clear attempt to reel them both in.

“You should talk to him,” Jack pushes, sticking to his guns and rooting for the revival of their relationship. “He’s had a rough couple of weeks, could really use a friend.”

If Poppy Jensen is motivated by anything in life, it is the crippling guilt that Jack knows just how to spark up.

“So I’ve heard. Maybe you should go check on him,”

“Don’t be annoying.” Jack frowns. “I know it sucked that he dropped you before, he’s an idiot and I won’t back him up for it, but you can either mope about it forever and both suffer, or suck it up and move on.”

“Go check on him, Jack.” Poppy speaks through almost gritted teeth.

“Poppy,"

“Don’t be a dumbass.” She sighs. “Be a good host, maybe see if he needs to get another drink,” she enunciates her words as much as she can, and her eyes widen suggestively, waiting for him to catch on.

“Oh!” Jack exclaims, shooting back with a slacked jaw as realisation washes over him. “Yeah, he looks thirsty! Great idea, Poppy!”

He dashes off, bumping straight into someone and getting mildly distracted as their drink spills down his front.

Poppy mutters a profanity to herself, not able to watch the absolute train wreck of a man in front of her.

This is where making spur of the moment decisions gets you, she thinks, but her own thoughts are drowned out by another voice inside her head - one that sounds a little too much like her annoying, inebriated and loud best friend. This is going to be the year of saying yes. Yes to growing up, yes to moving on, and yes to olive branches offered to her from pouty Swiss hockey players who are clearly going through it right now and don’t need her to be stubborn about her forgiveness.

She tries to busy herself in Jack’s kitchen, making quick work of straightening out all the drinks and throwing away some of the discarded cups - anything to avoid looking over to where she knows Jack is being his obnoxious self.

She can practically hear him from where she stands, not knowing lowkey if it smacked him in the teeth. Poppy’s asked me to lure you to the kitchen or Poppy’s absolutely desperate to speak to you, Cap.

Annoying.

“Hi.”

Unlike earlier in the day, Poppy allows herself to truly take Nico in when he stands in front of her, this time.

He’s dressed in all black, a dark sweater and dark jeans, no hat for once though - his hair has grown out enough that it’s at the length he usually gets frustrated with it and hides it under a beanie or a backwards cap, but tonight he hasn’t, unless he’s taken one off and discarded it somewhere. It is a little unruly, but more in the way he might have been running his hands through it all night. And he hasn’t shaven in a few days, she can tell - the darkened formation of a shadowy stubble frames his jawline and runs in a slightly jagged line below his cheek.

“Hey,” she attempts a warm smile when she notices him chewing at the inside corner of his mouth, nervously anticipating a response. Her own heart is thumping so hard in her chest it almost feels like it’s echoing. “You want a beer?”

“Yeah,” he nods, stepping further into the kitchen so he’s on the same side of the counter as her. “Jack just stole mine straight out of my hand. Thanks.”

Of course he did. “He’s a strange boy.” She says, wanting to distance herself from his behaviour. If she’s being fair to herself, she hadn’t asked him to be a freak in his endeavour to send Nico over here - he chose that path, himself.

“Very.” Nico affirms, taking the bottle out of her hands by the neck to avoid touching her. “He’s asked me seven times already if I’m enjoying myself.”

“Yeah, I don’t think we should let him throw another party for a while, it makes him go weird.” She watches him smile as he takes a sip from his drink. “Are you, though? Enjoying yourself, I mean.”

She doesn’t remember talking to Nico ever making her feel like this before. Like an uphill climb to figure out what to say and still only coming out with unfamiliar small talk. But she can give it time, she thinks. Maybe it just needs time. They just need to warm up to each other, again.

“Yeah, but I want to make him sweat a little, so don’t tell him I told you that.”

“I won’t.” The smiles they share are familiar. Knowing. Like they’re the only two people in on a joke. “He said you’ve been off all night.”

She only realises once she’d said it that it’s almost word for word what Nico had said when she saw him earlier in the day. She wonders if he remembers the same thing, wonders if Jack had said something similar to Nico to prompt their run-in. If he had been worried about her in the same way she was starting to worry about him.

“Is that why he sent me over here? For you to scope out the reason for my bad mood?” He tries to keep his tone lighthearted, as Poppy’s has been, but she can tell it’s an effort not to sound bitter. There’s a disappointment that presses obviously on his posture, shoulders dropping.

“Cute how you think I’m at his beck and call like that,” she leans against the counter behind her, wanting to send a message through her body language that she’s settling in for a conversation, instead of avoiding one like before. “He’s worried about you, I think.”

“And you’re speaking to me now for his benefit?”

“No.” She tries not to frown at the accusation. Maybe his back is up after their earlier interaction. All she can do is own up to her actions. Growing up. Moving on. Accepting olive branches from pouty Swiss hockey players. Maybe even offering one of her own. “I feel bad for being a bitch to you before. You were trying to talk to me and I was shutting you down.”

“I didn’t think you were being a bitch, Poppy.” He leans against the counter that is perpendicular to her.

“Oh, I’ll try harder next time, then.” She makes an attempt at a joke, and relief washes over her when he breathes out a chuckle. “I was for sure trying to blow you off.”

“Yeah, I got that from your two word responses.” He jokes back.

It starts to feel like progress. A silence falls between them, and it isn’t uncomfortable, per se, but she doesn’t quite bask in it like she used to. Her muscles don’t relax the same and her worries don’t entirely ease up.

She glances over at him, able to take a good look as he stands with his arms crossed, looking down at the floor as if in deep thought. And, not for the first time in her life, Poppy wishes she could read Nico’s mind.

Nico

Nico is cursing every day he has spent in the cold, away from the warmth of Poppy Jensen. How he’s survived this long, he doesn’t have a clue, but he wishes more than anything he’d worked to fix things so much earlier than now.

It’s not the looming deadline of midnight that’s making him feel like this - he knows deep down that he’s placing an unnecessary time limit upon a reunion - but the instantaneous relief he feels whenever Poppy’s eyes meet his, and she keeps them there, looking straight through the privacy film he’s wrapped himself in for so long. He’d forgotten how good she was at that - making him feel deeply seen with one glance.

It’s the relief he felt when she’d smiled at him - fully, properly smiled; eyes crinkling slightly in the corners, soft, balmy lips stretching and cheeks rounding - or when she’d casually fallen back against the counter, feet crossing over each other at the ankles, showing him she had no intention of running away from him anymore. She’s even facing away from everyone else, not actively looking for a way out. It’s like a flashed out version of the Poppy he had only managed to catch a glimpse of earlier.

He wishes he could have felt this sooner, the absence of the consternation that has clouded his every thought lately brings a welcome comfort. He feels like he’s taken his first deep breath in months, and he’s greedy with it, filling his lungs with everything she can offer. Snark - albeit with less bite than before - sarcasm, jokes, even the littlest offering of pity she seemed to give. He doesn’t have much time for anyone else’s attempts at empathy, but with her he doesn’t care, he’ll take it. With Poppy comes genuine concern, and that means she still cares.

That had been a little hard to gauge before, her avoidance and indifference blurring together, and her lack of emotion had stung, but he sees it better now. Sees it clearer - how she is consciously making an effort to make him feel better.

He doesn’t entirely know why, doesn’t think he deserves it.

“Did you have a nice Christmas?” He asks in an attempt to shift the conversation, not quite ready to attempt to tackle the behemoth elephant in the room - not with everyone around, at least. Although as soon as the words leave his mouth, his toes curl at how he’s now engaging in small talk with her.

Poppy scrunches her nose in a wordless answer, and he feels himself smile before he realises he’s doing it. “It was pretty boring,” she shrugs, “I had dinner with Nia and her dad and then came home, watched some football and snacked myself into a coma.”

Nico frowns, thick eyebrows pushing together as something akin to a fiery guilt bites away at the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t like the idea of Poppy being on her own for the holidays - she’s usually so tied into a routine around this time of the year that it doesn’t seem right. “You spent Christmas alone?”

“My parents went to California to see Oli and his family.”

“And you weren’t dragged along, kicking and screaming?” He asks. She shakes her head and gives him one of those smiles again - and pride swells in his chest at how well he knows her.

Nico finds it strange how much comes flooding back to him when he gives himself the opportunity to think about her. To think about all the parts of their lives they had shared with each other, and all the little details about her that were ingrained within his memory as much as details about himself. Recalling tidbits of information about her comes to him as effortlessly as breathing.

“I’m a big girl, now, I can make my own decisions about where I spend my holidays, thank you very much.”

“I hope that’s not what you said to your mother.”

Nico can’t recall a single person in the world who intimidates him as much as Priscilla Jensen, and he has constant face-offs with amped up, aggressive, mostly 6 foot-whatever hockey players on a regular basis.

That woman is scary, but no one can handle her better than her daughter - he’s witnessed it first hand.

The first time he had ever met Poppy’s mom had been an unfortunate, unplanned accident. He’d been returning from a roadie, and Poppy had loaned him her headphones after his AirPods had given up on him mid-workout the week before. He could have just bought a new paid, but he’d run into her on her way out of work before the team were about to leave, and when he’d mentioned he was about to fly cross-country with no music, she had taken pity on him. She’d placed her headphones around his neck, telling him they had a full charge and should last him until he was home.

And they had. He’d gone straight from the team bus to her place after they’d gotten back from the airport - not much of a detour, her apartment not out of the way on his usual journey home - and when he knocked on the door, he was a little shell-shocked when her mother answered.

A lot of things about the woman before him immediately intimidated him to the nth degree.

The way she somehow seemed to look down upon him, even from a stature that was inches shorter than his own. The way she was dressed, prim and proper, not a wrinkle in her fancy dress, somewhat out of place in the doorway of a Jersey City apartment. The way she so easily made her distaste of him obvious from the second she laid eyes upon him. Dread had consumed him, like he’d stumbled into a lion’s den and the only exit was immediately blocked behind him.

“Who are you?” She had asked. No hello or can I help you? Just pure distain and an eyre of being inconvenienced by his mere presence.

“Oh, I’m Nico,” he stuttered. “Is Poppy here? Poppy Jensen?” He was starting to think he had to have the wrong place, and had seriously just ruined this woman’s day by knocking on her door and interrupting whatever sacrifice she was making to the gods behind closed doors to keep her youth. She was going to sacrifice him, next. But, there was no mistaking the relation when he took a proper look. The slope of her nose, the curve of her lips, the unique shade of her eyes, he was definitely in the right place. “This is Poppy’s apartment, right?”

“What do you want with her?” Her glare was just as accusatory as her tone, like he could ever be worth a second of her or her daughter’s time.

Nico’s throat was closing up. As captain of the Devils, he had faced some hard press in his time Having to deal with media after back to back losses, organisation restructures, poor performances, and dancing around admitting to injuries for himself and his teammates - but he hadn’t had to answer to anyone like this in a long time, and he was seconds away from apologising, forgetting how to speak English, and bolting back down the stairs before he heard Poppy’s voice.

“Jesus, Mom, cool off,” she had sighed, coming into his field of vision behind the scary woman before him. “This is Nico, he’s here to whisk me away into the sunset and elope so I don’t have to answer to you guys anymore.”

Nico’s eyes widened. If she didn’t have a reason to hate him before, she sure did now. Thanks, Poppy.

“That isn’t even remotely funny, Poppy,” her mom snarled, disgust evident in her tone. “You have 5 minutes before we’re leaving.”

She had stormed off then, the echo of her heels clicking against the hard wood floors of Poppy’s apartment echoing until they eventually dulled when Poppy came out into the hallway and closed the door behind her.

“Hi,” Poppy gave a bright smile, as if Nico hadn’t almost just been traumatised.

“I just came to drop these off,” he had gulped, with an alarmed look to make sure she had definitely closed the door and he was safe. He handed over the headphones, as well as a cookie he’d got her from the airport. “Did I do something? Has she gone to put some sort of generational hex on my family back there?”

“You didn’t give her your last name, did you?” Poppy asked, her eyes widening in mocking horror.

“Not funny.”

“Don’t worry about her,” Poppy scoffed, “She wouldn’t waste her evil energy on such petty curses. She’s already forgotten you exist, bud.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” He shuddered, “I don’t think I’ve ever met anybody that so outwardly hates me within seconds of meeting, before.”

“She’s like that with everyone, I wouldn’t take it personally.” Poppy tears open the wrapper to the cookie before bringing it up to her mouth and taking a bite. She hums in appreciation.

“What, even you?”

“Especially me.” She covers her lips as she speaks around the mouthful of gingerbread. When she’s finished, she gives a gentle smile, reaching out to pat his arm, thankfully. “Thanks for the cookie, I’ll let her know who’s to blame next time she’s over and I’m like half a pound heavier.”

“Maybe I should take that back,” he frowned, reaching forward only for her to pull her arm back, out of his reach.

“Nope. This is my only sustenance for the evening. Who knows if she’ll let me even look at the hors d’oeuvres.” She shudders. “I’m resigned to a night of sparkling water and biting my own tongue.”

“If you need me to make up some emergency for you to leave whatever hell it is you’re being taken to, I could call you. I’m really good at fake crying.”

“I bet,” Her eyes shone with mischief, biting back a grin. “Unfortunately I don’t think she’d care enough about your wellbeing to let me leave, but I appreciate the effort, thanks, Cap.”

It was only the rush of blood to his cheeks and the need to divert his gaze from the teasing glimmer in her eyes that brought his attention to Poppy’s attire. An ankle length, satin cocktail dress fit like a glove to Poppy’s figure, the bright magenta colour not something he was used to seeing her in, but complimented her skin tone perfectly, nonetheless. Her hair fell in loose waves, one side tucked behind her ear, and her makeup was soft - cheeks flushed, lips balmy and a small spattering of barely-there shimmer in the corners of her eyes, making them sparkle even more than usual. “You look nice, Mohn” He hadn’t tried to make his voice sound any kind of way, but it had come out lower, breathier than normal, and he couldn’t quite pinpoint the new feeling that began to brew in the pit of his stomach.

“Thank you,” she had given a bashful smile, reaching her left hand up to tuck her hair behind her other ear, too. The bracelet on her wrist had caught the light, the same one he had gifted her on her birthday a few months before, the same one he hasn’t seen her without, since. The beat of the peaceful silence that fell between them was harshly interrupted by the shrill call of Poppy’s name from within her apartment, accompanied by a banging on the other side of the door. Instead of shouting back, Poppy just banged back on her side with her elbow. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Only if you can figure out how to break the curse she’s for sure put on me back there.” He pouts, “Otherwise, it might be too late.”

She smiles big, and his lips automatically mirror the curve of hers, arms instinctively opening for her to shuffle into his embrace. “I’ll see what I can do to save the fate of all future Hischier children.” She promised as her arms wound around his back. “Bye, Nico.”

“Bye, Mohn.” He’d pressed his lips to the top of her head before backing away, making sure she was somewhat safe inside before making his way back down the stairs.

Nico had left her that night to whatever her unspoken, fancy plans with her mother were. He’d driven back to his apartment, unpacked from his roadie, and had spent the evening alone, watching soccer and eating meal prep. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed at the fact he had ended up viewing Poppy’s instagram story a mere 40 seconds after she had posted it.

She had been with Nia, still dressed up, both of them wearing goofy smiles as they fed each other greasy pizza outside one of the hole-in-the-wall vendors in the city across the river.

That had been maybe 18 months ago, and it concerns him only slightly how little has changed in that time.

He’d done the same thing tonight, before Poppy got here. Sat on his own, busying himself by doing nothing on his phone, refreshing instagram in the hopes she or Nia might have posted a story and he could tell where she was outside of checking the door every couple of minutes for her arrival.

He wonders, as he remembers back on how easily Poppy had handled her terrifying mother, if things are still the same with them, but refrains from delving too deep into that whirlpool, and instead asks, “She didn’t blow up on you, then?”

“Worse, she gave me the cold shoulder for a week.”

“Sounds like the dream.”

“You’d think so, but my mother’s version of the silent treatment is surprisingly loud.”

He doesn’t know how he hasn’t noticed it before now. He’s had his eyes on Poppy from the second she came in. He’s watched her hug everyone she speaks to, has watched her hands gesture around whatever story she’s telling, watched her cover her mouth when she laughs a little too hard at someone else’s joke. But it’s only as she lifts the plastic cup she’s holding to her mouth and takes a sip that he catches the glimmer of the gemstones adorning her wrist.

She wasn’t wearing it, earlier today.

Hasn’t worn it in some time, he doesn’t think.

But she’s wearing it now - the bracelet he had given her for her birthday 2 years ago - as pristine as they day he had bought it. She’d worn it so much before that he had thought she’d permanently fixed it to herself, but she’s always taken good care of it. Always cherished it, despite him selling her short on its value.

And he knows he shouldn’t read too much into it. It’s just a piece of jewellery. But it isn’t. It never has been. Not to him, and certainly not to Poppy. So he can’t stop himself before the words tumble out from between his lips. “I think I need some air."

He looks up from her wrist to meet her eyes, now widened in confusion. “Oh,” her lips form a pout around the exclamation, her feet uncrossing and her back straightening until it’s no longer resting against the side. “Okay.”

She seems disappointed, and he immediately realises that she thinks he means without her. “Would you come with me?”

“I, uh,” she cranes her neck to seemingly look back for something in the crowd of their teammates. “I didn’t bring a jacket.” She’s frowning when she faces him again, and he knows not to take it as another attempt to avoid spending time alone with him. She’s genuinely disheartened at the thought of missing out.

“You can borrow mine?” He suggests.

“Are you sure? It’s barely 30 degrees out,”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, like he even understands Fahrenheit, anyway. 30 degrees sounds decent. Where he wants to go, there won’t be much need for a jacket, but that would involve divulging more information to Poppy than he needs to share, right now. He just needs to get her to come with him. “I run hot, remember?” He swears he sees her blush - tries not to give into the quiver of his lip that’s fighting to curve into a smirk. He feels giddy, almost. “I also live upstairs.”

“Oh yeah,” she chuckles, nervously. “Let me just find Nia?”

“Of course.” He straightens up, “I’ll grab my jacket and meet you by the door.”

Nico had shrugged his jacket off somewhere in the corner when he had come in, and when he goes over to retrieve it, digging it out from a pile of coats that had formed since he got here, Jack rushes over.

“Are you-,”

“I’m having a great time, Jack.” He chuckles, and this time he thinks he means it. “Me and Poppy are gonna go out for some fresh air, so don’t go blowing up her phone when you can’t find her.”

“I would literally never do that,” he snorts in denial, backing away and acquiescing immediately, giving up whatever he had come over to bother Nico with. “You kids have fun!”

Nico finds Poppy waiting by the entrance to Jack’s apartment, hands busying themselves by playing with the rings on her fingers. She looks up as he approaches and smiles, accepting the jacket he hands over to her and immediately shrugs it on.

The jacket is only slightly shorter than her dress, and so her bare legs come straight out from the bottom, but he hopes it’s enough to keep her warm for the time being. It has a fleeced collar, a thick overall lining, and he knows that if she puts her hands in the pockets, the soft sherpa interior will melt her icicle fingers in no time. And if her legs do get cold, he’s almost desperate enough for her approval that he will shuck off his pants and give them straight over to her.

He holds the door open for her, and when they get over to the elevator, he presses the button. They wait side by side in a comfortable silence, arms bumping each other as she sways very slightly on the spot. He tries not to get into his head about how she doesn’t move away. They stand similarly when they get into the elevator - he reaches forward to press the button at the top, and falls back into place beside her, her shoulder brushing his bicep.

“We’re going up?�� She asks. “I didn’t think you could get on your rooftop.”

“They opened it up back in September,” he tells her, “It’s nice, there’s seating and tables up there and everything.”

“Oh wow, you’re gonna get hypothermia.”

“I’ll be alright,” he breathes out a laugh as the doors open, and he gestures for her to step out before him. He buries a hand into his pocket for his keys, pulls them out, and reaches around her to unlock the entrance to the roof - only accessible to a few people in the building if they have paid for the privilege. There’s a single flight of stairs before they make it up there, and they climb them side by side before he pushes the door open. He’s grateful for the lack of wind, tonight, but she’s right. It’s cold. And as much as he’s used to temperatures like this, he’s thankful he had the foresight to prepare for this earlier.

Nico guides Poppy with a hand on her back to the far corner of the rooftop, toward the pergola that surrounds the outdoor seating area.

The city provides a decent glow at this time of night, but the pergola is lit up with ambient lighting strips, and it looks cosy. The couches have plush cushions, and the weather hadn’t been too bad the past couple of days, so it’s all dry.

“Wow,” Poppy steps away from Nico, toward the side, hands reaching out to grasp the railings as she looks over what she can of the edge of the building. There’s a safety perimeter that stops her from being able to see to far if she wants to look down. “This is a lot higher than my roof.”

“It’s a great view, huh?”

“It’s incredible.” Nico had been on her rooftop with Poppy a couple times, and she has a great view, herself, but hers is blocked by some of the taller buildings to either side of hers on the waterfront. “You can see my apartment from here.” She points, and Nico’s eyes follow the direction of her finger. “We’ll have to get binoculars and test if you can see me through all my windows.”

As ridiculous as that suggestion is, Nico’s heart beats erratically at the idea of it. He can picture the scenario in his mind, clear as day. She’d get him to call her to test the theory, ask him if he could see how many fingers she was holding up, and flip him off from the window in her bedroom.

He laughs out loud at the thought.

“Do you come up here a lot?” Poppy burrows into his jacket, stepping away from the side and toward the seats.

“Not really,” he denies. He’d only gotten a key from the building manager today. He’d put in an urgent request after he’d seen Poppy and Nia, and realised Poppy wasn’t going to get to fulfil her New Years tradition. He’d wanted to do something nice, and as he takes in the wonder and amazement she exudes, he’s happy he did. There had been a few scenarios of how he’d get her up here, and he’d actually settled on a plan to give Nia the key and tell her to take Poppy up before midnight, but he much prefers how this is playing out. “Hasn’t been the weather for it.”

“Right,” she sighs, sinking down onto one of the couches, sitting with her knees tucked beneath her and her feet hanging over the edge so her shoes don’t touch the cushions. “Because the weather now is ideal for a rooftop gathering,”

Nico lifts the top of the storage trunk that sits beside the couch, reaches in and retrieves the blankets he’d stashed in there earlier when he’d scoped the place out. He throws one over to her and chuckles at the surprise that spreads across her face when she catches it.

“I take it back,” she bites back a smile as she unravels the blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders and making sure it spreads to cover her legs. Nico waits until he’s sat before he wraps his around himself. He sits beside her, inclining his body towards hers, one leg under himself and elbow leaning on the back of the couch. When he drapes the blanket over himself, he does a quick check to make sure there isn’t any bare skin of Poppy’s he can see that he’d need to extend his cover over. “I never asked about your Christmas.”

Nico thinks that maybe he doesn’t hate small talk as much - talking about anything with Poppy is good enough. “It was pretty boring,” he echoes her earlier sentiment, smiling down at her when she glances over and rolls her eyes.

“C’mon, I know what you European guys are like when you all get together, Holtzy said a few of you were over at Jesper and Nic’s place.”

He lets himself wonder for a second if she’d asked about him, specifically, when she was talking to the other guys about how they spent their holidays. If she had still cared enough to consider where he had spent his Christmas, and wasn’t just asking now to fill in any potentially awkward silence or reroute the conversation from anything else.

“It was good,” he offers, vaguely, “I do think I was bringing the vibe down, though, wasn’t really in the Christmas spirit.”

Christmas at Jesper’s hadn’t been as bad as he’d made it out to be in his head in the build up to the day - he’d had a good time in the end, but he had left just after dinner; told everyone he was still tired and aching from their game the few days before. He’d paid no mind to the pitiful glances cast to him from throughout the group, and he would never in a million years admit to any of them that even in a room full of people that he did genuinely care about and love being around, he couldn’t shake the feeling of loneliness that crept up every time he glanced around and saw his friends all loved up with their partners and having the time of their lives.

He realises that he and Poppy had both been alone on Christmas, and maybe if he hadn’t have been such a royal idiot about things, he could have invited her along and had a chance to truly engage in all the festivities and joy.

“Never had you down as a party pooper, Nico.”

“You sound like Jack.”

“I take great offence to that.”

“I got dumped.” He may as well get this part of conversation over with, he’s going to struggle to skirt around it much longer. He almost expects surprise on her end, shock or disbelief, but Poppy just nods in understanding.

“I heard.” She purses her lips, shuffling until her elbow is against the back of the couch, a mirror of his own position, and she can listen with intent. “I’m sorry, I know how much you liked her. It seemed like you two were perfect for each other.”

Nico can’t hide the frown that takes over. He doesn’t feel like they were perfect for each other. Doesn’t remember trying to make it seem that way, or remember telling anybody in any kind of detail how much he liked being with Talia. He doesn’t quite understand how she had come to that conclusion.

When she takes in his expression, her shoulders tense. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry or anything.”

“No, you’re fine, I don’t mind talking about it.” With you, goes unspoken, but lingers quite obviously between them, he hopes. He nudges her elbow with his, narrowing the space between them in the process. Pry away, he thinks. He’d much rather have Poppy poke around at the inner workings of his brain than anyone else. She’d be able to make much more sense of it. But she needs to do so with the right assumptions. “It’s just that it wasn’t really like that, I don’t think.”

“Oh.” She sounds almost disappointed, he thinks - disheartened, maybe. It almost seems like she wanted them to be good, wanted him to be happy, and seemed unsettled by the idea she had the wrong perception of it all. The idea brings back a constricting feeling in his chest. “Breaking up around Christmas must be like torture, either way,”

“The returns policies aren’t too bad this time of year actually.” He shrugs. He feels like enough air has cleared between them that he can attempt a joke to pick the mood back up. He doesn’t really want to talk at length about his break up - he’s processed it, he thinks, despite the short passing of time since it’s happened. He wants to talk about Nico and Poppy - he’s finally ready to now.

That doesn’t change the swell of pride he feels with the way she looks at him, like she hadn’t expected him to make light of the situation, and doesn’t know whether it’s okay to laugh until his own cheeks dimple and his eyes crinkle with mirth.

She scoffs out a genuine chuckle, and he can no longer feel the cold seeping into his bones; the blanket covering him is just a mere coincidence, it’s the warmth that radiates from Poppy that does the trick.

“That’s bleak,” she shakes her head, biting back a full smile.

“I thought it was funny.”

“You can’t joke your way through heartbreak, Nico, trust me,” She gives a familiar sigh, and he wants to tell her his heart hasn’t been broken, but that’s a partial lie. It just hasn’t been broken for the reason she thinks. “My dad always says that’s like patching up a boat hole with a bandaid.”

“You Americans have such a way with words.” He smiles, fondly. “I think it’s easier to see the situation for what it was now that I’m out of it.”

He notices that pang of disappointment make another quick appearance before she has the chance to check herself. She seems to let his words stew for a second in her brain before forming her next question. “If you aren’t cut up about the breakup, why have you been so down these past couple weeks?”

Nico tries to remember all the times he had seen her in that period. The time she was speaking to Jack in her office, a couple times on the plane to and from away games, he’d maybe caught a couple of glimpses of her around the Prudential Center when she’d been working - but all those times, he had never managed to catch her eye.

Had she been looking out for him, too?

His lips part to form a response, but words fail him for the time being, and all he can do is tilt his head and try to properly decipher that look about her that she reserves just for him.

Poppy’s eyes glow in the subdued light, reflecting the faint beams that line the structure around them, and they narrow only slightly as he stares at her for a prolonged moment.

He’d been a little harsh earlier when she’d tried to measure the scale of his mood - thinking it was only because she was pushed by someone else to do so - and she had said that Jack was worried about him, but maybe she was worried, too.

He doesn’t want to worry her.

He wants to explain things, but a sudden barrage of emotions seems to hit him at the concern etched upon her soft features. Months worth of inner, suppressed turmoil wreaking havoc within him like a tornado of grief, stress and longing. He had maintained an unwavering calm about himself for the last two weeks - or, so he had thought.

Whenever anyone had directly asked about the breakup, he’d given short, unattached answers, never showing his hand, never revealing his true feelings, and now he can feel it all climbing its way out from the depths of his chest. Feelings from before then, even, when he had been struggling in the months leading up to that God-forsaken text from Talia, and he’d had no one to talk to, clawing their way up, scratching his throat and burning the back of his mouth like acid that he needs to spit out before it has the chance to poison him.

He wants to tell her none of it had been purposeful. How he’d slipped straight into routine, at first - pre season had been rough in comparison to his somewhat slack summer training schedule, and he and Poppy never used to hang out much at that point in the season anyway. In the beginning, it hadn’t felt like he was doing anything wrong by not reaching out.

He wants to tell her about the first time he’d seen her after he came back from Switzerland, at the end of summer get together the team had thrown for the whole organisation in the Prudential Lounge, and he’d seen her slink in through the side doors with one of her colleagues from the foundation to sneak some food from the buffet. He remembers the nerves creeping in, and how something had kept him rooted to his side of the room where he would have normally gone straight over to greet her. He’d introduced Talia to the team as his girlfriend that afternoon, and had tried to focus more on making her feel welcome than tracking where Poppy had ended up.

He wants to tell her about the pages he’s formed on his Notes app - wherein sits a bunch of drafted messages to her from the past week. Even stupid stuff that his mind has lingered on - mundane questions he wants to ask in order to catch up with everything in her life. Does she still have a weird food fixation for Caesar salad and French fries? Is she still trying to force herself to like matcha? Is she still thinking about getting a cat? Did her super fix that cracked tile in her bathroom that she keeps cutting her foot open on and complaining about it every time she has to walk more than usual?

He wants to tell her about how he was so focused on being the best player, the best captain, the best teammate, the best boyfriend, that’d he’d forgotten how to be a good friend. He knows that if anyone had no expectations of him to be the best, it would be Poppy, and so the excuse seems a bit pathetic when he reflects on it.

Instead, through a lump in his throat and the welling of tears in his eyes, he tells her, “I’ve missed you,” and hopes it’s enough to answer her question, and for her to understand the insurmountable weight of those 3 words.

Nico anticipates from the quiver of her bottom lip and the rounding of her eyes that she gets it.

Poppy offers him a kindness he knows he doesn’t deserve when she sits up straight and takes the weight off of where she’s leaning on her elbow. She shrugs the blanket from over her shoulders and throws her arms around him - barely giving him a millisecond to even fear a negative reaction.

Her grip around his shoulders is tight, burrowing her face into the crook of his neck, and he tries to match her fervour with his own embrace, arms looping around her ribcage and cradling her back. They both seem to squeeze, his hands stroking soothingly up and down her back, and he’s not sure if the erratic thumping he feels in his chest is his own heartbeat, or that of hers pressed against him.

They stay together like that for a good minute, maybe more, her body relaxing a little more into his until she’s practically in his lap, knees overlapping his.

Nico can’t remember the last time he felt this calm.

It’s only when he hears the hitch in her breath that he pulls away.

He feels like he’s taken a hit to the gut when he gets a good look at her face - eyes glassy with unshed tears, her lips pursed as she bites at the inner corner of them.

“I’m so sorry, Mohn,” he mutters softly, thumb raising to swipe at her cheek when a tear falls free. “Please don’t cry.”

“I don’t understand what happened,” she laments, “You just shut me out. It’s like you went home for the summer and decided you didn’t want to be friends, anymore.”

“That’s not,” he begins to rationalise it before realising he can’t. He barely has an explanation he can voice, not one he has been able to bring himself to understand, yet, anyway. “I wanted to come over and speak to you after like a week of being back, but I just-,” his throat starts to feel tight again, but if he doesn’t get this out now, he might not get it out at all. “Every day that passed that we didn’t talk, that I didn’t reply to your texts or come find you, things just got worse. And then, after a while, no matter how much I needed to reach out, it felt like I’d left it too long.”

He knows it’s a cop out of an answer, and that she deserves more, but she also deserves for him to be at peace with what he wants to say, and he isn’t quite there yet.

“You could have just come to me and told me you were being an idiot.”

“That doesn’t feel like it’s enough.”

“It can be for now.” For now. She gets it. “I missed you too much to hold a grudge.”

“Really?” Nico can’t fully comprehend why she would go easy on him. She’s well within her rights to cause a scene - kick and scream and never speak to him again - but instead, she gives a remorseful shrug, glassy eyes casting down to her lap.

“I don’t want to lose you for the sake of my pride, Nico.” She admits. “And I could have fought harder, too.”

He knows he’s long lost the right to ask such a selfish question of her, but he can’t help himself. “Why didn’t you?”

“You seemed happy.”

The thud of his heartbeat rattling around his brain turns into an incessant ring, like the kind that people use to measure the frequency in which they stop hearing noise. His bones feel like they’re buzzing, and his lungs feel like they’re plummeting somewhat throughout his body, his breath stuttering in his chest.

Maybe this is her way of dishing out some unintentional cruelty - he can’t argue that he doesn’t deserve it - implying she would have, in any way, suffered herself, just because he seemed content in shutting her out. It hurts to acknowledge that he had let her hurt for so long.

“I wasn’t.” He feels slightly better having said that. It almost makes up for what he’d chickened out of saying before, hopefully saying more than the 2 words might suggest.

Maybe if they’d been speaking all along she’d have seen right through him - got a glimpse behind the curtain of the charade he’d been putting on since the summer. Maybe it would have eased the weight of whatever was sitting on his chest for the past 4 months, would have made everything just that little bit easier to have shared his true feelings with someone who had no expectations of him other than to be there.

He has missed having someone he can be honest with. Has missed not having to keep up appearances, or make himself bigger or smaller to fit someone else’s needs.

And when Poppy’s fingers wrap around his, looping through them when they open up at her touch, and the bracelet she wears tickles softly at his own wrist, it washes over him just how much he truly had missed her. He’d said it before, but there aren’t enough ways to to say it and accurately convey the depth in which he feels it. Having her here, now, makes him feel whole in a way he hasn’t for a long time, and he hadn’t realised all the time he’d known her just how much she calms the storm within him.

He pulls her hand back over his shoulder and circles an arm around her waist, tugging her body back into his embrace until she’s cuddled into him and he’s leaning into the back corner of the couch. There’s no point in which she fights the movement into the position, and when his muscles settle into the cushions, she follows suit, her head resting on his chest and her legs thrown over his.

The hold they have on each other now feels a lot more secure, and he manages to wrangle the blankets back over the two of them, covering her legs so they can stay like this for a little longer.

“Thank you for letting me back in.”

“Thank you for coming back to me.”

Neither of them make any effort to move, content in each other’s arms, not caring about the time - even when the distant calls of a countdown stagger in the air, stirring a pulse of anticipation, and muffled cheers erupt from the surrounding buildings, a symphony of joy washing over the city like a tide. Not even when the sky ignites into a breathtaking explosion of colours, the fireworks painting their world in vibrant hues, do they break free from their tranquil embrace.

“Happy new year, Mohn,” he whispers into the crown of her head, placing a soft kiss into her hair.

“Happy new year, Nico.” She whispers back, looking up at him to give him a heart-stopping smile that had his chest aching in an entirely new, almost welcome way.

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

> Chapter Two

#nico hischier imagine #nico hischier #nico hischier x oc #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #anyways listen to the elevator by lizzie mcalpine that is nico and poppy's song I hear it every time I write them looking at each other lma #you might think the ending wraps things up a little quick and you'd be right #rude but right lmao #but like bare with me on it ok x #pretending to be grown but actually never resolving things is these two's bread and butter #I got really in my head about how to end this one cos I had a lot of stuff drafted for this that I've moved to the next chapter #it was getting way too long lmao #but hope you like it anyway #*writing #*oys

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rabbitcruiser · 11 months

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Global Champagne Day

Global Champagne Day is celebrated every year on the fourth Friday in October and this year, it falls on October 27. The beverage is a sparkling wine that originated and is produced in the Champagne wine region of France. Most champagne is produced with Pinot Noir, Pinot Meunier, and Chardonnay grapes; although smaller amounts of Pinot Blanc, Pinot Gris (called Fromenteau in Champagne), Arbane, and Petit Meslier are also used. Traditionally, it is served in a champagne flute, whose characteristics include a long stem with a tall, narrow bowl, thin sides, and an etched bottom. It’s usually reserved for celebrations, especially New Year’s Day, right as the year begins, and the winners of racing competitions tend to spray champagne at each other and the crowd.

History of Global Champagne Day

The oldest recorded sparkling wine is Blanquette de Limoux, which was supposedly invented in 1531 by Benedictine monks in the Abbey of Saint-Hilaire, near Carcassonne. The process was achieved by bottling the wine before the initial fermentation had ended. A hundred years later, an English scientist named Christopher Merret documented the addition of sugar to a finished wine to create a second fermentation. He detailed to the Royal Society what is now called ‘méthode traditionnelle,’ in 1662, but it would not be used for champagne until the 19th century, about 200 years later.

In France, the creation of the first sparkling champagne was accidental. It was called the “Devil’s Wine” because bottles exploded or corks popped as a result of the pressure in the bottle. At the time, the bubbles were considered a fault. The invention of the muselet by Adolphe Jaquesson in 1844 helped prevent the corks from blowing out. Even when it began to be deliberately produced as a sparkling wine, for a very long time champagne was made using the ‘méthode rurale,’ in which the wine was bottled before the initial fermentation had finished.

The production of champagne saw massive growth in the 19th century, from a more regional production of 300,000 bottles a year in 1800 to 20 million bottles by 1850. In that century, champagne was noticeably sweeter than the ones from today. A taste for drier champagnes began when Perrier-Jouët decided not to sweeten his 1846 vintage before exporting it to London. Thus, in 1876, the designation of ‘brut’ champagne was created for the British, to identify the driest champagne, made with less than 0.4 ounces of added sugar per liter.

Global Champagne Day timeline

1531

Oldest Recorded Sparkling Wine

The Blanquette de Limoux is seemingly invented by Benedictine monks in the Abbey of Saint-Hilaire, near Carcassonne.

1662

Christopher Merret Describes the ‘Méthode Traditionnelle’

It is the creation of a second fermentation by adding sugar.

1663

Oldest Written Use of ‘Champagne’

The poet Samuel Butler refers to a “brisk champagne.”

19th Century

The ‘Méthode Traditionnelle’ is Used

About 200 years after it was first documented, sweet champagne becomes the norm for this century.

1844

Invention of the Muselet

Adolphe Jaquesson creates it, and it helps prevent corks from blowing out because of the pressure in champagne bottles.

Global Champagne Day FAQs

What does champagne symbolize?

It is perceived by many as the wine of happiness and celebration of excellence, which presides over all moments of celebration and success. This is why we always drink it to celebrate important things.

Is champagne stronger than beer?

In most cases, yes. A bottle of beer usually has around 4.5% alcohol whereas a bottle of champagne has around 12 to 20% alcohol.

Is champagne the healthiest alcohol?

It contains antioxidants that prevent damage to your blood vessels, reduce bad cholesterol and prevent blood clots; proteins that are beneficial for your short-term memory; fewer calories than both red and white wine, and can lower your risk of contracting diabetes by 13%.

Global Champagne Day Activities

Pop open a bottle: This one is self-explanatory. Gather some friends or family and drink your favorite champagne.

Learn how to open a bottle with a champagne saber: If you’re a big enough enthusiast of champagne, you’ve probably heard of this unusual act. There are specific sabers you can buy that are made for cutting the top of champagne bottles. You need to follow some special instructions, so make sure you know what you’re doing before you try it in front of others.

Visit the Champagne region: The ultimate way to celebrate. You can learn first-hand how champagne is made, visit a palace and a cathedral, and fly over the vineyards on a hot-air balloon.

5 Mind-Blowing Facts About Champagne

Right to the name: It is illegal in most countries to use the word ‘champagne’ to refer to any sparkling wine that doesn’t come from the Champagne region in France.

It was called ‘shampanskoe’ in Russia: This translates to "that, which is of Champagne," only in 2021 did Russia ban the name for imported sparkling wine, but it’s still used today for some brands produced in former Soviet republics.

High velocity: When popped, a champagne cork can reach a velocity of 24.8 miles per hour.

177 feet and nine inches: That is the longest recorded cork flight.

$2.07 million: That is what the most expensive bottle of champagne costs, designed by Alexander Amosu and Swarovski, handcrafted from 18-carat solid gold, and with a deep-cut 19-carat white diamond at its center.

Why We Love Global Champagne Day

It’s a day to share our favorite champagne with others: Usually, people only drink champagne at celebrations, but if you’re a big enthusiast, this day is a good excuse to drink with friends and family. If you own several bottles, you can make a show out of it and have them try different types.

It’s a chance to learn more about champagne: The history and process of making champagne is quite lengthy. There are many books and internet articles, and videos documenting everything very well.

It makes us feel like James Bond: While it’s often said that the Vodka Martini is the secret agent’s favorite drink, he has drunk champagne more often in the films. It shows up over 35 times, and his favorite brand seems to be Bollinger, which is seen in 14 movies.

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patb440 · 2 years

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A Quiet New Year

JANUARY 2, 2023 MONDAY

The last month of the year 2022 gave me a surprising plot twist. Hold on to your seats.

So my sister and and mom went home from abroad to celebrate the holidays with us and more importantly, to attend the wedding of my brother. It is actually a silver wedding anniversary.

It was a beautiful wedding and so emotional. So beautiful that I, who does not believe in weddings, came to finally want it for myself. This feeling made me feel that I deserved to also be loved like that. A lasting, sweet, romantic, love and relationship. This pushed me to think clearly of what I really want.

After the wedding came Christmas celebrations and my family went on a vacation at Playa La Caleta. I am a beach person and the waters recharge me and cleanse me somehow. Mind and body.

At the beach, I swam alone while everyone was resting because the sun is high up. Literally I was the only one in the waters that time. I kept on asking universe to help me make a decision to finally choose me over anything else.

Days after the outing, I messaged Joseph that I wanted to talk. To make it short, I ended our relationship. I do not think he took it so well but it wasn’t that bad either. We both decided to keep it between the two of us and not yet tell the family about it. Maybe we wanted to heal first before we break the news that will break our families heart. Well, it will break my family’s heart and I have no idea how his family will take it. I do not care anymore.

Yes, I do not care anymore. I want to stop thinking of others too much that I neglect what I really want. I am tired to be that person. It is time to change. So I did.

Come new year’s eve, I told my family I wanted to spend it in my own home. They let me. Hours before midnight, I cleansed the whole house with sage and incense. I opened all the lights, doors and windows to tell the universe that I am ready to receive all the abundance and blessings it has for me. Just like my heart, I wanted my home to open.

At the stroke of midnight, January 1st of the new year 2023, I popped a bottle of white sparkling wine, drank it while watching the fireworks thru my window.

I almost cried that night and I was also saying sorry for Joseph that I had to to do this.

It felt really lonely but somehow I also felt the peace that I so long waited. I think I had a glimpse of how my life would be if Zoei will finally be with her mom in the US and no one will be here at home but just me. I somehow enjoyed it.

Joseph was on my mind the whole time thinking how lonely he can also get being away from his family. The next day, I saw his story on FB that he was actually celebrating NYE with his friends. That gave me comfort. It told me that he somehow convinced himself to start moving forward and instead of moping around (like i did haha), he actually celebrated. I was happy seeing that.

In 48 hours, I will be back at work and the world will be as normal again. The difference now is I think I am stronger and I do not give a damn anymore about my fears, worries, doubts, and anxieties. I will stop caring less of what others might think of what I want, and focus more on achieving goals instead.

My heart is so open right now and I know it will not be an overnight thing, but I know that this will lead to a new better, if not, best life for me. One step at a time, Pat. Learn to love yourself and learn to be patient.

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heyiwrotesomethings · 2 years

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She’s the Housekeeper Prt2: Anya’s Reward

Yor Briar/ Forger x She/Her Reader

A/N: Prt1 Prt3 Sorry for the wait, but part two is finally here and part three is already in the works! I hope you all like it! I feel a little iffy about this retelling of episode 5, but ep 6 is going well so far! I am curious to know if you guys mind following the original story so closely or if you would prefer some kind of departure from the original plot. Since this was originally just going to be a oneshot, I’m not sure what people would like to see from this fic. Whatever happens, I’m fairly certain I’ll end this story when season one ends or sooner depending on people’s interest. I’d like to get to Yuri’s episode at the very least, but I know there is a big edition to the family coming up that I want to see and write about 👀. Thanks for reading! Word Count: 2,348

With Anya’s enrollment to Eden nearly secure, everyone was eager to relax. Just one more phone call, and everything would be set in stone.

While Anya colored and watched tv, Loid washed the dishes from lunch. Yor dozed on the couch with her head resting on (Y/n)’s thighs while her partner read a book and ran the fingers of her free hand through Yor’s hair, only stopping long enough to turn the pages before continuing on. The atmosphere was peaceful,

And then the phone rang.

Loid picked up on the second ring, his hands still dripping with water and dish soap as he greeted the caller and listened intently to whoever was on the line.

(Y/n) craned her neck to gauge his reactions and felt hope rise within her when he smiled and his eyes took on an excited gleam. Loid thanked the caller and hung up.

Anya leapt to her feet, “Did I do it, papa?” She asked. Though judging by the look on her face she already knew the answer and squealed happily when Loid picked her up high over his head and smiled proudly at her.

“You did it, Anya!” He declared, swinging the little girl around.

“Congratulations!” (Y/n) clapped quietly, but the combined noise and shift in the energy of the room caused Yor to awaken anyway.

“Congratulations…” Yor slowly sat up and peaked over the couch, rubbing the corner of her eye, “what are we congratulating?”

“Miss Anya is going to Eden, honey.” (Y/n) informed the sleepy woman who immediately perked up.

“Congratulations Miss Anya!”

“Anya is going to school!” The little girl proudly proclaimed. All of her dancing had really paid off!

During their mini celebration, a round of knocks sounded from the door that put everything on pause.

“I thought you said no one was coming today!” (Y/n) hissed quietly. She rolled off of the couch and disappeared down the hall to her and Yor’s room. There wouldn’t be enough time to change into her ‘uniform’ so she would have to hide until whoever the person was left.

“No one was supposed to come,” Loid confirmed, but looking through the peep hole he called back, “It’s alright, it’s my friend Franky. You can come back.”

“Hey! Heard the good news so I thought I’d come by and bring a little something to celebrate with!” Franky greeted Loid with a couple bottles of wine as the door swung open to let him in.

“Thank you, Franky. That’s very kind.” Yor took the bottles from his arms and put them on the table, already itching to pop a bottle open.

“How do you know already?” (Y/n) asked. “We literally got the call only a few minutes ago.”

“Ah, I just have a sixth sense for these kind of things, you know?” Franky laughed. He noticed the warning look Loid gave him and was reminded that (Y/n) and Yor weren’t in the loop. It could be troublesome if they thought Loid was shady for having Franky get him the test answers.

(Y/n) gave him a questioning look, but her eyes happened to flick in Yor’s direction and the third glass of wine she was pouring and she didn’t care anymore.

“Yor, slow down. That’s too much!” She scolded, running past the men and Anya to try to cut her partner off.

Yor saw her coming and already being as drunk as she was, she quickly chugged the rest of the glass. It was like trying to get a piece of plastic away from a cat.

“No more of that.” (Y/n) ordered sternly, poking Yor in the chest.

Yor tried to pout, but quickly fell apart into a giggling mess, bumping her head hard into (Y/n)’s chest.

“You are such a light weight.” She griped, helping Yor down into a chair.

“Did she save any for us?” Franky laughed, plopping into a seat opposite the couple and filling a glass for himself.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I don‘t know what got into her.”

“Anya wants fruit juice!”

“Of course, sweetie. Oh,” Before (Y/n) could get up, Yor wrapped around her like a sloth, “Loid can you do it. I have another child to look after at the moment.”

“Poke, poke, poke.” Yor giggled, pressing her finger against (Y/n)’s cheeks and nose. (Y/n) grabbed her hand and forced it down back into Yor’s lap.

“Right.” Loid retrieved the juice for Anya with an amused smile.

“So Anya, have you told your dad what kind of reward you want for getting into Eden? He’ll buy you anything you want you know.” Franky declared with a troublesome grin.

Anya sat quietly for a minute, swaying her dangling feet to and fro.

“I don’t need papa to buy me anything.” She said, looking down modestly, “I would like to do something though.”

“Sure! Just say the word and your papa will do it!” Franky cheered after taking another swig of wine, Loid gave him a tired glare, but turned to Anya with a reassuring smile.

“Anya wants papa to save her from a castle!” Anya spoke resolutely, pointing to the tv as Bondman was zip-lining into a castle.

“A castle, hm?” (Y/n) gave Loid a look that said, ‘good luck with that, buddy’ and Loid rubbed his forehead.

“That is not a very realistic request, Anya. Isn’t there something else you would rather do?”

“C’mon, it’s more doable than you think,” Franky sat back in his chair, “that castle got remodeled as a theme park. It can be rented out.”

Loid closed his eyes, thinking, then he nodded.

“I need to make a phone call.”

***

“So you can just make a phone call and get a private plane a couple hours later? What kind of psychiatrist are you?” (Y/n) asked as she helped both Anya and Yor with their seatbelts. She thought hiring a private plane was a little too bougie for the man to afford. Especially when his profession apparently included beating the snot out of his patients.

“I have my sources. Here,” Loid attempt to divert (Y/n)’s attention with a glass of wine, “you didn’t get to have any at home.”

“Someone has to keep an eye on her.” She gestured to Yor, but she took the glass anyway, holding it out of reach of Yor’s grabby hands, “actually, maybe a little wouldn’t hurt.”

“Fank you berry mush fur alwaysh looking out fur me, lub youuu.”

“Shhh, Yor, I know— hey! Where did you get that wine bottle?”

While (Y/n) wrestled the bottle away with one hand, not an easy feat, Loid started the plane and took off, Franky and Anya cheered as the plane ascended into the air and found its cruising altitude.

Before long, the castle came into sight, glowing against the darkness of the night sky.

“Looks pretty good, don’t you think?” Franky grinned over his shoulder at Anya.

“Anya is excited!” The little girl’s eyes gleamed while she pressed her face against the glass.

“It is a very pretty sight.” (Y/n) said, peeking out of Anya’s window as well.

“Show prettyyy.” Yor agreed, though her eyes hadn’t left her partner’s body for most of the plane ride and now wasn’t much different.

Loid found a place to land and the Forger’s and Company tumbled out of the plane and into the grand, empty castle.

Franky and Anya ran around for a minute or two before Anya stopped, a small frown on her face.

“What’s wrong, Anya?” Her father asked.

“It doesn’t feel right without servants and enemies. It makes me sad.”

“I know, right? Poor little Princess,” Franky shot Loid a disappointed pout of his own, “papa better step up his game.”

Loid’s eye twitched.

“Where are you going?” (Y/n) asked Loid as Yor clumsily spun her around the ballroom.

“I need to make a phone call.”

***

“Seriously, what is your deal? How did you get all these people so fast?” (Y/n) inquired. The ballroom had transformed into a lively party before her very eyes. She didn’t care what unorthodox practices he held, there was no way he was making this kind of money as a psychiatrist.

Loid opened his mouth to craft a flawless lie, but it was unneeded as (Y/n) had to stop Yor from disappearing into the crowd of spies turned party goers. Loid was actually thankful for the distractions a drunk Yor provided. (Y/n) was too observant and curious for her own good.

He took the stage as Franky dictated and sent out his message to the crowd before handing the reins back to the informant who began a flawless theatrical performance and set the scene.

“Here is our star, Princess Anya!”

“And here is the spy who is going to save me, Loidman!” Anya beamed, directing the spotlight onto Loid.

“And our villain Count Scruffy!” She continued, the light fell back on Franky who rubbed his hands together dastardly.

“And mahh, ah, Ms. (Y/n) will be mama’s keeper!”

“Seems a little on the nose, but okay.” (Y/n) mumbled with a mirthful smile and gave a little wave to the crowd as the light fell on her and Yor.

“And mama will be… whatever.” Anya finished, causing Yor’s mouth to fall open in shock.

“I’ll need your help to keep Loidman out of my way subordinates, keep him away as long as you can!” Franky called out with a evil laugh.

He ushered Anya, (Y/n) and Yor into pod attraction that steadily began to raise higher.

“If you want Princess Anya back, come get her! Scruffy scruff scruff!” Franky laughed watching Loid grow smaller and smaller the further away they got from the floor.

“Good luck!” (Y/n) chuckled at Loid’s face. He looked a little out of his depth.

Before long, a breeze wafted around them and they were outside. (Y/n) and Yor watched on with varied degrees of amusement as a short quiz ensued, leading to Loid having to put on a Bondman costume. It was nothing extreme, but watching Loid blush before putting that cheap mask over his eyes made (Y/n) laugh.

Then the action really kicked off.

“This is like, the production value of a blockbuster movie.” (Y/n) commented, watching Loid fight henchman and dodge the giant balls being shot at him. “Wow, he can really move.”

“And so can we!” Franky said with another evil laugh, making the balloon pod rise above the tower.

“Save me, Loidman!” Anya called out as the balloon ascended.

Loid scaled the steps of the tower with impressive form and dexterity, but when before he reached the top, Franky was off again. Loid leapt from the castle tower and zip-lined to the end of the line of Count Scruffy and his crew.

“I’m surprised you made it this far Loidman, but I won’t give you the Princess!”

“Save me, Loidman!” Anya called out again. She was having the time of her life.

“Hand over the Princess.” Loid gave the command with a lackluster delivery.

(Y/n) snickered again, covering her face in her hands and for but a moment, let go of Yor’s arm. That would prove to be a grave error on her part. A whoosh of air, and when (Y/n) looked up, Yor was up out of her seat and wobbling down the steps towards Loid.

“The most powerful witch in the world! Free from her keeper’s shackles,” Franky rolled with the change easily, “Go, Yorticia!”

“Oh no.” (Y/n) groaned. Wherever this was going it couldn’t possibly be good. She got to her feet and followed after Yor, but even drunk Yor was faster than her.

“Shit!” She hissed under her breath, quickening her pace as Yor threw a deadly kick at Loid’s head that he barely managed to escape with little more than a scratch. “Yor, that’s enough!”

If Yor heard her lover, she gave no indication, instead charging Loid again.

“Anyone who triiies t’ kinnnap Miss Anya, will not geh away alive!”

Yor then proceeded to beat the absolute stuffing out of Loid. All the while (Y/n) ran to catch up and tried to catch Yor’s attention. If she accidentally killed Loid that would be bad on so many levels!

Then by the grace of god, Yor pivoted harshly on the heel of her shoe, snapping it. The sudden detriment to her balance worked with her drunken state to send her crashing to the ground. (Y/n) only made it just in time to catch her head before it hit against the cobble stone.

“Is she alright?” Loid asked, sounding every bit as winded as he looked.

“Fell asleep. Finally.” (Y/n) breathed a sigh of relief. No one would have to die tonight.

“Scruffy scruffy scruff! And so the witch is back in the hands of the keeper! Good work getting this far, Loidman! But you won’t defeat me s—“

Loid smacked Franky none too gently in the face, sending the informant hurdling to the ground. He walked passed without a second glance and stopped in front of Anya and offered his hand, flushed with embarrassment at having to keep playing along.

“I’m here to rescue you, Princess Anya.” He mumbled.

“Papa!” Anya yelled excitedly, running up to hug him.

There was not a dry eye among his fellow spies as the fireworks were set off, signaling the end of the glorious chase.

(Y/n) watched the father-daughter duo talk from a distance, smiling warmly. They were so sweet! She looked down at Yor, snoring peacefully in her lap and brushed the sleeping woman’s bangs from her eyes before turning her attention back to the fireworks lighting up the sky.

(Y/n) sighed, she sure hoped Loid was strong, because she would need help carrying Yor into the plane. She was almost pure muscle. She heard Yor whine after a particularly loud boom, no doubt her head was already starting to ache. (Y/n) pressed her hands over Yor’s ears, doing her best to muffle the fireworks.

Yor snuggled closer and her hand came up to rest against one of (Y/n)’s, a peaceful smile appeared on her flushed face and (Y/n)’s eyes softened in return.

What a night it had been.

#spy family x reader #spy x family x reader #yor x reader #yor briar x reader #yor forger x reader #yor briar #yor forger

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xcrystalzero · 3 years

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finals never end

summary: as finals approach, i would like to imagine that there is something more to college than studying alone in a box for 14 hours a day. so, here's a modern au of the genshin boys as college students.

Characters included: Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Xiao, Zhongli

Diluc:

- Who are we kidding, this bitch is a legacy at some pricy Ivy League. Hates when people bring it up though since he just wants to be his own person and not rely on his family name to get through things.

- Majors in business because of course he does. Rushed a business frat because it seemed like a good idea. Didn't get a bid and has since boycotted greek life.

- Eventually people find out who his father is and he starts to get bombarded by people who just basically want to use him for networking. Gets approached by girls (and sometime guys) after class like literally every day, asking if he wants to study with them sometime or just "hang out" both because he's hot and because he's rich. He never gives them the time of day but that never stops them.

- Goes to the same school as Kaeya but ignores him every time he tries to talk to him or just come back into his life. Kaeya usually takes it in stride but every else is super confused about how the two of them actually know each other.

- Walks you home from class when it starts to get darker earlier, apparently only because he doesn't have anything better to do. A gentleman through and through.

"Don't you have a meeting right now?"

"You staying safe is more important right now. They'll understand."

Kaeya:

- You know that one guy who is always out partying and who you never see studying but somehow makes the Dean's List every single semester without fail? Yeah, that's Kaeya.

- He's probably like an engineering or hard science major too and all his friends are absolutely pissed when he fucks up the curve every single time.

"You got a 98 on the orgo final???" "What, like it's hard?"

- Not as much of a hoe as everyone thinks he is. He definitely has his fun but he's not that guy who has slept his way through his entire major.

- Surprisingly enough, he's not actually in a frat, he just always knows where all the parties are. He's that guy with a snap score in the millions because everyone and their cousin hits him up every Friday night to ask where the parties are at.

-Generally seen as a really easy person to talk too. Also really good at seeming open with people without actually ever opening up and sharing anything about himself.

- With his very few close friends however, he has some strange hobbies that he's always happy to have someone to share with.

-Will take you on a picnic date about a mile off campus where you guys each way too much cheese and crackers, drink about a bottle of wine each, and watch the stars come out as the sun sets. Give the boy some love. That's all he really wants.

Venti:

-Your local friendly performing arts major who you never find without a huge iced coffee and cuffed jeans.

- He's super involved in a bunch of student organizations from improv to a few music clubs and the like. He's that person that everyone in his major knows and comes to for recommendations about new things that they should try out.

- He's in a band! They play indie songs at rotating bars every Tuesday and Thursday night and go to conferences once a semester for aspiring artists. Also sometimes will randomly perform on the Quad and serenade the random people passing by just trying to get to class.

-Offers to play at an event a club you're in is hosting as long as there's free snacks.

- Kind of an alcoholic? Not a partier in the traditional sense, but at least twice a week, he'll host a hangout where he and anyone who decides to show up get wine drunk and watch a shit ton of Gilmore Girls. BYOB of course because there's no way he could afford it on his own. Has shown up to class still drunk before but he's cute so everyone forgives him.

- Impromptu photo shoots all the time with him. Whether its a cute random flower patch, the soft neon signs outside of a boba shop, or graffiti painted onto a building wall, everything is an insta opportunity.

Xiao:

- That mysterious kid sitting in the back of your lecture wearing all black who is both undeniably hot and also exceedingly intimidating.

- Either an animal sciences major because animals are just better than humans, or he's like like history/english and spends a lot of time reading.

- He's that guy who stops communicating after the first day of your group project and you're really worried that they're just not going to finish their work but they end up sending it to you perfectly complete like a week early. Also, will talk/text you one-on-one but dislikes group meetings and group chats.

- He's in a band too! They actually play with Venti and his friends a lot and even though he admires him a lot, he's never gotten around to actually talking to Venti.

- Doesn't let people come over because then his frighteningly large collection of Funko-Pops and anime merch will be revealed.

- Also a dancer! He's not on a team or anything since he had some bad experiences with teams when he was younger, but he heads down to the studio at least 2 times a week just to move and let out some stress. If he offers to teach you sometime, that means he really really likes you.

- Asked if you wanted to go see the Demon Slayer movie with him and then showed up in a black mask and sunglasses because he didn't want anyone to recognize him.

Childe:

- Idk why but he kind of gives off athlete vibes??? Maybe like a basketball player or something?

- A bit of a campus celebrity just in that basically everyone, even if they aren't in the same major or aren't into sports, or just basically have no connection to him, still somehow know about him.

- He's a PR major and that charm is no joke. Some people kind of despise him because of the way he is literally able to effortlessly win over all of the recruiters and just random people he meets. He's extremely well-loved and he knows it.

- He's in a frat but outside of like mandatory events, doesn't spend all that much time with them. When he does party though, he goes hard.

- Doesn't actively flirt with anyone but he's just so charming and amiable that sometimes it comes across that way. Girls are always like "he's so respectful and nice I'm in love with him." He never feels the same way.

- Extremely competitive. Like the most competitive person you have literally ever met. He has to win everything and if he doesn't, he'll just keep trying and trying until he does. Literally the worst person to play beer pong with because he's not letting you go until he wins.

- Asks you to come to his games even though you barely even know the rules. If he does see you in the crowd, he gets way too hyped but plays the best he has all season. Make sure you take the credit for it.

Zhongli:

- That guy in your required philosophy class who argues with the professor. Not in an annoying "I'm smart and want an excuse to mansplain" kind of way though. He's actually just absurdly well-read and wants to discuss things instead of just listening to someone talk.

- People get annoyed with him because he's kind of disrupting class but if you actually listen to what he's saying, his ideas make a lot of sense and are kind of a mind-fuck at times.

- Has an extensive collection of plants at home and somehow manages to keep all of them alive and thriving. Also collects antique tea sets and goes to great lengths to make sure that they are taken care of.

- Probably actually a philosophy or anthropology major. Always has a new book recommendation and he's a darling who actually reads from every genre.

- Spends his free time going to museums in the area or visiting historical landmarks that are close enough to the university. Loves walking everywhere so that he can just take time to enjoy scenery and the like.

- You mention that there's a new exhibit at the local art gallery and he says that he's actually going there that evening if you would like to join him. And I mean, why would you refuse?

A.N. I'm gonna go back to studying now! Hope you enjoyed!

#genshin x reader #childe #genshin impact #xiao #venti #zhongl #kaeya #diluc #childe x reader #venti x reader #zhongli x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader

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itsallyscorner · 4 years

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okay so I love littlemix!reader x Tom holland??? the best pairing ever??? Anyways could you do something based of Holiday, like it’s obviously based off their lovers and maybe his reaction to the song & mv? Pls I’m in love with Baby Mix btw 😌❤️

Glad you’re enjoying the Little Mix member!reader x Tom Holland fics, I’m enjoying them too🥰 Thank you for the support on Baby Mix, btw, I appreciate it! Sorry for taking so long! Much love and happy reading💖

💌.

Holiday

I completely forgot when the girls dropped the video so I’m making up a time. Enjoy:)

Counting down the minutes to midnight, Tom continuously refreshed the YouTube app on your smart tv. The two of your were in his shared home with Harry, Harrison, and Tuwaine. You’ve been staying with the lot since the beginning of quarantine; London’s travel ban prevented you from catching a flight back home to your family, resulting in your boyfriend, Tom, begging you to stay with him and his mates. You didn’t have a problem with it in all honesty, the boys were great and respectful roommates. Though you were the only woman in the house, they provided you with entertainment and respected your alone time. They were a nice group of lads, letting you in on inside jokes and making you feel like you were part of the gang. By now, you probably were part of the gang. Harrison even considered on replacing Tom with you.

“Bubs, the video’s not gonna be up yet.” You glance at the screen that showed the previous videos the band’s channel posted. Tom huffed, nudging your arms apart so he can squeeze through them to lay on your chest. The two of you were currently in his room waiting for the release of Holiday’s music video. Tom had been anticipating the video all day, asking for hints about the music video’s concept and wondering how it looked.

With his body snuggled up against yours, he rested his head on your chest and wrapped his arm around your torso. His other hand reached towards the tv with the remote as he clicked the video for Break Up Song.

“I know it’s not gonna be up yet, but what if they accidentally uploaded it early? I wanna see the video already.” He whined. His fingers began to drum to the beat of Break Up Song on your stomach.

You laughed, fingers carding through his brown curls that have grown for the past months. He hums along to the song while you text the girls. He lets out a chuckle once he sees you on the screen doing the dance that he’s been helping you learn for the video. You had been struggling to get the choreography down and doing the moves on time. Noticing your desperate attempts at the moves, Tom offered to help you. Obviously in the end you perfected the choreography, seeing as it made the video, thanks to Tom.

“You are so cute.” He mused watching you dance around in the video. “Look at you dance, I don’t know what you were so worried about. You look so adorable when you dance and look at your face! Just wanna squish those cheeks together.” He began to tease you. You whine his name out as he reached up to squish your cheeks together with his hand. Your phone began to rang causing him to stop. He glances at the sceeen, “It’s my best friend, lemme answer it.”

“Go ahead.” You giggled handing him your phone. His head remains on your chest as he answers the FaceTime call. Jesy pops up on the screen with a giant smile but it drops once she sees Tom, changing into a playful scowl.

“Hi best friend!” Tom greets her loudly, a playful grin on his face. Jesy rolls her eyes at the boy.

“Hi Tom.” She greeted him sarcastically. “Give the phone to (y/n).”

“She’s right here, see,” Tom moved the phone further away so you were both in the frame. You waved at her, “Jess I miss you!” You cried.

“I miss you too darling—Tom give her the bloody phone!” Jesy scolded him through the phone. He let out a dramatic sigh before handing you your phone and snuggling into your stomach, mumbling something about “not being able to catch a break from the constant bullying of Jesy Nelson.”

“Right just a few minutes left, I’m trying to get the other girls on here.” Jesy explained as she tapped around her phone. Sooner or later. The two of you were joined by Perrie, Jade, and Leigh-Anne.

Perrie let out a squeal as she saw everyone on the screen, “You guys I miss you so much!”

“Didn’t we all see each other just a few weeks ago?” Jade asked sipping on a glass of wine as per usual.

“Yeah, on the set, but it’s a few weeks too long.” You pouted. You noticed that everyone was drinking except for you, “Wait, has everyone got a drink except for me?”

Leigh-Anne’s eyes scanned everyone on the screen, “You are, are you in bed already? It’s so early babe.”

“Leigh-Anne’s it’s literally about to be midnight, it’s late.” Jesy chimes. Jade makes a sound of disagreement, “I mean does time even matter anymore?”

“What day is it anyway? I’ve lost track.” Perrie thought out loud. You moved to get up from the bed but Tom stopped you. “Where are you going?” He whispered.

“I’m getting a drink, I’ll be back.” You patted his cheek before sitting up. He stops you once again and stands from the bed, “I’ll get you one.” He kisses your temple and leaves the room.

“Aww, was that Tom?” Jade asked leaning closer to her camera. You hummed, “Yup, being the amazing boyfriend he is and getting me a drink.”

Perrie smirked at you, “Gosh, there’s that smile again. She’s whipped for ‘im ladies!” The girls began “ooo-ing” like a bunch of elementary school girls. “Guys, stop.” You whine.

“Have you told him the part you wrote was inspired by him?” Leigh-Anne asked, chin in her palm.

“No, I’ll tell him while he’s watching. He’s been so excited the whole day, probably more than me.” You chuckle. As if on cue, Tom comes back in with a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

“Tom’s going to be so nerdy about it, like a cute nerdy, you know what I mean? All mushy gushy. Like how he gets whenever (y/n) kisses his cheeks.” Jesy said as the girls cooed. Tom peeks from beside you.

“Did I hear that correctly? Did Jesy just compliment me?” He asked everyone, looking back at you for confirmation. You shrugged as you looked at Jesy. Jade stifled a laugh at Jesy’s annoyed expression.

“Oh fuck off you div. It’s an observation. You could barely compose yourself whenever you’re around (y/n).” Jesy playfully jabs at him. You adored their friendship, it was like a brother/sister bond. Jesy being the older sibling and Tom being the annoying little brother.

“Jes, leave the poor boy alone, he makes our baby happy.” Perrie defended Tom. Tom smiles thankfully at her, “Thank you Perrie, at least I know some of you like me.”

Tom pops open the champagne and takes one of the glasses to pour the beverage in, “But I’ll take it as a compliment Jes. Cheers to that.” He raises his glass and clinks it with your phone screen. You and the girls continue to talk until midnight. When the video was finally released you all celebrated and took some screenshots of each other to post later.

When your FaceTime call with the girls ended, you turned to Tom, who already had the video up on the screen. He made grabby hands at you and pulled you to sit in between his legs. With his back against the headboard he made sure the two of you were comfy before asking you, “Can I click play now?”

You chuckled at him as his leg bounced, “Yup.” He pressed play, placing the remote down and wrapping his arm around your front to pull you closer to him. The intro to the video starts, the title of the song appearing on the screen in a water type font. Jesy pops up on the screen singing her part, Tom cheers yelling “It’s my best friend!”

Tom hypes each of the girls up while they appear on the screen, cheering their names. When the chorus comes, his brows furrow as he looks down at you. “Wait where are you? Why—why didn’t they show you yet?” He questioned you, visibly upset. You were about to answer but instead pointed to the screen when you realized your part was coming up.

Boy, have I told ya?

You give it to me like no other guy

We got that heat, yeah, like the summer (summer)

And that's why I'm so glad I made you mine

You appeared on the screen, body cladded in a white bikini that had gold straps for both the bra and thong. You bursted out laughing when you saw Tom’s reaction. His eyes look like they were about to bulge out his head while his jaw was slacked.

“Holy...shit.” He mumbled eyes glued to the screen as you sang. The scene was you in that blue hallway type set. You looked at the camera, bedroom eyes fully activated as your back slid down the wall. You felt his grip around you tighten, his breathing getting deeper.

The scene changed to the one with the planets, sculptures, and lounging chairs. You were seen walking towards a Chaise lounge, giving the camera a perfect view of your bum. While you sat sideways on the couch in the video, Tom couldn’t help but think about how gorgeous you looked in the video. You looked like a goddess, confident as you strutted around in that little number of yours in the video.

You turned to look at him once your part was done and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “You know my whole part was about you right?” His head snaps to look at you, “You wrote something about me in a song?”

“Tommy, I always do. Who else would I be singing about?” You asked him amused. He took a second to think before shaking his head, “I thought it was in general, like it was based on how you would feel if you were with someone that made you feel that way.”

You nod at his explanation, “Well yeah, the fans could see it that way. But when I sing it, it’s about you.”

A goofy grin made its way to his face before he giggled, “It’s about me.” He pulled you into a hug from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. He turned back to the tv to see you all dressed as mermaids while you sang your part in the chorus.

“Wait what—you’re mermaids?” The look of confusion appeared on his face again as he tried to figure out the video. He looked at you then back to the screen, repeating the action a few times.

“I never thought I’d say this, but if you were a mermaid, I’d still fuck you.” He confessed with a shrug. You bursted out laughing at his confession, “How do you even fuck a mermaid, Tom?”

His hands gripped your sides, voice going down an octave, “You tell me, (y/n). Get the mermaid tail back and we’ll find out.” You looked at him shocked, “Thomas!”

He laughed dropping the act and went back to watching the music video. “Wait, I’m still cofused. I thought you guys were in space cause of the planets and stuff. Why are you guys also underwater? And mermaids?” You tilted your head trying to come up with an answer for him.

“Um—it’s a spa, on a another planet, which also has an ocean I’m guessing, and that’s why we’re also mermaids?” You explained, also questioning yourself.

“I like the concept, probably the most random video you guys have had, but it’s sick.” He approved of the video with an impressed look on his face. When the video ended, he immediately pressed replay. Though when your part came up this time he let out a “GOD DAMN” before his eyes scanned you up and down. When he finally felt like he’s processed the music video, he let it play in the background and paid attention to you.

He leaned down to kiss your lips sweetly, “Love, that was amazing. I’m proud of you.” He was quick to add on, “And thank you for writing a part of the song about me, I never thought someone would write a song about me, not even a part. But thank you, I love you so much.”

You giggled shoving your face into his neck as you both moved to cuddling. Suddenly you remembered something you and the boys promised to do.

“Tom! We were supposed to watch the video with the other boys! Remember we promised to not watch it without them?” You leaned back to look at Tom who was already shaking his head.

“Oh they’re not allowed to watch the video.” He muttered. Your brows furrow at him. Tom motions to the tv, the part where your bum was facing the camera on the screen.

“Because of that, I don’t need them seeing that, that’s mine.” One of his hands trail down the length of your back to grip your ass. He rolled over so he was on top of you, dipping his head into your neck, his lips ghosted fluttery kisses along your skin. You let out a content sigh, running your hands through his soft hair. When his lips reached your ear, he whispered, “But seriously though, you should think about investing in a mermaid tail.”

#marvel #mcu #avengers #Tom Holland #Tom Holland x reader #Tom Holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland one shot #tom holland drabble #tom holland headcanon #little mix #jesy nelson #jade thirlwall #perrie edwards #leigh anne pinnock #ally’s requests

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

VALERIE - Part V. (Harry Styles)

happy sunday loves!! part 5 is here, buckle up bc we are getting down to business here!! thank you so much for the nice feedbacks, it’s always so moving and inspiring to read your thoughts, so please keep them coming! even if it’s just some gibberish rambling, those are the best haha! now let’s jump right into part 5, we are heading into the christmas mood and im so excited for yall to read this part!! enjoy!

word count: 6.1k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

By the time November nears its end you officially become a couple with Marcus. It happens gradually, two more dates follow your first one, and then on the third one you agree to test the waters of the possibilities between the two of you exclusively.

Marcus is a great guy. He is funny, caring and smart, always listens to you and cares for even the smallest details about you when you’re talking. He is great company and never fails to make you feel appreciated and wanted. Exactly what you’ve been looking for in a guy, Rosa really hit the nail on the head this time.

You easily fall into a habit with him. Fridays are for date nights, sometimes you go for little trips outside the city on Sundays and he never misses a chance to send you flowers throughout the week. He is just the type of guy that’s always there to cheer you up with something whenever the days start to weigh down on your shoulders.

You even have dinner together with Rosa and Steven one Saturday evening, Rosa keeps giving you those ‘I told you so’ eyes whenever Marcus kisses you shortly or places his hand to your waist. You mostly just roll your eyes at her, not wanting to make a big deal out of the two of you, but Rosa knows how long you’ve been trying to find someone.

What’s a surprising turn is that you start seeing Harry more. Intentionally. You have no idea how it happens, but it does and you’re not mad about it. Some days you grab lunch together whenever he is in the neighborhood, some days you go shopping with him when his sister doesn’t have the time. Harry is a problematic shopper, he takes a long time to decide on clothes so usually you are the one that forces him to choose and finish before all shops close.

When he has had a rough week and you happened to call him for whatever reason, the two of you agree to meet up for drinks at his place, then end up playing UNO for hours, slowly emptying out two bottles of wine.

It’s starting to get harder to imagine what it was like when things weren’t like this with him. When you were getting anxiety from just the thought of seeing him or having to talk to him. It’s like the both of you are showing a different version of yourselves to each other and you have to admit you enjoy being friends with him.

He keeps his habit of teasing you and making jokes about you though, but you don’t mind it. He is not doing it in a mean way with the attempt to piss you off, but to make you laugh and start a playful war where you both throw insults at each other until one of you runs out of it and just starts laughing. You feel a kind of dynamic building between you and him that has a way better effect on you than the continuous killing you were doing before.

You can tell Rosa is thankful for the change as well. Whenever she sees you interact with Harry without making a grimace or have that face that screams how badly you want to hit him, she is relieved that she has one less thing to worry about and Valerie will have two amazing godparents who even like each other.

Christmas is always a big parade in your family. Your mom and your aunts always want to celebrate together so in the past few years it has become a tradition to rent a place out that has enough space for the whole extended family and spend three days there from the 23rd to the 25th. This year your dad found a huge cabin in the woods with ten bedrooms and seven bathrooms, just the perfect size for you all. It’s gonna be your parents, Rosa and Steven with Valerie, Aunt Monica, Aunt Teresa with Uncle Andrew, your cousin Etta, her husband Joe and their two kids, your other cousin Lily with her husband Jeremy and their daughter, and lastly you and Harry. Though your mom urged you to invite Marcus along as well, he could join you for longer than a dinner, since he was already set to fly home to his family.

“You sure he can’t stay for at least the first night?” you mom asks on the phone one evening. You’re stirring the sauce in the pan. holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder so you have both of your hands free.

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s fine, he can come for dinner and then leave later.”

“I get it, but it would have been fun if he stayed,” she sighs, clearly disappointed that she couldn’t change what’s already set. If you’re being honest you don’t mind that Marcus is not staying for the night. You haven’t been dating for that long, you feel like it would be a little uncomfortable to have him there the whole time. A dinner is perfectly fine as a starter, since he hasn’t met anyone else from your family other than Rosa and Steven.

“Anyway,” she sighs moving on, “Have you figured it out how you’re gonna get there?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’ll tag along with someone.”

“Well, I think you should ask Harry. Everyone else is pretty packed already. Rosa and Steven won’t have any extra space with Valerie this year.”

You nod, even though she can’t see you. These past years Rosa always offered you a ride for the holidays, but even when they brought her over for just one night their car was jam-packed. No way you’re gonna fit in there so you are left with Harry since Marcus can only come in the afternoon.

“Sure, I’ll ask him.”

You shoot him a text that day and he replies right away that you’re welcomed in his car, though he won’t be able to take you back since he is leaving early in the morning on the 25th since he is flying back to the UK to his family. It’s fine, you think, you’ll just probably just tag along with aunt Monica back to the city, she always gets her a car for these occasions. Though it’s not your ideal option, she is not the best partner for rides, because she is a fan of smoking in the car, but you don’t have much of a choice.

“I’ll call you when I leave, okay?” Marcus tells you on the morning of the 23rd. It’s early, barely seven, but he is up because he needs to work a little today and you are finishing up packing since Harry will be here in an hour to pick you up.

“Sure. Drive safe,” you huff sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at your suitcase that’s still not closed, clothes are sticking out on the side and you’re sure you’ll have to sit on it to pull the zipper.

“See you later,” Marcus says before you end the call.

It’s rather comical how you try to close the suitcase but you only care about the fact that you eventually succeed. Only minutes before eight you are packed and ready so when you get Harry’s text that he is outside you can leave right away.

Seeing you with your big suitcase he hops out of the car and rushes to help you.

“How long are you planning to stay, Y/N?” he chuckles lifting the bag up and you just shrug your shoulders with a smirk. You’ve alway been a heavy packer, no need to try to cover it up.

Harry throws your stuff into the back of the car as you take the passenger seat. His phone is hooked to the car, a playlist of his own playing gently through the speakers and you’re surprised to catch on the Christmas feeling in the songs.

“Are you in the spirit?” you ask when he gets into the car.

“Like to set the mood ahead,” he chuckles starting the car and off you go.

Ridiculous to think about it, but it’s actually the first time you sit in the same car with Harry or see him drive even. The way you two used to be was not quite ideal to have you locked up in such a small place as a car. But now you have nothing against spending the almost hour long drive with him.

“Can you pull out the navigation when I leave the highway? I’m not sure where exactly I need to head,” he asks you, eyes fixed on the road ahead of him and nodding you open the app on your phone so his can keep on playing the music without the voice of the navigation interrupting it.

“Excited to spend your first Christmas with us?” you ask. Though Harry was there at several family events, it’s his first Christmas since becoming Valerie’s godfather.

“I am,” he chuckles, nodding, hands gripping the wheel gently. He is a natural driver, easily working the car, the kind you feel completely safe next to. As Baby It’s Cold Outside comes on a smile stretches across your lips as you start gently bop your head to the song. “I’ve heard crazy stuff about Christmases at your family,” he adds glancing in your way for a second.

“Like what?”

“I remember when Steven told me about his first Christmas with your family. You remember that?”

Searching in your memories you tried to remember when was the first time Rosa brought Steven along. They dated for two years before they got married so it’s been about five years since then, but as you think hard the memory of that specific year pops into your head making you laugh as you nod.

“Oh, yes. The year Aunt Monica almost burned the Airbnb down,” you sigh grinning at the memory. She brought some special kind of cigars that year that were told to be curiosities from somewhere fancy, but they ended up the literal worst quality, flaming bits were falling out them all the time when she would smoke one, almost making the rug catch on fire wherever she went. Best thing is that she was already drunk on the liquor so she didn’t even notice, there was always a person on Aunt Monica duty, following her around, making sure nothing burnt down.

“Steven said he had a moment when he thought about bailing,” Harry tells you and you gasp, because that’s new information.

“Really?”

“Yeah, but like only for a split second after your dad walked in on him naked in the bathroom. That was kind of the last straw. Luckily Rosa could convince him to stay. Guess it all worked out at the end.” Harry smiles as he stares ahead of him.

You can’t imagine a version where Rosa and Steven don’t end up together. They met through a mutual friend not long after Rosa had a nasty breakup with her scumbag ex. Steven was there to put her back together and be her partner as she found herself again. The change and positive impact he had on her could be seen every day and you were so thankful to him for helping your sister find her way out of such a dark place in her life. It didn’t take them too long to start dating and he proposed a little more than a year later. You still remember how Rosa was screaming in the phone when she called you that evening telling you that Steven proposed. They are quite literally a match made in heaven. It’s been your goal in life to find this person in your life though you haven’t had much luck with men so far. Ironically, if you were in a room with every man you were ever involved with in any kind of way, Harry would be the only one you’d want to talk with. If you had to make this exact same choice just months ago you would have chosen to run out screaming.

“Maybe this year it’s your turn to get horrified from us,” you laugh, sinking down a little in your seat as you adjust the seat belt. You’re still quite far away from the cabin, you might as well make yourself comfortable.

“I think there’s not much that I haven’t witnessed yet. I was walked in on at the bathroom once too, but it was your cousin, Etta.”

“When did that happen?” you ask with a heartfelt laugh.

“I think it was last summer at one of your nieces’ birthday party. Luckily everything was already tucked away when she basically barged in.”

“She didn’t miss much,” you tease him with a smirk and your witty comment catches him by surprise.

“Are you saying my dick is not imposing enough to be worthy of peeking?” he asks with raised eyebrows and you’re happy he is driving. His intimidating look would already burn right into your skin by now, but he is forced to watch the road instead.

“I mean, if you want to put it that way…” you continue, but a laugh escapes your lips.

“Take that back, Y/N,” he orders, sneaking a hard look at you before turning back ahead, but you can see the small smile hiding on his lips.

“Or what?”

“Or you might find yourself in a war you don’t want to be involved in,” he warns you, but his words don’t quite have the effect on you he wanted. Because in a heartbeat you find yourself feeling… excited? Thrilled? Even curious about his means behind his words.

“Wouldn’t want to lie, so…” Pretending like you’re sorry you shrug your shoulders as Harry gives you a look that makes your stomach churn. Now either you are gonna have some fun teasing each other or… you just threw yourself into the arms of the Devil himself. Either way, you’re certain Harry won’t leave it in that.

Turning your head to your window you can’t keep your smile contained as you think of the fact that how big of a lie it was. Harry is surely not a guy who should ever worry about any aspect of his manhood. You’re talking from experience.

***

The cabin is absolutely gorgeous, just the perfect place for a cozy family holiday. Hidden from the busy roads with a secure gate and tall trees on both sides, the back of it is facing a majestic view of the valley and the evergreen covered hill in the distance. With an interior straight from the pages of a magazine, you need just a few moments to adjust to your surroundings upon arriving.

“I saved a nice room for you, Harry!” your mother gushes the moment she sees the two of you walk through the front door. You huff in annoyance.

“And what about me?”

Harry chuckles giving you a smug grin. “Guess you’re just second after me.”

“It’s his first Christmas with us, he deserves the better room,” your mom shushes at you, making your eyes roll instantly. It’s still hard to believe Harry has this kind of charm over most people.

After greeting everyone who is already there, your dad, Aunt Teresa and Etta with her family, your mom walks the two of you down one of the hallways that leads to several bedrooms. She stops at the last door with an excited grin on her face as she opens it revealing the bedroom behind it.

You instantly understand why she thought this is the best one. The view is absolutely breathtaking, the gentle noon light is flowing into the room through the floor to ceiling windows, the king sized bed facing them so when you wake up in the morning the first thing you see is the endless sea of evergreens on the side of the hill. Not to mention the room has its own bathroom, not many of the other rooms are blessed with that. There’s a spacious shower that has enough space for at least three people in there and it’s one of those fancy ones that can make you feel like you’re having a shower in the middle of a jungle, mood lights and bluetooth speakers attached to it.

“No fucking way Harry is getting this room!” you gasp as you look around, taking in the luxure your mother is willing to hand over to him.

“Jealous, much?” he smirks, throwing his sports bag to the bed already ruining the neatly made sheets. He does not deserve this.

“Mom!” you huff turning to her, but she has made her mind up already.

“Your room is nice too, don’t worry Honey. Let Harry have this one!”

“I really can’t believe you are taking his side,” you grumble under your breath, folding your arms on your chest as you take one last look at the stunning view.

“Come on, Y/N. He is a guest!”

“He is not! You said it yourself he is family now!” you retort and Harry just laughs behind you, so you shoot him a murderous look over your shoulder, that just fuels his entertainment.

“Don’t be silly. Your room is the second one on the right from here,” she smiles at you. “We are gonna take a walk around once everyone arrives, so get settled by then!” she informs you before walking out.

“Hey,” Harry’s soft voice makes you turn around. “You can have the room if you want.”

Your eyebrows rise at the kind gesture, it’s very not like him, even now in your friendly state, so it’s quite odd that he is willing to switch rooms with you.

“No need,” you shake your head grabbing the handle of your suitcase that you abandoned at the door.

“You sure? It doesn’t matter where I’m sleeping, really.”

“I’m not gonna deal with my mother’s scolding if she finds out I took your room, so you can totally stay.”

Harry chuckles as you head out, but stop at the door to have one last word with him. “Though I might occupy your bathroom, that shower looks nice.”

“All yours,” he grins before you walk out.

***

By 11 am everyone arrives and the once quiet cabin is now buzzing from life, children running around, Valerie’s babbling shoots through the spacious living area where Rosa set her crib up, your mother is already making preparations for dinner while most of the men are circled around the pool table having a beer since no one has to drive for the rest of the day.

“When is Marcus arriving?” Rosa asks, eyes on Valerie who is absolutely destroying something that once were an elephant maybe, but she’s been ruthless with the poor animal, chewing and throwing it around all the time, so it’s not just a grey, fuzzy mess.

“Sometime before dinner. He has some work to finish,” you tell her pulling your legs under yourself on the comfy couch.

“And explain again, why isn’t he staying for the night?” she turns to you with a puzzled look.

“Because he is going home to his family early in the morning tomorrow.”

“Okay, but he could have just left from here, didn’t he?”

“It’s… complicated. It’s better if he just goes back home tonight and then leaves from there in the morning.”

What you leave out of the whole explanation is that you didn’t really invite him to stay the night as well. Sounds horrible and ridiculous but you didn’t think you’d have felt comfortable with him staying. You’ve been dating for only barely more than a month and though things are going well, you felt like starting with just a dinner would be a better idea. Marcus didn’t question why you didn’t offer him to stay, it seemed like he was fine with just coming and then going after dinner.

Does this make you a bad girlfriend? Maybe, but you value your comfort and feelings more than to ruin your favorite holiday with your family.

Just as you mom said, once everyone is settled in their rooms for the upcoming three days, the whole gang dresses up to have a walk around taking the welcoming little path that runs around the cabin and is smooth enough for Valerie’s carriage as well. Your nieces and nephew are quick to surround Harry and nag him to join them at the front, exploring the woods surrounding the path. It seems like he doesn’t mind it and gladly takes part in the adventure, also secretly looking after them so their parents can have a break and enjoy the stroll in hopes the walk tires the kids out enough that they’ll willingly go to bed in the evening instead of whining to stay up late.

You’re walking with Etta next to you as she tells you about Hannah’s latest dance competition when you spot that Harry and Oliver, your nephew, Etta’s other kid are suspiciously whispering around pointing in your direction. At last Olly nods and runs up to you showing a quite thick piece of wood into your hand. You look down at him confused.

“Thank you?” you tell him a little unsure what it’s all about.

“I found it in a bush, I want to take it home. Harry said you’ll keep it for me because you have a good hand for thick and hard sticks.”

You almost choke on your own breath, as Olly just carelessly runs back ahead to join his sister. You immediately look over to Etta in fear that she heard what Harry told Oliver, but luckily she was talking with Joe turning back, not really paying attention to the conversation you just had with her son. If she did, Harry probably wouldn’t live by now.

Speaking of the devil, you look in his way and that annoying, smug grin is right there as he nods in your way saluting before he shows his hands into his pockets and turns back around to catch up with the kids.

That disgusting piece of shit really went into the depth of teaching something secretly dirty to your nephew as a way of payback for your comment in the car earlier. He surely wasn't just joking when he said you’d pay for what you said. And you have a feeling he is just getting started.

***

Aunt Monica is like a legend in your family. She is the oldest between your mom and her sisters, already in her sixties, but in the heart she still feels like she has just turned twenty. She never married, but had several men in her life, love affairs, short flings, but none of them lasted for more than a year.

“Why would I settle when there’s so many fish in the sea?” she once told you, her iconic Chanel sunglasses sat on her nose as she sipped on her martini.

She has worked many jobs throughout her life, she was once a dancer, she waited tables and even worked as a TV host at one point in the ‘80s. She was the true free spirit of the family, her sisters often questioned her sanity, but you think there’s nothing wrong with how she lived her life, enjoying it to the last bit. In the early ‘90s she was seeing a millionaire, probably the only man she would have given her lifestyle up for. Unfortunately, they never married, the man passed away due to his heart problems, however, since he had little to zero family he left basically everything to Aunt Monica. Money, house, cars, business, everything. Being the smart woman that she is, she handed over the business into professional hands but she is still the owner, so the money is still flowing even though she could have lived happily on the money she inherited without ever having to work a day.

She seems a little odd in your family, but she has always been a loving aunt to you, a caring sister and she never fails to take care of her loved ones. She is the one to pay for all these Christmas getaways, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to stay in places this nice.

“What’s all the money for if I don’t spend it on my family?” she always says when someone questions if she is fine with paying for everything. Your mom and Teresa have tried to convince her to let them at least pay for part of it but she wouldn’t even listen to them.

She likes to have her own, sometimes odd ways in life. She definitely has a drinking problem, but not in a dangerous way. You have never seen her completely wasted, she just likes to keep things buzzing and always have a drink on her whenever she needs the extra fun. Because of her past she has the greatest stories about meeting famous people back in the days or how soldiers used to try to win her over when she was just a teenager.

“Oh, those things happened,” your mom told you when one day you questioned if you could believe all the crazy stories Aunt Monica tells you. “She was like… the star of the show. Used to hate living in her shadow, but I can’t blame her for enjoying life and doing the things I was too afraid to do myself.”

Now you’re sitting in the sunroom that faces the amazing view behind the cabin, the Christmas tree is standing tall in the corner, beautifully decorated in white and beige. Valerie is snuggled up to your chest as you gently rub her back and you listen to Aunt Monica tell you about how a literal captain once proposed to her after just three days of knowing each other.

“He was a gentleman, but a beast in the bed, Y/N. I’m telling you, men in uniform are just a different level of satisfaction.”

She sighs deep, taking a sip from her margarita that’s definitely not her first drink, and you just laugh nodding.

“He was begging for me to go to Italy with him.”

“And why didn’t you?”

“Who said I didn’t?” she asks with a pretentious hurt look turning to you and you just laugh. You should have known the story would go this way. “I accepted the offer, only turned down his proposal when we sailed off and then we parted as soon as I stepped onto the land of Italy. Broke his heart into pieces, but I was too busy enjoying the Italian summer.”

Harry comes in and hands you a bottle filled with juice that probably Rosa sent for Valerie.

“Thank you,” you smile at him shortly as you adjust the little girl in your arms and hand her the bottle.

“Young boy, have you ever proposed to someone?” Aunt Monica asks Harry who stops in his way as he was already about to head out, but now he walks back to the sofa where she is sitting.

“No, not yet,” he shakes his head.

“And how do you think you would if the time came?”

You watch Harry think to himself at the odd and quite random question. It’s not really something you would have ever asked him, but now that there’s the chance to hear his answer you are listening curiously.

“Depends on the woman I’m proposing to,” he replies after a few seconds.

“How would you propose to Y/N?”

Your eyes widen as you turn to your aunt with shock all over your face. You definitely didn’t want yourself dragged into this.

“Aunt Monica, that’s--”

“Shush! I’m just asking theoretically. Wanna hear his answer.”

Harry’s eyes wander over to your sitting figure on the sofa as he leans onto the back of the one in front of him. You can feel the heat crawling up on your neck to your cheeks under his burning look and you just know he enjoys how nervous you got from this simple question that wasn’t even asked from you.

Licking his lips he moves his eyes from you over to Aunt Monica who is still waiting for his answer.

“Something romantic, but not too grandiose, I know she doesn’t like being in the center of the attention that much. Maybe…” Tapping on his chin you listen to his words and without even realizing you hold your breath. “Maybe on a hike with a nice view. She would be admiring the view when I get down on one knee and as she turns around I pop the lid on the box.”

What bugs you is that it’s an awfully accurate description of how you’d imagined your proposal. He was right about many aspects, like how you don’t like being in the center of attention. No idea how he nailed so easily, but he did.

Glancing down you pretend to be busy with Valerie who is still peacefully drinking her juice, eyes wandering around the room relentlessly.

“So you really look to satisfy her deepest fantasies, careful about even the smallest details. Women appreciate it,” Aunt Monica nods, completely oblivious to how uncomfortable she just made you feel.

“Thank you, I do like to satisfy women,” Harry cheekily answers with a smirk, eyes locking with yours for a moment as Aunt Monica lets out a laugh at the dirty comment. Before you could bite your tongue a retort slips out of your mouth.

“What a shame you don’t always succeed.”

Harry’s eyes turn from playful to dark pretty quickly and you enjoy the victory over him. Your comment in the car earlier already wounded his manhood, now it’s another stab right into his… crotch. It’s the least he deserves after what he taught poor Olly.

“That I don’t believe. He seems like an absolute pleaser.” Aunt Monica winks in Harry’s way who just smiles at her shyly, but you can tell your comment is still bugging him.

“I think Y/N knows that too herself, am I right?” He tilts his head to the side and you stand your ground with holding his gaze and not looking away.

“Don’t be so sure about that,” you simply say, just when you hear your mom calling out for you. “Would you take her please?” you innocently ask walking up to Harry, holding Valerie out for him. You can tell he is looking for a witty comeback, but he has nothing just yet, so he is stuck with keeping his mouth shut as he takes baby Valerie from you. You gift him with a sweet, but definitely spikey smile before leaving him there with Aunt Monica.

***

Dinner is already almost ready, you’re helping your mom and Aunt Teresa in the kitchen with the finishing touches, Joe and Harry packing out the wine bottles from the rack Jeremy brought them in, the two of them examining the bottles with such professionalism you almost believe they have the slightest idea about what to look for in a good wine.

“Should we open some red or white ones for tonight’s dinner?” Joe asks your mom who is the master chef when it comes to the dinner.

“Red would suit better,” she answers. “Are they sweet?”

“Some, yeah,” Harry nods holding up a bottle and checking the label.

“Great. Monica loves that too,” Teresa chuckles as she adds some salt to the mashed potato.

“And Y/N too,” Harry adds, not even looking up, but he successfully attracts your mom’s attention with his comment.

“She does?” Harry looks up and sees your boiling anger plastered all over your face, so of course he chooses to take it further.

“Oh, yeah. She can drink like a gallon. Wine drunk Y/N is like a whole different person.”

“I told you so many times not to get drunk, Y/N. It’s not too ladylike. When was the last time you saw her drunk?”

“There were plenty of occasions,” Harry exaggerates and you could kill him right there. “Though last time it was the tequila that got her wildin’.”

That damned smirk of his is making your hands curl into fists and for a moment you tell yourself it’s okay to punch him in front of your mother even if she’ll probably disown you for such behavior.

“Y/N! I have told you a million times that you need to know where your limits lie!” she huffs shaking her head at you while you clench your jaw. Back at it with the lessons about getting drunk. She’ll never get over it, not even when you’ll be forty. Why does it matter to her so much? Sometimes she is the one to get you started, but then she gives you the dirtiest looks when you have one too many. She should just get used to it now.

“She surely likes to have fun when she has had a few drinks,” Harry continues smugly. “Remember how much fun you had at Rosa and Steven’s wedding?”

“Oh, God! I remember how drunk you were that evening, I could have killed you!” your mother growls and you roll your eyes at her.

“It wasn’t that bad. There were a lot more people who got way more wasted than me,” you try to defend yourself folding your arms on your chest.

“That doesn’t change that you were too,” she says with a hard look. Great, now she is mad at you for something that happened literally years ago. Kudos to Harry for ruining her mood.

“She wasn’t that bad,” Harry adds and you look in his way with suspicion. “She was a delight when it was time to get her to bed.”

Your mouth almost hangs open, but it seems like you’re the only one understanding what he really meant by that. Luckily, beside you and him, Rosa and Steven are the only people who knows what happened between you and Harry that night, so it’s no surprise no one else catches on the hint.

“You were the one who took her up to her room? Sorry if she was a burden,” your mother sighs and right at that moment you wish the floor would just open up and you could disappear forever. Harry’s satisfied grin is the evidence that he just won another round of this nasty war.

Just as you open your mouth to try and move the conversation to another field you see a pair of headlights pull up to the driveway. Everyone turns to the window as Marcus’ car parks down last in the line. As you step away from the counter you see the confusion in Harry’s eyes about the new guest.

“Oh, amazing! He is here!” your mom cheers, seemingly instantly forgetting about how she was dragging you just a minute ago.

“Who’s here?” you hear Harry ask, but you’re already out of there, heading to the front door to greet Marcus.

Just as you walk out into the cold evening air you see him get out with a warm smile on his lips. You wait for him at the door, arms wrapped around yourself and as he reaches you he places a soft kiss to your lips.

“Hey, how was the drive?” you ask him.

“It was fine. I didn’t arrive too late, right?”

“No, we were just about to set the table. Come on in, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

He takes your hand in his as the two of you walk inside, all eyes immediately turning your way at the arrival of your boyfriend.

“Everyone, I want you all to meet my boyfriend, Marcus. He is staying for dinner.”

Your family members walk up to the two of you, shaking hands and introducing themselves to Marcus who smiles at everyone politely, trying his best to remember all the names and information that’s thrown at him all of a sudden. Everyone seems delighted to have him for dinner, the kids instantly make him promise he’ll play a card game with them after dinner and he happily says yes to the invitation.

You can tell your mom is proud that finally both of her daughters are spending Christmas with a man by their side and you’re almost certain your dad took a liking to Marcus the moment he mentioned he is into fishing.

Everyone seems excited and happy for Marcus, there’s just one face that doesn’t fit in the line of joyful smiles. Harry stands quite far from the two of you and only gets closer when he shakes hands with Marcus. His cocky grin is long gone from his face as he keeps his hard look on your boyfriend who is chatting with everyone. Standing next to Marcus, your hand still holding his, your eyes lock with Harry’s and there’s an unknown, burning feeling in your gut when his hard gaze holds yours. The sudden change and cold act gets you wondering what’s really going on in his mind. He is the first one to look away and you watch him walk into the kitchen and disappear from your sight before you force a smile on your lips and turn back to Marcus.

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novawrights · 4 years

Text

When Home Finds You

Plot- Reader remembers a darker time in her life before coming to Lady Dimitrescu's castle, Lady Dimitrescu shows her the home she's been searching for.

TRIGGER WARNING FOR PAST SELF HARM/DEPRESSION.

I sat in the library looking at the calendar on the wall. You would think a timeless vampire wouldn't need one but from what her daughters said, it was a recent thing when you had arrived a few months ago because they hadn't seen one before. So you took advantage of keeping track of each important date. Birthdays, special things they celebrated or treasured, even your birthday, all written in with flowing cursive writing. But one specific day was just a dot. They all shrugged when they saw it thinking it meant nothing but to you, it meant everything. My thumb subconsciously stroked my upper left thigh where thin scars crisscrossed across the fair skin. Most of my life I have felt alone, an apartment in the States that only held the essentials like clothes; basically a place to eat and sleep while I went to my job as a waitress and came home with no one to tell my day to, gossip with or have girls or friends nights. Early on I drifted apart from friends and the moment my so called accepting family figured out I was were more into women they swiftly and cruelly disowned me. That's when I became best friends with a silver razor blade. Four years of cutting any piece of skin that could be hidden, becoming an expert in covering and tending to wounds, but three years ago, I forced myself to stop. I was then pulled from my thoughts when the big, oak doors opened and revealed Lady Dimitrescu. Or as I somehow got away with calling her, Alcina. Neither of you knew how it started or why she let's it be when the first moment a maid says it, her golden eyes flash with the fury of lightening in a thunderstorm.

"What are you doing in here all by your lonesome?" She asked, voice laced with concern that her eyes mirrored. I shrugged not taking my eyes off the calendar with today's date being the anniversary when you stopped cutting.

"Thinking about how I got here." I murmured. It wasn't a lie. Had I been left to my thoughts any longer I would have eventually made it to the day I showed up on her doorstep soaking wet and damn near hypothermic. She hummed as she sat in the chair next to me and placed a tray with two tea cups on it. Probably the one drink I had ever seen her drink without any blood in it.

"A strange day indeed. My daughter's usually devour any intruders immediately but for some reason they were definitely part of the argument to keep you alive." Her voice smooth with agreement with a hint of a smile and I chuckled in response.

"Oh yeah?" I teased as I looked over in her direction. While she was this tall, incredible and powerful woman, the soft spot she only had for her daughters, now extended to me. She met my gaze, golden irises meeting my steel gray with the softness only so few saw.

"I'm not one to believe in fate. I've lived far too long to really give it credit should anything good, or bad, come my way. But you took that belief and stomped all over it." She sighed as she turned her gaze into the fire I had long forgotten I lit. "Now I know I promised to give you privacy with your thoughts, but something is bothering you enough I can feel the storm cloud from my chambers across the castle." I sighed knowing she wasn't going to let this go. It was weird she had offered me who ended up agreeing to be a maid, privacy. Especially so soon.

"Several years ago things kind of fell apart. Family disowned me and friends drifted apart so I was literally coming home to an empty apartment every day after work." I started as I took the teacup from her hand and took a sip, letting the apple cinnamon flavor warm me. I could feel her eyes fall on me as she mirrored my action with her own tea. "When you get lonely, you don't always have the best coping mechanisms. Mine, was self destructive. Easy to conceal and no one would know since I never wore shorts or went out to the beach or wore dresses when I went to a club." I snorted before taking another sip. "Extremely glad I hadn't known you or the girls then." I added as a whisper as I turned my gaze to her. Her eyes darted across my face as if she was trying find the answer without me saying it. It was only until her eyes widened a moment later that I knew she figured it out. "You would have eaten me alive." She coughed. Not the best time to throw a suggestive joke like that but the line we danced across between attraction and a degree of softness reserved for lovers, was always front and center of my mind.

"We would have." She agreed softly. I looked at the calendar and gestured with my chin.

"That dot next to today's date, is the day I forced myself not to cut myself anymore. The day I threw out my razor blades."

"How long?"

"Three years self harm free." She didn't say anything and I heard the rustle of her white dress as she moved. I felt a twinge of fear squeeze my heart. Would she kick me out? Mock me? Strip me of my clothes and humiliate me that I wasn't strong enough? But to my surprise, a black glove and white sleeve entered my peripheral vision. I looked up and blinked away the tears that I hadn't realize were popping up.

"Come, my dear." She whispered. I wiped my eyes and took her hand as she led me from the library. It didn't take me long to realize she was leading me to her chambers.

"Al..." I murmured. She sent me a small smile as she opened the doors to her room, before leading me to the room where her bath was held. It always reminded me of a in ground pool for how big it was but also since it was indeed, in the ground surrounded by black tile.

"Get in." She gestured. I looked and saw it was already filled, the room smelled of lavender and the water still warm by the steam rising from it. I was thankful she turned away so I could have some modesty left since this was a boundary we hadn't come close to breaching. I stepped into the water and nearly moaned at the warm feel of it on my skin. When I got completely in I sat on the little ledge as she walked towards it.

"Tonight is about you. Because not only am I glad you had some impulse to travel, and travel here of all places and your car to break down in the middle of a storm, I'm also glad you've gotten over whatever life has thrown you. Even if there were a couple roadblocks in the way." I nearly teared up as she knelt on the tile and grabbed a purple bottle. She tapped my head as a non verbal cue to wet my hair, which I complied with, before resurfacing where my head my her hands with shampoo already lathered and ready to be coaxed into my brown hair. My eyes fluttered shut and a moan escaped me as I let myself relax and surrender to her fingers. Even when I felt like it was enough, she kept going.

"Times like this I wish I had my music. Even if you guy don't have electronics, most of my bands do vinyls still so a turntable would work." I sighed.

"I'll see what I can do, my sweet." The pet names were becoming more frequent these days, not that I was complaining. Another tap a few moments later for me to rinse out my hair of the sweet smelling shampoo and I couldn't help but enjoy the domestic intimacy between us. After rinsing my hair and feeling more relaxed than I had that day, I felt like my head was a little clearer and the storm cloud had gone away. She reached around and stroked my cheek.

"Dry off and meet me in my room." She whispered. I blinked as she practically glided out of the room before standing. I took one of the big fluffy towels she used and towel dried my hair as much as I could, and dried my body off. I noticed a pair of my old running shorts and a tank top waiting for me to change into. I ignored the blush creeping up my neck seeing a pair of underwear laying with it.

After changing I walked out of the room to see her in front of her fireplace with a silver goblet with her blood laced wine with another with plain red wine that I liked. I took a seat on the sinfully comfortable, crimson red couch next to her.

"I've felt this draw to you since you arrived. It's why the tasks I gave you kept you closer to me and report to me instead of anyone else. It's why I've done so much more for you as a maid compared to everyone else that has walked through these halls." She started. "If my instincts are correct, you feel the same or follow the same trail of thouught." Lady Alcina, the one who seems impossible to fluster or look unsure, cast this vulnerable air around her; and it surprised me. I swallowed knowing there was no way out of this conversation.

"I-I-I do." I stammered. I looked up at her and met teary eyes filled with love, adoration, compassion and genuine happiness.

"Fate does seem to come into play sometimes." She murmured before she leaned in where her wine red lips met mine. I'm not one to use cheesy movie clichés, but this kiss felt like I was home and complete in a way I thought was just a cruel joke for me. I felt her hand softly touch my thigh where the spandex had ridden up and a few scars where revealed. Pale lines that were almost invisible gleamed in the fire light. When she pulled away from the gentle kiss, her eyes flickered toward them, almost as if she knew my panicked trail of thought was going.

"You are so beautiful, my love. No scar, bruise, wound or anything will ever make me think otherwise." She assured me as her thumb caressed them much like mine had done just a while ago.

"But most of all," she continued, "You're home.

With me and my daughters. " I hadn't realized how much her words would mean to me until I felt tears falling in rapid succession that she brushed them away before pulling me towards her chest. There was one thing I had been hoping to find and I found it in the arms of Lady Alcina.

#lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #tw self harm #soft Alcina

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henrycavillobsessed · 4 years

Text

Captivated

Henry x first person reader

Words: 2377

Summary: You and Henry have a “friends with benefits” situation going on, but you’ve caught feelings, and so has he. Everything comes to a head when you see photos of him out with another woman.

CW: Angsty smut! Sex, male and female oral giving and receiving; female ejaculation. Bad language. Anger and slight violence (struggles).

Notes: Hope you all enjoy this smutty, angsty one! I really enjoyed writing it :)

Looking in the mirror, I smiled widely. Damn I look good, I thought to myself. It was Henry’s turn to visit my house, and I knew he’d love the new lingerie set I’d bought that day; a scarlet babydoll with matching lace panties. Pulling on a silk robe and stepping into a pair of black stilettos, I quickly checked my makeup and hair was still perfect and then I left my bedroom. In the kitchen, I pulled out a chilled bottle of white wine from the wine cooler and set it on the table with two glasses, and then lit the scented candles and dimmed the lights. Looking at the clock I saw that I still had half an hour until Henry arrived, so I took a seat on the table and turned on the TV that was mounted on the wall. The showbiz news was on, and funnily enough the newsreader was talking about Henry and his new movie. I smiled to myself. It always amazed me whenever I saw Henry on TV, or in a celebrity magazine, knowing that I was sleeping with him, and had been for the last six months. It had started off as a one-night stand after I met him in a club on a night out in London, and it soon turned to a regular “friends with benefits” situation. The secrecy was what made what was already hot sex even hotter, and we regularly met up, taking it in turns to go to each other’s places for the evening, always leaving in the early hours to avoid the paparazzi. It was a complete no-strings attached arrangement, with both of us knowing it would never go any further, although recently I had started to look forward to our evenings more and more. I suppose you could say I missed him when I wasn’t with him, which was dangerous territory to be in. I needed to keep a check on that. Shaking my head away from these thoughts, I reached for the wine and poured myself a glass, glancing up at the TV.

“… and speaking about Henry Cavill, could there be a new lady in his life? Known as one of Hollywood’s most eligible bachelors, Cavill was spotted today in Kensington enjoying a drink with an unknown, but incredibly pretty, brunette…”

A photo flashed up on the screen, and there he was. Sat at an outside table of a wine bar, holding a large glass of red, Henry’s head was thrown back in laughter. The woman next to him was also laughing, her hand resting on his forearm. They looked incredibly cosy. It was obvious they were on a date.

I felt like someone had literally grabbed my heart and was crushing it. My stomach plummeted, and I went icy cold. I gasped for breath, my hand flying to cover my mouth to try and stop the sob clawing its way up my throat from escaping. Tears sprung to my eyes, spilling over and streaking my mascara. Where was my phone? I grabbed it from the counter, opening Google. Typing his name in the search bar, I cried out as photos of them both popped up immediately, all with speculative captions asking who this mystery woman could be. I threw the phone across the room. My breathing was too fast. Grabbing the wine, I drank the whole glass in one.

“What the fuck!” I whispered to myself. What was this reaction? I knew this would happen one day. He was Henry Cavill for fuck sake, I was lucky to have managed this far having a secret fling with him. Of course he’d end up with someone for real one day, probably an actress or a model, not a nobody like me. But if I knew what was coming, then why did it feel like my heart had been shattered? Why did it feel like I’d just lost him?

“Fuck!” I said again, louder this time. I poured myself some more wine, trying to get my bearings and control my breathing. As I was drinking the second glass of wine, slower than the first, I heard a key turn in the front door. Shit. I forgot he had a key. Usually he’d knock and I’d answer the door, giving him his first view of whatever lingerie I’d chosen for that night; he’d barely make it through the door before his mouth was on mine, his sexy muscular arms wrapped around me, a hand reaching down to

Jesus Christ, this was not the time to get horny over memories! What was I going to do? I stood up, wobbling slightly on my heels. I pulled them off, and turned to face the window so he wouldn’t see my tear-stained face when he entered the kitchen.

“Hi! I did knock but you didn’t answer, I hope you didn’t mind me using the key,” I heard him call as he walked down the hallway.

I could smell his aftershave as he came into the room; he smelled absolutely delicious. I hastily wiped the black streaks from my face, using the dark window as mirror, and turned around to face him.

“There you are!” Henry beamed, and then whistled. “Wow. You look breath-taking. But hey, um, before we, erm, begin, I need to talk to you about something…”

Something inside me snapped, anger replacing the devastation I’d felt at seeing those photos. Who the fuck did he think he was? Did he honestly think that I’d still get on my back for him after he’d told me about his new woman?!

“Oh, I know what you’re going to say,” I said, my voice low.

“You do?” Henry looked taken-aback. “But I-“

“I saw the photos, Henry.”

He stilled. I walked slowly towards him, seething.

“How long has this been going on then, huh? Have you only come here to tell me because you knew I’d see the news today?”

I stopped in front of him, wishing I’d kept the heels on. He towered over me, his male scent overpowering my senses.

“Listen, it’s not-“

“It’s not what I think it is? Ha, spare me,” I spat, my voice louder now. The anger was bubbling up to the surface; I couldn’t control it. “What have you come here tonight for, Henry? One last fuck before you move on with your brunette?”

His face clouded over with anger of his own. He stepped closer to me. “Y/N, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

I laughed humourlessly. “Oh I think I do! That’s all I ever was to you, wasn’t I, a hole to fill- literally! – until you found someone better! Well, fuck you, okay! I’m a human being, with feelings! Didn’t you know I’d end up-“

My hand flew up to my mouth again, halting the words before I said something I’d regret. Henry frowned.

“You’d end up what?” he asked. He walked towards me as I shook my head.

He didn’t stop until he’d backed me up against the wall.

“Nothing, just forget it-“

“I asked you a question.” His voice was dangerously quiet.

“I said it was nothing!” I pushed against his chest, trying to get away from him. I’d have had more success pushing against a brick wall, but I didn’t stop.

“Y/N!” he shouted, grabbing the tops of my arms.

“Get off me!”

“Not until you answer me!”

I struggled against him, and he growled, the sound echoing in my sex which traitorously clenched in response. He was all male, and I was completely captivated by him.

“For fuck- I love you Henry, okay? I love you don’t you see that?” I angrily wiped the fresh tears from my face. Henry let go of me, finally, and stared at me, an indiscernible look in his eyes.

And then his mouth was on mine, our lips crushing together. One of his hands grabbed the back of my head, and mine wound up behind his neck. His other arm was around me, holding me tight against him as we made out passionately. He growled again, and I could feel his erection straining against his jeans. He picked me up one handed and kicked the door behind him; we fell into the living room. He threw me down onto the sofa, and pulled off his t-shirt, his perfectly sculpted chest and abs coming into view. I was panting, and so fucking wet; my legs clenched together for some relief as he ripped off his shoes and scrambled to take off his jeans and boxers. He impressive cock sprung free as he stood there naked, eyeing me up like a lion does his prey. Then he bent down and threw open my robe, his breath hissing as he saw what I was wearing. He stretched his body out over mine, and kissed me again, hard, and then moved to my neck, biting down. I cried out, raking my nails down his back; I was sure I drew blood. He moved further down my body, taking one of my nipples in his mouth and rolling it around with his tongue. I arched up, the onslaught of pleasure taking over. I was desperate for him to touch me elsewhere, my pussy pulsing with need. After giving attention to my other breast, he moved down, looking me dead in the eyes as he tore the delicate lace panties off me with his teeth. And finally, his attention was on my clit, and I nearly came there and then just from the first lick of his tongue. He thrust two fingers into me, and fucked me with them as he ate me, and the first orgasm exploded around him, as I squirted hard, causing him to groan erotically; he licked my juices up, looking up and licking his lips when he was done. I sprung up, twisting him around and down so that he was sitting on the sofa and I took his dick in my mouth, sucking him feverently, licking up and down the velvety warmness, tasting the exquisite salty flavour of him. His threw his head back, a vein popping on his neck. He came quickly, and hard, the onslaught of ejaculate flooding my mouth. I swallowed it down quickly, wiping my mouth. Henry reached out and grabbed me, pulling me down towards him. I knew what he wanted. I mounted him, taking all of him in one, and then I was riding him, hard, his hands grabbing my hips, urging me to go faster, harder. We didn’t speak, our breath coming out in pants and gasps, both of us racing to climax. I screamed as I came again, ferociously, almost painfully, tightening around him, milking him as hot spurts of his cum pumped into me as he roared his release.

As far as last fucks went, it was spectacular. Wait. Last fuck. The argument before came back to me, and I gasped, the pain in my chest returning. I got off of Henry quickly, grabbing my robe and covering myself up again. I could feel tears choking my throat and I did nothing to stop them.

“Y/N, wait, I-“

“I didn’t need your pity, Cavill. That was a mistake.”

“For fuck sake, Y/N!” Henry cried, getting in and stepping into his boxers. “That wasn’t about pity!”

“Then what was it about?”

“I love you too! There, I said it! I fucking love you too, alright!” Henry thrust a hand through his curly hair, pacing around the room. I stood rooted to the stop, speechless.

“But… but what about that woman, your date?” I asked when my voice returned.

“She wasn’t a date! She’s a new director, we met for a drink to talk about a potential project!”

Realisation began to dawn on me. “So when you said you needed to talk to me about something…”

“I wanted to tell you how I felt, how I truly felt about you! Because I saw the paparazzi at lunch, I knew that there would be photos, I knew you’d see them. And then I thought, if it had been the other way around, if you had been seen out with another man and I saw photos of that, I’d be consumed with jealousy. The mere thought of it made me rage.” He stopped pacing and turned to face me.

“I know we have a “friends with benefits” thing going on, but it isn’t enough for me anymore. I love you. I want more. I need more.”

I looked at him incredulously; I can’t believe how wrong I’d gotten it.

“You actually, really love me? Like I love you?” I asked, daring to hope.

“Yes!” Henry laughed. He picked me up, and spun you around. “I really love you!”

We both laughed together. It was like the beginning of the evening hadn’t even happened. When I thought I’d lost him…

“I thought I’d lost you,” I said, voicing my worries. “Not that I was yours to begin with, not really…”

“I think you’ve always been mine Y/N, and I’ve always been yours. I’ve been captivated with you from the moment I first saw you, first kissed you. I couldn’t even look at anyone else. It’s always been you.”

I started crying again, the whirlwind of emotions I’d felt since seeing that news report completely overwhelming me. Henry smiled indulgently, opening his arms.

“Come here, baby.”

I entered his embrace, taking in his scent of expensive aftershave and sex. Being in his arms felt so familiar, like I was always meant to be here.

“What’s going to happen now?” I asked, looking up at him. “Am I going to be seen as the “new lady” in your life?”

He responded by gifting me with the most gentle, loving kiss. “Hell yeah, baby. Now I’ve got you, I’m not letting you go, and I want the whole world to know.”

He kissed me again, and we went upstairs to spend the night as we’d originally intended. But now our true feelings for each other were out in the open, it was like the first time all over again. Plus I didn’t feel like a nobody any more. I was Henry’s, and he was mine. And I couldn’t wait for the whole world to find out.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fan fic #henry cavill fan fiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill obsessed #henrycavillobsessed #henry cavill x (y/n)#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill angst #henry cavill smut #henry cavill angst fan fic #henry cavill smut fan fic

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sukifans · 4 years

Text

IT’S ALL LATIN TO ME

ZUKO X READER COLLEGE!SMAU

⏎ MASTERLIST // part III « IV. seduction siri » part V

SUMMARY: you’re a premed student at BSSU and you thought it’d be a good idea to take a latin class, but you’re in way over your head here. good thing your buddy sokka knows a classics major in your section you can study with.

WARNINGS: language, alcohol/partying

Zuko felt... oddly nervous as he pulled up to her apartment building. He sent the text to let her know he’d arrived and anxiously scrolled through his Spotify, flicking quickly through his various playlists. He knew he was far too concerned about what music to play while she was in the car with him but he wanted to get “the vibe” right, as Sokka would say. That, and it gave him something to focus on that wasn’t panicking over conversation starters in case of an awkward lull. When he saw her coming he leapt out of the driver’s seat.

“Hey, Zuko!” (Y/N) smiled when she saw him and then furrowed her brow when he hurried over to the passenger side. Her face heated when he opened her door. “Oh, my gods. You don’t have to do that,” she said as she slid into her seat.

“It’s polite,” he said simply before shutting the door and walking back to his side. In reality he was already freaking out — had he fucked it up by being weird literally seconds into this?

“Making me feel like a princess or something over here,” she laughed, face still red. He looked over at her and she closed her mouth quickly, remembering he was actually a prince. Like, for real. “Sorry.”

She shook her head with a small smile. “Is this a date, then?” she teased and the tips of his ears went red.

“No,” he said quickly. “No, it just... sounds like you’re dating the wrong kinds of guys.”

“Tell me about it.” She rolled her eyes and slumped down into the seat. “My type seems to be chauvinist douchebag.”

“That’s unfortunate.” He never thought he’d ever wish to be a chauvinist douchebag. Maybe her type also included awkward but well-intended ex-royalty and she just didn’t feel the need to mention it.

“Very,” she said darkly before perking up. “So are you excited for the party?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Me too. I’m really glad you decided to come.”

“Didn’t really have much of a choice since I live with Sokka,” he joked lightly. She shrugged.

“Still, I’ll be happy to see you loosen up a bit. I know I haven’t known you for very long but you always seem so tense.”

“It’ll definitely be interesting,” he deflected deftly. “I have to say, though, that I’m looking forward to seeing for myself what Suki meant when she said you’re an affectionate drunk.” He shot her an amused smirk that made her stomach feel fluttery.

“Spirits, my friends are such gossips! Yes, I get a little more touchy and I like to dance with people and tell everyone how much I love them. But one time I hit the merlot a little too hard and started feeling sexy — as one does after drinking too much wine — and tried to make out with everyone. It only happens when I drink wine, though!”

He laughed at her animated retelling, her wild gesticulations visible out of the corner of his eye. He grinned over at her after he’d pulled into the store parking lot and turned the car off. “I guess I’ll have to be sure to grab a bottle or three, then.”

She laughed, looking away to hide her flushed face. “That’s on you, then. I’ll be your responsibility for the night.”

“It’d be my honor and immense pleasure.” He waggled his eyebrows and she groaned, covering her face with her hands. He was pretty proud of himself for his flirting thus far. He’d discovered he really liked making her blush, watching the pink tinge spread from her cheeks across the bridge of her nose and creep up her temples. He made her go red again when he made purposeful eye contact with her and slipped two bottles of red wine into the cart as they stocked up on liquor.

When they got back to his and Sokka’s apartment, (Y/N) started giggling at the amount of decorations Sokka had put up — the crepe paper and streamers being the least of it. He had even done a few very interpretative portraits of Suki and hung them. She looked up at the ceiling and laughed, elbowing Zuko and nodding up at the balloons.

“I thought they said Suki was blowing the balloons up?” she said. He looked up and frowned.

“Sokka, do you have helium somewhere?” he shouted into the apartment as he unloaded the alcohol. Sokka and Suki popped out of a room.

“Not anymore,” Sokka answered. “Used it all up. Suki had to do the rest.” He pointed at a few balloons scattered on the floor.

“Where the hell did you get it?”

“Found it.”

“Wh-“ she murmured, looking over to Zuko. He just shook his head. Probably better to not ask questions.

“Katara’s on the way with Aang and Toph,” Suki said as she started pulling cups from the cabinet.

“And pizza!” Sokka added. “Don’t worry, she got Hawaiian for you two.” He shuddered, glaring at (Y/N) and Zuko.

“You like Hawaiian too?” She grinned at him and held out her fist. “That’s what’s up.”

He hesitantly tapped his knuckles against hers. The first time Sokka had tried to fist-bump him he’d just grabbed his hand and shook it. Sokka liked to torment him about it often. “It’s about the sweet and salty.”

“It’s fucked up is what it is,” said Sokka. “Fruit doesn’t belong on pizza. And don’t say tomato is a fruit.”

“But it is,” (Y/N) said.

“That’s a moot point.” She and Zuko exchanged looks and he rolled his eyes, making her giggle.

Soon after the other three arrived, with the food of course. Sokka continued to spout slander about Hawaiian pizza until Zuko put him in a headlock while (Y/N) shoved a piece of pineapple into his mouth. He piped down after that while everyone else laughed. Once they’d eaten, they finished the beers they’d been sipping on started to break into the “good shit,” as Toph so eloquently said. She made everyone drinks, pouring with a very heavy hand. It didn’t take long before they all started getting a little tipsy and Sokka started setting up beer pong on the kitchen island, pouring shots in the Solo cups.

“Okay, so,” Sokka started, “Me and Zuko, (Y/N) and Suki, and Toph and Aang. Katara, you ref as usual. The winner of the first round plays us.”

Suki and Katara shared a look. “Don’t you want to be on my team, and (Y/N) can be with Zuko?” Suki asked.

“Sorry, babe, but Zuko’s the best shot pong player here and I’m not losing.” He linked his arm with Zuko’s.

“Don’t worry, Suki; Sokka doesn’t know that I’m actually the best ‘shot pong’ player here because he’s never played against me,” (Y/N) said, resting her hand on Suki’s arm reassuringly. Suki’s concern was more about forcing Zuko and (Y/N) together, but she nodded anyways.

“Yeah?” Zuko smirked. “Is that a challenge?”

“I think it is, Sparky,” Toph said, egging them on. They would just have to push them together from a different angle and obviously Sokka would be no help.

“You’re going down, hotman.” (Y/N) set her drink down, eager at the prospect of some friendly competition.

“Maybe later, princess. I have a tournament to win first,” he said smugly, grinning at the way she went bright red. Her stomach flipped at his words and she couldn’t even think of a witty response. She downed her drink instead, shuddering when the alcohol burned her throat.

“It’s on,” she growled. Zuko had to shake himself to tear his eyes away from the intense look she was giving him – it made him a little scared, but also a little turned on.

It all started off well and good. She and Suki pretty easily beat Toph and Aang. Though Toph was blind, she was definitely the better player of the two. When it came time to play the boys, Zuko watched, mesmerized, as (Y/N) rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck, shooting him a cocky smile.

“Ready to lose?” Sokka taunted, now starting to sway a little bit from the amount he’d indulged while the other game was happening.

“I don’t think that’ll be a concern, babe,” Suki said, looking on with amusement and, strangely, adoration when Sokka belched loudly and started laughing. Zuko chuckled at the look (Y/N) shot him from the other side of the island.

It was a tough game, they would both have to admit. Neither (Y/N) nor Zuko missed a cup at the start, but the alcohol began affecting the game soon after the start. Toph, Aang, and even the “impartial judge” Katara cheered when (Y/N) or Suki were able to sink a ball into a cup and groaned animatedly when Zuko or Sokka did. Eventually, both teams were down to one cup.

“Watch this,” Zuko elbowed Sokka roughly, knocking the other boy onto the floor. Undeterred, Zuko turned around and tossed the ball over his shoulder without looking. It missed tremendously, bouncing off Toph’s forehead. “Sorry, Beifong,” he laughed as she scowled in his direction. With a wink, (Y/N) easily tossed the ball into the boys’ last cup. Everyone cheered as Zuko drank, including Sokka from the floor. Suki hugged (Y/N) tightly, spinning her around as they celebrated their victory.

“Did we win?” Sokka asked, sitting up with great difficulty.

“Not this time, buddy,” said Zuko as he helped his friend stand again.

“You serious?” Sokka gasped and pushed him, causing both of them to stumble. “What the hell?! (Y/N), you’re officially my new shot pong partner from here on out!”

“Maybe. On the other hand, though, if Zuko and I teamed up we’d be unstoppable.”

“I like the sound of that,” Zuko mused and Sokka started babbling about betrayal and the “coup d’état” they were staging against him. Aang, bored of Sokka’s drunken whining, cranked up the music. (Y/N) grabbed Zuko and pulled him into a dance while Suki went to go comfort a pouting Sokka on the couch. She laughed at how stiffly he moved even when drunk, like dancing was a completely foreign concept to him. He just kind of shifted his weight from foot to foot, hardly even in time with the beat of the music. Zuko filled his cup again and hoped it would help unlock some secret rhythm or skills.

“I’m so sorry, Zu!” she giggled as she wobbled, grabbing onto his bicep for support. She’d bumped into the glass he was holding and spilled it everywhere, including across both of their shirts. Sokka looked over and cackled.

“(Y/N) made Zuko wet!” he crowed, making everyone else giggle at the pair.

“Shut up, Sokka!” Zuko laughed, chucking a kitchen towel he’d been using to mop up the mess on the floor. It hit the other boy square in the face, making a wet slapping sound against his skin. The group was nearly in tears at Sokka’s shriek of disgust. (Y/N) leaned heavily against Zuko to keep from toppling over.

“Can I borrow a shirt?” she asked of Sokka once she caught her breath.

“No,” he pouted. “Get one of Sifu Hotman’s shirts. We’re not friends anymore.”

“You are such a drama queen!” She rolled her eyes, still grinning. “You got a shirt I can borrow, Zu?”

“Yeah, sure.” He felt anxiety pulling in his gut as he led her to his bedroom. She followed closely behind, also feeling rather nervous but clutching his arm still as she wobbled. He tossed her an old t-shirt and, to his immense surprise and embarrassment, she’d already stripped off her soiled top when he turned to her. She giggled when his face went red and he quickly turned back around. Mumbling an apology, he started to pull off his own shirt.

(Y/N) stared as the fabric lifted, revealing a massive tattoo across the expanse of his muscular back. It was a beautifully intricate dragon done in red and black ink and its angry eyes seemed to follow her as she swayed on her feet.

“Whoah,” she gasped and stepped forwards.

He was about to ask what was wrong when he felt her fingertips ghost across his skin, making him shiver involuntarily. “I didn’t know you had such a dope tattoo.”

“I didn’t know it mattered,” he said, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of her tracing the lines. It was hard to tell whether it was the alcohol or her gentle touch that was making his head fuzzy and his skin feel hot.

“Of course it matters!” His breath caught in his throat when she slid her hands around to his front and hugged herself to him, resting her cheek against his back. “Tattoos are sexy and cool, and you’re already sexy and cool, so now you’re, like, extra sexy and cool.”

“You- you think that I’m sexy and cool?”

“And warm,” she sighed happily. He turned and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he cautiously settled his hands on her hips. He pressed his forehead against hers in an attempt to bring her face into focus.

“Well... I think you’re sexy and cool.” He hiccuped. “And warm,” he added after a moment of thought. She giggled at the way his alcohol-scented breath tickled her face.

“Hey, c’mere,” she whispered, squishing his face between her palms.

“I’m already here,” he murmured back, pulling her in by her hips anyways so their bodies touched.

“I have to tell you a secret.” He raised his eyebrows expectantly. “I wanna... smooch your face.”

Zuko wrinkled his nose adorably. “‘Smooch?’ You spend too much time with Sokka.”

“Why, you jealous?”

Yes. “Shut up,” he grumbled.

“Make me.”

That means she wants me to kiss her, right? She just said she wants to kiss me and “make me” always means “kiss me” in the romcoms and romance books. But maybe not. “How?”

(Y/N) laughed. “You’re cute when you’re dumb.”

“Hey!”

“What? You are.”

“I’m not dumb!”

“You’re a little dumb. What else do you need, a written invitation? An e-vite maybe? Do you want to RSVP? I’ll need to know if you’re bringing a-“ He cut off her teasing by pressing his lips to hers, squeezing her hips. She responded immediately and enthusiastically, leaning into his chest and threading her fingers through his hair. She hummed contentedly into his mouth when he slipped his hands down to grab her ass. When she pulled back he chased after her lips needily and she chuckled, patting his chest. “We’re taking a long time, they’re gonna get suspicious.”

“So what?” he muttered, pressing a kiss to her jaw instead and trailing more down her neck when she tilted her head to give him easier access. He was feeling awfully emboldened by the kiss and the considerable amount of liquid courage he’d indulged in. “Sokka introduced us with exactly this goal in mind.”

“I don’t know about exactly this goal, but that’s ‘so what.’ I couldn’t stand to see him so pleased with himself.”

He considered this and pulled himself with great effort away from his ministrations at her neck. “You’re right. He’d be unbearable.”

She looked up at him with bright eyes and swollen red lips and he wanted desperately to kiss her again. With a grin, she pulled his t-shirt over her head. He’d completely forgotten how they’d even ended up in his bedroom in the first place. “Put your shirt on and let’s go, hotman. I’m gonna kick your ass at blackjack.” She started to pull him by his hand towards the door but he yanked her back, catching her in his arms she stumbled.

“Don’t think we won’t pick this back up later, princess.” His tone made her gulp, eyes wide. He gave her a wicked grin and led her back out to everyone else as he shrugged on a new shirt.

“Finally! What took so long?” Aang said, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Don’t ask that. I don’t want to hear them talk about making out,” Toph huffed. Both Zuko and (Y/N) blushed in response, looking at the floor. Sokka started cheering and shouting and Katara punched him in the arm to get him to shut up. (Y/N) and Zuko squished in together in the empty spot on the couch as Suki started dealing playing cards. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pretended not to know how to play the game so she could tease him and show him how. They were so engrossed in each other that they missed the satisfied smirks all their friends were shooting each other.

A/N: whenever i add a read more cut on my laptop tumblr freaks out and deletes half the fic so. sorry lmao. anyways this makes me miss drinking with my friends. woulda hugged the homies a little tighter if i knew it was gonna be like this 🥺😪

TAGS: @theblueslytherin @beifongsss @coconutsaiyan @5sos-wdw @silverreading @the-lva-way @cupofnctea @khaleesi-of-assassins @bloomkings @pyromaniac-olive @lil-lex1 @sokkas--boomerang @cece-lives-here @coldlilheart @royahllty @astralsaf @not-a-glad-gladiator @damianwaynerocks @darkskin-buttercup @emogril @plutaars @duh-dobrik @harajukukitsune @kangaroobunny @harmlessoffering @rosetheshapeshifter @past-2am @welovediaaxx @dailytrashypanda @thenutellabreadsticks @sara5208 @whalerus @fanworrior @andrevvminyrd @travvestys @rosesandpines @cipheress-to-k-pop @starryzxko @justab-eautifulmess @mochminnie @whoevenfrickenknows @asianequation @booksandwonderlands @thesstuff @dekumiya @ya-fwiend-rainbow @spookities @394pitterpatterpotter394 @rockinearthbending-marauders @beardsplittler @kurt-nightcrawler @sifucuteness

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