#one thing i love about smoothies

[anna-scribbles]

regained my 12 year old swag(read an entire new percy jackson book in one sitting)

[henry-fox-biggest-stan]

“Omg Edward and Bella are so Odysseus and Penelope coded” that’s how it sounds to me each time anyone compares a mlm ship to achilles and patroklos

[kellystar321]

.

[pea-brained-idiot]

shapeshifter tubbo truthers rise up

[yaoyuandaydream]

i learned passive-aggressiveness from my dad and i'm not proud of it. but lately i've been losing my patience and i think i'm okay with losing, if it means i won't have to second guess my every move. i don't want to play games. i don't want to have to explain myself. i just want to be quiet. to be quiet, and take care of myself. it's just funny how it doesn't seem to be enough now that i've learned it a little too well.

[inkskinned]

probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.

we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."

at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.

the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.

the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.

what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.

here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.

[lorelarc]

Every single day i am overwhelmingly amazed by the effect people with influence have on the general public. Ignoring bad influencers and celebrities, famous people are so intriguing because some random person just decided that they were gonna do something like make music or become an actor or comedian and suddenly thousands or millions of people love them to death and it’s just so incredible to witness especially if you get to follow someone’s journey from virtual anonymity to complete and total stardom. Of course the ones who preach and condone bad behavior are not to be celebrated but they still did something that a good amount of people find interesting enough to care about and keep track of which tends to bamboozle me. Also cancel culture sucks. Yes some people are horrible and deserve no fame or recognition but there are so many people that make mistakes and then learn and grow but they get demonized for the bad thing they did even if it was years in the past and fans and critics alike never let it go. I don’t get it. There’s a difference in holding people accountable and trying to take away every ounce of success they have just because they do something a few people don’t agree with. There is, of course, also a line in the sand. Some things are unforgivable or barely forgivable and I’m not going to include examples, you can form your own opinions on what crosses the line and what doesn’t, but I think it’s worth discussing what those boundaries are and how they might differ in the minds of different people from different upbringings and cultures. Differences of opinion should be celebrated to an extend because our differences are what make us beautiful. That being said, similarities are beautiful too. Ok love y’all <3

[youryanderedaddy]

can you write gentle yandere taking their darling for the first time vs mean sadistic yandere taking them for the first time?

Btw I love ur work 💖💘💗

tw: female reader, non - con, kidnapping, obsessive/possessive behavior, sadism, degradation, slut - shaming

Gentle ~

You know the type of guy I'm talking about. Big and buff, dark - haired, cries a lot. Watches romance movies in his free time and actually calls his mother even outside of the holiday season. Wears slutty little black fitted shirts after working out and brings you smoothies after work. He smiles and blushes. The man is a massive loser with an undying passion for anything nerdy, be it dragons, board games, collecting marks. Who would really expect this poor soul to hurt even a fly?

But he does.

It doesn't happen until months after he's taken you in. Most of the time he's being the perfect gentleman (aside from literally keeping you captive) - he cooks for you, brings you roses and chocolates (even when you throw them away or tear the petals from the flowers), cleans and doesn't make you lift a finger. He reads you poetry until your ears bleed. He tells you he loves you one hundred times a day and seemingly doesn't care about your snorts or the way you roll your eyes and push him away, already so used to your living situation you can't even find it in yourself to be scared. You think he's harmless - as harmless as a lovesick puppy.

But then one night he comes home, an unusual frown on his otherwise soft face. There is a certain type of madness in his hazel eyes. They are still so very soft and adoring, he still sees you as a Goddess in need of worship... but there is also something dark and muddy. Something possessive.

Your captor kisses you on the cheek and that much is granted - he does it every day, along with shouting "Honey, I'm home" at the door. He hugs you - tight. Tighter than ever before, it feels as if the man is trying to crush you in a suffocating embrace, like he wants to swallow you whole within his arms. For the first time you realise just how muscular he is - how much stronger he is. And then he picks you up like a blushing bride and leaves a quick peck on your forehead before taking you to the bedroom and carefully laying you down.

He doesn't give you time to ask questions - as soon as he steps a foot in your shared room, he's already tearing apart his clothes, revealing his ripped form.

"See anything you like, sweetness?" the man asks you, rubbing his hands together as he towers over you, caging you between two beefy arms. You stay silent for a moment, mouth agape at the suddenness of it all - you have never seen him like this. He starts caressing your cheeks and slowly moves down, and that's when it finally settles in your mind. You need to act quickly.

"Stop." you say authoritatively, just like you have done so many times before, praying it would work like it had in the past. But not now. This time he simply shakes his head, a crazed smile playing on his lips as he lowers his head and kisses your neck softly, lovingly. It's terrifying. You're not used to this. You don't know how to react. "Baby, I can't hold it in anymore." Your captor whispers, head resting against your shoulder, voice low and desperate - almost whiny.

"I really tried." he swallows thickly. "I swear. I tried cold showers a-and thinking about bad things but..." he bites his lip, staring at you. You look so small and helpless and, God, he respects you, he really does, but he can't help the way his crotch twitches and his pants tighten as he watches you squirm and tremble, oh-so-small and panicky, defenceless little hands scratching at his arms, but failing to make him budge.

"But every time I come home all pent up and annoyed after dealing with bastards all day, all I want is to bend you over," he continues after moving a lock of your hair out of the way so he can whisper directly into your naked ear. "And fuck-”, he says as he pins your hands to the bed frame, enjoying seeing you wiggle and pant. "The shit-" he can feel your heart beat faster and faster as your whole body gets warmer. It's awfully intimate. "Out of-" he's so excited now that he grabs your hips rather roughly, and ruts against your core, whimpering as his crotch rubs all over your clothed slit. "you".

He growls, now more akin to a lion or a bear than to a human.

He tries to enter you slowly so he wouldn’t hurt you, but the moment your tight velvety walls wrap around his hard throbbing length, he’s reduced to a feral whimpering mess, shoving at you in short sloppy thrusts, completely pussy - drunk. He lasts less than five minutes before he pulls out and cums all over your stomach, watching in fascination as his seed marks you. He slams his lips against yours, swallowing your hushed protests as he murmurs “Mine” over and over again, gripping your hips closer when he feels you pulling away.

Once his brain has cleared enough to be able to think properly he helps you clean up, touching you so gently you wonder if this wild, brutish side he exhibited was all but a dream. But it’s still very much there, barely contained under the surface - and one single moment of freedom and passion is enough to open Pandora's box. 

After that night he feels a lot more comfortable with touching you, for better or worse. 

Mean ~

He doesn’t wait for you to adjust to your ‘new life’ before he basically pounces on you like a predator. To be completely honest, he’s wanted to fuck you within inches of your life since the time he first saw you - the only thing keeping him at bay for a while were the countless pretty pictures he had of you naked and writhing in your own bed in the comfort of your home that all the secret cameras he had installed managed to capture.

Before he used to treat your home footage like his own personal cam - girl show; sometimes he would wait to leave work, jerking all over your face on his screen the moment he gets home. Other times he wasn’t so patient, and he had to sneak off to the restroom any time a thought about you occurred, stroking himself to completion as he blasted his recordings of your quiet moans on his headphones.

But now you’re here in the flesh - the real thing, tied so tight you can’t move an inch, trembling all over just like a bunny caught in a trap by the hunter. He wants you completely immobilised - he’s waited ages for this moment and he wants absolutely no distractions getting in the way of him finally taking his price.

You sob pitifully, your mouth the only part of your body left uncovered, and you try to plead with him desperately. You promise him money, influence, anything he wants - whatever would be able to get you out of this hellish predicament. You even offer to give him a blowjob - which he simply sneers at, grabbing a fistfull of your hair. 

“Oh, doll, the night is still young. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” He looks possessed, ready to feast on your flesh. You shiver, curling into yourself as much as possible - but he pulls your legs on both sides of his thighs, his hands seeming grand across your rickety ankles. “You’ll get your chance to choke on this cock soon enough.” He grabs his bulge crudely, massaging it through his thick stained grey pants. “Right now all I want is to see this cute little pussy stretched on my meat and those pretty tits bouncing in the air as I slap them red.”

It really doesn’t matter if you’re a virgin or not, you’re getting brutalised either way - although his comments would be different.

If you’re a virgin, he’s making sure you get the whole of his length in one - there is something terribly amusing about the toe - curling scream you let out as his cock tears you apart, something borderline pornographic in the way your brows twist and your nostrils flare, lips shut tight as to not give him the pleasure of hearing your pain out loud. But it’s obvious, and he wants you to know that he enjoys it through and through - licking your tears and the sweat off your neck, pinching at your thighs, your breasts, your stomach; whatever makes you cry the most. 

If you’re not a virgin, he still finds a way to get his fun out of you. 

“I don’t feel you clenching on me, you little slut.” He smacks your cheek with little force behind it - it’s not meant to hurt you, but to humiliate you and drive his point across. “Did you have a fucking train ran on you? I should have known you’d be a filthy whore.” He bites at your lower lip, pulling at it until he hears you whine pitifully - leaving his mark on you. “Should’a known with these cocksucking lips of yours, and ngh-” He sinks into you, voice breaking once the tip of his dick brushes against your cervix. “And t-those slutty hips, shit, keep squeezing me just like that, n-ngh, I am going to ruin you all over again!”

He fucks you for who knows how long - when he’s finally satisfied, the sun is already up and you’re drenched in sweat and cum. There isn’t a single part of your body that doesn’t ache.

He leaves you there, snickering at the sight of your empty stare fixed on the ceiling - only reaching to untie you and cuff your ankle to the bed frame instead. You weakly raise an eyebrow in question.

“Stay here until I come back, okay?” He grins with malice, caressing your wet matted hair. “Hah, not that you can really go anywhere.”

[theemporium]

[11.6k] when in desperate need for a date to your friend's wedding, the last person you expected to step up was nico hischier. then again, he didn't step up as much as he was thrown into the mess by jack.

inspired by 'the spanish love deception' by elena armas

.

“Come on!”

“When I said a favour, I didn’t mean this!”

“You said you would do anything!”

“Yeah, like help change a flat tire. You know, the normal things!”

“Do you even know how to change a flat tire?”

“Well…”

“Jack.”

The boy let out a noise mixed between a laugh and an exaggerated groan as he threw his head back. He was just fresh out of the shower after practice, hair still dripping and cheeks flushed red, when you found him by the trainers’ kitchen grabbing a protein shake. 

Your friendship with Jack Hughes was one made through the bond of joining the New Jersey Devils together. He was newly drafted and feeling the pressure of being first pick, whilst you were freshly entering the real world on your own two feet with no real plan in your head. It was by chance that a friend of a friend had managed to pull you a job with the hockey team. And it was by chance you ended up befriending the new hot-shot player in a sport you honestly didn’t know all that much about. 

Still from the first day, after a very awkward meeting on both parts, you and Jack Hughes had been the best of friends—which was exactly why you thought he would help you out on being your plus one to a wedding. 

“I don’t get what the big deal is,” Jack whined, leaning against the counter that displayed all the blenders and ingredients for the players’ protein shakes and smoothies. “Isn’t it your friend’s wedding? Why do you need a plus one, it’s not like you won’t know anyone?” 

“That’s not the point,” you huffed out, feeling like a disgruntled child as you crossed your arms over your chest and resisted the urge to pout. 

Jack raised his brows. “So, what is the point?” 

“I—” You paused, something bitter and nostalgic twisting in your chest before you shook your head. “Can you do it or not? It’s not like you are running off to the Bahamas on your week off. You said yourself that you were free.” 

“The Bahamas sounds better than a wedding in South Carolina,” he grumbled, his lips twitching upwards when you knocked his shoulder with your own. He looked like he was about to say something else before he paused, his eyes brightening. “So, you really need a date to this thing?”

You shot him a look. “Did the last twenty minutes of me begging not give it away?”

His grin widened, something quite unsettling in the smile. “So, you’re desperate?” 

You frowned. “Well, I wouldn’t say desperate—”

“Nico is free this week!” Jack announced loudly, his grin reaching scary levels of taking over his face before his eyes glanced over your head. “Aren’t you, cap?”

Your eyes widened a little as you whirled around, finding the Devils captain standing a few feet away from the two of you. He was dressed similarly to Jack, in a team-branded hoodie and sweatpants, with his wet hair tucked under a beanie. He looked a bit caught off-guard as he glanced between the two of you, though his eyes lingered on Jack.

“Uh, yeah,” he cleared his throat, standing a little taller. “I guess. I didn’t have any plans—”

“Brilliant!” Jack clapped his hands together. “Nico can be your fake boyfriend to your friend’s wedding.”

Your head snapped around to glare at your friend. “I just needed a date—”

“Yeah, your date is your boyfriend,” Jack retorted.

Your glare hardened. “And I asked you—”

“And I’m busy,” Jack said with a shrug, almost as if he was saying ‘what could you do?’. “But Nico is free and you know each other. It should be an easy solution, right?” 

You finally had the courage to face Nico, who looked a bit stunned himself. If it were any other day, you would have laughed at the fact that the captain looked so lost and unsure of himself, so unlike himself. But right now—with the tightening band around your chest that felt like it would crush your ribs—you couldn’t find yourself to even smile.

“You don’t have to,” you said eventually, when you finally found your voice again and your thoughts were coherent. “Jack is just—”

“I’ll do it,” Nico blurted out.

You blinked.

“I mean,” Nico paused, looking a little flustered at his own sudden announcement. “If you need someone, I can help out. I don’t mind, really.” He paused again. “We’re friends, right? This is what friends do.”

“Yeah, friends,” you repeated, clearing your throat a little before giving him a strained smile. 

And just like that, Nico Hischier—captain of the New Jersey Devils—was your wedding date.

…

You decided that after this wedding was over and done, you were going to kill Jack Hughes.

In your mind, Jack would have agreed to help you out with your predicament, you would have gone to the wedding and had a laugh together. This would be one of those memories that you two would joke about for years to come, like when he almost burned down your kitchen making boxed macaroni cheese or when you called him sobbing because of a spider in your bathroom. 

You didn’t think he would throw you under the bus like this.

And maybe that was a bit dramatic, but it felt necessary after Nico left the room with the promise he would message to sort out the details of your plans.

Your issue wasn’t with the fact Jack didn’t want to do it. If that was the case, you would have understood. Your nagging and begging was mostly just a bit of friendly banter, and you thought he was reciprocating. 

He was reciprocating. 

But then, instead of being a normal human and telling you he didn’t want to do it so you could find someone else to help you, he just threw a solution at you. 

An—in the kindest way you could put it—unwanted solution.

It wasn’t that you hated or even disliked Nico Hischier. Not at all. Your relationship with the captain was just…non-existent, in a sense. Very superficial, if you were being honest.

When you were new to the team, you didn’t really talk all that much to any of the players. Jack was the exception, someone who was just as lost as you—though his extroverted personality hid it far better. But weeks passed and slowly you began to see some of the players beyond friendly acquaintances. 

But Nico just…never really left that label. 

It wasn’t like he was rude or mean to you, quite the opposite. Even though he was the captain to only the team, that caring and kind personality extended to everyone who worked for the Devils—you included. 

He was a good guy. He was sweet and thoughtful and loyal and kind. He cared more than any person should. He was the kind of person people write in books and movies. 

And it was intimidating, in a weird way. 

There was no logical explanation for it. But something about Nico Hischier felt too perfect for your shit show of a life. He was confident and put together and everything you weren’t. 

Jack knew that. Jack knew how you felt. Jack had laughed about it more than once before reassuring you that there was more to Nico than you realised. 

You just wish you could’ve discovered that side of him during a team night out rather than at your friend’s wedding out of state. 

And because Nico was the perfect guy, it was no surprise when he messaged you that the two of you could take his car down to Charleston, South Carolina with him taking the first shift. 

“I thought you’d be sick of being on the road,” you said to him as you stood outside your apartment complex, bags in hand as you walked towards where Nico had parked his car. 

“It’s a part of me now,” he joked as he reached for your bags, not giving you a chance to say anything before he placed them in the back with his own. “I go crazy if I’m not locked in a moving vehicle for more than three hours.” 

You snorted, turning your face away so he didn’t catch the way your cheeks burned in embarrassment at the noise. 

“I’ve also never been to Charleston,” Nico continued, shrugging his shoulders. “Thought it would be a nice chance to take it all in if we drive.” 

“I really don’t mind driving the whole way,” you said, chewing on your bottom lip nervously as you eyed his car. “You’re already doing me a favour, the least I could do is—”

“It’s a long drive, I wouldn’t want you getting tired behind the wheel,” Nico said, his brows furrowed together. “It’s fine. I promise.” 

“Okay,” you relented and took your spot in the passenger seat for the first stint of the drive. 

…

It was around two hours in when the small talk shifted into something deeper. 

“So, what’s the deal??”

You glanced over at the boy in the driver seat, your lips still wrapped around the straw of your slushie you bought at the last service station. Nico had gaped at you being able to drink something so sweet and cold so early in the morning, but you just grinned and shrugged. You didn’t get much of a chance to say anything before he was paying for it anyways, along with the coffee he got for himself. 

Sensing your confusion, he continued. 

“With the date,” he said, risking a glance at you before his eyes returned to the road. “You just seemed…”

“Desperate?” You supplied.

His lips twitched. “I was going to say insistent,” he corrected. “But yeah, desperate works too. Is it really such a bad thing if you go to your friend’s wedding alone?” 

“Well,” you started, still hesitant to say your thoughts out loud when you knew it sounded immature. “Not really. Lucy wouldn’t care if I brought a cactus with me, she would just be happy I was there for her big day.”

Nico huffed out a laugh. “So, why am I here instead of a cactus?” 

“I’m not a big fan of pricks,” you joked and, to your credit, he did smile. But the look he shot you told you that deflecting wasn’t going to get you very far. “My ex will be there.”

Nico didn’t say anything for a few moments. “And you’re…still in love with him?”

“What? No!” You quickly shook your head, your face scrunched up in a grimace. “God, no. Not at all. Never again.”

“Oh,” Nico murmured, though there was still a look of confusion on his face. “What’s the big deal if he’s there then?”

“Our breakup was…messy,” you confessed, wincing a little as the memories you tried to block out returned like an unwanted slap to the face. “It was ages ago and I’m over it. But the last time I saw a lot of these people was just before the breakup and I just wasn’t in a good place.” 

Nico didn’t say anything, letting you continue. 

“He cheated on me.” you said eventually because there didn’t seem like much point in beating around the bush, especially when Nico was helping you out despite being thrown into the deep-end unwillingly. “It got messy within the friend group and I ended up moving away after we broke up to get a fresh start. Not just because of him, but it was nice to get away from all the mess and drama.” 

“So you came to New Jersey,” Nico finished. 

“So I came to New Jersey,” you confirmed with a nod.

“And having a boyfriend when you see these people will…” he trailed off, his brows furrowed together once again. It was the same expression you saw on his face during games, when he was trying to work out plays in his head before they happened.

“I was originally planning to come myself,” you admitted to the boy. “But then I was on the phone with Lucy and she kept asking if I’d be okay with everything and I just imagined everyone asking me the same thing and,” you paused and shrugged. “I just ended up blurting out that I was using my plus one.”

When you turned to look at Nico, you were surprised to find a sympathetic smile on the boy’s face. 

“If you showed up alone, nobody would’ve thought you moved on. But if you came with someone, people would believe you were actually okay,” Nico finished for you, and it should have been unsettling how well he understood. But his empathy and insight were one of the many traits that made him captain.

“It sounds stupid but I just wanted to come here and enjoy my friend’s wedding,” you said with a dry laugh. “The pitying looks were bad enough the first time around, I don’t need them again.”

Nico hummed, nodding his head. “So, what’s our story?” 

You turned to him, frowning. “What?”

“Our story,” he repeated, a kind smile on his face that made your chest feel tight. “You know, like how we got together. Surely people will ask, no? We should have a plan.”

Your lips twitched upwards. “Can’t keep away from the strategies, can you?”

Nico laughed, smiling. “Guess you can’t take the captain out of the man or whatever the saying is.”

You snorted, shaking your head before you settled back in your seat. You thought about his point for a few moments, contemplating your options. 

“I don’t think we have to overcomplicate it,” Nico said, interrupting your thoughts. “You have that look on your face that says you’re scheming.”

You raised your brows. “How do you know that?”

“It’s the same look on your face you get when you plan a prank with Jack,” he responded, smiling a little wider at your shocked look. “Neither of you are subtle. Or quiet.”

“I was just trying to think of an interesting story,” you defended, narrowing your eyes at the boy. “We can’t just have a basic co-workers to lovers situation, that’s boring.”

Nico laughed. “Boring?”

“Yeah!” You laughed back. “We have the chance to make up the craziest love story ever, why not take it?” 

Nico shook his head. “What do you suggest then?”

“A puck was flying at your head and I saved you,” you joked. “Full on spidey sense moment, just caught the puck with my bare hands and you were lovestruck after that.”

The full belly laugh Nico let out made your smile widen. “Caught the puck?” 

“Bare hands,” you nodded. 

“I am sure everyone will believe that,” he teased.

“You clearly haven’t seen me in the net,” you mused. “I have insane reflexes.”

“I’ll let the team know the next time we need a goalie,” Nico retorted. 

In the end, you decided to go the ‘boring’ route. It felt safer to stick with almost-truths, it prevented any possible slip up if the two of you were interrogated separately. And, much to your surprise, there was something quite fun about fabricating a fake relationship with the captain you barely knew. 

…

You arrived in Charleston, South Carolina just after seven o’clock.

The address Lucy had given you was for a massive house by the beach she was renting out for the week. It was gorgeous, over three storeys high and looking like it had been plucked straight out of a postcard. The beach house was slightly secluded as well, far enough from the closest neighbours for all the main wedding party to park their cars outside with no bother.

It felt a little surreal. 

You didn’t even get a chance to step out of the car before the front door swung open and Lucy came running out, squealing as she opened her arms and wrapped them around you. Your chest tightened at the closeness, at seeing one of your closest friends in person after so long of being apart. 

“You’re here!” She exclaimed as she pulled back, her bright eyes finding yours with an understanding shining in them. She missed you as much as you missed her.

“And you’re getting married!” You retorted, watching as her grin—somehow—widened. 

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Lucy murmured before she brought you into another hug. And you let yourself sink into the embrace, to forget everything else until your friend let out an intrigued hum. “And I’m guessing this is your plus one?” 

Your eyes widened a little when you remembered Nico standing a few feet behind you and quickly pulled back, glancing back at him before turning to Lucy. Something deep in your stomach twisted at the idea of lying to your friend but there was no going back now. 

“Nico, this is Lucy. Lucy, this is Nico,” you said as you gestured between each other, hesitating for a moment before continuing. “My boyfriend.” 

Lucy’s shock was clear. “Boyfriend? You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend! You just made it seem like your plus one was a friend over the phone!”

You gave her a shaky smile. “Surprise?” 

Nico, seeming to somehow pick up on the way the guilt was starting to take over you, stepped in and offered his hand to your friend. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. And congratulations on the wedding. It’s an honour to be here, even just as a plus one.” 

Lucy’s brows raised in surprise, her eyes briefly finding yours as she shook his hand.. “Wow, you are a…gentleman.” 

“I guess I upgraded,” you joked, wincing a little when you saw her face scrunch up in guilt. 

“Are you sure it’s not weird that he’s here? I know Tom wanted him here but—” But you didn’t give her a chance to continue as you shook her head, reaching out to grab her hand and squeeze softly. 

“It’s fine, Luce, I promise,” you said, though you weren’t totally sure if she believed you or not. In an attempt to solidify your point, you turned back to glance at Nico with a smile. “I’ve moved on. I’m happy. And I want to be here with you to celebrate your wedding. It probably won’t even be that awkward, it’s been years since everything happened.”

Lucy nibbled on her lower lip. “You’re sure?” 

“Positive,” you nodded.

“Okay,” she said before smiling. “Well, I’ll let you two settle into your room. You’re on the top floor but I can get Tom out to help with your bags. Let me go get him!”

You didn’t get a chance to say anything before Lucy ran back inside but you were hit with a sudden realisation that had you turning to face Nico, an apologetic look painted on your face.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” you blurted out, your cheeks warming as he gave you an inquisitive look. “She asked if I only wanted one room and I said yes because I thought I’d be with Jack and it wouldn’t be that bad, but I forgot to tell her it’s changed. We don’t have to stay here! We can get a hotel nearby or—”

“Hey,” Nico stepped forward, his hands placed on your shoulders to ground you for a moment before you started pacing. “Take a deep breath.”

You let out a shaky breath in response. 

“It’s fine,” he told you, and you could hear the sincerity in his voice. “It would have been weird if we were in separate rooms anyways.”

“I can take the floor,” you suggested.

Nico shot you a look. “I’m not letting you do that.”

“But—” 

Nico’s look hardened. 

“Fine. No floor,” you grumbled before you flashed him a sheepish smile. “I really am sorry though. I feel like you have just been thrown into this whole thing and—”

“I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t want to be here,” Nico assured you, squeezing your shoulders before nodding towards the house. “C’mon, we should go inside and freshen up. Then you can tell me everything I need to know, starting with who Tom is and if we like him.”

And that was enough to make you snort, momentarily ignoring the problem of the one bed for now. 

…

You didn’t bump into your ex until later that night.

In retrospect, you should have expected to see him sooner rather than later, but a stupid part of you was still in denial about having to spend the week with him living under the same roof as you. Another part of you was also hoping he just wouldn’t show up, that he would bail on the whole event or maybe even just show up on the day of the wedding. 

But you knew that would have never been the case. Because as close as you were with Lucy was just as close he was to Tom, Lucy’s future husband. In fact, Lucy and Tom had met because of you two, because of the fusion of your friendship groups which now just felt like the biggest joke ever. 

At least someone benefited out of the relationship.

You weren’t even expecting some big confrontation or horrendous outcome when you expected to bump into your ex. You were just expecting to be a little more prepared, to have time to put yourself together. You knew you would see him at dinner that night, that much was inevitable. But you thought you could at least have the upper hand by walking into the room, hand in hand with Nico. 

What you weren’t expecting was to see him for the first time in years when you were waiting by the stairs for Nico (since being the gentleman he was, he had let you go refresh in the bathroom first). 

“Look what the cat dragged in!”

You hated the way your body instantly tensed up at the sound of his voice. You hated the way he was smiling at you like the last time you spoke he hadn’t shattered your whole world. You hated the way you felt so caught off-guard, so unprepared for a meeting you were expecting to have the upper hand in. 

“Jackson,” you managed to grit out as you gave him a strained smile. “Nice to see you again.” Lie. Lie. Lie.

“Yeah, it’s been a while, huh?” He said, so lighthearted and casual and dismissive. 

You had to bite your tongue when the urge to say something a little more snarky came up, but you would hate yourself if you created a scene. You were doing this for Lucy. You were here to celebrate a momentous moment in your friend’s life. You weren’t here to get petty revenge on something that happened years ago—at least not in the form of bitter remarks. 

“A couple of years or so,” you answered with a shrug of your shoulders. 

“I was surprised when Lucy said you were coming,” Jackson told you.

You frowned. “Why would that be a surprise? She’s one of my best friends.”

“Yeah but,” Jackson waved his hand like that explained everything. “You haven’t visited since you left.” 

And the underlying words went unspoken. 

You haven’t visited since everything that happened between us. You haven’t visited since you had your heart broken. You haven’t visited so people just assumed you were still hurt and inconsolable after we broke up. I thought that was why you never came back.

“My job keeps me busy,” you stated simply, swallowing the acidic taste in the back of your throat. “Lucy knows that.” 

Something quite like amusement shone in his eyes. “Ah yeah, Tom mentioned something about you working in some ice rink in New Jersey. That sounds super busy.”

You bit your tongue. He was goading you again. You knew that. But fuck, you just wished you could have—

“I would hardly call The Rock just some ice rink,” a voice spoke from behind you and you turned to find Nico settling into the spot next to you, his face remaining very…neutral. 

Jackson stared at the boy, his lips agape as recognition clearly hit him. He blinked and then turned to you. “You work for the Devils?”

“Last time I checked,” you said, a twinge of satisfaction sparking inside you at his disbelief. 

He puffed his chest out a little. “When Lucy said you were bringing a plus one, I didn’t think she meant a co-worker—”

“She didn’t,” Nico interrupted, a look on his face that reminded you of his post-game interviews after the team lost. Before he continued, he wrapped an arm around your waist, making sure the boy saw the movement. “I’m her boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend,” Jackson repeated. 

“Yes, that is a word Americans still use, no?” Nico retorted. 

“Of course, man,” Jackson said with a laugh, but it felt forced and strained. He tore his eyes away from Nico to look back at you. “Well, I should be heading back. I’ll see you two down there.” 

He didn’t wait before he turned around, heading down the stairs to the dining room where the rest of the wedding party were probably starting their dinner. A few moments passed between the two of you before Nico finally broke the silence. 

“So, that was your ex,” he said.

You snorted before you winced. “I was blinded by young love.”

Nico laughed at that. “I didn’t realise blondes were your type,” he admitted, something different in his voice that he couldn’t quite work out.

You rolled your eyes before you sighed. “They usually aren’t, to be honest. But Jackson was…Jackson.”

Nico seemed oddly pleased with the response. 

“And he’s a hockey fan?” He questioned, his brows furrowing together like Jackson was a rival team’s game strategy he had to study. “He knew who I was.”

A slow grin spread across your face. “His family are from New York.”

Nico raised his brows before he laughed. “Islanders or Rangers?”

“Rangers,” you said with a proud look on your face. 

“That’s why you originally asked Jack,” Nico mused. “You wanted to rub it in that little more.”

“You bet them in the playoffs, I just thought he would like a nice reminder,” you retorted with an innocent look.

He laughed—that full belly laugh once again—before shaking his head in amusement. Before you could say anything more, he was intertwining your hands together and starting to make his way down the stairs Jackson had disappeared down a few minutes ago.

“C’mon, they are probably waiting for us,” he said. 

And honestly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to pull your hand away. 

…

Dinner was uneventful, though you did enjoy watching Jackson bitterly stew from the other side of the table. 

A sense of familiarity and nostalgia washed over you as you sat at the dinner table, enjoying a meal as you laughed and chatted to a group you once saw daily but now hadn’t properly seen in years. It felt so easy to slip into old dynamics, to laugh at old jokes and tease each other as Lucy and Tom were the first to take such a monumental step from the lot of you.

Nico fit in so well, it almost made your chest feel tight if you thought about it too hard. He didn’t seem to mind the countless questions thrown at him about his job and the team. If anything, you thought he was milking his answers a little just to see Jackson squirm—especially when asked about playoffs. 

Eventually the day-long drive finally caught up with the two of you and you wished everyone goodbye before returning to your room on the top floor. Despite trying to play the gentleman card again, you allowed Nico to go to the bathroom first and tried not to stare too hard when he came out in a tight shirt and flannel pyjama bottoms. 

It took an embarrassing few minutes to hype yourself up in the bathroom mirror before you finally headed back to the room, only to pause at the doorway when you saw Nico lying on the ground by the bed with a pillow under his head and blanket over his body.

“What are you doing?”

Nico frowned a little. “Uh, sleeping?” 

“Why are you on the floor?”

His confusion growed. “Because that’s where I’m sleeping?”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor, Nico,” you sighed as you shook your head, walking into the room until you paused by his feet. “You’ll fuck up your back. Let me take the floor.”

Nico smiled softly. “My back will be fine. Take the bed, schatz.” 

You ignored the way the nickname made your stomach flutter. “I’m not the one who needs to stay in good shape for hockey, captain. The fans will murder me if you can’t play because you have a stiff back. Now take the bed.” 

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Would you have made Jack take the bed?”

“Yes,” you answered instantly before wincing. “Well, I probably would have shared the bed with him.”

“You would?”

“Yeah, like a sleepover,” you said with a shrug. 

“Then we can do that.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“We can share the bed like a sleepover,” Nico said as he stood up, failing to hide his groan as he stretched his back (and ignoring your pointed look). “We’re friends, right?”

You swallowed. “Yeah.”

“Then we can share,” Nico said simply. “Either you take the bed alone or we share. It’s your choice.”

“We may be friends but I am also doing this because the fans scare me and I don’t want to know what they would do to be if I broke their captain’s back,” you said with a pointed look before you climbed into the bed, ignoring the way your heart was thumping as he settled on the other side.

Nico huffed out a laugh. “I wouldn’t let them hurt you.”

You rolled onto your side to look at him, your eyes narrowing slightly. “You better not move to the floor when I fall asleep, Hischier.”

Much to his dismay, he blushed at your words. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“I know.”

You let out a sigh, allowing yourself to stare at the boy for a little while longer before you rolled over to fall asleep.

“Thank you for helping me,” you whispered.

Nico’s soft smile returned. “It’s what friends do.”

“Goodnight, Nico.”

“Goodnight, schatz.”

…

It took a solid thirty seconds after you woke up to realise you were practically lying on top of Nico Hischier.

As your body started to wake up, you realised how warm and comfortable you were. You snuggled further into your pillow, into the warmth and hoped your body would just fall asleep for a little longer. 

It took longer than it should have to remember that pillows weren’t warm before you opened your eyes and found yourself settled on Nico, your legs tangled together and one of his arms loosely wrapped around your waist. 

You didn’t give yourself a chance to live out a waking nightmare and risk waiting for him to wake up in the next ten seconds, so you pulled yourself away from him and then hid in the bathroom for fifteen minutes freaking out.

By the time you came out, Nico was awake and sat up against the headboard. His hair was ruffled and dishevelled, his eyes still hooded and a sleepy smile on his lips that made you want to turn on your heels and have another bathroom freakout. 

Instead, you smiled back and told him the two of you had to be outside in the next hour for the brunch Lucy had planned before both wedding parties went off to do their last fittings. 

Thankfully, no more bathroom freakouts were required. 

The brunch Lucy had set up looked like something straight out of a Pinterest aesthetic board. It was set in the house’s back porch with a stunning view of the beach and morning sun beating down on the sea. The table was set with plates of pastries, fruits and other brunch dishes, all topped with the morning mimosas Lucy demanded was a part of the experience.

Nico barely gave you a chance to settle down in your seat before his hand reached for the leg of your chair, dragging you closer to him until his arm could settle along the back of your chair comfortably. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jackson watching the two of you. Nico had noticed too.

If anything, it just made him smirk. 

One by one, everyone had made their way from their rooms to settle down at the brunch table like you all had done the night before. However, unlike yesterday, you noted an empty seat next to Jackon that hadn’t been beside him last night. 

Before you could even ask, a high-pitched voice shrilled from inside.

“I’m here! I’m here! I promise I’m not late.”

You turned to look at Lucy, your eyes widening in response but your friend only mouthed an apology before she turned to the door just in time for a redhead to wander out onto the porch. 

“Bryce! Happy to finally have you here!” 

You watched the two of them hug but your whole body had locked up, an unwanted flurry of memories washing over you. And just like that, it felt like another situation in which you should have been prepared for but didn’t get the chance to. Another rug pulled from under your feet. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You could feel him lean closer, hear the concern in his voice. And yet, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the redhead talking to Lucy a few feet away.

You knew. You knew Jackson had a plus one, it was the whole fucking reason you showed up with one of your own because you didn’t want to look like the loser who hadn’t moved on. You had been warned that he was bringing someone else. 

You just never assumed it would be her.

“That’s the girl my ex cheated on me with,” you managed to mumble under your breath to Nico, managed to finally turn your head to look at him. 

His expression was some mix of surprise and anger and, honestly, you would have laughed at the seriousness on his face if it weren’t for the fact you felt the exact same. You didn’t care about your ex and you had moved on, but it was still a bitter sting to know he was still with the woman he cheated on you with all those years ago.

You tried to relax your shoulders and act as unaffected as you could as Bryce rounded the table to take the seat next to Jackson—the seat across from you. But any hopes of the brunch going as smoothly as the dinner yesterday went out the window when her eyes landed on you.

“Oh my god,” Bryce let out a laugh and smiled at you, a smile you were sure was meant to be friendly but just made your skin prickle. “I didn’t know you would be here! Luce didn’t tell me.”

Luce. That was your nickname for her, not Bryce’s.

“I guess we are both surprised then,” you replied with a strained smile.

Nico couldn't help but snort, not even trying to hide his reaction.

Her eyes snapped over to him, calculating. “And this must be your plus one. Your friend?” 

“Boyfriend, actually,” you corrected.

“Hm, how sweet.” 

You still felt on edge as the brunch continued. Nico’s arm around the back of your seat was a comfort but it didn’t help the fact Bryce’s gaze on you felt like daggers against your skin. You ignored both her and Jackson for the most part, listening to the stories exchanged amongst the group and Lucy raving about the final dress fitting later that day. It was easy to zone out until the conversation seemed to focus back onto you and the boy by your side.

“So,” Lucy grinned as she glanced between you and Nico. “What’s the story? How did you meet? When did it happen? I want details, I can’t believe you’ve been holding back on me!”

You flashed her an apologetic look. “You were busy with the wedding, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Well, you can tell me now,” she retorted with a wink. 

“It’s really not that interesting,” you said, shifting in your seat when you felt everyone’s eyes on you. As much as you joked about having an insane love story, the idea of even saying the boring one right now with everyone’s attention directed on you made your skin prickle with discomfort.

But even if everyone else was oblivious, Nico wasn’t. 

“To her, maybe,” he spoke up and everyone’s focus shifted to him, even your own. But he was used to this. He was used to many eyes on him and attention directed towards him. “I still get teased about it by the boys.” 

Lucy’s smile softened. “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” Nico laughed, his eyes briefly looking at you before his gaze returned to your friend. “I had a huge crush on her when she joined the team. Like, embarrassingly huge. Jack used to tease me all the time on how I seemed to forget how to speak English around her.”

Your stomach dipped and, for a quick second, you almost believed him with everyone else.

“She always did play a little hard to get,” Jackson mused and something visibly changed in Nico’s expression. 

“And she was worth every second of it,” Nico retorted, the same camera-approved smile he gave the journalists during interviews. “Unlike some people though, I have no plan to lose her.”

Jackson clenched his jaw. 

“How long have you been together then?” Bryce jumped in, her narrowed gaze glancing between you both.

“A few months,” you and Nico replied at the same time.

Bryce’s eyes gleamed. “And how long is a few months?” 

“Six,” Nico answered simply before he turned to smile at you. “Best six months of my life.”

Your face warmed in response. “He’s a little cheesy.” 

“You mean romantic,” Lucy teased, but there was something approving in her expression. It warmed your heart a little at the idea that she would have approved of Nico if he really was your boyfriend. “She isn’t used to that.”

Jackson stiffened. 

Nico’s grin widened and before you could even realise what he was doing, he was taking your hand in his and placing a kiss along your knuckles. “I’m honoured to be the one to spoil her, then.”

Thankfully, Jackson and Bryce didn’t say much for the rest of the meal.

…

You felt like you were in an odd routine over the next few days, but you found that you actually quite enjoyed it. 

The wedding frenzy was in full effect but there was something grounding about having Nico by your side for it all. 

Every morning, you woke up first and found yourself tangled in bed with the boy. It also meant the bathroom freakouts had become a part of your routine, but it was worth it to wake up and enjoy the warmth of Nico Hischier’s hold for a few minutes. You two would end up lounging in your shared room, just trying to fully wake up before Lucy dragged you into last minute wedding nonsense. 

But even at night, you found yourself settled into a routine with the boy. He would go first to the bathroom and you’d go second, and then the two of you would be settled against the headboard, rambling away until one of you yawned and the other one turned the lights off for the night.

It almost made you laugh that there was ever a time you were intimidated by the captain—even when that time was just last week.

And yet, for the first time since you arrived in Charleston, there was nothing for you to do. The rehearsal dinner was tomorrow, the wedding was the following day and it was like you were facing the calm before the storm took over your lives. And it was the first time you could all enjoy the beach without a deadline looking over your head.

“C’mon, it will be fun!” 

Lucy snorted. “For you, maybe.” 

Tom grinned down at his future wife, lightly tugging on her hand but she remained sat on the deck chair. “It’s just a friendly game of soccer. Boys versus girls. Come on.”

“Football,” Nico corrected under his breath, making you snort.

“That is hardly fair,” Lucy argued. “You’ll have a professional athlete on your side!”

“Nico is a hockey player!” Tom retorted.

“Same thing,” Lucy waved off and Nico’s expression was enough for you to snort again. “Fine, we play but with mixed teams.”

Tom contemplated for a moment before agreeing. “Deal.”

“And I get Nico on my team,” she added, watching in delight as her fiance gaped.

“But—” He paused, lifting his head to find your gaze. “You’re on my team then.”

“She’s my best friend!” 

“You took the athlete, I get your best friend. That’s the deal.”

“Do we get a choice in this?” Nico murmured to you and you just laughed, shaking your head.

After more arguing and bickering and negotiating between the future married couple, the teams had been decided. Goals had been marked in the sand, a ball had been acquired and the game began. It was stupid and harmless and it was meant as nothing more than a little fun. 

But Tom and Lucy were more competitive than they let on. And it certainly didn’t help the fact Jackson seemed to have it out for your boyfriend before the match even began.

“Think you can handle tackling your boyfriend?” Jackson asked you. 

“I don’t think it concerns you how well I handle him,” you retorted, feeling the weight of Nico’s gaze on you from across the makeshift pitch like a comfort.

“He doesn't seem like your type,” Jackson continued, always sticking close enough so he could keep talking.

“My type is none of your business,” you stated bluntly.

“I mean, a jock? Really?” Jackson shrugged. “Just didn’t think you went for the airhead.”

You snorted, unable to help yourself. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing when I considered what I saw in you.”

He huffed. “You—”

“Don’t want to continue this conversation, Jackson,” you shot him a look. “I’m happy with Nico. I don’t care what you have to say about it. I’m here for Lucy, not you. Don’t get it twisted.” 

“You’ll never have what we had with Nico,” he said. 

“One can only hope.”

…

You were stupid to think Nico wouldn’t be competitive in a friendly game. He was a professional athlete. It was literally written in his DNA.

And honestly? You felt bad for anyone who played against the Devils because you couldn’t imagine how intense Nico was to play against in a proper game when this was how seriously he was taking a stupid football match that meant nothing.

“NEXT GOAL WINS THE GAME!”

The group had been playing for the last hour, the game was tied and you knew that you would have to head back into the house for lunch soon. But neither team wanted to leave the game until there was a clear winner.

Any semblance of friendliness went out the window as the last leg of the game continued. You weren’t too bothered, more than happy to watch Tom and Lucy mostly fight over the ball and constantly try to tackle each other. 

But your stomach dipped a little when you saw Lucy kick the ball back to Nico. And the feeling only got worse when you saw Jackson making a beeline towards the boy, determined to tackle it out of his hold. Before you even knew it, you and the rest of the party were watching the two boys race down the makeshift pitch.

However, no matter how hard he tried, Jackson could never match Nico’s speed. 

You watched as he kicked the ball, right through the makeshift goal that had been created in the sand. The group broke out into a mix of groans and cheers alike, people clapping and whooping as Nico ran back towards you with a massive grin on his face. 

You barely had a chance to react before he was right in front of you, crouching down enough for his arms to wrap around your thighs before he hoisted you over his shoulders. 

“Nico!” You let out a noise mixed between a scream and laugh.

“We won, baby!” He cheered and your cheeks burned at the nickname. 

Your hands tried to hold onto him for balance but a part of you knew he would never drop you. You patted his back and Nico seemed to catch the hint as he slowly dropped your back to the ground, though his arms remained wrapped around you to keep you close.

“You won,” you corrected. “We are on different teams, remember?”

Nico shrugged. “My win is your win.” 

You snorted. “That was cheesy.” 

“Didn’t like it?” He teased, and your cheeks burned warmer. 

“You make it work,” you admitted, the band around your chest tightening when you saw his face brighten at your words. 

“Yeah?” 

For a moment, you forgot that you were surrounded by people. For a moment, it was just you and Nico stood on this beach, smiling and laughing and alone. For a moment, you could have sworn his eyes dipped down to your mouth. For a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you.

A big part of you wished he did. 

“C’MON, LOVEBIRDS! LUNCH IS READY!”

You blinked, tearing your eyes away from the boy right in front of you and instead turned to look at the others. Some of the group were already making their way back to the house, but a few lingered on the beach. Lucy was grinning at you like a madman with Tom looking equally as happy. However, it was hard to focus on them when Jackson stood a few feet away, glaring at you and Nico.

You cleared your throat, hoping your smile seemed normal as you turned to Nico. “Ready for lunch?”

“Hm,” Nico hummed, looking like he wanted to say more but ultimately just nodding. “Yeah, I’m starving.”

“Scoring the winning goal really does knock you on your ass, huh?” You joked.

Nico just laughed, throwing his arm around you before the two of you began to make your way back to the house. “Running in sand is much harder than skating.” 

“Didn’t stop you from achieving the win.”

“I’m a winner, baby,” Nico grinned. “I don’t like losing.”

…

The football game had sucked the energy out of most of the group, so it was no surprise everyone started to head to bed before the clock had even reached ten.

You were dragging your feet as you followed Nico to your shared room, doing everything in your ability to stay awake as he went into the bathroom first. Every one of your moves felt lethargic and sluggish and you wanted nothing more than to curl up under the duvet to sleep forever.

It was like a cruel joke from the universe that the second your head hit the pillow, you couldn’t fall asleep. And it took a solid ten minutes of twisting and turning before Nico spoke up.

“Are you okay?”

You froze before letting out a heavy sigh, settled on your back as you stared blankly into the dark room. “Just can’t sleep.” There was a pause. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

“I wasn’t asleep yet.” he assured you before he shuffled in his spot until he was facing you, even if he couldn’t really see you in the dark. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Your lips twitched upwards and maybe it was the exhaustion, but you couldn’t even stop yourself from letting out a laugh that echoed through the room.

Nico let out a noise of amusement. “What?” 

You shook your head, feeling oddly giddy as you spoke. “Nothing, it’s just,” you paused for a few seconds. “I just remembered Jack telling me how the team joked that you took on the role of the therapist before you became captain. That after bad games, you went out of your way to ask them how they were doing and being the shoulder they needed to cry on.”

Nico frowned a little. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all,” you answered as you turned to look at him, imagining the features on his face even if you couldn’t see him. “It’s just funny that I knew what you were like this whole time but still…it took me experiencing you to realise how stupid I was.” 

His confusion grew. “Stupid for what?”

“For thinking you were scary,” you admitted in a whisper.

Nico didn’t say anything before he let out a laugh. “You thought I was scary?” 

“Well, not scary,” you corrected, but you couldn’t help but laugh with him. “Just…intimidating.” 

“Is that why you never spoke to me?”

“I spoke to you,” you argued.

“Hardly,” Nico mused. “I don’t think we had a proper conversation until you had almost been with the team for a year. I had to ask Jack if I had done something to piss you off because you seemed to get on with everyone else but me.”

You couldn’t hide your surprise. “You asked Jack?”

“I wanted to apologise if I had done something I didn’t realise upset you,” he confessed, and something in your chest tightened at the thought.

“Oh god,” you murmured, letting out a groan as you raised your hands to cover your face. “Now I feel like even more of a dick.”

Nico huffed out a laugh before he reached over, his palm warm and comforting as it rested on your arm. “It’s fine. We are friends now, right?”

You sighed. “Yeah but—”

“Hey, don’t feel too bad about it, okay? We were both being stupid,” Nico’s words washed over you, his thumb gently rubbing soothing circles on your skin. “And without that, you could have been here with Jack or someone else instead and I would have missed out on a pretty fun week.”

“You’re having fun?”

“Of course I am. I’m here with you,” he murmured, voice thick and full of sincerity. It made your heart race in your chest to the point you almost swore he could hear it. “Plus, it’s pretty funny seeing how pathetic your ex-boyfriend is.”

You snorted. “Not my finest decision in life.”

“As much as I wish you never experienced that kind of pain, I’m glad it happened,” Nico whispered, his hand lightly squeezing your arm. “It meant you moved to New Jersey. It meant that I—that the whole team got to meet you.”

Your cheeks burned but you smiled, even if he couldn’t see it. You placed a hand over his and squeezed back. “I’m glad I met you too. All of you.”

“Bet you wouldn’t have had this heart-to-heart with Jack, huh?”

You let out a breathless laugh. “No, he probably would have fallen asleep before I even left the bathroom.”

Nico laughed but didn’t disagree. 

You don’t remember exactly at what point you fell asleep that night, but you spent a little longer in his arms the next morning. 

It was a risk but you had lost time to make up for with Nico Hischier, even if it meant making up those moments tangled in bed with him.

…

The rehearsal dinner was where everything really hit you.

It had been running smoothly, though you expected nothing less from Lucy. You knew she probably had the day planned down to the minute, and even if the plan deviated, she would have five back up plans that were ready to go. It was just the kind of person she was.

It was held outside on the beach, the slowly setting sun casting the skies orange and pink over the venue. The tables were set to perfection, the fairy lights decorated across the borders and you had truly never seen anyone happier than Lucy and Tom in that moment. Your heart soared at the idea of the two most deserving people finding the happiness they earned.

It was gorgeous. It was perfect. It was the last fucking time and place you should have been hit with the fact that you were maybe, kinda, most definitely falling in love with Nico Hischier.

Lucy had just wanted a calm, laid back rehearsal dinner. The wedding party was just meant to practise walking in and out, before eventually sitting down to enjoy the nice meal set for the occasion. It was nothing intense, nothing high-stress or extreme. 

It was meant to be fine.

And it was, all things considered. Everything ran smoothly, everyone stood where they were meant to stand and there wasn’t a doubt in anyone’s head that the wedding itself would run smoothly. 

But it didn’t feel fine in your head. 

You had taken your place in the line of bridesmaids, waiting for your cue to start walking down the makeshift aisle. You had stepped out right on beat, you kept your gaze forward, you stood on your marked spot and then you turned to wait for Lucy to make her way down the aisle. 

Except your eyes shifted away from the bride and found Nico’s gaze. 

He should have turned his head to look at the approaching bride-to-be like everyone else was. He should have been watching the ceremony, enjoying the love shared between the happy couple you were all here to celebrate. He should have been looking the other way.

But he was looking at you. 

He was looking at you with a soft smile—one that only widened the second he realised you were looking right back. The skin around his eyes crinkled with his smile, his chain was peeking out the open collar shirt and the soft breeze was making strands of his hair flutter down onto his forehead and—

Fuck. 

You were falling for Nico Hischier. 

The realisation hit you hard and fast, it almost felt like you were winded by the thought. It was a small blessing that everyone was focused on Lucy, that they were far too preoccupied to watch the way you stumbled slightly in your spot at the weight of your sudden realisation. 

Well, everyone except Nico.

He frowned a little, a crease forming between the brows and you could see the concern in his eyes even with the large distance between you. You could see the way he tilted his head slightly, the silent question hanging between you as you just flashed him a small smile and nodded your head. 

You had to tear your eyes away from him before your lungs caved in or your heart burst out of your chest. You had to force yourself to remember to smile and focus on the rehearsal dinner. You had to force yourself to remain normal.

Because he was Nico Hischier. 

He was captain of the New Jersey Devils. He was your colleague. He was your newly-made friend. He was here doing a favour after Jack practically threw him in the deep-end. He wasn’t here to witness your sudden and mind-boggling realisations. 

So, when the dinner was starting to be served and he found your side again, you didn’t hesitate to lie through your teeth. 

“I’m okay,” you told him, a kind smile on your face that you hoped was believable. “Trust me, Nico, I’m fine. Just got a little dizzy, must have low blood sugar or something.” 

Because you were here for your friend’s wedding. And he was here to help you out. 

There was no place for your newfound feelings.

…

To absolutely nobody’s shock, the wedding went through without a single hitch.

The ceremony ran through smoothly with pretty vows and sweet kisses exchanged between the newly married couple. As the reception rolled around, speeches were given, laughs were shared and dinner was served as the guests all enjoyed the union of Lucy and Tom and their love. 

It was sweet. It was perfect. It was everything your best friend deserved for her wedding.

It didn’t take long after the dinner for the first dance to commence, a soft smile in place as you watched Tom and Lucy softly sway to their chosen song. They looked lost in their own world, so caught up in each other like they forgot everyone else existed. 

A pang of longing hit you but you shoved it away. 

It was somewhere between your third and fourth glass of wine when Lucy found you, dragging you towards the dance floor with some halfhearted rambles about wanting to get pictures of all the bridesmaids and groomsmen dancing before you all got shit-faced drunk.

It was your unfortunate luck that the photographer paired you with Jackson before you had the chance to disagree, to escape the way Bryce was glaring at you like you had chosen him.

“She isn’t you.” 

You tried to keep your eyes anywhere but his face, to try and focus on something other than his hands on your waist. You thought you could zone out and that maybe the song would pass quickly, but the universe had other plans for you.

“It’s not like how it was when I was with you,” Jackson continued. 

“What do you genuinely think this conversation is going to achieve?” You asked him, gaining the courage to lift your head to look him in the eyes. You kept your voice down to avoid attention, to avoid creating a scene. “We’re done. We were done years ago when you chose to throw our relationship down the drain. I’ve moved on, you should too.”

Jackson shot you a look. “Tell me you haven’t felt it this week. Tell me you don’t feel the pull—”

“I don’t,” you stated bluntly. “And I have no interest in what you’ve felt this week. I don’t care.”

He frowned. “Because of your lil’ hockey player?”

“Little isn’t the word I’d use to describe him but no,” you answered honestly. “Not because of him but because of you. You ruined things, Jackson, and I moved on with my life. Accept that.” 

Jackon’s frown only deepend. He opened his mouth and you could only imagine what he was going to say, could only imagine what bullshit he was about to pull out of his ass. But before he got the chance, a firm hand landed on his shoulder to halt his movements. 

“Mind if I cut in?” 

Jackson glanced over his shoulder to see Nico standing there, smiling like nothing was wrong, like he wouldn’t happily put Jackson in his place if he disagreed. And maybe your words got through to him or maybe Jackson accepted it was not worth arguing with a man over fifty pounds heavier and four inches taller than him. 

He turned to look at you, saying nothing as his jaw clenched in response before he wandered off. 

Nico hardly wasted any time in taking up Jackson’s spot, one arm wound around your waist and tugging you close whilst the other intertwined with your hand. He looked down at you, eyes full of concern, fondness and something else as he noted how tense you were.

“You okay?” His voice soft and quiet but, fuck, it was exactly what you needed to hear. “He didn’t say anything, right? Because I can—”

“I handled it,” you assured him with a soft smile, squeezing his hand to punctuate your point. “But thank you for being my knight in shining armour.”

“Selfishly, I wanted to do it the second the dance started,” Nico admitted, and if he hadn’t been drinking all night, you would have assumed the pink flush to his cheeks was a blush. “I mean, you’re my date after all. Surely first pick dancing rights go to me, no?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “First pick in the draft, now in dancing…you’re quite the man, Hischier.”

“I’m consistent,” he retorted, tugging you that little bit closer until you had the excuse to rest your head against his chest. 

And for a moment, with your cheek pressed against his shirt and his presence engulfing, you let yourself pretend this moment would last forever. You let yourself enjoy the last day Nico Hischier would pretend to be your boyfriend and imagined a world where it wasn’t really pretend at all.

…

Lucy wasn’t happy that you had to leave early the next morning, but she understood that both of you had to return to New Jersey.

It was dreadfully early—far too fucking early with how late you stayed up the night before—to start an eleven hour road trip, but Nico had just smiled and told you to nap the first few hours whilst he drove the first stint of the journey. 

You knew he was right, that you should have rested and gotten a little sleep but you couldn’t bring yourself to stay asleep for long. You felt like you were wasting time, you were wasting precious hours in this little bubble you had created with Nico that would burst by the time you both returned to Newark. 

So, you did what every normal and sane person did and stocked up on coffee and energy drinks at the next service station stop to keep you fuelled through the drive.

It was no different to the drive down to Charleston except for a shift in the energy. It was easier, in a sense. On the way down, Nico was essentially a glorified stranger to you that you had only shared a number of conversations with. But it felt different now, it felt like you actually knew the boy in the seat beside you. 

And it was bittersweet in that sense, too.

Because you loved this. You loved how easy it was to talk to him. You loved how you got to see the side of Nico Hischier that enamoured the fans, the team and the league. You loved that you got your own special version of him in the last week. And you didn’t want to lose that, you didn’t know if you would ever see this version of Nico again once you reached New Jersey. 

And as the hours passed and the closer you reached your destination, it felt like Nico realised the same. The car was tense and thick with tension, one that went unspoken but reeked of longing and the desire to cling onto the bubble the two of you created over the last week.

It was there, lingering and stewing and, yet, neither of you said anything about it once you reached your apartment complex.

“Thank you,” you said for what felt like the millionth time that weekend, but it was necessary. It had to be said. It meant so much more.

Thank you for coming with me this weekend. Thank you for backing me up. Thank you for being a good friend. Thank you for showing me who you really are even if it’s going to fuck with my head for the rest of my life. Thank you for being you.

“Any time,” he said, the words just as heavy as yours. You wish you knew what he meant by them. “Do you need help with your bags? I can—”

“I’ve got them,” you assured him.

His brows furrowed together. “Are you sure? I—”

“I’m sure,” you said, clearing your throat and finding the courage to finally look at him. You pushed away the stupidest and strangest urge to cry. “Well, see you on Monday then?”

Nico frowned a little but nodded. “See you Monday.”

It felt harsh being so blunt, so straightforward and direct. But you knew you needed to get out of that car as quickly as you could. Because you had spent the last week with Nico by your side the whole time, basked in the warmth of him as a person, and you knew all it would take was a few more moments alone with him for you to blurt out something stupid.

You knew you needed to get out of there and just be alone. To lock yourself in your apartment over the next twenty-four hours before you had to return to work, to attempt to wrap your head around the flurry of emotions bursting inside of you. You knew you needed to get behind that door before you had the urge to run back down to his car.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to look back at his car, to see if he drove off, as you reached the door of your apartment complex. You forced yourself to keep your gaze ahead, to put one foot in front of the other until you reached your apartment. You felt your body moving on autopilot as you unlocked the door, stepped inside and dumped the bags you had dragged up. 

And then, the overwhelming realisation and memories of the last few days washed over you. 

Fuck. You were in love with him. You were properly in love with him. You were going to have to go into work on Monday and see him there and pretend everything is normal. You are going to have to pretend for the rest of your life or until your feelings go away. You were going to—

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

You paused, the heel of your palm pressed to the centre of your chest as you tried to regulate your breaths. You had half the mind to ignore the knocks, to hope the person on the other side of the door just left you alone so you could curl up onto your couch with a fluffy blanket and a tub of ice cream.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

But you had a nagging feeling this person wouldn’t leave.

You avoided the mirror in your hallway as you headed back towards your front door, twisting the handle and pulling the door back with the full expectation of seeing one of your neighbours on the other side. 

Instead, it was a panting and breathless Nico.

“Nico?”

“I can’t pretend anymore,” he blurted out, beyond the point of caring whether he was too blunt or straightforward. “I can’t pretend because I have spent the last few years pretending and I’m tired of it.”

Your brows furrowed together. “What are you—”

“I wasn’t lying when I told your friends,” Nico continued, his eyes never leaving yours. It was almost like he was afraid to look away. It was like he was scared you would disappear if he did, or he would lose the confidence he had to say what he had been feeling since he first saw you. “I had the biggest crush on you when you joined the team years ago.”

Your lips parted in surprise, but no words came out. No words were needed as Nico continued.

“And Jack knew. Everyone fucking knew how I felt about you,” he admitted with a laugh, one that was a little dry and self-depricating. “They knew how I felt about you before you even spoke to me. And then Jack saw the opportunity and he tried to help me but it just made everything worse.”

Your heart twisted at his words.

“Because it showed me what life would be like if I was actually yours,” Nico whispered, voice cracking and emotions raw. “It showed me what it would be like for you to hold my hand and call me your boyfriend and introduce me to your friends like I’m this huge part of your life. And now it fucking sucks that it’s not true, that it’s over. And I can’t just keep going on in life and seeing you at work on Monday and acting like I’m still okay with pretending—”

You kissed him.

He was standing at your doorstep confessing a million different things at once, confessing things that had your head spinning and your brain racing to catch up with. But he was standing there and he felt the same way and you just couldn’t help yourself but to grab his face and kiss him.

Nico sunk into the kiss like it was what his body was made for, like an instinctive reaction to grip your hips and pull you closer. Your arms slowly wound around his neck, tugging him down to deepen the kiss as every racing thought in your head stopped and there was just him, him, him.

“I don’t want to pretend either,” you murmured against his lips because you genuinely didn’t have it within you to pull away properly, to put any more distance between you.

You could feel him smile against your lips. “No?”

“No,” you swallowed harshly as you lightly nudged his nose with your own. “I don’t want to go back to the way everything was before the wedding. I don’t want you to become a stranger in my life.”

“Never, schatz,” he murmured softly before leaning down to press his lips against yours again, slow and purposeful. 

You let him slowly lead you back into your apartment, listened to the way he kicked the door shut with his boot as he led you towards the coach in your living room. You could feel his smile against your own as you fell back onto the cushions, his body a comfortable and familiar weight on you as memories of your mornings together flashed through your mind.

“Oh god.”

Nico pulled back, holding his weight on his elbows as he looked down at you with a frown. “What?”

“Jack is going to be so fucking smug,” you grumbled, playfully groaning whilst the boy on top of you just laughed. 

“You’re something else,” Nico murmured with a grin.

You raised your brows. “Good something?” 

“Best something,” Nico corrected before he leaned down to kiss you again. 

.

[qrrieterisunnq]

the blush of morning departures - Jack Hughes

Jack Hughes x fem!reader Summary: Jack is about to leave for morning practice. You ask him if he’s forgotten anything, and Jack gives you a kiss. Your cheeks turn red and you open your hand to reveal Jack’s phone and keys saying ‘I meant this, but thanks.’ request: yes/no A/N: Hello! Welcome to my first story on Tumblr. I hope you will like it. I become a Hughes Girl. Everything I write is a figment of my imagination! And, sorry for my English, it's not my first language, so be patient with me and don't hesitate to correct me if you find any error. gif not mine likes are good, reblogs are better <3word count: 1K warning(s): pregnancy, soft Jack, unedited

masterlist | wip's

You’re laying in your bed, head tucked under the blanket, because of your extremely hot and active boyfriend, who has early morning practice. He’s pacing around the house packing his gear and making his food.

With a groan, you get out of bed, and just in Jack’s huge shirt, you make your way down to the living room, where you sit down, turning on the TV.

Jack gets out of the bathroom, walking through the living room, not noticing you. You smile to yourself shaking your head. Every morning, when he has practice he’s so caught up with his routine that he barely notices things around him.

"Oh, I’m sorry Cherry, I didn’t mean to wake you up." he sighs when he finally notices you lying under a blanket on the couch.

"It’s okay, I’m used to it." you smiled tiredly, and you extended your hand in his direction.

With a smile on his face, he grabs my hand and pulls it to his mouth to kiss it. "You look gorgeous." he smiles brushing the hair off my face.

"You don’t look bad yourself too." you chuckle caressing his cheek.

"Thank you, Cherry." he laughed shaking his head. You smile closing your eyes for a while.

"I made you breakfast, blueberry pancakes with blueberry sauce and blueberry smoothie"” you laughed at this. Yesterday when you were shopping you bought two kilos of blueberry because they had a great price and you both love them, so.

"Thank you, baby." you laughed kissing his hand.

"I’m going to get my bag and pack my gear okay? You go eat or it will get cold and most of all you have to eat so that our little one can grow," he says protectively extending his hand to my slightly large belly.

"Okay, but first, you have to help me stand up." laughing he helps you up and immediately pulls you in a tight hug, bending down to kiss your template.

"Thank you." sighing out you whisper in his chest breathing in his scent.

"Go eat, I’ll be right back." he pulls away and makes his way into your bedroom.

You walk into the kitchen sit down on the chair with little struggle and start eating the best pancakes you've ever eaten. It is no secret that Jack is an amazing cooker and you're grateful for him because you would probably burn up our kitchen if you tried to cook something.

While you’re eating, Jack is packing his gear as he’s thinking about what will you two do in the afternoon, when he comes back from practice. He’d like to take you to this one restaurant in Jersey he found last week when he and his teammates were heading to the bar to celebrate their win.

He loves to spoil you and show you how much he loves you. When he comes home after a game, you did not attend, he brings you something. Whether it’s ice cream, flowers, or even stupid Oreo, he’s always looking for the smile on your face when he gives it to you.

Before he leaves your bedroom, he paces towards his nightstand to check out if the black velvet ring box is still safe in the drawer. He bought the ring a few weeks ago while on his roadie in Washington. He saw it on the street and had to buy it knowing, now is the right time, to ask you. After all, you’ll have a baby in no matter of time and you’re the love of his life.

He gets up, tosses the bag around his shoulder, and makes his way down the hallway into the kitchen to say goodbye to you before he leaves.

"Okay babe, I will leave in a few," Jack’s voice comes from the hall, where he puts on his Nike sneakers in the meantime so he doesn't have to put them on later and go straight to practice.

"Okay," you say with a full mouth of the pancakes. Swallowing the pancakes in your mouth, you stick another piece on the fork.

"Is it good?" he chuckles when he comes into the kitchen and sees you eating his pancakes with full mouth. You nodded and mumbled yes.

"Well I’m glad you like it," he bends down kissing your forehead with a smile on his lips.

"It tastes delicious. Thank you for being my chef," you say after you swallow.

"Yeah, well someone has to cook when you’re able to burn the kitchen down," he laughs sitting down next to me. You stick another piece of pancakes on a fork and put it to his lips, so he can taste it too.

"They taste great," he chuckles, moaning slightly at the taste. Checking his phone he quickly stands up rushing to the hall. "I’ve gotta go princess."

You stand up from the chair, shaking your head, when you see his phone and keys lying down on the table. You grab them in your hand walking to the hall to say goodbye to him.

"Your early lunch is in the fridge, I’ll be home around eleven. Then we can go on a walk," he smiles tossing his bags around his shoulders. „I love you baby and you too baby boy.“ he bends down to pick up his bag making his way to the door.

"Didn’t you forget something?" you ask him, clutching his phone and keys behind your back.

"Sorry." he smiles bending down to peck a kiss on your lips.

Laughing, you remove your hand from behind your back and show him his phone and keys. "I meant this, but thanks."

With a shake of his head, he takes his things from you, pressing down another kiss to your lips. "I fucking love you, woman."

"I love you too," you chuckle at his statement. "Be careful okay? I want my man in one piece before I give birth."

"I will don’t worry, I have Nico to look after me, right? And in a few weeks we’ll have Luke here to look after me too, so don’t worry about me." he chuckles giving you a last kiss before he makes his way out of the house with a loud goodbye.

[sunsetsimon]

you talked about simon eating a lot, and i was wondering, what about a reader who doesn't eat a lot and struggles a bit with eating? sorry, feel free to ignore this💗

no i absolutely love this!

simon knows he’s a big guy, so he just eats whenever he gets hungry, knowing his demanding job will help him maintain his weight. but he cant help but notice how often you turn down his offers of food, or lack ideas for meals you’d want to eat. he sits you down and asks you honestly, wanting to make sure you’re okay mentally and your thoughts on food.

“you been okay, darlin’? noticed you haven’t been eating much these days,” his blonde eyebrows furrow, brown eyes searching your face for an answer. he’s just worried about you, he wants you to be healthy, being able to eat what’s good for you when you need it.

he listens intently, asking questions to understand your struggles better. when you explain it’s just harder for you to eat, lacking a normal appetite and sometimes forgetting to eat meals, his hand holds yours, softly rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand as you talk. humming occasionally to acknowledge your words without interrupting.

“if it’s okay with you, dove, i think it would be fun to prepare our meals together. i can be a better cook for you,” simon offers, scarred lip curling into a smirk, his large hands squeezing your thighs.

he takes it upon himself to start meal-prepping, making sure to take into account things that are easier for you to eat. doing hours of research in his free time, finding it’s best to start with liquids before trying to add more food into your diet. he wakes up every morning and makes the two of you a delicious smoothie, packed with fruits and veggies, greek yogurt and milk, even peanut butter or a scoop of oats if he feels like it. if he’s expecting to leave soon, he’ll buy everything you need in bulk so you can maintain it while he’s gone.

(and even if you don’t live together, he’s scheduling deliveries for groceries or any food you mention wanting)

gladly spends more money on food whenever you’d like. oh, you’re craving a pizza from your favorite place in town? anything for his baby. oh, you’re craving donuts from krispy kreme at almost midnight? he’ll be right back for his baby. he does anything to help you eat.

always encourages you when he sees you eating, giving you multiple pecks between his words as he cups your cheeks, “fuck, i love seeing you eat. you’re so cute.”

leaving you laughing while trying to swallow your bite, cheeks flushed red from his kisses.

regardless of whether or not you’re actively trying to eat more, he just cares that you’re healthy and eating 3 meals a day, drinking plenty of water, taking vitamins or medication. yes one of his love languages is acts of service.

[tootiecakes234]

First “I love you” from Katsuki

Katsuki has been your boyfriend for about 3 months now and it was going great.

You guys were in the store doing his weekly grocery shopping.

“Since we are doing the work of grocery shopping right now, it means we can’t do the work of cooking when we get home Katsuki. We have to stop and get take out on the way home. It’s girl math”, you were explaining to him.

“What kinda dumb shit reasoning is that? The fuck is a girl math?”

He was walking at a brisk pace because he has a list of what he needs and that’s all he’s in here for. Katsuki does not like aimlessly scrolling and shopping. Perfect for you because you got anxiety in the grocery store.

“So you don’t actually watch all the TikTok’s I send you?? So you don’t actually care about me?” You were looking at him with a fake pout on your face to support your teasing.

“You send me 50 fucking videos at one time! I can’t watch every single one of them. I don’t have enough time in my day.”

“Wow! So you’re breaking up with me?? I can’t believe this”

Katsuki no longer entertains you. He just keeps walking and picking up the things he needs.

“I can’t believe our time together has come to an end. I really thought we could’ve been something.”

He continues to ignore you and starts heading for the register having finished checking off his list.

“You forgot to get your protein powder. You used the last of it this morning in your smoothie.” You told him before he actually got in line.

“Fuck, I forgot. I didn’t add it to my list.”, he mumbled looking at you like he was a shocked you’d noticed.

“Go ahead and get in line and I’ll go grab it. You like the peanut butter one right?”

“Uh… yea.”

You leave and go grab the powder and by the time you get back he’s almost done checking out. He pays and you guys head out to his car.

You help him unload everything and then hop in your seat while he puts up the cart. When he gets inside you’re scrolling on your phone while waiting.

You look up at him and smile.

“You promised I could control the music on the way home. Get prepared for non stop break up songs to cope with us being over.”

He looks you in your eyes and the words just kinda tumble out of his mouth, “ Y’know I love you right?”

Your mouth falls open a little and your eyes are stretched wide open. You can’t believe he just said that!? He’s never said that to you before.

It takes you a few seconds before your find words to use, “So we aren’t breaking up?”

Katsuki actually chuckles at you before he leans in and presses his lips softly against yours.

When he pulls back he asks you, “so where are we getting takeout from?”

The grin on your face is huge as you both get situated and buckle yourselves in.

As he starts driving you look over at him and you can see the little smile sitting on his lips.

“Y’know I love you too right?” You say mocking him.

“Obviously. I’m fucking amazing” he says all confidently even though there’s a deep blush settling in over his face.

Katsuki Masterlist

[pellucid-constellations]

My Everyday

Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes was aggressive, annoying, and—worst of all—a hockey player. Not your type. At all. But, unfortunately, your roommate. 

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: Minor injury, idiots in love <3, some angst, pining

a/n: My first fic in a century!! Thank you so much for reading if you’re still here. Depending on how this does I hope I’ll have motivation to write more! College athlete Bucky never fails to get me inspired :)

Masterlist

~~

“What’s this punks name again?” 

The breath you let out was long and excruciating. “I am not repeating myself.” 

“C’mon, y/n,” Bucky whined, knocking his head back on the couch. He watched you bustle around the kitchen from his inverted vantage point. “How the hell am I supposed to swoop in and save the day if I don’t even know the kid’s name?” 

“Okay, well, first of all—” the fridge door clicked shut with a swift motion of your hips “—he’s not a ‘kid’. I’m pretty sure he’s a few months older than you.” 

“Semantics.” 

“And second of all,” you stressed, pointing a butter knife in his direction. “There will be no ‘swooping in’. I’m going to have a nice date and you are going to go hang out with your puck rabbits or whatever they're called. There will be no thinking about me and no swooping in my vicinity.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes, kicking up from the couch and rounding the kitchen counter to pick at your sandwich. You knocked his hand away several times, but you both knew it was futile. In the months you’d been living with the hockey player—who was far too big for the small, shoebox of an apartment you leased—you’d learned that food was non-negotiable for Bucky Barnes. 

There were many other things you’d learned about him as well. He sang in the shower, but only when he thought you weren’t home. He had an annoying penchant for using your $30 lotion—again, when he thought you weren’t home. And he loved to throw his massive, smelly gear just about anywhere it would land right when he got home from every practice. 

He didn’t really care if you were home for that last one. 

Bucky was the last person you thought you would be rooming with when you posted that ad last summer. A small, quaint room previously occupied by your now engaged (and traitorous) best friend, you assumed someone like-minded to yourself would have taken you up on your offer. The price point wasn’t egregious and the building was relatively close to campus. 

But weeks ticked by, and you started getting desperate. Your landlord wasn’t a nice lady, something you were positive she took pride in, and she decided that a rent increase was the perfect way to ring in the new school year. You were on the verge of destitution, and as it so happened, the only other person as desperate as you was the starting center for your college’s hockey team. 

You hardly got along. It had taken weeks for your eye to stop twitching every time he tumbled through the front door at three in the morning, and even longer for you not to feel an infuriating aggravation at his random, nighttime smoothies. You supposed he probably felt the same about your cleanliness rules and your incessant reminders about trash days. Because Bucky was in charge of bringing the trash down those long, apartment steps. Not you. 

But you’d be lying if you said things hadn’t gotten easier as of late. Conversation flowed more smoothly, things that made you seethe before were only mildly annoying, and Bucky was being… considerate? You weren’t quite sure what to call the random cups of coffee he brought home on occasion. Or his sudden urge to warm up your car when he had a morning class before yours. 

There was also the case of that party last weekend. A frat party with far too many drunk men and not enough common sense, you had had the urge to leave the second you got there. But Wanda had dragged you along for the sole purpose of driving her home after she got hammered, so you were essentially stuck. 

It was fine at first. Hot and crowded and loud, but fine. You kept a general eye on Wanda and scrolled aimlessly on your phone in the armchair you claimed. And then it wasn’t fine, because a man twice your size was encroaching on your space and unrelenting. 

“What kinda girl comes to a party and doesn’t even wanna talk to anyone?” 

“You want to come up to my room and watch a movie or something?” 

“Hey, I’m talking to you, bitch.” 

You weren’t even aware that Bucky had been at that party. It wasn’t surprising—the line between fraternities and sports was blurred at your college—but the space he took up as he intercepted the man in front of you was.

~~

“There a problem here?” Bucky posed, crossing his arms over his chest, his presence looming above your seated position. His weight shifted to his toes.

The man didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, you. Move.” 

“Wanna fucking tell me what to do again?” 

“Fuck you, man.” 

A harsh shove to Bucky’s chest was all it took for a right hook to echo in the living room of the frat house. There was chaos. Grunts and screams from the drunk people surrounding the unnecessary fight created a cacophony of unpleasant sounds that seemed to get the attention of someone in charge. The man—Brian, you had now learned based on screams—was pulled back from Bucky and getting chewed out by some president or manager of something. 

And Bucky was seething, chest rising and falling laboriously as he wiped at the new bruise forming on his face.

Fights were not uncommon. But this one had been about you. For you.

“Bucky?” you asked when the crowd calmed and Brian was no longer in the room. 

You watched his back release its tight coil. He turned. “Are you okay?” 

The words were almost lost in the noise of the crowd, but he was close enough that they created a tactile vibration across your skin. His pupils were dilated and he looked so disheveled it would have been charming if there wasn’t also a cut forming on his brow. 

“Y/n.” 

It took you a moment to realize that you hadn’t answered him. Your response fell out of you as if you’d been shoved. “I’m—I’m fine.” 

He grunted, but it was more of a puff of air. “The fuck was that guy?” 

“I don’t know,” you replied, realizing by the way you swayed that you had stood up at some point. “He just—” 

“We’re going home.” 

“What? I can’t, I’m here with Wanda. I’m driving her, Bucky, I can’t just leave.” 

He grabbed your wrist, the grip achingly soft compared to the blows he was landing minutes before. “She left with that British guy she’s been on and off with. Asked me to tell you.” 

That explained his random appearance. Your brows pinched as you took in the information, eyes cast down to the angry red marks marring Bucky’s knuckles. He’d been in fights before. So many fights. On the ice. 

This was different. 

“I haven’t been drinking—I can drive myself home. You don’t have to leave,” you shouted over the music now bumping in the room. 

He didn’t respond, not verbally. He pulled you to his front instead, leading you through the impossible crowd until cool night air began melting into your skin. His silence was strange. Bucky’s favorite activity was talking your ear off until you told him to shut up, but right now… nothing. Even his earlier words had been clipped. 

You felt responsible for easing the tension in the air as Bucky continued to guide you to your car. You hadn’t told him where you parked, but he seemed to know the exact location anyways.

“You really don’t have to leave with me,” you mumbled. “It wasn’t a big deal or anything.” 

“It was a big deal.” 

~~

The drive home had been silent. The walk to the door had been as well. Bucky spent a few minutes appraising you in the overhead light of the living room when you got inside, but after that there was nothing. He went to his room and you went to yours. 

There was no discussion about it the morning after, either. Bucky apparently wanted to pretend nothing ever happened, so you respected that. Even now, you ignored the fading cuts on his hands as he shoveled food into his mouth.

Bucky’s next words were muffled by a mouthful of bread. “Well where’s this dude taking you at least?”

“Ice skating.”

The cough and sudden exasperation was very expected out of the man next to you, Bucky’s next words hardly containing syllables. “Huh?” 

“We’re going ice skating,” you reiterated. You picked up your lunch and headed for the living room, ignoring the slightly heaviness in your chest. “It’s winter and ice skating is festive. The rink on campus has decorations.” 

“Without me? Y/n, you’re gonna let some guy who probably doesn’t even know how to skate—” 

“Bucky—” you attempted to interrupt. 

“—drag you around the rink like a rag doll?” he continued, holding his hand up to mute your incoming speech. “I’ve asked you to come by the rink, like, a ton of times. You’ve never shown any interest.” 

You rolled your eyes and shot him a cross look as he picked your feet up from where they rested on the couch and dropped them into his lap. He went on with his rant for a little while longer, knocking his head back against cushions and accusing you of being a bad roommate. You had a few rebuttals of your own, but there was a reason you had never accompanied him to the rink. 

A good reason. 

You didn’t date athletes. 

It was true that simply going to visit Bucky at a practice, or letting him be the one to drag you around the ice like a rag doll, wouldn’t mean you were in a relationship by any means. But it would be an extra step. And if you were being honest with yourself, it would only take a few of those extra steps for the irritation you felt towards Bucky to melt into something else. 

And you didn’t date athletes. 

You did not. 

You didn’t have the time, nor the patience, to put up with the cheating, the anger issues, or the crazy schedules. And there wasn’t a single athlete you’d met at your sport-centered university that was willing to compromise on any of those subjects. Especially the cheating. You’d learned that the hard way after dating a lacrosse player for approximately one month before receiving the dreaded DM from a girl you had never met. 

The man hadn’t even given you the courtesy of pretending he didn’t know what she was talking about. He just admitted to his wrong-doing and shrugged. Shrugged. 

So athletes were not exactly in your good graces when it came to dating. 

“Are you even listening to me?” Bucky cut through your thoughts, patting your shin in impatience. 

You blinked and reoriented yourself, focusing on the hairs that fanned across Bucky’s face. “Of course I am,” you lied. “But my answer is still the same. I’m going on my date and you are not going on my date.” 

He groaned, apparently giving up as he cradled your legs closer to him to lean over and grab the remote from the coffee table. He flipped the channel to ESPN—typical—and you ate your sandwich, silently cursing him. He had a TV in his room. 

“When is it?” he suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had knitted itself into a comfortable blanket over the room. 

“Tonight,” you answered plainly. 

The arms atop your legs tensed. 

~~

The dichotomy of the man sitting beside you was impressive. On one hand, he was so full of himself that he had missed almost all of your conversation starters due to being so transfixed by his reflection in the rink’s glass. He had yet to ask you a single question about yourself and had insisted that the four other girls skating tonight were in love with him. 

On the other hand, he was, quite possibly, the most uninteresting person you had ever met. You were usually very quick to laugh, but every word out of his mouth was almost painful. He wouldn’t stop talking about his ex-girlfriend, gave you one word answers about anything other than baseball, and was honestly really terribly at ice skating. You were no pro either, but you found yourself on your back every time he tried holding your hand.

The tumble five minutes ago had you seeking out the penalty box on the side of the rink. You needed a break, you had told him, hoping he would continue on making a fool of himself and give you a moment alone. But he followed you instead, and was now sitting beside you, talking about baseball.

You supposed that was better than making you fall while talking about baseball.

“I bet we could do that,” he remarked, pointing out onto the ice and catching your attention. A couple who clearly had more experience than you was twirling each other around. “We definitely could. I pick up good speed.” You cringed. “I really don’t think we should try, Sean. My tailbone is already pretty bruised.” 

“Oh, c’mon! I won’t try the throwing part, just the twisty stuff.” 

“We are literally on rental skates. You will kill me,” you deadpanned. You were tired at this point and seriously questioning why you thought ice skating was a good first date idea. 

Well, there actually was an answer for that. But you were not going to think about the hockey player that popped into your head when Sean asked you on a date in the dining hall last week. 

Definitely not. 

“I’m not going to let my date think I’m boring,” Sean groaned, yanking you up from your seat. 

You gave a few tugs and words of resistance but they were ultimately useless. You figured it would be just as useless to tell the guy you already thought he was boring. He probably wouldn’t even hear you. 

On unsteady skates, Sean guided you to a mostly cleared corner of the rink and gripped your forearms. He squinted as he surveyed the area, the corner of his mouth turning up in a way that made your stomach roll. This entire date had been a bad idea.

“Maybe we should just watch them do it,” you tried, words wavering. 

“No!” he grinned. “No, we got this. It’s gonna look so cool.” 

And then you were spinning. You’d never been spun against your will before, but it sucked. Your skates kept getting stuck in the divots in the ice and the grip on your forearms was close to bruising. You were starting to get dizzy and Sean showed no signs of caring. God, he really was dragging you around the rink like a rag doll. Bucky was going to get a kick out of this.

“Okay, ready?” Sean called, an unwarranted jubilation in his tone. 

“What?” you yelled. 

He didn’t answer you. Instead, he let go, and you went flying in another direction without a clear path. It only lasted a moment, but the sound of your head smacking onto the ice signified the end of that movement. You landed on your arm next, and then your back. Again. 

This time felt different though. Your head was spinning and there were muted pinpricks trailing up to your wrist. The ache there was dulled compared to the biting iciness in your back, but as soon as you tried leaning on it to get up, it became sharp.

“Oh shit!” came Sean’s laughter-filled gasp. “My bad. I really didn’t mean to let go.” 

You blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from your vision but it proved unhelpful. “I think… I think my arm’s broken.” 

“Wait, seriously?” he asked, wobbling down to a seat beside you. 

“Yeah, it’s—”

“Everything okay over here?” a voice interrupted. You tried blinking again to take in the man that towered over the two of you, but the lights overhead washed him out. 

You recognized him…maybe? You felt like you were going to throw up. 

Sean answered for you. “Yeah, man, we’re fine. She just fell.” 

“Y/n, are you okay?” the man asked, ignoring your date completely.

“Do I know you?” you slurred.

You thought you heard a curse. “What made you think throwing her around was a good idea?” 

“Dude, it wasn’t even that fast. Or my fault. She just couldn’t keep her feet under her.” 

“Well, dude, maybe you should go home.” 

Sean scoffed. “Right, and who’s going to take this one home?” 

Your head was starting to hurt with all of the back and forth. The man that just joined, the taller one, kneeled down beside you. His blonde hair cast a harsh glare that had you squinting again. 

“You want me to call Bucky?” he asked.

Bucky? How would he know Bucky? Blonde hair began morphing into a man in your memory, and you reached for the material of his shirt, looping it between your fingers.

“Steve Rogers?” you mumbled. 

The man, now identified as Steve, sighed. “I’m calling him. Go home, Sean. Her roommate is coming to get her.” 

There was more discussion, something about Steve having the authority to kick him out and Sean not understanding what all of the fuss was about. Steve warned him about something and Sean scoffed as if the situation was beneath him. And then he left. 

Steve was then in your line of sight again, brows pinched together and a bright orange vest covering his shoulders. His hands hovered in front of you as if you’d break if he touched you and you almost found it funny. Steve was a huge guy with a lot of authority on Bucky’s team, but right now he looked like a scared animal. 

“Why are you dressed like a construction worker?” you asked. 

A small smile graced his face. “I’m working at the rink today. Everyone on the team has to take shifts during the holidays.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed. “I think my arm is broken.” 

“I know. I’m pretty sure you have a concussion too. Let’s get you off the ice, yeah?” 

You tried to nod, but that hurt too much so you let Steve assist you in shakily standing up. He guided you to the seats by the rental skate counter with a soft but sure hand on your back, asking some guy named Antonio for an ice pack. Everything around you felt like a fever dream. 

Gentle touches rolled the sleeve of your sweater back to reveal a swollen wrist that Steve immediately covered with an ice pack. 

He cursed again. “Well he’s gonna be pissed.” 

“Who?” Your head swayed with the question. 

Steve looked up to meet your gaze, lips parting to answer, when he was replaced by a different face. Your brain was having trouble keeping up with everything, obviously, because Bucky was in front of you now. He was kneeling between your legs with his hands on your face and you had no idea where Steve went. 

“What the fuck?” you blurted out. 

“Hey, y/n.” Bucky spoke your name low and soothing, his fingers moving to your eyes where he pried them open one at a time and looked for something you couldn’t see. His next words were directed over his shoulder. “Maybe a concussion. Tell me what happened again?” 

“Sean Marcus was being an ass. Flung her all over the place,” Steve replied. 

“Why are you here?” you interjected, trying to focus on one thing at a time. “I told you not to come on my date.” 

Bucky moved his assessment to your arm next, shifting the ice pack. “Never really agreed to those terms.” 

He turned back to Steve after that, having another discussion that you barely understood. Bucky absentmindedly fiddled with the material of your jeans as he spoke, and you put all of your energy into not face planting on the ground. This past week had truly been a series of terrible events with terrible men. 

After some amount of time elapsed, you were walking to the parking lot with a jacket thrown over your shoulders and Bucky continuously jutting a hand out each time you took a step. He was very well versed in concussions, apparently. 

“Okay, in you go, killer,” Bucky prompted, opening the passenger door. 

You eyed the front seat, scrunching your face up. “My arm hurts.” 

The man in front of you seemed to soften, his shoulders dropping on a long exhale. “I know, sweetheart. But we gotta go to the hospital to fix that. I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“I should just call Wanda. Or Nat. You don’t have to be the one to take me.” 

“I can take you just fine.”

“Why do you want to you? Aren’t you busy?” 

Another long sigh, this one accompanied by hands on your shoulders, fingers at the base of your neck. “Get in the car.”

His eyes were boring into yours, searching for something, or maybe already finding it there. You still had your arm cradled to your chest and you titled your head to the side as you observed him. There was something else to his gaze that you couldn’t quite describe. It reminded you of his expression after he came home from a rough game. Angry. Discontent. 

“You’re being weird,” you commented, breaking the silence you had created. 

“You broke your arm and smacked your head on the ice,” he simply replied, as if the statement was an explanation. 

“Yeah, but—” 

“And then that douchebag did nothing about it,” Bucky interrupted. “So please, y/n, get in the car so I can help you before I find him and kick his ass. Because you know I’m not above fighting people.” 

You blinked, and then slid into the front seat. 

The drive was quiet. You’d never been in Bucky’s car before, but the spinning in your head didn’t give you much space to inspect it too closely. You caught hockey gear in the back, a keycard to the rink dangling off the rearview mirror, and a small collection of hair ties in one of the cupholders. One caught your attention.

“Hey, this one’s mine.” You picked up the purple band and rolled it between your fingers. “Thief.” 

Bucky snatched it back. “Mine now.” 

He made a sharp turn that had you sucking air between your teeth and repositioning your arm. Bucky sent you a quick, achingly apologetic look. 

“Sorry, almost there.” A long beat of silence and then a mumbled, “I should keep your hair tie. You won’t be able to do your hair alone with a broken arm anyway.” 

~~

Your wrist was fractured, not broken. You also only had a minor concussion. This was all great news to you, especially since they told you after administering a hefty amount pain reliever. To Bucky, this was apparently terrible, life-altering news. 

After practically body slamming into the front door of your apartment, he chucked his wallet and keys down on the kitchen counter and began grumbling to himself as he opened and closed kitchen cabinets. You watched from a distance, half amused, half concerned for the rusting hinges. He finally found what he was looking for—a cup—and continued to mutter to himself as he filled it with gatorade. 

“Are you… okay?” you asked tentatively. 

Bucky ripped the freezer open and manhandled three to four ice cubes. “I’m fine. You are not.” 

“I’m okay now,” you assured. Bucky stalked over to you anyways, pressing the sports drink into your hand that was not wrapped in a cast.

You looked down at the glass and sent him a baffled look. He nodded at it and raised his brows, a silent demand for you to drink. 

“Okay. And why do I need to drink gatorade?” Your words were slow. 

“You were just on the ice and haven’t had any water for at least three hours.” 

“Bucky,” you began. “I was ice skating recreationally for about thirty minutes. I don’t need to replenish my electrolytes.” 

“Will you just… will you just drink the damn drink?” he groaned, gesturing to it with a firm hand. “Jesus, I can’t take care of you when you go and get yourself hurt by idiots. So just let me do what I know I can do, alright?” 

“You don’t have to take care of me.” You were beginning to raise your voice, matching some of the frustration in the room. 

Bucky threw his hands in the air, tugging at his roots on the way down. He moved further into the kitchen and leaned against the counter with stiff, rod-like arms propping him up. And then he sighed, long and profound as if this was the hardest conversation he’d had all year. His head hung heavy between stiff shoulders and you felt the environment shift. 

You almost wanted to intervene on his thoughts again, to make some comment about the dishes in the dishwasher or pretend you were going to go take a nap. But he had something to say, something you needed to hear, and so you stayed. You blinked and clenched your fist in the uncomfortable silence, but you stayed. 

“Y/n, I want to take care of you,” Bucky breathed out, words still directed toward the floor, almost too low to make out. “I’ve been tryna get you to see that for weeks now, but you’ve either got no clue or you want absolutely nothing to do with me.” 

You stopped blinking, stopped fidgeting, stopped breathing altogether. You watched as Bucky drummed his fingers against the counter and still refused to look up. You swallowed hard because you weren’t clueless, but also because you wanted everything to do with Bucky Barnes. 

And nothing at the same time. 

“Bucky…” you began, with a tone of surprise you weren’t sure was believable.

“Don’t do it yet,” he stopped you. “Don’t…don’t tell me no yet. I’m still pissed as hell that you got hurt and you shouldn’t be alone with a concussion. I don’t need you avoiding me when you can’t even drive a car.” 

“You’re being presumptuous.” 

He snapped his head up, his eyes rushing back and forth between your own. The drumming on the counter ceased, instead replaced by balled up fists turning white under days old cuts and fading bruises. He didn’t say anything. You searched the empty air for a reply. 

“I wouldn’t avoid you. I don’t know if I could avoid you—not anymore. You’re sort of a big part of my life now.” A good start, you thought. Not a real answer, but not a rejection. 

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek and eyed the drink still perspiring in your hand. You set it down at his observance, moving closer to his slumped posture in the kitchen. 

But Bucky stood up straight at your movement, becoming guarded, stiff. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Bad timing, just forget it. You should try and get some sleep.” 

“I don’t want to forget it,” you softly spoke, shaking your head.

He clenched his jaw. “And I don’t want to hear that you don’t feel the same way about me that I feel about you. Not right now. I feel like I’m going insane, watching you go out on dates and having my best friend tell me that my girl—that’s not really my girl—is all banged up on the ice because of some asshole.” 

You opened your mouth to speak, but Bucky kept going, now pacing in the kitchen. “I mean, y/n, you’re my everyday. I wake up and you’re making coffee. You text me in class to ask what I need at the grocery store and then I call you after practice to make sure you got back to the apartment. I think about you so god damn much and I can’t believe there was a time in my life that I didn’t get to end my day in a home that has you. And you’re just my roommate. You want nothing to do with athletes, I get it—” he added, catching your eye in the middle of his rant, “—but, shit, I haven’t even looked at another girl since… well it doesn’t even matter.”

“Tell me,” you whispered. There were a million other things you could’ve said, a million explanations that would have made sense. But the two soft words stopped Bucky from tracking holes in the ground. They shoved him from his shallow breaths and made him look at you. 

And, god, did he look at you. You must have been worse for wear. A hospital visit mixed with one too many tumbles onto solid ice probably had your hair in disarray and your face pressed with exhaustion, but his gaze was revering. Candy-coated red with soft blues melting below brows that fluxed with the movement of his lips; Bucky was beautiful, and he was looking at you as if you matched.

His tone confirmed as much, light and saccharin as he said, “That dumb movie a few weeks ago, the one about the superheroes. Your friends wouldn’t watch it with you so you made me. You were so excited even though it was awful and you were out like a light within the first hour. You rolled over onto me and I wasn’t gonna wake you up so I sorta just held you.” 

He paused, trailing his eyes up to the light fixtures. “At the risk of sounding pathetic, it felt like I had you, you know? Like we were going through all our usual motions, but after I annoyed the hell out of you and you told me off, you were mine. I can’t… I can’t really picture that with another girl.” 

There were very few times you had considered yourself speechless. But with Bucky Barnes standing in front of you, red-faced and vulnerable and still wearing the stupid hospital nametag they made him put on in the waiting room, you had no words. There was none of the arrogance you usually associated with him, no short-temper or pestering taunts. It was just Bucky, and he was pouring his heart onto the kitchen floor. For you. 

“You get why you can’t tell me no just yet?” he asked, trying to get something out of you. Anything. “You can break my heart, but let me just make sure you’re okay first. And I can’t beat the shit out of Sean if we aren’t on speaking terms.” 

The laugh that left you was one of disbelief, but the breathiness and accompanying tears fit the heaviness of the room. Your glossy eyes met Bucky’s and something flashed on his face, but it was soon out of your line of sight because you were kissing him. You were kissing him hard and your bodies were too close for the cast between you but it didn’t matter. 

He didn’t respond at first, hand hovering at your back. But then he did and the cold linoleum of the kitchen floor was gone from your bare feet. He sat you on the counter, so gently, as if you were glass, and you let your hand brush against the cracks and divots of your home. The one that Bucky came back to every night to see you. 

The one that had housed so many nights of confusion and longing and denial.

The one that had Bucky kissing the life out of you on the kitchen counter. 

He pulled away first, forehead pressed to yours. “Didn’t think I’d ever get to do that.” 

“You can do it again.” 

“Oh, I will, baby.” 

Laughter met in the air between you—sweet, short, intertwined. There was so much you wanted to tell him, so many instances like the one he shared before where you were left questioning boundaries and feelings and lines. But, you figured, there would be so many opportunities to tell him. So much time together. 

“I texted Wanda that night,” you shared, interrupting the kisses he was pressing to your cheek. “After I woke up and you had taken me back to my room.” 

He smiled against your skin. “What’d you say?” 

“I told her I was an idiot—that I was falling for the enemy.” 

Bucky ran a soft hand along the back of your head, a smirk lighting up his face. He was slotted between your legs and kept his other hand firmly pressed onto the kitchen counter, caging you in, making sure your arm didn’t hit the cabinets. 

“And is that true?” 

“I don’t know,” you hummed, connecting your foreheads once again, wanting to stay impossibly close. “Try to cure my broken bone with gatorade again and we’ll see.”

[vixonspixels]

That Girl - Trait

While prepping for my next lp I had a random thought about trying to make my own custom trait for miah ready for my lp when she's at highschool and then graduating onto university, so here we are

Model used is baby miah as a teen, she's doing some shopping after school 🥲🤍

Photo is taken with my new gshade preset that I recently made, I'll be using this preset only for this specific lp as I fancy a change from the light creamy one I normally use

Anyway...

Introducing the " That Girl Trait "... You are that girl. Every other sim wants to be just like you. You're that girl that gets up at five a.m., meditates, drinks smoothies, has showers every day, journals, eats only healthy food, goes to the gym every day and is successful in many ways

Comes with two interactions, talk about yourself and discuss latest fashion trends. Both of which can be found in the friendly category under small talk

There is a total of seven wants that I have also added, wants to take selfie, make a new friend, clean anything, discuss fitness techniques, use social networking, go for a jog and discuss cuisine. You need to have wants and fears turned on for these to show up ( game settings )

I personally love having wants and fears switched on as it adds a little extra gameplay as you end up doing things you wouldn't usually

I'll be bringing more traits and custom interactions out in the new year, and possibly even a career 🤍

Available for free over on my patreon page here

Photos below of what is included

[anantaru]

BONUS KINK — BODY WORSHIP

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

a/n. the last bonus kink is about them worshipping you just the way you deserve <3 and thank you for supporting this year's kinktober, enjoy <3

𖧡 — including — diluc, zhongli, childe, alhaitham

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, all about how much they love your body and putting your pleasure first, very passionate & rough, oral (fem! receiving), fingering

𖧡 — DILUC

the closer diluc got to his mansion, the more he realized that he had missed you this entire day— and he desires you with every inch of his being, in a special way that wasn't temporary but made him believe that love wasn't a hoax after all, and that he wasn't hard to love either, because you made him feel again.

the idea of losing you could truly ruin him.

and sometimes he catches himself become embarrassingly jealous of the glinting sun rays being eminent in the sky, for they can kiss you whenever he cannot.

a primal rush of pleasure shivers through him when he first places both hands on top of your hips, waiting for a moment and dwelling on your warm frame diffusing the stiffness of abused muscles located around his shoulders and chest as he absorbs the vibrations of your tranquil mewls into his aching body.

"i missed you, diluc," you say, "so much," before teasing his shaft with your walls and constricting ever so wonderfully, remembering the shape of his length as you wince at the additional pressure his cock sent straight into your core, clenching your muscles rhythmically that the rest of his body would shiver whilst pressed against your own, your facial expression continuously satisfied with the treatment he always gave you.

diluc clears his throat and attempts to hide the scarlet redness manifesting on his bristling cheeks, "i missed you," he whispers and emphasizes the last word with an octave higher, "been thinking about you all day," before lapping wet streaks over the areas on your neck that he knew were the most sensitive, it was the combination of one bite and a possessive huff on the wet flesh that made you whimper softly on the next thrust— not to forget that your body was simply divine to the red haired, each curve and bend reacting when he pumps you full of his cock, letting it glide smoothy in and out of your warm hole as you moan out his name, your face ecstatic with release.

you knew you wouldn't last very long, and as you continued to be fucked with diluc's precise thrusts consisting of long, slow movements, you felt a tightening in the pit of your stomach, your throbbing cunt hot and tight sealed around his shaft as it took every ounce of restraint for diluc to not just cum and release his seed to pulse in hot rivulets on your inflamed walls.

it's almost too much to bear— but alas, that was what diluc craved, and even if he didn't say anything too directly or would admit it to you, he's been secretly hard and painfully throbbing for the majority of his day that consisted of nothing but work on top of work, his pulsing erection unbearably hard and rubbing against the rough confines of his pants as he day dreamed about his current reality.

alas, he was able to feel this now, feel you now— turning it evident that he wanted to please you more than anything else, even if just for a split second.

𖧡 — ZHONGLI

lowermost the brilliant stars ablaze within the moonlight sky and a chilling draft welcoming your frames, zhongli made love to you in an unforgettable matter— and the man has found himself wholly entranced by the fullness of your beauty.

you look up at him in a daze, and your eyes were the first out of many things that drew him into complete obsession, your sultry, lowered gaze in particular— the type that appeared to be seductive without trying as he grabs your knees and hoists them over his shoulders, the new position allowing him to lean forward enough to place a passionate kiss to your dampened forehead before pushing himself deeper. 

an icy chill shoots like a cold lightning down his spine when you  exhale tremulously once he was fully inside, a proud smirk represented on his darling lips as he found himself pleased by your reactions.

the atmosphere manifests in a sensual tone, tenser, and your heart beat was pounding so fast and loud that it almost entirely dulled out the penetrative sound of your hips bucking against each other in quick, sloppy slaps. your mouth panting and eyes squeezed shut with every new meet of his cock rolling inside of your walls, your arousal sticking to his shaft and marking him sinfully— it's like those sweet traces and his hips bouncing in a steady pace ignited something inside you, your figure melting from heat when zhongli touches the very depths of you.

zhongli groaned inwardly, and by his very nature, seeing you mewl and sob, with your hips swirling up and down his cock to handle more of him, such submission was almost too erotic, and his body responds in a feral perception, his length mapping through every rill and spongy spot that his low eyes and long lashes look down on you with twisting lust, your thighs shifting against each other as his hips rock back and forth against the softness and the feeling of just how good you felt. 

𖧡 — CHILDE

"you drive me insane," for a moment, childe let his gaze follow over the soft, glimmering skin on your sensitivity, his eyes lingering on the way your cunt was practically awaiting to be claimed by him— your face contorting in pleasure when he lastly, presses a soft kiss to the pulse point on your clit, licking inside and dipping his head lower.

suckling gently, you writhe and mewl under him, your back arching up a little for an extra amount of contact from his tongue as one large hand skims over the expanse of your chest, palming over your breasts while the other prods at your hole as childe coats his chin and cheeks with a generous amount of your arousal.

"you're perfect," he mutters into your flesh, every nerve in your body quivering when he put you into the deepest sensations of euphoria— a trance of which you do not wish to be freed from, and neither does childe want to stop pleasuring you, on top of being allowed to taste your beauty on his tongue, losing all his strength as he fell head first again, just like he always did whenever he admired what was his.

he lightly traces around the tight opening, fluttering his eyes up to your face before sliding one finger inside, immediately feeling you tense down, then moan out angelically when he scissors you lightly, his tongue leisurely lapping out the very surface of your glistening folds while he keeps a steady pump on your hole, continuing his careful ministrations and pressing his digit deeper, always more, and maintaining the pleasurable torture until you would whimper at him, only the slightest bit desperate, at least that's what you believed it looked like.

you clench your jaw to brace yourself, whimpering softly at each press of his fingers hitting your sweet spots almost a little too good, the next pleasured mewl escaping your aching throat when childe seals his lips on top of your clit before trapping the tingling skin in between his mouth, sucking gently.

"ajax.." you hiss softly, "need to feel you," as he repeatedly enters you with his slender digit, the stimulation overflowing your lower area as an intense burning sensation settles on your wet sex, deliciously limiting your noises so that you're hiccuping in shattered words and phrases.

𖧡 — ALHAITHAM

"you are deliberately provoking me," there wasn't a realistic possibility for you to keep something hidden from alhaitham, and he observes you thoughtful and stoic, a devious glimmer creasing around his eyes when he pins your wrists above your head, watching your clouded expression contort in pleasure as if you wanted this to happen.

he holds you down effortlessly, and while in any other case, alhaitham wouldn't let you play him like a violin, he cannot help himself but think about how lucky he truly was— or, how utterly enchanting your figure looked even while squeezed underneath his larger one.

to know that you had this power over him was dangerous, to know that he needs you like air to breathe was lecherous, or to know that the pleasure you placed on him concealed his vision with no doubts in his mind.

momentarily, he resists the flourishing desire to pay you back with skilled teasing and a robbed orgasm when he softly soothes one palm over the curve of your trembling body and stifling a groan in his throat when he slides his tip into you, the chaste downward flutter of his long, pretty eyelashes contrasting the strong set of his jaw clenching the second he tastes the hotness of your sex engulfing him.

you take him like he was begging you to, his biceps flexing enticingly as he braces himself up for what's to come when he crowds you with his inches in slow, tantalizing movements, the hot edges of your mewls burning violently through alhaitham's lust as he moans deeply, pushing into you with a hard buck of his hips reaching your softest spots.

you shudder, a harsh bolt of heat shooting through your tensed muscles as you clench your thighs around his hips, your hands wiggling underneath his palm that were keeping them pinned as you arch your back off the mattress, unable to take control of the passion infused jolts yearning for his searing touch as his rigid cock sinks hard enough to sting with a mild pain into you that evidently enough made you unravel into a trembling, dazed mess of a person.

"fuck, ahh," the pitch of your needy moans and whines manifest into crushed tunes with each convulsing thrust into your heat twisting you apart, shuddering and spattering all aver his length as you coat him with your arousal, the liquid rush of intense thrusts hitting you from nowhere as alhaitham throws his head back in ecstasy, releasing your hands from his grasp to fuck you deeper, so you're on the brink of splitting in half from the sheer intensity.

your hands find the softness of his hair as you merely wince at him, absorbed in your own pleasure and reveling on those sweet and personal caresses that felt like his skin was fusing with your own.

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[alanaaii]

Shopping w connie.☆

!plug connie & ur just a spoiled brat.

nsfw. car sex.

“ma you know what you wearing friday?” You shook your head, scrolling on your phone. You and connie were suppose to go on one of your monthly dates this week but your closet just wasn’t giving. “I don’t have s-h-i-t in my closet.” You pull the blanket that you and connie shared on the couch. “that mean i gotta take you shopping?”

You knew what that meant—a full day with connie with no distractions. All about you you and you. Finally deciding to get up and start the day, you took a warm shower and got dressed. Sliding on some black leggings and an essentials hoodie. As you did your edges in the mirror, connie came behind you and snuck his cold fingers up your hoodie.

“connn your hands are cold” you whined as you shuffled to get his hands out. “I just wanna feel you mama”. You turn around and push his hands out. “you can feel on me when i get the stuff i want”. You was a big brat. “come on then” You and connie headed out to his all black tinted BMW. He opened the door for you as you hopped up into the passenger seat. He sat on his side and started the car and made his way to the mall.

Once y’all get there, one hand is entangled with connie’s surprisingly bigger hand and your cute pink purse in the other. “where to first ma?”

you pull connie to your favorite store.

Your eyes glowed as you saw the expensive shoes and clothes on the walls.

“pa do i have a limit?” You looked up at him, batting your pretty eyes. You knew connie would spend every last penny he had on you if it meant you would be happy. “go crazy”

And you did just that. Picking up any cute pair of jeans and putting some scandalous things for connie to see you in later. Once you were done you let the woman behind the counter scan all of your stuff. “girl i know your man love you”

All you could do was smile as connie took out a band and began to pay the total.

He grabbed your bags as you make your way out of the store. “thank you papi”. Standing on your tippy toes, you give him a small peck on his lips. “anything for you mama”.

The rest of the day consisted of you putting things in connie’s hands and him buying it.

As you two headed to the car connie was overloaded with bags. “damn ma you about to make me go broke” He huffed as he put the bags into the trunk. You were sitting in the passenger seat sipping your smoothie that you got from the food court.

As he got into opposite side, you put your hand on his perfectly tatted arm, softly rubbing it. “i’m sorry, everything was just soo pretty”. you pout. “let me make it up to you pa” You dragged your hand from his arm to his pants, feeling him stiffen at your touch. Since his car was heavily tinted nobody could see anything. (this is how you got away with everything ;) )

As you leaned into him you pressed your freshly glossed lips into his pink ones. Slowly pushing your tongue into his mouth. You snuck your hands into connie’s sweatpants and pulled out his already erected dick. His tip already moist from the precum you wrap your hand around his dick and pressed your thumb on his tip, circling it. You slowly break the kiss—a string of saliva still connecting you two.

Dipping your head down to spit on the tip before you wrap your mouth around it. Connie bit on his bottom lip, holding in his grunts. Bobbing your head up and down slowly—making those sloppy wet sounds connie adored.

Connie began to thrust his hips into your mouth. forcing you to take him down your throat, gagging on his length. “Fuck maa..jus like that..” He said in his deep raspy voice that had you weak in the knees. You feel him pulse. You knew he was close so you got on your knees and began to give him that gawk gawk combo using your hand and your mouth.

Connie slapped your ass before putting his hand in your leggings. he slid your panties to the side and rubbed your soaking wet cunt, satisfying the heat that was in your core. His long fingers prompting you go moan on his dick, the vibrations overwhelming connie. He couldn’t hold it. “‘m bout to cum ma”

He took his fingers out of you and grabbed onto your head, pushing your head down as he painted your mouth white. He groaned. “that’s my girl.”

you took one big gulp as the bitterness went away. You lifted your head up and looked at your phone camera. Ruined makeup, sweated out edges and all. “Come sit on it mama” He said lowly as he reclined his seat back.

Sliding your pants off but keeping your panties on, you move over to connie’s side and gently slid down on his dick. He grunt as he feels your gushy walls suck him in. You position yourself before you completely lose yourself. You hold onto connie’s shoulders to keep stable before starting to move. Up and down the sound of your ass clapping against connie’s thighs was like music to his ears. You desperately bounced on him, your juices dripping on the seat. (connie doesn’t mind.) You feel your cunt clench around connie as you felt his thumb rub your clit. This man knew how to make you orgasm quick. It’s like he knew every part of you like the back of his hand. Moaning his name, he put his hands around your waist and pushed you down onto him. “fuckkk”

“you gon’ cum on me mama? huh?”

You could feel your knees about to give up on you as your orgasm was coming. One final thrust and you came all over his dick. Your cum making a ring at the bottom of connie’s dick as you rode out your high. Connie press his lips onto yours to suppress your loud moans as you came down.

“i love you ma”

“i love you too con”

“another round at home?”

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