#Nico x reader

[capquinn]

Perfekt | N. Hischier

summary: When Nico’s composure slips in the heat of the moment, his soft English praises give way to raw, unfiltered Swiss German pairing: nico hischier x reader content: smut, p in v, super vanilla, MDNI word count: 2.3k note: disclaimer: an english to swiss german translator was used. apologies for any incorrect translations <3 ↪masterlist

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

“You’re not speaking English anymore,” you whisper against his lips, your fingers threading through his damp hair, nails lightly scratching against his scalp. The way he exhales, a shaky, uneven breath, sends a shiver through you.

Your lips trail away from his, moving to press soft, lingering kisses along his cheek and jaw, the faint stubble grazing your skin. He stays still, his body taut as though every nerve is focused on where you’re touching him.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

He’ll start in English, his voice calm and steady as he murmurs soft, sweet praises against your skin, like he’s savouring every inch of you. It’s deliberate, grounding, the kind of control that makes your heart race because you know exactly what it’s building toward.

But then his composure starts to crack. And when it does, it’s like a switch flips. His brain defaults to the language he grew up with, the one that feels the most natural when he’s overwhelmed and raw. It’s instinctual, spilling from his lips like a confession — Swiss German phrases so soft and quiet, they’re more exhaled than spoken. At first, it’s just a word here or there, low and rough, but as he gets closer, his control slipping further, the floodgates open.

“Mein Gott,” he breathes, the words tumbling out unbidden, barely above a whisper. My God.

His hips roll into yours with a steady, deliberate rhythm, each thrust deeper and more purposeful than the last. His chest brushes against yours with every movement, the heat of his body pressing into you as his lips graze your temple. His hands grip your hips, firm but reverent, like he’s anchoring himself in the feel of you beneath him. The drag of him inside you, the way his body moves against yours, is consuming, leaving you breathless with every deliberate grind.

“Perfekt,” he groans, the word slipping out rough and broken, his fingers tightening on your hips as he pulls you closer, deeper.

The muscles in his shoulders flex beneath your touch as your hands trace the line of his back, your nails leaving faint trails against his damp skin. His rhythm stutters, then quickens, his control slipping through the gaze of pleasure.

“Du fühlsch dich so…” You feel so… He doesn’t finish the thought, the rest of it lost in the way his lips brush against your temple, his movements growing more desperate.

“So schön,” he murmurs, the words tumbling out instinctively, his accent thick as his hips roll again, drawing a gasp from your throat. His hand slides from your hip, skimming the curve of your thigh, lifting your leg higher around his waist. The shift changes everything, his next thrust angling perfectly, hitting that spot that makes your back arch and a cry fall from your lips.

His lips find your jaw, trailing down to the curve of your neck, his breath hot and ragged as his pace grows more desperate. You feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles strain as he chases the heat between you, the flood of Swiss German spilling from his lips in a stream of reverent, unguarded words.

And then your voice cuts through the haze, soft and breathless as you murmur his name, your fingers curling in his hair. It’s not loud, but it’s enough to make him pause, his rhythm faltering until he’s completely still. He bottoms out in you, hovering above you as his forehead presses to yours, his body taut and trembling as he tries to catch his breath.

“What?” he murmurs, his voice husky and rough, his accent thicker now, like he’s too lost in you to even attempt to smooth it out.

His eyes meet yours, the flicker of uncertainty mingling with the heat still burning there. His chest rises and falls heavily, his breath warm against your lips as he waits, his hips still locked in place, his body pressing into yours like he can’t bear to pull away.

You tilt your head, your lips curving into a teasing smile before pressing softly to his. The kiss is warm, unhurried, your mouths moving together in a way that feels both grounding and electrifying. It’s a tender nudge against the tension humming between you, and you feel him melt into it, his grip on your waist easing slightly as his other hand shifts to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

“You’re not speaking English anymore,” you whisper against his lips, your fingers threading through his damp hair, nails lightly scratching against his scalp. The way he exhales, a shaky, uneven breath, sends a shiver through you.

Your lips trail away from his, moving to press soft, lingering kisses along his cheek and jaw, the faint stubble grazing your skin. He stays still, his body taut as though every nerve is focused on where you’re touching him.

When your mouth brushes over the curve of his neck, he exhales sharply, the sound low and rough. His hand tightens on your waist, his thumb digging in just enough to leave a ghost of pressure that makes heat coil low in your stomach. His hips remain still against you, but the tension radiating from him is undeniable, his restraint holding by a thread.

“Am I?” he murmurs, his voice rough, his Swiss accent thick as his lips curve into a faint smile.

You pull back slightly, your lips leaving his neck, your eyes searching his face. His are heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide as he stares down at you like he’s trying to gauge your reaction.

You nod, your lips brushing over his jaw again, lingering just long enough to feel the faint rasp of stubble against your skin.

“You are,” you whisper, voice low and warm, your fingers curling against the back of his neck, holding him close.

His breath hitches, his chest pressing harder against yours, and his thumb stills on your waist for a moment before resuming its slow, deliberate circles. His forehead lowers to yours, his breath mingling with yours as his other hand threads into your hair, his touch light but purposeful.

“Sorry,” he mutters, his voice thick and unsteady, his lips brushing yours as the word falls from him. “I didn’t even notice… Sometimes… I just forget.”

His hips shift slightly, a subtle movement that makes your breath stutter, but his pace is deliberate, almost cautious now. His lips ghost over yours, close enough to brush but not quite pressing, like he’s holding himself back.

“Why are you apologising?” you ask softly, your voice barely more than a whisper as your fingers trace the line of his jaw.

You feel the tension in his muscles soften beneath your touch, his chest heaving against yours as he tries to steady himself.

His lips twitch into another small, sheepish smile, the kind that makes your heart ache even as heat pools low in your stomach.

“Because I know you don’t understand,” he says quietly, his tone tender, raw. “I want you to know what I’m saying.”

Your breath catches at his words, your body arching instinctively against his, your lips brushing his in a fleeting, teasing kiss.

“I don’t care if I don’t understand,” you murmur, your voice steady despite the tremor in your body. “I want to hear it anyway. I want you.”

Something shifts in his expression, his eyes darkening as he lets out a low groan, his grip on your hip tightening. His thrusts slow further, each one deep and deliberate, and his forehead presses against yours as he whispers, “du bisch so schön… so perfekt.”

The words spill from his lips like a prayer, his voice raw and trembling, and though you can’t translate them entirely, the meaning is unmistakable. Beautiful. Perfect. The way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to reality, says everything.

“More,” you whisper, your nails dragging lightly down his back as your body arches into his, chasing the heat of him. “Say more.”

His lips brush against yours, not quite a kiss, just a shared breath as he obeys, his voice breaking on every word.

“Ich lieb dich… so sehr. Dass ich ned gnueg vo dir becho chan.” I love you… so much. I can't get enough of you.

Your legs lock around his waist, the motion desperate, pulling him deeper, harder, as though you’re trying to fuse every inch of him to you. He groans at the sensation, the sound raw and guttural, vibrating against your lips as his hips snap into yours. His movements shift, losing the slow deliberation that marked the start, replaced with something more primal — driven by need, by the way your body arches into his, meeting him thrust for thrust.

The drag of him is relentless, each deep, deliberate roll of his hips stealing the air from your lungs. Your nails rake down his back, leaving faint trails that make him shudder against you, a breathless curse spilling from his lips in Swiss German. His forehead presses to yours, the damp strands of his hair brushing your temple, and the shared heat between you makes everything feel sharper, more electric.

His hand moves down your side, fingers digging into your skin like he’s trying to anchor himself. When he reaches your thigh, he grips it firmly, pulling your leg higher up his waist, opening you to him in a way that makes you cry out, your head tilting back against the pillow.

“You feel — mein Gott — so gut,” he groans, his voice broken and low, his accent thick as his lips trail from your forehead to your cheek, then down to your jaw. He bites down gently, just enough to send a spark of heat through you, before soothing the spot with his tongue.

The way he’s moving now is relentless — deep, grinding thrusts that have you clinging to him, your body trembling beneath the weight of him. Every drag of him against you feels like too much and not enough, your own moans mingling with his as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.

“Perfect,” he whispers against your pulse, the word rough and reverent. His hips slam into you again, dragging another gasp from your lips, and the sound seems to push him further. “You’re so… mein… Du machsch mi verruckt…” My… You're driving me crazy…

His fingers flex against your thigh, gripping tighter as his rhythm becomes erratic, fuelled by the way your body responds to his every movement. It’s desperate and consuming, each roll of his hips pressing deeper, every breathless moan and whispered word unraveling both of you, piece by piece.

Your body trembles beneath him, every nerve alight as the tension coils tighter and tighter with each deliberate grind of his hips. It’s overwhelming, the heat pooling low in your stomach, building to the point where it feels like you might come undone at any second. His name falls from your lips in a breathless plea, the sound broken and desperate, and the way his eyes darken in response sends a fresh wave of fire coursing through you.

Nico’s movements become more frantic, less measured, his rhythm faltering as he chases the same edge threatening to pull you under. His hand tightens on your thigh, his grip firm and grounding, while the other slides beneath your back, holding you flush against him. His chest presses to yours, the damp heat of his skin against yours making it impossible to tell where you end and he begins.

“You’re so—mein Gott,” he groans, the words spilling out unbidden, raw and guttural. His forehead presses against yours, his breath uneven and ragged, his lips brushing yours with every shaky exhale. “Ich cha nöd… I can’t—ich cha nöd länger.” I can’t… I can’t last much longer.

The crack in his voice pushes you closer to the edge, the desperation in his tone mingling with the tension winding tighter and tighter inside you. Your nails dig into his shoulders, holding onto him like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded. “Don’t stop,” you whisper, your voice trembling, your legs tightening around his waist as your body arches into him.

“Ich wird nöd,” he gasps, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s searing and all-consuming. I won't.

It’s messy, desperate, his teeth grazing your lower lip before he presses deeper, stealing every breath you try to take. His hips slam into yours harder, his movements erratic and frantic now, the rhythm unraveling as his control slips.

“Ich liäb di… so sehr,” he groans against your lips, his voice breaking with every thrust. I love you… so much.

Your body tightens around him, the tension snapping like a taut string. A cry tears from your throat, raw and unrestrained, as pleasure floods through you, molten and all-encompassing. Your back arches off the bed, your legs trembling as you clutch him closer, every wave of release leaving you breathless and shaking beneath him.

The way you fall apart in his arms undoes him completely. His name tumbles from your lips, fractured and needy, and it pushes him over the edge. His hips stutter, driving deep one last time as a guttural groan escapes him. His body shudders against yours, his forehead dropping to the crook of your neck as his release rips through him, consuming him in its intensity.

“Mein Gott,” he breathes, the words trembling against your skin as his lips brush over your shoulder. “Das isch mis meitli... Braves meitli.” That's my girl… Good girl. His voice cracks on the last word, thick with emotion, and his arms tighten around you like he can’t bear to let you go.

For a long moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your mingled breathing, ragged and uneven, filling the quiet room. His body stays pressed to yours, heavy and warm, his skin damp against yours as he holds you close. His hand strokes over your thigh absently, grounding himself in the feel of you, his lips pressing soft, reverent kisses to your shoulder and collarbone.

When he finally lifts his head, his eyes meet yours, raw and unguarded, the intensity in his gaze making your breath hitch all over again. His thumb brushes over your cheek, a faint, tender smile curving his lips.

“Du bisch perfekt,” he murmurs, his voice soft but firm, his accent thick and the words carrying the weight of his love. You’re perfect.

He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, the heat between you still crackling like embers, even in the aftermath.

[willsimpforanyone]

nico x nb or female reader smut... please :(( i can't find any anywhere and i love your connor stuff i've read them like a 100 times :(((

i'm so glad u like my connor stuff! he's a lot more popular than i realised he was lmao

this is nico with a nonbinary reader, obviously both of them are adults because they have their own flat and i'm literally jealous

---------------------------------

Nico's hair has grown longer, I think to myself. Black and very slightly curly, spreading out over the pillow and easily within reach.

Far, far too tempting.

Cautiously, I reach my hand over the pillow and slip my fingers through his strands. They're silky-soft, and I twist some of it round my finger, smiling softly.

I keep going, combing through more and more of his hair until I'm gently scraping my nails over his scalp and untangling knots as carefully as I can. I'm so absorbed in my task that I don't notice a pair of dark eyes sleepily blinking open, black eyelashes fluttering at the feeling of his hair being played with.

"What're you doing?"

I have a small heart attack, instinctively smacking Nico on the shoulder in surprise. "Jesus- Nico! What the fuck?"

He laughs quietly, rubbing his shoulder where I hit him. "I literally just woke up, what is your problem?"

"You scared me!" I hiss, low and slightly raspy. "I didn't know you were awake."

He laughs again, reaching out and pawing at my hips, pulling me closer under the bedsheets. Nose to nose now, he blinks at me sleepily. "You didn't answer my question," he murmurs. "What were you doing?"

Slightly shy, I flush pink and reach one hand up to move some hair out his eyes. "I may," I whisper. "Have been playing with your hair."

"You don't sound very certain," Nico smirks, thumb absently rubbing circles up and down my ribs. I roll my eyes but grin, continuing to stroke his hair.

"It was just so pretty," I mumble, half hiding my face in the pillow. "You're a pretty guy with pretty hair, sue me."

He laughs quietly, leaning over and kissing my quickly. "I'm pretty, huh?"

"Oh, shut up." I hide my face in his neck this time, playfully tugging at the hair at the base of his head in retaliation. I freeze as I feel his breath hitch, and a wicked smile spreads over my lips.

I repeat the action, a little harder this time, and from Nico's throat crawls a moan that he clearly tried to stifle.

"Oh, that's interesting..." Three times the charm, just to check...

Pulling my head back from the crook of his neck, I look into his eyes, tugging his hair again and seeing his pale skin flare pink as he bites his lip, eyes darting anywhere but mine. Gently, I ease one of my legs between his, my hands running down his body to bring his hips closer to mine.

"Baby?" I whisper, smile playing at my lips. "Is this what you want?"

He flushes brighter, grumbling out his words. "...well I didn't know it was until about four seconds ago."

God, his voice is still sleepy and low, defenses down in this bubble of morning light and sheets and skin.

"I'm gonna take that as a yes." I dip my head back into his neck, this time deliberately to press my lips along his skin. One hand sneaks back up into his hair, tangling my fingers into his long black locks.

I lightly suck at the point just below his ear, pulling gently at his hair, and Nico jerks his hips forward, a soft gasp breathed into my ear.

"That's it," I hum against his neck, tongue darting out and over his earlobe. "Keep going, sweetheart."

With the little encouragement, Nico's hands curl around my hips, slowly starting to grind himself against my thigh. His movements are slightly unsure, but I can feel his heartbeat pounding under my lips and I smile.

My fingers thread through his hair, sending shivers down his spine. I can hear him panting slightly in my ear and I feel heat simmering deliciously under my skin. I murmur soft encouragements into his ear, rocking my hips against him and feeling his cock twitch to life in his pyjama pants.

Mouth watering, I suck the faintest marks into the side of his throat. I manipulate his head, using his hair to pull his head back so I can lave over more of his skin. He gasps loudly as his head is forced back, hips sputtering against me and fingers digging into the flesh at my waist.

"Good?" I ask softly, words breathed into his ear.

Nodding, Nico stammers out a 'y-y-es-' in the softest, sweetest voice I've ever heard from him. Evidently, sleepy Nico is okay with showing some vulnerability. It's painfully adorable and I coo softly in his ear.

"Use my thigh, baby, you look so pretty like this." I scrape my nails over his scalp, loving the low moan that spills from his lips.

His hips get steadily faster, rutting firmly against my leg as he pants, squeezing his eyes shut. My hand grips at his hair, pulling his head further back so my lips can trail under his chin and over the other side of his neck, whispering praise and endearments into his skin.

His breath hitches as I roll us slightly so I'm on top of him, kneeling with one leg still between his, pushing firmly against his cock as he keeps grinding against me.

He looks like a vision, pale cheeks blushing red, soft lips parted and brow slightly furrowed with his eyes firmly closed, so focused on the feeling of pleasure building up low in his stomach. I press my lips against his, capturing him in a firm kiss just because he looks so gorgeous.

"Look at you, so needy," I tease, ghosting the words over his lips. Nico whines, digging his nails into my waist in protest. I laugh lightly. "Okay, okay, not at all needy, this is a perfectly reasonable reaction to having your hair pulled."

He opens his eyes to scowl up at me, and for a split second I remember that this is the son of Hades I have underneath me.

"Got it, I'll shut up."

One hand still firmly in his hair, I use my other hand to hold his hips, helping him ride my thigh. I glance down to see a damp patch on Nico's pyjama pants, precum staining the fabric and I have to swallow down the sudden flood of saliva that fills my mouth. Later, definitely later.

His hips start rocking faster and harder, stomach muscles tensing and I curl my fingers in his hair, experimentally yanking harder than i have before.

"F-fuck-!" Nico swears loudly, head flying back with his back arching slightly, rutting his cock hard against my leg, the material of his pants providing delicious friction. "Mm- I'm gonna... gods above, yes..."

It takes a well-timed yank and a few more thrusts to my leg to have him coming in his pants, warmth and wetness spreading through the material and soaking my leg. He gasps, one hand slapping over his mouth to muffle his noises, the other wrapping around my arm and gripping tightly.

I let him keep using me, grinding against my leg until he's finished. I duck my head to litter soft, warm kisses over his face, smiling and incredibly pleased with myself.

"You okay, Neeks?" I murmur, brushing my lips over his nose.

It takes a moment for his muscles to stop spasming and his breathing to even out, but eventually Nico moves his hand away from his mouth to reveal a small smile.

"Uh huh," he sighs, blinking up at me in a post-orgasm haze. "'m good, very good."

Releasing his hair from my grip, I stroke over his cheek and kiss him sweetly. "Good. Might want to get changed."

Looking down, he groans at the rapidly cooling, cum-stained pyjamas he's now wearing. "Ugh, gross." He looks up at me, grinning sleepily. "You're getting me new pyjamas, by the way. Off you go, the closet is there. You turn me on, you get me off, you deal with the consequences."

I roll my eyes but grin in return, reluctantly leaving the warm bed for the closet. "You're so lucky I love you."

---------------------------------------

was this good? did i write a good smut? i haven't written in so long i don't know if this is good. anyway, thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoyed!

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

DRABBLE: THEY’RE YOUR BLIND V-DAY DATE ❤️🍷💕 (CROSSOVER ANIME) (18+) (For Black!Fem!Readers)

Writer’s Note: Got another something for V-Day for y’all. I decided to do one for multiple anime characters cuz I’m a slut for all them 2D characters & couldn’t decide on one specific show lol. Plus it sounded fun! And important disclaimers I’ll just make a note of before the actual Drabble. I hope y’all enjoy! ☺️🥰 -Jazz

********

LEVI ACKERMAN (AOT)

The first night, you’re nervous, to say the least, especially when Hange warns you about his appearance. 

“Why?” you had asked over margaritas and tacos, already perplexed and slightly unnerved by her warning. “Is he really ugly or something?” 

Hange, sitting across from you in her glasses with her locks of long, chestnut brown hair cascading down her shoulders, shook her head. “No, no, my dear!” she immediately protested. “He’s actually quite handsome despite the broody thing. But he does have some scars from a mission gone wrong at his job and he’s blind in one eye.”

She took a sip of her margarita as if to soften the next blow. “And he’s missing a leg,” she finished. 

You were taken aback, to say the least, but you didn’t let that stop you. You aren’t prejudiced and you refused to let that stop you from at least giving Hange’s friend a chance.

Apparently, Levi has been a firefighter for a couple of years and has recently broken up with a longtime girlfriend, so Hange figured he could get back into the dating pool and realize that there are great girls out there starting with you! 

So the weekend of Valentine’s Day, Hange texts you the name of the restaurant and you take an Uber there after spending the entire day doing your hair, picking out an outfit, and giving yourself a makeover. You decided on a soft glam look as this is the first time you’re meeting the guy and a pretty, red dress that hugs your frame and zips in the back. 

When you get out of the Uber in front of the quaint and low-key yet romantic restaurant, you take a table near the door so it’ll be easier to see Levi walk in and flag him down. You still have no idea what he looks like, only that he’ll be wearing a black trench coat, he’s kinda short, and he has a large scar going over his eye.

“His team calls him Scar, apparently,” Hange laughed. “It helps that he has a smooth, deep voice too!” 

You admit that you were curious to see him and hear that “smooth, deep” voice she told you about. So you sit and order a glass of wine, waiting for his arrival as you stare out at the passing cars and people…only he never comes.

You wait and you wait and you wait, but he never shows his face. You call Hange, thinking maybe you have the wrong restaurant or time or day, but all is correct. You think that maybe he’s in traffic or something came up, but Hange never calls to tell you either. 

When your appetizer comes and the candle sitting in the middle of the table begins to melt, you feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach. You’ve been stood up.

The realization hits you like a brick to the face. Quickly, you order the check and a box for your food and pay the waiter before running out of the restaurant in tears. You feel stupid. Wasteful. Foolish in your pretty dress and heels. 

Hange comes over to see you with the quickness when you tell her that night, ice cream and face masks in tow. “I can’t believe him!” she says, enraged, with a sheet mask on her face. “He told me he’d be there and then he doesn’t show up? Who does he think he is? Why, I’m gonna give that man a piece of my–“ 

“Don’t Hange,” you sigh, shoveling another spoonful of ice cream into your mouth. “Just leave it be. He probably just changed his mind or wasn’t ready.”

You are ready to move on and forget it, but the universe doesn’t let you. A week later while at work of all places, you get an unknown call. Thinking it’s one of those scammers, you give a sharp “hello”. 

“Uh…hi,” a smooth, deep, velvety voice replies. “This is Levi, Hange’s friend. This is Y/N, correct?”

You heart drops into your ass and it takes a moment for you to reply. “Uh, y-yeah,” you answer. “Yeah, this is her. You’re Hange’s friend? Did you get my number from her?” 

“I had to,” Levi replies, his voice making your stomach do flips. “I’m sorry if that’s weird, but I just…”

He pauses, sighing. “I had to talk to you,” he finishes, sounding completely beaten. “I’m so sorry for not coming last week. I was so afraid for you to see me because of my appearance. I was so sure you'd find me unattractive and not like what you see. I’m very insecure in that and I let it get the best of me, but that doesn’t mean you deserved that. Hange already went up my ass about it.” 

You softly giggle, knowing she would. "So, if you don’t despise me too much and you’re willing, can we meet up for dinner this Friday night if you’re free?”

He sounds hopeful and slightly afraid. You don’t know why you say yes, but you do and you make plans to meet for ramen on Friday. When the day comes, you wear a more casual outfit–-a pretty cashmere sweater, jeans, and some boots––but still style your hair and makeup to look presentable. ‘Second time’s a charm, I guess,’ you think. 

It’s a dry, cool night so you wait outside the restaurant for Levi to arrive, texting him that you’re there prior to your arrival. Ten minutes into waiting, you think he isn’t going to show and that he duped you again, but then your phone rings. Your heart leaps at the sight of his caller ID and you answer. “Hello?” you answer, noticing how breathless you sound. 

“Look up,” Levi says and you do, seeing him standing before you across the street under a streetlight.

The soft light illuminates his features: a sharp jawline and cheekbones, soft, pale skin, one eye the color of a gray ocean, and the other milky where a long scar runs from his eyebrow to his cheek. He walks towards you slowly with a slight gate in his step, his hand on his left leg where his prosthetic is, and finally makes it over to you. He is extremely attractive and smells like toasted vanilla.

“You’re Y/N, I take it?” he asks, a small smile on his face. 

“And you’re Levi,” you reply, your heart battering against your ribcage.

He gives a slight nod, his one eye roaming over your frame. “My God, you’re stunning,” he chuckles as if he can hardly believe it. “Even more than that the first night. I had come, but I never went into the restaurant. I was so intimidated by the way you looked that I just–“ 

“Stop,” you interrupt, not liking the thought of him standing outside looking into the restaurant window at you, feeling so horrible about his looks.

“That was then and this is now. And you’re wrong, by the way.”

One of Levi’s eyebrows raises in confusion. “I do like what I see,” you say, your voice soft and shy. “For the record, you’re one of the sexiest guys I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” 

The laugh Levi lets out just about fills you with joy and you just about melt before he holds the door for you to enter the restaurant, not so discreetly staring at your ass as he does.

NANAMI KENTO (JJK)

He’s a professor and he’s a blonde is what you’re told by Gojo…but that’s about all he tells you, the asshole. 

“You’re asking me to go on a date with a dude I don’t even know and you won’t even tell me what he looks like?”

You’re sitting with him at brunch with bottomless mimosas when he runs it by you. You get the feeling he just invited you out with the promise of mimosas, good omelettes, and paying just to toss this at you. 

Gojo gives you his big, gigawatt smile as he sits across from you wearing his usual shades. “Trust me, babe! He’s a good and attractive guy! If I wasn’t taken, I’d fuck him myself.” He snorts to himself, shoveling some eggs into his mouth. “But I don’t even think I’m his type.” 

From what you gathered at the start of brunch, Kento Nanami is Gojo’s very stoic, very introverted, very lonely friend who is in need of a date this upcoming Valentine’s Day. Though intelligent and handsome, Nanami isn’t too good with women and hasn’t been in a romantic relationship is quite some time.

“I swear, he’s not an incel,” Gojo swears, one hand on his heart and the other held high. “He loves women! He’s just…awkward.” 

You aren’t sure if you like that answer. “What if I meet him and I don’t like him?” you ask, taking a break from your mimosa. “I mean, I’m only agreeing to this because you said you’d pay me.”

And Gojo did. He figures you’re the perfect girl––smart, pretty, and funny––to bring Nanami out of his shell. “$50,” he sing-songs. “And if you hate his guts, you'll get another $50, I promise. But give him a chance, Y/N! He needs it!” 

To not hear him whine and beg, you roll your eyes and agree. Gojo arranges for you to meet with Nanami at a winter light show in the park that is done every year. It’s the perfect place to meet since it’s romantic and very populated.

You dress in your warmest and cutest coat before hurrying to meet Nanami, your boots crunching in the snow. The park is decorated in twinkling lights that line the trees, walkways, and fountains. 

You’re so enchanted by the lights that you barely see the slick of ice lining the sidewalk. You misstep and your left foot goes skidding. “Oh, shit!” you gasp as you fall, but you don't feel the ground or the cold snow.

You don’t feel anything at all except two warm, strong arms wrapped around you. You look up into the warm eyes of an older man. An older, extremely attractive man with a blonde undercut and wearing a tan wool coat. “Are you alright, miss?” he worriedly asks. His voice is deep yet warm and sweet like honey.

You’re so taken by the stranger that you barely notice that he has set you upright. “Um…yeah,” you answer albeit softly. 

You blink at him, noticing how tall and well-built he is behind his coat. His hands are strong and capable and you find yourself staring at them even when he shoves them into his pocket. “Nanami?” you hesitantly question.

You watch his darker blonde brows furrow in confusion then rise in realization. “You’re Y/N,” he realizes. “Forgive me. Gojo didn’t tell me what you’d look up or what you’d be wearing.” 

You think you see his eyes trailing over you, but you can’t focus on it for too long. “That’s okay,” you laugh. “That’s Gojo, for you. How do you know him?”

Nanami begins to walk with you to the line at the entrance gate to enter the event, keeping the same slow pace as you. “We went to the same high school and remained friends ever since. How did you meet him?” 

“We met through a mutual friend and just clicked,” you explain. “Her name is Shoko.” Recognition crosses Nanami’s face at the name. “Shoko?” he asks, a light flickering in his eyes. “I know her as well. We all went to the same school.” 

“What a coincidence!” you giggle, glad to have something to break the ice (other than your fall). “Thank you again for helping me. I know I’m dumb for wearing these things in the snow.” You nod down at your heeled boots to which Nanami only stares at, never smiling. His expression is unreadable and slightly intimidating. But you can tell it’s just awkwardness. Now you see what Gojo meant. 

But rather than be unnerved by it, you find yourself wanting to break through it. You want to get to the warm core of this man. “Um…should we walk?” you ask, nodding at the entrance gate. Nanami nods but looks slightly worried.

“Will you be alright?” he asks, still staring at your feet. “You may want to hold onto me.” He offers you his arm, a slight tinge of pink to his cheeks that one could pass off for the cold. Your heart leaps at the chance to touch him, even be near him. 

“What a gentleman,” you chuckle. “I didn't think chivalry still existed.” You take his coat sleeve and let him lead you through the entrance into the park’s first trail.

A chuckle that makes your stomach flip and your pussy leap leaves Nanami’s mouth. “I wouldn’t say all of that but thank you. I would just think I’m being a good human being. So Gojo told me about your job. What is that like?” 

The park is truly beautiful, decorated head to toe with lights that twinkle and dance. But you’re not focusing on the lights; just Nanami and his conversation. For such a stoic guy, he can really hold a conversation.

He tells you all about his job as a professor and his students; what subjects he likes; his life outside of work. He asks you about you and all of your habits, hobbies, and joys. He listens intently, putting them all in his brain’s filing cabinet. You find similarities about each other, including favorite books, movies, and your love for the beach. 

The date lasts for an hour and you enjoy every minute of it. You like being around Nanami, enjoying his stale humor and shy smile. More than anything, you like his presence.

You like how soft his wool coat feels under your finger. You like how he keeps his arm at reach, even when you release him at times. You like how he keeps the same pace as you, never walking too fast and always staying at your side, his black leather shoes tapping against the concrete.

You’re feeling him and you want to let him know that when you finally reach the end of the park where the last attraction, an ice sculptor decorated in lights, stands. 

“Wow,” you sigh. “So pretty.” 

Nanami stands next to you as you stare up in awe at the attraction. “Yes,” he agrees, though he isn’t looking at the lights. His attention is solely on you.

He likes the way the lights illuminate your skin which contrasts with his. He likes the brown of your eyes, so warm and tempting like chocolate. He likes your humor and sweet laugh. He likes you and he isn’t too shy to show it. You can see it when you turn and find him already staring at you, bold and heated. 

He is sexy. He is alluring. And you want him. “Nanami?” you shyly ask.

His eyebrows raise, acknowledging your question. You turn to him fully and stare up at him through your lashes. “I don’t usually do this, but…would you want to come home with me?”

He is silent, staring at you wordlessly, and your stomach flips with discomfort. “For coffee, maybe?” you add. 

Nanami doesn’t have to be asked again.

To end such a perfect date, you find yourself on your back with Nanami on top of you, looking so handsome above you as he pounds your pussy into the mattress. His big hands pin your thighs apart and up to his broad shoulders, your painted toes and skin contrasting deliciously with his lighter skin.

“So pretty,” he groans. “You were the prettiest thing there tonight. Fuck, darling, you’re so tight!” 

He thrusts into you harder, faster, making the bed squeak and you lose your voice from how loud you moan. You can feel yourself about to cum after so much foreplay and stimulation (Nanami is a gentle lover).

“Kento,” you whine, digging your nails into his shoulders. “I’m gonna cum! Please…please cum with me!” 

And he does. At the sound of you begging, he bursts inside of you with a ragged groan as you cum all over his big cock, your pussy walls squeezing around him and stroking his shaft.

As you do, his lips find yours, giving you a passionate kiss that could melt the ice with how hot it is. 

NICO ROBIN  (One Piece)

*Note: Reader is plus-sized! 

Nami swore up and down that you needed to go on a date for Valentine’s Day to forget about your short-term “situationship”. 

“Just give a chance, Y/N,” she said to you over ramen. She treated you to lunch at the best ramen place in town while you were on your work break. “It’s just for one night and I can’t stand the thought of my best friend alone on Valentine’s Day! And she’s a great girl, seriously!” 

You looked down at your bowl of ramen, feeling hot under your sweater dress that clung to your plump body. The idea of a blind date didn’t appeal to you much, especially being such a big girl. Usually, when people got a look at you, they either ghosted you after the first date or didn’t give you the time of day. Why did she think this was a good idea?

“Just be careful,” Zoro said, shoveling spicy miso ramen into his mouth. “She’ll charm the pants off of you…or skirt…whatever you’ll be wearing.” Nami smacked him on the the arm hard, making the green-haired hunk hiss in pain. “Don’t listen to him, honey. Robin is just a sweet-talker. You have nothing to worry about!” 

But when you finally get a look at your date, you don’t think that’s true. Nami set the date up at a high-scale bar where the working class and hotshot businessmen come for happy hour.

When you walk in, you immediately feel self-conscious despite looking oh-so yummy in your waistband coat that flares around your waist and pink dress that makes your skin and brown eyes pop. But the dress also sticks to your body, accentuating each curve, ripple, and roll. Though your stomach ripples with nerves, you also feel slightly confident catching eyes under the warm lights above. 

You sit at the sleek bar and order yourself a cocktail to loosen up a bit more while you search for your date at the door. Nami only told you that she’s “tall with long black hair and might be wearing purple”.

You’re curious as to what this girl is like and if she likes what she sees. You sip on your cocktail and scroll through your phone for a couple of minutes, completely unaware of the eyes you have captured from down at the bar. 

When you turn around in your stool to place your glass down, you find another cocktail sitting behind you. Confused, you flag down the bartender. “I didn’t order this,” you tell him, pushing the glass towards him. “It was sent to you,” he explains. “From down at the bar.” You look in that direction, but find no one paying any attention to you. “But I have a date,” you protest. “I can't accept this.” 

“That’s correct,” a sweet yet smooth and sultry voice purrs behind you, “and it’s usually rude to deny a drink from her.” The voice causes your body to react instantly: the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end; your heart pounds in your chest; your stomach flips. You turn and see your blind date standing behind you in the flesh. 

Beautiful isn’t a word to use for Robin. She is absolutely stunning. A straight vixen oozing confidence and poise as she stands behind you in a purple cocktail dress that illuminates her soft, pale skin and blue eyes that steal the air from your lungs.

She is tall and slender with piano fingers painted in a dark rouge that you want to feel wrapped around your body, but has a rack that can stop traffic and is definitely catching eyes. Her long, shiny, black locks of hair cascade down her slender shoulders, catching the light above. You are in awe of her and her beauty as are the others in the bar. 

“Y/N?” she asks in her alluring voice. Wordlessly, you nod and close your mouth to avoid looking like an idiot. “I’m Nico Robin, Nami’s friend. She’s told me so much about you.” She puts a slender hand out to shake yours, giving you a whiff of her luxurious-smelling perfume and a peek of golden Tiffany bracelet. 

You put your hand in hers, feeling warm from her touch. “N-Nice to meet you,” you stutter. “Please, have a seat. Do you want a drink?” Robin raises her brows questionably as she settles onto a stool next to you. You flush under the lights, thanking God that he made you Black. “It’s only right since you ordered me one.” 

Robin smiles, her pearly whites and dimples making you damn near melt. “How sweet of you,” she giggles. She orders herself a dirty Martini with extra olives and thanks you again when it comes. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting. I got caught up in some work.” She slowly crosses her soft, long, milky legs over one another. You do your best not to stare. 

You give her a smile, pretending that you’re not turned the fuck on by her, and lean your elbow against your chin. “So you’re an archaeologist, right? That’s such an interesting job.”

She smiles at the compliment and at the mention of her career as you sip your cocktail. “Well, I’ve always been attracted to history since I was young. I’m attracted to intelligence too, which you seem to have a lot of.” Her smile turns flirty and now you know what Zoro was talking about. You’re already charmed by her. “Tell me: what’s your job like?” she asks. 

Your conversations last for hours and flow perfectly, especially after you get your second drink in you. You tell her about your job and quietly gush over her curiosity and awe, realizing how much she loves learning. You talk about everything, from city life to books to anime, learning that you both love magical girl anime, especially Sailor Moon.

You didn't expect that from Robin because of how poised she is and her love for dark colors, but as soon as you mention Sailor Moon, her eyes widen in excitement. “I love Sailor Moon!” She laughs. “I cosplayed as Sailor Mars two Halloweens ago. I bet you’d look so pretty as a Sailor Scout, especially with the skirt.” 

That’s another thing you learn about Robin: she’s a flirt. She sneaks in little sly compliments to obviously make you flustered…and it’s working. You try to do the same, complimenting her on her outfit and her smile. “I can see why everyone is so fond of you in here,” you say, nodding at the group of businessmen playing pool who are not so discreetly staring at you both from across the room.

Robin giggles, turning back to you with a hooded gaze. “Too bad,” she sighs, not at all sounding disappointed. “I’m here with you.” 

As the night goes on, it gets looser as you both become more comfortable with each other. You talk about everything and anything, telling each other funny stories and showing pictures of your pets. “You’re a dog mom too?” you coo, gushing over her wallpaper of her and a fluffy, brown animal dressed as Santa Claus though he has pointed ears and horns.

“Reindeer mom,” she corrects you and titters at your confusion. “It’s a long story, but that’s my perfect little boy. His name is Chopper.” 

Other than Robin being a sweet-talker as Nami said, you also find out many other things about this alluring, attractive woman. Like how much she loves plays and Disney movies, becoming so excited when you ask her about her favorite films. “I love musicals,” she shyly says, an endearing blush on her face. “Can you tell I’m a secret theatre kid?”

Or how she tends to ramble about information she’s obtained from books and documentaries about tribes long gone and age-old urban legends. You could listen to her talk for hours. Unbeknownst to you, she feels the same about you whenever you speak about yourself and your interests. 

As the alcohol takes its affect on you both, she also tells you that she’s a devil fruit user, a term you’ve heard before since many in the world are, including your mutual friend Luffy. When you ask her about her ability, she just winks behind her third martini glass. “A woman never draws all of her cards…not all at once, anyway.” 

As the night draws on, so do the drinks and soon, you’re feeling loose and bold. You decide to show her your hidden talent which is rolling your eyes to the right and the left. “I can wiggle my ears too,” you say, showing her much to her amusement. She applauds you, giggling at your talent. “My, you’re full of surprises,” she giggles. “And so am I.” 

You suddenly feel something tickling your sides and look down to see two disembodied hands tickling you. Robin’s hands. You look at her in shock as she retracts her extra arms, using them to grab her third martini and take a sip. “The perks of being a devil fruit user,” she chuckles. At the sight of your expression, she grows concerned. “Do they frighten you?” 

“No,” you answer honestly. “They’re…” You stare at her extra hands, wondering how many more she has and how they would feel on your body. “Pretty,” you decide to answer with. That is enough for Robin to decide what she wants from you tonight. 

So when you’re both still sitting there when the bar is emptying out, she makes it known. “Oh, dear,” she sighs, exhaling in disappointment as the bartenders clean and the drunk crowd empties out. “It appears that our date has become to an end.” She turns to you, placing a warm hand on yours. “I really enjoyed meeting you, Y/N,” she says, a smile on her face that makes you ache. 

You don’t want tonight to end. You don’t want her to go. You need more of her touch. She seems to understand and see the mutual disappointment in your eyes because she doesn’t release your hand.

“Unless you want this night to continue,” she adds, her voice like honey in your ears. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t very attracted to you too, unless I’m mistaking the chemistry.”

You can’t speak, so you shake your head and her eyes twinkle. She leans in toward you, engulfing you in her scent. “Just say the words and I’ll go with you,” she whispers into your ear. 

Desire overwhelms you and you squeeze her hand, interlacing your fingers. “I’ll call a Lyft,” you exhale. Robin smiles, keeping her hand in yours. 

She doesn’t let go even hours later when your fingers are interlaced with each other while your legs are pinned open by her extra hands on the bed. Your moans and whimpers fill the darkness of your bedroom as she moves her tongue against your clit, moaning eagerly and sloppily into your pussy as she eats you like there is no tomorrow.

“Now I can really show you how good I am with my hands,” she giggles, looking up at you between your thighs. “You’re so cute like this, pretty girl.” 

You can feel that knot in your core tightening the more she moves her jaw, going faster and faster until you have no choice. “Robin,” you whine. “I'm gonna…gonna…!” Your back arches and your legs shake around Robin’s face. 

Her hold on you tightens, her hands gripping your thighs.“Cum for me, gorgeous,” she hums. “I’ve got you. Cum all over my face like a good girl.”

One thing is for sure while you gush around Robin’s face, loving how she eagerly laps up everything you give her: another date is definitely in the future for you and her.

PRO!KATSUKI BAKUGOU & KIRISHIMA EJIROU (BHNA)

*Note: Reader is plus-sized & a bimbo! 

*Disclaimer: Bakugou & Kiri are both aged-up (over the age of 18) in this drabble! 

You don’t know why you agreed to do this blind date thing, but your friend put you up to it after she reminded you of your NY resolution to try new things to help yourself. 

“You need to put yourself out there more, girl!” she argued over the phone with you. “Do you see how hot you are?! You deserve to have someone on your arm!” You pouted as you painted your toe nails a pretty bubblegum pink, your feet hanging over you bathtub smelling like vanilla bubblebath. 

Though she is right about you deserving a nice guy to tell you how pretty you are, most of the guys you dated either used you as arm candy, hit in then quit it, or just stopped talking to you because of your, uh…bimbo-ness. You know you have no filter and sometimes you do come off as dumb, but you’re trying your best! And you’re kind and the sweetest person anyone will ever meet! Isn’t that enough? 

“Yeah, but a blind date though?” you complained into the phone sitting on your sink. “How am I gonna go on a date if I can’t see, girl?” You gasped, even more mortified. “Or will my date be blind?! How will be able to see me and my cute outfit?!” 

Your friend just laughed. She knows you’re not the brightest crayon in the box, but you’re just too cute and sweet. “Honey, no! A blind date is when you meet someone you’ve never seen or met before. Someone else sets the date up for you.”

Your heart resumed its normal pattern and you relaxed into the water. “Ohhh,” you realized with a giggle. “Well, if you’re setting it up, can you tell me anything about him?”

Your friend refused, much to your dismay. “Nope, but you’ll meet him later this week. Saturday night at 7 PM, don’t be late. I’ll give you all the details before then.” You hung up, a bit nervous but excited, already picturing your outfit for the day. 

The Saturday of Valentine’s Day weekend, you go to the cafe your friend tells you to go to which is only a few blocks from your apartment. You dress in a pink sweater that does nothing to hide your voluptuous bosom and a pretty, cherry red skit that hugs your tummy and voluptuous ass, the damn thing so short that the ruffles stop mid-thigh, a sliver of your asscheeks seen whenever you bend over. You pair your V-Day outfit with some warm stockings and high black boots before putting on your favorite fluffy, pink coat. 

An hour later after putting on some vanilla-scented body spray and giving your lips a slick of your favorite Fenty Gloss in a sparkly pink, you stand in line to order your food, hoping that will ease your nerves over today. Because your friend loves you so much, she set you up for two dates today: one at the cafe and the other later tonight at your favorite bar.

Your first date is a redheaded hunk, according to your friend. “He’s got red hair and he’s a fucking giant,” she giggles. “And he’s SUPER fine. You’ll know him when see him.” You melted at the details. “I do like big guys,” you sigh dreamily. Your second date is just as fine, but a hothead. “My friend works with him at his agency and apparently, he’s got a mouth.” Your friend rolled her eyes. "The dude is like a pit bull, but he's so fucking sexy.” 

“I’m a little nervous though,” you mumbled, starting to feel insecure. “You think he’ll like me?” Your friend looked at you like you were insane, making you laugh. “Who wouldn’t? You’re adorable!” 

And you feel adorable when you go next to the counter and the cashier’s eyes shoots straight to your tits. You don’t notice, too busy feening for some sweet, sugar coffee. “Hi, can I please get a peppermint mocha latte with two pumps of caramel, please?” You are so damn cute that the guy blushes and quickly rings you up. You pay and thank him when you get your drink before walking off, but stop when something captures you. 

There, hidden behind a glass container behind the counter, are a bunch of seasonal-flavored doughnuts lined up in a row. Your eyes immediately go for the one coated in pink frosting, powdered sugar, and red and pink sprinkles. “Oooh,” you coo to yourself. “So pretty.” 

“Agreed,” says a raspy, sexy voice from behind you. You turn a little too quickly and a bit of coffee sloshes over the top of your drink and onto the crotch of the guy standing behind you. “Oops, I’m so sorry!” you gasp. “I didn’t even see you! Oh, it’s gonna stain! Here, quick!” You quickly reach for a wad of napkins and begin to dab at the man’s crotch, not even realizing how it looks. 

Still not even bothering to look up, the blonde furiously blushes while the redhead behind him stifles a laugh. “That’s quite okay,” he chuckles. “At least now he smells like peppermint down there.” The blonde growls like he wants to commit murder. “Plus, Katsuki was standing way too close to you in line, weren’t you, ‘Suki?” 

You hand the napkins over to the blonde, hyper-focused on the nickname. “‘Suki,” you giggle. “That’s such a cute…” Your words die in you when you finally, finally, look up into the eyes of the two finest, sexiest men you’ve ever seen in your life.

One of them has long, red hair cascading down his broad shoulders, fanged teeth that flash at you as he smiles, friendly, crimson eyes, and piercings––dangling from his ears, embedded in his eyebrow, and snakebites in his bottom lip.

The other sports a platinum blonde undercut and a scowl that slightly softens at the sight of you. He, too, has crimson eyes that widen at your pretty face and outfit and one piercing in his plump bottom lip. The only things similar about the duo are how tall, buff, and sexy they both are. “Name,” you weakly finish. “I-I’m Y/N.” 

The redhead grins, putting his big ass hand out for a shake. “Ejirou,” he says, “but my friends call me Kiri.” You do so, noticing how calloused his palm is and how much his sweater stretches against his pecs. The blonde has the same issue, his V-neck shirt way too tight for his toned body. “Bakugou,” he grumbles, giving you an intense stare that makes you melt on the inside. 

Those gears in your head start turning and you gape at the duo. “Wait…I know you two!” you gasp. “You guys are those superheroes, right? Dynamight and Red Riot!” Kiri tosses his head back and laughs while Bakugou glares daggers at you. “Damn, could you be any louder?” he growls. You cover your mouth, flushing with embossment. “Sorry!” you whisper. "I’m just a big fan of you two! I almost didn’t recognize you in normal clothes. I have your posters and all of your merch!” 

Kiri gives Bakugou a look that he would seeing a cat do something cute. And that is what you are: a cute little kitty. Something adorable and sweet yet you have a sexiness to you that both men are coming to find. “Well, it's always a pleasure to meet a fan. Especially such a cute one.” He grins at the way you giggle bashfully. “I’m guessing you’re a fan of sweets? Me too. I was actually planning on getting one of those for my boyfriend, my date, and I.” 

You notice Kiri gaze at Bakugou when he says “my boyfriend” and you quietly gush to yourself. “Oh, you two are dating?” you coo, much to Bakugou’s dismay. He’s so cute when he blushes! “That’s so sweet! Here, I’ll treat you guys to ‘em to make up for that nasty spill.” 

Kiri is just about ready to scoop you up and take you home with them when you dig into your bag for your Hello Kitty wallet. “Well, isn’t that sweet? You up for somethin’ sweet, Katsuki?” 

Though Bakugou feels the same way, he still wants to feel you out and see if this “bimbo-esque” personality you’ve got going on is a fake. “It’s whatever,” he grumbles. “But you’d better get me the chocolate one. I don’t want the one with all of those sprinkles and shit on it.” You vigorously nod, taking out some cash. “You got it!” you giggle and hand them the cash. After getting back in line, Kiri orders one chocolate and two strawberry donuts and his and Bakugou’s drinks. 

You thank the cashier when she hands you each pastry individually wrapped in a paper bag, nice, warm, and toasty from the oven. You turn to the pros and hand them the treats. “Here you guys go,” you sweetly say. Bakugou grumbles as he takes his while Kiri gives you a big gigawatt grin. “Thanks, cutie,” he chuckles. You expect them to start eating them, but you’re shocked when Bakugou hands one of the strawberry ones to you. 

You freeze, confused. “But…this is for your date,” you say, completely clueless. “Aren’t you gonna give it to them?” Bakugou pinches the bridge of his nose like a dad with a dumbass child. “Oh, my God,” he groans. Kiri thinks it’s endearingly hilarious, holding his stomach as he laughs. “You are our date, silly girl!” he giggles. “Well, mine, technically. Your friend set us up to have dates with you at different times today, but we both just came together since we’re dating. I hope that’s cool.” 

You gape at them, wondering if they’re serious. Two of the hottest pros on a date with you? At the same time?! You just about squeal with excitement. “Sure!” you giggle, your heart leaping for joy. “The more, the better! Let’s go sit down so we can get to know each other more.” 

The two are happy to oblige. Kiri picks out a table in the back that is more secluded and near the window for the sights. Before you sit, you turn to Katsuki with an apologetic pout. “I’m sorry again about the spill, Bakugou.” 

The blonde cuts his eyes at you and you can't tell what he’s thinking due to how permanent his scowl is. But that changes when he pulls your chair out for you. “Katsuki,” he replies. “And stop mentionin’ it. Besides, I know some other way you can make up for it later…maybe with your number.” He gives you a lopsided smirk that makes you tingle between your thighs. 

“Chill,” Kiri cuts in, rolling his eyes. “Sorry about him. We don’t usually flirt too hard on the first date…but you’re just too cute to resist.” He boldly looks you up and down, tugging lightly on his bottom lip. You wonder what else he can do with his mouth as the cafe’s atmosphere becomes more tense between the three of you. “Well, I could say the same about you two,” you purr, a shy giggle leaving your lips. 

That’s what the duo want to hear. Bakugou’s smirk widens, a twinkle in his vermillion eyes. “Glad the feelin’ is mutual, mama,” he whispers. “So you sittin’ or what? My fuckin’ coffee’s gettin’ cold.” You do so and you never want the date to end…unless it’s to spend more time with them in private.

NICHOLAS "NICO" BROWN (GANGSTA!)

You stand outside of a jazz club one chilly night, watching the passersby and wondering which one may be your blind date. 

Worick told you all about his friend, Nico, but you’ve never met him before. You only know that the two work together and have known each other since childhood. You’ve only known Worick for two years after he helped you out of a messy financial situation with your asshole ex-boyfriend who, according to Worick, nearly shat himself when Worick threatened to bring Nico in to handle things.

Apparently, Nico is well-known throughout the town for being an extremely threatening and intimidating figure. 

Why in the fuck would Worick want to set you up with someone like that? “He’s a cool dude, really!” he assured you over coffee. “Just…quiet. And it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s deaf. He’s just a quiet guy; a little awkward; introverted…” 

‘Not to mention threatening and intimidating,’ you thought to yourself. “And you thought I was just perfect for this guy?” you scoffed. “What will we even talk about? How can I talk to him if he’s so quiet?” 

“If you ask him something, he’ll answer you,” the handsome blonde replied. “And don’t worry too much about signing. He can read lips, but just make sure you slow down with your words.” Though Worick knows you know sign language due to your father being deaf since you were an infant. He can tell you’re still hesitant to say yes and folds his hands into a prayer.

“C’mon, sweetie,” he begs. “The guy has NEVER been on a Valentine’s Day date before and his last girlfriend was a fucking bitch who dumped him because he was deaf. All she wanted was his massive dick…sorry.”

He apologized when he saw your reaction. You didn’t need to know that his childhood friend has a big dick! ….Though you are curious to know just how big. “He needs someone kind, considerate, and sweet. You fit the bill! Just give him a chance, please?” 

Before you agreed, Worick told you all about Nico’s ex, happy to do so when you asked. Apparently, she was the daughter of a rich family that he and Worick were in charge of guarding for a couple of months. She and Nico grew closer, had a sexual relationship, and Nico caught feelings while she didn’t, claiming it was because she didn’t want to date someone deaf due to it being “too much work”. You felt bad for Nico, especially when hearing how much it hurt him. 

“You’re lucky I love you,” you sighed at Worick’s pleading stare. He clapped his big, calloused hands and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Love you too, sweetie,” he chuckled. “I’ll fill you in on the details later this week.” 

He instructed you to meet Nico at an underground jazz club that Nico particularly likes for its seclusion and because no one bothers him too much in there. You dressed in a simple cocktail dress, flats and a cardigan to keep warm in the chill. Combined with your styled hair and soft makeup, you think you look pretty. You hope this “Nico" person thinks so too. When you look down the street among the other stores and taverns, you see a man walking up the road and you immediately know that your date has arrived. 

He is big. Huge! The man is nothing but bulky muscle hidden beneath his black tee, baggy jeans, and leather jacket standing at six-foot-something. He towers over you as he gets closer, so much so that you have to look up at him to actually look at his face. You can see why he's so intimidating.

Other than his height and build, Nico carries himself with a roughness and a confidence that is unshakeable and undeniable. It’s scary…yet also thrilling. Kinda sexy too. 

Under the soft glow of the street lamps, you get a good look at his features: he has a soft tan to his skin, thick, soft-looking lips, and eyes a deep, dark chocolate that you can get lost in forever. Silver dog tags hang from his thick neck that has your blood going hot and slight scars and bruises that you can see on his knuckles. You wonder, briefly, how he got them. He’s very, very handsome.

Realizing he’s waiting for you to make the first move, you clear your throat. “Uh….hi!” you greet, giving him a wave. He nods, barely cracking a smile. “You’re Nico?” you sign with your hands and verbally ask. “I’m Y/N, Worick’s friend.” 

Nico shakes your hand and you notice how big, warm, and calloused his palm is. It makes your pussy tingle embarrassingly so. “The teacher, right?” he signs with those thick fingers. “He told me you teach little kids.” You nod, smiling proudly at your occupation. “Yes, pre-K,” you giggle. “They’re adorable, but a handful.” 

There is an awkwardness between you, mostly because Nico is such a silent guy. He also keeps that stoic scowl on his face, so you don’t really know what he’s thinking. “So what do you do?” you curiously ask. “Worick never filled me in on that. He just said you do ‘business’ together as Handymen.” At this, Nico cracks a crooked smirk. “Something like that,” he signs. That intrigues you a bit. 

“Do you wanna go inside?” you ask, nodding at the door. “We’ll freeze before we get a chance to get to know each other more.” You give a small laugh to which he only nods, making you feel like a fish out of water. He opens the door for you, surprising you, and nods you into the warm club.

“Thank you,” you whisper, catching his intoxicating scent of cologne and lavender soap as you walk in. A bit of cigarette smoke clings to his clothes too, but it doesn't bother you much. The club is small yet cozy and dimly lit for a more intimate feel. Many people are at the bar or on the dance floor near the small stage where a band plays, the sounds of piano and cello mingling in the air. 

After getting your drinks from the bar (you get a cocktail while Nico picks a beer), you pick a table near the window and Nico pulls out a chair for you. You flush bashfully at his actions, not taking him for such a sweet guy. “Such a gentleman,” you laugh as he pushes you in and takes a seat across from you. “Worick didn’t tell me that. He said you’re very quiet though.” He shrugs his broad shoulders in his jacket. “Just don’t got much to say,” he signs. 

You nod as you shed your coat, revealing your naked shoulders and dress to him. You try not to be intimidated by his unwavering gaze. “That’s okay,” you sign and say. “We can talk about whatever you want.” The corners of his mouth quirk upward. “You sign really well,” he praises you. You smile proudly and bashfully, glad to have impressed him. “My dad is deaf and taught me how to sign since I was young.” 

His smirk turns more dry and almost forced as he signs to you: “So me being deaf doesn’t turn you off?” he jokes.

You immediately remember his ex and feel your stomach fall. “Not at all,” you sweetly answer. “Though I don’t like beer drinkers.” You wrinkle your nose at Nico’s drink. He raises an eyebrow, confused at your distaste. “It makes kisses taste like beer.” You lean forward a bit, giving him a secretive, flirtatious smile. “I like my kisses sweet.” 

Your eyes tick down to his lips and he notices. But he barely reacts. If anything, he looks disinterested and your heart sinks. “Was that too much?” you ask worriedly. Did you go too far? Are you misreading this? 

Before you can babble an apology, he stops you. “You asked what I do for work with Worick,” he signs. You nod, your heart thumping madly in your chest. He takes a deep breath before signing again. “We do almost everything, but I do dirty work,” he tells you. “I used to be a mercenary, but…I’ve still got human blood on my hands.” He pauses, watching for your reaction. That explains the marks on his fists. ”Does that bother you?” he asks, apprehension in his brown eyes. Before you can respond, someone knocks into the table, nearly toppling it over. 

You squeak, grabbing your drink before it can topple over while Nico straightens the table. “Oh, my God, are you alright?” you gasp, immediately helping the guy onto his feet. He turns to you, all crooked teeth and bloodshot eyes. “Now I am,” he drunkenly chortles at the sight of you. “Damn, darlin’, you’ve got a body on you! You wanna dance?” You immediately step back, warning bells going off in your head. “U-Uh, no, sorry. I’m here with–“ 

The man turns to Nico who has been staring daggers at the drunk the whole time. “Him?” he cackles. “That fuckin’ cockhead? You can get someone better than that, darlin’. Someone who can take care of this bo–“ 

The drunk cuts himself off with a whine of pain as Nico grips his hand so hard that he cracks the drunk’s knuckle bones. Unbeknownst to you, the drunk tried to touch your behind and Nico wasn’t having that. Doesn’t he know who he’s fucking with? You gape at your date as he steps between you and the drunk, a hulking mountain, and gets deep in the drunk’s grill.

And then he opens his mouth: “Back up,” he warns, his voice deeper and raspier than you pictured it though loud due to his hearing. “Unless you want your head in this table, I suggest you leave her alone. She’s with me.” 

He then releases the drunk who scampers away, clutching his hand to his chest. Nico composes himself and turns to you, an apologetic look in his eyes. “Sorry,” he signs. You don’t say anything and he is so sure that he fucked this up. Now you see who he is. Now you see that he’s just a Twilight. A mercenary. A no good– 

“Nico?” you softly ask. His hurtful thoughts take the back burner when you step to him, looking up at him with those precious, brown eyes. “Do you want to dance?” you ask, signing the words to him. 

He blinks at you, so sure that you're scared of him. When in reality, you're just trying to push the nasty thoughts of him kissing you silly and fucking you up against the table with that big, sexy body and massive dick out of your mind.

Him defending you but still being a complete, gentle giant to you is getting you going completely, but it’s still the first date. You want him to open up and maybe a slow dance can do that for you. “Not much of a dancer,” he signs, looking sheepish. 

You smile and offer your hands to which he takes. “I’ll show you how,” you giggle, pulling him along onto the dance floor filled with slow-dancing pairs. A soft, slow tune with a seductive saxophone and piano plays as you stand eye to eye. You place one hand on his shoulder as you interact your fingers with his with the other. Slowly, you begin to sway to the music, beginning to melt within the music and each other. 

And when lean your head onto his shoulder, finally feeling at peace, Nico comes to feel that this is where you belong: with him, in his arms. 

KEISUKE BAJI (TOKYO REVENGERS)

*Disclaimer: Baji is aged up (over the age of 18) in this drabble! 

“You’re the worst blind date I’ve ever had,” you very boldly and irritatingly tell the annoyingly sexy man sitting across from you. 

The attractive man with the long, wavy black hair, sharp eyes the color of milk chocolate, and a sharp, canine smile looks across from you at the table littered with remnants of your Italian dinner. Baji is his name apparently, a close friend of Mikey’s and one of his gang members. You never understood that gang shit, but they never give you problems.

If anything, Mikey’s gang ‘Toman’, protects you and makes sure you go about your days without any bother. “I’m guessin’ you’ve been on many blind dates before me?” Baji suggests as he chews on his pasta. “Huh. That’s a shocker.” 

You sharply squint at him, catching onto that shade. “Why is that so shocking?” you ask, digging your nails into the table with how irked you are. You can’t believe Mikey set you up with him. It’s been 25 minutes into the date and so far, each conversation was an argument and shot after shot.

Your personalities clash horribly, not to mention every woman in the place has their eyes on him. And he knows it! Not to mention that he’s an extremely messy eater (which led your mind to other places), he is way too into himself, and he has no idea how to act in a classy setting like an Italian restaurant. 

He’s a wild. He’s argumentative and hot-headed. He’s a rugged, tough-as-nails, roughneck dude…and he’s turning you on.  

Baji leans back against his chair, widening his legs in a way that makes you want to scream. Why the fuck does he have to be so goddamn fine but such an asshole? Is God punishing you? “Well, bein’ the fact that you’re the very definition of ‘a stick in the mud’,” he explains, “and a tighter than a drum, I can hardly believe how any guy sat across from you at a table. At least you’re pretty.” He goes back to eating his pasta like he didn’t just insult you. 

“Excuse me?” you hiss, feeling your blood boil. Thank God for your dress or else, you’re sure you’d boil over from the anger you feel. “And I can’t imagine how any self-respecting woman can sit with a lowlife, cocky, smart ass narc like you. And unlike me, your looks do nothing to take away any of that.” Baji’s thick, black eyebrows raise at the shot you took. “And you’re snarky,” he chuckles. “Lucky for you, I’ve got a thing for snarky girls.” 

He uses his sinful tongue to lick a bit of sauce from his bottom lip. You catch a glint of metal on his tongue as he does and you realize that he has a tongue piercing. ‘Fuck,’ you think, clenching your thighs beneath the table and gripping the hem of your dress. You lean your hand against the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache coming on. “I can’t believe I said yes to this shit,” you sigh into your hand. “Fuck the $50. I’m gonna have to tell Mikey that–“ 

“Mikey?” Baji cut in, pausing from eating. “Mikey put you up to this?” His brown eyes widen in shock and you feel a spark of joy at shutting him up. “Yes,” you proudly say, venom in your tone, “he did. And you know why? It’s because no other girl wants to date you. You’re unromantic, you’re a slob, you’re always looking for an argument, and you seem to push every single guy’s buttons in here.” 

He stares at you for a moment, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, and then he begins to laugh so loud that the others in the restaurant look at him. You hide behind your hand, embarrassed. “Oh, shit!” he cackles. “I swear, that motherfucker is desperate to find me somebody.” You nod, pushing your dinner to the side. “Agreed. Why he ever thought I would be a perfect match for you is beyond me.” 

Baji looks at you now, an unreadable expression on his face as his smile fades. “Maybe it’s because you’re such a fuckin’ brat,” he replies though his tone is different. You stare at him in disbelief, scowling. Did he really just say that? Deadass? 

Baji smirks at your reaction. “You heard me: B-R-A-T. You’re a brat and fortunately for you, baby girl, I’m just the guy to handle a chick like you.” He leans in toward you, folding his ringed knuckles beneath his chin. “Someone who doesn’t shut the fuck up or know her place.” 

“Know her place?!” you snap, earning the attention of the restaurant. He barely reacts, though his smile grows and a strange twinkle appear in his eyes. “You know what? Fuck this and fuck you. Why you even have an ex-girlfriend is beyond me if this is how you talk to them.” You stand up in your pretty, body-hugging dress and grab your coat. “I’m leaving,” you huff, snatching the coat on. “Have a good Valentine’s Day, dickhead.” 

Without another word or waiting for him to respond or even stop you, you leave the restaurant and step out into the cold February night. You barely get down the street before you hear your name being called. You turn, seeing Baji jogging towards you, those black locks flowing in the wind. “Y/N!” he calls in his deep ass voice. “Hold up, wait!” You don’t know why you stop, but you do, putting a hand on your hip. You glare at him and pout those plump lips when he finally stops in front of you. “You left your dessert.” 

He presents a small brown box to you and opens it to reveal a small chocolate fudge cake with chocolate mousse on the inside and Godiva flakes coating the top. “I didn’t order any dessert,” you say in a tight voice. He smirks down at you, standing several heads taller than you. “I know; that’s why I ordered ya one. C’mon, you don’t like chocolate cake?” You look back down at the cake and close it before he hands it to you. “What, is this an apology?” you snort. “Sorry, man, but you’re gonna have to try much harder than–“ 

“You’re wonderin’ why I have an ex, right?” he interrupts you. You pause, confused, but he just smiles mischievously at you. “I have an ex, and many of them, because I’m an asshole, unfortunately. Force of habit.” He shrugs, but actually looks guilty for it. “But I’ve had many girlfriends because I know how to tame them.” 

His smile is flirtier now, creating more of that sexual tension that you felt at dinner. You still stare at him, speechless, and he figures that you’re clueless about what he means. “I put it down,” he explains. "Give good dick. Knock their boots. Am I makin’ any sense here?”

You roll your eyes, ignoring the thoughts running in your head of just how good he is in the bedroom. “I know what you mean,” you snap. “So why the fuck are you tellin’ me this?” 

Baji smiles at you, his canines glowing at you as if they are illuminated by a light within them. They thrill you and bring a ferocious and needy part out of you that you didn’t know was even there. He takes a step toward you, getting closer, until you can reach up and kiss him if you want to.

“Because I know you’re attracted to me,” he murmurs matter-of-factly. “What, you think I can’t see it? The way you squeezed your thighs tight together at the table. The way you kept starin’ dead at my hands. The way you’d get so lost in thought as if daydreaming about somethin’ else way more exciting.” 

You flush embarrassingly, more at your behavior than the fact that Baji noticed it. You can’t help how attracted you are to him. But Baji doesn’t want you to be embarrassed or ashamed. He wants you to want him the same he wants you.

“Lucky for you, mama,” he purrs, the pet name making your pussy jump, especially with his voice, "I’m just as whipped for you, especially in that dress.” His fingers lightly glide down your arm, sending shivers down your spine. “I’m sorry about tonight, but I can show how sorry I am in other ways if you want me to.” 

You can tell he genuinely means it and isn’t just trying to get in your pants, but even so, you still scowl up at him, your jaw set and eyes narrow. “And why do you think I’ll say yes?” you question. He just chuckles, still flashing you that sharp, sexy smile. “Because you know I’m the only one who can handle that bratty ass of yours.” 

He then turns and waves a hand. You don’t know what for until a taxi suddenly glides over to the curb and stops. Baji walks to the backdoor and opens it before looking back at you expectantly, his eyes molten with lust.

“Now get in the fuckin’ car, Y/N.” You know you shouldn’t get in the car and go anywhere with him, but you can’t deny how much he makes your pussy throb. So against your better judgment, you crawl into the backseat of the cab and tell the driver your address. 

Hours later after being stripped out of your dress, shown extensive foreplay, and having your pussy eaten like Baji hasn’t had anything to eat in decades, you find yourself being fucked against the wall with your arms and legs wrapped tight around the long-haired, tattooed man who holds you against him as he pummels his thick, hard cock into your tight, wet pussy again and again. The bedroom is filled with the sound of your mixed moans and skin slapping against skin as he pistons his hips into you, making you see stars. 

It doesn’t take long for your pussy to start quivering around his cock, squelching and dripping the more he fucks it. You’ve never been fucked like this in your life and you’re able to hold back anymore. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Baji!” you practically scream. “Can’t…can’t take it! I’m gonna cum!” 

Baji shakes his head, gripping your hair with one hand while he hikes you up onto his waist with the other, showing you how lightweight you are to him. “Uh-uh, bratty girl,” he huffs. “Not yet, mama. I need to feel more of this pretty pussy flutterin’ around me.”

He thrusts harder, faster, drawing whines and sobs out of you. You begin to claw at his back where a large tattoo dedicated to Toman is inked into his back muscles. “You cum when I say, understand?” he growls into your ear. 

You weakly nod, willing to do anything he says if that means you can cum. “Now shut the fuck up, and take this dick.” You do so, stopping your protests as he fucks you stupid until you cream all over his cock while he fills you up to the brim…but of course, you only do it when he says so. You find that you love doing what he tells you to. 

When everything is said and done, you both crumble to your bedroom floor and Baji pecks your cheek. “Best blind date ever, right?” he chuckles.

BENIMARU SHINON (FIRE FORCE)

*Note: Reader is Goth! 

“God, kill me,” you sigh, standing in front of the theater doors. “Why did I agree to do this? He could be a serial killer or something!” 

You contemplate leaving, but you already promised your best friend that you’d go through with this stupid blind date on this stupid ass holiday. “Please just try and go along with it for tonight, Y/N!” she practically begged. “I promise he’s a nice guy! And I already told him you agreed! Just give it a chance and I promise you that I’ll never bother you about dating again.” 

You groaned, sitting across from her at a bar. “Fuck,” you sighed. “Fine. Can I least pick the movie?” Your friend eagerly nodded, so you purposely picked a romance/horror movie marathon showing that the theatre does every year for Valentine’s Day. The kind with blood n guts, gothic vampires, and slashers. Surprisingly, the guy still agreed to come much to your dismay and you had no choice but to come out. 

You know that your friend did this as a way to get you to start dating. You swear she thinks that one of these days that you’ll hang yourself from the shower rod with how lonely you are…and this has zero to do with you being goth. Though you love the color black, but you’re not depressed. You love dark makeup and rock music, but that’s what you love. You’ve always adored gothic fashion and the aesthetic, so that’s what you live. 

However, some people think it’s weird. Though Tokyo is full of eccentric and different type of fashion, goth isn’t particularly “popular” in your Black family or side of the city. And it certainly isn’t popular with the guys. You don’t care. You love yourself and you’re not about to change for anyone. So you dress in your finest black attire with a mini leather skirt, thigh-high stockings, and boots that make you feel powerful and sexy. Your makeup is dark, your mascara is sharp, your nails are as long and sharp as claws, and chains drip from your leather jacket. 

You wonder what your date will be like. Apparently, he’s a well-regarded and respected officer in the Special Fire Force, among the strongest there is. But you don’t recognize him when he comes up the road from his side of the city. He is tall and has a lean build that is hidden behind a black sweater and baggy jeans. His locks of black hair hang in his face, but not enough to hide his different set of eyes: his right pupil is a red circle with one black dot in the middle while his iris is black; his left is red with a white X in the middle, reminding you of a game of tic, tac, toe. 

“Hey,” he greets easily. “You waitin’ for someone?” You scowl at him, crossing your ams over you chest. “Why are you asking?” you ask sharply. The stranger raises his big hands in defense, taking a step back. “I’m not trying you, I promise. I’m just wondering if you’re this Y/N that’s supposed to be waiting here for me.” 

You squint at him, cocking your head to the side to see him at a different angle. “Benimaru?” you question. “Huh. You don’t look how I thought at all.” He is handsome but not enough to knock you off your game. He quirks a small smirk and you have a feeling that this dude don’t smile often. “I hope that’s a good thing,” he wryly chuckles. “For the record, you’re not bad on the eyes either…if that’s what you meant.” 

You don’t acknowledge his compliment or react even though your stomach flips. You’re not used to anyone complimenting you on the account of your black lipstick and mascara. “So should we go in or stay out here to freeze to death?” you sarcastically ask. You huff and turn on your heel before Benimaru can even answer or follow you. 

He easily beats you to the door on his long legs and opens it for you, towering over you as he does. “Is sarcasm just natural for you?” he asks, dry humor in his voice as you step into the theater. You feel a pang of guilt at your behavior. It’s not his fault your friend orchestrated this. 

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I’ll admit, I’m not too hype about being here. Dating isn’t really my thing, but my friend insisted I come on this stupid blind date…no offense.” Benimaru barely blinks at you walk to the ticket counter. “None taken. My friend, Konro, swore I needed a Valentine’s Day date when the whole holiday isn’t even a holiday. It’s pure BS.” 

“Ugh, agreed,” you scoff, rolling your pretty, brown eyes ringed in mascara “It’s just a way for companies to continue to capitalize off of hopeless romantics and couples. Not to mention all of that pink.” 

Benimaru nearly misses that, too busy thinking about how pretty your eyes are. “I’m takin’ you don’t like pink?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you. “Not that your clothes are a dead giveaway or anything.” His interestingly alluring eyes tick up and down your outfit, making you feel hot under all of the leather. “I just like black,” you laugh. “But don’t get me wrong; I wear other colors sometimes, but only on a minuscule level.” 

“Your friend said you were a gothic chick,” he chuckles, giving you a mischievous smirk. You send it right back as you take out the two tickets your friend sent you for the movie. “As gothic as they come,” you retort. Benimaru just hums in response, particularly liking you in that mini skirt and the way it swishes around your thighs. 

After buying the tickets, you two wander into the small waiting area where a bar, a cafe, and an arcade occupy the space. “So the movie starts in about fifteen minutes. Should we head in now?” Benimaru doesn’t answer at first, too busy staring at the arcade games. “Nah,” he replies, nodding at the flashing, noisy games. “We can kill some time in here.” He begins to walk over, expecting you to follow. “Your friend also said you’re shit at racing games,” he says with a smirk shot your way. 

“Not true!” you scoff, crossing your arms. He shrugs pausing in the threshold of the arcade to wait for you. You finally give in, taking off your jacket to reveal your black crop top. “Fine, but only if we got time for the shooting games too. I wanna kill some zombies.” Benimaru nods, secretly laughing to himself as you follow him into the arcade. 

You spend way more than fifteen minutes in that bitch, playing all the games you can. Benimaru is good at almost everything, playing each game with skill and precision. He lets you win most of the time, just liking to see you smile and laugh in pride when you win a racing game or beat him at ping pong. During the zombie game, you get overrun by the undead while holding your plastic machine gun and you feel him lightly touch your elbow to point the gun straight. His touch sends shivers all over you. You win the first half until you run out of time and Benimaru smirks at you. “I totally helped you with that,” he sniggers. 

You also play basketball, shooting them repeatedly through hoops. He always gets the farthest hoop and the highest points, winning every round. “You only won ‘cause you’re taller,” you huff, bumping your hip with his as you walk by. It gives him the perfect opportunity to watch your ass sway in that damn skirt, making him hard as a rock for you. 

As walk to get something to drink, you stop at one game in particular: the crane game. It holds dozens of little plushies that you’re obsessed with, including the little black plague doctor with its big eyes and fluffy beak. Benimaru smirks at you staring at the game, walking up beside you. “I saw you looking at this thing the whole time,” he says. "You couldn't have been any less discreet.” 

“Shut up,” you grumble, still staring at the plushie. He notices and pulls out his last arcade coin. “What, you want it?” You quickly shake your head, turning to leave. “We’re gonna miss the movie anyways, so–“ 

“Fuck it,” he carelessly interrupts, shocking you. “You obviously want that penguin, so I’ll get it for you.” 

You roll your eyes, sighing. “It’s not even a penguin; it’s a plague doctor Squishable. It ain’t a big deal for me to have it, Benimaru.” But your date just glares at you as he bends down to put the coin in the slot. “And it ain’t a big deal for me to get it for you,” he argues. “If we miss the movie, we’ll just go for food.” 

You are floored by his stubbornness and refusal to give up until he’s made you happy. How can that be? You only just met and yet here he is, using his last coin to try to get you a stupid plushie! You watch with bated breath as he plays the game, moving the crane slowly as he fixes his eyes on the plushie. Once he’s moved the crane right over the plushie, he hits a button, causing the crane to sink down into the sea of stuffed animals. The crane’s hooks latch onto the peak of the plushie and, slowly, he moves it over to the opening in the corner to release it.

The crane plays music and lights up in victory as the plushie rolls down the chute into Benimaru’s hand. He turns to you, an unreadable look on his face. “Here,” he says passively. “I figured goth girls didn’t like cute shit like this…but he is kinda creepy.” 

You take the plushie, just staring at it for a moment. All of the sudden, you feel weird. You feel tingly and butterflies flutter around in your stomach. That never happens, but it’s happening for this guy! “Thanks,” you softly, and very shyly, say. Benimaru shrugs like it isn’t anything to him, but it is to you. “Y’know, the movie marathon is gonna be showing another night too…” You trail off, looking down at your shoes to avoid seeing his eyes. 

“So you want another night with me?” he asks. Quickly, you turn on your heel and stomp out of the arcade, leaving him utterly confused. “What?” he calls after you, sounding genuinely baffled. “It was just a question!” 

A second night with him does happen two weeks later and you do see the midnight marathon, but neither of you pay any attention to the first move that plays. You’re too busy bouncing on your date’s thick, veiny cock in the darkness of the theater to watch the film, biting back your moans despite the seats being empty. Benimaru softly grunts and moans into your ear as your walls flex around him, his eyes transfixed on the way your ass jiggles as he lifts up your skirt. 

“Fuck, Beni!” you moan. “Y-You’re s-so fuckin’ big!” You grip his thighs with your long nails as his dick stretches you out in the best way, a delicious ache coming in your calves with the effort it takes to bounce on him. Benimaru stands up and bends you over the seat in front of you, beginning to fuck you from behind. He is fast and nails that single spot every time that makes you have to cover your mouth because you’re so loud. 

“Shh, shh, baby,” he coos into your ear as he continues to pound into you from behind. “You don’t want security comin’ to find us, do you? Or maybe you do, you little slut, fuckin’ your date in the movie theatre.” He takes a fistful of your hair and pulls, much to your enjoyment of being slutted out in the dark. Anyone could walk in and see you fucking right now. It’s so naughty. So sexy. 

The thrill of it must be getting to Benimaru too because he speeds up his thrusts, his balls slapping against your clit as his hand smacks against your ass, gripping it tight. “Shit, baby, you’re gonna make cum!” he groans, tossing his head back at the feeling of your tight walls squeezing around him. “Cum with me! Make that pretty fuckin’ pussy cum around my cock!” 

You quickly begin to rub you swollen clit in time with his thrusts and soon enough, you’re cumming all over his cock. “Fuck!” you scream into your hand as your orgasm tears through you. Benimaru cums too, filling you up with a long groan that he bites back as best as he can among the movie playing. He lets you come down from cloud nine before pulling out, letting his cum leak down your thighs. He turns you around, pumping his cock soaked in your juices. “Not yet,” he growls. “Put it back in your mouth and taste yourself.” 

You get on your knees, panties at your ankles and leather skirt hiked up. Benimaru wastes no time thrusting into your mouth, using it as his very own fucktoy, as he watches your brown eyes ringed in mascara stare up at him eagerly. When he pulls away to cum again, your black lipstick stains his cock, marking him as yours.

“Fuck!” he gasps as he cums all over your pretty face, ruining your eye makeup. It is now but black smears down your cheeks as his nut drips all over your face and cheeks. 

“Poor baby,” he chuckles. “Your mascara’s runnin’. I bet you worked so hard on it.” He takes a napkin from your movie snacks and dabs away the cum. “So cute,” he sighs, marveling at how utterly adorable you look. You giggle, feeling deliriously good and cute, just as he says. 

Yeah. A third date is most definitely in the future for you now. 

[starless-nightz]

May I request nico di angelo with a younger sister whoes a lot like percy, leo, and or jason?? (maybe bianca too)

Nico with a younger sister! reader whos a lot like Percy, Jason and Leo

note -> Nico is literally my brother yall!

warnings -> none.

content includes -> fluff, slight angst(?), protective! Nico, idk what else to add here sorry.

Nico is fiercely protective of you from the moment he realizes just how much you remind him of the friends he's lost. Your mix of Percy's bravery, Jason's leadership and Leo's humour stirs up a great amount of emotion in him, and he gets this deep-seated urge to keep you safe, even if you can more than handle your own.

You are the radiance which brings so much light into Nico's life. You are full of life and optimism, a complete opposite of Nico's really serious and withdrawn nature, something which he finds refreshing yet at times overpowering. You're one of those people who would drag him out of his dark mood into participating in activities within Camp Half-Blood, even when he's all stingy about it.

Nico can't help but see glimpses of Bianca in you, particularly in the manner you show concern for him. Your kind nature and the fact that you try to put others before yourself remind him so much of his lost sister, and that makes him both so protective and a little scared of losing you, too. Sometimes he will be just watching you from a distance, with eyes soft in a wistful stare that usually flies right past you.

You share a lot of Percy's daring and recklessness. Be it charging into a dangerous situation or telling a joke to lighten the mood when all is truly serious, you have a knack for lightening up the mood. Nico does scold you time and again for being too reckless, yet in your ears, there's always a hint of fondness with which he does that. He constantly worries about you, even when he knows you're capable.

Your humor reminds him of Leo so much-your constant jokes, trying to coax a smile from him whenever you can. It's one of the few ways you actually break through the stoic exterior he often wears. Even as he rolls his eyes or acts like he's annoyed by it, he silently enjoys how you bring laughs into his life-something he has missed sorely.

Nico is in awe of your bravery. You're as responsible as Jason and have innate leadership qualities that he does, as well. You're one of these kinds of people that has always got to step forward when the going gets tough-even if it puts you in harm's way. That's something Nico really looks up to you for, even though he often wishes you'd take a little more care.

You both balance each other out perfectly. Where he is quite a lot more internal and brooding, you're the one who encourages him to be a little more social-whether it be joining you in conversations with other campers or joining in activities that Nico would usually steer clear of. He helps to keep your feet on the ground and reminds you that sometimes things need to be taken seriously, and when you need it, he's there in support-albeit quiet support.

You both watch each other's backs on quests. While you are perfectly capable of holding your own in a fight, Nico's always watching your back in case things get too intense. Tease him as you will that he is overprotective, but you know the truth-it's because he lost people before and doesn't want to lose you too.

You make it a point to check in on Nico, that he's eating proper, sleeping enough, and isn't shutting himself away from the world too much. He's not great at talking through feelings, but he is grateful you worry about him. It reassures him he's not alone; someone still values his well-being. Grumbles at times, but to him, it means more than he's able to express.

Nico has a soft spot for the more serious moments of yours. When you drop the jokes, the playful attitude- it brings out a caring side in him reminiscent of Bianca. And he's caught off guard by it every time. He sees the compassionate and deep thoughtfulness that's a side of you, and it reminds him you are not just a mirror of his past friends but your own person.

Your relationship with Nico is one of understanding. You're both really different, but in a way, that underlying bond that siblings do have runs deep. You understand the loss he faces, and he realizes that behind the light-hearted mask you wear, you too bear the load of being a demigod. This mutual understanding of each other's case makes your sibling bond quite unbreakable; it's a source of strength for both of you.

You're one of those few who can actually make Nico laugh. An endangered species, perhaps, but when it finally does happen, when you do get one real laugh out of him, it's some sort of minor victory. You treasure these moments, knowing well how much they mean. And Nico-never to say so, of course-loves in secret how you can lighten up even the bleakest of days, just that little bit.

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Hi! Imma resend my req then cause yep.

Could I pls get Nico with a super rich pretty boy (mortal) that’s like very affectionate and looks like a airhead but just like completely changes when it comes down to business like becomes super serious? And he’s like super big in making Nico blush with lavish and thoughtful gifts or trips to compensate cause he can’t like fight monsters? Feeel free to decline!

Ps: I loved ur Connor stoll x mortal fic!

Hey <333 so this was kinda changed around a bit and also mixed with a request for Nico x Son of Eros from ages ago, so whoever asked for that, here it is!

red roses and ghost flowers---Nico x flirty son of Eros

»»————-　★　————-««

-Nico doesn’t know how to react.

-First of all, touch is a big no no for him, it makes him feel claustrophobic and stuck and there’s a lot of reasons he really doesn’t like that feeling. But then you came along, and suddenly maybe if he’s outside in the open spaces and you run up and wrap your arm around his shoulder, it might just be okay. 

-You just wear the prettiest rings and give him the prettiest rings, that holding hands isn’t the worst thing. Just because of the rings. Definitely. Not because of how your knuckles sit against his the way your thumb rubs against the scars covering his palms. 

-His hands. Holy Hades, you seemed to have this obsession with doing that silly bow and pressing your lips to the back of his hand every time he saw you. 

-Which was a lot. 

-Maybe it was meant to be, or maybe it was because Nico sort of detoured a little to wander past the Eros cabin or pop into the arts and crafts center. Just to see how Annabeth was doing teaching the weaving classes, of course. Not because you were usually in the back making another little thing.

-Nico ended up with a lot of those little things. They filled an entire coffin shaped shelf in his by now, but he couldn’t exactly get rid of them. The skull shaped candle was just too on point, you must’ve found a real skull for comparison, and that was dedication Nico couldn’t just throw away. And then there was a vinyl record of an old band Maria had taken him to with Bianca. However you had found that, it must've taken a lot of time and money. It would be rude to get rid of something like that.

-Of course the bouquets were always chucked out every few days, but only when Nico had touched the soft petals with a smile too much and they’d started to shrivel.

-Nico was still convinced Hazel was the mole, running to find you every time the sunflowers or the red roses or the ghost flowers [He hated to admit that they were really cool] wilted, because then another bunch of flowers would turn up on the doorstep of the Hades cabin with a pink silk holding them together. 

-Even the Mythomagic cards you’d found stayed on the shelf, although Nico already had them. They were from you. It would be rude. And they sort of made him grin a little bit. You paid so much attention, why wouldn’t that make him grin? 

-Especially because, well, you could be paying attention to anyone else. Literally anyone. There were people clawing their way into the sparring classes you went to. Not that they had much of a reason to watch, you spent most of the time holding a sword and then blinking in confusion at the instructor, who’d given up by now. 

-Archery was a whole different story though, and Nico had to admit, he had sort of gone to watch you do that a few times. 

-On one hand, you weren't exactly bad looking, but on the other hand all he could see was Eros laughing cruelly and launching volley after volley of heart shaped arrows into Nico’s limbs in that shadowy place filled with broken statues and pillars. It was safe to say he had a bit to work through, but the fact you still ran up with a grin considering the first time Nico met you, he had a full blown panic attack and then Jason nearly bit you, he figured you couldn’t do much harm. 

-The son of Jupiter still watched your interactions carefully, but Nico had convinced him to tone down the growling part. 

-Then you’d both bonded over the fact that your dads sucked majorly, and now Nico was sort of concerned that Jason might steal his- his… his whatever you were [apart from way too pretty]

-Nico had to admit, you were really good looking. Something about the shininess of your eyes and the way your smile was so sharp had to be some sort of love god trickery, but it made his stomach fill with the souls of the departed and shadows to thicken in the corner. 

-You didn’t even mind when the grass wilted around him and the air got a bit too cold to be normal. 

-One time you even picked him up and just carried Nico princess style to the pavement that couldn’t shrivel and turn brown. That certainly helped the bad feelings inside his head take a break and admire your arms. 

-He figured when you showed up one night in your normal camp clothes and a pink bow tie to take him to the first showing of Scream 6 [Nico liked explaining how many stabs it would actually take to kill the characters], that there really was no back peddling.

-So he took the bouquet of ghost flowers from you and then held both the flowers… and your hand. 

»»————-　★　————-««

[kazelvr]

₊˚ෆˎˊ˗ everyone adores you, at least i do.

synopsis. cell 13 relationship hcs (separately).

content contains. gender neutral reader! building 5 arc mentioned. multiple hajime mentions (jumpscare) not proofread!

mei’s note. wrote this for all the nanbaka enjoyers, i also need nanbaka mutuals 2bhonest :,).

jyugo (ジューゴ)

jyugo is definitely something when it comes to relationships! he’s been behind bars his whole life, how is he supposed to know how to show his affection?

so, he gets advice! almost everyday he can be found next to uno, seeking relationship advice tips on how to show his love for you. although the advice he receives isn’t the most useful, he still makes an effort. however, there was one instance where he turned to hajime for advice, and lets just say it didn’t turn out so well.

jyugo is your #1 protector, always looking out for you just in case anything happens to you. in the building five arc, he keeps a watchful eye on you, never letting you stray too far from his side. his grip on you is firm, seeking solace in your presence.

cell thirteen freaks the FUCK out when they hear about jyugo having a partner. literally, how could someone like him possibly pull someone as cute as you?

like i said earlier, jyugo struggles to express his love for you. his attempts are often clumsy and timid, leaving him embarrassed even at the mere utterance of “i love you” coming from his lips. but, don’t get the wrong idea about his lack of affection. he adores you deeply, please be patient with him!

he loves to show off his jail breaking skills to you, only to be caught by hajime 10 minutes later. and then you have to witness your poor boyfriend get yelled at for trying to escape. at least you’re there to comfort him and praise his skills, which makes this all worth it in the end.

he never. stops. talking. about. you. never. it’s painfully obvious he’s head over heels for you. even before you two started dating, he was talking about you as if he was your biggest fan. which, he is. but he doesn’t want you to know that.

if you’re a criminal and you belong in a different cell/building, trust me, jyugo would be sneaking out of his cell all the time to visit you. it gets so bad that you have to tell him to stop, or else hajime would literally kill him with his fists.

if you are in the same cell as him, jyugo likes to play with your hair while you’re sleeping. the sensation of his fingertips running through the strands relaxes him, especially when it’s late at night when he’s stuck in his cell. he could escape if he wanted to, but now he doesn’t because he wants to spend time with you. it’s also a way of showing his affection for you without getting embarrassed because he knows you’re sleeping. if you wake up and catch him, he’ll pretend that nothing ever happened.

jyugo’s heart nearly stopped when you first told him that you loved him. he knew it, of course, but hearing the words coming out of your mouth was too much for him to bear. tears sprang instantly to his eyes, and he buries his face in your shoulder, sobbing. his mind swirled with words of love he’d never heard before, words so soft and tender he couldn’t believe anything could make him feel this good. please, let him have his moment.

uno (ウノ)

you bully him for being a brit (jay kay. maybe)

loves to play cards with you! even if you don’t know how to play, he’ll teach you anyway. he even lets you win just to see the smile on your face.

uno is always with you, always holding your hand. he likes the feeling of your touch, and he will never let go—no matter what how much you tell him to.

uno let’s you do his hair, and he does yours as well. he’s all about hair care and skin care, so no doubt he’ll remind you to take care of your skin and your hair. and then, you both end up glowing together.

he likes to flirt, and if you’re someone who gets easily embarrassed, uno will be flirting with you all the time just to see your reaction. he plays with your heart strings, he plays with your head; it’s like a game to him. he’s charming in his own cocky way. it’s a part of who he is and what he does best.

but, if you flirt back with him, he’ll melt and whine. he’s the one who’s supposed to do the flirting!

uno is the epitome of a doting cuddlebug. he is constantly attached to you, whether day or night, no matter who sees. he is so head-over-heels for you, that even hajime has to physically tug or otherwise force him away from your side..

when talking to others, uno frequently brags about you in the most adorable way possible. he flexes by casually pointing at you and asserting you’re his partner, often saying things like, “that’s my partner, [name]! so lucky, right?” to everyone else in earshot. in essence, his pride runs deep, and he’s not afraid to show it.

when rejected or ignored by you, unl tends to become highly sulky and dramatic. like a child throwing a tantrum, he’ll sulk and pout, spreading misery to everyone else near him just because he was in a bad mood. he’ll go so far as to ignore you unless you apologize, although his bad mood rarely lasts for too long. no more than an hour later, you’ll find uno clinging to your side once more, as if none of it ever happened.

uno’s self-proclaimed as a ‘pretty boy’ is a fact. nonetheless, he’ll still be a blushing, embarrassed mess whenever you acknowledge it, especially if you tease him about it. he’ll nervously scratch the back of his neck, his cheeks a bright shade of red, trying to come up with a reply that doesn’t make him sound like a giddy schoolgirl — but failing miserably.

nico (ニコ)

nico is always recommending manga to you, based on what you’ll like— and he’s usually spot on due to his vast experience. if you’re an anime lover as well, he would be more than happy to chat with you about it, and will probably end up introducing you to his favorite series.

nico is utterly relentless when it comes to showering you with affection, always sparing no opportunity to tell you how much he cares. everyone else in cell thirteen has seen it all before— the constant showering with kisses and hugs, the endless compliments and praise, the clear unashamed adulation.

but to nico, it doesn’t matter if others see it or not, because he wants you to know how much he loves you, and he wants to make it known to you, right here, right now, however he can. it’s quite sweet, really.

playing video games with him is special to nico, especially since it’s you he’s playing with. he considers you to be his favorite person ever, and wants to do everything with you, which includes playing video games. however, nico can get a bit competitive at times. but, don’t worry. if you end up losing a round, he’ll feel bad and let you win all the other rounds after that, just to lift your spirits and make you feel better.

if you’re not one for talking, nico would be more than happy to fill the silence by yapping your ear off about anything that comes to his mind. and you would sit there, listening patiently each time, never judging him for wanting to share his thoughts and interests with you. having someone who is always willing to hear him out really, really means a lot to nico!

nico seems to have a sixth sense for whenever you’re feeling down, ashes constantly checking up on you. whether you’re feeling sad, stressed, or just plain tired, nico will do whatever it takes to cheer you up. he would take you to nanba’s arcade, put on a comedy anime for both of you to watch, or even simply cuddle with you the whole day if that’s what you want. despite his childish demeanor, nico is understanding and sympathetic, always willing to listen to you vent about your problems, while gently holding you close and doing his utmost to comfort you and make you feel better.

rock (ロック)

food dates food dates food dates! although, nanba prison is probably not the most ideal setting for a food date — but your boyfriend still manages to make it work somehow. he’ll beg shiro for the most delicious meal he can offer, and in a heartbeat, you’ll be presented with a ten-tier cake.

rock loves having you on his back while he does push-ups, that’s it. no specific reason.

if anyone even so much breathes a word of disrespect in your direction, rock would go ballistic. without a moment’s hesitation and without any words exchanged, rock would proceed to throw hands, until the person who dared disrespect his beloved had a broken nose and a busted jaw.

while rock may appear brash and impulsive on the outside, he’s nothing more than a big sweethart who would do anything and everything for you. hell, he’ll even go so far as to share his meal with you. he’s got a very obvious soft slot for you, but he’s rather not say that out loud.

another cuddlebug! sure, his loud snoring may keep you up at night, but he’s your boyfriend, and it doesn’t really bother you, after all. the security that comes from rock’s big, muscular arms wrapping around you tightly is worth it. his cuddles are like a warm blanket, making you feel safe. sometimes, they can be so tight you can barely move— no complaints there from you, though. the warmth and comfort rock brings us more than worth it.

rock always asks you to watch him fight, regardless of whether he wins or loses. he doesn’t even mind if he does lose, as long as you’re there to cheer him on and offer him words of praise afterwards. that’s one thing that makes it worthwhile, seeing that big, dumb-happy grin show up on his face after getting congratulated by you for giving it his all.

rock often finds himself comparing hand sizes with you most of the time, knowing full well that yours would be smaller than his, but he still does it anyway. maybe it’s the intimacy and close contact of putting your hands against each other, and the feeling of your soft, slender fingers running up and down his rough, calloused palm. for rock, it’s an almost comforting sensation and he often asks you if you’re willing to do it again.

many others including cell thirteen have noticed the way how rock is especially more gentle with you. how his voice mellows to a calming, relaxed state as soon as he starts talking to you, and how his gaze becomes more relaxed and gentle. it’s as if a switch has been flipped once he locks eyes with you.

the guy is just sososo in love w/you :,)

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: growing worried about the degree of your nail biting habit, nico ignores the advice of his boyfriend and takes matters into his own hands.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: nico di angelo x platonic!gn!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭:: 1.7k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: a curse word i think, nail biting

Agitated was the only word to express how Nico Di Angelo felt, watching as you picked at the hangnail currently torturing you. The two of you were sitting in a mythos lesson at Camp Halfblood, but neither of you were listening. 

While you were focused on getting rid of this hangnail—biting off half your nail in the process—Nico gritted his teeth as he observed the horrible nervous habit of yours. Finally, he had enough, and swiped your wrist away from your face. 

His glare was firmly planted on your face. “Stop. You could get an infection that way.” He retreated into his seat beside you, slouching over. “Plus, its gotta hurt like a devil.”

You shrugged in reply as you tucked your hands in your hoodie pocket to keep them away from your mouth. “Eh. It does. Can’t help it though.”

“I know,” your best friend said through a sigh, a tiny grin sipping across his pale face.

“Besides, I won’t actually get an infection from biting my nails, Nico.”

His brows rose just slightly. “How do you know?”

“Because,” you snapped back, messing with your nails in the confines of your pocket now, waiting for when Nico was gone to finish evening them out. “That’s stupid.”

He scoffed and looked away. “Go ask Will, and he’ll tell you it’s not.”

“He’s biased.”

“How?”

It only took one look, one raise of your brows, and the boy’s pale face was flushed as he shoved your shoulder. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” you laugh, and the discussion was over. For now, at least. If anything, you’d only made Nico even more determined to prove you wrong.

He understood, of course. You really couldn’t help it. But he wanted to help you, at the very least, and if that meant scaring you into kicking the habit, so be it.

“Could you talk to them about it?” he asked—begged—Will. He was practically chasing his boyfriend around the infirmary, ranting about his deep rooted worry for their mutual friend. 

Will was being patient, or, he was really trying to be, but with the previous day’s Capture the Flag game gone awry, and every bed in the infirmary holding a whining little shit camper, Nico was really testing him.

“Nico,” Will finally said, leading him into the supply room and away from the gossiping ears of those around. “I’ll talk to them, but I think you should too.”

“I have been–”

“I mean talk to them and listen too.” Will silenced Nico with a look, pursing his lips as he chose the right words. “Have another conversation about it, okay?”

Nico wanted to ask again, but anytime he brought it up, you just shut down and found an excuse to leave.  Weeks went by, and Nico’s worry got the better of him. He decided to take matters into his own hands, much to the exhaustion of Will.

Coming out of the shadows, Nico entered into the throne room of Hades. The place was dim, torches alighting the walls just enough for him to make out the pillars and, most importantly, the three thorns at the end of the ling chamber.

Each throne was empty, but someone was there. He felt them, their presence, somewhere nearby. Scanning the area, Nico zeroed in on the archway leading out to the palace gardens, where all the beloved plants of the Queen were grown. Bingo.

Nico slinked outside, setting eyes on a pallidly beautiful woman tending to a patch of black roses. Her back was to him, but instantly, she rose from her knees and turned, her gaze burning into him with a malice.

Nico halted a few feet from her, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets and his hair falling into his face. “Hey.”

Persephone looked down her nose at him. “Bastard son.” A subtle smile settled on her face. “About time you came home.”

He shrugged. “Haven’t had time, you know? Anyway, is Dad around?”

With a light scoff the Queen of the Underworld twirled her hand, sending black roots to wrap around Nico’s ankles. “No time for your stepmother? Typical. I give you and that nice Apollo boy gifts every birthday, and this is the thanks I get?”

Nico chuckled as he shook the roots off and said, “Sorry, I just have something really important I need from him.” 

“Fine,” Persephone snapped. “Hades!”

A moment later Nico’s father stepped out of the shadows, frustration seeping off of him. He gritted out, “Yes, my love?”

Persephone pointed to Nico, who waved weakly when his father’s eyes found him. “Oh. Hello, boy. What do you need?”

Nico looked out of the garden, and in the distance he could see the Fields of Asphodel. “How many people have died from biting their nails?”

“Honestly,” said Hades as he and his son approached the fields, shades parting for them as they went. “To think I can just tell you off the top of my head is ridiculous. Do you have any idea how many have died?”

Nico gave him a look. “Are you going to tell me?”

“No, because it’s impossible,” snapped Hades. “You can have your look around. Surely someone fits your description.”

Nico raised his brows. “No way I’m doing this alone. You see how big this place is?”

Sighing, Hades gave his son a withered look, before bellowed, “Come forth those who have died of... What was it?”

“Nail biting.”

Hades paused, questioned his immortal life choices, and continued, “Those who have died of nail biting!”

To Nico’s surprise, around thirty shades stepped forward. Hades stuck around for the time being, having the shades stand in single file as Nico interviewed them one by one.

By the time Hades grew bored and his departure inspired the scattering of the shades, Nico had what he needed, and promptly dragged a ghost to the Overworld.

“Y/N,” he called for you, walking into the Big House where you’d been filing papers for Chiron--for a price, of course. This wasn’t free labor.

You smiled at him. “Sup.”

Nico was nervous about something, you noticed quickly, abandoning your work for a moment to see why he was fidgeting with the end of his jacket. “You okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” he assured. “I just had something to show you.”

As you stood there waiting, Nico called out for someone, but instead of entering through the door, they just materialized out of thin air. Startled, you simply looked from the shade to your best friend. “Who’s this?”

“Oh,” Nico blanked. “I never asked.”

“I–I’m Jim, Your Highness,” said the terrified shade. 

Nico nodded. “Right, this is Jim.”

Confused beyond all else, you screwed your brows together and just stared at him. “Nico, what is this?”

“An intervention,” he put simply, turning on the shade with scary eyes. “Jim, tell Y/N why you’re dead.”

“Nico!” you seethed.

The shade—Jim—shook his head hurriedly. “No, it’s no trouble, Your Highness. I–well, I–I died of a heart attack.”

Impatient, Nico waved him on. “Caused by…”

“Oh, uhm, it was septicemia.” At my puzzled look, Jim elaborated. “A blood infection.”

Nico still wasn’t satisfied, rolling his eyes and urging, “And how’d you get it, Jim?”

The gloomy shade glanced down at his hands, holding them up and saying, “Well, I had a nervous habit. Bit my nails down to the nub every day. I guess I caught something ‘cause of the constant open wounds.”

Now it all made sense. With your eyes locked on the shade, you became conscious that you were picking at a hangnail on your thumb as you stood there, peeling away skin and opening a fresh cut. “Oh.”

“See,” said Nico cheerfully, trying to clap Jim on the back, but his hand only passed through the shade. “Told you. You can die from biting your nails.”

The longer you said nothing, and the longer you stared into space, the more uncomfortable Nico got. He glanced over and locked eyes with Jim, who offered a shrug in reply. Nico sighed. “You’re dismissed.”

And the shade faded as quickly as he’d arrived, leaving only Nico and you. He rocked on his heels, watching you carefully. “Y/N?”

As his hand reached out to poke you back to life, you swatted him away and did just that, but you weren’t as grateful as Nico had hoped you’d be. Instead, your eyes were narrowed and your fists were tight at your sides. “Nico, what the fuck?”

“I–” he stammered. “I thought this would help. Motivation to stop…”

“It didn’t,” you snapped, voice cracking. Nico’s breath hitched; your eyes were red and your chin shook. What had he done wrong?

“I… I don’t get it.”

You held up your hand, littered in Bluey bandaids fresh from Will’s kit. “I can’t stop, Nico. I’ve tried.”

Try harder, he thought, but didn’t say. “I–I’m sorry. I thought I was helping.”

“Helping would be leaving me alone,” you said slowly, swallowing thickly. 

Now, Nico wasn’t great at this comfort thing, but he knew one thing for certain: leaving was mostly never the right call. Will had taught him that. Talk to them and listen too. “Y/N, I really am sorry.”

Your eyes didn’t meet his, shame crawling up your neck as you hid your hands in your hoodie pockets. “Yeah, I know. I know. Just… leave it, okay?”

“Okay…”

He didn’t bring it up again. He was always too scared of hurting you to do that. Instead, he listened, and watched for when your fingers were particularly more wounded than usual. 

Nico made sure there was always a fun box of bandaids in your cabin, and he knew the Paw Patrol and Strawberry Shortcake ones were your favorite. You were never out of neosporin, and new shades of nail polish showed up on your nightstand every once in a while. 

And though you never said anything about it, you were grateful, and you liked how he smiled when you painted your nails and got them to grow out a bit before it chipped away and the cycle restarted. 

Occasionally, a joke about a man named Jim will come up, first by you of course, and Nico could only stand locking eyes with you for two seconds before he keeled over laughing. No one else understands, and neither of you care to explain.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Random blurb:

But I totally imagine Nick Savoy having a ton of kits, like look at this.

Can you just imagine too! Carrying them all on his backs and arms.

Nico letting them dangle off his biceps and even teaching them all how to box.

Just beaming with pride, he is going to give his kits the life he and his sister never had.

Nico always taking them swimming, you often find them all cuddled on his chest sleeping.

Serafine teasing her brother but she loves her little nieces and nephews.

All the kits jumping and calling Mordecai 'uncle' which he begrudgingly accepts since he finds them adorable { he wont admit it though }

[rowdyluv]

ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴀ ʀɪꜱᴋ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴡᴀʀᴅ - ɴɪᴄᴏ ʜɪꜱᴄʜɪᴇʀ ❤︎︎

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Nico is playing in IIHF Men’s World Championship and takes a nasty cut to the face. You are apart of the medical training staff for the Swiss Hockey team and end up treating Nico. But not before you nearly pass out from seeing him with all the blood.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: second person pov, discussion of injury, heavily unedited, probably has terrible grammar, I wrote this while really really sick and it sucks im sorry ill fix it when im better

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ: ʏᴇꜱ/ɴᴏ

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: Below the cut there is a picture of Nico from when he first got cut and there is visible blood. If you cannot handle seeing blood for whatever reason. I advise to skip right by the top section of the post below the cut.

Watching Nico glide up and down the ice with the puck at his stick or him being ready to receive the puck from a pass is one of the best things to watch. He is the happiest when he’s on the ice. It is even better when he scores or gets the assist. His passion for the game is immeasurable, just the same as his love and care for his teammates, friends, and family.

You first met Nico two years ago when you first started working with the New Jersey Devils as apart of their medical training staff. Having worked in the realm of sports while in school and being surrounded by athletes it was very easy to connect with the team. Quickly connecting with quite a few of the players it was only a matter of time before friendships developed, some closer than others. Nico happened to become your best friend in the program. The two of you entirely inseparable.

When Nico found out he would be playing for the Swiss National Hockey team for the Men’s World Championship, he did some work and got you on as a trainer. He didn’t want to travel Czechia and leave you back in the states. “Neeks, you really didn’t have to do that, I could go work at the college for the summer and be okay.” Nico shook his head and tsked. “Nope. You’re coming with me. Who else is going to tape my wrists just right?” He was scraping the bucket for an excuse. Nico didn’t even tape his wrists. Rolling your eyes you didn’t argue you back. You just nodded and accepted his decision.

ミ★☆彡

“Nico? How are you feeling about today?” You ask sitting on the edge of the bed while he’s pulling his shirt over his head. You have no lie to tell, you’re a little upset he has covered his toned upper body. “It’s just another game sweets. Nothing to be concerned with.” Nico answers as if he is still playing peewee hockey. “I don’t know neeks, I watched highlights from their last game, they play pretty rough.” You retort twisting your hands. Showing your anxiety.

Nico turned around from where he had been looking at you in the mirror to face you directly. “It will be okay. I promise you.” He walked up to you, grabbing ahold of your face softly. He was hoping to calm your nerves. Since arriving in Czechia your friendship had become more hands on, flirtatious, and a tad possessive. “If i felt an ounce of worry about this game, you would be the first to know. My little trainer.” He assures you and places a kiss on your forehead. “Let’s get going, shall we? You’ve got got ankles to tape and I’ve got ankles to break” Nico grins and holds his hand out for you.

You laugh a little at Nico’s attempt at a sports joke and follow him out the door holding on to his hand.

ミ★☆彡

It was deep into the second period when Nico and a defender clashed on the ice.

As an athletic trainer you’re supposed to be able to take on anything that’s thrown at you. But they don’t prepare you for when your best friend is down on the ice bleeding profusely. They don’t prepare you for when your mind reverts to all the other hockey players who had injuries from skates in the facial and neck region and just how badly they turned out.

It wasn’t until the entire bench of Swiss players are screaming your name that you realize Nico is off the ice and heading down the tunnel.

Reaching for your kit and quickly following after the officials that are escorting Nico down the tunnel to catch back up to them so the Slovakian team trainers are not the ones treating him. “I..I got it from here.” You tell the officials. They nod and head back the other way.

“Is it your face? Is it your neck?” You begin to ask him, but that entices him to move the towel. “OH! No you don’t. Keep that there until I have my stuff ready.” “It’s my cheek” he gruffed out.

It is like a million tons just came off your chest with just those few words. The feeling that your heart may stop at any moment has fled. A cut to the cheek, that’s an easy feat. A cut to the throat not so easy. Upon reaching the medical room, you sit him down on the first treatment table available and immediately get to work.

“You scared me neeks.” Taking a moment while getting his cut disinfected and ready for the sutures you tried to tell him but it only came out barely above a whisper. “I know, you didn’t move. You always move. You’re always out there with in seconds. That’s when I knew it was bad.” He gave an awkward chuckle and reached up to touch your forearm. “But it’s okay sweets. Sometimes we get scared. Like right now I’m scared because, this is going to hurt isn’t it?” He asked honestly giving his staple smirk that your swear he learned from Jack . “Well it isn’t going to feel good Neeks, but if you’re good I’ll give you a reward.” You say returning his a smirk.

“Hey Nico, why do you always play so hard?” You ask finishing up his last stitch. “It’s always a risk, but think about the reward i get after.” “A reward? You don’t always get a reward.”

“Oh yeah i do. I play as hard as i do because if im sore i can convince my trainer best friend to treat me. Which means i have her all to myself for just a few moment, I have happy teammates, happy fans.” He flashes a smile before licking his lips and then biting his lower lips. “And if I’m really lucky, one day my reward will be getting my best friend as my girlfriend. I’ve been dropping not so subtle hints this trip but I’m not so sure they’re working.” He’s standing now at the edge of the treatment table, he’s taken ahold of the waist holding you close to him. “Is that a possibility?” He asks dropping his forehead to touch yours. “I think if you asked her she’d say yes.” You blurt out so fast it’s almost embarrassing.

“Sweets, would you reward me by being my girlfriend?” Nico asks never breaking eye contact, his ton of voice so sincere.

“Yes, Neeks.”

ミ★☆彡

I’m sorry this is very rough, very unedited. I’ve been so sick this week. I’m hoping soon I can rework it and make it much better. Writing for Nico has proven to be extremely hard for me. 😩

[lazygirldoesfics]

drunk confession [1/7]

how i imagine each of the bistro huddy guys would drunkenly confess their feelings for you

starting with nico !!

Nicole plops into the passenger seat of your old sedan, heaving a sigh. "Thanks for picking me up last minute."

"No worries, you're on my way anyway. What happened to Bridgette?"

"She fucking bailed." You watch as Nicole studies herself in the visor mirror. She picks at her mascara, eyes sparking with outrage as she continues, "Her bum ass boyfriend told her she 'couldn't come', that it's not 'his scene' so it'd be 'disrespectful' if she goes to another guy's birthday party without him. Like fucking grow up."

"Unbelievable," you groan, commiserating.

"I don't know why she stays with him," Nicole says smacking the visor back into place before she turns to you. Her lips curl upwards, deviously. "Which means we have to put in the work tonight to make sure she feels every bit of FOMO and gets pissed at that piece of shit so I'm not the only one seething about it." Nicole pulls out her phone, angling the camera to get both of you in the shot, and snaps a picture when you're wearing matching frowns. She texts it to Bridgette as you shift the car into gear and take off.

"Of course he picks a spot with absolutely no fucking parking," Nicole complains as you make your way to the club. The click clack of your heels echoes every inch of road you had to drive down until you finally found a place to park. Nicole keeps having to pull her dress down, grumbling each time she wrangles the hem back into it's place. You suppress a smile, amused by her grumpiness, knowing fully well that if she didn't want to be here she wouldn't have put in the effort to show up.

"It's gonna be fun," you cheer. "He's been talking up this spot all week."

Nicole stops dead, glancing down at you with eyes bearing just a hint of judgement. "It's Nico. I don't exactly trust his idea of a great spot. I'm prepared for sexual harassment and well drinks that taste like diesel." You shove her playfully with your elbow and that at least rises a smile out of her. "All I'm saying is I better get extra fries all week for coming to this. Like they better be hot and waiting as soon as I clock in."

"Agreed," you laugh.

There's a line out the door that emits more cursing from Nicole, but you make the best of it by sending selfies to Bridgette while you wait. She responds to each one almost instantly, hearting the messages or sending crying emojis. You frown when Nicole suggests this means Bridgette's probably watching reruns of Real Housewives by herself, while her boyfriend ignores her.

When it's your turn to be inspected by the bouncer, you give him your best smile. He barely glances at you before waving you passed the threshold. Stepping beyond the entrance door, you become engulfed by the change in atmosphere. Sweat slick air clings to you, fog from the DJ booth hazes your vision and the thrum of the bass pulsates through to your core. An air of cloying desperation sinks into your skin while your heels stick to the grime covered floor.

Nicole coughs next to you, disdain barely concealed. Eagle-eyed, you spot a guy stumbling towards your direction, beer sloshing onto the floor in his wake. Gently, you steer Nicole to the left, just beyond the drunken splash zone, saving her from a drenching.

That man has no idea of the life debt he owes you.

Nicole clenches her eye shut, breathing deeply. "Okay. Okay! I'm aligning my energy. I am here." Her eyes snap open and she brushes her long blond tendril back. "Let's go kill this shit."

She uses her height to scan the crowd and you're happy to watch from your shorter vantage point. "I see them." Nicole strides through the crowd towards the left side of the dance floor and you follow the path she carves. Still, she checks behind her every so often to make sure she hasn't lost you.

At last you make it through the crowd, rewarded with the sight of familiar faces. Brad turns his attention from the bar to wave a greeting, then signals back to the bartender to add two more drinks to his order. Ruby toasts her beer to you with a barely perceptible nod. Joey, perched at the edge of a black plastic bar stool, rubs at his temples. "This music is fucking awful."

"Oh, don't be such a boomer, Joey," Nicole teases, happy to abandon her own irritability if it means she gets to rub Joey's face in his. He mouths for her to shut up and Nicole responds by turning around to snap a selfie. She winks at you after sending the photo off to Bridgette, a secret between the two of you that she actually agrees with Joey more than he'll ever know. You choke down a laugh as you sit next to Ruby, letting Nicole sidle up to Brad and grab the two drinks he ordered for you both.

"Where's the birthday boy?" you ask and Ruby nods towards the dance floor. It's easy to spot Nico with his signature red bandana, though you don't know the cute blond girl he's dancing with. The burn of a blush creeps up your neck as you linger on Nico's hand clutching at the girl's side, ashamed that you notice the way his eyes rake down her figure. Besides him is Pickles, bouncing around like a pinball and dancing, presumably, with himself. That, at least, makes you smile.

"Bottoms up!" Nicole announces, handing a shot off to you. Her and Ruby share a terse smile. You wish they'd get along better, they are so incredibly alike.

You down the shot, letting the warm burn fill you. "Next one's on me!" you say, putting the glass down on the table and standing. "Anyone gonna dance?"

Ruby stills and Nicole proclaims she's not ready, turning back towards the bar to get another drink. Brad scans the crowd, though his eyes seem to trail after Nicole as she flirts with the bartender.

"Joey?"

The chef shakes his head. "Sorry, sunshine, as soon as this beer's done I'm out of here." He shakes his half full bottle of Coors at you. You put your hands on your hips, feigning appall. "You're all boring." With that, you jump into the crowd next to Pickles and bump your hip into his in time with the music.

"Y/N!!!" Pickles beams, flinging his arms around you and squeezing. "I'm so happy you're here!"

You squeeze Pickles just as hard, then take his hand to let him twirl you around. As you spin your eyes lock with Nico's, unaware that he'd even noticed you were here. You smile at him over Pickles' shoulder, and his lips pull into that lazy half-grin he sometimes gives you from behind the line. The blond he is with is lightning fast though, putting her hands on either side of his face to pull his focus back to her.

Your chest tightens, but the music changes to a song with a fast bass that dissolves the knots forming. You grab onto Pickles' hands and you jump together while sing-screaming the lyrics at each other. This goes on for awhile, the songs bleeding into each other, each one hyping you and Pickles up more and more.

The latest song begins to fade and Pickles leans into you, panting. "I need water."

You nod in agreement, fanning yourself with the neck of your shirt. Hands entwined, Pickles pulls you off the dance floor. Ruby and Joey are exactly where you'd left them, a few more beer bottles discarded around the table and hands waving wildly as they argue about something. Nicole stands a few feet away, back leisurely pressed against the bar. She's making exaggerated expressions over her espresso martini glass. You follow her eye line as you press up to the bar next to her and realize she is silently judging Brad's dance partner. Brad's eyebrows react back to her, and though not a word passes either of their lips, they are having a full blown conversation. Gracefully, Brad untangles himself from the girl, walking back over to Nicole in defeat. "I didn't think she was that bad."

"I didn't say a word," Nicole responds, smugly.

Barely hiding a smirk as the bartender approaches, you ask for two waters, handing a cup over to Pickles when they're given to you. The song changes just as the water hits your lips. The familiar opening bars to a Queen song fills the club. You turn to Pickles, eyes meeting each other in pure delight and the water cups are immediately discarded. "Oh we're ALL dancing to this one!" You proclaim, latching onto Nicole and Brad's wrists. You pull them forward, pushing them to follow Pickles onto the floor before you turn on Ruby and Joey. "You guys too, let's go! C'mon Joseph!" Ruby gets up, feigning reluctance as she lets you prod her along while you pull Joey by the crook of his elbow onto the floor with you.

You meet the others just in time to hear the girl Nico had been dancing with pout over the song being lame. She leaves when she realizes Nico's attention is totally lost for the moment. The song may not be her thing, but it also probably didn't help the way Pickles was jumping on top of Nico with abandon, holding absolutely no regard for her attempt to continue grinding. You all surround Nico, singing at the top of your lungs and jostling him in the middle of your mini mosh pit. Even Joey belts out a few words and plays air drums along with Nico's air guitar. Nicole catches it all on video, instantly sending it to Bridgette.

"Alright, alright. I'm outta here," Joey says as the song ends, waving his hands in front of his chest when you groan in protest. He pulls Nico in for an overly aggressive hug and slap on the back. "And don't any of yous be late tomorrow. I'm not dealing with a Terry temper tantrum." A chorus of 'bye Joey' and eye rolls reply to him.

"I'm heading out too. Happy Birthday," Ruby adds, a near smile hinting at her lips before following her boss towards the exit.

"Need. Water." Pickles pants again and heads back to the bar, just as the blond girl re-enters and takes up Pickles' spot next to Nico. Nicole and Brad, who have somehow gotten into an argument about how to make a proper gin martini, are so lost in their own bickering that they haven't noticed the crowd jostling around them. You stand awkwardly next to them, not wanting to get involved but feeling like you can't exactly escape either. Holding your arms across your chest, you sway uncertainly.

A hand find yours, and you look over your shoulder to see Nico tugging you back towards him. "It's not too early to cash in on a birthday dance is it?" He smiles at you in that aloof way, his eyes focusing in on you. A question bubbles on your tongue, wanting to know where the blond went but you decide you'd rather not know. "No, not too early. Right on time, I think," you smile back, fitting your arms around his neck.

His left hand is soft against your lower back, fingers guiding you to sway back and forth in time with the music. You're moving slow, the beat lost as you can feel the inches between you and Nico closing. The club is nothing but Nico's dark eyes swallowing you, the weight of his arms pulling around you until you're poised to meld together. You can't take the heat of Nico's eyes on you anymore so you hide against his collarbone, eyes shutting and letting the smell of earth and smoke on his shirt collar encompass your whole world. You're not sure if the thrumming you feel is the bass or your own heart, if you're still dancing or just standing still wrapped up in Nico's arms.

Suddenly you're knocked backwards, stumbling over your own feet until you hit up against someone. "Hey!" a voice shouts, indignant and you mumble an apology as you try to find reality again. "What the fuck, man," Nico's saying, head turning to glare at the man who'd shoved him and caused you to nearly fall on your ass. The guy is standing over him, absolutely beaming. When Nico finally sees him, he starts laughing. "Oh! Yo, I almost fucked you up man!" The two start shoving each other, albeit playfully, as more guys surround Nico, shouldering anyone, including you, out of the way to land punches and smacks on Nico's shoulder and stomach.

You feel disoriented, discarded even, as you slowly find your way back to the edge of the dance floor. You find the others there, all looking towards the sea of newcomers that have swallowed Nico. "Who are those guys?" you ask, hating how defeated your voice sounds.

"I think they used to work with Nico at Waffle House, at least some of them did," Pickles informs you. You try not to watch him assess you, ignoring the slight frown he wears as he turns to the bar to order another water. You drink it slowly when he hands it to you, watching the amorphous blob of raucous men completely take over the dance floor.

"And that's my cue to leave," Nicole asserts. "Ready?" she looks at you expectantly.

You should leave. You know this in the way you feel cold and unsure and slightly humiliated but you can't ignore that something just opened up between you and Nico. You're not quite ready to leave whatever that is behind yet.

"I'll drive you home," Brad interjects, saving you from having to say anything at all. You're not sure if he could sense your hesitation or if he was just looking for an opening of his own, but you're grateful nonetheless. As long as Nicole agrees.

Her eyes flit to Brad, assessing him with the quickness of a hummingbird's wings. "Let's go then," she says as if it's a challenge, daring Brad to follow through on something unspoken. You watch them disappear, Brad's hand hovering at the small of Nicole's back as she leads them through the crowd.

Next to you, Pickles rifles through his front jean pocket. He pulls out a bag of Skittles, pours some into his hands and offers them to you. "You don't have to stay for me you know," he chirps, "I told Nico I'd drive him home so I'm here for the long run."

You shove the Skittles into your mouth, the candy sticking to your teeth. You look towards the dance floor, watching the group of men you don't know chatting up different girls and pointing them towards Nico. You fix a smile on your face for Pickles. "I'm having too much fun to leave."

Pickles nods, giving you a look that's somewhere between skepticism and pity. You sigh, letting your shoulders sag and the pit in your stomach swallow you down with its full weight before putting your hand back out for Pickles to fill with more candy. Instead you feel a warm weight in your hand. You look up to see Nico, hand wrapping around yours. "You're still here," he's beaming at you, though his eyes are so glassy you're not sure how he can even see you clearly.

"Yeah," you answer softly, wishing you could stop the smile that's spreading from cheek to cheek.

"I think you need water," Pickles says after assessing Nico's wobbly stance, excusing himself from the table. Nico's still standing over you, hand in yours. "Our dance got interrupted," he says, his signature lazy laugh chasing after his words. He starts to move to the music that's playing, eyes slowly shutting. A heavy arm slams into his shoulder, and in the startle Nico slips his hand away from yours.

"You gonna introduce me?" It's the same guy that shoved into Nico while you two were dancing. His eyes waggle towards you in a way that makes you recoil.

"Oh uh, Carmine this is--"

He interrupts before Nico can finish. "No, let me guess. Nicole, right? Or are you Amber?"

You frown. "Neither. Actually, you just missed Nicole."

"Damn!" Carmine snaps his finger. "I really wanted to see the hottie my boy won't shut up about it."

"Bro," Nico says, with what could be a glare if his eyes were alert at all.

"Nah, I mean, you're cute too, don't get me wrong. What's your name sweetheart?"

"I'm nobody," you answer, hastily. "And I'm leaving so…have a good night. It was nice to meet you." You stand, ignoring the hushed way Nico tries to stall you. You put a hand on his shoulder to stop his fretting. "Happy birthday, Nico." You lean in, landing a soft, barely there kiss to his cheek. Eyes glued to the exit sign, you walk as fast as you can towards it before you completely lose your composure. You even ignore Pickles when he calls your name, pretending not to hear the way he asks Nico what happened to make you run off.

You look back at the dance floor quickly, noticing Nico's red bandana bob and sway in the crowd. You leave before it gets too close. The cold air outside hits you in the face like a brick, clearing your senses and leaving you with a weird empty feeling. Like you had something in the palm of your hand but it's slipped through your fingers. You walk a few feet, until the music is no longer drumming in your ears, and lean against the wall of a closed Chinese takeout. Your hands brace against your knees and you let yourself breathe. You can feel tears start to prick at your eyes but you're too drained to fight them off. You can't help but wonder what the hell that was all about. Your feelings for Nico aren't entirely a secret to anyone, certainly not to yourself, though you hope you've always held your composure well enough. You're always hiding your blushing cheeks when he flirts and batting away Nicole and Amber's teasing when they catch you smiling to yourself after leaving the kitchen. But you always held it arm's length, knowing it was all just part of the fun with Nico. It can't ever be serious with him, it just can't be.

"Y/N."

His voice is like a rasps against the wind. You brush your eyes quickly, straightening up as Nico jogs haphazardly towards you.

"Why'd you leave so fast?" he says, breathing heavy as he catches up to you.

"Sorry, yeah, I um, I didn't realize how late it was," you lie.

"Are you mad or somethin'?"

You shake your head as he contemplates you. Eventually he leans against the wall next to you, pulling his vape out for a long pull, as if that's going to help him breathe any easier.

You shrug one shoulder up. "I didn't want to overstay my welcome, is all," you admit quietly, trying to escape the track of his eyes on you. His lids are heavy almost closing as he rests his head back against the wall, yet he won't take his eyes off you. "Not possible for you to do that."

"I have to go, Nico." You say gently.

"Don't." Nico says, hand finding yours again. Entwining your fingers together, Nico tugs you towards him and you oblige, leaning against your side so you're facing him. His head falls into the crook of your neck and you can feel him nuzzling against the sensitive skin there.

"Nico," you protest without any real harshness or edge to your tone. Just a sadness that you can't mask the way you normally would.

"Stay," he pleads, hand trailing down your back. "Everyone else can leave, if it means you'll stay." His words murmur against your skin. Lips press against the side of your neck so gentle you're not sure you really feel anything at all. You sigh as he moves further up, letting him land soft little kisses up your neck to the nape of your ear. He nips at your lobe and that's when you have to push him away.

"Nico," you say firmly, putting a hand against his chest to make distance. He smirks as his head lolls back against the brick wall.

"C'mon baby," his hand hooks around your wrist, thumb running gentle circles. "I know you want me."

Your heart drops, sinking into the deepest pit of your stomach. You wretch away from him. "Don't be an asshole."

Nico's bloodshot eyes widen and he shakes his head as he stumbles forward trying to cling onto you again. "No, no, no. I want it too. YOU, I mean, I want YOU too."

He's holding onto your wrists, knees slightly bent as he sways in the non-existent wind. You're afraid he's going to fall down and you won't have the strength to pick him up so you walk him back towards the wall so he can lean against it. You try to pull your hand from him but he just holds on even tighter. "It's your birthday, you're drunk and you're just trying to get laid. There's a million girls in that club that would be happy to go home with you. Please don't do this to me, Nico. It's not fair. "

"They're not you. I don't want them."

"You don't want me either!" you laugh, incredulously.

Nico's mouth drops open, eyebrows shooting straight up as if they're going to hide in his bandana. "You're all I want!" You don't know how to respond to that. You stare back towards the club hoping Pickles or Carmine or someone will appear and come take him away so you can just go home and forget this entire night happened.

"I like you SO much," Nico confesses, eyes still wide and words slurring together. "Like, I haven't even quit once since you started working. Every time I get to see you it makes all the like bullshit worth it. I know it's kinda crazy, you and me. You deserve a lot better."

All the wind knocks out of you. You try to process what Nico is saying, justify it against the way his eyes glaze over with alcohol and weed. "You're drunk," you say again, an explanation.

"Yeah," he smiles, lopsided. "No way I'd ever tell you this shit if I wasn't."

And though his eyes are barely open there's a sincerity to his words. "You know," he continues, "I've seen our future, if we like, try this. It's all good baby, just me and you forever. 'Till the four kids of course."

"Four?" you laugh,"That seems like a lot."

"Okay maybe two, and a cat named Lucy."

"I'd like a cat," you smile, leaning against him as Nico wraps his arms around your waist. You can feel the stretch of his smile against your cheek as he spreads kisses across your face. He moves closer to your mouth and you can feel his lips reach out for yours. You catch his head between your palms. "Not while you're drunk," you reprimand gently.

"That's fair. I can fuck with that," Nico smiles. "Tomorrow then. I'm taking out for breakfast before our shift and I'mma kiss the shit out of you."

"Sure," you smile back. "IF you remember any of this."

"Oh, baby, I'll never forget it."

Nico grabs you, picking you up off the ground as he twirls you just slightly. You're a little afraid you're both going to fall and tumble to the ground but he makes it around a little half circle before setting you back down. You throw your arms around his neck, holding him close as he nuzzles deep against your cheek.

Your phone pings, notifying you of a text. You pull it out from your purse, swiping it open while Nico continues to nestle into you. It's from Nicole, a picture of she took of you and Nico dancing. In it you're pressed against him, face hidden in his collar as he looks down on you with an expression of pure serenity. Looking at it you can't help the butterflies that swarm within you. You hold Nico even tighter, hiding your big, wide grin against his hair.

[thenanbakacorner]

Hi! I hope you’re doing well. Can you do some headcannons of the boys of building 13 or 5 for abuse/trauma comfort? Thank you!

Hiii, I'm doing good, ty!! Absolutely! These boys'll do everything in their power to shoo the sad away!!

I went with the Building 13 boys for this, but feel free to send another ask asking for the boys of Building 5 if you wanna see theirs!

* * *

🔓 Jyugo 🔓

Jyugo is quite perceptive of other's emotions, so he picks up on your negative mood before you even say anything

He's by your side in an instant, silently asking what's wrong and if there's anything he can do to help

If you're hesitant to tell him, he'll assure you that you can talk to him and he'll gently coax you, but if you aren't ready, he won't push it

He's silent as he allows you to vent your frustrations, and takes your hand to provide a bit of wordless comfort until you let everything out

Runs a hand up and down your back to soothe any tears that fall, quietly shushing you, murmuring that you're okay, that you're safe

"It's okay, Y/N. You're safe here with us. Nothing/Nobody will ever hurt you again as long as I'm around. I promise you that."

🎲 Uno 🎲

Uno is quick to realize something is amiss with you with how silent and distant you seem, and approaches you as soon as he possibly can

A hand on your cheek, he gently asks what the matter is, his cerulean blue eyes gazing warmly into your own

A soft look of concern and sadness flits across his face as you explain to him what's been ailing you, and he runs his thumb across your eye to dry any tears there

"Aww.. there there, Y/N. I've got you. (Trauma/Abuser) can't hurt you anymore. Not while I'm here."

He wraps his arms around you and holds you close, petting the back of your head gently as he quietly shushes you and dries your tears

Won't let go of you until your tears have run dry, and when you pull away from the hug, he'll squish your cheeks lightly and ask with a warm smile, "Now, where's my happy Y/N? Huh? There they are!~"

🍩 Rock 🍩

As soon as he picks up on your upset state, he's pulling you aside and putting his hands on your shoulders, a concerned look on his face

He asks what's wrong, voice stern yet gentle, worried for your emotional well being

Frowns when you start telling him what's wrong, and keeps his hold on you, a thumb rolling back and forth against your shoulder to soothe you as you speak

When you start to tear up, he lifts a hand to wipe away the tears before they have the chance to fall, and he pulls you into a warm hug, hooking his chin against your shoulder

"It's alright, Y/N, everything's okay now. I won't let anything or anyone harm you ever again, I'll make sure of it."

He stands there and allows you to sob into his shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into your upper back as he whispers gentle words of comfort and reassurance

💊 Nico 💊

You don't even need to try to hide your emotions from this boy-- he can just tell you're down in the dumps by looking at you

Is quick to come up to you and ask what's wrong, taking your hands into his own and holding them against his chest as his eyes meet yours

His heart breaks for you with every word you say, and he completely relates to the pain you've gone through with his own fair share of trauma and abuse

He envelops you in a big, tight hug and nuzzles against your cheek, trying not to cry himself

"I'm so, so sorry, Y/N..! It'll be okay, though; we've got each other now.. you're safe!"

Absolutely refuses to let go as he clings to you and you cling to him. You'll be cuddled till the two of you fall asleep for all he cares!

[capquinn]

Do It For Me | N. Hischier

summary: nico takes what he wants — needs — and you let him, soft and pliant beneath him, made to be used, made to be his. pairing: nico hischier x sub!reader content: MDNI 18+ only smut, p in v, overstimulation, dirty talk, unprotected sex, spanking, squirting, word count: 2.3k note: at this point if i'm posting smut, trust that filthy things are being said in the group chat ↪masterlist

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve come — how many times he’s pulled you over the edge, how many times he’s dragged another orgasm out of you like it’s nothing. Your body is spent, trembling, your legs shaking beneath him, but he doesn’t stop. Won’t stop. And you don't want him to.

Because it’s not about you — hasn’t been from the start. It's about him. About the way you’re still gasping for breath, the way your fingers weakly clutch at the sheets like you’re trying to ground yourself, the way your body gives itself to him, muscles loose, limbs boneless, completely at his mercy.

Nico groans, low and wrecked, a hand sliding up your spine, pressing down between your shoulder blades until your chest is flush against the bed. The shift makes you moan, makes your back arch, makes him sink even deeper, and fuck, he feels it — feels the way you shudder, feels the way your toes curl when he stays there, buried to the hilt, just grinding against you, making you take every inch.

"That’s it, baby," he mutters, his teeth scraping along the curve of your shoulder.

He likes you like this — half-gone, barely able to move, taking everything he gives you. The way you're so soft and pliant beneath him, letting him use you however he wants because you know that’s exactly what he needs.

His fingers slip down, skating over the mess between your thighs, feeling just how soaked you still are, and he smirks, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw as his other hand fists in the sheets beside your head, steadying himself.

"So fucking perfect for me," he breathes, snapping his hips forward again, chasing that familiar heat curling low in his stomach.

You whimper into the sheets, body twitching beneath him, but you don’t pull away. You never do. And that’s what drives him fucking insane. That he doesn’t have to ask. Doesn’t have to coax. You’re already there, already his, already so eager to let him take.

"You’re not even trying to stop me," he mutters, amused, voice thick with satisfaction. His hands slide over your body, slow and deliberate, fingers tracing the curve of your waist before skimming up your ribs, like he’s memorising every inch of you. "You just let me, huh?"

He takes his time, dragging it out, savouring the way your body gives to him, how you whimper into the sheets, how you shudder every time he sinks in deep and slow. His grip is firm, keeping you where he wants — folded beneath him, back arched, cheek pressed against the bed, your knees spread wide, open, ready for him. You don’t fight it, don’t push him away, don’t even try. Just let him fuck you like you were made for it, like this is the only thing you’re meant to do.

And fuck, you do it so well. So easily. Even when your body trembles, even when you’re already wrecked, already spent, skin damp with sweat, thighs shaking from the force of your last orgasm.

But that’s what makes it better. That’s what he loves most — seeing you like this, seeing how completely you give yourself to him over and over, how you let him have you. All of you.

And that’s what you love too. The way he needs this. The way he needs you. How his hands tighten on your hips like he can’t get enough, how he groans when you arch just a little more, offering yourself up for him, because you want to be wanted like this.

"That’s my girl," he mutters, dragging his teeth along your shoulder before pressing a kiss there, holy and filthy all at once.

You let out a soft, broken whimper, trying to squirm away, but there’s nowhere to go — nowhere you’d rather be, really — not when his hands tighten on your hips, not when his cock is still buried deep inside you, still dragging against every sensitive spot that has you begging for more and running away all at once.

He feels everything — the way you pulse around him, the way your breath hitches with every deep stroke, the way you squeeze him so fucking tight like you don’t really want him to stop. You’re perfect like this, letting him have you, letting him chase his pleasure without hesitation.

Like hell he’s letting you go. Not when you feel this good, not when your body is still so wet for him, still clenching down like you need him there.

He pushes himself up, chest peeling away from your back as he kneels between your spread thighs, never once slipping out, never once breaking his rhythm. The new angle has you gasping, has your hands fisting in the sheets until your knuckles turn white, has him watching the way you shudder under him, the way your body still gives even as you writhe beneath his hands. Even when you’re trying so hard to escape the overwhelming pleasure that’s got you teetering on the edge.

"No, schatzi," he groans, voice wrecked, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you back onto his cock, guiding you into every deep stroke, letting you feel every inch, every pulse of him inside you. "You can take it, baby."

You sob into the sheets, thighs shaking, muscles twitching, but you don’t tell him to stop — can’t, not when you’re already this far gone, not when the pleasure has you dizzy, floating, wrecked.

And he knows. Knows your body better than you do, knows you’re right on the edge of another one, knows you like this. Like the way he doesn’t slow down, doesn’t let up, even when it’s too much.

"Feels so good when you’re like this," he mutters, voice thick, head tilting down to watch — to see himself stretching you, see the way you drip down onto his cock, see the way your thighs tremble but never close.

One hand smooths up your spine, tracing the sweat-slick curve of it, before pressing between your shoulder blades, forcing you deeper into the mattress, angling your hips higher. The other smacks down across your ass, hard and fast, making you jolt, making your breath catch in a sharp, broken wail. The sting blooms hot beneath his palm, sending another sharp pulse of pleasure through you, making your walls flutter around him, making you squeeze him even tighter. Making every slow, deep drag of his cock through your soaking heat even filthier.

His head tips back, a low, guttural moan slipping from his lips because fuck, you’re still so warm, so tight, still gripping him even though he’s been fucking you open for so long.

"That’s it, baby, take it," he groans, slamming forward, grinding deep. He’s gone now, completely lost in the way you wrap around him, your body responding to him, offering more with every thrust.

And then you break.

A sharp, high-pitched whine catches in your throat, your body tensing beneath him before you come undone, overwhelmed, overstimulated, pleasure crashing over you in waves.

Your moans dissolve into soft, desperate sobs, hands clawing at the sheets, thighs trembling as another orgasm rips through you, dragging you under. It’s too much, too intense, and your body reacts before your mind can catch up — twisting, squirming, trying to turn over, trying to shift beneath him like you can escape the pleasure that’s got you spiralling.

But no fucking way is he letting you slip away from him.

Nico growls low in his throat, hands gripping you tight, and before you can even process what’s happening, he grabs your hips, pulls out just long enough to flip you onto your back, your body pliant, wrecked, barely able to move before he’s already pushing back in, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth, brutal thrust.

"I know, baby, I know," he coos, but it’s nothing but taunting and indulgent as he watches you shudder beneath him, still locked in your orgasm.

His hands slide down, grip behind your knees, pushing them up and apart, folding you open so he can get deeper. He groans, dropping his head, watching the way you spread for him, the way your cunt grips him, and it’s so fucking messy, slick and filthy, and fuck, he needs more.

One hand leaves your leg, moves between your bodies, fingers pressing against your soaked clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles as he fucks you through it, as he drags out your pleasure, as he forces another orgasm to build before you’ve even come down from the last one.

And then he feels it.

The way your body locks up beneath him, muscles tensing so hard it makes your breath hitch, your nails digging into his thighs as a sharp, broken cry rips from your throat. Your back arches, thighs twitching in his grip, and then — fuck.

A gush of wetness spills between you, sudden and overwhelming, soaking his cock, dripping onto his thighs, splashing warm against his abs. Nico falters — just for a second, his hips stilling, eyes flicking down in pure, stunned awe as he watches it happen, as he feels the way you gush for him, your swollen, pink cunt pulsing, fluttering, completely wrecked.

That’s it. That’s it.

A rough, wrecked groan spills from his lips, his grip tightening behind your knees as he snaps his hips forward, dragging out another slick, obscene sound as he fucks into you harder, faster, chasing the way you shudder, the way you moan beneath him.

"Holy fuck," he breathes, voice rough, his fingers digging into your skin, keeping you spread wide open, watching as you drip for him, as his cock grinds through the mess pooling between your thighs.

It’s obscene — the wet, slick drag of him, the way your body keeps giving, keeps offering him more, even though you’re already spent, already trembling beneath him.

His other hand slides to your lower belly, pressing down just enough to make you feel him, every deep stroke, every slow, devastating roll of his hips. To make sure you know how deep he is, how full he’s got you, how there’s nowhere to go — nowhere to run from the pleasure that’s wrecking you from the inside out.

"You feel that, baby?" he rasps, grinding into you, his rhythm messy now, frantic, desperate. His thumb finds your swollen, oversensitive clit, rubbing fast, cruel circles, dragging another broken sob from your lips. "Fuck... look at you."

But he doesn’t let you look. Doesn’t give you time to breathe. Doesn’t let you come down — not when you’re still soaking him, not when your body is still so fucking hot and wet around him.

Nope.

He needs more. Needs to feel you break again, needs to chase that wet, messy release all over again.

"That’s it, baby. Give me one more," he mutters, rolling his hips deep, dragging himself through your soaked heat, through the mess of it, through the wreckage of the last orgasms he’s already pulled from you. "I know you can. Do it for me."

And you do.

Your body shatters beneath him again, thighs trembling, trying to close, trying to run from the intensity, but Nico doesn’t let you. He leans in, chest pressing flush against yours, his weight sinking into you, his hips forcing your legs open, keeping you there, holding you still, making sure you take everything he gives.

"Nico."

Your cry of his name is wrecked, punched out of you as your body clenches tight around him, trembling, desperate. Your fingers twist in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp as you yank him closer, thighs squeezing around his hips, locking him in, holding him exactly where you want him.

A rough, broken groan tears from his chest as his hips snap forward once last time, burying himself deep, grinding into you as his own pleasure breaks over him. His breath catches, his fingers tighten where they grip your waist, his whole body shaking as he comes, hot and thick, filling you up, making sure you take all of it.

His thrusts slow, turning into this slow, dragged-out grind, like he’s chasing the feeling, like he doesn’t want to pull away from you yet, doesn’t want to leave the heat of you wrapped around him. His body is heavy against yours, his breath hot, uneven, spilling across your skin as he presses his forehead to yours, lips parting like he wants to say something but can’t — too lost in the feeling, too wrecked, too fucking gone.

His hands move without thought, without hesitation, already easing into gentleness, sliding down your sides, smoothing over the slight tremors still running through you.

"Fuck, baby," he breathes, voice low, hushed, still thick with the remnants of pleasure, his body heavy against yours, pressing you deeper into the mattress as he lingers in the aftermath.

His lips find your temple first, then your cheek, then the curve of your jaw — soft, lingering kisses, slow and reverent, like he’s grounding himself in you, memorising the way you feel beneath him, under him. His. Just his. All his.

His hips keep moving in slow, lazy grinds like he’s soothing you, like he’s soothing himself, chasing that last bit of warmth, of connection, of you.

"So fucking good for me," he mutters against your skin, his hands slipping lower, smoothing over your thighs, massaging where his grip had been firm before.

He stays deep, buried inside you, unwilling to leave just yet, unwilling to let go of the warmth, the intimacy, the quiet hum of pleasure still pulsing between you.

"Took me so fucking perfectly, schatzi," he murmurs, lips pressed to your shoulder, voice softer now, lower, his weight pressing solid against you. "My sweet girl... My good girl."

[rinnsverse]

Hi!! Can I request headcanons about being best friends with Nico and Will (together), kinda having that “couple who adopts their bsf as their child” dynamic reader is a child of Demeter and if it’s no trouble can reader be female? GN will work if not.

SOLANGELO +1 — headcanons

you call it third wheeling, i call it quality time with the parents

CHAR: will solace, nico di angelo, grover, mentioned!percy jackson, mentioned!annabeth chase

PAIRING(S): solangelo + daughter of demeter!reader, mentioned!percabeth

A/N: this is gonna be a nightmare to tag lmao

when new campers meet Will for the first time, they’re almost always introduced to Nico next

what they don’t expect, is for you to pop out of nowhere introducing yourself as well

they jump slightly at your sudden appearance, and reciprocate your greeting with slight confusion in their voice but then Will gladly explains the situation

“This is Y/N, daughter of Demeter.”

“Yeah, and these are my dads.”

“Y/N that’s not—“

it would be so much funnier if you were taller than both of them

that sends some campers in a spiral, especially the younger ones

once the new camper is recovered they then automatically understand the true nature of y’all’s relationship

some are slightly confused on why you seem so glad with the arrangement you three have going but most support it and find it amusing

if the three of you are ever going anywhere you’re usually in the front as the actual couple trail behind you holding hands

all of the friendship accessories you three own are thanks to you!

you made matching bracelets, a custom bead to add to the camp necklace just for the three of you, and the cliché flower crowns your cabin is known for

the flower crown was made of an assortment of flowers — lilies, chrysanthemums, and sunflowers which all not coincidentally mean or have some correlation to friendship

you have most definitely been the first to witness Will playing a love song to Nico in private

not wanting to interrupt the moment you made all the plants in the area grow greener and have flowers sprout around them

it was a miracle on how both of them didn’t notice your antic sooner

as you were making the plants grow around them from the bush, Will had stopped strumming as Nico looked at him with one of his rare smiles when they both leaned into each other

but of course Nico just had to feel the suddenly grown flowers tickling at his ankles and immediately spotted you — watching you run away from your hiding spot

that situation is what led to you to believe was the reason you kept on being invited to their dates

were you complaining? no, of course not

you had the ability to snack on all their food after all and they have no one but themselves to blame

“Where did the cookies even go?”

“…whoops.”

as their honorary child you were not technically counted as a third-wheel

Will had jokingly dubbed it a ‘family bonding time’ whenever you joined in on his Nico’s time together — them not even doing anything special, but you still joined anyways — and the name stuck

in all honesty Will is happy with the arrangement you all have together

don’t get him wrong, he would enjoy the moments he and Nico have together all the same even if you weren’t there, but your presence and witty comments coming from nowhere make it all the more cherished

also, your ability to make scenes more romantic is very highly appreciated; making him choose more woody and grassy areas so it’s easier for you to romanticize them

Nico on the other hand would’ve enjoyed it more if he and Will were alone away from your eyes

but he supposed yours was different — making the moments they both have feel more domestic so he didn’t necessarily consider any of his or Will’s actions PDA when it was you

you never really paid attention anyways

the romanticized scenery caused by you made Nico scoff but he was grateful for the added atmosphere — which was quite a compliment since he normally disliked such clichés

Grover once tried to talk to you about it and relate to the feeling of being the third-wheel like he was with Percy and Annabeth

it didn’t lead to an outcome he expected

“And they’re like: ‘be safe. I love you,’ and then I’m just standing there wondering if they’ll ever tell me that because you know, life-or-death situation going on right? But they never do!”

“Damn bro, that sucks.“

“Does this not happen to you?”

“Nope. We yell at each other to be safe.”

A/N: school is absolute shit

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Must Be A Full Moon 🌕 (Werewolf!Nico x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Nicolas “Nico” Brown x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You’ve been dating Nico for about five months now and you couldn’t be happier with him. He’s big, he’s sexy, he’s protective, and he listens! He’s the perfect boyfriend…except for one thing: you haven’t had sex yet. Every time you come close to it, he always makes an excuse and leaves your apartment before anything more than kissing can happen. What is it, you wonder? Is he not sexually attracted to you? Is he nervous? What could it be? One dark night, while the moon is high in the sky after a costume party, you get your answer…and everything you’ve been craving from your big, strong, sexy boyfriend.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Boyfriend!Nico; Established Relationship; Transformation; Monsterf*cking; Dom!Nico + sub!Reader; Black-Coded!Reader (but anyone can still read this); Spanking; Biting; Marking; Scent Play; 69; Knotting; Doggystyle; Sex Against The Window; Voyeurism; Creampie; Reader Cums 3x; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I haven’t something for my baby daddy Nicolas in a minute now. I just adore him. Enjoy & HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! 🎃🖤 -Jazz

***********

It is dark tonight, this Halloween. Very dark. The darkest it’s ever been, the newspapers said.

But not even the tiniest bit of fear runs through you. Not with your big, scary man at your side.

You giggle under the glowing gaslamp illuminating the cobblestones and darkened windows of the barren town. You turn on your heeled Mary Jane that goes with your Red Riding Hood costume, smiling shyly at your boyfriend.

“I had a really good time tonight, Nicolas,” you say, your voice soft and breathy. Seductive. You hope he catches on, glad that the alcohol from the party earlier has emboldened you. The many vodka shots, sweetened with chocolate, candy corn, and sour apple, have also softened the edges of your vision, making everything look softer, rosey, and nice…including your boyfriend.

The corner of his lips lift into a small, sexy smile that makes your stomach and lady parts flutter. “I’m glad,” he mutters.

But he always looks nice. Nice and sexy. You could barely keep your hands off of him at the costume party tonight, your hands stroking his chest, arms, or anywhere else you could that wasn’t his cock. He, on the other hand, had no issue putting a hand on your thigh under a table or placing a hand on your ass if someone even looked at you and your cute costume.

Worick and Alex had invited you out for the party about a week ago, something they do every Halloween in your small, shitty town. Every Halloween-lover, drinker, and young, dumb person in town came to your favorite bar/nightclub to dress up and party. You’re usually weary about large crowds in condensed spaces, but Nico being there made you feel 100% better.

You can’t explain how his presence makes you feel. You love him near you, even when you’re just sitting on the couch or cuddling in bed. He makes you feel so safe. So protected. Despite his bigger size, you love feeling so small beside him. Plus, the fact that he’s big enough to pick you up and break you like a toothpick turns you on more than words can say.

You have a thing for big men, hence why Worick and Nico caught your eye when Alex introduced you to them at a bar once. But it’s Nico who grabbed your attention…sweet, attentive, quiet, shy, awkward, and slightly terrifying Nico.

You’ve been dating him for five months and they’ve been the best! The dates are exciting and romantic. The kisses are electric. You find yourself falling deeper and deeper for him every day you talk to him or see him which he often does when he’s passing through your neighborhood for a mission. You can’t ask for a better partner.

Except for one thing: the sex is nonexistent. While yes, you don’t have to be sexual with EVERY man you date, you want to be sexual with YOUR man now. You can’t help it! Nico is too delicious to not be in your bed or on your couch completely naked and buried in one of your holes.

For the past month, your nights have been filled with hot dreams of the two of you locked together, Nico fucking you stupid. You often daydream about what his cock looks like or how he’d taste. What do his moans sound like? How does he look when he cums?

In addition to the past month, you’ve been trying in vain to get him to come into your apartment after date nights with promises of more wine or a cup of tea. You’ve tried other things too: wearing tighter dresses and low-cut tops to show off your ample chest and shapely figure; sending him flirty, late night voicemails; kissing him just a little longer than usual when he or you have to go home.

But alas…nothing has happened. It’s disappointing and disheartening, but you won’t give up. Not until your stud of a boyfriend is buried in your sheets AND in you. Hence why you invited him out tonight.

“I hope you had fun too,” you say, taking his bigger hand in your smaller, daniter ones. Even his hand is bigger than your wrist. God, why won’t he just fuck you already?! “I know you’re not much of a party person, but I appreciate you taking me.”

You give him a shy, loving smile that he returns. To anyone watching, you look like two lovebirds falling deeper for each other under the lamplight. “I hope Worick didn’t scare you off too much,” he signs, momentarily dropping your hands to do so.

You’ve been studying sign language for years now having someone in your family who is deaf. Not to mention that you’ve had deaf patients as a nurse working at your local hospital. Nico has also been teaching you other signs, his eyes brightening when you sign back to him. You love seeing that bright look of joy and pride in his gaze.

You sign a little bit now, only doing what you know. “Please! He’s annoying sober, so him acting up off theBourbon is nothing. I just hope Alex knows what she’s in for.” Nico laughs and you laugh with him, knowing that Warwick is loose monster when he’s drunk and will no doubt want to roleplay with Alex tonight in her cat costume.

The laughter dies now and you’re soon left with the sounds of the night: a lone owl hooting, a dog barking, a crisp breeze blowing in the trees. “Oh!” you say just because you want him to stay. “And thank you for, uh….dressing up. I knew you weren’t gonna wear that fursuit.”

Nico smirks as you play with the furry tail that he attached to his back pocket just for you. Strangely, it fits well with his black jeans, tight black V-neck, and leather jacket. “Glad I didn’t disappoint you,” he signs. His soft brown eyes roam over your hood and frilly, velvet dress that you paired with some white thigh-high stockings, Mary Jane heels, and a corset that pushes your breasts enticingly up in his face.

“You?!” you scoff, your eyes widening at him. You wave a passive, freshly-manicured hand. Your nails are shiny and blood red. Pretty…probably prettier wrapped around your man’s cock.”No way! I’m just happy you went along with my costume for tonight. Alex helped me pick it out.”

You begin to swish your hips in your dress, making the red and white frills sway around your thighs. Nico watches, transfixed by your legs and the way your titties jiggle in your corset. “Cute,” he sighs, his voice deep and raspy. It makes something tingle in you.

Your heart pounds against your chest, somehow making your ears ring. “Really?” you whisper. “You think so?” You fill the gap between you, just a mere inch that you fill with only two steps towards him.

You wrap your arms around Nico’s thick neck while he ropes his around your waist, nearly lifting you up off of the ground. You giggle, your nose brushing with his. “Mmm-hmm,” he hums. “So pretty.” Then he’s kissing you, his soft, juicy lips tasting of whiskey. He smells faintly of smoke from the bar and his favorite Irish Spring soap.

God, this man! He seduces you with one mere touch. One whiff of him. One kiss. You want him so badly. Your nipples harden under your costume and your panties are already soaked. You deepen the kiss, hoping he can understand just what you need.

But just as quickly as the kiss happens, it ends and Nico slowly lowers you down onto your feet. “I should leave,” he signs, looking wearily down the road. He gets anxious around this time of night as anyone would.

Your heart droops like a wilted flower at the mention of his departure. “Oh,” you say, disappointed. “You don’t wanna come in and stay awhile? I-I mean, it’s so late and you pounded as much as Warwick.” You recall the whiskey shot challenge he had with his longtime friend and the apple vodka he shared with you by pouring it into your mouth from his. You were so horny after that.

“Nah,” he signs. “Tired. You need rest too.” He pats your head, only disappointing you further. You want that hand on your throat or spanking your ass till it stings.

The alcohol works its damned magic and soon, you’re spilling out the words you’ve been keeping in: “Nicolas,” you say, swallowing hard. “Why don’t you wanna sleep with me?”

Nico’s brown eyes widen at you, stunned into silence. The only sounds are of a distant owl hooting and your blood pumping in your ears. “What?” he says, too shocked to sign.

You gasp, covering your mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why did you say that?! “I-I’m sorry!” you squeak. “It’s the booze! I-It’s just that we’ve been dating for months and you only come over during the day….a-and you don’t stay the night! I want you to stay the night!”

The truth comes tumbling out, unable to be bottled up anymore. Nico stands there in silence, mouth parted in shock. He had no idea you felt this way and of course, he didn’t. You never told him till now. “Is it me?” you blubber, nervously playing with the tie to your hood. “Are you not sexually attracted to me?”

“No,” he immediately says, his voice gruff and low. He closes the gap between you, his hand on your cheek. “I’m fuckin’ crazy about you, Y/N.” His words are so passionate that they make your face grow hot. He steps back, looking gutted. “I’m sorry,” he signs. “I didn’t mean to make you feel this way. It’s not any of that.”

“Then what is it?” you gently push. He looks away from you then, staring off to the side at a street lamp. “I need you so much, Nico,” you whimper, pressing your hands against his hard chest. “I hug my pillow at night thinking of you next to me….which I wouldn’t have admired without the booze.” Your face feels like it’s on fire, but so does your body. You’re alight with need.

Nico’s eyes switch back to yours, interest and a small flame in them. “Really?” he asks. You nod and he uses his big hands to sign for you: “I think about you too. All of the time.” You smile at this, hope fluttering in your breast. “There’s just something I couldn’t tell you before about me.”

He looks down at his shoes, biting his plump lower lip. You scowl at him, confused and a little scared. Is it something bad? From the way he looks so anxious, it must be. “Something about you?” you parrot. “Then what is it? You can tell me.”

Nico looks back up at you and you can see the moon in them. “I’ll show you,” he says. “C‘mon.” He suddenly takes your hand and leads you to the front door of your apartment building. “Where are we going?” you ask, unable to hide your excitement.

“To bed,” he grunts. You wrench your hand out of his grasp, gaping at him. “What?!” you exclaim. “B-But you’re supposed to show me why you’re not…”

You pause, a sudden yawn escaping your lips. Your boyfriend leans against the doorframe, smirking at you. “M’not tired,” you whine with a cute little pout.

He nods, snickering to himself as you get your key out to unlock the door. “Uh-huh,” he chuckles. “Upstairs.” He presses a hand to your waist as you walk inside with him. You believe you feel his hand trail down to your behind, but you’re not too sure.

“But are you gonna show me what you needed to show me?” you tiredly ask as he leads you up the steps to your floor. “Soon, baby,” he softly says. “Bedtime.”

Bedtime, it is. You don’t fight him as he leads you up to your floor and helps you into your tiny apartment. And you don’t fight him when he helps you out of your costume, into your PJs, wipes your makeup off for you, and then tucks you into bed. Sleepily, you watch as he strips down to his briefs before he climbs in next to you, his hard body curled up next to yours.

You want to touch him, feel him, make him feel as hot as you are. But sleep takes you before you can even think about reaching over to grab his cock and stroke him through his briefs. The alcohol and the long night take over, leaving you sound asleep. Nico falls asleep soon after, his soft snores filling the tiny, dark bedroom.

But somewhere in the night that is creeping towards morning, you awaken to a sudden noise. You sit up straight out of your hot dream of you and Nico in a hot tub somewhere, hands roaming and lips caressing, reality crashing down onto you. Immediately, your eyes catch the sliver of light coming from across the room where your private bathroom is.

You hear the sound of running sink water, but also something else. It sounds like…breathing. Harsh, distressed breathing. You look to where Nico should be in your bed, but you find the space empty and warm as if he just got up. Worried, you swallow the lump in your throat to call to him. “Nico?” you tentatively call. “Honey? Is everything okay?”

He grunts in response, making your heart leap in fear. Is he hurt? “Nicolas!” you call, seriously now. “What’s going on?”

“Stay away!” a deep, rasped voice calls from the other side of the door. “Don’t come in!” He grunts again, his breathing becoming more ragged. You press a hand to your mouth, fear gripping you. That didn’t sound like Nico at all. This voice is much, much deeper. “N-Nico?” you whimper, confused and scared.

He doesn’t answer you anymore. He continues to grunt and snarl as if he’s an animal. ‘He must be sick,’ you think and quickly toss the duvet covering you away to tent to your boyfriend.

But before you can get out of bed, the bathroom door opens. Suddenly, you are faced with the silhouette of Nico, but all you can see is black. You can’t see his face nor any of his other features. He might as well be a shadow. You’re not sure anymore if you’re even awake. “Nico?” you whisper, fear crawling into your veins. “Is that you?”

“Yes,” he instantly replies, but he sounds…wrong. His voice is even raspier and deeper as if it dropped an octave in the time he was in the washroom. “Are you afraid?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, unsure of how to answer him. You press the duvet to your chest, covering yourself. “N-No,” you stammer.

Nico then steps forward and you see that his eyes are nothing but slits with gold irises in the moonlight. “You should be.”

And right before your very naked eyes, your boyfriend’s shape begins to change. He grows bigger and larger in size, growing in muscle mass. He lowers over you so much that you have to tilt your head up to look at him. As the moonlight cuts into your bedroom, creating a silver spotlight on him, he begins to grunt and snarl to himself, his face scrunched in pain.

His clothes grow smaller on his bigger body and suddenly rip off of him, tearing to shreds and fluttering to the floor. His skin disappears, replaced with fine black fur that coats his entire body. His ears elongate and point. His nose forms a dripping snout. His nails sharpen and his teeth grow bigger and longer, sharpening into fangs that gleam like knives at you. But the kicker it seems is the big, furry, wagging tail that drops between his furry thighs.

Finally finished, he falls to his knees in the light before you, heaving from whatever energy his transformation took out of him. You gape at him, all kinds of emotions swimming in you, but fear is the number one. “N-N-N—“ You can’t even get his name out.

Slowly, he looks up at you and somehow, you see your sweet boyfriend in the eyes of the wolf staring back at you. “This is me,” he growls out. “The real me.”

You continue to stare, wide-eyed and alarmed. You’re dreaming. You have to be. You pinch yourself, hissing at the sting. No…this is real. Nico stands but doesn’t come near you, too afraid to do so. “I won’t hurt you,” he signs and you almost laugh at the sight of his big, clawed paws signing for you. This is Nico!

“I’d never. But the moon makes me like this.” He motions over his new form, looking absolutely ashamed…and horny. You can see his cock bulging from his briefs that have just managed to cling to his groin despite his bigger size.

Slowly, you creep out of the bed and tentatively walk over to him. He stands firmly still, afraid of spooking you. Once you’re near him, you first gently touch his snout and then move your fingers over his soft, thick fur. He sighs at your touch, his eyes fluttering closed. Then you move farther down, getting on your knees to move his briefs out of the way.

There, you gasp at the sight. His cock has swollen at least four sizes up from his original size as a human…which is pretty thick already judging from what you’ve seen in his pants. He is thicker, longer, and flushed red. “My knot,” he raspily explains, sounding embarrassed. “I…can’t help it.”

And you can’t help the way your pussy throbs staring at it. Despite how strange it looks, it also makes you hotter than you’ve ever been in your life. Gently, you wrap a hand around it, trying to see how thick it is. Your fingers can barely fit around the base!

You begin to stroke your boyfriend up and down, getting used to his size and eventually using another hand to hold him. Nico hoarsely moans above you, staring down at you through hooded eyes. “Baby,” he hoarsely says. “W-What are you—“

You silence him by taking a kitten lick of his tip, making him groan. “Take me, Nico,” you whisper, staring up at him through your lashes. “Take my mouth. Fuck my face as much as you need.”

Then you take him into your mouth, first sucking gently on the head. Nico watches on, unable to fulfill your request…yet. He lets you take the reins, watching with clenched fists as you take him deeper with every slow second, his cock sinking between your soft lips. He can’t believe what he’s witnessing. His beautiful, hot, cute girl on her knees for him taking his werewolf cock in her mouth.

“F-Fuck, darlin’,” he groans, unable to keep his sounds of pleasure back. He trembles under your wet tongue and soft, little hands stroking up and down his length. His big, heavy balls swinging like pendulums grow heavier with cum at the sight of you.

You pop his cock out of your mouth to smile up at him. “Feels good?” you purr, your heart exploding with pride when he frantically nods. “Good. Just relax for me, Nico. I’m right here.”

You continue to take him in your mouth, gradually growing bolder and more relaxed to take him deeper. He is much thicker than normal, stretching your mouth out to the point where your jaw aches. You alternate between eagerly stroking and eagerly sucking, bobbing your head up and down as you moan, sending vibrations throughout his thick, red cock.

“Shit!” Nico hisses, watching through slits as you give him a long lick from base to tip like a lollipop. Unable to take anymore, he gently grasps the back of your head and pushes you back down. You moan in joy, letting him thrust in and out of your mouth at a slow, gentle pace, obviously afraid of hurting you.

But that doesn’t last long. Feeling your soft, hot, wet mouth wrapped around him tears Nico’s self-control to shreds. Quickly, he pulls his cock out of your mouth and scoops you up as if you weigh nothing. You squeak in surprise as he carries you to the bed, carrying you like you’re a precious jewel.

And he takes care of you like you are one. Once on the bed, he lays down first before he places you on top facing his cock. You feel his clawed hands on your ass, cascading down your panties, and then rrrrrip. “Nico!” you whine, pouting at the sound of your lace panties tearing. “Those were my favorite!”

“Sorry, baby,” he says, but you can tell he isn’t. You’re not even that mad once his hands grasp your ass and spreads your cheeks apart. You hiss at the cool air hitting your puckered asshole and sobbing cunt. “Fuck,” Nico shudderingly says, his hot breath hitting your quivering pussy lips.

And there’s his tongue. His tongue. You’ve never felt anything like it. It is so big, fat, and long. It reaches every part of your pussy outside and in when it slides between your wet folds, caressing every sensitive spot. He fills you up in a way your fingers can’t, sending sparks of pleasure throughout your body.

For this to be the first time he’s ever eaten you out, it’s fucking magical. You can’t help but toss your ass back and grind against his face which Nico happily invites. He moans and growls into your cunt, messily eating and lapping at your juices. “Oh, Nico!” you moan. “Nico, fuck yes, that’s so good! Keep going, baby! Keep—“

You’re silenced by his cock suddenly popping you in the lip as it lurches forward, standing up at attention. “Sorry,” he chuckles, but pushes his hips up towards your inviting mouth. “Go ahead.”

He doesn’t even have to tell you. You’re salivating at the chance to have him in your mouth again. You proceed to bob your head up and down as he thrusts up into your mouth, shoving his knot a bit deeper each time down your throat. Saliva drips from your mouth as Nico fucks your face, using your mouth as a toy. You love every minute of it, causing your pussy to grow wetter in his mouth.

The lewd sounds of moans and wet licking fills the air that is thick with sex. The moonlight hits your brown skin and body, illuminating both of your beautiful features as Nico stares up at you. He adores the way you throw your ass back into his face. Loves how you look riding his tongue, twerking that soft, luscious ass of yours as you do. He grips and spanks it to his heart’s delight, growing rock at the sound of your pretty moans that bounce off of the bedroom walls.

He eats you faster, becoming more determined to bring you to orgasm with his tongue strokes. He uses the flat of his tongue to lick up your slit while one of his thick fingers toys with your pretty rosebud, rolling the needy button around in semi-circles. He has wanted to know your body for so long and now that he does, he wants to know more.

You ride his face like a stolen car, chasing your own high. “Fuck, Nico, I’m gonna cum!” you whine, your voice loud and squeaky. “Y-You’re gonna…I’m gonna!” Nico gripped your ass, giving you a bite of pain as his claws nearly dig into your flesh. “Cum, baby,” he growls into your cunt. “Cum for me!”

You continue to ride him, stroking his cock with both hands as you do to give him pleasure too. Finally, you feel yourself tumble off of that hill and into a sea of bliss. Your orgasm is intense and overwhelming, drawing all kinds of high-pitched moans and gasps out of you. Nico hums “mmm-hmm” into your pussy, lapping up all that you give him like a grateful dog would for water. He even licks along your asscrack, catching the droplets that fell there.

By the time he finishes, you are absolutely drained and shuddering above him. “Oh. My. God.” You gasp out each word. That was the best orgasm you’ve ever experienced in your life!

Nico chuckles below you, pressing a kiss to your clit that makes you shudder. Looking down, you find his bobbing knot has grown a lot harder and redder, practically flushed. “You’re still hard,” you giggle, slowly stroking up and down his shaft. He moans in response, fucking your hand without abandon. The poor baby is desperate. “Guess you still need more too.”

You look back at him, seeing the need in his piercing gaze. “Do you?” he asks, a question in his golden eyes. He doesn’t elaborate, but he doesn’t have to. You know exactly what he means: do you want him to fuck you?

Is the sky blue and the grass green? You giggle, positioning yourself so you’re now turned around and facing him. You press your hands against his furry chest, your fingers burying in his fur. “Yes, honey,” you coo, nuzzling your nose with his. “I want you too. Fuck me right here, right now. I’m all yours.”

That is all Nico needs to hear. Minutes later, you are on all fours, face down in the pillow with your ass hiked in the air, receiving the deep dicking of your life. Nico mounts you from behind, one clawed hand pressing you down into the bed while the other is on your ass, spanking you here and there and making you wail.

His strokes are slow but deep and hard, stealing the breath from your body with every thrust. It sends your clit into a pleasured frenzy, leading you to frantically rub it in time with his thrusts, and your brain turns to mush. His cock fills you up in a way you’ve never been before, his balls swinging against your clit.

“Oh, my God!” you practically scream. “Oh, my God!” Your moans are broken and loud as your boyfriend fucks you like an animal, bullying your pussy into taking his cock…and then eventually his knot. “Take it,” he growls, pressing a hand on your back. “Take me, darlin’.”

Embarrassing squelching sounds mingle with the creaking of the bed springs as he ruts into you, making your pussy wetter. And it isn’t just his cock. It’s him. It’s the way his fur tickles your skin. It’s the way he smells. It’s the way he sounds. Your pussy belongs to him, your velvety walls squeezing around him with every slow, deep thrust.

“I-I am!” you whimper out. “I will, Daddy, I promise!” You gasp as you feel him slide in deeper as he hooks an arm around you, drawing you closer to him. A loud, desperate whine escapes you at the feeling of him pistoling into you, making your tits and ass jiggle with every thrust.

“Good girl,” he whispers, his tongue caressing your earlobe and neck. “My good fuckin’ girl.” His teeth nibble on the tender skin of your neck, leaving little love marks of him. Something to let anyone know that you are his. The idea of being his, of being owned by him….fuck, you’re about to cum. You can feel it building again.

“Oh, Nico, I’m gonna cum again!” you sob to the heavens. “You’re gonna make me cum! O-Oh, f-f-fuck!”

Nico doesn’t stop even as you orgasm, your body bucking and writhing in his arms and underneath his big, furry body. He toys with your neck with his tongue and teeth, stimulating each sensitive part of you which only makes your orgasm that much more intense. He groans into your sweet, coconut-scented hair as your walls clench around him, pushing him to cum too.

But not yet.

When your orgasm finally fades, you snuggle back into his furry chest that pillows the back of your head. “Nico, I…” Your mind, sluggish from the two intense orgasms, can’t process the words quick enough.

Even if it could, Nico doesn’t give you a chance. He is suddenly turning you around, scooping you up, and taking you over to the window where the moonlight is bright and beautiful. He hooks his big paws underneath your thighs, keeping his cock inside of you as he pushes you against the wall, your thighs pinned open for him.

You weakly moan as you feel his fingers toy with your clit, your eyes fluttering at the intense pleasure. Your pussy shudders and throbs from the stimulation despite just orgasmic. You don’t know if you can take anymore of it. “Look at me,” Nico softly growls.

You open your eyes, staring into his. All you see is yourself reflecting back like two golden mirrors. “Beautiful,” he sighs. “So beautiful.” He thrusts deeper and suddenly, his knot is pushing inside of you. You let out a broken moan as he groans, nuzzling his face into your shoulder.

“N-Nico,” you whimper, gripping his back. Your nails dig into his skin littered in fur, no doubt leaving your own marks. But he embraces it, enjoying the bite of pain as your soft, velvet pussy squeezes around his knot. He begins to fuck you pinned against the wall, rutting as deep as he can go. Your breath comes out in short puffs as you take his knot, your mind briefly thinking about if he is to get stuck.

Would you even mind that?

Your boyfriend begins to thrust harder, faster, fucking you up and up and up against the wall in the moonlight. Your body is forced to near another orgasm, your pussy gripping around him tighter than a vice. “Nico,” you whine. “N-Nicolas, it’s too much! I-I can’t take much more!”

Nico pulls away to stare at you, his canine eyes filled with unshed tears. His teeth are bared and his jaw is tight. He, too, is holding back. You cup his face in your hands, your fingers caressing through his thick, coarse fur. “I need you to cum,” you beg. “Please fuck me and cum deep in my pussy. Fill me up. Make me yours.”

You’ve never wanted anything more than you want his cum…well, maybe sex with him. And now you’re getting it. You couldn’t be more blessed to get dicked down the way you are now. Little Red Riding Hood with her big, bad, sexy wolf.

Nico’s eyes flash with a fire that is almost animalistic. Untamed. It thrills you yet frightens you. This isn’t your Nico anymore. This is a beast. A monster who needs his fill. And you’re more than happy to give it to him.

He grips you to him as if you’ll vanish if he doesn’t and proceeds to fuck your brains out. “Gonna fill you,” he groans. “Gonna fill my baby up.” You frantically nod, locking your limbs around him to trap him against you. “Yes!” you moan. “Do it! Cum with me, Nico, baby, please!”

You can feel his knot swelling up inside of you, begging to be released from its torture. “I love you,” he growls into your ear. “Love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you too!” you sob, the throws of your third orgasm taking over. “C-Cumming! Nic, I’m cumming!”

And finally, you do. Like a spray of champagne shooting out of a corked bottle, you explode all around Nico’s knot. The feeling is so intense that your fingers and toes cramp. You toss your head back and moan to the skies, letting the Gods above know of the ecstasy you feel. Nico frantically pistons into you, chasing his own orgasm until he finally cums with a low grunt that gradually grows louder.

He begins to roar, the sound muffled by your breast as he nuzzles his face into your chest. You gasp at the steady warm stream of cum that enters you, filling you to the brim. There is so much that it drips down your thighs, sticky and wet. You are now officially, unmistakably his.

Once your highs fade, Nico’s body relaxes against yours and his roars of pleasure die down to soft growls and grunts. Exhaustion soon takes over and he crashes to the floor with you still in his arms. Gently, after giving you a nimble squeeze of your tit, he gently pulls out of you and rolls onto his back beside you. You moan at the loss of his cock, your pussy feeling sore yet tingly.

Together, you lie on your bedroom floor side by side, panting, sweating, and absolutely drained. You’ve never felt this way before. You feel like you just ran a marathon! But the ache you feel is so delicious that you almost want to go again. “Oh, Nico,” you sigh, tired yet satisfied.

You turn to stare at your beast of a boyfriend only to find that your beast is now a human hunk again. “Oh, you’re back!” you joyfully exclaim. He wordlessly stares at you, his tan skin and toned body slick with sweat. His cock, no longer knotted, is soft and flaccid from his intense orgasm between his thick, muscular thighs. It’s still thick but much smaller compared to his werewolf size and a beautiful shade of tan.

Unable to keep yourself off of him, you snuggle up next to him, laying a hand on his toned stomach. “You feelin’ okay now?” You softly ask.

“Mmm,” he hums, looking absolutely energized now. He has a glint in his eye and he is almost glowing from the inside out. He tilts his chin down to kiss you, his lips soft and supple. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

You smile, giving him another chaste kiss. “It was my pleasure…seriously.” You both laugh at his, the tension in the air thick with sexual chemistry. Only the two of you will know of this night…and maybe the neighbors too. You yawn, feeling exhaustion grip you again. “Now, let’s—“

“Uh-uh,” he interrupts, a crooked smile on his face. He points down at his now-human cock that is now semi-hard.

“Again?!” you gasp, ogling at him. “What, are one of the symptoms of a full moon being increasingly horny too?!”

Nico smiles at you, playfulness in his eyes. “Don’t answer that,” you sigh, already hooking a leg around his waist. You press your tits up against his hard chest, feeling his dog tags against your heated skin. “Just fuck me again.”

And your boyfriend does just that. Again and again again, making you cum your brains out in every position you can think of. That night, you get exactly what you’ve been wanting for months now.

You don’t get much sleep until dawn, but you don’t complain. Not a bit.

THE END.

[starless-nightz]

I would burn the world for you, mother

note -> I absolutely love Nico he is literally my baby boy so here are some HCs for him.

pairing -> Platonic! Nico X mother figure! reader

warnings -> none

contet includes -> platonic! Nico, talk about death, Reader taking care of Nico, just cute mother son moments.

Nico doesn't remember his mother, he doesn't remember what a mothers love feels like, the closest to a mothers love he felt was from his sister, who is long gone now

Nico was scared to get close to you at first, but eventually he gave in, and over time he started viewing you as a mother, you werw his home

Whenever he had any problems he would immediately go to you, you are the person he trusts the most in the world

Nico would do anything for you, you are someone he wants to protect with his life, if it was the world or you he would always chose you

Sometimes he would bring you to the underworld with him, but he rarely does that since he thinks its too dangerous for you down there

Nico loves McDonald's, so he gets happy whenever you buy him some, it makes him feel like a little kid again

He would introduce you to Bianca after a while, and Bianca at first didn't trust you but she quickly warmed up to you after she saw the way you treated her brother

Nico likes taking in ghost cats, hes practically making a army of ghost cats but you dont mind it since they are all cute like him

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Request for Nico di Angelo!

Hello! If it's okay, may I request Nico with a (GN or male) reader whos got like, super serious mommy issues? Like, they'll be in a bad mood during the last day of summer solely because of the fact that they have to see their mom once they get home. And it's not even bc they're a misbehaving kid, it's just because their mom absolutely sucks. Maybe where their mom has a bunch of pointless rules, too. Like, nothing to do with cats, praying every morning, going to church every Sunday and church school every Monday, etc. And readers just done with life during the year. They'll purposely go on quests the last week if they get the chance just so they don't have to go home, too. Lmao, just realized this is sorta venting in a way, so sorry. It's alr if you cant do my req. Take care and have a nice day/night!

this is a short one but I really like it, so... and by the way, if anyone ever wants to just vent in my inbox please feel free too, there's no judgement on this blog and you're so strong <3 <3 <3

You don't have to be sorry for doing it on your own---Nico x reader with a shitty mum [fluff, dw] »»————-　★　————-««

-Nico would be that person who’d offer to kill anyone you hated

-But he would be completely serious

-Like, no fucking around. He knows how much you despise your mum. But it’s so very hard to hate parents because they're still your parents. Godly parents are a whole different story, but the mortal ones are hard to loathe without feeling shit about it inside, so it becomes this sort of silent resentment. 

-Nico knows that. Sort of… well, from knowing you, really. And he may have planned out your mortal mother's death in a very excruciating way, with a few backup plans just in case.

-You shut that down when he mentioned it subtly, so he went back to rubbing your back and bringing your favorite snacks from the stash Cecil had secretly [everyone knew] imported from the mortal shops, then hissing at people like a rabid cat when they asked where you were. 

-He’s very good at scaring campers off.

-You’d be eating shitty junk food and sweet red strawberries in your cabin and listening to Harry Styles’ song Matilda [Hazel had bought you his record for your birthday last year] pretending your head wasn’t spinning with thoughts about how much you wanted to run away from home, and then the shadow’s by your bed would thicken and your boyfriend would just launch himself onto you.

-You’d gotten pretty used to it, obviously, and now you were pretty much immune to jumpscares. 

-It was a handy skill to have considering how many horror movies you and Nico would watch together. He liked to critique how realistic the deaths actually were, and you liked to watch his nerdy face and tease him for jumping when Ghostface crept out from behind a doorway. 

-But sometimes, mainly the days before you had to return to your mother and the house filled with crosses and rules and arguments and not enough pet cats for your liking, not even movie marathons and picnics in the strawberry fields could help your mood.

-So, Nico would resort to his back up backup plan [not the murder one, the happy boyfriend one], which was cuddle piles. 

-It had taken him quite a while to get used to touch, but between Jason’s ‘how to ask out that random dude you're obsessed with’ classes [you were the random dude] and the fact you liked to hold his hands, he would say that he was quite the expert on hugs now. So he’d wear the biggest jumper he could find, probably one of Hazel’s flowery ones, and drag you into bed. 

-Thankfully his bed was no longer a coffin [they had been turned into bookshelves] and was big enough for you both to squish in. So he’d stroke your hair and nod understandingly when you scoffed about how stupid it was to send a literal child of a Greek God to a church. 

-It wasn’t even a nice church, apparently. It smelt like socks. 

-He had a very good speech for these complaints, which you both knew the words to by now.

One day, very soon, you’re gonna get a job, or a smart person class at college, and you’ll never have to go to Sunday school again. We’re gonna get our own house too. With lots of tea and toast. And rescue cats. And we can name them after your favorite famous people and book characters and we’ll have a huge squishy couch too we can watch horror movies on. 

There’ll be lots of posters on the walls and no one will tease you about being a little kid and you can wear whatever clothes you want. Maybe not orange ones though. I think we’re all sick of oranges. 

And all of our friends can visit whenever they want to, and we’ll have all of their snacks as well. And toothbrushes.  

And we can have Christmas there, without all of the bad stuff. We can decorate the tree really badly. You don’t have to invite your mum. At all. And if she shows up, her coffin will be shaped like a fish. They’re a real thing, you know, fish-shaped coffins. 

You’ll never have to see her again. We’ll have our own place. I promise.

You can throw a party full of everyone you know, and not invite your family, 'cause they never showed you love. You don't have to be sorry for leaving and growing up.

I promise. 

»»————-　★　————-««