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libraryofloveletters · 2 years ago

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Find Your Way Home

Daniel Ricciardo x Engineer!Fem!Reader

Warnings: the curse that is mclaren racing, < mclaren/zak slander, the highs and lows of Danny's career, monaco 2016, horner warning lmao, a few bitter words, angst, unspoken feelings, sadness, 2022 silly season and a few swear words.

Word Count: 4.6k

Author's Note: after plotting this, i realized that The Red String Of Me And You follows a similar timeline but this one is more detailed and sooo much sexier of me so enjoy it :)

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RedBull Racing - 2014; Montreal, Canada.

Under-qualified crossed your mind every time you got into your chair on the pit wall.

You had recently graduated and you were lucky enough to snag a job with Red Bull Racing. You were told it would be a job at the factory, that you would be handling the reviews from the races from an engineering point of view.

Now you were sitting on the pit wall in Montreal, your driver in your ear. "Are we set?" His voice came through.

Your eyes scanned over the screens, pressing the button. "We're all set, Daniel."

Daniel was gunning for his first race win and you've been hoping and praying every weekend that he'd win. It was your first time as a race engineer and you were starting to think you two hadn't fully clicked yet, hence why you've yet to get a win.

He starts in P6 and his teammate Sebastian, was in P3 this weekend. There's a lot of pressure when your teammate is a 4 time world champion and you're sure Daniel felt it, especially on weekends like this.

You sat patiently, buzzing into him once more before they started the countdown. "Be safe."

"Safe is my middle name, y/n."

"Whatever you say, Joseph." The use of his actual middle name earned you a laugh. The radio falls silent; three, two, one, lights out.

It's a gruesome 70 laps, there's overtaking left and right, Daniel fights his way up to P3 and you're praying he can do what he does best. You watch as the laps count down towards the final one.

67, 68, 69, and into the final corner. The navy car crossed the line and it takes you a second to catch yourself. Christian squeezes your arm from next to you, a massive grin on his face when you register what just happened.

"YOU DID IT!!" You shouted into the radio, Daniel's laughter and hollering filled your ears and your heart with love and happiness, "we did it!" he shouts, correcting you.

Everyone's running, you're following the mechanics to under the podium, all of you squished up against the fence like sardines as the navy team awaited their two drivers.

Daniel had won, followed by Nico in P2 for Mercedes and Sebastian in P3 for RedBull.

Seb runs over to his half of the garage, there's a sea of navy and everyone is mixed up together but when Daniel gets out of his car, he's looking for one person and one person only. He spots you, a big smile on your face and even though he knows you'd never admit it, there are tears in your eyes.

The driver jumps straight into your arms, putting all of his weight on you and the fence. A few of the mechanics squeeze into the hug, holding Daniel so he doesn't crush you.

Your hands cup his face, well what would be his face under the helmet. His visor is lifted, brown eyes meet yours; the crinkles by his eyes signalling to the massive smile under the helmet.

"We fucking did it!" His shout comes out muffled.

You smile, nodding. Daniel is standing again, still holding onto you. He leans into you, arms wrapped around you with his face buried in your shoulder. You kiss the side of his helmet, hand reaching down to rub the top of his back. You internally gag at the dampness that meets your hand but that was the least of your concerns.

Daniel just won his first race.

Proud was an understatement.

RedBull Racing - 2016; Monte Carlo, Monaco.

He could taste the victory.

The win was reaching out to him, the finish line on the tips of his fingers and he could feel it slipping away from him.

"Pit now," you called to him, Daniel was confused by your sudden decision. "Tyres are good, y/n."

"Team decision, please pull into the pit lane."

Daniel groans letting you know he'll be there in a few seconds.

You saw when he pulled into the pits, watching as the mechanics scrabbled to get the tyres ready in time. They had Daniel sitting there, his position falling with each wasted second.

"What the fuck!" His radio was still on, you weren't even sure what you could tell him in that moment to make him feel better. He pulls out with a sense of speed you'd never seen before. He finds himself racing to beat Lewis coming out of the pit lane but the Mercedes turns into the corner before he gets the chance too, overtaking him.

"Why did we pit?" He asks you, you pretend not to hear him as you look over at Christian. The older man gives you a look, urging you to answer the driver.

Daniel calls your name once again, his voice making you want to cry; all of the horrible emotions mixed in with the guilt of the horrible pit stop made you sick.

You finally answer; "team decision."

He scoffs, it's like you can feel the tension over the radio, see the way his hands tighten around the steering wheel as he goes into the tunnel. "Bullshit, y/n."

"I'm sorry Dan-" "Stop, nothing you could say will make this better."

And with that, the radio fell silent. The nauseous feeling builds with each passing second, your leg shaking and your eyes staying fixed to the screen until Daniel crosses the finish line in P2.

It was better than nothing but you knew he could have won the race, you knew he would blame the team, blame the crew, blame you for this loss.

Christian squeezes your shoulder as he gets up, a smile on his face - his quiet way of telling you good job. He knows how difficult drivers can be, especially when things like this happen. The race engineers are the first to take the blame, you called him into the pit so you'd take the brunt of the anger.

You nod, hearing Daniel's voice over the radio, "place?"

"P2. Well done, Daniel."

"Okay."

Daniel stood next to Lewis, Checo on the other side of the Mercedes driver. It was quiet as you watched Daniel shake the champagne bottle, spraying over his fellow drivers. He had a smile on his face but you knew he wasn't happy. You knew him like the back of your hand and once again, the nauseous feeling creeped up the back of your throat, the feeling strangling the life out of you with each passing second. You had to go, you couldn't stand there and watch him like that, knowing you were the one he was blaming.

And that he did; not in so many words but the bitterness in his voice and way he spoke was enough to tell you he did not want to be there.

The interview replayed in the debrief that afternoon, the press officers wanting to go over something he had said.

"It hurts, this one hurts a lot. More than any other."

His words hurt you.

You couldn't even bring yourself to look at him, let alone be in the same room as him. There was a sense of despair, you couldn't shake it.

It wasn't until you were about to leave that you found yourself turning back, walking in the direction of his driver's room. You stopped outside the door; D. Ricciardo, 3 - with an Australian flag beside it. As you were about to knock, Michael opens the door, a bit shocked to see you.

"Is he in there?" You asked quietly and he nodded, stepping aside to let you in. Michael shuts the door on his way out, leaving the two of you alone.

Daniel's yet to turn around or yet to realize you were there. "I'm sorry," you speak, your quiet voice startling him. "I'm not sure what went wrong."

"Everything did."

"It wasn't my decision."

"You're my engineer; when I'm out there, it's me and you. It was your decision, y/n. Only yours."

"I'm sorry, Daniel. I really am."

"Nothing you can say will fix it, and I know you're sorry but right now, I don't want your sorry."

You nod, taking a step back. "Then what can I say? Or do?"

"You can leave," his arms fold over his chest. "Because if you stay, I might say some things I can't take back. I know we aren't cool right now but I don't want to hurt you, y/n."

"You already have," you give him a tight lipped smile, the sadness clear across your face. "Goodnight Daniel."

RedBull Racing - 2018; Monte Carlo, Monaco.

It was off to a good start, Daniel had managed to give it his all and snag pole position on Saturday. He was in a good mood, there's a smile on his face and the sun was shining down on Monaco which was a nice change from the rain that was setting up in the morning.

The cars on the grid, the drivers counting down the seconds to lights out. You buzz into him, waiting to hear the little click. Daniel's breathing comes through from his side.

“50% done, remember?” You tell him.

“50% done.” He says, the radio goes quiet as he waits for lights out.

Daniel drove amazingly, despite the issues the car was giving him. He finds himself aggravated half way through the race, the car giving out on him and losing power; thus losing hope in himself. The win was slipping through his fingers all over again with each passing corner and turn.

The weight was lifted off his shoulders when you watched him cross the finish line as the winner.

"P1 baby!!!!" You shout into the radio, Daniel's hollering fills the line and a big smile on both of your faces. "We fucking did it!!" He laughed, driving his cool down lap.

You were by the fence, watching as he climbed onto the halo of his car. Daniel's hand in a fist, placed on his chest as the team cheered. You're sure you've got the goofiest grin on your face, squished between Christian and Adrian.

Much like he did after his first race win, he makes a beeline straight for you, his arms open as he jumps into yours. Once again, you find yourself struggling to hold the man up but you try your best, arms wrapped around him.

Daniel's squished against you, your hands on his helmet, holding where his jaw would be. "Got that other 50%."

"Redemption day baby!" He shouts, giving you one last squeeze.

The rest of the afternoon was like heaven on earth; the smell of champagne, RedBull and chlorine covered everyone, you all watched as Daniel dived into the pool of the energy station.

"Come on!" He shouts to you but you shake your head, "I'm not getting in there."

Daniel pulls himself out of the pool, running over to you. "Dan, no." Your finger stuck out to warn him, the man comes closer. "Stop it," you get up, about to run away. He grabs you before you get the chance to run away, his arms wrapped tightly around you before he jumps into the pool.

"Daniel!" You scream when you get back up to the surface, "oh my god!" You laughed, your hand passed over your face to wipe away the water. He laughs, swimming - more like blobbing his way over to you, his race suit was weighing him down.

He grabs your arm, pulling you to him. The team photographer takes a photo of the two of you; arms wrapped around each other, covered in disgusting pool water with the world's biggest million watt smiles on your face.

You smile at the man next to you, "I'm so proud of you."

"I'm proud of you," he smiles, hugging you once more. "I couldn't have done it without you."

RedBull Racing - 2018; Abu Dhabi.

The announcement over the summer break threw everyone for a loop.

Breaking News: Daniel Ricciardo set to join Renault Racing for the 2019 season.

You weren't sure how to handle it or what prompted it.

Well that's not entirely true; after Monaco, things went downhill fast. There was bad result after bad result and it was weighing heavily on him.

When he returned from the summer break, you didn't say anything to him about the departure from the team. You knew he must have thought about it, you don't just up and leave a team just like that. It was a hard decision for him to make.

The last thing you wanted to do was make him feel worse.

It was his last day, the race was over and Daniel had made his rounds to say goodbye to everyone. You had been busy when he made his way around the garage and hospitality but you felt like a general goodbye wasn't enough for the man who you have spent almost every day with for the last 4 years of your life.

You knocked on the door of his driver's room, Michael smiles when he opens the door. "Come in, y/n."

Daniel turns when he hears your name. "I uh, I forgot something in the garage, I'll be back." Micheal says, announcing that he's leaving so you'd get a moment of privacy.

The two of you were quiet, looking at each other for a moment before you spoke.

You break the silence. “So this is it?”

“Yeah.” He nods, shifting from one foot to the other. You hum, lips pressed together as you look around. You'd never seen the room so empty. “Do you really have to go ?”

Daniel smiles, “afraid so, bags are packed.”

“You could always unpack.”

He smiled, his heart aching at the sight of you. You reached out, your hand placed on his warm cheek. “But you’ll come back, right?”

A sad smile on his face, bringing his own hand up to rest on yours. “In another life, maybe.”

“You promise?” You stuck your pinky out towards him.

He nods, interlocking his pinky with yours like you were children. “I promise.”

Renault Racing - 2020; Imola, Italy.

The rain poured down, the night sky as dark as it could possibly get as you pulled your hood over your head; the race hadn't gone as well as you'd like but you were no longer needed for the night, on your way back to your hotel for some sleep and then home before you head off to Turkey.

You could barely see where you were going let alone hear anything over the rain. The sudden shelter over you caused you to look up; an umbrella, a black and yellow one to be precise.

The man next to you smiles when you turn to see who was next to you. "Hello stranger," he grinned, the big smile on his face.

"Hello Daniel," you smiled.

The two of you hadn't spoken much since he left RedBull, it was a hi and a hello here and there in passing but you've yet to have a proper conversation. Frankly, you aren't sure what to say without it being awkward.

"Need a ride?" He asks, his arm over your shoulder to pull you away from the rain. "If it's not too much trouble." You pull the hood off of your head, flattening a few fly aways.

Daniel leads you towards the parking lot, holding the umbrella over your head until you get into the car. The man backed out of the parking spot, the sound of the rain on the windshield filled the silence, you translated the road signs in your head as he passed them by.

"You looked good up there today," you say quietly, Daniel glanced at you when he came to a stop. "You were always suited for the podium."

"Top step though," he smiles and you nod in agreement. "I'm sorry.. about the race. Sucks for Max and Alex."

You shrugged; A DNF for Max and P15 for Alex, so all in all, a shit weekend. "That's racing, what can you do?"

"The good and the bad." He pulls off when the light turns green. "You know how it is," you smiled, picking at the chipped nail polish on your index finger.

"Daniel, can I ask you something?"

"Oh full name, you've got me shakin' in my boots, y/n; but yes you can."

You shift in the leather seat, smooth and expensive and suddenly you're aware of how wet your hoodie is. The question you wanted to ask slips away momentarily as you think of how much this must be damaging the seat.

"Y/n," he calls out to you, glancing over to make sure you were alright after you had gone quiet. "What did you want to ask me?"

"Why are you running, Daniel ?"

The question catches him off guard, the car comes to a stop as he pulls into the parking lot of your hotel. His jaw hung open a bit as if he was unsure how to answer you; which he was. You watched as he blinked, trying to gather the thoughts in his head into a cohesive sentence.

"I'm not."

You can't help but chuckle; those who are running never seem to realize that they are, in fact, running.

"You are. You have a habit of doing that, Daniel."

You reach over, your hand rests atop of his; Daniel's skin is warm in comparison to yours that's still ice cold from the rain. His free hand moves, his index finger tracing up and down your hands, from your knuckles down to your wrist; another habit of his. He would distract himself during boring debriefs, his fingers pinching at yours under the table.

He's quiet, still unsure how to answer the statement that he knows in his heart was true. His fingers wandering over your hand, the raised skin by your thumb felt out a pattern identical to his; a rose in the same spot only slightly smaller in size.

Daniel had talked you into it. Another habit of his, getting you to do things you'd never do otherwise.

You were scared, you thought it would hurt but somehow he managed to talk you into it. There you were in his hotel room, Daniel's hand in your free one as you two got matching tattoos.

It felt like a million years ago - so much has changed since then.

You speak again, breaking the silence. "I hope you find what you're looking for at McLaren. You deserve some peace, Dan. You and I both know it."

McLaren Racing - 2021; Monza, Italy.

Back where he belongs.

A hell of a drive, something only Daniel could have pulled off after the horrendous start that was McLaren. You knew it was the car, not him; if anyone asked you, the car was always at fault. Daniel was one of the most talented drivers you had ever come across and had the pleasure of working with. You'd tell anyone who asked, anyone who'd listen to you.

It was a lacklustre weekend for the team; Checo was in P5 and Max had a DNF after an accident with Lewis, which caused both drivers to lose out on points that were needed for the championship.

Despite RedBull not having a driver on the podium, you and a few of the mechanics that used to work on Daniel's side of the garage went to watch the podium to cheer him on.

You watched as he and Lando did a shoey, your face twisting into disgust much like the younger McLaren driver. Valtteri watched in a bit of confusion and disgust, shaking his head as he took a swing of champagne from the bottle like a normal person.

The champagne bottle in one hand and the other on the railing as he climbed up. Daniel shouts, a big grin on his face as he lifts the bottle above his head. Everyone cheers for him, clapping and shouting for the winner. You were needed back in the garage for a meeting so you couldn't stick around long but you made sure to text Daniel.

To Daniel Ricciardo: Congrats winner! Back on the top step.

You got caught up in the meetings, back to back that felt never ending. Eventually you have a chance to check your phone but when you feel your pocket, it's not there.

You must have put it down somewhere. You find yourself retracing your steps, asking each person you saw as you passed by.

"Y/n!" GP calls for you, getting your attention. "Looking for this?" He holds up a phone with a navy blue case, your initials inscribed in gold on the bottom.

You let out a breath, "how'd you know?"

He hands the phone over to you, shrugging. "You know I always know." You roll your eyes at your co-worker's theatrics and thank him for your phone before walking off. You see you've missed a few messages so you scroll through. One in particular catches your eye.

From Daniel Ricciardo: Thanks boss lady! Congrats to you too, you helped make me the man I am today.

The message pulled on your heart strings; it was true. You and Daniel were so young when you got paired up together. You learnt a lot about life and yourselves, how to be a good person and what you wanted from life, and most importantly, how to get it.

You grew up together and Daniel would always hold a special place in your heart.

McLaren Racing - 2022; Spa-Francorchamps, Belgium.

You couldn't believe it.

After everything he's done for the team, he'd hurt him like that. What could you expect from a team when their CEO was a walking snake?

It was a chain reaction.

Sebastian had thrown everyone for a loop in Hungary, announcing that he would be retiring at the end of the 2022 season. That left Aston looking for a replacement that came from Fernando. There was an opening at Alpine now which they just assumed they'd fill with their reserve driver, Oscar.

Safe to say Oscar wasn't a fan of that plan, actually he wasn't even aware of that plan.

While all of this was going on, Daniel had publicly committed to McLaren for the next season and McLaren was giving away his seat to different drivers behind his back, including none other than Alpine's reserve driver, Oscar.

Eventually it did come out that Daniel would be leaving McLaren at the end of the 2022 season to no fault of his own.

Returning from the summer break, everyone is left to face the music; particularly Daniel.

His music shuts off when he pulls the key from the ignition. You had forgotten your pass in the car, walking all the way back to the parking lot to get it.

"Morning, y/n!" Daniel grins, stepping out of the car.

You smiled at him, knowing you can't show the anger you were feeling to that wretched team he has to work with for the rest of the season. "Morning, Danny. How are you?"

He laughs.

The question feels so stupid, he feels so stupid. Obviously there's the obvious, he's angry, upset, sad, mad; at who was the question. There's so many thoughts in his head, he isn't sure how to answer your question.

"Daniel, c'mon. Seriously. "

"I'll be okay, y/n. Life works in weird ways."

A huff slips past your lips, arms folded across your chest much like a disapproving mother. "Life working in weird ways is finding something you thought you lost years ago, not you getting sold out of your seat without your knowledge."

He gives you a sad smile, nodding in agreement. "I know."

You can't help but reach out, a hand on his shoulder. "You'll be okay."

"I always am, aren't I?"

Red Bull Racing - 2022; Abu Dhabi.

Headphones covered your ears, legs folded under you as you went over the last set of race footage.

You hadn't heard the door open, your eyes glued to the screen only looking away to scribbling something down on the page next to your laptop.

You barely get a second to look back before someone's hands over your eyes, startling you. Instinctively, you brought your own hands up, grabbing the person. The raised skin along the wrist and the arms was enough to signal who it was but the smell of his cologne filled the room. You let go of his arms, pulling the headphones off your ears.

Daniel smiles, his hands on your shoulders before you stand up and turn to face him. “Miss me, miss me, now you gotta-“

“Gotta what, Dan?”

“Kiss me,” he says, his signature cheeky grin on his face. You can’t help but smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You smooth the wrinkles on his navy blue shirt, admiring him in the colours that meant home to him, to you.

Your hands held his face, “you came back.”

“Pinky promises are sacred.”

“That they are.”

Scuderia AlphaTauri - 2023; Spa-Francorchamps, Belgium.

He's back on the grid, his focus was on racing.

Daniel's excited to be back, it felt good to be back. Racing wasn't a burden anymore. Yuki was happy to have him, his new teammate welcoming him with a smile and a hug as did the rest of the Alpha Tauri team before he made his way to his driver's room.

The door was unlocked, left ajar slightly. Daniel just assumed the team was doing a last check, making sure things were in order.

He wasn't expecting a person to be in there. He found a woman, her back turned to him as she scribbled down something on the board.

He knows that handwriting from anywhere. The words let's fucking go written in all caps in bright blue.

"Hello," he calls, you turn with the marker still in hand. "Hello," you smiled.

Daniel can't help but laugh, "what are you doing here? Come to welcome me back ?"

"Something like that."

At that moment, Daniel noticed you weren't wearing your usual navy blue uniform. Today was different; a different logo, a different cut.

"What are you wearing? Why are you wearing that?" He points to the Alpha Tauri logo on your shirt.

Your brows furrow, a bit confused by his reaction. You thought he'd be happy to see you. "Do you not need a race engineer or.. you're just gonna wing it? Maybe you could borrow Michael to do it?"

"Don't be a smart ass," he rolled his eyes, dropping his bags as he walked over to you. "Thank you," he whispers, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

You pat his back, trying to wiggle away from him. "No need to thank me, we have a lot of work to do."

"I've barely been here for 5 minutes and you're already hassling me."

"Someone's gotta do it," you smiled, leaving him there to settle in.

It wasn't until it was time for practice that you saw the man again, you're across from him on the pit wall, looking over the stats before you hear the radio buzz.

“We all set?” He asks.

You look over the screens. “All set. Be safe.”

“Safe is my middle name, Y/n.” The words remind you of the path you walked along many many years ago.

You smiled, waving to him as he pulled out of the garage. “Whatever you say, Joseph.”

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1K notes · View notes

hischiershoe · 1 year ago

Text

𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 | 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐫

word count: 1.5k

summary: You knew you loved him from the moment he said your name.

warnings: none really, just fluff! does kissing need a warning??

note: this is inspired by your bones by chelsea cutler and some of the dialogue in the end was heavily inspired by the lyrics.

It started out as an ordinary October day. You woke up and had a relatively easy day at work. You went home to get ready for dinner with some friends, carpooling with some of the others to save everyone a little bit of time and money. Dinner flew by with only minimal playful arguments, and those of who were there made the decision to meet up with another group at a bar in the city. You thought it was going to be the usual group of people you typically saw, but then you saw him.

When you walked to the back booth that often occupied the same group of people, you saw a few unfamiliar faces swimming in the sea of ones you recognized. You went around and greeted those who you knew, and introduced yourself to those who didn’t. Names were being thrown at you so quickly you could barely keep up, but when he spoke, you forgot all about them anyways.

Gentle brown eyes were staring into your own, a small smile that left dimples indenting his cheeks on his face as he kept his gaze on you. He was the only one who made a point to stand and greet you, sticking his hand out for your own as he kept his other nervously shoved into his pocket. You took his hand as you forced your name out, your cheeks and neck flushing as embarrassment flooded your body at how strained it sounded.

You could hear the playful giggles of your friends from beside you, but you let them fade into the background as he repeated your name back to you. The way the letters fell from his tongue left a permanent impression in your mind, and you knew you were screwed from then on. The moment his hand dropped yours, his voice still ringing in your ear, you knew your life had changed, but you had no idea just how it would change you.

That night, you left the bar with Nico’s phone number and plans to see each other that following Monday for dinner. You hadn’t been so nervous to go out with someone before, and you had recruited two of your closest friends to help you get ready and to ease some of the anxiety that had been bubbling in your chest since that Friday night. They helped you pick out the perfect outfit, helped calm you down when you wanted to spiral, and reminded you to have fun and enjoy yourself before they left.

When Nico arrived, you had the biggest smile on your face when he presented the beautiful bouquet of flowers he’d gotten for you, with the advice of your mutual friend who had told him what your favorite was. You had bashfully thanked Nico, asking him it was okay if you put them in a vase before you left. He caught you off guard by saying of course it was, but only if you let him do it for you. You watched as he assembled them for you with a racing heart, and you knew. You knew he was everything you had been waiting for.

��Ready,” Nico softly asked after placing the vase in the center of your dining room table, smile wide and eyes bright.

“You have no idea,” You grinned.

One date turned into multiple, and before you knew it, the two of you were officially together. He did everything for you, and you for him, and you were the happiest you’d ever been before. You had never felt so content, so excited for the future with someone than you when you were with Nico. He made the uncertainty of life seem exciting and worth experiencing, and you gave him a sense of purpose outside of hockey. You gave Nico something to look forward to every time he stepped off the ice, and he’d been waiting for that feeling for so long.

Your friends often told you that you were now unrecognizable, but it wasn’t because you had changed anything about your appearance. It was because you were so undeniably happy and it wasn’t often that they saw you without a smile on your face. They had never seen you so carefree and excited about life before, and no one wanted you to ever go back. They had always told you that you deserved a love that consumes you in all the best ways, and you had found that with Nico.

Your first Summer with Nico, he had invited you to Switzerland to see his home and to meet his family. You accepted the offer with no hesitation, and that’s how you found yourself currently curled up in his lap as the sun beat down on your skin and laughter echoed around you. His arm was wrapped around your waist, fingers rubbing against the damp skin as he talked with his siblings.

Your head was tucked into the crook of his neck, your hand resting comfortably on the toned muscles of his stomach as you subtly gazed up at him. The sun hit his eyes just perfectly, making them shine brighter and showcase the mixture of dark colors in the most breathtaking way. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him, the same warm feeling you always got when you even thought of him spreading from your chest. Though, you weren’t sure it had left since his deep, accented voice had said your name in the bar many months ago.

“You gonna stare at me all day,” He teases, his hand flexing on the skin of your hip as he looks down at you.

“Yeah, if you’ll let me,” You hummed, playfully poking your tongue out at him.

“I’d let you do anything, you know that,” He rolls his eyes, before settling back on your face, “Are you having fun?”

Both of you pause for a fleeting moment, keeping your eyes trained on the other. Your mind briefly drifts to thoughts of the last several months you’d spent with him. You truly had never felt the way you felt for him before, and the fact that Nico felt the same way for you baffled you every day you spent with him. If you asked him, though, he’d tell anyone who would listen how insanely lucky he was to experience the love you had to give.

“I am,” You nod, a delicate smile on your sunburnt face, “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Wherever I am, you are always welcome. No matter what, meine schatzi,” He quietly says as he places a small kiss to your temple, ignoring the way his brother and sister are watching him with bright smiles. He squeezes the flesh of your hip before he continues, “C’mon. I want to show you something.”

“What,” You ask, pushing yourself away from him as you furrow your brows.

“You’ll see.”

You carefully step off of his lap, meeting Nina’s gaze as she smiles, which you return with one of your own. Nico stands, nodding to your sandals as he helps you into the light dress you wore as a coverup. He slips his shirt on over his head, stepping into his shoes before taking your hand in his own and tugging you down the dock, away from his siblings. You let him guide you away from the crowd of people and to a more secluded corner of the beach until it was just the two of you.

“Why are we hiding from everyone,” You raise your eyebrows, turning your head to look at him.

He tugs you into his chest, dropping your hand so he can pull you in closer as he says, “Just wanted to kiss you in private.”

You loop your arms around his neck as you shake your head in amusement, your melodic laughter being smothered by his mouth as he presses it to your own. You melt into him, your soft lips molding against his as his fingers press into the material of your dress. His chest is pressed against your own as he moves his mouth with yours in the type of kiss that leaves your mind hazy and warmth flood from your chest through every inch of your body.

Nico pulls away from you, his forehead pressed against your own as the two of you breath in sync. Your eyes stay closed as you let yourself remain in the moment, thinking of nothing but the feeling of him against you and the ghost of his lips on yours.

“I love you,” You mumble, eyes fluttering open to meet his, “I love you so much. Wherever you are is where I wanna be.”

“I love you,” He stressed, his eyes dancing across your face, “I love you all the way down to your bones. You make every hard day worth it and every good day the best day of my life. I know we still have some time to get there, but I can’t wait til you're mine forever.”

“I’m always yours forever, no matter what.”

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier fic #nico hischier one shot #nico hischier fluff #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #new jersey devils

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mikkomacko · 3 months ago

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I loved the little Nico reader and Johnny blurb! You should def do something small like that with them and holtzy next🥺 I’m in my missing Alex hours

Nico’s looking over your shoulder, a hand on your hip as he reads over the grocery list with you. You’ve both gotten pretty good at keeping the kitchen stocked and the grocery list stacked since adding Alex to the household. But between him and Nico, food seems to fly out of the fridge and cupboards faster than you can keep track of.

Which is why the list and the shopping has become a group affair.

“That’s everything,” you say, waiting a second while Nico finishes double checking for you. He squeezes your hip, humming his agreement and you tuck your phone away.

The checkout line slowly inches forward, the woman with the half filled basket in front of you sighing heavily. You meet her eyes, smiling politely and puffing out your own sigh of agreement. Maybe you should start making Nico and Alex take a day during the week to come shopping with you. The weekend crowd just isn’t cutting it anymore.

Alex is standing by the end of your overflowing cart, brown eyes downtrodden and lips pursed in that way they get when he’s scared. Not terrified scared, but anxious scared. You note the way he’s holding the edge of the cart, thoughtfully fingering the corner of the oatmilk coffee creamer stacked on top.

Oatmilk creamer, the kind Nico and you like. Not the kind Alex likes.

“Aw we forgot your vanilla one, Alex!” You say, and his gaze snaps up to yours. Relief floods his eyes, a sheepish smile on his face.

“Can I go run and get it?”

Nico nods his head back towards the dairy. “Go for it, the line’s not moving anyway.” Alex’s smiles wider, murmuring “excuse me’s” in a quiet and accented voice until he’s ducked out of the checkout lane and disappeared around the edge of it.

In the total wrong direction.

“Nico,” you whine, turning to him with pleading eyes. He pops his gum, frowning curiously at you. “Go make sure he doesn’t get lost please?”

“He’s a big kid, he’ll be fine.”

“He went the wrong way.”

Nico stands up taller, looks over the shelves and snorts quietly. “Let him get his energy out running up and down the aisles.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Nico Hischier if you don’t go right now and help him I swear to god-“

“Fine, ok,” he grunts, holding his hands up “but if you keep babying him, we’ll never get him out of our house.”

That’s not something you particularly care about though so you smile, patting him on the chest in thanks and sending him off with a short kiss. Nico makes his way down the checkout line, not bothering to say anything because everyone’s already scooting out of his way. You’ve always found it funny, how people seem to shy away from him.

Resting your elbows on the basket, you lean your weight into it and try to not be so impatient as the long lines ticks forward. The woman in front of you smiles again, briefly glancing to the area Alex was standing earlier.

“How old is he?” She questions.

“He just turned 18.”

She looks shocked, eyes slightly widening and lips parting as she looks you up and down. “Wow, you look way too young to have a son that age! I thought he was way younger.”

Oh, you gawk. No one has ever actually thought Alex was your kid. Sure you look older for your age and Nico has the personality of an old man but there’s not even close to being a normal amount of years between you and Alex for you to be his actual mother.

“He’s not-“you laugh, a bit caught off guard still “I’m not his mom. He’s just family.”

The lady’s cheeks tinge pink and you’d imagine yours are too judging by the heat burning at your face. She laughs too, holding her hand up in apology. “Oh he looks so much like your husband! I’m sorry I thought-anyway I was like I can’t believe how great this mom looks for her age.”

That makes you laugh, the awkwardness from before settling. Alex does look like Nico a bit, same color eyes, their dark and straight hair, even his nose a bit. And you’ve noticed him picking up Nico’s mannerism too, small things like the way he stands with his arms crossed or raises an eyebrow when he’s talking and is excited.

“Oof yeah I’m way too young to have a kid that old.” You agree, choosing to just breeze over her calling Nico your husband. Technically he’s not, but he’s as good as.

“Trust me there’s lots of time for that,” she assures, beginning to load her groceries onto the belt. “Seems like you’d be good at it too, if you decide to.”

Luckily, Nico and Alex slip their way back up to you just in time to save you because an uncomfortable and uncertain lump has lodged its way into your throat. Too early for the kid talk, like way too early.

Alex dumps his creamer into the basket, then a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream and finally a bag of some candy you’ve never seen before.

“Nico said I could.” He tells you with a pleased grin. “It’s Swedish.”

You had no idea there was even Swedish candy here but you laugh, shrugging off his explanation. “You can get whatever you want Alex, it’s ok.”

“As long as some of it is real food,” Nico cuts in, and you can feel the woman from before watching you three. “Not just chipotle and frozen pizza like the Hughes boys.”

Alex nods, a thoughtful look in his eyes and you can practically see him taking mental notes of every little piece of advice Nico’s given him. He blinks as if just realizing something.

“I don’t like frozen foods.”

Nico grins, smacks Alex on the shoulder like a proud father. “No harm then.” He grins, smacking his gum and then beginning to load the groceries onto the belt.

“I got it.” Alex jumps in, shooing Nico back to your side so he can empty the basket for you. Over his shoulder you meet the woman’s gaze again, the two of you sharing a knowing and amused smile before she’s walking away, a basket of bagged food going with her.

Nico rests his hand on your lower back, and you move in closer. “She thought he was our son,” you whisper into his ear, nodding towards the lady when Nico looks confused.

“Maybe your son,” Nico chuckles quietly, “we have more of a dog-owner relationship, ya know?” Even so, he’s smiling all shy and cute as he lies through his teeth.

You press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Mhm, whatever you say boss.”

#mob boss nico hischier #him and i chats #nico hischier #mob Alex Holtz

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seagull9111 · 9 months ago

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hazel and nico looking like the most beautiful, gorgeous, people ever.

hazel with the most captivating eyes and chocolate brown skin you have ever seen.

nico with the brown doe eyes and perfect hair that you could run your hand through over and over again.

the god of the underworld genes be giving the best looks aaaaa

tysm to @d4rkshad0w for catching a mistake i made!

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blakeswritingimagines · 3 months ago

Text

The Proposal; Chapter Two, New Beginnings

Summary: Things heat up between you and the perfect stranger you now share a bed with, in and out of bed and the office.

Warnings: Hints to smut, Reader touching self, Mention of reader's body leaning fem, Grinding against Nico's thigh, Nico teasing reader, Nico and reader showering together, Reader finally putting two and two together, Nico's dad finding you both in his office, Talk of being Nico's date to a party, Sweet Nico, Interrupted kiss moment.

Word Count: 8.7k

Pictures are from Pinterest

Part 1 - Part 2

You woke up, your body feeling warm and comfortable. Your eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, you were disoriented. The unfamiliar surroundings and the sense of someone else’s presence took a moment to sink in. Then you remembered: you were sharing a bed with Nico. You shifted slightly, feeling the heat of his body next to yours, and your heart skipped a beat at the proximity.

You chanced a glance over your shoulder and saw Nico, still sound asleep. His face was relaxed, his breath even, and for a moment, you just stared at his peaceful features. You could take a moment to appreciate how attractive he was: the strong jawline, the tousled brown hair, the slight stubbly hint of a beard. You wanted to reach out and touch him, to feel the warm skin of his face beneath your fingertips. Instead, you turned back away from him and tried to calm your racing heart. The rational side of you knew that this attraction was foolish, stupid even. You were stuck in a cabin with a stranger, and getting attached would only lead to heartbreak. But the more vulnerable part of you, the part that had been lonely for so long, yearned for his touch, his attention, his warmth. You tried to shake off the feeling, reminding yourself of the harsh truth: this was just a temporary situation. Once you stopped interning and you could leave the cabin, you’d never see Nico again, and all of this would fade away like a dream. But as you lay there, feeling the heat of his body inches away, it was difficult to cling to that rational thought. You heard a soft sigh from behind you, and then Nico stirred, his body shifting closer to yours. He murmured something incoherent in his sleep, and you felt his arm brush against your back. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, and you tensed, fighting the urge to press back into his touch.

He was still asleep, seemingly unaware of the effect he was having on you. But his proximity was making it hard for you to think straight. You could feel his breath on your neck, his arm now resting casually over your waist. Your heart was racing, your body hyper-aware of his presence. Part of you wanted to pull away, to put some distance between you, but another part of you was relishing in the warmth and comfort of his touch. You hadn’t been held by anyone in so long. And Nico’s presence was both comforting and arousing in equal measure. Feeling a sudden rush of excitement coursing through your veins, you slowly start to caress your own body under the covers. Your fingers trace up and down your thighs, teasingly close to touching the part of you that's throbbing with need. You bite your lower lip, trying to stifle a moan as you continue to pleasure yourself discreetly while Nico continues sleeping next to you. Feeling emboldened, you slide your hand further up, gently rubbing your clit through your panties. The soft fabric does nothing to dull the sensations, each stroke sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You can't help but let out a quiet gasp, hoping Nico doesn't wake up from your illicit actions. As you continue to touch yourself, you notice how Nico is shifting slightly in his sleep. His arm has moved from your waist to around your hip, pulling you closer towards him. You can feel his hardness pressing against your thigh, fueling your desire even more. You take this opportunity to grind your pussy against his thigh, letting out a soft whimper as you do so. As you grind against his thigh, you can see that he is stirring, his breath coming out in soft pants. You know he is waking up now, although he hasn’t opened his eyes yet. But his grip on your hip seems to tighten a little, pulling you closer, his legs shifting as if he is trying to get more comfortable.

You sensed a change in his breathing, the steady rhythm becoming more erratic. His arm around your hip seemed to tighten even further, and you could feel him stirring more fully awake. You closed your eyes, trying to feign sleep, pretending as if you weren’t aware of the effect you were having on him. You feel Nico stirring more, his grip on your hip getting firmer. “Mmmm… what are you doing, grumpy?” he murmurs in a sleepy tone, his voice low and groggy. He pulls your hip back against him, and you bite your lip to keep from shivering. “You’re grinding against me… and you’re trying to pretend you’re asleep… You know I can tell, right?” The feeling of him calling you “grumpy” in that sleepy, raspy voice sent shivers down your spine. But you kept your eyes closed, trying to maintain the facade of sleep. You could feel his breath warm on your neck, his hand tracing soft patterns on your hip. “Come on, grumpy… I know you’re awake. Stop pretending,” he murmurs, his voice deeper now, more gravelly. You remain silent, trying to keep your breathing even and steady, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your belly as he continues to caress your hip. “You can’t fool me, grumpy. I can feel how tense you are… I can hear the way you’re breathing.” He leans closer, his lips barely touching the skin of your neck. “Wake up, grumpy… I want you to say my name.” You feel a flood of heat in your core as he whispers in your ear, his words sending sparks through your body. But the reality of the situation suddenly comes crashing back down on you. You were supposed to be pretending to be asleep, not getting turned on by his touch and his words. You need a moment to calm down, to collect yourself. So you slowly untangle your body from his, getting up from the bed and making your way to the bathroom. Once inside the bathroom, you close the door behind you, leaning against the cold surface for a moment. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest, and you take a few deep breaths to try and collect yourself. You can still feel the ghost of Nico’s touch on your skin, and the throb of desire between your thighs is almost overwhelming.

You turn on the faucet, splashing cold water on your face, trying to cool down the heat coursing through your body. But the image of him, his sleepy voice whispering to you, his hand tracing patterns on your skin, his lips pressing against your throat… it all swims through your mind, stoking the flames of desire even further. You take a few more deep breaths, trying to regain control of your body and your thoughts. You remind yourself that this is just a weird, temporary situation. That as soon as the storm is over and you can escape, you’ll never see Nico again. You can’t let yourself get attached, no matter how attractive he is, how good his touch feels. But the image of his sleep-tousled hair and his warm, sleepy eyes keep popping into your mind. You turn off the faucet and look at yourself in the mirror. You felt a rush of heat coursing through your body, your heart hammering in your chest. your eyes wide and wild. You look like a woman who is losing control, a woman who is barely holding onto her sanity. And the worst part is, you like it, you crave more of his touch, more of his whispered words in your ear. You take a few more deep breaths, trying to calm down. You can’t go back out there. Not yet. Not until you’re sure you won’t do something stupid like crawl back into bed with him and let him do whatever he wants with you. You turn on the shower to at least pretend to get ready for work, trying to cool down, but nothing seems to help. Your body is thrumming with desire, your mind overrun with images of Nico. Despite the water raining down on you, your skin still feels hot, your body practically throbbing for his touch. You can hear him moving around outside the bathroom door, his footsteps echoing through the cabin, and it only serves to heighten your senses. You can almost feel him standing on the other side of the door, his presence like a magnet pulling you towards him.

As you’re still trying to calm yourself in the shower, you hear a knock on the bathroom door. “Grumpy?” Nico’s voice comes through the door, low and velvety. Your heart flutters at the sound. You freeze, your body tense as you hear his voice. You had hoped to have a few more moments of solitude, but it seems Nico had other plans. “Yeah?” you croak out, trying to sound casual. “I need to take a shower too, you know.” His voice is still low and velvety, sending shivers down your spine. “Can I come in?” Your heart thumps in your chest at his request. The thought of him in the shower, naked and wet, is enough to make you almost weak in the knees. But you try to keep your voice steady as you respond. “It’s, umm, kinda small in here,” you say, lamely. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” He says, a hint of a smile in his voice. There’s silence for a moment, and you can almost picture him standing outside the door, just a few feet away from you. “Unless you want me to,” he continues, his voice dropping even lower, making your breath hitch in your throat. You can’t help but shiver at his words. You know you should say no, that you should tell him to wait until you’re done, but the thought of him in the shower with you, his body bare and wet, is too enticing to resist. “O-okay,” you manage to stutter out. “You can come in.” “Aww, come on grumpy,” you hear him say, a hint of a pout in his voice. “We’re both adults here. We can share a shower, can’t we?” A shiver runs down your spine at his words, and you can feel your resistance crumbling. You know it’s a bad idea. You know you should say no, tell him you need more time, anything to put some distance between you. But the memory of his touch, the sound of his voice, it all makes your body ache for his presence, his touch. “Fine,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Come in.” “I’m coming in then,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice now. The doorknob turns, and the door creaks open, and there he is, standing in the doorway, looking even more gorgeous than usual in his boxer briefs. The sight of his bare upper body, the lean muscles of his arms and chest, sends a fresh wave of heat through you. “See?” he says, his voice low and amused as he leans against the doorframe. “I told you we’d fit.” His eyes roam over your body, your skin still wet from the shower, and you can feel the weight of his gaze, the hunger behind his eyes.

You try to keep your eyes on his face, to maintain some semblance of control, but your gaze keeps straying to his body, to the way his muscles flex and move beneath his skin, to the prominent bulge in his boxer briefs. Your heart is racing, your breath coming short, and you feel like you are on the verge of losing all sense of reason. “You know,” he says, pushing off the door frame and taking a few steps towards you, “We could save water if we shower together. It’s good for the environment.” There’s a teasing tone to his voice, but his eyes are darkened with desire, his gaze roaming up and down your body, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You know he’s right. You know it’s a logical argument. But the real reason he wants to shower with you has less to do with saving the environment and more to do with the way his body is reacting to your presence, the way his eyes keep raking over your bare skin. But with Nico’s presence behind you, his eyes watching every movement of your hands, it’s hard to stay focused. You can feel his gaze on you like a physical touch, your body hyper-aware of his proximity. You try to speed up the process, to finish as quickly as possible, but Nico has other plans. He steps closer to you, his body so close that you can feel the heat radiating off of him. His hands come to rest on your hips, his touch sending jolts of electricity through your body. “You’re in a hurry,” he says, his voice low and gravelly in your ear. “I have to get ready for work,” you respond, trying to keep your voice steady. Despite his attempts to distract you, you know you can’t afford to be late for work, especially not on your first day. So you push away his hands, taking a step forward and grabbing the shampoo off of the ledge. “I’m going to wash my hair,” you say in a somewhat firm tone, trying to keep your voice steady. But Nico isn’t giving up so easily. He steps closer to you once again, his hands going to your shoulders, his touch gentle but insistent.

“Let me do it,” he says, his voice low and seductive. “I’ll wash your hair for you.” You know you should resist, you know you should protest, but the idea of his hands in your hair, massaging your scalp, is too enticing to resist. “Okay,” you say weakly, unable to deny him any longer. Nico doesn’t like your answer, his grip on your shoulders tightening slightly. “Come on, grumpy,” he says, an edge to his voice. “Let me do this for you. I promise you won’t regret it.” His hands move down your arms, his fingers caressing your skin lightly. You try to ignore the heat pooling in your belly at his proximity, at the sound of his voice. But he’s so close, his body pressed against yours, his hands holding your wrists captive, that it’s hard to think straight. “I…” you start to protest, but his hands start moving up and down your arms, massaging the tension out of your muscles, and all you can do is moan softly in response. He smiles against your neck, a satisfied sound escaping his lips. “That’s better,” he says, his hands working the shampoo into your hair, his fingers gentle but firm. As he massages your scalp, you feel yourself relaxing, your body melting into his touch. “See?” he says, his hands moving down to your shoulders, squeezing the muscles there. “You needed this. You were so tense. You’re always so tense.” He kisses the side of your neck again, his lips lingering on your skin for a moment. “You need to learn to relax a little, grumpy.” You can’t deny it; his touch feels amazing, his fingers working the knots out of your muscles, his lips on your neck sending shivers down your spine. But you try to maintain some semblance of control. “I-I’m not always tense,” you say, trying to sound casual, even as you moan softly under his touch. “Yes, you are,” he says, his hands moving down your back, tracing patterns on your skin. “I can feel it, you know. I can feel all that tension in your body. You’re like a coiled spring, ready to snap at any moment.” He squeezes your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. “You need to let go a little, grumpy. Learn to let someone else take care of you for once.”

You don’t have a rebuttal to that. His words, his touch, it’s all too intoxicating. You can feel yourself slipping, losing control, giving in to the sensations he’s evoking in your body. “Ahh…” you moan softly as his hands move lower, tracing patterns on your thighs. Despite the pleasure coursing through your body, you know you can’t give in completely. Nico is still a stranger, after all, and you don’t even know each other’s last names. So you gather all of your willpower and gently pull away from his touch. “I… I need to finish up and get ready for work,” you say, your voice a little unsteady. Nico looks a little disappointed, but he doesn’t push the issue. “Okay,” he says, stepping back to give you some space. “I’ll finish up too.” He picks up the bottle of shampoo and starts working it into his own hair, his eyes on you the whole time. “I suppose I can’t talk you into being late?” he says with a pout on his lips. You shake your head, trying to keep your focus on the task at hand. You grab the towel off of the hook on the wall and start drying yourself off. “No, I can’t be late on my first day of work,” you say. “It’s important.” He lets out a sigh and continues washing his hair, still watching you with those dark, hungry eyes. “You know,” he says, his voice casual, “You don’t have to be so responsible all the time. I’m sure your boss would understand if you were a little late.” You shake your head again, trying to block out the sight of his wet, muscular body so close to you in the small space. “No, I don’t want to make a bad impression,” you say, wrapping the towel around yourself and stepping out of the shower. “I need this job, it'll look great on my resume.” Nico just rolls his eyes and rinses the shampoo out of his hair. “You’re such a stickler for rules, grumpy,” he says, a hint of a smile in his voice. “It’s like you don’t know how to have any fun at all.”

You ignore his provocations and start getting ready for work, trying to block out the sight of his sexy, dripping body in the shower behind you. You can feel his eyes on your back, watching your every move, but you try to pretend like you’re not affected by him. “You know,” he says, his voice sultry and low, “You’re playing a dangerous game, being all business-like in front of me like this.” You hear the water shutting off, and a moment later he steps out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his hips. You try not to let your eyes wander over his body, but it’s hard to resist the sight of his lean muscles, the water still dripping down his chest and arms. “What do you mean?” you ask, trying to sound casual as you apply your makeup in the mirror. “You’re all business on the outside,” he says, moving closer to you, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “But I know what you’re thinking deep down. I know how much you want me, how much you enjoyed our little… encounter early this morning.” Your heart flutters at his words, your body responding instantly to his proximity, to the heat of his gaze. But you try to maintain some semblance of control. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant as you finish applying your lipstick. He laughs, a low, sultry sound that sends shivers down your spine. “I call bullshit,” he says, moving even closer until his chest is pressed against your back, the heat of his body seeping into your skin. “You can’t hide anything from me, grumpy. I can see right through you.” You feel your body responding to his touch, to the feel of his body pressed against your back. But you try to stay strong, to not give into the desires coursing through your veins. “You don’t know anything about me,” you say, trying to sound strong, but your voice comes out shaky.

Despite the distraction of his proximity, you manage to finish getting dressed, your skin still heated from his touch, your body still tingling with desire. You take a deep breath and check your appearance one last time in the mirror before turning to him, trying to sound aloof even though you’re practically shaking with need. “I’ve got to go,” you say, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t want to be late for work.” Nico looks disappointed, but he doesn’t try to stop you. “Of course,” he says, stepping back to give you some space. “You can’t be late for work, after all.” There’s a hint of sarcasm in his voice, like he can see right through your feigned indifference. You ignore the jab and start to head for the door, trying to escape the confinement of the small bathroom before you do something stupid like throw yourself at him. But as you walk past him, he reaches out and grabs your wrist, his touch sending jolts of electricity through your body. “Hey, wait a second,” he says, holding you still. “We never exchanged numbers.” You can feel his eyes on you, searching your face, and you try to keep your expression neutral, even as your heart thumps against your ribcage. “I suppose we haven’t,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “But it’s not like we have anything else to talk about. We got what we wanted, didn’t we?” He hands you back your phone with a sly smile, the tips of his fingers brushing across your hand in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. “Text me later, grumpy,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “I want to see how your first day goes.” You nod, trying to sound nonchalant even though your body is practically vibrating with desire. “Yeah, yeah, sure,” you say before quickly exiting the cabin, desperate to get out of his presence before you do something stupid.

It's been a few hours now since you left the cabin, and you're finally getting settled into your job at Hischier Corporations. You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as you sit at your desk, sorting through documents and making phone calls. The work is interesting, and the people you're working with are nice, but you can't seem to shake the memory of your encounter with Nico earlier. You're finally getting settled into your job at Hischier Corporations. You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as you sit at your desk, sorting through documents and making phone calls. The work is interesting, and the people you're working with are nice, but you can't seem to shake the memory of your encounter with Nico earlier. As you step into a corporate office of Hischier Corporations, your heart is racing, your mind still buzzing with the memory of this morning’s encounter. But you try to push the thoughts aside and focus on your new job. You were hired for a highly competitive internship position, a foot in the door for law students looking to break into the world of corporate law. You leave a meeting late in the day, your mind racing with the information you’ve just learned. As you step out of the conference room, you don’t see him at first, but then you hear a familiar voice calling your name. “Hey, grumpy.” You look up and sure enough, there he is, leaning against the wall with a sly smile on his face. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of him, but you try to act casual, like you haven’t been thinking about him all day. “What are you doing here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. He pushes off the wall and saunters over to you, a grin on his face. “I could ask you the same question,” he says, his eyes roaming over your body in a way that makes you shiver. You try to ignore the way your body reacts to his proximity, the way your pulse quickens at his touch. “I’m an intern here,” you say, avoiding his gaze. “I have a job to do. What’s your excuse?” He shrugs, that grin never leaving his face. “I have business here,” he says, taking a step closer to you, his body now mere inches from yours. “This is my family’s company, after all.” Your eyebrows shoot up at his words, realization dawning on you. “Your family’s company?” you ask, a note of surprise in your voice. “You mean to tell me your last name is…?”

He grins, seeing the lightbulb go off in your head. “Yeah, that’s right,” he says, taking another step closer to you, his body now nearly touching yours. “Nico Hischier, at your service.” He steps closer to you, his body almost touching yours, and you can feel the heat radiating off of him. “I was just visiting my father’s office,” he says, his voice low and rough. “Though I’d rather see if I could catch a glimpse of my grumpy little bedmate out to lunch.” Your heart skips a beat at his words, the way he says "bedmate" sending a shiver down your spine. But you try to keep your cool, your brain still processing the fact that he's the heir to this huge corporation. "Why didn't you tell me?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. His smile just widens at your question. "I don't know, really," he says, leaning against the wall next to you. "I guess I just liked the fact that you didn't recognize me. It was nice to be a normal guy for a change, not 'the heir to the Hischier fortune' and all that garbage." He looks at you, his eyes roving over your face. "Plus, I knew you'd act differently if you knew I was the boss's son," he says, a hint of a smirk on his lips. "You'd start being all formal and polite, and I think I like it better when you're all grumpy and feisty." You can feel your heart rate increasing at his words, the way he looks at you sending a flood of heat through your body. But you try to stay composed, your mind still processing the fact that the man you spent the night with is the heir to one of the biggest corporations in the world. "So you were just playing me this whole time," you say, trying to sound nonchalant. He just shakes his head, that smirk still on his lips. "I wasn't playing you," he says, his voice low and persuasive as he leans closer to you. "I really enjoyed spending time with you. You're different from all the stuck-up heiresses and socialites I usually have to deal with. You're real. You're not afraid to speak your mind, to stand up to me. I like that about you."

Your heart flutters in your chest at his words, the compliments sending a rush of warmth through your body. But you try to keep your cool, trying not to let your attraction to him show too much. "I… see," you say, trying to sound unimpressed, even though you're anything but. He chuckles at your feigned disinterest, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh come on, grumpy," he says, his voice teasing. "You're not fooling anyone. I know you're enjoying this as much as I am." He takes a step closer to you, his body now nearly touching yours. "Why don't you admit it? You like me, and you're dying to see what happens the next time we're alone together." You take a deep breath, trying to regain your composure. This man is dangerous, you think to yourself. He's attractive and charming, and you find yourself more and more attracted to him every time you see him. But you can't let yourself get distracted, not when you have a job to do. "Listen," you say, taking a step back from him. "I've got work to do. I'll see you later." He sighs, a pouting expression on his face. "You're always working," he says, crossing his arms over his chest. "Can't you take a break for a second? I could show you my father's office. It has a really nice view of the city." You resist the urge to roll your eyes. This man is relentless. But you also can't deny the tingle of excitement at the thought of seeing his father's office, of being in his world for a little while. "Fine," you say, trying to sound aloof. "But just for a few minutes." His face lights up at your agreement, and he grins, taking hold of your hand and starting to lead you down the hallway. You let him lead you, your heart thudding in your chest at the feel of his fingers intertwined with yours, at the warmth of his touch.

As you walk with him, you can't help but feel a little self-conscious. You're just a lowly intern, while he's the heir to a massive corporation. But he doesn't seem to care about the difference in your social status, his grip on your hand firm and possessive. He leads you to a large, modern office with floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the city skyline. The view is indeed impressive, and you can't help but be a little awestruck. But you try to keep your cool, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you impressed. He leads you to the windows, his fingers releasing yours in favor of wrapping his arm around your waist. It's an intimate gesture, one that makes your heart skip a beat. You look out at the city below, feeling his body pressed against your side, his warmth seeping into your skin. "See? I told you the view was nice," he says, his voice low and rough in your ear. You can feel his breath on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "But I have to admit, I'd rather be looking at something else right now." You roll your eyes, but you're also secretly enjoying the way he's holding you, the way his body is pressed against yours. "Oh, yeah? And what would that be?" you ask, trying to sound nonchalant, even though your heart is racing in your chest. The sound of a throat clearing behind you catches your attention. Your heart jumps in your chest as you turn around to see an older man standing in the doorway, a stern expression on his face. The man is tall and imposing, with the same sharp features and intense gaze as Nico. This must be his father. Nico stiffens beside you, his hand falling away from your waist as he turns to address his father. "Father," he says, his voice suddenly serious. "I was just showing this young woman the view from your office."

His father's gaze flicks from Nico to you, appraising you silently. You can feel his gaze like a weight on your shoulders, his eyes studying you carefully as he takes in your appearance. Finally, he speaks, his voice deep and authoritative. "And who might this young woman be?" You feel a sudden pang of nervousness as you're put on the spot, but you try to keep your composure. "I'm just an intern, sir," you say, your voice coming out a little shakier than you would like since you really didn't want to lose this job. His father nods, his expression unreadable. "I see," he says, his eyes flicking back to Nico. "And why did you bring this intern to my office, Nico?" Nico shifts awkwardly beside you, his casual demeanor from earlier gone in the face of his father's stern demeanor. "I just thought she might appreciate the view, father," he says, his voice sounding a little sheepish. His father hums in response, his gaze still fixed on you. "I see," he says again, his eyes roving over your body. "And what exactly are you interning for, young lady?" "I'm studying law," you say, trying to sound confident even though you feel like this man is dissecting you with his gaze. "I'm hoping to eventually become a corporate lawyer, sir." His father nods, his expression betraying no trace of emotion. "Ah, I see," he says. "Corporate law, eh? It's a demanding field. Not for the faint of heart." You nod, feeling the weight of his words. "Yes, sir. I'm aware of that." You glance at Nico, who is standing quietly beside you, his hands shoved into his pockets and his shoulders slightly hunched. His father's gaze flicks to Nico once more, and the atmosphere in the room grows even more tense. "Well," he says, his voice cold. "Nico, I think I'd like to speak to you in private."

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment. On one hand, you're glad to be excused from the intense atmosphere in the room, but on the other, you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment at not being able to spend more time with Nico. You take a deep breath and try to collect yourself, reminding yourself that you still have a job to do. After all, you're here to work, not flirt with the boss's son. "I'll just get back to work." You expect Nico to protest, to try to keep you from leaving, but he just looks at you instead. “Yeah, sure, go have fun doing whatever boring intern work you’ve got to do. Just don’t forget to text me later.” His father clears his throat, his gaze still fixed on you. "Yes, I think that would be best," he says, a note of finality in his voice. You nod again, feeling a mix of awkwardness and curiosity. You can feel Nico's gaze on you as you turn to leave the room, his father's eyes seeming to bore into your back. But you push down your emotions and focus on getting back to your desk as quickly as possible. As you make your way back to your office, your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts. What did Nico's father want to talk to him about? Was it about you? Your job? You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. You have work to do, you remind yourself. You can't afford to get distracted by the charming and confusing heir to Hischier Corporations. You focus on your work, trying to push the thoughts of Nico's father and Nico himself to the back of your mind. But it's difficult, especially when your mind keeps replaying the feeling of his fingers around yours, the press of his body against yours, the look in his eyes as his father interrupted you both. Despite your best efforts, you find yourself sneaking glances at the door to the office, half-hoping Nico will come bursting out and sweep you off your feet. But the door remains stubbornly closed, and you have to remind yourself once again that you're here to work, not daydream about the boss's son.

You step into the cabin, tired and ready to decompress after a long day at work. As you enter, you notice Nico sitting on the couch, a beer in his hand and a pensive expression on his face. He looks up as you come in, his eyes locking with yours. "Hey," he says, his voice quiet and low. "You're back." He pats the spot on the couch next to him, gesturing for you to come sit down. "How was work?" "It was fine," you say, trying to sound casual as you sit down next to him. "Just the usual intern stuff. Lots of paperwork and coffee-fetching." He nods, taking a swig of his beer. "Sounds exciting," he says dryly, a hint of a smirk on his lips. There's a beat of silence between you, the air thick with tension. "So… what did your father want to talk to you about?" you ask, unable to keep the curiosity out of your voice. Nico shrugs, taking another sip of his beer. "Oh, you know. Just the usual stuff. Business this, family that. Nothing important." You arch an eyebrow, not fooled by his casual tone. "Really? That's all?" The corner of his mouth lifts in a sardonic smile. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it, grumpy. It's nothing that concerns you." Your eyes narrow at his dismissive tone, his words making you bristle a little. "You don't have to talk down to me, you know," you say, a hint of annoyance in your voice. "I'm not an idiot. I can handle whatever it is you're not telling me."

He turns to look at you, his gaze intense. "I know you're not an idiot," he says, his voice rough. "But this is family stuff. It's complicated, and it's not something I feel like sharing right now." He takes another sip of his beer, his eyes still fixed on yours. "Actually, there is something I wanted to talk to you about," he says, his voice low. "My family is throwing a party this weekend. A sort of gathering for all the business associates and socialites that my father does business with. And I want you to come.. as my own guest." Your eyes widen at his words, a mixture of surprise and excitement coursing through you. "You… want me to come to your family's party?" you say, trying (and failing) to sound nonchalant. "Isn't that going to be a bit… posh for someone like me?" He laughs, leaning back against the couch. "That's exactly why I want you there," he says, a hint of a smirk on his lips. "You're not like the other stuffy socialites my family usually invites. You're genuine, and you don't put up with my crap." You feel a flicker of warmth at his words, his compliment sending a thrill through you. But you try to keep your cool, not wanting to show how much his words affect you. "I don't know," you say, pretending to think about it. "Won't I look out of place there?" He chuckles, setting his beer down on the table in front of him. "Not at all," he says, shifting closer to you on the couch. "If anything, you'll be the most interesting person there. Besides me, of course, but I'm sure we could do some shopping if it's such a big deal." You raise an eyebrow at his comment about shopping, but you can't help but smile at his confidence. "So, you're saying you'll buy me a fancy dress if I agree to go to this party with you?" He grins, his eyes sparkling with playful mischief. "I'll buy you anything you want," he says, his voice lower now. "As long as you agree to be my date."

You feel your heart skip a beat at his words, your mind racing with a million thoughts all at once. You shouldn't say yes, your rational mind tells you. Getting involved with Nico Hischier is a recipe for trouble. But the look in his eyes, the way his proximity is making your heart race, it's all making it very difficult to say no. "I…" Your voice trails off, your mind and heart warring with each other. On one hand, you know that saying no is the sensible thing to do. But on the other hand, the thought of being Nico's date at this fancy party, of being on his arm and having him look at you with those intense eyes of his… It's a tempting proposition. He moves even closer to you on the couch, his body pressed against yours now. "Say you'll come with me," he says, his voice a low murmur in your ear. "Please, grumpy." You feel your resolve weakening at the huskiness in his voice, the feeling of his body pressed against yours sending a shiver down your spine. You know you should say no, but the way he's looking at you, the way he's making you feel… It's impossible to refuse him which causes you to look away as you roll your eyes and quietly give in. "…fine." The grin that spreads across his face is almost triumphant, his eyes lighting up with victory. "That's my girl," he says, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. "You won't regret it, I promise." You try and fail to suppress the flutter of excitement that blossoms in your chest at his words. "I better not," you mutter, your voice betraying your attempt to be indifferent. "This better be worth it. Besides where are you even planning on finding such a dress that's even good enough for this party?"

"I have my ways," he says, his smirk growing even wider. "Trust me, I'll find something that'll make all the other women at that party pale in comparison." Your heart skips a beat at the way his touch is sending tingles through your body, your skin burning beneath his fingertips. "Easy for you to say," you mutter, unable to resist the urge to banter with him. "You're used to fancy parties and high society. I'm just a nobody." You can't help but smile at his words, your body reacting unconsciously to his touch. "But I suppose I can manage that," you say, trying to sound blasé even though your heart is fluttering in your chest. "As long as you're buying, that is." He laughs, leaning even closer to you on the couch. His hand is still on your knee, his fingers tracing tantalizing circles on your skin. "You drive a hard bargain," he says, his voice low and rough. "I like it. I like you." He pulls back slightly, fixing you with a heated gaze. "You know, you're not giving yourself enough credit. You're not just a nobody, grumpy. You're intelligent, you're honest, and something tells me that you'll keep up just fine." You feel a mixture of pleasure and disbelief at his words, your heart squeezing painfully in your chest. It's hard to believe that a man as charming and charismatic as Nico would be interested in someone like you, but the way he's looking at you, the way he's touching you… It makes you feel like the most important person in the world. "I… uh, thanks," you mumble as you look down and play with your fingers. "I'll do my best not to embarrass you." Your heart skips a beat at his words, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. "You're not so bad yourself," you mutter, trying to sound casual even though his compliments are making your head spin. "When you're not being a total pain in the ass, that is."

He laughs, his hand moving up to cup your chin and gently lifting your face so you're looking at him again. "I have no doubt that you'll be anything but a complete and utter success," he says, his voice dripping with sincerity. "You have no idea how captivating you are, do you?" Your heart skips a beat at his words, you grow more flustered further under his intense gaze. "I…" you murmur, your mind struggling to form a coherent thought. "I'm not-" you start to protest, but he cuts you off with a gentle shushing sound. "Don’t," he says, his thumb tracing the curve of your lip. "Don't argue with me. Just believe me when I tell you that you're breathtaking." You shiver involuntarily at his touch, your heart fluttering in your chest. His words are making it hard to think straight, his intense gaze and the heat of his touch making you feel like you're drowning in a sea of emotion. "You're not… you're not just saying that, right?" you ask, your voice soft and hesitant. "You really think I'm… captivating?" He chuckles, a soft and warm sound that makes your heart flutter. "And why not? I'm just telling the truth." His hand continues to caress your skin, his touch gentle yet possessive. "You're smart, funny, and so damn beautiful it takes my breath away. I'd be a fool not to say it." Your mind is a whirlwind of mixed emotions as you try to process his words. No one has ever spoken to you this way before, and it's both exhilarating and terrifying. "You're… you're just saying that to get me to come to this party with you," you say, your voice a bit shaky. "You don't really mean it." He shakes his head, his eyes locked with yours. "I mean every word," he says, his voice serious. "I'm not just saying this to get you to go to the party with me. I'm saying it because it's true." He pauses, his hand moving up to cup your cheek. "And because I think you deserve to hear it.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest at his words, your breath catching in your throat. You've never had anyone speak to you with such intensity and sincerity, and it's both overwhelming and intoxicating. "Nico…" you murmur again, your voice barely above a whisper. "I…" You're lost for words, your mind reeling as you try to come to terms with the emotions he's stirring within you. As you sit there, your heart racing and your mind swirling with emotions, you're suddenly snapped out of the moment by the sound of a phone ringing. The noise seems jarring in the quiet room, and you both freeze, eyes locked on each other for a moment. Finally, Nico lets out a low curse, pulling back slightly as he reaches into his pocket to retrieve his phone. He mutters a curse under his breath, his eyes reluctantly leaving yours to look at the screen. "I have to take this," he mutters, his hand falling away from your cheek. "Give me a minute." You nod, your lips parted as you try to catch your breath. Your heart is still racing, the moment of near-kiss still hanging heavy in the air around you. You watch as he steps away, answering the call and moving into the other room for a bit of privacy. As soon as he's gone, you let out a shaky breath, your mind still reeling from the intensity of the moment. You can't believe how close you just came to kissing him, how close you were to crossing a line that can't be uncrossed. And yet, as crazy as it is, you find yourself craving that kiss, your heart still racing with the adrenaline of the almost-moment. As you wait for Nico to return, you try to calm your racing thoughts, but it's difficult. You keep replaying the moment over and over in your head, the way he looked at you, the way his hand felt against your skin, the way his breath had been warm against your skin… And suddenly, the sound of his footsteps approaching jolts you out of your reverie, your heart skipping a beat as you realize he's coming back.

He walks back into the room, a stoic look on his face. You can't tell if he's still thinking about what just happened or if the call has distracted him completely. He glances at you for a moment, his eyes unreadable, before he speaks. "Sorry about that," he says, his voice gruff. "Family business." You nod, trying to appear nonchalant even though your heart is still racing. "It's okay," you say, your voice coming out a little breathless. "Is everything alright?" He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, it's just the party preparations," he says, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "My dad is a perfectionist, and he's driving me insane with all the details, especially since I'm actually home for it this time." A pang of curiosity and a bit of jealousy rises in your chest. You've never really seen this side of Nico before, the dutiful son who has to deal with his over-demanding father. "Ah," you say, trying to sound nonchalant. "So… you're not home that often, huh?" He shakes his head, sinking down onto the couch next to you again. "No, I'm usually training or playing," he says, shrugging. "This is the first party I've been to in… god, maybe a couple years." Your mind reels with this information. You'd always assumed that Nico lived a cushy life, attending fancy parties and social events without a care in the world. But to learn that he's actually spent most of the last few years dedicated to his hockey career, and this party is such a rare occurrence… it adds a whole new layer of complexity to the man sitting next to you. You raise an eyebrow at his words. "A couple years?" you ask, unable to hide your surprise. "Why so long?"

He scrubs a hand over his face, looking slightly weary. "I don't know," he says, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "I guess I just got caught up in the game. The training, the practices, the games… it all got so intense, and the parties just seemed so… superfluous, I guess. Waste of time." He pauses, his gaze drifting to you. "But this time is different." Your heart skips a beat at his words, your mind automatically going to the moment you'd just shared. "Why is this time different?" you ask, trying to keep your voice neutral. He hesitates for a moment, a flicker of something intense in his eyes. "Because you'll be there," he says, his voice low. "It'll be different having you there beside me." Your heart flutters in your chest at his words, a mixture of pleasure and surprise coursing through you. "You really think so?" you murmur, your eyes locking with his. He nods, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I know so," he says, his hand coming to rest on your knee again, his touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You make everything different, grumpy." You feel a mix of emotions - flustered, pleased, and a bit overwhelmed by the intensity in his eyes. Your heart is racing, your skin burning under his touch. You try to respond with some witty banter, but all you can manage is a soft murmur. "Flatterer.” He chuckles, his hand squeezing your knee gently. "I'm not flattering you, I'm just stating a fact," he says, his voice soft. "You make everything… brighter, somehow. More interesting." He pauses, his gaze roaming over your face, lingering on your lips for a moment. "I can't wait to see you in a fancy dress, grumpy."

Your pulse quickens at his words, your skin tingling under his touch. You try to come up with a witty retort, but your mind is a mess of emotions. "You're… you're impossible, you know that?" you manage to stammer out, your heart beating wildly in your chest. He grins, that cocky, confident smirk that both annoys and thrills you. "You love it, admit it," he teases, his hand still resting on your knee, his thumb making lazy circles on your skin. You roll your eyes, trying to act nonchalant even though his touch is sending shivers down your spine. "I wouldn't go that far," you mutter, but you can't keep the smile off your face, the heat of his touch igniting a fire deep within you. He chuckles again, enjoying your reaction. "Oh, come on," he says, his hand starting to travel up your leg. "You love it when I tease you. It gets you all flustered." After a few moments of being caught up in the intensity of the moment, you finally manage to collect yourself enough to change the topic. "So… about this party," you say, your voice a little breathless. "What exactly should I expect? I've never been to one of these things before." He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by your attempt to change the subject. But he goes along with it anyway, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "It's pretty standard fare," he says nonchalantly. "Fancy food, fancy drinks, fancy people. I'm sure you'll fit right in, grumpy." You make a face at his words, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, right," you mutter, a hint of anxiety in your voice. "I don't know the first thing about these fancy parties. I'll probably stick out like a sore thumb." He chuckles at your skepticism, leaning closer to you once again. "Don't worry," he says, his voice low. "You'll do just fine. Just follow my lead, I'll take care of everything." He gives your knee a reassuring squeeze, his hand lingering on your skin.

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier x you #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier fanfic #nj devils #njd #new jersey devils #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction

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puck-bunnies · 1 year ago

Text

kisses down low

nico hischier x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw 18+, basically pure word porn, oral sex (f receiving), praising, ass and thigh slapping, use of pet names (baby, pretty girl, good girl), light teasing, not proof read

“i like my kisses down low, makes me arch my back. when you give it to me slow, baby just like that.”

word count: 2.5k

♪ - kisses down low, kelly rowland

sounds of the midnight traffic fills the small apartment. i keep the room dark, the only light is the soft glow of the city’s lights mixed with the vanilla candle burning on the bedside table. a soft hum fills the room, the silence killing me, but so does the suspense. when will nico walk through the door?

he’s been on the road for quite some time, finally coming home for the games at the rock. i wait for his arrival, laying on top of the messily made covers. my legs are bare with the mini sweat shorts i wear, the bottom of my ass on display when i roll onto my side. my top is only covered with a soft pink bra, cupping me perfectly for eyes to linger on. i’m dressed perfectly for nico’s arrival.

i watch out the window, looking at all the lights glowing in the apartments around me. every light indicating a different family, different life, different problems. every car driving around the streets, ones wanting to get home to their family, get to a club, or just aimlessly searching for purpose.

the world is so huge, so many different lives happening at once. mine and everyones decisions molding everybody else’s lives, not just our own.

my thoughts suddenly snap out of my head as i hear the distant front door opening. a deep voice softly whispering my name, searching for my body that lays still in the bedroom. my eyes stay trained on the skyline, my ears listen to the apartment around me.

the footsteps getting ever so closer, the whisper of my name filling the halls. it’s all stopped when the next door opens, my bedroom door cracking open as brown eyes peer around them. i don’t see them, my back facing the door, but my body is not shielded from their sight.

“y/n?” nico whispers behind me, i look over my shoulder. even through i knew he was there, seeing his face ignites a spark in me. i raise myself in the bed, the mattress sinking with the weight of me on my knees.

nico rushes to me, pulling me in a tight hug. my head nuzzles in his chest, though i’m careful not to mess up my perfectly done makeup. the black hoodie he’s wearing doesn’t do much to cover his muscles, i feel him flex around me as his arms pull me closer to him by my waist.

his hands make their way to my waist, nonchalant picking me up into his arms. my legs wrap around his hips, letting me be completely engulfed in his warmth. “i missed you pretty girl.” he whispers into my hair, placing a soft kiss onto my head.

“i missed you more nico.” i pry my head from his chest, looking up into his eyes. his big brown eyes are overtaken my emotions, love fills them, hints of lust lingering in the shadows.

i’d be lying if i said that nico going on roadies doesn’t take a toll on our sex lives. the two of us aren’t much into the whole sexting thing or doing anything over facetime. he’s too paranoid that we’d be caught, or something somehow would get leaked. so, we keep it all for when he comes back home.

and fuck is the wait worth it.

last time i swear i was almost fucked to death. the what seemed like endless rounds of orgasms, liquids littering the bedsheets so much so, that we had to sleep on the couch.

this time, no doubt, will be no different. nico usually taking control and me going along with his demands. what we both like.

i can see the temptation in his eyes now. the way he looks at me, the stare down making me intimidatingly little. his hands cupping my ass to keep me clung to his body, he softly massages each cheek, rolling the flesh in his palms.

my teeth bite down on my bottom lip, nico’s strength picks my body up higher, our eyes looking straight into each others. his face inches ever so closer to mine, hot breath fanning over my face sending a chilled shiver down my spine.

it takes him all of two seconds to close the distance, pressing his lips to mine. his finger nails softly dig into the skin of my ass, causing a silent moan to fall from my mouth, nico taking it as the perfect opportunity to stick his tongue in my mouth.

my hands which were resting along nico’s broad shoulders move their way up his neck, threading my fingers in his hair. nails rubbing his scalp and slowly pulling at his soft brown roots.

i can feel nico’s cocky smile across my lips, the way i play with his hair makes him go wild. from the way my fingers pull at my hair, i receive a playful smack on my ass. the sensitive skin turning bright red with a handprint across the flesh.

he backs his head away from mine, letting us both catch our breaths that our lungs crave. it’s then when nico’s eyes wander down my body, his eyes linger on my perky tits that start to fall out of my dainty bra. hands gripping harsher at the bottom of my exposed ass, “you really know how to dress for me, don’t you baby?” he whispers. “all this for me?”

my bottom lip finds it’s way back between my teeth, biting down on the flush pink skin. a nod of my head answers nico’s previous question, “only you.” i whisper back. my words only add to the proud smile plastered on his face, licking his lips as his dark eyes stay on mine.

my body suddenly drops, a squeal leaving as i crash with the mattress. a chuckle is the only thing i hear from above me, watching as my eyes blow wide with surprise. nico doesn’t make a move towards me, standing above me in almost a degrading way. his stare is cold, but greatly heated with lust, making me feel small in his gaze.

he finally begins to move, calloused pads of his fingers run up my smooth legs, shivers of my skin and little whimpers leave my throat. my jaw clenching at his teasing actions. his eyes follow his fingers, up the surface of my calves to my thighs.

“nico.” a soft whimper leaks from my throat in the sound of his name. “please.” i shyly beg out. the embarrassment of my pleads creep up to my cheeks, rose blush coating my skin.

he lowers himself just above my legs, his hot breath beginning to fan against my thighs. “what baby?” he teases, hovering just above my skin. “you’re gonna have to use words now.”

his hands round around my ankles, holding them loosely as he guides my feet up on the bed, my knees now in the air above. lips pressing a soft kiss on my inner knee, goosebumps form on my skin from the teasingly little contact.

my teeth bite down in a clench, squeezing my jaw to find myself begging once again. a breath shoots through my teeth, my chest rising and falling with deep sighs. “please, touch me nico.” i plead, feeding nico’s desire for me.

“that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he mocks. his large hands grip the sides of my thighs with great force, making me gasp from his sudden change of ways. he lowers himself farther down on the bed, lowering to his knees to get a perfect sight of me above him.

i don’t know why a whimper leaves my mouth, maybe it’s the sight of him looking up at me, like he owns me. or it’s his harsh grip that could leave bruises on my skin marking me as his. “my girls so needy, hm?” nico snaps me out of my own mind. his one hand leaves my thigh before coming back onto it with a forceful slap. i soft gasp mixed with a moan rips through the air, his hands already doing their work to soothing my burning thigh.

“you like that don’t you?” he teases once again. his lips draw down to my inner thigh, pressing a more forceful kiss down on my flesh. “me marking up your body.” nico elaborates. “as all mine.”

curses murmur from my voice, hands flattening by my sides on the mattress, staring to ball the covers into my fists. nico works closer to where my body needs the most attention, sloppy kisses tracing across my skin. i feel myself clench around nothing, needing to be filled by nico.

his hands snake up my legs, stopping at the waistband of my shorts, starting to teasingly pull them off of me. he works slow, keeping his dark brown eyes burning into mine. i suck the inside of my cheek between my teeth, watching as he slides the shorts off of me, keeping my bottom only covered in my soaked panties.

a smirk creeps up on nico’s face, swiping a stripe up my aching slit. “shit baby, so soaked for me already?”

i can only comprehend enough to let out a soft groan in response. he starts to rub tight circles, against my clothed clit, watching me as my chest starts to softly heave. nico presses down harder, my feet stomp down deep into the mattress, toes staring to curl.

my walls continue to clench around nothing, craving for something to fill me up as nico continues his teasingly slow actions. his hot breath fans against my pussy, the sides of his head almost squeezed by my thighs as i force my hips closer to him. a smile crosses his face once again, forcing my hips back down with his large hands, his pressure on my clit disappearing.

“gotta be patient now, pretty girl.” he hooks two fingers on each sides of my panties, pulling them down my smoothed legs to throw them along with my shorts on the floor. the only thing covering my body is my bra, leaving my breasts to almost pool out of them for nico’s eyes. “such a pretty little pussy.” he praises, pressing a soft kiss against my clit.

he adds another one before kitty licking my sensitive bud, tongue swirling around it before venturing back down. his tongue slips into my wet folds, flicking his tongue to hit the spots he knows i like most. my back arches softly off of the mattress, hips bucking up to get more of his long tongue.

nico's hands grip harder at my hips, pressing the bone to force them to stay stuck on the mattress. i force myself to crawl up on my elbows, looking down at nico, watching as he starts to slurp on my pussy. his one hand moves from my hip to my thigh, gripping harsher at my skin, finger tips pressing so hard they start to turn white.

he moves his hand off of my thighs before smacking them back onto my plushy skin. a shocked whimper comes out of my mouth, nico's eyes search mine, looking for anything telling him that it hurt you. but in all honesty, it turns you on even more. the harsh red hand print that he soothes by rolling the flesh in his palm.

nico knows to continue his work with his tongue when you thrust you hips back onto his tongue, needing more of him as he'd once slowed down his actions.

curses mumble out of my mouth, jaw clenching and hips buckling. “oh shit.” my hands move from the balls of covers in them to his hair, combing his long brown hair back before tugging on it softly.

my hips start to move again mindlessly, my insides begging for more than nico is giving me. “you have to be a good girl and stay still now. i want to taste you.” he hums against my pussy, my walls vibrating with the vibration of his voice.

i can feel the familiar buckling of my stomach, a knot tightening so hard I feel like I could break any second. my breaths get shorter and quicker, chest heaving up and down as my fingers tug harder at nico's hair, egging him on further.

he knows that i'm close to finishing, teasing me by slowing down his actions to a painfully gentle pace. my mind goes hazy, mad at nico for teasing me when i'm so close to coming undone, but also praising him for making me feel this way. thighs squeezing his face closer to my begging core.

this time, nico backs away from me completely, looking up at me with a cocky smile. "what did i say?" he asks, his big brown eyes burning holes into mine as i clench my jaw. i'm so close to my orgasm and now nico is wanting to play with me.

all my pride is easily stripped away from me as i find myself pathetically begging once again. "i'll stay still, i promise. i need you.. shit." my breath hitches as i hold onto my orgasm that's almost in my grasp.

nico almost laughs at my embarrassingly pitiful pleads, putting his face where it once was, sliding his tongue into my clenching hole while he places his thumb on my clit. he moves his thumb in quick and tight circles, now determined to make me orgasm above him.

my head rolls back by the refound pleasure, muscles tensing up as moans release from my mouth once again. my eyes screw shut, squeezing them harshly as i can feel my orgasm seconds away. though i don't look at him, i can feel nico's harsh gaze on me, staring determinedly up at me.

i open my mouth more to speak, but noting can come out except for moans and quiet whimpers. nico nods against me, "i know." he whispers against me, with his words i feel myself coming undone. my muscles tightening before completely relaxing, my mind blurry and sight darkened when i finally open my eyes.

he helps me ride my thigh, keeping the same pace before gradually slowing down. he unlatches his mouth from my aching folds, leaving his thumb to draw lazy circles around my clit. my liquids leak down nico's chin, coating the soft stubble that covers his jaw.

crawling back up my body, he places a soft kiss on my breasts that overflow from my bra, before working up to my face. "you did so good baby. taste so good." he whispers in my ear, hot breath fanning my neck.

nico's lips aggressively press onto mine, the faint taste of myself lingering between our heated and passionate kiss. his tongue sliding into my mouth, hands harshly gripping at my hips once again.

#nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier fic #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #hockey player x reader #hockey fic #hockey imagine #puck-bunnies

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months ago

Text

“Don’t worry, Kayla. I got him.”

It’s the first thing that registers in a long time. It’s also the only thing that registers a split second before a hand grips his collar and he is dragged, bodily, out of the infirmary, bumping down the stairs like luggage.

“Is that all I am to you?” Will asks, bereft. “Luggage?”

“You’re losing your mind again,” Nico says. “Intervention time.”

“I am — just fine, thank you kindly! I was in the middle of sorting the medicine cabinet by colour and vibe. Let me go.”

“There’s something wrong with you. Mentally.”

“How rude.”

Nico snorts, but does not relinquish his hold. Will gives up squirming and sighs, allowing himself to be dragged.

It’s kind of nice, he supposes. Nico is careful to avoid most of the rocks and the sky is kind of pretty from this angle. Ideally he’d be, like, walking, but dragged along is alright. It’s better than last time. The whole princess carry thing was humiliating and if someone does that to him again he’s channeling the power of the sun and exploding himself and everyone around him.

“That is not an actual power that you have, William.”

“Shows what you know.”

“I’m gonna start calling you Hiroshima.”

“Go for it. Guess who’ll look like the insane one in that scenario?”

Nico laughs, because he thinks Will is funny, even though he will not admit it. Will knows so because that’s how he bagged the camp’s baddest bitch. Twas most certainly not his swordfighting skills or poetry, that is for certain.

(Not that it had stopped him from trying. Honestly, Nico may have agreed to go out with him for the sole intent of stopping the poetry.)

(But he’s stuck now, so there.)

“Here.” Nico deposits him unceremoniously on the floor. Will lands with an exaggerated oof. “Eat something or I’m stuffing you into an onager and launching you to Mars.” He glances up at the sky. “The planet, not the deity.”

“Figured,” Will wheezes, rubbing his shoulder blades. Why must he always land painfully. Why is he punished merely for existing. “What’s this?”

Nico, refusing to answer verbally, spreads his arms. Will uses his working eyeballs to determine ‘this’ is a soft blanket that is 100% stolen directly from the Aphrodite cabin, spread carefully over the grass of the nicest clearing in the woods. ‘This’ is a picnic basket full of what Will assumes is Twizzlers, if Nico loves him.

“Tis not,” Nico promises. “I brought you vegetables and whole grains and all the other bullshit you harp about me eating, you massive hypocrite.”

‘This’, Will notices, ignoring him, is a folded letter with his name on it and a portable radio playing the nearest country station.

Next time you overwork yourself I’m knocking you unconscious and chaining you to your bed for three days, reads the note. Make better choices, you dickbrain.

“Charming,” Will says. He presses the letter to his chest and pretends to swoon. Nico lets him fall and bang his skull on the ground, but Will internalizes the pain and commits to the bit like a real man. “My very own Romeo, taking care of me so well. Oh, my heart, my heart.”

“You are the most annoying person alive.”

“And yet you’re obsessed with me.”

Nico cracks a smile. “Yes,” he admits. “Not quite sure how that one happened.”

Nico looks at him with dark brown eyes and slightly raised brows and it is charming, genuinely, and Will goes a little pink, admittedly, because his smile is crooked and teasing and there is something handsome and a little tiny bit mean about it and maybe Will likes that. A little. And maybe Nico knows that and snickers and mutters get over here, airhead and tugs him until his head is in his lap and sticks his hands in his tangled hair and yeah, Will likes it a little. A lot.

“You know, you’re kind of an alright person,” Will says.

“That was almost a compliment.”

“Mhm. I might even like you.”

“Shocking.”

Will grins. Nico rolls his eyes and leans down to kiss him, biting the tip of his nose on the way down, and there is a coil in Will’s belly and it feels a little like heat and a little like warmth. A little like someone taking care of him.

“I threatened the camp,” Nico says conversationally. “We have the next three point seventeen hours to ourselves, lest I sacrifice three teenagers to Thanatos.”

“Sensible.”

“I thought so.”

“Anyone told you you’re kinda hot when you’re a little evil?”

“Yeah. I hear it a lot, actually.”

“Good, good. Glad you’re aware.”

They look at each other for one point two seconds and burst out laughing, and it is stupid, and it is quiet, and it is a bubble growing and growing in the pit of Will’s chest.

He breathes. He leans a little farther into Nico’s lap, and smile. He grips their hands together.

It’s kinda nice to be got.

———

based on this drawing by @skysmadness

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holysainz · 2 years ago

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mended bonds - lewis hamilton

pairing: lewis hamilton x rosberg!reader

warnings: brief mention of minor accident

summary: in which brocedes are (secretely) future brother-in-laws

“Ready for the race?”

You look at Lewis Hamilton, your boyfriend, who’s dressed in his fireproofs, a gleaming helmet under his arm. His smile warms your heart but there’s a tension in his eyes, a wariness that’s been growing these past few months.

“Always ready to cheer for you,” you respond, your heart thrumming in your chest.

And it’s true. You, being Nico Rosberg’s sister, have always had a passion for racing. The roaring of the engines, the blistering speeds, the smell of hot rubber, all have been ingrained in you from childhood. But more than anything else, it’s the man standing in front of you that brings you to the paddock now.

“We can’t keep hiding this, you know,” Lewis speaks up suddenly, his warm brown eyes meeting yours.

A shiver courses through you. You have been together secretly for nearly four years now, carefully navigating the tension that exists between Lewis and Nico after their explosive fallout. You knew revealing your relationship would make things even more complex. Still, you sense the truth in Lewis’ words.

“Let’s get through today first,” you propose. This race is critical for him. He doesn’t need more pressure.

His lips press into a thin line but he nods, squeezing your hand gently before he leaves.

—

At the circuit, your heart races with each passing lap. Lewis is performing exceptionally. But then, it happens. Lewis and another car collide, spinning him off the track. Your heart plummets, the world becomes a blur. The spectators gasp, but it’s your brother’s face that you see first. It’s white with fear.

“Is he alright?” Nico asks, gripping your arm. His rivalry with Lewis is known but in this moment, you see their shared history, the times when they were friends and brothers rather than rivals.

“I … I don’t know,” you stutter. A pang of guilt strikes you. You need to tell him.

—

Later, in the hospital, when you finally see Lewis bruised but alive, relief washes over you. You grasp his hand tightly. He manages a weak smile. “Guess I’m out of commission for a while.”

His nonchalance doesn’t fool you. You lean over, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. “I’m just glad you’re still here with me.”

And you know it’s time. No more secrets. You ask Nico to come to the hospital.

—

Nico looks confused when he enters but when he sees Lewis’ hand in yours, his eyes widen in shock.

“Nico … Lewis and I … we’re together. For a while now,” you blurt out.

Nico’s surprise fades into something you can’t decipher. He steps back, running a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because we didn’t want to complicate things further,” you reply, hoping he would understand.

“It’s already complicated!” Nico snaps. “Do you know what people will say? It’ll be a media circus!”

“We don’t care,” Lewis intervenes. “We’re not living our lives for the media or anyone else. It’s our decision.”

Nico glares at him but his anger melts into resignation. He sighs heavily, “You’re right … it’s not my place. I wish you’d trusted me enough to tell me sooner, though.”

“I was scared, Nico. I — we — didn’t want to lose you,” you admit.

He gives you a sad smile, “You won’t lose me, sis. And you,” he turns to Lewis, “You better take care of her.”

—

In the following days, you and Lewis brace yourselves for the media storm. It’s intense, just as Nico predicted, but together you weather it.

You and Lewis continue to support each other. And slowly, Nico and Lewis start rebuilding their strained friendship, understanding that the rivalry on the tracks should not destroy the bond off it.

Love, you learn, does not have to be a secret to be precious. It’s in the shared smiles, the quiet moments together, the support when times are tough. And now that it’s out in the open, you realize that your relationship with Lewis, far from being a point of contention, has become a bridge between two estranged friends.

And in that, you find your happiness. Not just in love but in the reconciliation it has brought and the bonds of brotherhood it has mended. Because at the end of the day, it’s not just the thrill of the race that matters but the people who ride alongside us in life and in love.

—

taglist: @musingsbyshreya

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deanbrainrotwritings · 8 months ago

Text

— HEARTBEATS AND FLATLINES

SUMMARY : dean was so focused on you he’d blocked everything that was going on in the background of his life as it were white noise. he didn’t realise how much that put you in danger until you went out of your date.

PAIRING : vampire!dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : Clayton (OMC)

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), baker!dean, kidnapping, stalking (it’s only hot if dean does it), angst, unhealthy obsession, yandere!Dean, possessiveness, soft Dean, nerdy/dorky Dean returns, reader isn’t perfect, vague chronic illness, affection, obliviousness, violence, gore?, drugging, and more to come

WORD COUNT : 6.8k

A/N : this will soon fill the square for stockholm syndrome on my @jacklesversebingo card. lmao, it’s like venom/eddie with anne when she got engaged. I listened to MCR's bullets album for the maximum vampire vibes xx

Dean was restless on the days leading up to your date with Clayton.

He tried not to make it too obvious, his deep disappointment and displeasure with your choice. Well, to him it felt more like heartbreak, an emotion more painful than any of those words could convey.

He didn’t ever want to avoid you. He didn’t want to push you away by saying something rude about Clayton or doing something that would end up hurting you. He wanted to be near you, always. So he planned ways to avoid the topic instead, but you were entirely indifferent about Clayton and your date with him. He had no idea if you really actually liked the guy, or if you were nervous, or if you thought of him often.

Dean couldn’t pick up anything from you. Maybe your cheeks heated up a little and your heart raced if you spoke of him, sometimes. But it was almost instantly gone after a few moments, like you just needed to find a baseline. It was not the way a regular person would behave if they ever were attracted to someone in any way.

He was still a little rattled. Because you hadn’t changed. You still became flustered if he was kind to you. You always spoke to him, spent most of your time with him. It was why he got whiplash from the news of your date.

Wouldn’t you, now that you considered him a friend, tell him all about Clayton? What would be your reason not to? Why didn’t you gush about the man any chance you had? Why wouldn’t you bring Clayton to the bakery when you came by? Why wasn’t your social media flooded with a few or many posts about him? Why wasn’t it obvious or at least detectable that you liked Clayton?

“Can you believe it?” It was the old guy, Nico, talking to his son Anthony. “Your aunt’s house costs $320 000, I can tell you it’s not what it cost when she bought it.”

Dean slowly tugged his consciousness out of his reeling head. He focused on the sweet chocolate batter he was whisking at angrily and relaxed his wrist to slowly stop.

“Do you think he’d be into a single mom? Look at him, he’s so pretty and young.” That was Tamara Stewart. You didn’t like her. So, the answer was no. He was petty like that.

He picked up the crinkly bag of chocolate chips and dumped a handful into the batter. He tried to distract himself from his devouring thoughts by eavesdropping in on the dozens of conversations his customers were having.

“But Jon sucks, we’re playing ranked and he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

Dean gently mixed the chocolate chips with the batter, getting lost in their conversations until he’d flattened the top of the batter and scraped the surrounding area of chocolate until the bowl was clean at the top.

“Nine murders already, Frank.”

Dean froze and looked up, watching brown eyes sweep over a bright phone screen. He could hear both heart rates rising in fear, their bodies tense as they shared the news.

“What’s the police doing about it?”

George continued to scroll through his phone, his brows pressed together in stress and said: “No idea, doesn’t say much.”

Dean quickly took the glass mixing bowl to quickly pour the batter into the prepared muffin pan. His ears found their point of interest, the conversation between Frank and George. Still, Dean pretended to deeply concentrate on baking and walked to the back to shove the pan inside the oven and remove the croissants and sweet scones he’d made.

“I swear, this is fucking weird.” Frank rubbed his forehead anxiously. “They said it themselves on the first three murders, there wasn’t any blood at the scene. What the hell kind of animal does that? Sounds like a person to me. Probably dumped the body there, killed it somewhere else.”

Oh, Frank. You don’t know the half of it.

The following day, Dean was feeling unpleasantly wound up.

He was hurt over your date with Clayton.

And now, he was concerned for your safety as the day of your date came closer. You lived all alone in the woods. And there were vampires in town murdering people carelessly, as if they had no fear of getting caught. A beautiful and lovely woman was what you were to him, but to them, you were just a meal.

It didn’t just put you in danger. It put him in danger. Those vamps could easily move on, but a hunter could still follow. What hunter came by could find him, think the worst with the pile of incriminating evidence, and kill him. Or worse, Dean would have to kill the hunter out of self-preservation.

He moved the murders to the top of his list of priorities because it still was all about you. Keeping you safe was all he could think of. It was like working a case again. Except it was easier because he was local, people knew him, trusted him, and liked him. What was harder was doing it alone, no Sam, no Cas.

As always, Dean could count on flirting to get information out of police and detectives. A smile here and touch there proved that he still had it. Except this time, there wasn’t much he was interested in receiving because his entire body belonged to you.

But at least he got a few photos of their files with his phone. It was easy enough to narrow down which monster was doing the killings. Vampires hardly ever changed their habits. But these vamps weren’t sloppy. They fed somewhere else and dumped the bodies randomly in the forest. They probably had different vamps from the nest dispose of the bodies so the locations were skewed and appeared random, but always deep in the forests.

The victims were random. Three were dressed in running clothes, two wore work clothes, but the other four were dressed casually—killed on a day off or while they were out for fun. There was nothing they had in common, they probably bumped into the vamps, wrong-place-wrong-time type of deal.

Their clothes were dirty, bloodied, tattered. They had bruises and cuts, but nothing that pointed to something that had human form. And to hide the vampire bite, the necks of the victims were completely torn by teeth. It was lazy work from the police, in Dean’s opinion, to blame mountain lions. Anyone with a brain would wonder how those people ended up in the forest to be attacked in the first place.

Still, Dean had to find them and put an end to their nest. He wouldn’t stop you from going on your date, even though he’d previously planned on messing with your car so you wouldn’t get there… He hoped you’d be safer with… Clayton, and hoped that whenever he took you, you wouldn’t be left alone to end up as prey to the vampires.

All he had to do now was find the exact location of the nest and put an end to the vampires’ murder spree.

SATURDAY — morning

You seemed a little more nervous than you were any other day when you entered his bakery.

You asked him for some tea with honey, and he’d gladly obliged with a nice cup of chamomile tea that warmed your entire body in seconds.

Dean, despite wanting nothing to do with what will happen on your date, wanted to comfort you. He sat down next to you, something he hardly did, and wrapped his cold hand around yours. You seemed a little surprised by his proximity, but you didn’t appear displeased. Instead, you turned your body towards him and smiled contently.

“I’m not exactly an expert in love, but shouldn’t you be… you know… a little more excited?” He asked, feeling elated that you placed your warm hand above his despite the way his touch made you shiver. You looked into his eyes curiously, tenderly brushing fingertips across his knuckles as you pondered his question with a fiery heat across your cheeks.

“I sort of am,” you replied measuredly. He was glad he couldn’t physically cry because he would have been sobbing pathetically as a strange little ache settled in his chest. “I’m just trying to take it slow.” You tapped your shoe against his thoughtfully and he turned to touch his leg with yours, a harrowing need to be close to you overpowering any respect for your personal space.

You instantly snapped out of your train of thought when he did, but your body completely decompressed as your eyes moved up to his face. He felt like you were seeing too much of him.

“Slow?” He chuckled incredulously. His tone made you smile, but your brow raised, inquiring about his humour. “I think you might be takin’ it :0so slow you’re leaving your emotions behind a little. Most people would’ve been talking about their partner-to-be any chance they got.” The more he spoke, the hotter your face got. At least you finally looked away, appearing somewhat guilty. He slowly pulled his hand away from yours as your heat turned his want into need. “I guess I’m just wondering why you’re so nervous. You… like… the guy, you shouldn’t be this nervous,” he muttered.

He was glad you didn’t think much about the discontented tone of his voice, but you thought again for a few minutes after considering his words. “I’m… always watching people. I don’t need stuff to happen to me to learn something about life. For one, I’ve seen people falling hard and fast for someone... then it all falls apart, they're stupefied by the other person…” You breathed and ended your ramble. “Basically, I’m just trying to be smart and rational, so that I don’t end up in a bad situation.”

Dean blinked at you.

Suddenly, everything that you were seemed to make sense. It dawned on him that you weren’t trying to be mysterious at all. You were just… calculating, and you applied that same logic to everything in your life. You always took long pauses to think before you spoke, you reacted slowly to his advances to contemplate him and then you made your move—depending on what you thought was appropriate, like a game. You were quiet because you were always observing others, learning from them, and then applying what you learned—to be accepted. You kept people at a distance out of fear and he knew more about that than anyone.

“I don’t think there’s anything rational about love.” He knew that better than anyone, too. Why was he standing so close to you now? Knowing you could feel his unusually heatless body. Why did he stick around knowing he’d stolen your things and photographed items in your home? Why when you could easily find out that he was stalking you? That he’d broken into your home. That he longed for you and stayed by your side even though you didn’t and probably never would.

“That’s exactly why I’m trying to control it as much as I can. To have something seize me that way, to make me feel like I’m losing control of myself. I don’t think I can handle that kind of thing-”

“So that’s what it’s about? Staying in control?” He wanted to laugh. You and him were more alike than he thought. Not only did he have to restrain himself with his hunger for blood, but he had to wrest his desire to keep you all to himself.

“Well, I think I’ve been through enough that it makes sense for me to be… controlling,” you argued indignantly. Your pout made him laugh, and his laugh made you smile. Then, you sobered. “I had no control over a lot of things in my childhood, even as I grew older. Even my illness dictated how I lived my life. There’s a lot of things. Abusive friends. My father. I was powerless most of my life. So yeah, I… I guess I’m just afraid to feel that way again. And love, romance, that’s even worse.”

Dean wondered with hope if you were trying to control yourself around him; if your date with Clayton was your way of controlling the way you really felt; if you felt so afraid about how strongly you might want or even need him, and forewished that it might be as much as he needed you.

Dean reached out to grab your chin and made you look up at him again. You bit your lip and lifted your eyes from his shoulder to look at the greenness of his. He could already sense the blood rising to your face and your hand gently wrapped around his wrist, but you didn’t push him away.

“When you find the right person, you won’t be afraid to lose yourself. Trust me.” Dean’s stomach somersaulted when your eyes dropped down to his lips and you licked your own. You pushed his hand away to wrap your arms around his neck, and he welcomed your first embrace. He could feel your warm breath by his ear, feel the heat of your body like the surface of the sun kissing his own when he circled his arms around your waist, and your heart thudded heavily, echoing against his empty chest.

SATURDAY — evening

The sun had set, swallowed by the horizon, pushed back by dark-blueness, leaving the moon behind in tall green trees.

Damp dirt crunched beneath his once-retired boots. The scent of wet earth and rotten wood from the abandoned house the nest was vacating filled him with painful, nostalgic memories. He could smell human blood and salty sweat, he could hear quiet whimpers and panicked breathing. New victims. He focused on that instead.

He knew that facing the nest after the sun had set meant they were all going to be more awake. He could’ve missed work to do it during the day, but then it meant he wouldn’t have seen you. And he would not have been able to be so close to you, to fill his lungs with the delectable scent of everything that was you, to feel the sunniness of your body pressed against yours when you held him in your arms.

He’d cherish that forever, if it was all you could give him. You wouldn’t ever know, but if you never chose him, he’d hide in the shadows of your life and do absolutely anything for you. Always.

Dean’s fingers twitched at the back door he was about to enter. Was he really just going to burst in there without getting a proper look inside? He cautiously made his way around the house to catch glimpses of the inside of the dark and ruined house.

He counted the vampires downstairs, four women, two men, and the victims, two men. He couldn’t sense much from the second floor of the house, but he had to make do and act before they could kill the men. Dean could hear one of them, his weakened heartbeat, shallow breaths, not much energy left. The other must have been freshly caught… what a morbid way of putting it.

He internally hyped himself up, swung his machete in his hand—like riding a bike. Hopefully. The sharpened edge of the machete was coated in a sticky layer of dead man’s blood, which intoxicated him slightly, but it had to be done.

Now, he entered.

He was greeted with hisses and bared fangs, and was thrown into decrepit walls and shoddy furniture. He was punched and clawed at, tackled and dragged across sodden and grimey floorboards. He was even bitten pointlessly by them. His skin healed and he stood back up and slashed his way through the modest, abandoned building. His freckled face, grey t-shirt, and old blue flannel spattered with blood. His jeans were covered in mud, old rain, and spilled vampire blood.

His body thrummed and he felt alive. All those sensations against his skin were magnified and spectacular. He felt almost as alive as you made him feel. Saving people. Hunting things. It was like revisiting an old friend and going over fond memories. The family business, emphasis on the family.

He’d tried so hard to get out. He did get out. But going back in was like relapsing, going back to a habit that he had always known was bad for him, deep down.

Finished with the vampires downstairs, Dean hastily untied the men and ordered the more-lucid one to run and not stop until he was safe with the much weaker man. The man, Blue Shirt, had no idea what to think, didn’t argue and struggled to speed up as he carried Yellow Shirt out of the hell hole they had almost died in.

Dean jogged upstairs and stopped at the woman who smirked at him. As if they knew each other, as if she had been expecting him. Uh-oh? Then two other vampires appeared behind her, bigger than the ones he’d killed downstairs, retracting their fangs with menace.

“You don’t think we’d all just be waiting here… did you, Dean?”

“What?” He voiced his bewildered thoughts.

She took the opportunity to knock the machete out of his hand, as he assessed the two other vampires and attempted to absorb her words. She grabbed him by his neck to smile sweetly, only to smash his face into the window, and effortlessly threw him to—Yogi and Boo Boo. Dean smirked at them as they held him up, because the other guy was short, Boo Boo. That really eased the dull pain in his face.

Now, he faced her again and she traced his jawline with her cold fingers. At that moment, as he sized her up, he decided she looked like Selene from Underworld.

“The rest of the nest is out watching that pretty lady you’re obsessed with…” Dean’s face fell, enough to amuse Selene far more than she already was. “What’s her name…? Whatever, good… taste…” She smirked and leaned into Dean, enough for him to feel the dull air of her breath.

“No,” he grunted, struggling against Yogi and Boo Boo as thoughts of you filled his mind. Thoughts of you going up against horrifying monsters you were not aware of and that you were not prepared to face. Why you? Why would they do that to you?

“Yes, she’ll probably be as sweet as all that food you feed her.” Selene moved away to look out the shattered window, thoughtfully. “Does she smell good? God, I wouldn’t be able to stand as close to her as you love to be. I’d eat her right up, feel her body go limp as I swallow her warm blood… yummy.”

Yogi and Boo Boo laughed cruelly, the grins on their faces that Dean peeked at showed their agreement with her words.

“Shut up,” Dean growled. “Why are you going after her? What do you want with her?” It didn’t make sense for them to go after you. You were everything to him, but to them, you were nobody. Just a human. Unless it was about him. God, why did he have to piss so many monsters off?

Instead of responding to his question, she changed the subject and asked: “Alia saw you hunt coyotes and bobcats? What’s that like?”

Dean did not want to waste time talking about his diet if your life was in danger. It was a rash move to lunge at her, but his mouth connected with her neck and his fangs retracted on instinct, piercing hard flesh and disgusting blood that he sucked until she fell.

He struggled against Yogi and Boo Boo’s grip, and was eventually torn off of her by them. Not without taking a chunk of her neck, which he spit out along with the blood he’d sucked from her already-dead body. He fought harder this time, for you and managed to get Yogi tangled up in Boo Boo when he shoved them into each other to swipe his machete from the floor as Selene recovered.

He was grabbed roughly by Yogi or Boo Boo when they’d scrambled back up, but he kept his grip on the machete as he hit the wall one of them had pushed him into. He groaned as he turned, swung the machete, and Yogi’s head thumped loudly on the ground, a spray of his blood covered Dean, Boo Boo, and the wall.

Selene kicked the back of his knee so he fell to the floor with a loud crack, and he was kneed in the face by fucking Boo Boo, then tackled into him by Selene. God, will it end?

Dean scrambled to get back up and removed her from his body by slamming himself with her on her back into the wall. Her breath rushed out as her body hit the wall painfully loud. Dean had barely managed to stand up straight when Boo Boo began to charge at him. Dean used Boo Boo’s brute strength to knock him into Selene before she could get up properly.

Dean picked up his weapon again and drove the sharp edge across the back of Boo Boo’s head so he could see his brain slice through the middle with the partially diagonal slice from his machete. Dean kicked part of Boo Boo’s head away as Selene shoved his body off her. She stayed down and sighed defeatedly while glaring up at Dean.

"It has come to this, the hunted, becoming the hunters to the hunted."(1) Dean quoted smugly, swinging the machete in his hand smoothly.

“What?” She spat, wiping Boo Boo’s blood from her face.

“Seriously? All this time on your hands and you don’t pick up a fucking vampire movie?” Dean rolled his eyes at her unwavering glare and sighed, squeezing his fist around the handle of the machete. “Can’t say this was nice, but, uh—it kinda was, actually. Huh.”

Dean wiped his face with his flannel as he tore through the road on his way to you. Thank fuck you’d let him know where you’d have your date, even though his intentions weren’t exactly pure. If he hadn’t had to go after the nest, he probably would have sat nearby to hear everything you had to say. Maybe he’d even planned to interrupt your date and stir up some jealousy and.. but perhaps it was good the universe prevented that from happening.

The only problem was that you were in danger. He had no idea what he would say to you once he stood before you at that restaurant-brewery where they made your favourite burgers. What could he say without sounding batshit crazy? Without frightening you to the point of making you want to be far away from him—forever?

That didn’t matter. If you didn’t listen, he'd have to force you, for once, into listening to him so you wouldn’t be in danger. So you wouldn’t die. You were human. You were all he had and even though your life was fleeting, he wanted to make sure you got to live a fulfilling life. With or without him. That’s all that mattered. He’d risk it all for you, in this life or death moment.

Finally, he realised he was close to the bar and parked nearby, in the darkened back alley where there was a woman smoking at the first door, a cat with its head buried in a bucket of popcorn at the garbage, and a homeless man covered in ragged blankets near the end of the alley.

Dean didn’t bother with looking around for much longer. The vampires wouldn’t be going in after him, unless they were stupid. He just needed to go in and get you out, by his side where you were safer. With someone who could protect you against the horrors of the night. And not Clayton, the kind, safe, and boring mechanic that everyone knew and trusted because he wouldn’t charge extra, or lie, or… who was Dean kidding? Clayton was perfect for you.

Dean broke the door’s handle and pushed his way through people and the cooks, and the man cleaning. He was glared at, but ignored for the most part as he made his way to the front. As per usual, Dean could find you without looking. He could sense you, the way your heart would beat, the brush of your hands across your skin, and the delicious taste of your body. You stood out like the sun in the sky.

He found you in a beautiful deep red blouse that made you the centre of the entire bar. Without even intending on it. You were so delicate and beautiful, he had to save you. He couldn’t imagine the large cavity the lack of your existence would create, he always wanted to breathe your air and feel your heat and hear your sweet voice. Even if you didn’t belong to him.

But soon, it was all smothered by Clayton. Dean could smell the remnants of engine fuel and cologne. Clayton with his blond hair and blue eyes and… ugh. It could be Dean beside you.

It was as if you could feel him. You shivered and your eyes drifted away from Clayton as he spoke enthusiastically about his nephew. Your soft eyes met Dean’s and you looked surprised, then happy, and finally concerned in an instant. Had Dean not experienced time the way he did, he would not have noticed the rapid change in your expression.

You sat up straight and Clayton finally shut up to look where you were looking. Dean forced his legs to keep moving, fighting against the tar that was created by his endless amazement at your perfect existence. He’d fight gravity to get closer to you, defying every law to protect you, like the Moon and the Earth. He was meant to be next to you.

“Dean? Wha-what are you… doing here? Wh-what happened? You’re covered in… blood…” You stepped around the table as you questioned him, with a clean napkin clenched in your fretful fingers to find the source of the blood. You wiped away uselessly, before realising it wasn’t his.

“I’m sorry, I can’t explain right now, but you’re in danger,” he whispered, wrapping his hand around your arm. He pulled you closer and you allowed him to as he scanned the room for any one suspicious or… undead. There was no one.

“What are you talking about?” You touched his bicep, his eyes moved back to yours, and his face softened. Your touch felt like warm life being poured back into the empty vessel that was his body.

“I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault,” he whispered. The unease and fear that shone through your eyes made his stomach clench.

“How? Dean, talk to me,” you attempted to regain his attention by tugging on the hem of his shirt—where he was clean of blood. Instead of replying to you, Dean pulled you closer and began dragging you to where he had entered.

“I just need to get you somewhere safe,” he explained, dragging your willing body into the back of the brewery and out into the alley.

He heard you call his name multiple times, your hard-to-answer questions, and the apprehension in your tone. He slowed down only because he didn’t want to hurt your arm or cause you to trip and fall. Soon you fell into step with him and stopped bombarding him with questions as you looked around tensely.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Clayton called after you and Dean, he had your jacket and purse. Dean noticed and you stopped moving, and then you stepped away from Dean. He knew you were considering returning to Clayton as he walked closer, but you stopped a foot away from Dean.

Clayton’s blue eyes, like a clear sky free of pollution, were filled with trepidation. He eyed Dean suspiciously and looked over to you. You were completely relaxed despite the terrifying, bloody state Dean was in and you were standing awfully close, trusting him despite the disorientation.

“What’s going on here?” Clayton asked, but still returned your items to you. You couldn’t answer because you didn’t know how to. All Dean knew was that you hadn’t shoved him off you because of the urgency in his words, the stress knotting up his muscles, and the pleas in his Spring eyes. Why? Why would you just follow him anywhere without hesitation?

“Clayton, stay inside, this… is between me and her,” Dean warned, taking your hand rather than your arm. He could see the impala about a metre away. You didn’t smile when you turned to Clayton, you were still perplexed by Dean’s pressing behaviour, his determination in getting you out, and his insistence left no room for debate.

Clayton appeared baffled and disappointed. He didn’t say anything, but Dean knew the judgement in his eyes as they stared at each other, the audacity is what his blue eyes were telling him.

You squeezed Dean’s hand unintentionally. You didn’t know how to explain yourself to Clayton, but Dean saw the apology in the melted sugar of your eyes, and the deep frown of your oil-tinted lips spoke volumes. Your face told too much. Dean loved you.

“It’s fine! I’ll… I’m sorry, I’ll call you later,” you promised, moving forward to squeeze Clayton’s arm which was covered by a white long sleeve.

Watching it, while holding your hand, felt like he’d been thrown into a wall all over again. Breath knocked out, fury and jealousy boiled over him like lava. Dean tugged you away, but you didn’t complain. And you obviously didn’t notice what Dean had, Clayton’s gentleman-ly hand almost lifting to caress your cheek or move away that perfect strand of hair that curled perfectly around your face.

“Are you sure?” He asked, moving his own long and blond hair away from his face as a biting breeze rolled over him. He ignored Dean completely.

Part of Dean’s brain thought back to Sam, reminded of that kindness and the goodness in his brother shining through Clayton’s face. It didn't make Dean want to whine and throw you over his shoulder any less. He’d do it to get you out, but you would not approve of that. That’s the only reason he didn’t do it.

Maybe you nodded to Clayton, he wasn’t sure because he was examining a group walking towards you. His urgency returned when the five people approached the three of you and Dean sensed the lack of heat and sound from their bodies. Dean spoke lowly to you: “please, we gotta go now, sweetheart.”

“Okay, Dean,” you conceded, but your tone sounded an awful lot like you believed he was having a mental breakdown, and you were just playing along until you got him some proper help.

Dean stepped backwards with your hand in his and muttered a curse under his breath. He wished Clayton had just left you alone, but Dean knew it was too late to get you away.

Clayton glanced back at the group coming closer and started to say: “I’ll be-”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Dean Winchester and his prize pet. You weren’t going to leave without introducing us, were you?” The only woman of the group sneered. Was this Alia? Dean forced you behind him. He felt your hands gripping the back of his shirt and your face’s heat beside his bicep when you attempted to peek over his body.

Clayton saw the way Dean gazed alarmingly at the woman and her group, and stumbled away to stand beside Dean. Dean could hear the rise in his heartbeat and feel the anxious heat that radiated from him. Those vampires could definitely smell the fear on him.

“Pet?” You murmured to yourself with a pout.

“What do you want?” Dean’s go-to was to find humour in any situation like this one, but he couldn’t focus on distracting the group of vampires since your heartbeat began to rise and your hand clenched his shirt tighter.

“Straight to the point then, yeah?” She asked, chuckling and eyeing you behind him, then looked at Clayton with indifference. “You killed a lot of people, Dean—” He felt your grip loosen up on his shirt and your breath puffed against his arm. “—You didn’t think we’d just forget about all of it and let you get away with it, did you?”

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Dean asserted. He scoffed, his lip twitched into a smirk on instinct and she glared at him. “I don’t even know you.”

“Of course not,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “Remember Boris? We were part of his nest. Robert recruited us. You killed him, too, remember?” Dean held her gaze. Why would he feel guilty about killing vampires? “Because of you, we almost couldn’t survive. After you left, more hunters came. Those of us who made it out, those of us who survived you, they were hunted and killed. And then we had to learn to survive on our own.” She stepped closer and Dean backed up into you, your warm hands pressed into his back. “It was hard… I created my own family. And here we are. Here you are.”

She looked at you, peeked over his body where you were hiding. Alia—Dean was pretty sure she who Selene was talking about—seemed to consider her next move before speaking. “You killed them, didn’t you? Did you really think you could just move on with your life like nothing ever happened? And come here to continue killing?” Dean narrowed his eyes at her and her deep brown eyes glared at him, a smirk grew on her red lips.

Dean needed to get back to the impala, to get the dead man’s blood, to pick up a weapon he could use to fight them off. You’d also be safe inside the Impala. He’d even tell you to go far away, to keep yourself alive until he could find you again.

Clayton moved beside Dean, looking up into his blood smeared face, slightly shaken. “Is it true? Are you the one killing these people?”

“What?” Dean snapped out of his head, looking at Clayton. You whispered Dean’s name, as a question. “The police said they were animal attacks.” Dean didn’t care about what Clayton thought, but what you thought about him definitely mattered. He also knew it didn’t look very good for him to be covered in blood.

“Okay, then who’s blood are you covered in?” Your voice shook as you asked. Dean sneaked a glance at Alia and her friends. The cruel sneer on her face made it clear to him that she’d intended on pinning the deaths on him—she wanted you to think that.

He couldn’t explain himself to you. Vampires. Monsters. Why would you believe any of that? You’d just think he’s batshit crazy. You’d be afraid of him.

“You need to get in my car and stay inside,” he ordered, turning you with his hands firmly on your shoulder. Your mouth opened, ready to argue, and your wide eyes searched his face with hope and fear. Two of the most painful things he’d ever seen piercing the dead heart he thought could feel nothing.

“Don’t touch her,” Clayton warned, pressing his hand into Dean’s shoulder. Dean growled and shoved him away.

“Dean! Stop!” You shouted, watching helplessly as Clayton stumbled to the ground. Alia laughed carelessly. “Dean, what the hell is going on?” You asked, ignoring everything that was going on around you to gaze into Dean’s eyes. Your firm tone shook Dean, you usually spoke to him so gently and bashfully.

“Tell her, Dean,” Alia was suddenly closer, “tell her what you are.”

“No,” Dean barked at Alia and pulled out the knife he had in his jeans dipped in dead man’s blood and plunged it into her chest while she was busy gloating. You gasped and covered your mouth, stumbling away from Dean and the group of men that suddenly began advancing with menacing snarls.

Alia pulled the knife out of her chest with a scoff and a glare in Dean’s direction. “Dead man’s blood,” she spat.

“Leave her out of this, she doesn’t know anything,” Dean pleaded uselessly. Still, he placed himself in front of you, hoping to get closer to the impala now that his only weapon was in Alia’s hands.

“You have nothing left, Dean. You’re all alone. Killing her is the only way I can really deal damage to you.” She lunged forward and slashed the knife across his stomach before he could dodge it properly. Maybe he was a little rusty.

“Dean!” You cried, instantly moving to his side to touch the sliced skin of his abdomen, but it was healing instantly. He turned to you as he hissed and you backed away from him, thrown by the way he snarled at Alia with his fangs bared.

Alia turned weak and fell to her knees. The five men around her hesitated, looking from Alia to Dean. But Dean didn't have the luxury to demur, so he turned around and grabbed you to push you towards the Impala.

He didn’t care anymore. You’d seen Alia survive a stab to the heart. You saw his wound heal. You saw his… teeth. His monstrous face. And you were too shocked to move. You just blinked and stared at Dean as he unlocked the Impala to inhumanly retrieve his machete from the passenger seat.

“Leave him, Ray, it’s her he cares about,” Alia rasped weakly. Dean turned to see the youngest of the group ready to lunge as Clayton stood, trying to wipe blood away from his palms.

Dean turned back to you and gave you a small shake. You blinked at him and tensed when you focused on him. “Get. In.” He demanded, placing the keys in your palm.

It actually turned out better than he thought.

Sure, his clothes were torn up from bites and the knife they were attempting to use between the five of them, but Dean knew he could take the five of them. He could’ve done it as a human. He could definitely do it as a vampire.

He was covered in more blood than before. His hair was sticky with it and so was his skin, spattered and smeared all over his face.

Disposing of five bodies was harder to do than he was used to. Usually, he’d have killed them out in those creepy lairs miles away from people where he could burn them to ash. He had Sam to help. This time, he’d have to leave them in garbage bags, in the large roll off containers from the restaurant. People turned the other way when they saw them fighting, probably assuming it was a regular old, drunken fist fight.

He’d go back for the bodies once he got you and Clayton out of there. At some point, one of the vampires knocked him out cold. So Clayton was asleep in the backseat and you were still shaking in the passenger seat, staring dead ahead.

This was so not how he pictured things going with you. Now, you were traumatised. You were probably scared of him, even if he’d saved you. He couldn’t blame you. He was a vampire and you’d just witnessed him easily slaughter five people. Only someone with experience in killing could manage winning a fight when they were outnumbered.

After dropping Clayton unceremoniously into his couch, Dean ran back to the Impala and drove you to his place. He was surprised you’d allowed him to carry you all the way into his living room. And that you didn’t complain about him taking you to his home instead of yours.

He hung your jacket and purse on the hooks beside the door and worriedly sat on his knees in front of you. He whispered your name and you lifted your eyes to his. You bit your lip. “Are you afraid of me?”

You shook your head, and murmured, “I’m just… confused and… I don’t know…”

“I’m here… do you wanna get cleaned up?” Dean took your hands cautiously, brushing his thumbs over your soft skin, over your knuckles. You shook your head, ‘no’. “Want to sleep?” You shook your head again, more vehemently. He smiled softly, a touch of sadness pooling in his stomach. “Is there anything you need? Anything I can get you or do for you?”

“Dean,” your voice was a little hoarse. He hummed softly. “What the hell… just happened? I mean… how… wh- I can’t believe that…” You trailed off, falling back into the couch exhaustedly, and stared up at the ceiling as you attempted to wrap your head around what occurred.

“I’m gonna make you some tea so you can calm down, and then we can talk.” Dean released your hands as he moved away from you. Your soft voice calling his name stopped him before he could turn away from you.

“Will you tell me the truth?”

“Always.”

(1) Underworld: Endless War

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