#i have so many thoughts about this ive had it as an idea for months

[seri-tonin]

One of these days I'll make an animatic of dazai and oda to the old gospel choir, mark my words

[mbat]

realized i never posted this from october lol

[actual-corpse]

I played Skyrim today.

[bkgexe]

if all else fails, i was myself

bakugou x reader ✾ 4.6k

info! no smut sorry gang ✾ tw! trust issues that manifest as issues w physical intimacy/contact, dubcon in its vaguest definition (NOT bkg & reader) ✾ notes! ive been in perpetual writers block for months. is this trite idk. i miss my baby but anytime i write for him im like oops this is gonna be 60k words!!! so here is. a drabble lmao. also big lmao moment this is titled after count me out by kendrick lamar ldskfjdlkjf which was on repeat while writing so uh sorry mr. lamar abt the mha fanfic

katsuki has always known that part of him is wrong.

he’s never liked being touched. every kiss he’s experienced has made him tense as an elevator cable poised to snap. any attempt to go further than that has made him a little ill, made his gut feel like a stack of loose papers being torn to shreds, slow and loud.

it doesn’t help that he’s only ever had three kisses in his life: eijirou at a new year’s party (too many teeth), eijirou again at another new year’s party nearly a decade later (too much tongue), and then his fourth date with kyoka (when he tried to convince himself he just had to push through the discomfort to become normal).

things went further than that. it was a mistake. they both knew it right after it happened—kyoka first, and then katsuki after his head stopped pounding with what if i'm doing this wrong what if she's pitying me for fucking this up what if i don't know how to touch another person correctly what if i was supposed to learn at some point and i missed it how could i fucking miss it will it always be like this because i can't do this again i can't i don't—

“kat," she said after. she looked at him with something only a few degrees removed from pity, and poorly removed at that.

he attempted a halting non-apology. he attempted a real apology. failed at both.

"it's okay, you know," she said. "to not like it."

he scoffed even though he wasn’t entirely clear on what she meant by it, because there was so much he didn’t like. “i like it just fine.”

“if that was liking it, I’m honestly worried about your capacity for enjoying life in general.” it wasn’t a joke. her bluntness was something that'd made katsuki think he could push his boundaries with her. all of her thoughts were laid out plain for him to read, an open-source journal. “i'm just saying you don't have to like it. and you don’t have to force yourself to do things you don’t want to do. don't fuck yourself over for someone else's happiness.”

kyoka still texts him often, checks in, invites him to drinks with their friends. she’s kind. she’s normal. she doesn’t have this weird, shredded thing inside her that makes her balk at the idea of someone’s hand on her skin. that makes her think she's doing something wrong, even if she's not the one that initiated the touch.

when you started your job at the front desk of katsuki’s agency, he never thought that he'd be here, wishing above everything that he could just be normal. just for one fucking day, so he could laugh at your shitty jokes and maybe brush his knuckles across the back of your hand in passing and take you on a date where he could kiss you in his car after driving you home and the thought wouldn’t make his skin crawl, wouldn't tear up his insides to pulp.

because he fucked everything up. he's standing in his empty office where you'd been spending time with him and he fucked it up and hurt you and he's not sure how to unfuck it.

the thing is, he could grin and bear it. he could deal with the odd thing inside him that hates the contact and white-knuckle it through every kiss, every caress. but he’s never been a great actor. he wouldn’t be able to hide that from you.

(kyoka told him, years later, that it’s not that the sex itself wasn’t fine—what made it nearly unbearable for her was the fact that she could tell, only after it was too late, that being physically vulnerable with her pained him far more than he was willing to reveal.)

no one wants to feel like the person they’re with is grinning and bearing it. that they’re white-knuckling it through. katsuki knows this. he knows he’s basically a fucking virgin all but in title at thirty and that he’s got the personality of a dried-out fig you find in your fridge weeks after its last edible moments. he doesn't have much to offer.

but he walked into work one day and nodded at you, curt, a grimace on his face—and you smiled at him so kindly that his stomach twisted.

with you, it wasn't the feeling of something being torn apart. it was different, lighter. leaves wrenched into the sky by a strong breeze. still a kind of tearing, but different—less destructive.

he was wearing a deep carmine sweater his mom sent him in one of her bi-monthly care packages (as if he’s not an adult, and a pro-hero on top of that), and you said, “that’s such a nice color on you. is it new?”

there was that breeze inside his chest, strong, pulling at his bones. “yeah,” he grunted. then slowly, as if remembering how: “thanks.”

it was the attention, he thought at first, that piqued his interest. he wasn't used to it. people always watched him from afar, and he had fans online that were borderline obsessive, but people didn’t approach him. they didn’t say that’s such a nice color on you. they didn’t smile the way you smile.

he’s always had a shallow streak. it’s not like he doesn’t know this. it’s become a little muted over time, a little discouraged by the visible scarring on his face and body from his time in the field, but it’s never fully been eradicated. so it was simple, he thought. you paid him attention and stroked his ego, and he preened like a self-obsessed bird of paradise.

and then you started making these little origami whale sharks.

fucking stupid. it bothered him an annoying amount. you had a bunch at your desk, all different colors and sizes, some taped to your desktop monitor, some hung up with little pieces of string under the desk's storage overhang. you drew dots on the back of each one, a distinct spotted pattern that was unique for each shark. and you made them for everyone but him. eijirou bought you a pack of high quality origami paper and you made him his own fucking school, all with little faces, winking or surprised or angry, their wide paper mouths gaping and empty, the lines of their bodies pressed careful and sure.

he hated it. it was annoying and a waste of company time and he usually didn’t ever use dumb corporate slogans like “a waste of company time” but you were really pushing his fucking limits.

it was definitely just the attention he liked, he told himself, because surely someone doing something as dumb as this would annoy him to no fucking end if he spoke to them.

and then he spoke to you and he was wrong.

he asked why you made the damn things in the first place and you told him, “i like whale sharks. but to be totally honest, i just run out of things to do."

and he saw that as a challenge. you were running out of things to do? rest assured he could find more shit for you to take care of. so he did. tasks that he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy, they were so dull and time-consuming. and you were so achingly competent that it drove him up a fucking wall. you completed everything he asked of you in half the time it would take someone else, and you always reported back with a smile, and you always did good work, and he could see himself having a conversation with you about something other than work but he didn't want to try because he was worried he'd begin to like you as a person.

you're pretty. really fucking pretty. he can see that now, and he sure as fuck saw it then. you're hardworking. you're just likeable, and that's something katsuki had never been. it (reluctantly) impressed him. worse than that, it turned his feelings for you into a sort of interest.

but he knows he's not normal when it comes to things like this.

he tried to distance himself from you because of it, but it turns out that asking someone to do work for you means you do have to speak to them sometimes. and sometimes turned into a lot of times.

sometimes turned into bringing him coffee in the morning, not because he asked you to, but because you're sweet like that. sometimes turned into being the person he bounced ideas off of when he had a board meeting coming up or something otherwise boring and meticulous. sometimes turned into you laughing at his prickly comments rather than going quiet because of them. turned into you saying suck it up, dynamight, this is what it means to be the boss when he complained about doing paperwork.

sometimes turned into staying late with him at the office, getting take out for the two of you to share while you finished filing claims and damage reports and other stuff he hated taking care of by himself. sometimes turned into him asking you to stay late just because he wanted you there. because even when he was quiet, you'd tell him about your day, about things that happened in the office, about how much you like the book you'd both been reading. he loved listening to you talk. felt comfortable enough to tell you things about himself when he'd never felt comfortable doing that before.

sometimes turned into you holding out a piece of fried tofu from your take-out container for him to eat while he was approving time-off forms that he should have looked at much earlier that week, and you being so close that he could notice how good you smelled, and the warmth of your body basically radiated towards him, like all your energy was focused on him, and your smile was small but somehow even more lovely than usual, a secret for him to tuck away and keep, and when you finished feeding him and he had a little sauce on the corner of his mouth and you reached forward to wipe it off for him and your hand lingered there for a moment and your eyes fell to his lips and what if you try to kiss me and i'm wrong and you hate me for it and what if i can't give you what you want and what if i'm not actually what you want what if i've disappointed you already what if—

it was too much.

so he fucked it up. your thumb was so soft against his skin. he reeled backwards in his chair, rolling it whole feet clear of you, and he felt the tearing again, the bad kind, like paper unevenly shredded by clumsy hands, and he had to leave. he had to leave. he needed to leave so badly that it felt like pulling his skin off would be preferable to being in that office with you.

hiding in the bathroom was fucking pitiful. he remembered his breathing exercises. he remembered to ground himself. and when he came back to his office, you were gone.

if he was normal—and he wants to be normal, god fucking damn—he could have stomached your proximity. he could have eaten out of your fucking hand. he could have touched you back like a normal person probably would have and he wouldn't be here, alone, looking at a little purple sticky note you left him that says i finished organizing the pto forms. i hope you feel better!

he doesn't know whose pride you're trying to save with that. as if you didn't leave because he made things so fucking awkward by running away from you when you touched him. when you—maybe, if he was reading the room correctly—were about to kiss him.

and you don't speak to him for days. he doesn't want to push so he doesn't—just watches you out of the corner of his eye whenever you're both in the same room, which is arguably worse. he's not sure. he's just itching to fucking talk to you because he misses it.

he misses you. in a more-than-friends way.

it takes a while for him to realize this. when he does, it hits him like a metal rod up the side of the head. it's fucked up of him to miss you the way he does when he doesn't feel like he can provide you with the things a normal person could. and though he's worked on his patience over the years—worked on understanding that he can't have everything he wants—it doesn't stop him from being selfish and finally pulling you aside to talk.

and baffling as fucking ever, the first thing you say is sorry. "i know i should've talked to you about it earlier. i just—i shouldn't have done that. and i know it. i shouldn't have assumed that—i don't know. that you..."

you look helpless. it's one of the very few times that katsuki has ever felt the compulsion to touch someone. not because he wants the touch, per se, but because he wants to be able to provide comfort. he never figured out how to do that with words. he's so focused on his inability to comfort you that he barely has any idea of what you're actually talking about. instead of doing anything at all, he just stands there like a fuckwad.

"i just want you to know that i would never—like never—have touched you, or tried to... if i didn't think there was like, a vibe?" you shake your head, exasperated with yourself. "god, even that sounds so bad. i'm sorry, i just—"

"wait, what are—?" and then it clicks, because he's been slow on the uptake figuring out his shit when he should have been focusing way more on yours. "there was..." katsuki says, and he fucking hates that he can't find better words for what you were both feeling in his office, "a vibe."

the way your face changes when you're flustered is one of katsuki's favorite things, but it's not as enjoyable when he feels just as flustered as you look. "i—oh? so... so you—?"

his ears feel like they're being attacked by two heated straightening irons and he knows they're red as hell right now. he's gonna have to say this plainly even though he'd rather get his teeth pulled out one by one with a pair of pliers. "it's not you."

your expression loses any sort of hope it once held. you press your lips together and sigh, maybe a little exasperated. he's doing his best here but he knows his best is shit. "i can handle a non-cliché rejection," you tell him. "honestly, i'd prefer a non-cliché rejection—"

"i'm not trying to reject you," he says, and it's selfish of him. because he's really not. he isn't comfortable with the things you'd want from him, but he still wants you in some capacity. "i just don't—do shit like that."

"kissing?"

somehow knowing for sure that you did want to kiss him in his office makes him want you more. he likes that you're bold. he likes that you're not ashamed of that. he wants to be different than he is. "any... of it," he struggles to admit.

"at all?"

he nods.

"just—like touching, and stuff?"

it sounds so juvenile that he can't help but laugh through his nose, roll his eyes. "yeah. touching and stuff."

"oh."

you're disappointed. of course you are. it's not like he expected anything different, but—sometimes he fucking hates his life. hates that he can't be the thing people need him to be. hates that trying is so difficult, that it flings his stomach into space, like a throwing stone skipping across a still lake.

"so you don't go on dates, or anything."

"haven't tried."

"do you not want to?" you ask, and he can tell it's more of a genuine question than anything. you're curious about him, like you always are. it's more than he deserves, for all he can offer.

"doesn't make sense to."

"that's not what i asked."

it's not. and so katsuki listens as you ask your question again, and he really takes a moment to think.

considering the answer to your question leads him to his first date with you. and his second, and his third—his fourth, and he's keenly aware that his last fourth date ended with what he expects all dates are supposed to end with.

he takes you to the aquarium. because of all the fucking origami whale sharks. you still haven't given him one and it sticks in his craw like a bone. in front of the backlit tank that holds sharks of all types, shapes and sizes and teeth he's never pictured possible of a living creature before, he asks, "why sharks?"

you look at him, brow raised. "i don't know. they probably needed the biggest tank in the aquarium. and this looks like the biggest tank."

"no, dumbass—your sharks. the ones all over the fuckin' office."

"what, you don't like them?" you ask, but you're smiling, sly.

he shrugs. he thinks they're dumb as hell. he wants one to hang up at work, like the ones you've got hung up at your desk. "they're whatever. they clutter the fuck out of ei's office. and he's already got issues organizing." you've just made eijirou so many at his point, and it's getting ridiculous. "but what—are they easy to make, or something?"

you laugh a little. "no. not at all, actually." a whale shark swims by, its spotted hide shimmering in the tank's eerie blue lighting, and you watch it intently. "but it'd be boring if it was too easy."

this date ends with him walking you home from the aquarium a few blocks from your apartment and you smiling at him and telling him that you had a really great time, and he feels like a fucking freak because you don't even expect more. you don't wait for a kiss. don't look disappointed that he doesn't try to give you one. the way you look at him holds so much affection that he doesn't deserve and he has no idea how to reciprocate it to you, and somehow he lands on, "make me one."

"one what?" you ask, but he thinks you already know what he's asking. you like to play coy. he likes it when you play coy. when you're enjoying yourself.

"one of your little fuckin' paper things," he mutters, because admitting that he wants one of those dumbass sharks feels somehow demeaning. he doesn't want you to know how much he's wanted one. "ei's got a million of 'em."

your hand was on your door handle, but it falls to your side. he's keenly aware of its proximity to him. he doesn't feel that terrible ripping in his gut and its absence is almost frightening to him. your fingers tighten into a fist. it's cold out. "ah, and you're jealous?"

"no," he says, knee-jerk. "i just don't get why everyone gets one but me."

you smile when he says this and he could live in this image of you, delicate and small and made for him. he goes home and thinks about it until he falls asleep. thinks about it even beyond then, feels that strong breeze inside him tearing every leaf from its grounded perch.

here's the thing—nothing against jirou, but unlike his other fourth date, this one was enjoyable. more than. he loved watching you be amazed by the size of the whale sharks, and he loved watching you put a bunch of coins into the penny press and cranking the machine until one was squeezed out into the pattern you wanted, and he loved watching you lay your hand against the glass where the rubbery wings of a flood of stingrays battled for your attention, and—

he loved watching you. that's weird, right? he sounds like a fucking lunatic thinking that.

but he does. he hadn't realized until now how difficult it had been not only to touch people, but to look at them. maintaining eye contact, watching someone do a simple task out of interest instead of staring them down in an attempt to intimidate them. he's so much more fucked up than he thought but what makes it bearable is that he can do it with you. he can watch the way you enjoy things and feel like he's not intruding on something he shouldn't. without even trying, you make him feel welcome—wanted.

that's it. you make him feel wanted.

the realization affects him in a way he doesn't understand. at work the next day, when you smile at him over the top of the front desk, he feels something incredibly strong—something like instinct—that tells him to touch you. small. a thumb brushed across your cheek. his fingers grazing yours. he wants it in a way that can't be right because he's never wanted to touch someone like this.

he doesn't do it, but he thinks about it all day. your little smiles when you notice him watching you on your dates, the way your fingers graze your lips when you cover your laugh, the softness in the way you regard him. you're quiet, reserved, but when you laugh you laugh hard. he wants your soft, your quiet and your loud, he wants the feeling of your fingers on his lips, he wants your smallest smiles, all things he wishes he could fold up and keep and later display somewhere he can always see them. a school of paper fish, gaping mouths and drawn-on spots and such carefully pressed lines.

so on the eleventh date—(he knows it's ridiculous to count, but he's never spent this much time with one person before, not like this)—he reaches for your hand when you're walking alongside the bay, the air turning cold in the wake of the sunset that the two of you had just witnessed. that's romantic, you'd teased when he asked you to watch it with him. he'd rolled his eyes, shrugged you off.

but maybe he wanted it to be romantic. maybe he wanted to make this as normal as possible for you because nothing has been normal between the two of you so far.

you pull back when he reaches for you, as if on instinct. look up at him, confused, when he reaches out again. "katsuki..." you say, and it sounds as if he's done something wrong.

he tries not to let his brain spiral but thoughts drip inwards. water meeting a dented hull. what has he done this time? what else has he fucked up by being fundamentally wrong?

"you know..." you start, and you lose your words.

he thinks of kyoka, years ago. it's okay, you know. to not like it. he wonders if you'll still text him like she does.

your lips pull into a frown before you speak and katsuki can't breathe. "i was never gonna ask on my own because i know you don't like talking about things like this if you don't bring it up. but—um. katsuki—do you think i expect something from you?"

"huh?" he asks, dumb. breathing is still something he fails to do.

"i know that this is—different. i know you have some things going on that make the physical part hard for you." you look up at him so earnestly, and he loves looking at you. he loves looking at you and doesn't want to have to stop and he's worried that this is it. the moment he'll have to stop. you try to smile and it's small and he wants it all for himself. careful. delicate. secret, for him. "i'm not gonna lie to you. i don't know what a relationship without that kind of stuff looks like. but that doesn't mean i'm not willing to find out. it's—i don't need you to try to do something you think i want you to do."

"i'm not."

"it makes me feel a little sick, kat. honestly. it makes me feel like, i don't know—like i'm taking advantage of you, or something—"

"you're not."

"you don't have to do things like that to keep me around." you look flustered, eyes darting from his face to the skyline. "if you want me, i'm—you know."

it's okay, you know. "i don't know."

"i'm yours," you say, and cringe immediately at your words. "or like—i could be, you know, kind of whatever you wanted, if you—if that's what you want. would want."

katsuki can only remember a few times when his head was this quiet in the presence of someone else. when he trusted someone enough to let his mind go blank, to let himself act on instinct. "can i kiss you?"

you sigh. "this is what i was saying. i don't want you to—"

"no," he says, quiet, and he's closer to you than he's ever been. he likes the way you smell. he's not gonna apologize if that's weird. "i just want—god, i feel pathetic asking again. can i just—?"

just, just, just. just a touch, just a kiss, just a moment of your fucking time—it's all he wants. and he's never wanted like this. he's never trusted like this. his head has never quieted entirely because he's so sure that he's not going to disappoint you, or be something you don't actually want, or be wrong.

you've shown him that he can't be wrong with you, regardless of whether or not something within him is broken.

your lips are warm, a little chapped from the dry air, and he tries to remember what kissing chastely is but it's like something breaks in him further the second the two of you touch. his hands are cradling your face, his tongue is gliding against your tongue, his teeth are clacking against your teeth, and he knows the kiss is bad and wrong and messy but he suddenly needs it. he needs to feel you.

you make a noise against him and worry slices into his stomach before he realizes it's a quiet, breathy moan, and maybe you've been okay without the touch but that doesn't mean you don't enjoy it when you receive it. he can tell he hasn't made his boundaries clear enough—your hands circle his wrists, too cautious to go further, too hesitant to grip him like he thinks you want to. like he wants you to want to.

his teeth hit yours again and you laugh, and he pulls back, stomach tight. there's a hope in him that's ready to be torn.

you see it in his face—the fear. "i love kissing you," you blurt out, as if it's the only reassurance you can think of in the moment. "i mean—you're just." you laugh again, and he realizes it's nerves. you're just as nervous as he is. "can i—can we go somewhere warm? and maybe do this more? or—if this was enough—"

he's pulling you towards his apartment before you can get another word out.

kissing you is easy because you make him feel like it's relatively new for you as well. maybe that's how it feels for everyone every time, but he wouldn't know. he just feels comfortable with you. like you're not so much better than him, like you're not waiting to laugh at him when he fucks up, like you're touching him because you really want to.

so he takes you to his apartment and puts you on his couch and kisses you until your back is against the armrest and he's looming over you and you feel comfortable enough that your hands stray from his wrists to his shoulders to his hair and he didn't even know touching someone could feel like this.

put aside the fact that he's nearly finished in his fucking jeans three times just from your fingers running across his back, from the way you cup his cheek when he pulls back for air because he keeps forgetting to breathe—just having you close is intoxicating. he wants to bury his face in the curve of your shoulder, he wants to bite marks into your skin that'll stay vibrant for weeks, he wants to etch himself into you so deeply that he doesn't have to leave. these wants aren't even sexual—it's something about having you be his. i'm yours, you'd told him, and he hadn't even known that it would be exactly what he needed to hear.

he's in love with you, which isn't shocking to him, but he knows he shouldn't be in love with you yet because people that aren't fucked up in the head don't feel shit like this so quickly. he's not gonna tell you this for a very long time, but he knows—so completely and confidently—that he will reach a point when he can tell you.

"you sure you want this?" he asks, breathy, between kisses.

you stop kissing him, brows raised in surprise. "katsuki, we don't... this is a lot for one night. we can take it slow, still."

"that's—i'm not talking about that." he gives in, then—lets himself bury his face in the crook of your neck, lets himself breathe in deep, lets himself find your hands and intertwine your fingers, and you can probably feel that he's hard as fucking metal for you but that's not what's important right now. it sure as hell makes it awkward to try to have a serious conversation, though. "you sure you wanna deal with all... you know. my stuff."

"are you sure you wanna deal with all of my stuff?" you counter, and he pulls back to look at you. kissed rotten and smiling. "of course i want to deal with it. i like you."

and he likes you too. god, he likes you so fucking much.

the next morning, long after you've left for home, he finds a little orange whale shark hidden behind the alarm clock on his bedside table, stars in the place of eyes, and the trace of you is enough to make him feel warm. to hope that over time his apartment becomes full of the little paper creatures until his home is its own aquarium, until everywhere he looks is a memory of all you've brought him—pieces of you, perfectly arranged and delicately folded by your careful hands, much too gentle to tear.

[nebbyy]

Please write a fanfic about King Baldwin IV from KoH, where he fell in love with female reader. The plot is up to you. Please make it a serious love story with slight fluff 🤗🤭

Baldwin IV x reader - Life always comes down to a game of chess

A/N: You have no idea how much I love you anon, this was one of the prompts I already wanted to write omgggg!! For this fic I kinda got inspired by this painting (which, for everyone interested, it’s “La belle dame sans merci” by Frank Dicksee), and you’ll see how and why reading it;)

Summary: King Baldwin IV receives an offer from an Italian nobleman to marry his daughter; unsure of whether to accept or not this compelling offer, Baldwin decides to do what he does best…

Warning: there are some mentions of christianity and religious references along with some hints at the misogynistic ideologies of the time (about the woman being “owned” by the dominant male figure in her life) ((I don’t condone this ideology at all but I thought it’d be fitting to add it anyway to give some accuracy to it)).

Word count: 2637

King Baldwin couldn’t quite wrap his head around you. The day that he was informed of your engagement, he felt himself quite skeptical of the idea of marrying someone. After all, ever since his leprosy had been diagnosed he had to get used to the idea of living a life of solitude, forced into a lifelong chastity, for no sane man would ever marry off their daughter to a leper. With time, he had found solace in nurturing his own knowledge and virtue, elevating himself to a level of wisdom that very few could boast at his young age.

During the following days, the young king's mind was plagued with thoughts, considerations he was making to weigh the choice. The benefits of marrying Lady Y/N were many, first and foremost securing a connection to the land of Italian speakers, allowing for easier trafficking of crusaders arriving in the Holy Land, not to mention the abundance that would be the young lady's dowry. And not only did marrying her mean strengthening the economical side of his reign, but it also meant giving the impression to the public that the king's health condition was improving to such an extent that he considered that to be an ideal time to marry. His most trusted men and all of his advisors kept repeating to him, marrying Lady Y/N would’ve been  comparable to a blessing.

But despite all the benefits this union seemed like it would bring, Baldwin continued to hesitate to make a decision. What left him so undecided was the possibility that this was some kind of deception, a conspiracy orchestrated against him, hidden in the form of the most convenient of marriages. It was up to him to decide whether it was worth taking these risks in favor of the benefits that would come if his concerns turned out to be unfounded. 

Like everything else in his life, this choice came down to a game of chess…

It was this idea that prompted him to make a decision. Baldwin had a messenger called, to be sent to Pisa to give the news to Lord Y/F/N that the king wished to report his decision to him live, at his court. For the lord to arrive it would have to wait, but Baldwin has always been a man of exceptional patience.

Four months passed, when at the dawn of Lent it was announced by a Pisan messenger that Lord Y/F/N and his daughter had come to Acre, and would soon be coming to Jerusalem. Another week passed before father and daughter, riding two white horses and accompanied by an escort of knights arrived at the royal palace.

When he first saw you, Baldwin could have sworn he saw Mary himself. You walked with such grace that you almost seemed to float. Your face looked serene, despite the anxiety that had been devouring you from within ever since the day the invitation from the king of Jerusalem reached you; a blue veil covered your hair, framing your face and falling over your shoulders. You bowed to Baldwin as was proper to do before a king, yet he felt so tempted to interrupt you, prevent you from bowing to him, perhaps even bowing to you himself.

At that moment he felt like Lancelot before Guinevere, completely mesmerized by your beauty, one who seemed more fit to an angel than a woman. But, he gave no sign of his true emotional state; after all, a gorgeous woman does not mean she can be fit to serve as queen. Her answer will be decided when she has had a chance to hear you speak, away from the judgmental stares of the court, free from any influence that might change what you really think.

As the sun shone bright in the sky, the banquet took place inside of the palace. The king excused himself before going to eat by himself in his chambers as usual, leaving his guests in the company of his sisters and his court. Loud chatter filled the room, goblets were raised to get more wine poured, courses flowed onto the set table, a tribute to thank Lord Y/F/N for making such a journey to fulfill the king's request. All this noise, yet in your ears all became quiet when a servant approached your chair, whispering a few simple words, "The king has requested your presence at dinner."

Your blood froze in your veins in surprise, and you could almost feel your father's thrill as you rose from your seat, having the servant guide you toward the king's study. Walking through the halls of the palace, you could do nothing but feel so small in comparison, you almost seemed to disappear, enveloped by the magnificence of everything around you that, if all went well, you would have called your own.

You were brought back to reality when the heavy doors of the king's room were opened by the two guards who stood at his sides. An enveloping fragrance, a mixture of myrrh and frankincense filled your senses with a feeling of serenity, an almost familiar feeling. In the center of the room, a hooded figure, dressed in silk as white as snow. "Come forward, my lady. I apologize for my absence at the table but," she interjected for a moment, rising from her seat and revealing her face-or at least, what was not covered by the veil-"many might find my appearance somewhat...disturbing during a meal." He chuckled a little at that last part. You wondered if irony had become a kind of means for him to soften his own hellish condition. 

As soon as he turned around you could not help but study the appearance of what will hopefully be your future husband. Rumors about his condition had been swirling since the day he was crowned, so you had been prepared to be confronted with a horrifically disfigured man. Instead, although part of his face was covered by the thin veil, it was like an instinct for you to try to study his features. You could vaguely make out the golden hair that adorned his face, although it was covered by the veil. His voice had intrigued you; it sounded so jovial and yet so deep. A melody that sang of the young monarch's endeavors. It intrigued you, you wondered what his lips looked like, whether they matched the sound of his voice.

But what really caught your interest were his eyes. They were blue, but of a color so deep, so intense, it reminded you of tales you had heard about the northern seas, of the waters that dark and deep seemed to beckon sailors, to lead them to drown within them. Likewise you felt mesmerized by such intensity. And you wondered, how much of this would remain the same as his illness progressed.

You recovered from that momentary trance, wasting no time to bow, but this time Baldwin stopped you before you were able to bow more than your head: "Don't bow, please. Such reverences are not necessary here." You looked at him a little dumbfounded, but despite the king's unusual attitude you did not object. He stepped to the side, revealing a finely decorated chessboard, with all the pawns already set in place. "Do you play?" he asked softly, and you finally mustered up the courage to speak "It's been some time since I last did," as you approached the table, taking your seat opposite Baldwin. He took his seat again, and for the first time in your life you found yourself face to face with a king. 

You quickly realised that he had assigned you the white pawns, the small courtesy of moving you first. You took a moment to think of an initial strategy, and moved your first pawn. A horse. Baldwin raised his eyebrows, surprised by your decision. "Aren't you going to move the pawns first?" You kept your gaze on the chessboard, partly out of respect and partly out of fear, still unsure why the king would call you to his chambers, if indeed it was all just to have a playmate. "I always prefer to start with the horse. I like to think that the pawns would be frightened to charge against the enemy without a knight to guide them." You looked up, meeting his eyes that studied you intrigued. Chuckling at what you had just said, you continued, shaking your head slightly, "Forgive me, it was just a silly thought."

"Not at all, my lady," he replied, studying your every detail, "I find it fascinating." It was his turn to move, and as per rule, he moved one of the pawns, the one in front of the queen. "So you think good leadership is better than letting the individual decide for himself?" There was a spark that had lit up in his eyes, something playful. It was clear that you were intriguing him, surprisingly in your eyes, since you had been instructed to stay behind your father's shadow, not to express your thoughts or externalize your ideologies.

Everything had to be perfect, one could not risk the futile mind of a young woman ruining the marriage that would have been so beneficial to her dukedom, but above all to her family. Yet at that moment she felt that expressing what resided in her own mind was exactly what Baldwin wanted from her. Something lit up in her too, and he in turn caught the same spark in her eyes. Could it be that she had figured out the trick...? 

Another pawn moved, it was Baldwin's turn to move again. Your eyes seldom parted from each other, just for that moment necessary to make your own move. "Independence is not always what benefits a man. Certainly, it is tempting, but in moments of indecision it risks leading to oblivion. An infantryman needs a leader, a young man who is lost in the woods needs a hunter to guide him out..." Another move, the white bishop points directly at the black king "...an indecisive man needs an outside opinion to make his decision."

You smiled, and like the sweetest of plagues you infected him too. You had deciphered his little deception. An innocent deception, with the purpose of seeing with your own eyes how you, in a condition so similar to what is the duty of a sovereign, would have acted. 

After all, his life always came down to a game of chess....

"So you understood..." Baldwin whispered, again sitting in his place. For the first time in his memory, someone had managed to leave him speechless. His witty mind seemed to have died out all of a sudden, the knight in him unarmed by the woman sitting in front of him. Maybe the deception wasn’t as occult as he had planned, or maybe this young lady was really able to stand up to him.

You smiled at him proudly, be proud of your intuition but also relieved that your thought had not turned out to be foolish. Your pride had removed from your mind every rule, every admonition that had been given to you from the moment you set foot in the Holy Land; your mind was now like a river in flood, finally free to flow out according to its natural course. "I do not blame you, my lord. I realize that this is a difficult choice for you, and that the factors at stake go far beyond your individual will."

"And what do you think about that?" Your smile acquired a bittersweet scent, and you answered without almost hesitation: "I am only a woman, my will is that of my father and it will be of my husband. My family prays that this role will be filled by you, and for this to happen I have been instructed to be fit to reign at your side."

“That I can clearly see, but what truly urges me is to know what your own will says. If we were to marry, you would be the bride to a wretched man, one whose fate has already been announced by God. My demise won't be far off, you’ll be left a widow in a foreign land. And before this… curse gets the better of me, there is no saying that it won’t get to you too. If it did, you would suffer the same fate I had been given.”

It took you a moment to let his words sink into your mind. He spoke the truth, a future with him would be filled with sickness and uncertainty; you would have to live in a court far from your home, where everyone was waiting for the king’s death like a flock of crows flying above a dying man. You took a deep breath, feeling as everything came down to this very moment. “I won’t lie to you, my lord, the future that awaits me while standing by your side is not an easy one by any means, and I’m very much aware of that. I do not expect my future to be easy, for it would be an excess of greed. So if I can have a saying in my own future, I’d like to say that I would much rather all the time that is given to me by the Lord standing by the side of a man filled with virtue, than by the side of a man too full of himself to see anything just an inch away from his reflection. There would be no greater honor for me than to stand by your side, for as long as you still have to live, my lord. And if I ever was to catch this disease as well, then I would have no other words to say other than God wills it.“

At your words, the young king had to shake himself up, now more than ever necessary for him to say something, anything really. “For you, my lady, I shall always be just Baldwin.” His tone was softer than ever, a soft breeze that reached to you and whispered I am but yours now. It was unsaid, but decided. Once this meeting would be over, the king would come to your father, and confirm his decision to accept the proposal. Only problem was, this meeting seemed to have become endless. What was supposed to be a quick meal, accompanied by a game of chess, turned into a lively exchange of political views, then silly childhood anecdotes, then again into a walk in the inner courtyard of the palace. Baldwin tried hard to keep you in his presence for as long as was deemed decent for an unmarried man and woman. He kept you with him as long as he could, and when that was no longer possible, he led you back into the great hall, gently holding your hand over his. Soon after the announcement of your engagement, the wedding was set to happen during the following Easter, and the banquet made in honor of his guests was prolonged until the sun had been long set, this time in honor of his betrothed.

You think back to that day fondly, as you lay on your bed, in the comfort of silky sheets and soft pillows. One of your hands holds your head while the others traces the patterns of the scars in your husband’s face that have considerably worsened during the years. Aside from the bed, sitting on a table, forgotten as long as the night reigned over Jerusalem, were two crowns, along with two chess pawns. A white queen and a black king. Both came from the set that had been used the day the two of you met, a reminder for Baldwin of the day God had merged your destinies in one.

A/N: wowww that came out longer than I though oopss. ANYWAY, this was my interpretation of your request, anon, hope you like it!! Also, for everyone who’s gonna read this, feel free to leave any constructive criticism since this is my first fic and I would like to improve a looot more in my writing skills. That’s it now have a nice day y’all <3<3

[moonphaseswrites]

I got an idea but not sure if you are comfortable to write or not.

Poly!NiktoKrueger x reader. I feel like these two are going to be so much fun, especially in bed.

i whole heartedly assumed that it was way too early for me to actually start getting requests! ive hardly had this account up for 24 hours! this excites me to know that ive peaked peoples interests!!

and of course, i havent thought too much of krueger as of late, so i may not portray him too well.

poly!niktokrueger x reader thoughts! both sfw and nsfw, dont worry

sfw

despite the two men being on active duty and neither seeming to be touchy or affectionate people, they happen to make great lovers. between niktos voices calming down with kruegers unneeded usage of german, usually so nikto can zone out, and just your calming aura calming his head down, its not as hectic as youd imagine.

of course, if you didnt know any german or russian going into this, oh boy will you know at least how to speak a bit of each within a few months.

krueger is the one out of the two thats constantly using petnames and sweet talk on the two of you. he adores giving you two gifts, usually something as simple as little notes that he hand wrote. these notes tend to have both an english and a german translation.

the names he calls the two of you vary, but usually stick to the same theme. he is big on the use of "mein". making it known constantly that youre both his, and that he wouldnt think of separating.

your nicknames from your austrian boyfriend are "schatz" and "maus". his name for nikto is "spatzi", although he interchangibly uses "liebe" and "liebling" on both of you.

your russian boyfriend on the other hand isnt a huge fan of nicknames or many loving gestures. he finds it very difficult to express himself, especially with constant arguing going on inside his head about how he should react.

that being said, hes more of the acts of service type of guy. he knows all too well that you can simply take care of yourself, but when hes home he has a knack for telling you to shut up as he quietly does mundane things. washing the dishes (yells and curses at you and krueger if you try helping), tying your shoelaces for you, and even bathing you. its his way of showing that he really does care, even if he doesnt or cant show it in any other way.

i feel like theyd both be a bit overprotective with each other, constantly deployed at around the same times, usually ending up grouped together when deployed at the same areas. meaning theyd also be a bit obsessive protective of you. youre theirs, body mind, and soul. all theirs.

nsfw

being protective, if anyone ever tried to chance the fact that you were theirs, theyd stick a bullet in the person. although, theyd probably joke about pinning and fucking you over the dead body... although youre hoping that its all just a joke.

as nice as it would be in bed, whenever the two of them get home from a long deployment, theyre all over you. nikto being a bit more touchy than usual, rubbing your shoulders and your back. while krueger on the other hand is acting like some needy mutt, almost sitting on his knees in front of you, trying to lean his cheek against your thigh, slowly tugging his face covering to offer up his mouth.

both men tend to be more dominant leading, going at it as more of a duo than anything. although, if there had to be one who was the ultimate dominant, it would be krueger. explaining to nikto just how to do things to make whatever it is feel great, either to whoever was within niktos grasp or even nikto himself.

some nights its you on your back, spread across the shared bed as nikto uses your throat to get off, being rougher than he intended to be as he lost himself. sometimes your hands are tied behind your back, and sometimes youre helping him with your hands as well. its during these times that krueger is pretty much a service top, giving you head while you choke and whine pathetically. any squirms or sudden movements gaining a gentle nip to where his mouth is, occasionally nipping your inner thighs instead.

if youre into biting or pain, theyd make sure to mark you up really good. bruises to mark their territory like some stray mutts, but making sure any bad or violent marks are treated properly with a nice clean.

because their is two of them in this relationship, each with their own needs, youre almost always left satisfied and laid down between the two.

nikto, usually over heated and overstimulated with everything after constant interactions, keeping a bit of a distance between you, but he stays faced towards you in order to witness your tired yet blissful expression. gazing and watching you for a while before you would fall asleep.

krueger curls up against you on the other side of the bed, muttering german compliments and praises into your ear. his hand affectionately caressing your side with a half assed hum, or gently kneading onto your hip and lower abdomen in silent apology for any rough touches.

[tkwrites]

It Doesn't Matter - Part III - Nico Hischier x ofc

Gif from offside-the-lines

Title: It Doesn’t Matter - Part III

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Playlist

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Nico Hischier x Original female character 

Summary: Though they’ve finally confessed their feelings for one another, a 7 day road trip stands between Nico and Lena finally beginning their relationship. When Lena sends a photo of herself Nico never expected to receive, it springboards them into new territory. Upon arriving home, he and Lena are finally able to be together in ways they’ve only dreamed of. 

Warnings: Lots of fluff, followed by lots of smut (18+ only): oral (f and m receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!), talks of feeling singled out and a really dick ex-boyfriend.

Word count: 13,400

Comments: Phew! We made it. Just barely.

I gave myself a deadline for this series, liking the idea that I’d publish each installment on the last day of the the month, and I’m really proud that I was able to stick to that goal. 

This piece is LONG, so strap in. It was so much fun to write and string together, though. Writing Nico and Lena finally getting together has been such a joy for me. I really hope you enjoy it, too! If there's anything you'd like to see in their universe, please let me know!

If you do enjoy it, please consider letting me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

It Doesn’t Matter - Part III

Two days into the road trip, Nico was feeling restless and unsure. He wanted to call Lena and tell her he missed her. He wanted to talk to her about everything and nothing. Hear about her day in class and tell her about practice. Now that they’d crossed that initial physical barrier, he wanted to have phone sex and listen to her getting herself off. He wanted… he wanted so many things, but he wasn’t really sure where they stood. Could he just call her up and initiate a conversation that spanned both their friendship and their newfound sexual connection? Even when they were just friends and roommates, he hardly ever called her to just say hi. That felt too much like something he would do if they were dating, and he couldn't take the disappointment that came with not having that part be true. 

Except maybe now it was true?

Staring at her contact photo, he wondered how people did this. 

For Lena’s part, she was pacing the apartment, wondering if she should go through with it. Earlier in the day, in a fit of missing Nico so much it ached, she put on the lingerie set she bought the first week she’d moved in, set up her phone and took some photos to send to him. There was one in particular she liked, and she even had it queued up in a message. Now that she had someone to wear it for, and it, amazingly, turned out to be the guy she’d always hoped it would be, she couldn’t get the idea of wearing it for him out of her mind. And why wait until he was home when she could send a picture now?

He was off this afternoon, which meant he was likely napping. She could send it during the game, but there was more of a chance someone else might see it if she did that. And this was for his eyes only. 

She thought about prefacing it with a Don’t open this until you’re alone, message, but wouldn’t that ruin the surprise?

Finally deciding it’d be better to send it now, while he was more likely to be alone than after the game, she hit the blue arrow. The whooshing sound let her know it was delivered, and her heart immediately jumped into her throat. 

It was too late to take back now, and trying to explain her reasoning over text seemed impossible. She’d just have to wait for him to respond. 

Walking to her easel, she decided she needed to distract herself until he did. If she didn’t, she knew she would obsess powerfully and end up sending him something written from pure anxiety, and those messages never turned out well. For all she knew, he could be asleep and wouldn’t see it for another few hours. 

The thing was that Lena had never done this before. She'd never sent a picture of herself that hadn't been requested first, and she’d never wanted to. 

Past boyfriends wanted to ‘see her when they were apart,’ but that really translated to ‘I want something to show off to my friends.’ She'd been shocked to find Milo showing one of his buddies a picture she’d sent him while they were at a party. Together. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. The picture showed Lena in nothing but her underwear, one arm wrapped around her chest for some semblance of modesty when she didn’t really want to send the picture in the first place. The fact that he had it pulled up and was showing it off so casually made her feel objectified and cheap. 

That night, she did the sneakiest thing she'd ever done in a relationship and used his sleeping face to unlock his phone so she could delete all the pictures she'd sent him before breaking up with him the next morning. She even told him what she did. He complained that she was an uptight bitch who didn’t understand he was showing her off, and shouldn’t she be flattered. 

Nico would never do something like that. She knew him too well. He would know and had told her that photos like that were for the recipient only and shouldn’t be shared with anyone else. He told her once that one of the guys on the Mooseheads tried to show him a picture of his girlfriend, and the rest of the boys teased him for turning away. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he complained to Lena later that day, “I don’t want to see that.” It was one of the first times she knew he was different, and her rule about not dating hockey players was going to be broken.

It was because of that. Because she knew he wouldn’t show anyone else, and because she had the suspicion he would never ask for something like this that she’d sent it. 

The whole time she’d known him, Nico had been the nicest cute boy on the team. Always easy going and quick with a smile, even when he didn't understand what anyone was saying. He never treated her like a piece of meat like some of the guys did, always seeing and celebrating her humanity before anything else. He was genuinely interested in her art, and not just as a means of getting into her pants. 

When she met him, and they began hanging out with mutual friends, she remembered thinking, I'm going to tell people I met the love of my life in my senior year. 

Setting her phone face down on the end table, she picked up her palette and brush and turned her focus to the mountain sunset she’d been working on all week. 

When Nico's phone buzzed with a text from Lena, he opened it right away, anxious to hear from her. He didn't think anything of the preview that told him it was a photo. She often sent memes or funny photos of Cookie around the apartment or progress on her latest painting. 

Had he thought this might be anything close to possibility, he would have opened it in the bathroom. 

An embarrassing noise, overflowing with longing, crawled up his throat. 

Jonas shot him a confused look, and Nico had to act like everything was normal. Like he wasn’t taken completely off guard. Like he didn’t have a hard on in their hotel room. Like Lena hadn’t just sent him a picture of herself in pink lingerie, winking cheekily at the camera.

He wanted to bury his head in a pillow and groan. He wanted to call her and tell her how beautiful she was. He wanted to detail each and every way he was going to make her come when he got home. 

“I’m —” Nico coughed, “I’m gonna go on a walk,” he told Jonas, bolting out of bed and into the hallway. Maybe this was worse. Now, he had a boner in public. He needed a place where he could talk to her alone. 

There was a conference room the coaches were using this morning, wasn’t there? He ran down the hall and found the room empty and blissfully unlocked. 

The whole wall facing the hallway was glass, but it’s not like he was going to do anything indecent. 

The call went to voicemail. 

Frowning, Nico pulled the phone away from his ear. Certainly, in the time it took him to run down the hall, she hadn’t gone away from her phone. And she didn’t send that thinking he wouldn’t respond, right? That would be crazy. No woman would send a picture of herself like that if she didn’t want a response. 

The device buzzed in his hand, and he felt a sigh let go in his chest. “Hey,” he greeted, bringing it back to his ear. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding a little breathless, “I didn’t want to drop my palette all over your living room.” 

“Thanks,” he said, laughter in his tone. He was amazed she could just go back to painting after sending a message like that. He’d be a nervous wreck.

The awkwardness that passed over the phone line between them made Lena’s heart race with indecision. How was she supposed to broach this subject? Did you get the photo I sent? Do you want to talk about it? Are you calling me because it had the desired affect? 

Finally, she decided to go into neutral territory, “so, how are you?” 

How was he supposed to answer that question? 

“I got your message,” he said, wincing at the accusing tone in his voice. He didn’t even answer her question.

“Did you…” she felt suddenly self-conscious, “I mean, did you like it?” 

Did she think he was blind? “Yeah, I wouldn’t have minded some warning, though,” he admitted. The sound that had come out of his mouth when he opened it rang in his head, and he felt himself flush out of embarrassment. 

“Sorry,” she said, voice sheepish. “I was debating about telling you to open it alone, but I just kind of freaked out and sent it.”

Laughter rumbled from his chest, “you don’t need to apologize. I really liked it.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I don’t know a man alive who wouldn’t like getting a picture like that from the woman he loves.” 

The casual way he said he loved her made her heart pitter-patter. 

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Lena,” he said.

She liked that he used the word seen. Not the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, the most beautiful he’d ever seen. Heat raced into her cheeks, “really?”

“Yes.” It almost came out a groan. Just thinking about it got him worked up, but now that they were on the phone, he didn’t think it was the time to broach phone sex. Maybe that was her intention in sending it, but their conversation was too sweet and awkward to steer in that direction. He didn’t want to ruin it, or for her to think he only wanted her physically. He wanted every part of her.

His simple answer turned her insides to goo. 

She sniffed, and panic spiked in his chest. “Are you crying?” 

“A little.” 

“Why? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothings wrong,” her voice was wobbly, “I just…I can’t really believe this is my life, you know?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean that I spent six years pining after you, thinking you didn’t like me, and now you’re telling me I’m the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. It almost doesn’t feel real.” 

“Yeah,” he swung his legs up onto the sofa under the windows and lay back. “The whole time we were kissing, I kept thinking I needed to pinch myself.” 

She giggled, knowing the feeling all too well. 

“I wish I told you sooner,” he said quietly.

“Tell me about it,” she groaned. 

He knew he would beat himself up about this, and his siblings would hold how they were right about Lena over his head for the rest of time. 

“I can’t believe you sent me a picture of yourself in lingerie,” he said, voice full of wonder and longing. “I don’t think I ever even let myself imagine that.” The reality of it was too much. It made their relationship more tangible somehow. 

“I missed you, and I just kept thinking about how I finally had someone to wear it for other than myself, and I don’t know, I just…I wanted you to see it.”

Her admission made his insides feel gooier than a raclette. “I miss you too,” he said, glad he hadn't steered the conversation to sex. That would come, he knew, but he was glad for this reassurance. 

They fell into a comfortable silence, and Nico pulled in a calming breath. 

“How was class on Friday?” 

“Good. Professor Brown really likes my sketches.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, she said I really turned a corner and understood what she was trying to get us to do.” 

“That’s great.” 

Posing for her would have never been in vain when it brought them together, but he was glad the art wasn’t going unnoticed by her teachers. 

“She wants to put them in the student showcase for this semester.” 

His mouth went dry. “What?” 

“She said they’re such a cohesive story and series, she’d like to put them in the showcase. It’s a huge honor. I told her I had to talk to you before I could say yes, though.”

Mind racing, Nico wondered what on earth he’d gotten himself into. 

“I…” he paused. “How —” his voice squeaked over the word, and he had to clear his throat, “how long would they be up?” 

“Basically through December. I think the show goes up that first weekend.” 

That was only a few weeks away. 

“And they take it down when we come back after the break, so mid-January, I think.”

“I just…” he gulped, “I — what if someone recognizes me?” It was highly unlikely people who attended art shows at the New York Institute of Art would know him on site, but the thought of a fan seeing the sketches and recognizing him posing nude still made his stomach turn. 

“Well, they won’t be up for sale, so no one will be taking them home but me,” she assured. 

That was a relief.

“I could try to take out your tattoo, make you a little less recognizable.” 

He didn’t respond. 

“You don’t have to decide now. You can take time to think about it.”

The hesitation in her voice made his mind up for him. He wouldn’t be the thing holding her back. He’d figure it out. 

“You should show them,” he found himself saying. 

He’d have to tell the teams PR about it in case someone posted them on social media. 

“Only if you’re sure.” 

“I’m sure. I’m…” Why hadn’t he led out with this? “I’m really proud of you.” 

Her insides turned to pudding again, “thank you, Nico.” 

He would figure it out. It would be fine. The most important thing was that she was getting the recognition she deserved. “We can go see it together?” he asked. 

“They have a gallery opening I’ll have to attend. I’ll have to make sure, but I think it’s on the 6th.” 

He pulled up the team calendar. They were, thankfully, in town and didn’t have a game that Friday. “I can come.” 

“I would love that.” 

“I want to be there to support you.” She supported him through so many things, he was glad he could return the favor. “I can invite some of the guys?” 

“Only if you want,” she said, feeling a little taken aback. “If you’re okay with them seeing the drawings.”

“It’s nothing they haven’t seen before,” he said with a laugh, “and I want them to know how talented my girlfriend is.” 

“Oh, am I your girlfriend now?” she asked, teasing.

If it were up to him, she’d be his wife before too long. “Yes. Finally.” 

She giggled, “I never thought I’d actually get to call you my boyfriend.” 

The excitement in her voice pulled a giddy feeling in his stomach. 

Someone knocked on the window above him, and Nico sat up, startled. Jack was on the other side of the glass, exaggeratedly asking him if he wanted to go into the city.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I have to go,” he said, nodding at Jack. 

“Okay, I’ll talk to you soon?” she said it like a question. 

“Yeah. I’ll call you tomorrow?” 

“That sounds great.” 

He could hear the smile in her voice, and it filled his chest with a warm, buoyant feeling. Turning away from the window, he said, “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Nico. Good luck tonight. I’ll be watching.”

Lena hung up the phone, shaking her head. She'd gone into that call expecting phone sex, and instead, she got emotional reassurance. How was he even real?

He hung up the phone, grinning.

“What’s got you all cheery? Who was on the phone?”

“Lena,” he said, slipping the device into his pocket. 

“Dude, you’ve got to make a move.” 

Nico smiled to himself. He’d tell Jack and the guys eventually, but for now, he was just reveling in the fact that he had, and it turned out better than he ever imagined. 

The photo haunted him for the rest of the road trip. It wasn't even the picture itself, which did live in his mind rent free, and he'd jerked off to at least three times. No, the thing that really haunted him was the fact that she sent it in the first place, that she felt comfortable enough to send it, that she wanted him thinking about and desperate for her. And he was desperate, in a way he'd never experienced before. 

He wanted her to feel the same way, but knew from experience that she didn't like dick pics. 

In a fit of indignation after receiving one on a dating app, she'd handed him her phone to unmatch the guy as she told him, “I don’t know why men think everyone wants to see their dick. I can promise you, no one wants to see your dick. Unless a woman tells you, ‘send me a picture of your penis,’ she doesn't want to see it. Even if she sent you a picture to get off to, she doesn’t want to watch you do it unless she asks for it.” 

He'd asked her what a woman did want. 

“Send her a picture of your hands or your forearm while you’re doing something. Men's forearms are sexy.”

So he'd done just that. A video, actually, strategically cropped to show the flex of his forearm and wrist as he got himself off in their next hotel while her name fell from his lips over and over again. He didn't even need to look at his phone anymore. The photo was burned into his brain and etched onto his eyelids. 

She responded within minutes of him sending it. That's the sexiest thing a man has ever sent me, Nico. I can't believe you remembered. 

The video popped into her mind all the time. She couldn't stop thinking about his big hands and the veins winding up his forearm, standing out under his skin. She couldn’t stop hearing the hushed, breathy way he moaned her name.

It even happened in school if she let her mind wander, which resulted in her creaming her underwear and having to clench her legs together until the feeling eased off.

Touché, Mr. Hishier. Touché.

Four days later, Nico walked into the apartment, surprised to find lights still on. It was Friday night, but still, Lena usually went to bed early. No matter the day, her biological clock kept a rigid schedule. 

Perhaps she left the lights on when she went to sleep, not wanting him to come home to a dark house. As he walked through the living room, however, he found her on the couch, asleep with Cookie tucked against her like a little spoon. 

“Lena?” he asked, squatting in front of her.  

She didn’t even stir. 

“Lena,” he repeated, gently brushing a lock of hair off her forehead.

He loved this simple version of her - the peaceful, soft lines of her face and the gentle curve of her mouth. Her nose ring was slightly off center with her on her side, but it still fit on her face like it was a permanent feature that had always been there. When she showed up in Bern, having had it done just a few weeks previous, it had taken him a full half hour to realize what was different. It fit her and her personality so well, it didn’t stand out as a major change in his mind. 

He hadn’t thought it was possible he could think about kissing her more than he already did. 

“Nico?” she asked in the most adorable sleepy voice he’d ever heard. The visions he had of waking up next to her were suddenly much more real and much sweeter than he originally imagined. 

“What are you doing out here, hase?”

Her eyes finally fluttered open, and her stomach clenched when they met his. His hair had flopped into his eyes, but she could still clearly see the soft care in them. He was in a gray Devils hoodie that looked supremely soft.

Cookie stretched, yawned, and slinked out from under her arm as she reached forward to trace her fingers through his hair, pushing it back. “You’re so handsome, Nico.”

The dimple in his left cheek deepened with his bashful smile. He wasn’t used to her complimenting him so openly. “Danke, hase. What are you doing out here?” 

“Waiting up for you,” she said with a chagrined smile, “or trying to at least.” 

“Lets get you to bed,” he said, standing before he worked an arm under her legs, the other under her shoulders, and lifted her off the couch.

Lena snuggled into him with a contented little noise. She hadn't been carried like this since she was a little kid. 

He lay her on her bed, then pulled the covers out from under her body before settling them over her. 

“Will you stay?” she asked, quietly.

Something behind his sternum fractured a little. “Natürlich,” he murmured, brushing a kiss over her hair. “Let me go get ready, ja?”

She nodded. 

Nico thought for sure she would be asleep when he got back after washing his face and changing into some pajama pants, but though she was still in the same position he left her in, her eyes were open and she gave him an adorably sleepy smile. 

In some sort of dream came true, he walked around the bed to slip in behind her. 

Except Cookie was laying there, pressed against her back, blinking at him slowly as if to ask why Nico was there and what he thought he was about to do. 

“Uh,” he began, not sure what to do. 

“Just move him over here.”

So Nico took the cat around the middle and lifted him over Lena. He squirmed and made a grumbling noise but didn’t swipe. Before he could jump off the bed in a fit of indignation, Lena gathered him against her chest and kissed his head. 

Cookie grumbled again. It was apparently all for show, though, because he settled in her arms almost at once and began purring and nuzzling her chin. 

Now that that was settled, he lifted the covers and slid under them.

Lena felt a contented little sigh escape her as he fitted his body against hers. The oxymoron that was Nico Hischier hit her again. He was big and strong, but he was so gentle and warm as he wrapped his arm around her waist over the blanket. She felt cocooned and protected. 

Cookie turned around and nuzzled his head under Nico’s hand. Chuckling, Nico scratched behind his ears and heard the purring start up again. 

“I’m glad you're home,” Lena said in that slow way people do while they’re falling asleep. 

“Me too,” he responded, tucking his nose into her hair and settling in for the night. 

Though he’d lived the past week, it still felt a little like he didn’t know how he ended up here, or like he should be dreaming. Yes, he dreamed of making love to Lena, but more often than that, he dreamed of these things: of not going to bed alone, of taking care of her, and being taken care of. Not only was he not going to bed alone, she asked him to stay. He felt comfortable holding her, and she felt comfortable enough to lean against him, letting him support her. More than anything else, it felt incredible to be genuine about his feelings and to have them lead to this moment. 

It was the best thing he could have asked for. 

The fatigue that always came with coming home from a road trip caught up with him abruptly, and before he could think about anything else, he was falling asleep. 

Lena woke before Nico did. Which wasn’t unusual. She almost always woke before anyone else in the house. No matter when she’d gone to bed, or what she’d done the day before, she was almost always up before 6:30. It’s why she’d been so shocked to find it was already 9 the morning after their portraiture session. 

Her watch told her it was twenty-two minutes past six. 

Sensing movement, Cookie stretched and put his face in hers, brushing his whiskers over her cheeks. 

She wrinkled her nose at the tickling sensation. “Okay,” she whispered as he put his wet nose to her brow and licked with the tip of his tongue, “okay.” 

Nico’s arm was still heavy around her waist, but he only stirred a little when she lifted it so she could slide out of bed. 

She fed the cat, drank a glass of water, and went back to the bedroom. 

Nico was still asleep, now sprawled on his back, legs and arms spread wide to take up as much room as possible.

The blankets only covered part of his naked torso. Allowing herself a moment, she admired him, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the relaxed set of his fingers, his slightly open mouth. He was a beautiful man. the fact he was in her bed, that he'd held her all night, made her feel as giddy as a school girl.

Sneaking back into bed was always harder than leaving it. 

She’d just managed to tuck herself into his side, resting her head on his chest, when his arm curled around her back. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said quietly. 

His lips smacked softly. “S’okay,” he mumbled. 

“Do you have practice this morning?” 

She felt him shake his head, chin tracing over the top of her hair at the movement. 

“No practice and no game?” she asked, tracing a finger up the valley between his pecs through the course hair that had been getting thicker through the years. “What are you going to do with yourself?” 

Tightening his arm around her, he nudged Lena on top. She went willingly, draping herself over him. 

“Can think of a few things.” His voice was low and sleepy, and when she looked into his face, she found his eyes were still closed.  

Wonder at how comfortable they were filled her. Of course they were — they’d known each other for more than half a decade. But all these milestones, like waking up in the same bed, were new. She’d never experienced this in a relationship before. There were no nerves eating at her stomach, and no worries about how she looked in the morning plaguing her. He’d seen her in much worse morning states before and never said a thing. It was just Nico, comfortable as always. 

Lying her head on the front of his shoulder, she listened to the steady beat of his heart and the strong rhythm of his breathing. 

That music was lulling her back to sleep when his hand slid up her back, under her sleep shirt. She didn’t know if that part was intentional or not. She supposed it didn’t matter. She still savored the feel of his calloused fingers. 

“Your skin is so soft,” he mumbled as his fingers splayed wide over her spine. 

“So is yours,” she said, adjusting a bit so she could tuck her nose into the base of his neck. He smelled the same as usual, soap and sweat, and that something cedar-y, plus a musky smell she somehow knew only came with sleep.

He chuckled and said something in German. 

“Come again?” she asked, lifting her head. 

One half of his mouth lifted in a smile, dimpling his cheek, but he didn’t offer any other explanation. 

Shaking her head, Lena rested her ear against his shoulder again, sighing when his fingers traced lazily up and down her spine.

Nico couldn’t believe this was his life. Waking up next to Lena was so good. Having her comfortable weight on top of him on a lazy morning? It was such a dream. Even the very fact that he got to touch her like this now felt like a miracle. 

Before he could think it over, his sleepy brain was running his mouth, “I can’t…” 

“You can’t?” she repeated. Her other hand came up to trace the straight line of his collar bone. 

“I can’t believe I get to touch you like this,” he said. 

She smiled and turned her face just enough to press her lips to his skin. It sent an explosion of fizzy, giddy bubbles racing through his stomach. 

“I should have told you sooner.” 

“Me too.” 

Each of them had said some variation of these same sentences each time they’d talked on the phone over the past five days.

“But we’re here now,” she said, fingers trailing over the round musculature of his shoulder and back. She felt a little amazed that she could touch him, too. She’d wanted to for so long, and now, she could. There was nothing holding her back. It felt a little like she’d dropped into a dream.

He took in a deep breath, and she loved feeling his muscles move and shift beneath her. 

“What do you have today?” he asked. 

“Nothing.” 

“Nothing?” he repeated. 

“Nothing but you,” she said, pushing herself up so she could look into his face. 

The smile he gave her was lazy and tired, but it still sent butterflies into flight in her stomach. 

Because she could, because that’s where they were now, she leaned down and kissed him. 

His other hand came up to cradle the back of her head.  

She was kissing him. In the morning. After sleeping next to her all night. Feeling his brain come to life while her sweet mouth was on his? There was nothing better. Nico wouldn't mind waking up like this every morning.

They spent a long while in a sweet, lazy exploration of each other. 

Lena worked one of her hands into his hair as she tipped to the left to deepen the kiss. 

When Nico caught her tongue, sucking gently, a soft moan fell from her mouth into his.  She'd never had someone do that before, and now couldn't imagine kissing without it. 

“I love that sound,” he mumbled, lips whispering over hers. 

She hmm’d and silenced him again with her mouth.

Though they still remained soft, their kisses grew more urgent, as did Nico’s growing erection, which pressed insistently against her thigh. 

The deep desire purring in her belly shifted into a higher gear. 

“Can I use my mouth on you?”

She'd been thinking about it for so long, imagining the pleasured noises she could pull out of him. She’d thought about it so many times while he was gone, she couldn’t wait to bring it to fruition.  The memory of the way he groaned her name when she was touching him had been the fuel for many lonely night sessions with her vibrator.

“Was?” he breathed, certain he hadn't heard her correctly. 

“Can I use my mouth on you?” She repeated, trailing kisses along his jaw for good measure.

Fuck. 

FUCK. 

Was this his real life? He pinched his side and flinched from the pain. He wasn't dreaming, then. Not that he’d really thought that. When he dreamed of her going down on him, it usually started with her lips wrapping around him, not with her asking permission. 

His eyes fluttered open to meet hers. “Has anyone ever said no?”

Her cheeks flushed. “I don't know. This is the first time I've asked. Every other guy I’ve been with requested before I could offer.”

“Did you think I would say no?”

“Maybe? Sometimes, I'm just not in the mood for stuff, you know? I don't want to just start in on something you're not ready for. That's not fair to you.”

He'd never had someone ask before, and the sweet thoughtfulness of it broke him open a little more to her. 

“Only if you want to,” he whispered, leaning up to brush his lips over hers, “and only if I can return the favor.”

Her breath hitched, and her wide eyes darted to his. 

“I’ve been thinking about how you taste since last week,” he confessed, voice gone gravely with the memory of cleaning her release off his fingers.

“Nico,” she whispered as heat pooled between her legs.

“When you sent that picture, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I wanted to do to you.”

“Oh yeah?” 

He nodded, hands sliding up her sides. Her shirt bunched atop his wrists. 

She leaned down so her lips were a breath away from his ear, “and what do you want to do to me?”

Though she had him practically panting, his voice somehow still came out a low tambour. “I want to lick you over that lace before I take it off and make you come on my tongue.”

“Oh my god,” she whispered, core throbbing at the mere thought of it. “I…” 

If someone told her, even just five days ago, that Nico Hischier had such a dirty mouth, Lena wouldn’t have believed them. He was usually so polite. She’d never even imagined him saying something like that.  

She liked this filthy-mouthed side of him she’d never seen before. Why had she waited so damn long to tell him?

Rolling them onto their sides, he pressed his lips to her neck, unable to keep his mouth off of her anymore.

“Do you want me —” her voice dropped into a moan as he pushed her onto her back, licking and sucking along the column of her throat. 

“Yes,” he growled into her skin, “so damn much.” 

“Do you want me to put it on?” she finally managed to ask, gasping the words out before he could steal her breath again.

Lifting his head, his brown eyes met hers. He had that same wide open, loving look in them. “Put what on?” 

Why would she put anything on? He was far more interested in shedding her clothes.

“The lingerie.” 

Oh. 

Well. 

That was a bit different. 

Lena watched his eyes go dark with lust. 

“You’d do that?” he whispered, touched and incredibly turned on.

Nodding, she bit her lip before deciding she could just blurt it out, “I want you to do what you wanted to, and I want to see your reaction.” 

Now that he’d brought up the idea of licking her over her underwear which, what the hell, sounded so hot she could hardly stand it, she needed to feel it. She wanted THAT to be her first experience with his mouth. 

Nico was such an excellent kisser, she knew he would be good at oral. Plus, the idea of wrapping her fingers in his hair as he went down on her? That fantasy had been in regular rotation for years. 

He paused, seemingly caught between saying yes and just continuing as they were. 

Maybe he needed a little more incentive. “What if I put it on to suck you off?” she asked, voice seductive and low in his ear. 

With a soft groan, he buried his face in her neck. He had to admit, fulfilling the initial fantasy that had flooded his mind when she sent that picture was incredibly tempting, and if it included her wearing it to go down on him? That was a fantasy in and of itself. He couldn't find his voice, but he nodded all the same. 

“Meet you in your room in five minutes?” she suggested. 

Five minutes felt like an eternity when she was under him now, but he knew they would be worth it. 

“Okay,”

A few minutes later, she knocked on his doorframe, and he spun. She had a soft looking robe on. Green with matching lace trim. 

He looked almost instantly disappointed. 

“I thought you might want to take it off,” she offered quietly, taking a few steps toward him.

He was still just in his pajama pants, the band of his boxers peeking above the waistband. God, why was that always so sexy? 

Though he appreciated the gesture, Nico shook his head. 

Stopping abruptly, Lena confirmed, “no?” 

Shaking his head again, Nico managed to clear his throat and tell her, “want you to.”

Fingers trembling with excitement, she pulled one end of the tie, slipping it from the bow. 

This was an exercise in a kind of vulnerability Lena had never experienced before. Yes, Nico was her best friend, and she trusted him with her life, but she’d never undressed in front of someone like this. This wasn’t just about seduction. This was about bearing herself to a man she loved and who she knew loved her. There was anticipation, but no nervousness, longing, but no worry. There was love and more love and more love under that. She’d never felt like that before.

This wasn’t some kind of strip tease meant to thrill. No, she was bearing a piece of her soul.

Nico found he was holding his breath and made himself pull air into his lungs. 

Lena grasped the two sides of the robe and pulled them apart until they slipped over her shoulders. The fabric puddled to the floor around her feet. 

 A noise he couldn’t control flew out of his mouth. God, if he thought she looked beautiful in the picture, it was nothing compared to this. To the reality of her standing in front of him. She was real — supple skin and hazel eyes and curves he wanted to spend his entire life traversing — right down to her hands, which were splayed over the flesh of her hips as if she didn’t know what else to do with them. 

She was…she was a goddess. He would worship her every day of the week. “You’re so beautiful, Lena,” he croaked.

“Thank you,” she said, a blush pinking her cheeks. 

“Can you —” he had to pause to clear his throat. 

She nodded encouragingly. 

“Can I see the back?” 

She let out a little giggle and turned for him, looking back over her shoulder.

The back of the bra was fairly standard - straps and a band that was secured by a row of hooks. The underwear were anything but. They cut high on her cheeks and perfectly accentuated the curvature of her hips. His jaw went slack. 

This was a better response than she could have asked for. When she’d bought this set, one of the selling points was how good the panties made her ass look. Having Nico appreciate it to the point of open mouthed silence, sent a delighted thrill through her. 

“Now you?” she said, turning back around and nodding at his pants.

Taking a deep breath, he worked his thumbs under the waistband of his pajamas. Pushing the elastic over his hips, the cotton fell down, and he stepped out of it. 

Lena let out a thick sigh, eyes roaming over him, from the bob of his Adam’s apple and flex of his stomach to the dark hair trailing from his belly button into the elastic band of his briefs and the lighter hair that crept up his thighs. She'd seen all these things before as an artist, but now, she was seeing them as a woman. She didn't have to stuff down her desire or try to channel it through her pencil. She got to admire him as a woman who wanted him. 

When their eyes met again, his were nervous, as if waiting for a verdict. Instead of saying anything, she took the few steps forward, slid her hand to the back of his neck, and nudged him down as she raised herself on tiptoe. 

Their lips met, and that feeling of rightness filled Lena again. As her tongue swept into his waiting mouth, she pressed herself against him. 

Taking the time to savor the feel of the lace beneath his palms, Nico caressed her hips slowly before sliding them around to cradle her rump. 

She broke the kiss, and his hands were suddenly sliding up her body as she lowered onto her knees in front of him. “Shit, Lena,” he breathed. 

A coy, sexy smile took over her face, and Lena leaned in to press her lips to his right thigh. The muscle jumped beneath his skin.

“Wait.” 

Pulling back to sit on her haunches, Lena looked up at him, surprised. No man had ever told her to stop when she was setting up to suck him off. 

Half of Nico’s brain was in his dick, but he needed to get this right. “I went first last time,” he said.

“It’s not like we have to take turns.” 

“I know, but I want to give first.” When she didn’t move, he added on a slightly desperate, “please.” 

She nodded, and he took her hands to pull her to her feet. They turned so her back was facing the bed, and he smiled indulgently at the way she had to do a little hop to sit on the mattress. 

“Lay back,” he said. 

She scooted up to the pillows and did as he instructed.

She was a fantasy in his dark sheets. 

Biting his lip, he paused to admire her for a moment before climbing onto the bed and covering her body with his. As their mouths met in a passionate, desperate kiss, he settled between her legs. He rutted his hips into her, and she moaned. The sound made him heady, and he did it again just to hear it. If they kept that up, he would be begging her to let him fuck her right then. But he knew from fingering her the week before that she would need to be relaxed and stretched a bit before she could take him comfortably. Plus, now that she was in his bed in this lingerie, he had to bring his desires to life. And he really fucking wanted his mouth on her. 

He broke from the kiss and trailed his lips over her chin and down her neck and chest. Too impatient to wait, his mouth found her pebbled nipple, teasing it through the fabric of her bra. 

Lena had never felt anything so hot in her life. Her hands wove into his hair, and she moaned. “Nico. Oh my god.”

He moved on too quickly, but before she could complain, his lips were skimming over her stomach, down to the band of her panties. The memory of his confession crashed into her mind. 

I want to lick you over that lace before I take it off and make you come on my tongue.

She writhed beneath him.

He nosed her mound gently, playfully, and glanced up to her face. “This is still okay?” 

“Yes!” she hissed, voice pulled tight. “Please, Nico.”

Who was he to deny what she wanted? 

Spreading her thighs with his hands, he leaned in and trailed his nose up the gusset of her underwear. His mouth started to water. Shit, she smelled so good. 

He couldn’t hold back any longer. His tongue met the lace, licking a slow stripe up the center. He could almost taste her through the fabric. The sweet, tangy flavor he'd been craving for a week was so close. 

Lena could almost feel him. There was pressure, and the heat from his breath was there, but the full stimulation of his tongue wasn't. Experiencing him like this was so hot, the anticipation of feeling him built and built until it felt like she may just explode. She let out a wanton moan of his name.

He teased her until her hips were grinding up, and her breathing was coming out in hot puffs. He teased her until he couldn’t take it anymore. 

She whined when he pulled back but cut the noise off when his fingers slipped into the band of her underwear and started pulling it down. Desperate to please, she lifted her hips, allowing him to peel them from her body more easily.

He took his time, running his hands down her legs, and when the fabric was free, he brought it to his nose just to work himself up a little more. His dick twitched.

“Fuck,” she whispered. Who knew her polite, cheerful Nico had this side to him? 

He almost wished he was still wearing pants so he could slip her panties into his pocket. Instead, he tossed them over the side of the bed. He’d pick them up later. 

Settling between her legs again, he looked up to meet her gaze over the expanse of her body. Propped up on her elbows, her chest rose and fell, testing the limits of her bra with every inhale. He could hardly stand it.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

She blushed. How did he know exactly what to say? Could he read her thoughts or something? 

“You’ll tell me if you don’t like something,” he verified, “or if you want something else?” 

Only after she nodded did he get to work, plunging his face between her thighs like he’d been dreaming of for years. 

A sense of deep satisfaction rumbled in his chest when she cried out.

She tasted the same, like he remembered, and better: sweet and tangy and fresh. He couldn't get enough. He licked and kissed and teased and tasted.

Falling back against his pillows, Lena moaned his name. 

Her left hand found its way into his hair again, weaving the long, soft strands through her fingers. The reality of this fantasy coming true made her shake as much as his clever tongue did. 

He moved to lap at her entrance, which was not where she wanted him at all.

“Nico, I –” her voice cut off with a moan as his nose nudged her clit. 

Fuck it. Tightening her fingers into a fist, she tugged on his hair, guiding his mouth where she needed it.

He grunted into her as his lips surrounded her throbbing pearl, so eager for his attention.

“There,” her voice was a breathy pant that made his heart race, “right there, Nico.” 

Hands tightening on her thighs, he feasted. 

Her hips shifted, and even though it made it near impossible for him to breathe, he kept on, intent on his mission. 

“Suck.” 

It took half a second for his brain to understand her word as a command. He obeyed, and the groan she let out made him light headed. Or maybe that was the lack of oxygen. It didn’t matter. There was no way he was stopping until she was falling apart beneath him. 

He thought briefly about using his fingers, but no. He wanted to make her come like this first. 

His lips and tongue continued working their magic on her. Pressure built and tingled in her pelvis until it spread, shooting down her legs and making her toes curl. 

“Nico,” she gasped. 

When he glanced up, he found her right hand cupping her breast, thumb and forefinger teasing the peak of her nipple through the lace of her bra. The sight of it — of her adding to her own pleasure — made his eyes roll back. 

The vibration of his groan lit her on fire. It was the final push she needed to tip over the edge. 

She crashed in an explosion of color and sound as his eager mouth kept working, sending wave after wave of ecstasy rushing through her body.

The pleasured noises she chanted were the most beautiful music he’d ever heard. She pulsed under his mouth, and he lapped at her release. He wanted to drink from her fountain for the rest of his life. 

Coming back to herself, Lena pushed him away from her core before the overstimulation could turn into pain. 

The sight of him — eyes hooded with desire, mouth and chin wet with her orgasm — made her moan again as he pushed himself up. 

Nico felt drunk. Drunk on her pleasure and the fact that he’d been the one to pull it out of her. 

He licked his lips, pulling more of her release into his mouth before wiping his face with the back of his hand.

He lay next to her and slid his hand over her stomach, letting it come to rest comfortably cupping her breast.

Lena was flat on her back, trying to get her breathing back to a normal rhythm. 

“Oh my god,” she finally managed to gasp. 

“It was good?” he asked. 

“Yes!” she smacked his chest when she said it. “I don’t… I mean…” 

He smiled as she tried to find the words. 

Turning her head, she met his gaze. “I never knew you were so nasty.” 

“I wasn’t mean,” he defended, hurt that she was accusing him. 

“No, like kinky.” 

He hated this part of speaking English. Why did so many words have so many different meanings that they already had words for?

“It’s kinky that I like the way you smell and taste?” 

“I’ve never — I mean no one has ever…”

“It was my first time with you,” he said, nuzzling his nose into her neck. “I wanted to savor it.”

“Speaking of, I think it’s your turn,” she said coyly, pressing a hand to his shoulder. She shoved, and he flopped onto his back without protest. 

She climbed over him, straddling his torso. 

Finally feeling the weight of her on top of him was heaven. She was tethering him down to earth. 

Her hot wetness against his skin made him twitch. He couldn't wait to bury himself inside her. Just imagining how tight and wet she'd feel around him made him moan.  

“I haven't even touched you yet,” she smirked. 

“I want you so bad.” The words slipped out in German. He started to translate, but she cut him off. 

“I got the idea,” she said seductively as she leaned down to kiss him. She could taste herself on his lips and tongue as she did her best to work him up with her mouth alone.  

The way he moaned sent a bolt of desire through her. Unable to stop herself, she rutted her hips against the hard wall of his stomach. 

He choked out a curse, head tipping back into the pillows. 

Taking advantage, she connected her mouth to his throat, feeling his Adams apple move under her lips as he swallowed hard. 

“Lena.” 

She moved to the other side of his neck. 

His hands slipped to her hips, desperate to touch her. 

As she slid down his body, her core passed over his, causing gentle pressure on his cock through the confining material of his boxers. His hips thrust up, desperate for more. 

Bracing on his chest, Lena pushed herself up and ground her hips down on his. 

Lashes fluttering, his eyes rolled back, and he gripped her hips with more ferocity. 

She’d never had this kind of power over a man before. It made her heady with the want to tease him until he begged.

“Lena,” he groaned, almost as if in pain. 

“Hmm?”

“I’m —” he gasped as she reached around, unclasped her bra, and took it off. She threw it across the room.

“I’m gonna come if you keep doing that,” he warned as she rocked against him.

“Is that so bad?” she asked, her voice thrown into mock innocence. 

“I — fuck.” She was riling him up and he loved it. “Want to feel your mouth,” he finally managed to say. 

“What if I want to hear you beg?”

His eyes shot open, pupils blown wide. Her tone was playful, as were her eyes, and mirth dripped from her smile. He knew if he said he didn’t like it, she’d stop right away. Except, with her on top of him, he found he was ready to do whatever she wanted. 

“Lena.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Fuck, Lena. Please.” If she wanted him to beg, he’d beg. 

“Please what?” she asked innocently, lowering her mouth over his nipple. He twitched against her as her tongue circled the small peak before flicking over the top of it. 

His breath practically huffed out of his lungs. 

“I want your mouth,” he groaned. “Please.”

“You do have very good manners,” she complimented, pushing herself up again. 

They were going to go out the window if she didn't do something soon. “Please.”

If he didn’t know her sliding further down his body likely meant he would feel her mouth soon, he would have whined at the loss of stimulation. 

Once she found herself over his legs, Lena leaned down to kiss that trail of dark hair that wound its way down the center of his abs and dipped into the waistband of his boxer briefs. 

“Can I take these off?” she asked as her fingers tucked under the elastic. 

“Please,” bracing on his heels, he thrust his hips up so she could remove them, breathing a sigh of relief when his cock sprung free of the confining material. 

“How do you like it?” she asked, hands caressing up his thighs. 

He gulped. “I —” 

“Or do you just want me to start, and you can tell me if you don’t like something?” 

He nodded vigorously. The thing he wanted most was for her to just put her mouth on him. He’d dreamed of it so many times, and now, here she was, leaning over him. 

The guttural groan that tore from his chest as Lena wrapped her lips around the head of his cock surprised them both. Her eyes shot up to look at his face, making sure he wasn’t in pain. His eyes were glued to her, wide with adoration and lust. The sight of her with her lips around him — he could die a happy man. 

“You feel so good,” he groaned. 

She loved that when he got worked up, his accent thickened.

 One of her hands was braced on his thigh, while the other swept up to cradle his balls, stroking the sensitive skin with her thumb.

The only thing Nico could do was chant her name. Every time he tried to say something else, she did something new, hollowing her cheeks, or sensuously licking the tip, or moving her mouth to the underside of his cock so her open lips traced the vein there, the tip of her tongue whispering between them. 

When her lips wrapped around him again, he was gone. “Gonna –-”  he only managed to get that one word out before he was exploding into her hot, heavenly mouth.

She squeaked in surprise but relished sucking his release off and feeling it slide down her throat. 

She lay beside him, watching Nico gasping in breaths, contented to have brought out this side of him. 

“Holy shit,” he said. 

“It was good?” she asked, repeating his earlier question and trying not to giggle. 

Turning his head, he glanced at her, one eyebrow raised. 

Before either of them could respond, her stomach grumbled loudly. 

Her eyes widened, and her hand flew to cover it, “Sorry, I’ve usually eaten by this time.”

“You don't need to apologize,” he said, laughing. 

“Why aren’t you all grumbly?” she asked. 

“I…ate a protein bar while you were getting changed,” he admitted. 

“You – what? And you didn't even think to share?” she demanded, playfully shoving away from him. “Some boyfriend you are.”

He smiled at being called her boyfriend,  even through the insult. 

“Sharing your food is like boyfriend 101.”

“I did order breakfast,” he offered. 

“When?”  

“Last night. It should be here in,” he glanced at the clock on his nightstand, “fifteen minutes. I kind of forgot how early you wake up.”

“Nico Hischier,” she said, voice full of teasing admonition as she crawled over him, “did you plan to seduce me this morning?”

He grinned, and she laughed as he pulled her down. She bounced on his chest. “Maybe I did. Aren't you glad I at least planned ahead?”

Pulling back to look into his face, her smile was soft and full of love. “Yes,” she said, leaning down to kiss him. “Yes, I am.” 

While waiting for breakfast to arrive, they made out, slowly and passionately, hands tracing each others bodies with a reverent tenderness Lena had always dreamed of. 

He was starting to stiffen up against her thigh again. It seemed impossible he could be nearly ready to go so soon after coming. He really did have the body of a God. 

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, and he pulled away reluctantly. 

“That’s breakfast,” he said. 

“Guess we should go get it,” she said, though she didn’t make any moves to get off of him. 

“I’ll go,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to her pouty, over-kissed mouth, “you stay here.” 

She watched as he threw on a new pair of boxers, some joggers, and a t-shirt before strolling out of the apartment. 

“Have you seen my underwear?” she asked when he came back through the door, a bag from her favorite bagel shop in one hand, and two coffees in a carrier in the other. 

“Hu?” he asked, slipping the coffees onto the table. 

“My underwear,” she said. “I couldn’t find them in your room.” 

“Weird,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t pick up on the hot flush of his cheeks. 

“Do you have them?” she asked. When all he responded with was a non-committal grunt, she surmised, “they’re in your pocket, aren’t they?”

He couldn’t keep the little smile off of his face. 

She rolled her eyes and took the iced coffee. “It’s a good thing I love you.” 

His smile grew brighter, and he handed her her sandwich. 

“No one’s ever made me feel like you do, Nico.”

 He’d just been telling her he felt like he won the lottery, and she wanted to assure him she felt the same. 

“Like no ones made you come?” he asked, licking ketchup off his thumb.

“No. Well, I mean, yes. You’re better because you listen —”

A smug smile took over his face. 

“I mean that you accept me. Like all of me. That hadn’t really happened in my life before you.” 

His brows shot up.

“I don’t think my family really knew what to do with me,” she said, picking up the other half of her ham and egg sandwich. 

“What do you mean?” 

“They’re all sporty, you know, and I’m…not. I’ve always been this creative free spirit, and I think my parents were at a bit of a loss when I was so bad at skating and said I wanted to take drawing lessons instead.”

“They love your art, though.” Nico had met her parents, and both of them seemed extremely proud of her. 

“They’re better now, but when I was in primary school, and even up to the point that you came in, it always felt a bit like they resented that I had these talents.” 

“Resented?” he asked. 

“Yeah, like they wished I was more like the rest of the family.”

His brows drew together. 

“And don’t get me started on the boys on the team.” 

“Everyone really liked you. I think every guy on the team had a crush on you.” All the more reason to feel contented he had her now.

“Listen, you don’t get it.”

“Don’t I?” 

“No. You were always good at sport and popular, right?” 

He made a non-commital noise. Popularity in North America was very different from how he grew up. There was much more comparison than he ever experienced. 

“I was always the artsy girl in a place that worships sports.”

“But you came to sports?”

“Yeah,” one of her shoulders shrugged up, “I came to support my friends, but they hardly ever came to things to support me. I remember Robbie told me once, ‘I don’t have enough culture for that,’ when I invited him to an art show I had some pieces in.” 

Robbie had been their goalie, who had brought Lena into the friend group. He and Jessica were now married and had several children. 

Nico’s heart broke a little. 

“And then you came in and not only did you not treat me like the only thing I was good for was being looked at, you knew some things about art, and you actually talked to me about it.”

In fact, She still vividly remembered her first encounter with Nico. 

She’d been sitting on the refreshments counter at the rink, drawing in her ever-present sketchbook while Jessica puttered around the tiny kitchen. He’d walked up to her, asked if he could see, and said, “that’s very good,” when she showed him.

She’d blushed and thanked him, and he asked where she learned to draw. 

Jessica had interjected then, bragging about Lena’s painting skills, and telling him he should come see them at the school the next time he was there.

He’d then given Lena his trademark dimpled smile and said he would. 

She was used to this. Boys said this all the time, but then would never actually show. 

Lo and behold, three days later, she was shocked to find Nico outside the art classroom after school, studying one of her paintings Mr. Jacobsen had hung in the hallway. 

“Hey Nico.”

He startled a little, “hi, Lena. You did this, right?” 

She nodded. 

“It’s very good. I like the shape,” he said, then frowned, shaking his head slightly, “not the shape. The,” he gestured with his hands as if dividing the three sections of the painting, the sky, forrest and field. “What’s the word for this?” he asked, repeating the gesture. 

“The composition?” she guessed. 

“Yes, the composition,” he said, relieved that she understood what he was trying to say. “I like that the sky is bigger. It feels like that here.” 

“Thank you.” It was exactly what she’d been aiming for. 

“You’re very talented,” he said, turning to look at her. He met her eyes and smiled. 

“Thank you,” she said again, wishing she had some other way to respond to his compliments. She didn’t have much experience with the nice, cute boy in school talking to her about art and pulling out words like composition and knowing how to use them properly in a sentence. 

It had started their friendship. It was amazing how that simple interaction of him following through made her feel. Not only seen in so many ways, but also that it kicked the budding crush she had on him into hyperdrive. She’d never met another man like him. 

Pink splotches rose high on his cheeks, and he gave her a chagrined smile. 

“What?” she asked, laughing. 

“I didn’t know much about art,” he said. “I went home and looked it up so I could talk to you about it.”

His confession made her heart burst, “really?” 

He nodded, “you were passionate about it, and I wanted to know you, so I had to learn so we could talk.”

“Nico, I can’t believe you did that for me.” 

He blushed and smiled some more. 

“How are you even real?” she asked, reaching out to run her fingers through his hair. 

It called up memories of not that long ago when she had her fingers tangled in his hair for a different reason. “Real?” he asked. 

“You’re like a dream,” she said, hand slipping to cup his jaw. “Kind and thoughtful and dedicated, and handsome to boot. It’s like you’re too perfect to be real.” 

He laughed, loud and open. He couldn’t think of anyone further from perfect than himself. 

After their meal and brushing their teeth, Nico spent some more time between her legs, eating a second and third breakfast, using his beautiful hands to aid in bringing her to a crest twice more. 

“Fuck,” she breathed as he lay next to her, “how did you get so good at that?” 

He laughed, wiping his face with his hand. “I don’t know. I listen.” 

“You listen?” she repeated. 

“Yeah, you make this little ‘uh,’” he imitated a high pitched grunt, “noise when you feel good, so I do whatever I just did again when you make it.” 

Rolling onto her side, she looked at him, “I do?” 

He nodded. 

“When did you notice that?” 

“Last week. You told me what to do and then made that noise when I did it. So I tired it again,” he said with a shrug and a secret little smile.

She knew Nico was used to noticing things other people didn’t. It’s what made him a good hockey player. He noticed and noted things about players and teams and used them to put together his best game possible. He even noticed things about her - like the fact that she liked pistachio flavored things, and liked to paint on the right side of the living room and that she liked a margarita. She couldn't remember ever telling him these things, but he had pistachio creamer in his fridge, moved the living room furniture around, and brought her a margarita whenever they went out together. 

“You’re something else, Nico Hischier,” Lena said, bringing her hand up to the side of his face. 

He smiled, nuzzling his cheek into her palm. 

“What do you want?” he asked. He wanted her, but if she wanted more foreplay, he would give it to her. He just wanted her to be happy. 

Scooting closer, she slung a leg over his hip. She held eye contact as she said, “I want you to make love to me, Nico.” 

His hand slid onto her thigh, up to her hip, and over the curve of her waist in a reverent exploration. “How do you want it? Like, what position?” he asked. 

“Missionary,” she said, her fingers tracing over his collar bone and onto his chest. “I want to see you.” 

It struck him as a tender thing for her to request, and he was glad for it. He wanted to see her, too. They could try more intense positions later. For now, that was how it needed to be. 

“Where are you going?” she asked when he rolled away from her. 

He glanced back at her with a cheeky smile. “Eager,” he teased with a lingering scan of her body as he reached into the drawer of his bedside table. 

She snorted. 

“I’m getting a condom,” he said, holding up the foil wrapped package once he’d dug one out. 

“Oh,” she said. “I have an IUD if you don’t want to.” 

His next breath came shallow. 

“I mean, unless you’re not clean. I haven’t had unprotected sex since I was last tested.”

He didn’t like to think of her having any sex at all unless it was with him. “We get tested at the start of every season,” he said. “All clear. I haven’t had sex since then.” 

“Then,” she reached forward to pluck the condom from his fingers, relieved she hadn’t been the only celibate one for the last three months, “I don’t think we need to use one.” She tossed it behind him. It landed on the nightstand, skidded across the surface, and fell somewhere they could find later. “I don’t want anything between us.”

Her eyes were dark with desire, and he felt it through his whole body. 

“You’re incredible,” he said reverently, bringing his body next to hers again. 

She reached between them to stroke his erection and his eyes fluttered closed. Feeling her hand reminded him how quickly he’d come in her mouth. “I’m scared I won’t last,” he admitted. 

He’d dreamed of being inside her for so long, gotten himself off to the thought of it so many times, he might just explode the second it became real. Reality shortening his fuze to next to nothing.

“Nico.” 

He met her gaze. 

“I don’t care how long you last.” Lena was struck once again with how handsome he was. Those big, brown doe eyes and pouty mouth. How was this her life? 

He scoffed. 

“I’m serious,” she said, giving him a look that told the truth. “I just want to feel you.” 

He looked almost as if he might cry. 

“And I know if you do come too fast, you’ll make it up to me. You’ve already given me four orgasms and it’s not even ten in the morning.” 

He chuckled, glad for her reassurance and humor. 

“Is this helping?” she asked, continuing at the same, gentle pace, “or no?” 

He nodded. It probably was helping - getting him used to the feel of her.

“Do you want me to keep going?” 

He shook his head, finally getting up the strength to pull her hand away. They’d waited long enough. 

Lena rolled onto her back, and he followed, bracing himself on his forearms above her. 

As he reached down go guide himself, Nico pulled in a deep breath. Slow. They were going to take this slow, and everything was going to be fine.

Even nestling his tip against her entrance sent sparks pinging through his system. 

He tore his eyes from where their bodies would soon be joined and looked into her face, “this is okay?”

She nodded.

“You’ll tell me if —” 

She leaned up to cut him off with a kiss. “Make love to me, Nico,” she whispered as she settled back against the pillows. 

And so, he eased forward. 

Her hips tipped to his, a pleasured sigh escaping her lips. There was a stretch, but he’d prepped her so well, there was no pain. 

She met his gaze as his hips settled against hers. He was looking at her with all this love and adoration. No one had ever looked at her like that but him. Reaching up, she swept some of his hair out of his eyes, only to have it fall right back. 

A laugh chuffed out of him as if to agree that was a losing battle.  

“You can move,” she said after a few more moments of his trembling stillness. 

He swallowed and shifted his hips back. 

She took in a sharp breath. “Oh.”

“Feels good?” his voice was tight with restraint. 

The fullness of him was good, but feeling him move inside her was better. “Yes,” she moaned. 

A thousand little dreams came true.  

The sight of her beneath him was a replay of so many fantasies, his resolve was unraveling too fast. He knew she meant what she said about him coming too soon, but he wanted to be good for her, and, dammit, he wanted to feel her fall apart around him. He slammed his eyes closed. 

“How does it,” she gasped as he withdrew to the tip, “feel?” 

“You feel so good, Lena,” he panted. “You’re so tight.”

“Or you’re so thick,” she countered, back arching as he thrust back onto her, a little harder.

That’s when she heard it, that little grunt. It was something her body seemed to do naturally. She would never have noticed it if Nico hadn’t pointed it out. And he’d picked up on it almost immediately, filing the information in his beautiful brain to help bring her pleasure. What had she ever done to deserve this man?

Nico risked looking at her. She was beautiful every time he saw her, but this took the cake.

“What do you need? What will make you come?” 

Of course Nico was mature enough to communicate and know he needed her help to get her there.

“Keep going,” she panted as her hand slipped between them in search of her clit. Nico felt so good. So incredible inside her, but she'd never been able to get off by penetration alone. 

His jaw dropped as her walls fluttered around him. “Fuck can't do that,” he groaned. 

“Need it,” she whispered, pressing purposeful circles over the sensitive bundle. 

He moaned her name and buried his face in her neck. She felt so much better than he'd even fantasized. 

She made a noise that made his hair stand on end. God, how was he going to get through this without embarrassing himself when she sounded like that? Like more than all of his dreams combined?

“Nico,” she moaned his name the same way, and he felt his resolve crumble a little bit more. 

Pulling from every self discipline lesson he'd learned in hockey and beyond, he stilled, reminding his body his mind was more powerful. 

Once he had some semblance of control back, his competitive determination snapped into place, and his desire to please her took the drivers seat. He needed to see her come beneath him.

“Can you…” she trailed off before demanding, “Nico, harder.”

He braced lifted himself higher and drove his cock into her with more ferocity, grunting with each show of strength. 

“Oh my god. Nico, yes!” Feeling his strong hips drive into her over and over again made her back bow.

Sweat broke out along his hairline just as much from exertion as the restraint he was clinging to. 

“I’m almost there.”

“Let go,” he growled. 

Her mouth dropped open. She never expected to hear Nico order her around at all, but hearing the gruff command in SwissGerman sent her body into a frenzy. She had no idea what he said, but it was the hottest fucking thing she'd ever heard. 

Her hips rose to meet his, and he could still feel her fingers between them, working for her own high. 

He watched pleasure roll across her face and continued on.  “Lena,” his resolve was slipping, and he heard desperation creep into his voice. “Come.”  

That one word order — she knew it had to be — tipped her over the precipice, and her body seized.

Feeling her walls clench around him pulled a shout from his gut. Fuck, she felt so good. As he continued, the rapid pulsating began. 

“Lena,” it came out a desperate moan.

This was…she was… “Lena.”

Careening over the edge with a shouted, “Fuck!” he flooded her in a haze of bliss. 

Afterglow turned his limbs to jelly, and he collapsed atop her. 

Walking to his locker the next morning, Nico tried his best to be as inconspicuous as possible. If he didn’t draw attention to the hickeys on his neck and chest, no one would notice. He’d just change with his chest facing the stall. 

“Ooh!” Dawson called out as soon as he’d stripped off his shirt, “Cap finally got laid!”

He went rigid. The memory of Lena’s nails raking over his back as she unraveled beneath him for the fourth - or maybe it was the fifth - time flew into his mind. 

He'd nearly howled like a wolf when she'd done it. The pain, together with the pleasure of her walls constricting around him – not to mention the very reality that he was the one making her come so hard – made him see stars. 

“Whose the lucky lady?” Jack asked, sauntering over, “was it that blonde from the bar? I bet it was the blonde.” 

He felt himself snort. “No,” he said, voice louder than he expected. Of course it wasn’t the blonde from the bar. Some girl he’d just met could never compare.

“Who was it then? We all know it wasn’t Lena.” 

Nico couldn’t help the smug little smile that spread over his lips. 

Jonas picked up on it right away. “it was Lena wasn’t it?” he asked, eyes going wide. 

Feeling himself blush, Nico tried and failed to keep the grin off his face.

“It was!” Jack exclaimed. “You finally got the balls!” he clapped a hand on Nicos shoulder and spun him around, taking in the marks on his chest and neck. “Looks like she enjoyed herself at least!” he said with a laugh.

“Aw man,” Dawson moaned, sinking onto the bench at his stall. “Why are all the hot girls taken?” 

“You didn’t seriously think you had a chance with Lena, did you?” Curtis chirped, one sarcastic eyebrow raised. 

Dawson shrugged, feeling his face and neck get hot. 

“Didn’t you see the way she and Nico have been eye fucking each other the past four months? Neeks was practically on his knees at Halloween.” 

“I was not,” Nico defended. 

“No,” Jack broke in, “you were. You were practically drooling, to be honest.” 

Coming home after practice, the apartment smelled heavenly. Like spicy sausage and something creamy. Lena was cooking. 

He followed his nose to the kitchen and found her at the stove in a pair of running shorts and a gray Devils t-shirt, stirring whatever she had in the sauce pot. 

As he watched, she brought the spoon to her mouth, tipped her head to the side as she tasted, then reached for the salt. She shook some in before stirring and repeating the process.

She must have deemed it done because she set the spoon down and flipped off the burner. She grabbed some hot pads and lifted the pot off the stove. 

A yelp escaped her mouth when Lena turned to find Nico in the doorway, looking at her. She nearly dropped the whole pot of sauce. 

 “Oh my God! Why do you do that?” she demanded, managing to set the pot back on the stove. 

An amused smile lifted his mouth, dimpling one cheek more than the other. “Do what?” 

“You keep just showing up in the kitchen without any warning!” she said, flapping a hot pad in his direction, “and it scares the hell out of me when I turn around.” 

“I just get too distracted to say hello,” he admitted. 

“Distracted?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, you’re…” he paused, gesturing to her as he tried to find the right words. “You’re so pretty it steals my thoughts sometimes.”

She blushed. 

“That time I came in when you had that pink underwear on, I thought I might faint.”

She rolled her eyes. 

“I’m serious, Lena,” he said, finally stepping in so he could put his hands on her waist. The fact that he could touch her like this now was still banging pots and pans around his brain each time he did it.

“You thought you might faint?” she repeated. “that seems a little dramatic, Nico.” 

He shrugged, “it was like this stolen moment.”

“What?” 

He paused, working his thumbs under the shirt hanging loose on her petite frame. He loved that she’d started wearing his shirts.

“I loved you for so long, and it was like this little, secret gift.” His thumbs drew circles on her skin as he thought through the words, “it was like I was seeing you like I might if we were together, and I just couldn’t…I couldn’t bear to say anything because it would break it.”

“I thought you were shocked at my thighs,” she blurted, effectively running the moment. What he was saying was so incredibly sweet, but him bringing up that moment brought her straight back. 

He laughed quietly. “I was shocked at your thighs. I don’t think I’d ever seen you in your underwear.” 

“I mean…I thought you didn’t like them,” she said quietly, hoping he didn’t think she was fishing for compliments. The way he’d tenderly kissed her there the night before told her she’d been wrong. 

His gaze grew soft, “you’re so beautiful, Lena. How could you think that?” 

One of her shoulders shrugged up. “I’ve never really liked them.”

His hand slid down over her hip to tenderly grip the flesh, “I love them,” he said, leaning in closer to nuzzle his nose against hers. “I especially like what’s between them.” 

“You’re insatiable,” she teased, even as her heart fluttered. It was a strange thing to have her insecurities turned inside out so easily. 

“Can you blame me?” he asked, lips whispering over hers, “when I’ve wanted you for so long, and now,” he slid his other hand to her other thigh, and tightened his fingers, nudging her to jump. She did, and he moved to cup her rear to hold her up as her ankles hooked around his waist. “Now I have you?” The truth in his statement, along with the feel of her body pressed against his, made him a little breathless.

The steps they’d taken to get here were clear, and she followed them again and again in her mind, but in moments like this, it still felt like a dream. Instead of answering, she kissed him.

They’d kissed a lot now, but it still felt so new that each time she initiated, each time she caught his mouth, and especially each time her tongue brushed against his, his knees went a little weak. 

Stumbling just slightly, he backed up and ran into the fridge. The bottles in the door clinked and rattled in protest. 

The sauce and baked potatoes were long forgotten as he carried her to the bedroom.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Playlist

To read all my fics, check out my Fanfiction Masterlist

[kaysshifting]

using fear to shift

hi everyone! so, last night while i was attempting to shift, i had something happen that had happened once before.

seemingly out of nowhere, my heart started beating insanely fast, nearly pounding out of my chest. my anxiety skyrocketed, and i started thinking of all the scary things that are going to happen in my dr (eg: a literal war). i tried to focus on the positive, and, with my mind racing, was only able to repeat one affirmation “i am in my dr” (hindsight, totally would’ve done other ones, but yk). i also felt like my surroundings had changed, but not what were focusing on rn. this had happened one other time, about two months or so ago, when i feel i was closest to shifting, but i ended up opening my eyes on the brink of what i believe is something good happening. now, ive seen many people say that shifting feels like nothing, and i have no doubt this is true, so why this happened to me (and maybe others. also, side note, please lmk if anyone knows why this is), i have no idea. but anyways, i was going to make a post asking for help, what i should do, etc, but as i thought about it, i came up with a solution, simple as it may be.

use that fear to shift.

yea, it seems like it can be really scary, but idk, isn’t that a good way to plant yourself in your dr? like, being able to feel the weight of the situation or emotions that you’re going to feel there?

embrace that fear, let yourself feel it, because, unless you script out whatever bad thing is causing this fear to happen, it’s real. it’s going to happen. you’re going to feel it, watch it, hear it, etc etc.

let yourself get caught up in the emotion of the moment, let your mind think of all the details, because what can ground you better than being caught up in the moment and realizing that all of this is real?

[transmutationisms]

have you seen the articles on ai supposedly eating up tons of water a day on continuous use? bc ive only seen those articles circulate in spaces where they also think ai doesnt have a soul and is stealing art so. i was wondering if you had any thoughts. i tried to go through and compare them w the water usage of other common things (ie normal office laptops, planes, etc) but stats of this kind isnt really my strong suit

to my knowledge, those articles are true, but a bit misleading in that they don't tend to discuss the context (resource use for computing in general). i think the implicit argument is that, when it's 'ai' using water, this is a particular travesty because 'ai' is particularly stupid / useless / unethical. which is not really a good way to frame this discussion because it evades a broader conversation about resource use and technology. i think the tech sector is like the meat industry in that the current consumption levels by a very small number of wealthy westerners are simply unsustainable and will not scale; that doesn't mean that in a communist future no computers or animal foods will exist, but the idea that it's normal to eat meat daily or replace a smartphone every 24 months or whatever is pretty blatantly predicated on imperial relations of exploitation and resource extraction.

so just to say that i don't know what is the place of 'ai' in a just and sustainable degrowth communism, but determining that requires a much broader conversation about technology and access to it. it's silly to act like 'ai' is uniquely a problem in terms of the tech sector's resource consumption (i think people are modelling this on the wave of similr articles about cryptocurrency, but many of those were also silly and the ones that weren't, were pointing out that crypto mining requires massive amounts of redundant work to be done, and in that sense actually is more wasteful than other comtech).

i'm also not sure that the comparisons to, like, pouring out a bottle of water are accurate because can't the cooling water be reused? i don't know enough about data facility practices to answer that though lol

[filurig]

a guy ive had in mind for a whileee its a crime i havent actually made an oc of my faeries yet so this guy!! this guy is actually the faerie that provides folke with funky fantasy hrt. more on them (and a bit about faeries) under the cut...

krillimir, or as they're known to many non-faeries, (spider's web) glasswing, is a rather newly adult faerie, having emerged about 3 years ago from their pupae. a bit of a free spirit in comparison to other faeries, they hail from the Hemarikkit Till colony to the south of vätterunda, perhaps the largest colony in the area with its main structures occupying a sunlit forest grove. due to the size and relatively stable nature of the colony, there was not a lot of pressure/demand on newly emerged faeries to take up a specific role, and krillimir preferred to keep their options open and thus chose to identify as a generalist.

generalist faeries can kind of take on less specific work than other faerie genders usually do, and especially work which involves collaboration with other species, and curious about the world outside of the colony, krillimir applied to be a participant in the colony's medical program - basically all faerie colonies have a medical program which involves a collaboration with the area's local tomtar, who will provide them with illusory magic to maintain their settlements and keep them hidden/protected. in return, the faeries offer their faerie dust, which can be finely tuned to affect an organism's hormone levels (as well as some other biochemicals) - this of course can be used to treat certain conditions, or as a way to alleviate pain, etc.

gullmar, who is folke's "tomte uncle" in a way, ended up visiting the Hemarikkit Till colony in search of a faerie that could help with folke's Trans Gender Blues (aka: provide him with hrt, after gullmar realised that folke was trans) and the freshly emerged krillimir would be assigned to him. due to the nature of the assignment, krillimir would just be permanently assigned to gullmar and comes by the granholm residence once every few months to readjust folke's hormone levels to the proper ones when the T levels start to fall off. while gullmar can find the faerie a bit neurotic and too energetic, their relationship grows to become amicable - a part of gullmar probably feels a fatherly instinct towards them hehe.

some extra faerie stuff i thought about making this guy so ill include:

faeries do not have a directly "spoken" language like we do, and communicate mostly through pheromones, body gestures and sounds like squeaking, trilling and hissing. they can communicate with other species through their pheromones, but as they communicate with said species in the target's language, things like names are often just directly translated. "krillimir" means "spider's web glass wing". how do we have the "romanization" of their name then? Well through some convoluted shenanigans. basically - tomtar have an anda-powered ability to learn the language of other species. with enough exposure and socialisation they will just naturally begin to gain an understanding of that language, and their ability has led them to be able to learn faerie language, especially helped by it also existing in a written form. while faeries don't speak this written language, it is how they conceptualise more complex ideas internally (the internal voice so to speak) - with the tomte ability, they can somewhat approximate what the language would sound like if spoken - at least filtered through the tomte brain. its most definitely not 100% accurate to what it would sound like though but most faeries accept it as close enough. this probably makes no sense but erm it sorta makes sense to me. LOL. but it means that most species that haven't learn to read faerie will only hear the literal translation when a faerie introduces themself, and thus many call krillimir by glasswing for short.

krillimir is a "generalist", which is one of many faerie genders. i made a post about it a while back! they go by they/them but generally doesn't mind he/she either.

faerie clothing is generally made of a fabric woven together by silk produced by them themselves - this silk is mainly produced by broodtenders or generalists. they also have a special way of "tanning" leaves, ending up with them having leather-like properties, which is part of what krillimir's outfit is made out of there! very popular reccuring symbols in their fabric design are "eye" "mimicry" and sometimes patterns which mimic some other animal/creature.

[vitaminseetarot]

Back-to-Back PAC Part 1: What is Ending For You? 🌹🔥🌃

Hey, y'all, I'm back for another pick a card reading in time for the end of 2024. I thought I'd make it a little more interesting by having two back-to-back readings, so stay tuned for tomorrow as part 2 rolls out!

Pick any one of the three images above for your reading:

Pile 1 - Sapphire Rose Pile 2 - Carnelian Flame Pile 3 - Amethyst Sky

Pile 1: Sapphire Rose

10 of Pentacles (Rx), Queen of Cups, III Empress, 10 of Swords; Treasure Island, Desert: Vision Quest; "just cuz they put a square on your head doesn't mean you're not still in school"; "Live a vibrant and colorful life despite the circumstances"

Hey there pile 1! I see that for you 2024 was not the start of chaos and challenge but a mere continuation. I feel a good deal of exhaustion with this pile. But I wanna tell you that since you picked pile 1 before 1/1, there's a message that you are still going on the right path even if you sometimes doubt your intentions. Like strong currents and waves of the ocean, our paths can become torrential and unpredictable, with many ups and downs. I feel you've faced through many obstacles in the course of your life so it's tempting to believe that not much will change in 2025. But I see that what's ending for you is the very expectation of said lack. With the 10 of Pentacles reversed, you're breaking down old narratives that no longer work to support you. This requires retooling your brain to think differently about a situation than before, to approach it from a alternate angle. It may require unlearning and relearning, much like pruning an old branch while watering the new.

I'm getting that with Queen of Cups, it's best to do this through loving reminders. I get that many of you in this pile may be resistant to or overly wary of toxic positivity, and that's understandable. A lot of advice online can scrape at the surface and be unable to fully peer into the depths of unique challenges we have had to endure. But we can be gentle with ourselves and take the time we need as we gradually welcome more optimistic affirmations into our minds and shift focus onto what we want instead of don't want. If it feels unrealistic to say to yourself, "2025 is going to be AMAZEBALLS!", then you can try something more grounded like, "2025 is filled with great opportunities."

The odds are, with the Empress, there likely will be a few great opportunities that come your way, like finding small oases filled with nutritious food blossoming in otherwise torrid and barren looking situations. If you're in the mindset to think of 2025 as being abundant and nourishing, then you will be more primed for those opportunities when they arrive. Being positive about the new year doesn't have to negate justifiable concerns, nor does it erase the troubles of the past. But it does prepare you to make the most of what's to come. Honor your past self and what you and your loved ones have gone through in the past twelve months, give yourself a chance to cleanse and heal by the oasis. Then let yourself stand and receive the blessings that are to come in due time. I'm wishing you much luck and good cheer, pile 1! Happy new year!

Pile 2: Carnelian Flame

Queen of Cups, 0 Fool, 7 of Pentacles, IV Emperor; All That Glitters, Spring Equinox: Rebirth; "Yeh I guess I do stuff but I don't feel like an actual thing yet"; "Everything is energy & energy never dies; it just transforms."

How's it going, pile 2? I chose flames for your pile because even though it's the middle of winter, I felt the invigorating energy of my local spring weather cycle in this pile. Everything from the rain to the warmth to the growth to the heat, in the right order! I sense this pile is very enthusiastic at the idea of having an exciting 2025. I don't wanna say that this could be "your year" so to not jinx it, but I'm inspired by the vibrancy in these cards. You feel more than ready to shed the old unwanted parts of the past and welcome the new you. I'm getting that a sense of imposter syndrome is dwindling away as you become more in tune with your emotions, and this is a growth that has taken place over time. As you give yourself more self love and praise for who you are, the more you're able to integrate the humble parts of you that accept learning and growth along with the parts of you that embrace your innate talents and traits.

With All That Glitters beneath the usually jester-like Fool card, You're learning to distinguish between the fake and the real when it comes to acting that you're accomplished and fulfilled from actually being it. It's a big leap to realize that some happiness is genuine, some confidence is real, and that some assertiveness doesn't hurt but might actually help to demonstrate your ability to lead. This kind of energy, the joy and self-assurance, is all yours. This is like a very soft release of an old ego that clung to the character role of playing small and buffoonish. Pile 2, it's time to give yourself some more credit.

I see 2024 as being a year where you realized some kind of personality change, mainly because you had to. It's like when somebody gets a promotion and suddenly it's like they have to take on a "bigger" role to play and it's like they have to grow their feet to fill into bigger shoes, so to speak. They have to change how they perceive themselves and make it real. You had to take on a larger role than you were ready for and it's created a change in views. So what has to end from that are the old thoughts that try to talk you down. Whatever position you're elevating yourself to, you deserve good things from your change, as flowers bloom from the snow. You've gone through the rite of passage, embrace whatever beauty that you will into your world. You don't need to "fake it" to make it in 2025, pile 2, because You Are It! Wishing you a very bright, happy new year!

Pile 3: Amethyst Sky

XVIII Moon, I Magician, VIII Strength, 10 of Wands; Serendipity, Galaxy: Perspective; "Relax, it's still just the loading screen"; "It takes courage to be honest & authentic. The ones meant for you will stay."

Hello, pile 3. You have a lot of major arcana in your spread, which suggests a major ending that may be happening as this reading is being written. You could be in the midst of a huge transition in your life. I'll admit to chuckling a bit when I saw the loading screen card show up underneath the Moon, as I have often thought of the Moon card as being similar to the uncertainty of an intermission. Like when people rise from the theater for the restroom and concession stand, thinking about how the following act will be. There's a bit of trepidation of finding out what's coming next, especially if this last year has really put you through the wringer. Now would be a good time to freshen up with cheer, relaxation, and good snacks if you feel as though 2025 may be "big" for you in any way.

This reading gives me a strange déjà vu as though I've written this in a dream, so perhaps you may wonder if next year will bring a lot of the same baggage of the previous year. But I see here with Magician that you have a lot of power in your hands to mold your new beginnings into what ever you want it to be, and luck is on your side here. You are a video game player of your life here, not a movie goer observing, and next year can be a chance for you to play around with how you'd rather have things be. See how the loading screen resembles the galaxy in the Perspective card? The loading screen is not there to keep you stuck; this downtime can be used to reassess your path and how you want it to go. So if your life right now is quiet, now is a great time to self reflect on your desires and what you would do if you knew you could do anything (ah great, now I'm thinking about that kid from the meme!).

I see you overall ending the feeling of needing to hold onto baggage from the past. You can feel more comfortable changing course even if it means playing the game differently before and after the loading. You don't have to hold onto an old narrative just because it's what others expect from you. Please take time to rest and recharge in between these major transitions you're going through, and know that the next year does not have to be a repeat of the last. You have the power to change and expand more than you know. Wishing you the best of luck pile 3 and have a happy new year!

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2024, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[shellomantic]

- Rangshi

(Headcanon: rangi has exes)

Kyoshi: how are you so good at this?

Rangi: Kyoshi, I'm a 5'9 sei'naka woman who went to an ALL GIRLS academy for SIX YEARS. I've had experience, you're not my first one

Kyoshi: im not??

Rangi: you didn't know?

Kyoshi: no, so you have.. an ex?

Rangi: two, to be exact. along with many other passing crushes, but They were only shallow, temporary love, most barely lasted a month. I was young and simply exploring my interests.

Rangi: but it was hard to put my attention onto romance with priorities and honor on the line, that and also my mother's reputation dawning on me, i always tried to keep my personal life hidden but, well, people found out, it spread to the whole school, it was- a terrible time.

Kyoshi: ...i had no idea

Rangi: its not a story i like to tell people, My past romantic experiences.. it never ends well. but you, kyoshi, your case is different, its like i've finally fallen in love for the first time.

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

i love them. anyways yea ive always thought about the fact that rangi really enrolled in a fire nation all-girls school. we all know hei-ran is okay with LGBTQ but we can't say the same for every other fire nation person, especially the competitive honor-bound students.

Rangi's a lesbian, she'd probably have crushes throughout the years she enrolled in the academy, at one point she'd probably even gotten as far as to date some, but the overall homophobic environment really makes it hard for her to dedicate herself, that, and she partially also doesn't want to sacrifice her training/grades for someone she likes. in any and all cases, she will prioritize herself first before her past lover.

However, with kyoshi. its not like that. No its not just because she's bound as the avatar's bodyguard. Rangi fell first, at first she expected it to just be another passing, shallow crush like how she used to, but no. They spent a lot of time together, covering eachother's backs, supporting eachother, it was mutual.

this was when rangi realized that Love remains an unfamiliar territory to the firebender. How Rangi would without a doubt sacrifice herself for kyoshi, go out of her way just to make sure kyoshi takes care of herself, she would run miles just to see her, to check up on her. all the sudden, kyoshi became a big part of her life.

And when they became lovers, Rangi couldn't be happier, she finally understood love stories and fairy tales like the tale of two dragons. back then she would think it is stupid to care for someone else before yourself, or go to such treacherous bounds in the name of love, but now she understands.

This is, Rangi's side of the story.

[dear-ao3]

hello, saph. here to say thank you so much for the fantastic wonderous brilliance that is the 2024 Formula One Silly Season and Drama Update Post. sometime around march my friend and i thought. eh whats the deal with this eff one stuff lets look in to it. without your unyielding dedication to explaining and recaping EVERYTHING, i doubt either of us would have had any clue where to start. i think ive reread the entire thing at least 5 times (and i will do it again.) how you have managed to do this i have NO idea. just keeping up with everything is enough of a challenge. but for the last 8 months its been our entire life (and a hell of a season to pick it up it seems). tears have been shed, i have woken my entire family and cat up several times at 3 in the morning screeching, my sleep schedule and weekends have been irreversibly damaged for ~half of the year. and i would not have it any other way. and, around two thirds of the way through the season my mother started watching the races with me and is now FULLY in to the strategy, politics and interpersonal drama of it all. i send her things from the update post (she enjoys it greatly btw). and! f1 has also given me a conversation topic over christmas lunch with relatives ive never really spoken to in any depth before and thats. well thats Pretty Cool. anyway sorry for babbling in your inbox for too long. thank you for everything, you are an icon and a legend and a hero and i wish you the happiest of vibes for 2025 <3

thank you so much 🫶 i really don’t know how i managed it either to be honest with you. it was a whole lot of information and i fear my instagram algorithm may never recover from it lol.

yes, this was quite the season to pick it up lol. i myself only properly picked it up in october 2023, so i’m not as much an expert as many of you may think ! i mostly was learning along with everyone else and i haven’t re read the post myself but i’m sure the beginning half is filled with all kinds of misinformation and inaccuracies

that is so fun that your mom got into it! and that you can talk to other family members about it :) i hope you didn’t have to explain slutty little soup can. or the john green cock post. or whatever else i referenced on that post to your mom, if you did i am sorry

thank you for reading my post, i’m glad you enjoyed it and i’m glad you learned things 🫶

[slasherstories123]

Can i request Jason and Bubba when faced with having to go to a supermarket with their s/o?? I really love your writing (the bracelets hcs are my favs :]) andd if ya can't tell ive never requested anything like this before :,]

Jason and Bubba going to a supermarket with their s/o

Tagslist: @dootys @callmemeelah @mehidktbh @slash3rl0v3r @the-anxious-youth @beanbagbitch @mrs-heelshire @alexxavicry @oneofvincentscandles @vexeliers-breakroom @naxxsstuff @beel-mcburger @emychan @charliedawn @sleepypersonblog @slasherscrybaby @kawaistrawberry21 @bunnysenpai31 @nobody-and-i285

Jason Voorhees

It took Jason a lot of convincing to leave the forest since it was practically his home. He never wanted to leave and leave his mother behind as well.

But, even he could tell when it was time to leave for supplies. Not many trespassers were coming by so he could take their food and other necessities for you to take. There was barely any food left in the fridge and you needed to leave.

You brought up the idea of him coming with you which took a lot of convincing,but after a while he followed you out of the forest which you two held hands the whole time, mainly you did just to calm his nerves.

Jason didn’t need to eat when he became a deadeye.But you still insisted on getting him something, the supermarket was huge, more huge than any other one and it made him not want to leave your side.

You two went through many isles and saw snacks and food that you both are going to need, even seeing Hasin look at a few snacks that caught his interest.

“Would you like some chips Jace..?” You giggled while he looked away shamefully and placed the chips in the cart.

Jason would speak to you in sign language, asking about the different treats and foods that were displayed in front of his eyes.

“Those are cupcakes Jace. It’s a type of desert people get. We can also get those if you’d like.

The cart was nearly full by the time you both left since you needed things that’ll last a good few months until you’ll go back out again.”

Jason secretly liked it but would still prefer to be at the lake.

Bubba Sawyer

Since you and the Sawyer family hit the jackpot with a certain victim, you got a lot of money to spend on important food items that drayton told you to get.

That man was happy the whole time, seeing the variety of snacks and foods that were on display just for his eyes. He reminded you of a child being left alone in a toy store

Each time you turns around he had an armful of his favorite snacks or favorite foods, you couldn’t say no to that man so you smiled and told him to place them in the cart.

If there were any foods neither of you heard of you both were willing to try them. Each time you put something new in the cart he’d clap happily.

Sometimes he’d leave if he wanted to get something and it would cause you to panic until he peeks his head out from behind the shelves like a child.

“Bubba! I said not to leave my sight! If you saw something you like you could’ve told me so I would come back to it.” You kissed his cheek to brighten up his sulking face

He’s also the type to point at a lot of things since he didn’t eat non human things. “Those are called chips. There’s a different variety, I’m sure your family will like them, grab a few bags for me hun.”

You took a stroll thought the whole supermarket just to see bubbas reaction to new foods, it made you smile and feel relieved that you both had the chance to leave that house for a few hours. After you two left you both ate some of the snacks on the way home.

[yearningandstillnotlearning]

A r t .

- B.E.

Blurb :p | no use of any names for the characters, just “she” and “you”

a/n: first fanfic posted ever im so nervous | this was my yearning from some months ago i decided to make it into something more | please comment on your opinion on this im nervy

Not fluffy nor sexual but a secret third thing (sensual)

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Have you got colour in your cheeks?

Leftover snack packets and crumbs of cookies and sugar littering the couch of the living room, clock read 12:38AM, its past midnight, yet for two girls with a sleep schedule as theirs, the night is still young, too young.

Family and friends long gone, others went home others went on dates, and another stayed behind to cherish this very moment.

Are there some aces up your sleeve?

Have you no idea that you’re in deep?

Laughs had hit the walls hours ago when they were once gathered up to 7, and even now at 2 laughs are still bouncing back and forth. Sneaky giggles and stupid jokes, unexplainable videos that just seem so funny when its late and for once youre not alone.

Energy drinks on the floor next to the bed and an annoyingly bright light hitting at the side to make up for the lack of sun, yet thats the last thing to bother you right now. Theres nothing that could actually bother you right now, not when you finally have her in front of you.

Ive dreamt about you nearly every night this week

Sketchbook in your lap, pencil in your hand and coloured pencils scattered along your side on the bed, criss crossed bodies mirroring each other face to face.

Even if your face wasn’t able to stay in one place. Even if your face couldn’t handle the urge to heat and melt your makeup off in the process, even if you couldn’t handle looking at her, as much as you couldn’t handle her looking at you.

How many secrets can you keep?

Your heart thumping in your chest the same way it does when you’re at a club next to the speaker, body shook with the beat of the speakers and the bass, and you couldn’t tell if its from the amount of energy drinks you’ve consumed this evening or her presence.

But this is better, oh this is way better, theres no eardrum-breaking noise, or people squished up together, stomach-stirring drinks, uncomfortable heels. None of that.

This is simply adrenaline in itself, it was the excitement pumping in your veins.

Cause theres this tune i found that makes me think of you somehow and i play it on repeat..

Emotions thumping at your heart and in your veins causing your blood to rush to your face, cheeks burning red, but the colour showed at your ears, palms so sweaty you hold your sketchbook carefully to not wet and bend the paper. Neck and collarbone stained with red rash spots, just how into her are you?

Shes not stupid now, you tell that to yourself to sleep better at night. She has noticed everything, a simple blood rush is nothing. The way you look at her when everyone is talking laughing and you’re quiet? When your choice of “recharging” your social battery is looking at and through her? When you’re alone and suddenly your voice drops to just above a whisper, sweeter than any sugarcoated candy? When you doodle her and her only out of so many people, there are 5 other people with you two, yet who do you draw the most? You spend all your effort and time on her, enjoyably so.

Until i fall asleep,

A hand picking up your own has a wave of goosebumps sent across your body, a wave of heat while doing so. An amused laugh breaks your gaze, from the mixed hands, up to her own stare.

Shes staring at you, and you’re wishing she would stare nowhere near you. The fear in your brain banging like a migraine, wordlessly telling you she sees it all, and the very same fear in your body, giving her all the confirmation she needs. Her eyes softening as her one-sided laughter dies down, and you’ve yet to actually see her. So far you have been too caught up in your own thoughts to see in front of you until now.

A hand holding your burning one to her also heated cheek, and a twinkle in her eye right between that blown out pupil and icy blue cloud that dances like the stars do on the dark night sky right outside the window.

“I knew you felt it too, Im not crazy to like you”

spillin’ drinks on my settee.

[vampdes]

— “MISSIN’ THE PARTY.” [being a jock meant you were absolutely obligated to throw ragers at least once a week. but what happens when ethan just can’t get enough of you? you give him what he wants, of course!]

GENRE. smut.

PAIRING. ethan landry x m!reader.

CW. lowercase implied, cheating implied, jock!reader ( briefly mentioned / implied ), nervous!ethan, big dick!ethan, a lot of sexual fantasies ( ethan ), oral implied ( reader receiving ), top!ethan / bottom!reader.

NOTES. this coulda been better, ima be real, ive js been waitin to post this tho so ima js rip the bandaid off. enjoy! ⭐ ( @asukases )

it started simple, easy. he’d tutor you, congratulate you when you had gotten a problem right and easily correct you when you’d gotten a problem wrong.

obviously, you’d be rightfully confused and frustrated when he’d laugh at ‘how much of a book-like jock’ you are. nevertheless, the sessions went on and on and on. you learned more about him as time went on, as he did about you. well, he learned more about you because you’re rather talkative. you told him about the football team, even provided him with the practice schedule, you told him about your girlfriend, the head cheerleader for the football team, and about how difficult it was getting. you’d mainly tell him about her because you just couldn’t understand her.

“i don’t get it. like, i’m hot, i’m strong, i’m the literal definition of “everything a girl could ever need”, you know? all i want, every once in a while, mind you, is a little action, that’s it. even a quickie would work, for fucks sake!”, you wailed about your numerous ‘issues’ with your girlfriend as the two of you sat on the bleachers, watching as your captain directed the younger members of the team for being ‘incompetent players’.

you groaned in annoyance before returning to the main point of your conversation, “but, no. she still has to have so many excuses, like all i want is some fuckin’ sex. like bro, you don’t know how hard it’s been. it’s been seven months! seven! i can’t even sleep with any of the girls in the sorority down the road because they say it’s against their rules. eugh, i just don’t understand it.”. ethan’s eyebrows rose and his lips formed a small, slight grin numerous times during your very one-sided conversation regarding your relationship.

“no ‘cause, if i were a girl, i’d fuck me! mad sex too. i’d even fuck ..” you paused, biting the inside of your cheek as you thought of someone to consider fucking hypothetically, “.. you.” you smiled at ethan, letting out a loud laugh after you had watched his face morph into a flustered one. “i mean, hell, you’re .. somewhat fit, so why not, right?”.

ethan’s tongue slid over his lower, rose pink lip at the thought of fucking you as though you were a girl. the idea of getting you riled up, whimpering, moaning and begging for more of him was nothing but a feverish dream. his fingers stretching you, thrusting inside of you, touching the most sensational parts of you that you never dared to touch yourself. you’d be demanded to thrust on his fingers, to prep yourself on your own in order to fit all of him inside of you, and you’d hesitantly do so. your hips would start slow as though you were scared of how good you’d feel, but then, the feeling of you being able to have such a power over ethan would make you cave in. you’d become an animal and rut on his fingers as your teeth bit into the pillow beneath you. you never, ever knew you could feel so good.

“.. ethan? bro? practice is over, dude. we gotta get back to the dorm and get ready for the rager tonight.”

for fucks sake, you never knew how to shut up. it annoyed him so fucking much, just shut up for once, will you? if he had the chance, just a slight, slight chance, he’d put you in the place where you belonged: quivering beneath him with your wrists bound and cock sore.

but, “alright, lets go!” was all he could respond with. he didn’t want to lose his golden boy by scaring him off with his wild, erotic fantasies that only amplified when you’d strip in front of him, forcing him to shove a pillow on top of his already tight jeans.

by the time the two of you had made it to the dorm the two of you shared, it was well past party-time and you’d have to rush in order to get ready. ethan, on the other hand, wasn’t too keen on the idea of becoming so drunk to the point where he couldn’t even stand on his own ( aka what you did after he had to bring you back to campus after the last frat party you hosted ).

unfortunately, for him, the ideals from earlier were still playing like a movie inside of his mind. he couldn’t recall how many things he wanted to do to you, to do with you. oh god, fucking hell. you just didn’t know how hard you made him, how much you made him ache in the middle of the nights and in the dawn of the mornings. you made him whine, squeal, cry for more of you. more of you touch, of your taste, of your sound. more of you to cover with cum. more of you to mark with his numerous substances. fuck, please stop teasing him. he won’t be able to control himself, not tonight. especially not after the show you’re giving him at the moment.

that’s when you came out of your walk-in wardrobe and asked him what he thought of your shirt. you wore nothing but a slim, almost see through pair of boxers and a tight fitting shirt that rose over your belly button and squeezed around your chest. the fabric was so tight that it rubbed against your nipples every time you moved. “mm.. on second thought, nevermind. it’s rubbin’ me in all the wrong places, fuck, don’t think i can take it off by myself though. could you help me?”.

his eyes flitted away from your thighs and instead to your torso that was obviously visible through the shirt. wait—wait, you wanted help with taking off your shirt? the shirt that made you look so, so fucking good? obviously he had to oblige!

“c’mere, i’ll get it off for you.” he’ll do more than get it off of you. he’ll gladly get off on you.

you stood in front of him, obliging to his “eyes closed” request. “jus’ do it quickly, the party’s going to end soon.”. you felt the sharp tips of his fingernails scrap across your waist before he started to scale upwards, loving the feeling of the sides of your torso to your plump chest and perky nipples. “ethan! you’re ‘posed to be taking the shirt off!” you whined, “i wanna be in time for the party, c’mon!”.

ethan laughed, “fine, fine. just teasing you, love, just teasing.” he let out a huff of air as he gripped the ends of the said tight fitting t-shirt and started to tug at it. “what’re you doing? jus’ take it off!” you were starting to complain, so he did as you said, he ripped it. the thin seams tore easily, straight down the middle which produced the new idea for his next fantasy.

“oh well, that’s one way to get it off of me, i guess.”

before you could pull away to discard the now loosely fitting shirt, ethan hooked his arms around your waist and looked up at you with his perfected “puppy eyed” look. you placed your hand on top of his ruffled hair, sinking your fingers inside of his many curls. “what is it, hm? you want something, so jus’ tell me.”.

he squeezed you tighter, “can we do it?”.

“‘it’? you mean fucking?”.

“no, no! not—not that. i just .. want to feel you. please?”.

for fucks sake, just say yes already. he watched your face contort from an expression of confusion to shock. please, please say yes! you have to, please. he never asks for anything, he just wants to feel you! it’s a normal ask, no? you let your girlfriend do it! so why couldn’t he? your best friend since grade school, c’mon! please.

“fine, fuck. jus’—hah, jus’ don’t tell her about this, alright?”.

ethan became giddy as though he was celebrating his birthday twice a year, a smile adorning his features. he stood, intertwining your hands with his own before instructing you to lay on the bed that he had just stood from. to wich you obliged whilst reminding him he only had a few minutes to complete his desired feel for you before you had to leave for the party. he mumbled a ‘fine’ before helping you discard of the torn shirt, leaving you in only a pair of socks and your—rather tight—briefs.

ethan parted your legs, feeling from the underside of your thighs to the plushness of your hips. his jeans felt entirely too tight, he wanted to fuck you like a damn animal. ruthless. with no mercy. he wanted to make you cry only to shut you up. he wanted to make you shake, to make you wither beneath him with only the feverish feeling of him fucking you keeping you steady. he lefts your hips and trailed down to the brim of your briefs. the nail of his pointer finger trailed the outline of your cock, producing a quiet whimper to leave you lips.

“no, ethan—fuck–you can’t, you know you can’t.”

ethan only smiled, “but i can, no? you know how much you want me to blow you. fuckin’ hell, you say i do it better than your girl. c’mon, just once?”.

“ .. just once, alright? then, i’m leaving, swear.”

“fine, fine,” he responded in between the soft, slow kisses he pressed against the cloth of your briefs, “i’ll be quick, promise.”.

ethan being ‘quick’ soon turned into your face stuffed into a pillow and your nails burrowing themselves into the sheets. your many pleads for him to calm down, to stop acting as though he was an animal during its rut, fell on deaf ears. it was well past the time of the party, you realized, you could’ve been drinking, doing keg stands, but no, you had to give into his request.

ethan leaned into you, pressing his chest against your back whilst biting at your neck. he whispered your name. whiny, desperate, greedy.

“ffuck, oh fuck, you’re so good f’me, fuck ..”, his hips erratically chased his fifth orgasm of the night. his desire to see his cum spill from your swollen hole was more than enough to keep his fast, desperate rhythm. “c’mon—hah,” he raised himself from his current position, snapping his hips to delve himself deeper within you. ethan grabbed at your hair, forcing you to raise your head. “say it. say you’re a good fuckin’ slut for me.”

“m’such—ah!—m’such a good fuck–mm, ffuckin’ slut f’you! i am, i am, i am. ah, hah, fuck, wait, wait—i, oh god, i can’t! too .. too much, ethan!”.

your inconsistent babbles made his head spin. fuck, can his boy get any cuter?

he laughed at the thought. his long, slender fingers ran up your back before stopping at your lower lip, “open.” he commanded. “what? wh—”, in the middle of your sentence, he pushed two of his fingers inside of your mouth. a choked gag came from you, which amused him. even though his fingers were slim, they fit inside your mouth so well. ethan’s fingers laid still on tongue, his fingernails nipped at the back of your throat. such length provided him with muffled groans and moans from you.

his cock rubbed against the spots that provided you the most pleasure, making you cry out and grovel beneath him. saliva coated his fingers, tears covered your cheeks, and cum coated the cream colored sheers beneath you. ethan’s thick, sticky tip abused your prostate repeatedly making you cry out his name in incoherent moans with dilated pupils.

“i guess it is too much for you, mm.” he mumbled, rubbing his thumb on your sticky, pre-cum stained tip, feeling at how you twitched beneath him. you clenched around him as you came, which, in turn, made him fill your velvet insides with his copious amounts of cum. “ffuck, oh—ooh god,”, he whined, biting his lower lip as he slowly pulled out of you, watching as ropes of his cum covered your stomach that was beaded with sweat. ehan’s cum not only covered your stomach but also spilling out of your gaping, swollen hole. ethan watched intently, enjoying the sight before him.

with the party mindset far behind you, you missed the touch of his prying, groping hands on your body. “what? do you want more?” he mocked, watching as you whined for his hands to be all over you once more. “fine.” he smiled, his hands up and down your plush thighs, “just .. a few more times alright?”.

© CREDITS TO ur1nonlydan. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR COPY MY WORKS