#if he brings up he has feelings he will lose it

[kathaynesart]

RECOMMENDED MUSIC: Boom Goes the Donnie-mite (Mikey/Donnie/Raph vs the Sweeper) - "The Red Zone" by Mitsuoto Suzuk

Finally! This big ol' update is out! Thank you everyone for your patience. Hopefully the next one will be much sooner since I already have parts of it drawn out. We're nearing the end of... uh, lets just call it the "Holiday Special."

BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT (SOON) MASTER POST

Also couldn't get this out of my head as I was drawing this update:

Mikey's Ninpo:

Donnie's Ninpo:

Anyways, have some long winded deep dive into Donnie and Mikey's powers below the cut:

Mikey and Donnie are interesting because I feel these two are the ones who truly reach the full potential of their gifts. Mikey isn't there as of yet in the story but he will be by the end of Replica. Where as Leo and Raph had a lot of other things to focus on (leading, planning, and dealing with colony drama), Donnie and Mikey took the time to really focus on themselves and their abilities, choosing to distance themselves from a lot of the drama that the leaders of the family have to deal with.

Mikey's Ninpo

I always found it interesting how Mikey's weapon (the kusari-fundō) seemed to be the only one that had an actual entity within it. While they never address it, it's obviously some sort of flame demon/spirt. It could also help explain Mikey's dramatic increase in strength knowing that the spirit of his weapon is literally able to help him lift boats and buildings. I like to think that Michelangelo formed a connection with the spirit, especially since he looked so crushed when the Shredder destroyed his weapon in a way that none of the other brothers had.

Shortly after the victory against the Shredder I imagine he comes across his destroyed weapon in their old lair (probably while they're gathering thing to move to their new home) and he can still feel the sad little remnants of the spirit clinging to life in the broken object. I feel this would be the turning point that would lead to Mikey's first dip into the mystic arts. He would bring the weapon back to Barry for guidance and Barry would explain that the spirit has been bound to the object for so long that it can no longer survive on its own. Normally it could be bound to a new object but in it's dying state it would not be able to attach properly.

It is Mikey who suggests that maybe if it was bound to a person rather than a inanimate object then maybe the person could help the spirit survive. Barry admits the reasoning is sound and after much coercing finally helps guide Mikey through the steps, allowing the fire spirt to bind itself to Mikey's being (think something similar to Howl and Calcifer in Howl's Moving Castle, sans the heart losing). At first, not much seems to comes of the union. The spirit is still too weak to be able to do much of anything, but over time it regains its strength in tandem with Mikey and is able to gift him with similar abilities, becoming an integral part of Mikey's arsenal as well as a new spiritual connection to the Hamato family line. That is what we get a peek of here in this chapter.

Donnie's Ninpo

Just as Mikey canonically will go through a sort of mystic and spiritual enlightenment, Donnie too will have a similar scientific revelation. It always bothered me in the movie that his "firepower" (guns, missiles, etc) never seemed to be very effective, or at least not as effective as his ninpo designed physical constructs (such as the jet packs and the giant drill he uses on both the Krang and the Shredder). I believe this is because with physical constructs like a drill he has a sense of the weight and velocity needed to understand how hard it should hit. This properly visualized weight and damage is then made into reality.

But it's different with firearms and bombs. Up until the movie he really doesn't have a lot of real world experience around artillery and projectiles outside of what he sees on the internet and film. He does not know how a megaton bomb should feel or even the damage a bullet can create. And don't get me started on the the imaginary ray guns he uses on the Krang that don't seem to even leave a scratch. Without proper knowledge it's all just a light show. Very flashy, but not very effective.

When he realizes this it comes as a heavy hit to Donnie early on in the war. ...However, if there's one thing he is going to be exposed to in this bad timeline it's weapons of all kinds, even mass destruction. He will know exactly how it feels to get hit with a bullet, the blast of a projectile, and even an atomic bomb. He will then take this real world knowledge and recreate it in the same realistic way he can recreate his battle shell or drill staff. It takes a lot of work, sweat, and literal blood but this exposure to the worst of mankind's creations will help make him a walking encyclopedia of destruction. Over time, he will no longer need to make actual constructs of "bombs" or "bullets." He'll be able to simply create the pure raw power desired, no radiation or nuclear fusion needed. That's exactly what we see here.

We also see his use of shields, which is just as important as his ninpo arsenal. Specifically his ability to create shields to contain his own blasts, dramatically reducing the collateral damage from his own weapons of mass destruction. This makes him highly effective at taking down large enemies, but the shields sap his strength even more than the weapons (for it is easy to destroy, but hard to protect and preserve). This makes him often times a liability. He's often a sitting duck after pushing himself too hard and it can take him a decent amount of time to build these heavy hitting bombs. It's a double edged sword to be sure.

NOTE: these are stories I do plan to address further in my Patreon, with proper illustrations, but I wanted to give a little taste of what to expect! Haha. Very soon....

[hurlingdown]

ftm!character. dom!reader. cunnilingus.

imagine taking your sweet, sweet time savouring him. 

pressing your lips to toughened, scarred skin, puckering them lightly to let out soft muahs, letting him know just how much you appreciate him. making him squirm, face and chest glowing, so embarrassed by how delicate you’re treating him but at the same time not being able to look away. 

your gaze isn’t hungry, no. it’s a different sort of heavy intensity that’s residing within, speaking to him, drumming on his heart, making the space inside his ribs feel small and cramped. it’s almost like you’re in love with him, but this is just one of the many things that he wants… so much, too much, but knows no god out there would grant the wish of a devil. 

there’s no rush at all when you kiss your way down his stomach and navel until you’re snug between his thighs, pressing your cheek against one of them. he doesn’t ask what you’re looking at, knows exactly how much he’s leaking for you, and he clenches his hole to make it drool a little more. 

you smile when a hand cards through your hair, not a demand but something more tender. telling you he’s okay, you may begin when you are. 

he’s throbbing with need by the time you’re pressing open mouthed kisses on his clit, shivers of pleasure making him let out soft gasps into the open air. his hand never leaves your hair, and he’s trying his best not to tug at the strands, giving you all the freedom you deserve. he doesn’t ask for more—you already know. just lays back, and lets you make him feel good. 

we have all the time in the world, he thinks. lies to himself, because it helps soothe the ache. lets him forget a little while, the splinter in his chest. 

the first broad stroke of your tongue against him brings him back to reality. he lets go to fist his hands into the sheets, trying his best not to buck up to you. you’ve gone through this with him many times before, but he’s still afraid he’ll lose control and somehow hurt you in vulnerable moments like these. you loathe it, how he thinks of pleasure like a sin. 

“don’t hold back,” you murmur into his folds, and he lets out a shaky exhale at the sweet buzz that probes his walls. nods—yes, he will listen, even if he thinks he doesn’t deserve it. it’s you who deserves to be heard. you breathe in his earthy scent, a hand finding his clenched fist, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing; even as you begin to lick into him again, lapping up his slick and stretching him out. 

this time, and the next few times, he doesn’t stop himself. he parts his lips to let out a low moan as you pull back to suck wetly at his clit, and cringes at the noise. it ends shortly when you echo him with a loud, throaty groan into his pussy, as though his pleasure was your own. at this, he trembles with a gasp of your name, eyes widening because you were unpredictable like that. you only encourage him, free hand holding him still as you eat him out slow and meaningfully, eyes never leaving him to make sure he’s enjoying every second of it. 

after that, all hell lets loose, and he feels as though moan after moan is pulled out from bone and marrow, from the depths of his soul, the dirty places that he has tried to hide from you. it is the first time that he has realised that maybe he is allowed to feel this way. maybe he is allowed to want, and have, and not be satisfied with just ‘enough’.

“please,” he cries out, as you slurp him, feast him. he holds your hand tight as the first wave of his orgasm burns through him, the quivering flame inside roaring to life—and bursting into wildfire. 

he curses, writhes, fighting to jerk out from your grip, no longer trying to act tame and reverent. you continue to pleasure him even as buries a hand in your hair, trying to wrench you away, sobbing out pleas for mercy and for more. 

if this is what it takes to make him lose control, then you will do it. over and over again, until he breaks out of that hollow shell, the one that cages him in with his quiet self-destruction, away from release and pleasure. until he learns that being with you is supposed to feel good.  masterlist! p.s. learning how to eat pussy from shakespeare

[rainhee-dazedd]

save the dick, and ride the abs instead

reader has a higher libido than sunghoon (lmao-)

honestly how could you blame yourself for being horny still after having hours of sex with your bf, sunghoon. this man himself has always been the center of attention by thousands of woman and u could count urself as one of them. throwing your body bf his body voluntarily without him asking, that's how he made u feel.

u slowly shift your body around, making as little sound as you could to not wake sunghoon up. as you remove your underwear and pulling away the blanket that was covering sunghoon's body. revealing his carefully crafted body thanks to many years of ice skating plus dancing.

you slowly put both your thighs on both sides of his body bf lowering it your body right onto his abs. careful to not put to much weight onto him and waking up. guess someone's dream of trying somnophile is coming through tonight as u grin to urself.

leaning your body back, and your hands supporting half your weight before you slowly rubbed yourself onto the rough ridges of his abs. despite the cold night's air, your body's still burning up and your mind getting hazy as you admire sunghoon's innocent face as you used his body to pleasure yourself.

letting out quiet gasps as your clit catches the rough edges of sunghoon's abs. despite your pussy making a lot of wet sounds, you can't bring yourself to stop and bother that you're gonna wake sunghoon up. feeling your hole clench at the thought of being caught by sunghoon.

"was my dick not satisfying enough that you're beginning to use my abs now?" speaking of the devil. sunghoon's grinning to himself, enjoying the sight before him as your hips are desperately rubbing him as your back arches, lifting your tits up to the air as your nipples turning hard due to the cold air.

your mind is blank right now as you desperately chase your high and all you could do is whine. you feel cold hands wrap around your hips, guiding you to ride faster. you lean forward, hovering over sunghoon's face as your hands give out behind you. sunghoon taking the opportunity and latching his mouth onto one of your tits. and that's when you lose it and you let out a quiet scream as the knot inside you snaps and your vision turns white. you're feeling your cum cover sunghoon's whole stomach and some of them sliding off between your thighs and his body. your body gave up and leaned onto sunghoon's cum covered skin and staining yourself too.

"fuck you squirted?" as you feel his breath against your neck.

"yea I guess so." speaking through heavy breaths as you felt his arms go up and down your back.

"wanna go for another round?"

[adrinktostopyourthirst]

bucky’s “gimme a minute, baby” in that skin-on-skin drabble has me in such a chokehold i’m actually struggling to breath right now and oops i just died. building on that, how do you think bucky kind of balances that control while also being the absolute man of service he is? hard to imagine him struggling for dominance—that man is NOT a sub—but he’s definitely walking a line between calling the shots and being on his fucking knees.

Bucky wants skin on skin…

I blame it on Bucky’s tunnel vision and tenacity. He can’t help but go after what he wants. He can’t help but lose his pride over it. Can’t help but have you…

The breath that rushes from him is ragged and desperate. Your fingers curl in his slightly sweat-matted tresses, tugging his face up so his glistening chin tilts upward and his glossy eyes meet yours from between your legs. He wants to speak, but he’s struggling for words. It seems strange to be able to bring him to this state - not submission, but utter desperation.

“What is it, Bucky?” you ask him and his eyes flutter when you rake your nails over his scalp.

“Baby,” he rasps.

“Hm?”

“Come on,” he sighs. “Let me just- Just…”

You smile at him and slightly shift your hips, his eyes drifting down to watch the movement and his throat bobbing as he swallows. This is torture for him and you can’t fathom someone wanting you so badly. You’re almost scared of what he will do to you when you allow him to lower his mouth back onto you.

In truth, you needed him to stop for a second. Your orgasm came toward you way too quickly. It was too much and your thighs had been shaking like crazy.

“What do you want, Bucky?” you ask him before your disbelief overrules the euphoric feeling you get when this man wants you like this.

His fingers curl in the sheets, the metal whirring with the movement. This is the kind of restraint you’ve seen from him in battle, when he wants to attack, but is waiting for orders. This is a soldier. A soldier waiting for the order to attack. To kill.

“Wanna lick you,” he mutters and his cheek falls to your inner thigh, pupils growing as his eyes dart between your glistening cunt and your flushed face. “Want to see you come.”

You shake your head and tilt it at him. “You weren’t trying to make me come.”

His mouth curves up at the corner. Bastard. He has his own agenda.

His brow drops as he straightens his position. His hands slowly curl from the sheets and slide to your thighs, squeezing the outside and sliding to your inner thighs.

Your confidence falters. And his smirk fully comes out when he knows you’ve caught on, his hands pressing down to open your thighs as far as they go.

“Let me have what I want, sweetheart,” he mumbles and presses lazy kisses over your thighs, visibly depriving himself of what he really wants - taunting himself. His voice is soft, but you know better than to think you have the power. You’re talking to a man starving.

Something in your belly twists at the thought and Bucky snickers at your pussy convulsing. His finger darts out and traces over your folds.

“Buck…”

“We want the same thing, don’t we?” he asks.

You nod, words lost.

“Good girl,” he says, lips fluttering against your clit with the words. You shudder. “You know I’d beg for it.”

Fuck, you do. He would. He has.

In defeat, you drop your head back between your shoulders with a long breath. You hear him laugh softly, feel his grip steady on your thighs.

Then you feel his mouth.

Oh no…

[rottiens]

𐙚 contents. not established relationship, jealous gōjō, exhibitionism, mentions of reader x getō, masturbation (m -> f), fem!reader, alcohol, interrupted orgasm. | 1.7k

Gojo holds a lollipop between his fingers, pulling it out of his mouth from time to time. His lips, naturally pink like the roses in the Jujutsu tech garden, are now stained with the artificial reddish hue that melts in his mouth. The lollipop is almost consumed and, if you looked closely, you'd realize it's about to disappear with a few more licks.

Everyone else has a beer in their hands, except for him and you. You fiddle with your phone, switching it from one hand to the other as you talk to Shoko and Mei Mei, trying to keep yourself busy and sober. These days have been long and difficult for you, and you need to stay as clear-headed as possible to avoid saying something you might regret.

From time to time you glance at Geto, who gives you back an lopsided smile that you respond to. But when you look at Gojo, although he tries to hide it, you are quicker and catch him watching you through the blindfold.

Gojo sucks on the lollipop, forcefully wiping away a smile that threatens to escape, and turns his attention to Nanami, who was forced by you to come to this meeting and is saying something seemingly interesting that keeps Gojo's attention occupied.

Shoko asks you something, but you weren't paying attention and you feel guilty. Guilty for not performing well on your last few missions, guilty for having three unfinished reports scattered on your desk, guilty for not paying attention to your friend, and guilty because you're sleeping with two of your coworkers, trying not to lose your mind and two friendships in the process.

"I'm sorry," you apologize to Shoko and walk away from the conversation with a banal excuse without waiting for a response.

You flee to the balcony, open the glass window and lean forward over the railing, letting your body lurch out into the vast emptiness of the road. The damp breeze stirs your hair and cools you a little, but does almost nothing in the face of the heat in your cheeks.

The back of your neck bristles and your spine is struck by an invisible whip that makes you straighten your body, as if someone is lifting your shoulders. You prepare to flee before it's too late, but it's already too late. The smell of Gojo's cursed energy suffocates you like a heavy fog, a clear sign that he is marking his territory and flaunting his power. He's in front of you, still sucking on what little is left of the round lollipop, about to be consumed.

"Satoru!" you feign surprise followed by a forced smile, even though you both know that you and all the guests knew he was there. "Hey, we haven't had time to talk."

He looks you up and down. Though his eyes are covered, he could easily watch you without you noticing, but he makes it obvious, shaking his head exaggeratedly as he shamelessly examines you. Unlike the others, you've removed your uniform jacket, remaining only in dark blue baggy pants and a white tank top.

"That's because you've been avoiding me," he accuses you, sucking exaggeratedly on the lollipop, pulling it out of his mouth and bringing with it a trickle of saliva that he quickly catches with his tongue.

"I…" Focus. "I wanted to spend more time with the girls."

"I'm not talking about now." Gojo takes two steps forward and you have nowhere to run. The short distance between you forces you to lift your face slightly to look at him and cling to reality by tightening your grip on the iron bars. His broad shoulders cover the entrance, hiding you from the people inside the building and creating a contrast between the lights bouncing off his body. "We haven't spoken in days."

"That's because I've been busy." You cross your arms over your chest. Gojo chuckles softly.

"Are you fucking him?" he asks, playing with the lollipop in his mouth. His tongue curls around the sweet girth and flicks it against his pearly teeth purposefully, causing a clicking sound.

"Who?" you dare to ask, the corners of his mouth stretching.

"You want me to use names?"

"Satoru…" you warn him, cornered like an animal, he takes another step closer.

"You smell like him." Your first reaction is to deny it. To say it wasn't what he was thinking, that he was wrong. But that never worked with gojo, when he confronted you it was because he probably already knew everything. So you shut up. "You're not going to deny it then…, fine." He chews, hard. Breaking the candy into small pieces.

"You don't have to be jealous."

Gojo shrugs. "I'm not." He takes another step, still chewing. Another step, and he's completely in front of you. You can't see the entrance, hear the music, or see anything but him. The sensation disarms your shields, your arms drop and surrender to either side of your body, your lower lip trembles.

"Satoru…" you call out to him, you implore him, not sure what you really want to say.

You see his Adam's apple bob up and down. You swallow. A long finger emerges from his sides at your face and you lose your normal breathing rhythm for a moment. You don't feel it, but his finger runs that invisible line between the vast nothingness and your skin from jaw, neck, chest, down to the bare skin of your navel that the top doesn't cover, there, gojo lands with his whole hand. He still stops you from feeling it, but even so the thought makes you shudder.

"Please say something." You ask, shifting your body weight between your heels.

"Do you really want to hear me talk?" Slowly, painfully, you feel the warmth of his palm manifest itself in your abdomen, above your pelvis. Your skin instantly bristles reacting to his touch. "I made you a q-"

You don't let him finish, you're nodding your head before. Gojo laughs, "I don't care who you fuck. As long as you answer my texts, as long as you open the door when I call. As long as…" his fingers push your skin down, pressing against your stomach as they go down… and down into your pants. "Hm, there it is," he chuckles again and his breath rakes your ear. He was so close now that it seemed like you were hugging him if anyone was watching you from afar. "I miss this pussy." Gojo separates your folds with his middle and ring fingers, and what he finds doesn't surprise him. You were already wet, making his job easier. Gojo exposes your clit to his raw touch and with the help of the rough area of the pad of his fingers he begins to rub slowly.

"Not here…" you say, squeezing the sleeve of his uniform. Sticking you closer to his body.

"You don't want Suguru to see you like this?" gojo tsks, tracing rough strokes that make you melt all over him. Immediately your pussy becomes a puddle, sensitive and in need of attention.

This kind of unstable situation between you and Gojo had been going on for months. You were friends, was what he said. But friends don't kiss, don't touch each the way you do, don't hold hands when they're alone. They don't look at you like Gojo does, they don't knock on your door at three in the morning because they were gone for three days and the first thing they have to do is kiss you.

So it was confusing. What led you to make a bad decision….

"I don't mind you fucking him too because you know what?" Gojo growls into the line of your neck, sucking on the skin before speaking again. "Because this pussy belongs to me." You moan at his words, your juices wetting his knuckles. Inevitably, you spread your legs wider and allow him to slide a finger easily inside you. "You're mine."

You moan again, this time you cry against his chest allowing him to finger fuck you, it's embarrassing the sticky sound that fills the balcony, but you need him to keep talking so you can reach orgasm, it's unfair the way your body recognizes and reacts to him. Too immersed in the sensations he alone provokes in you to even think about the idea of the other sorcerers noticing what might be happening just a few feet away from them.

"Make me cum," you implore.

"More?" Gojo mimics you in an exaggerated tone of voice.

Then he stops and pulls away from you, his fingers leaving your pants as quickly as they entered and you watch him bring his fingers to those pretty red lips to lick them.

"Satoru…" you cry out, confused.

"So sweet." He smiles, still with his own fingers in his mouth.

"Why are you stopping?"

"Do you want me to keep going?" You open your lips to answer, but seal them again. Gojo was cupping your pussy over your pants, stroking condescendingly, pushing in just enough to make the folds of your pussy eat your panties, you were burning from the inside out. "Enjoy the party. I'm leaving." He says, kissing your sweaty temple before pulling away completely.

You try to yell for him, but gojo had already turned his back on you and was walking towards the entrance. "Tell Suguru to have fun and oh, please. Tell him I'm not jealous, that would be ridiculous," he turns around just in time to smirk and then pout. "I'm outraged. You guys thought I'd be dumb enough not to notice," gojo presses a hand dramatically to his chest. "That offends me… I made up the whole looking across the room at you and getting caught smiling at each other because I can't stop looking at you. I'm outraged!" he repeats. "Because we all could have been having fun together, but you decided to be selfish," he clicks his tongue. "Anyway…, I'll see you both tomorrow if I decide to come early. Bye, bye! ♡"

[loveinhawkins]

That little window of time after the events of ‘84 and before Steve graduates: where Steve loses the little interest he still had in high school drama, because how could it even matter, he thinks, after everything else?

And Eddie does notice the shift—he’s intuitive that way, can read changes in people so long as he’s really paying attention, so long as he’s looking in the right places—but that doesn’t stop his own thoughts from clouding the picture.

It’s not like the difference is all that dramatic. Steve still has the confidence that goes along with being Steve Harrington, the way he holds himself in a crowd. He’s still well-liked, invited to a respectable number of parties in his last semester; when in conversation, he laughs at all the right moments—still effortlessly fucking charming, Eddie privately thinks, resigned.

But what doesn’t escape Eddie’s notice is that there’s a half-heartedness to some of it, as if Steve’s just going through the motions.

It’s like he’s seen something bigger, that’s the closest Eddie can get to describing it—like he’s somehow seen a world beyond Hawkins, even while standing still.

Eddie reasons with more than a little bitterness that maybe it’s because Steve’s graduating. Maybe he could’ve had that feeling too if he didn’t keep…

“Hey, Munson,” Steve says in the cafeteria because he can just do that apparently, while Eddie still can’t shift the high school reflex, the instant bafflement that Steve Harrington is actually talking to him like they’re in any way—

“You’ve got O’Donnell next, right?” Steve asks.

Eddie nods. It’s not like it’s an actual shock that Steve knows some of his timetable; you spend long enough in school, and you end up remembering patterns without even really thinking about it. Still, it’s one thing to vaguely know it, another thing to hear it.

“Yeah, she’s not here, dude. Overheard a phone call in home-room, they can’t get a sub for her.”

So? Eddie thinks. He doesn’t say a word, but Steve scoffs like he’s somehow heard him.

“Just figured you wouldn’t wanna sit in class for no reason, man.”

“Right,” Eddie says. “Because I have so many other things to do.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Christ, lighten up. Sun’s shining and you’ve got the perfect opportunity to ditch class.”

Right now the only opportunity Eddie thinks he has is to be huge dick and snap back at Steve. He can’t bring himself to do it.

“Guess I don’t have your perspective,” is what he says instead.

Steve smiles. Even that seems knowing, but Eddie can’t put his finger on it.

What happened to you, Steve Harrington? Can you teach me, before you go?

Steve drifts back to his seat with a nonchalant shrug.

What Eddie doesn’t know is that Steve’s already thinking ahead to the end of the school day; he’d got a note in home-room from the school secretary, Claudia Henderson inviting him to dinner.

Eddie doesn’t understand it yet, but he can sense traces of the feeling anyway: that the sun is shining, and as far as Steve’s concerned, the monsters are gone. He’s seen so much, but today in spite of it—or maybe because of it—he is simply, unreservedly happy.

[strwbrryteen]

lee jihoon as your producer (implied idol!reader)

producer jihoon who was shy the very first time he met you with your manager because, even apart from his general incapability to mingle with females, he found you extraordinarily attractive

producer jihoon who may have been cool and composed on the outside but had firecrackers in his head when he was told he'll be your semi-permanant co-producer for your music.

producer jihoon who suggest you two hang out more often so he can get to know you better and thereby make more suitable songs for your personality, except he really only wanted to spend as much time with you as he possibly could

producer jihoon who started taking gym more seriously than ever when he heard you say muscular men are your ideal type during an interview

producer jihoon who always brings you lunch and dinner whenever you are at his studio, especially your favorite junk foods which you wouldn't be able to eat in front of your manager due to your diet

producer jihoon who has an assorted playlist of all the songs that reminds him of you

producer jihoon who is internally bouncing in joy when you tell him how good a friend he is to you

producer jihoon who gets lost watching you sing in his studio

producer jihoon who streams your performaces and livestreams as often as he can, feeling pride and glee swell in his chest as you give him a special thanks for helping your music

producer jihoon for whom you are genuinely an inspiration because you inspire him with your personality, your pretty body, the things you do for/with him

producer jihoon who is as red as a tomato when you scoot too close to him while editing your music in his studio

producer jihoon whose dick twitches in his pants when you suggest adding some moaning sounds in one of your rather sensual songs as adlibs

producer jihoon whose job as a producer includes telling you that you don't sound realistic enough when you attempt to mimik your own sounds in bed

producer jihoon who, when you ask for suggestions, tells you that you could try touching yourself sensually if it would help, and even offer to turn around to give you that privacy

producer jihoon who is took by surprise when you tell him that he didn't have to turn around if he wanted, the lust in your eyes almost piercing through the camera in the recording studio as you look up at it

producer jihoon who, being a man as he is, takes full advantage, watching you strip out of your lower half and push your top up, taking a seat on the stool there and touching your most sensitive areas.

producer jihoon who records all the sounds you make, slowly stroking himself over his joggers and saves the recordings in one of his private files.

producer jihoon who loses his composer when he hears his name slip off your tongue between moans, and he gets up and barge into the recording studio

producer jihoon who you don't take as surprise as he starts kissing you aggressively with all horniness of a sex-starved young man (that he is)

producer jihoon who holds you up with one arm (thanks for the gym motivation) and takes you to the big white couch in his studio

producer jihoon who practically licks up every inch of your skin, telling you of how much you had been tempting and teasing him and how badly he's been wanting to do this

producer jihoon, prior to whom you didn't know how big of a praise kink you had, because your clit throbs at the way jihoon calls you a good girl

producer jihoon who has the best sex he's ever had, and he might have cum embarrassingly soon all over your stomach, though its fine because you came along with him.

producer jihoon with hom sex after work is now regular, whether its right there in his studio or at his big penthouse where he takes you sometimes

producer jihoon who is glad you ask him out soon because he doesn't think he'd ever have the balls to do that himself (doesn't matter how shameless and nasty he is in bed)

[wtfsteveharrington]

"an exploratory kiss, testing the waters between them" with Luca please!

a/n: i love luca so so bad i fear s3 has giving me horrific brain rot for him baby boy i’m knocking on ur door and getting on one knee

contents: kissing, some pda, cluelessness, all my faves

"I mean... I think we're just friends, right?"

Luca takes a long swig from his cold beer pint. Using the drink as an excuse to buy himself time to think. It was some draft IPA that was just the perfect level of pretentious where he didn’t look like a dick but separated himself from some domestic bottle. Something that would matter to no one except a man with his level of perception anxiety. Condensation dripping down his wrist which your eyes follow, trailing the drops as they roll down his forearm.

"Right. And would it be worth risking things between us to test out... Something more? Because I don't want to lose you just to find out we’re being a touch crazy.”

"I don't want to lose you either." You rush out after his sentence, shaking your head while resting your hands on your knees. The rough material of your jeans against your palms helping to keep you grounded.

It had been a half an hour since you and Luca passed some wonderful older woman on the street who needed directions. Luca was able to relay them by heart, though it didn’t stop you from double checking on your phone to ensure you didn’t send her off on a misguided path. She beamed at the two of you once she knew her way, patting Luca’s arm and asking the question that has broken the two of you ever since. “How long have you two been married?”

To which the two of you sputtered out a mess of words, none of which made any sense, and the older woman gave a tsk tsk tsk. “You better propose before it’s too late. Shouldn’t let such a catch get away.” The takes off on her journey. Both of you stood their with your jaws dropped before you finally started continuing on your path to the bar and trying to laugh it off.

But neither of you could let it go.

“We could-…“ You take a deep breath, rolling your shoulders back and strengthening your resolve, “We could kiss? That way we can feel there’s nothing there and get it out of minds.”

Luca stares down at his beer, eyeing the way the foam is slowly dissipating and contemplating his options. “Just one kiss?”

You nod, “Just one. Lips only, no tongue, nothing crazy.”

His body’s turning to you, eyes filled with apprehension. Searching your face for any sign of doubt, which he doesn’t find, before nodding back to you. “Just one. We’re realize how silly this is and put it behind us.”

Luca’s hand comes to rest on top of yours, the bar suddenly feeling so much warmer and intimate than before. Thankfully no one was paying attention to your little table tucked away in the back corner. He’s watching your breathing, watching your expression. Catches your tongue dart out to moisten your lips and he does the same.

He’s close enough now where you can feel the warmth rolling off his body, you can hear each steady breath he takes. “Just… Stop me if this is weird, yeah?”

You nod, leaning in as well until your noses brush against each other and your eyes fall closed before your lips connect against his. They’re slightly cold from his drink, hints of beer still on his lips. You stay connected for just a moment before you pull away, eyeing him apprehensively.

“How was that?”

He sucks in some air, staying close to you still. “It was, uhm, chaste. To say the least.”

There’s a flush on your cheeks at that.

“Well… I mean, We can do a real kiss if you want.”

Luca’s eyes are on yours, his hand moving to slide up your thigh and grabs ahold of it. “We should just make sure, y’know? Because that told me nothing.”

It’s a flawed plan but you’re not thinking as clearly with him this close.

Your arms wrap around his neck and you bring the two of you closer once again. Your lips finding his and you let out a soft moan as you feel his part under yours. He takes the chance to let his tongue slide against your bottom lip before slipping between your lips and into your mouth. You lace one of your hands in his hair while his free arm wraps around your waist now.

It’s his turn to groan into the kiss. The sound causes you to press your thighs together while your tongue moves along his. Your breathing is picking up and you’re convinced he can hear just how hard your heart is beating.

He tastes sweet. The IPA mixed with vanilla from the custard he kept having to taste during service. It was addicting to say the least.

Minutes, hours, days pass by as you lose yourself in him. Eventually you hear him groan, pulling back slightly to press another kiss to your bottom lip before leaning back in his chair. Beaming at your shocked expression.

Your hand comes up, fingers resting against your lips as you chase the feeling of the kiss. Oh.

Luca has to adjust himself on the seat, chuckling at the sight of you as he tries to relax his breathing. “She, uh, she might have known what she was talking about.”

Luca looks smug, even with his blushing cheeks, as he takes another drink of his beer. His hand never leaving your thigh.

[luneariaa]

ᯓ★٠ ࣪⭑ PIECE OF ART. ✧ KENJI S.

you and kenji being at the museum for plot reasons, kenji being sweet, pure fluff, might be ooc kenji, not much proof-read.

tagging : @xxladyballadxx @jinwoosungs @madeimoisellesoleil 💕

. dividers by @/strangergraphics 📜 !!

A LIGHT grin is present upon your features, further observing the scattered paper arts close by-- passing it in an unhurried pace. Dressed ever so casually, to say the least, yet perfectly fitting to the current location you were in. A sight to behold that still manages to go unnoticed within the sea of people.

It is just the beginning of the eventide, and the museum still continues to open and welcome new visitors as always. Your sole figure remains there, blending in with the several other people with dexterity.

The romantic time of the day, some may say. The mere location itself has given it away fully.

Due to the amount of passing minutes that you've been inside, you started to feel quite chilly all over-- causing yourself to mentally curse for not bringing a coat along with you, blaming yourself for your small mistake.

It doesn't take long for you to endure with a slight shiver, when a certain someone suddenly covers your form up with a rather sizeable coat; warming you up almost instantly without fail.

Admittedly, you got startled from the gesture and the sudden appearance, before deciding to turn around to face the said person.

And of course, it didn't take long for you to be able to fully register upon the familiar sight altogether-- eyes instantly widening with a beaming smile.

"Ken, you actually came!" Without wasting any second of hesitation, you pulled him into an embrace-- burying your face onto his chest with pure joy.

"Mmhm," Kenji hums, adding more to his words further with an equally happy expression, along with a mellow tone. "Of course I do."

He gradually encircles his arms around you, returning the embrace with equal fervor. Lowering his head ever so slightly, he silently allows you to burrow your face further against his chest for the time being-- relishing within one another's mere presence.

Everything about him screams security, allowing yourself to drown into him without any worries; starting to feel more addicted as if he's some sort of a drug that made you hold onto life itself.

He's a famous person that is loved by many, and you're almost.. Nothing, like him. It's what keeps you questioning sometimes, and the way you're able to establish a rather special connection with him.

The difference between you two is like day and night itself; one that is vast and perceptible. Yet if only you knew-- that Kenji never once is bothered by any of those existing statuses, not even the slightest. He appreciates you for being who you truly are.

"I figured that you'd be quite busy. I mean, I understand if you're unable to stop by earlier, y'know."

"Hey, don't worry about it." Just like that-- he's able to dispel the existing anxiousness within you effortlessly so, still keeping his hold around you with just the right amount of force; not too assertive, and it just felt right.

"I'll always make time for you, my love."

His simple response made you beam in delight; noting the truth of his words alone.

No one is around the area that you both are in, does it-? It's as if nothing much mattered at this present moment, shielding yourselves with the makeshift reality that you both have unconsciously created-- lost within your own little world without a care.

The stillness around the both of you, except for the occasional breathing sounds, makes the moment special somehow. You could clearly feel the heat radiating off from him and his coat alone; his warm breath brushes past your ear.

"Feeling any better now?"

"Yeah," you nodded with a grateful smile of your own. "Thank you, Ken."

Has he ever told you on how much he loves it whenever you call him Ken? It just hits different whenever you call him like that. He would lose his damn mind if he wants to.

"I appreciate you a whole lot," you added. "You don't usually go to places like this, that is."

"I just can't help myself but to come and see you.." A velvety chuckle slips past through his lips-- planting a small kiss upon your forehead before gently pushing you away for a bit, just so that he could gaze at you.

"Honestly, I just-- yeah, I missed you, a lot. I know I've been busy lately, but still.."

Kenji is speaking nothing short of pure honesty lacing his words. He misses the feeling of your frame against his own; letting his thumb tracing the contours of your face with such delicacy-- every detail of your features none left untouched.

"What if I told you that I feel the same way too?" A cliche answer, but it works every single time.

Your gaze now darted towards the large painting ahead, which ostensively have shown a pair of lovers-- holding onto one another as the life of the other gradually withers away.

He simply chuckled over your statement, immediately taking notice of the shift of your gaze; following your line of sight after.

"The painting looks a bit depressing, to say the least," he remarks, paying close attention about what the artist is trying to convey through the art.

"Yeah." You approached closer to the aforementioned painting, and the coat-- his coat, still settled snuggly around your figure, trying your best to discern the details as well.

"I wonder what goes through the artists' mind while making this."

Kenji now stood beside you; the height difference very much noticeable. His eyes seemed to be observing it in every angle possible as well, placing his chin atop of your head from behind-- no longer standing beside you.

"I'm curious about it too."

"Maybe it was meant to portray, you know-- some tragedy?"

"Well, that definitely worked." He agreed along with your words, accompanied with a quick nod.

When he's sure that you're not looking at anywhere else but the painting alone, Kenji took the opportunity to glance down at you, secretly-- or not-so-secretly, admiring the way his coat hangs around you almost loosely; yet fittingly so. You looked so beautiful to him like this, and he didn't dare to let his mind wander too far.

At this point, you didn't have to bring him along to the museum to see the arts, when you are the whole art itself.

A precious piece of art that he would love to keep with him for as long as he's breathing-- if you would let him.

Every single part of you screams divine perfection to him. The way your eyes would light up whenever you see anything that interests you, or the way you would bite your lip in pure concentration unknowingly.

The way you speak, and the way you walk-- God, don't get him started on the way he would always, successfully so, getting any sort of reaction out of you. The list is endless, and it felt like a personal reward, one that he's not-so-willingly share with anyone else.

No one can truly blame him for doing so, honestly. Kenji couldn't help it-- he cherishes you so much that it almost hurts so good. Not out of obsession, but damn, that man loves you a little too much.

Nevertheless, nothing is truly too much for him to love you just the way you are.

Yet rightfully so, you never minded even the slightest. Kenji could never get enough of you; his love for you is always, and somehow, endless.

You smiled lovingly underneath his soft gaze, rubbing his own arm that's currently encircling around you so tenderly. You know that stare, but you just didn't want to point it out and simply wanted to relish within that feeling.

The people might see him as the arrogant, boastful person in the public eye-- a mere facade that he puts up every so often when it deems necessary. But he acts so differently whenever he's around you, daring himself to let his walls down and be completely vulnerable with you.

With you, he has nothing to hide, shamelessly showing and proving his devotion to you alone; showing you a side that only you get the privilege of seeing it.

Kenji Sato will never cease to treasure you.

@luneariaa. do not repost; reblogs are welcomed. all rights reserved.

[alchemistc]

Seeing all the saltommy headcanons floating around here and I'm obsessed with all of them but consider:

Unrequited saltommy but Sal's the one with feelings. Tommy considers him a good friend and a close confidant and Sal's the only one who Knows about Tommy, so they have their own shorthand and all their in-jokes and Sal plays up the bro thing because he realized five years in that he sort of maybe definitely wants Tommy to bone him and then press a kiss to his forehead and he needs Tommy to stick around for that so Gerrard can never know

Which. Tommy's never thought about it. Given the opportunity, maybe he would have. But Sal never says a word. Sal represses the feeling and dates around and through it all he's in love with his work buddy. They hang out when they're off shift and he listens to Tommy talk about the guys he's seeing casually and how they hate the job, hate that he's in the closet, hate that every time they're out in public he's tense and staring around the room like someone is about to pop out and call him every name in the book. He listens, and he knocks his knee against Tommy's, and they turn on the fights so Tommy has a distraction. And Sal loves him.

And it doesn't matter.

And then Gerrard is out, and they're finally in a place where Sal thinks - maybe. Maybe I could tell him. Maybe we could be something.

And Tommy comes over one night a few months into their revolving door of Captains and he's giddy, he can't stop smiling, he's nursing his beer and picking at the label and

He's met someone. They've been seeing each other and Tommy didn't want to say anything because it felt different than usual. Felt real. This guy understands the secrecy, he understands why Tommy has concerns about being out. He's sweet, and kind, and a bit of a freak in bed, sorry, you don't want to hear about that, and Sal absolutely doesn't but not for the reason Tommy thinks. It's serious. And Tommy had realized he wanted his best friend to know.

So. Sal tells him to bring the guy around, and he can never find a reason not to like him, because he's great. He's great for Tommy, he's fun to hang out with, he doesn't begrudge Tommy keeping the private part of their lives private. He can turn the lovey-dovey look off in a moment, play at being buddies when they're out and about and never seems upset about it. And in privacy, he's pressing a hand to the small of Tommy's back and pressing his lips to the bolt of Tommy's jaw and he always, always drinks Tommy's shitty beer even though Sal can tell he'd prefer a simple Bud Light. He makes Tommy happy.

So Sal lashes out at work instead. He presses, and he pushes, and he calls out captains left and right and does stupid shit for the hell of it. And eventually it bites him in the ass.

Sal loses his house, but for a while there he doesn't lose Tommy. He's there when the relationship with the guy implodes, and there's just never a good opportunity to bring up how he feels. So he doesn't.

They drift. Without the impetus of working together they inevitably just don't spend as much time together.

Sal meets a woman. He likes her. Her laugh is ridiculous. She smiles with her whole face. She's delicate and soft and when she tucks her face under his chin and curls her arms around him she can barely wrap her fingers together behind his back.

He introduces her to Tommy six months in and Tommy is happy for him, Tommy congratulates him, Tommy slaps a big hand to his shoulder and Sal soaks in the warmth and puts it away.

He marries the girl and Tommy orbits his life but they're never as close again. He has a couple kids, and they love uncle Tommy, and he watches Tommy move stations and stop hiding himself and he meets a few of the guys Tommy dates and they never feel right. They're never enough. They don't treat him the way Sal thinks he should be treated. He welcomes them into his home and hates the way they roll their eyes at Uncle Tommy stuffing his big long legs under the kids table so he can paint a butterfly with his daughter, the way they watch him with Sal's son balanced on his shoulders. He hates the way they get quiet when he and Sal are comparing scars and stories about the job. He hates the way they just don't love him enough.

They drift, and swing back together for random nights out or the kids birthdays, see each other less and less as the years pass.

And then he hears in passing that Tommy's reconnected with some of the 118, that he's spending time with all of them again, and he shoots him a text to catch up because you flew into a hurricane to rescue the guy who fired me but mostly he's just curious to know how he managed not to get fired.

Tommy invites him out for drinks. They settle in a corner booth and shoot the shit and Tommy tells him about how Hen is doing, how Howie is doing, about his new buddy Eddie and all the drama surrounding the 118. He keeps eyeing his phone, and Sal doesn't think much of it until Tommy's smile lines start to dimple and he tips his head up and grins, wide and happy as he waves at the guy who'd just stepped in.

Sal's pretty sure he recognizes him. One of the 118, maybe even the guy who'd filled the spot Sal had left open there. His grin is wide and his eyes are bright and Tommy shifts out of the booth to hug him and they linger in it, Tommy's face pressed into his neck and the guys hands drifting low across Tommy's waist, and when Tommy turns to introduce him as Buck the guys face scrunches up like that's a strange way to introduce him but he shakes Sal's hand and he slips right into the booth and he's rattling off a million questions like he's heard a hundred and two stories he wants Sal to confirm.

And Sal - he doesn't remember ever enjoying time with Tommy's boyfriends, doesn't remember seeing Tommy's gaze so focused and intent, so heavy. But this Buck guy keeps a hand on Tommy's knee, or his neck, not in a possessive way really, just like he can't quite stop reminding himself that Tommy is there with him, and Tommy is playing it cool but he's soaking it up, rolling his eyes at Buck's praise but ducking his head when Buck's not looking, darting gazes through his eyelashes and desperately fighting grins and giving the same energy back and no one, no one has ever treated Tommy so delicately, so carefully, no one has ever shot Tommy bedroom eyes with quite so much unadulterated adoration.

Buck goes to buy another round and Tommy's eyes flit to Sal's.

"He's a lot," Sal says, because he's not quite sure how to encapsulate "I know you guys said this was still fairly new but I'm already planning out the bachelor party where you get drunk and soppy and tell me you wish he was here with you."

"I should have mentioned he might come," Tommy tells him, and Sal narrows in on that.

"Why didn't you?"

Tommy shifts. His shoulders curl in. He chews on the inside of his cheek. "I figured some things out, after I started at Harbor. Took a long look at my life up to that point. The way you always hated every guy I introduced you to percolated long enough for me to understand it."

It's Sal's turn to feel like a jackass. "You thought I'd hate him too."

"I hoped you wouldn't."

Sal sighs. Catches sight of Buck tilting sideways at the bartop so he can send an eager grin in Tommy's direction. If he had a tail he'd be wagging it, Sal thinks, and then he thinks a little harder. About the easy way Tommy grins back, about the way he eyes Buck up and down, leering a little for his audience of one, and the way Buck bites his lip and his gaze goes dark and heady and the way he has to fucking blink himself out of it when the bartender hands him their drinks.

Sal knocks his knuckles on the table. "He fucks it up I'm reserving the right to show up unannounced at his job to make him fix it," Sal tells him, and Tommy's gaze is a little misty when it meets Sal's.

Buck slides in next to Tommy and passes out drinks and when he leans back and starts on a tirade about the travesty of shot pours he'd just witnessed, his hand lands a lot higher up Tommy's leg than it has all night. Tommy takes a heavy pull off his beer and grins at Buck like he's never been more enchanted by another living soul.

Sal's incensed when Tommy refuses to have a bachelor party unless both grooms are involved.

[not-magdi]

-shower / pablo gavi

Warnings: smut 18+

Words: 1.1k

Reading Time: 4min 24 sec

A/N

I got this as a request and I haven't written a smut in quite a minute so I hope you enjoy it! Ps. I didn't proofread it so there might be some mistakes.

Love y'all Magdi <3

The absence of Pablo stumbling towards you and falling into your arms when you come home usually confused you as you came home from university that day. 

Letting your bag lie in the hallway, you start to search for your missing boyfriend, who should be at home, at least somewhere. 

After not finding him in the living room and the kitchen, you decide to start looking for him upstairs. Just as you were about to take the first step upstairs, you heard the faint noises of the shower running. Smiling to yourself, you sneak up the stairs, wanting to give Pablo a bit of a scare. 

Sneakingly opening the door to his ensuite bathroom, where you were met with Pablo's naked and defined back. Halting your movements, you take a moment to admire your naked boyfriend. 

Slowly, you felt a heat building up between your legs, encouraging you to press them together tightly. You quickly change your plan and start to carefully peel your clothes off your body. After the last piece of clothing falls off your body, you carefully step into the shower, letting the warm water fall on your body. 

You start to place soft kisses on Pablo's shoulders, which has him flinching away and quickly turning around to face you. 

"Shit Amor, you scared me!" 

"Sorry baby, I just couldn't resist." 

His face of horror turned into a face of lust quickly as he started to let his eyes wander over your naked body. 

"Well I don't mind it one bit." 

"Sure you don't." You answer him with a soft giggle. 

Pablo then reaches out to take your face into his hands, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. The two of you continued to kiss until you broke it as you felt Pablo's hands starting to roam over the smooth curves of your body. 

"P-Pablo", you let out a soft gasp. 

"Yes Amor"

"Touch me, please." 

At that, Pablo wastes not a second and cups your cunt with his palm, earning himself a moan from you. Wanting to hear that sound again, Pablo inserts a finger, which has your knees nearly giving out. You find support in Pablo as you wrap your arms around his shoulders to not fall over. 

You let out a shuddering breath, completely losing yourself in the pleasure that was consuming your whole body. But the heat between your legs only grew more. You knew you needed more. You needed him.

Pablo knew what you wanted. He felt how your walls fluttered and clenched around his fingers, but he wanted you to say it, knowing how shy you can get in situations like these.

"Pablo, I need you." You whimpered into his ear.  

"Oh but baby, you already have me." His mocking tone had your cheeks burning bright red.

"Y-you know what I mean." Swallowing, you try to concentrate, but his fingers that were still working their magic made it nearly impossible. 

"Do I?" You could hear the smirk in his voice as he continued to mock you. 

"Oh for fuck's sake Pablo, fuck me already!" You say growing incredibly frustrated. 

Smirking Pablo removes his fingers from your cunt, bringing them to his mouth to suck the juices off of them. You let out a slight whimper at the sight of his eyes rolling back while tasting you. 

Pablo then grabs your hips tightly, turning you around so you face the cold, tiled wall of his shower, your nipples instantly getting hard at the coldness of the wall. 

You feel how Pablo presses his body behind yours, his head beside yours, whispering dirty things into your ear. 

"Gonna make you feel so good baby, can't wait to get inside you, to feel you sqeezing me oh so tight." 

You felt your cunt dripping at his words, your hole clenching around thin air. 

Feeling proud about how he can make your body react, he interlocks one hand with yours, holding it against the shower wall. With the other one, he grips his painfully hard cock, guiding it to your entrance. 

Laying his head on your shoulder, he sinks himself into you, both of you letting out sinful sounds at the feeling of being connected. Gripping your waist with his now free hand, he starts to grind himself into you, giving you some time to adjust before starting to thrust at a desperate pace. 

"A-Ah Pablo, fuck so good", you barely manage to get out as Pablo starts to speed up. 

Pablo stops leaving wet kisses all over your shoulders, leaning next to your ear, "Yeah does that feel good? Do I make you feel good?" 

You arch your back at his words, which results in Pablo reaching your G-spot at every single thrust, making you see stars. 

"Ah, yes Pablo you make me feel so good, so fucking good." 

Happy with your answer he grips your hips even tighter, slamming his hips into yours at a mercyless pace now. 

Letting out a sound with every thrust, you feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter, making you clench hard around Pablo's cock. 

Pablo feels how your walls squeeze him incredibly tight, making him come extremely close to his orgasm. Not wanting to cum before you he takes the hand that was previously holding yours down to your clit, rubbing it at a fast pace. 

With a loud moan, you come hard around Pablo, your juices covering his length completely. Quickly pulling out, Pablo massages his cock rapidly painting you back with his ropes of cum.

Turning around, you wrap your arms around him connecting your lips with his. 

The two of you stay in the shower for a bit, washing your bodies in the now cold water of the shower. Pablo then picks you up, carries you outside to the bedroom throws you on the bed before grabbing a towel to dry you off. 

After you were both dried up, Pablo dressed you in one of his shirts and boxers, before he ran downstairs again to get you a glass of water and a snack.  

Returning back to the bedroom, he cuddles himself up next to you on the bed and lays you on top of him before feeding you some bits of the granola bar he got for you. 

"You ok? I was quite rough now wasn't I?" Pablo asks you in a soft voice. 

"I'm perfect, you were perfect. I love you", you whisper into his ear, your eyes already closing. 

Squeezing you tight Pablo kisses your lips softly before closing his eyes himself, falling into a deep slumber. 

---------

Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedbakc is always welcome !! ❤️

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ angel baby ] j. drysdale

pairing : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : Jamie’s fiancé tells him and their son that she is having a baby after taking a test

warning(s) : pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage

author’s note : i am having baby fever and am missing jimmy so i combined the two and this was born ! enjoy

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Her body has felt foreign to her for almost two weeks. It started with the sudden cravings she’s had, then she was throwing up whatever she ate like she had the stomach flu.

There was no fever, no chills, no sweats. Only throwing up whatever food she was eating. That was the biggest red flag she noticed that caused her to go out and buy a box of pregnancy tests at the drug store.

Could it be food poisoning? Probably. The fact that it has been two weeks of throwing up worries her that it’s more than eating bad fish. Not to mention, she never throws up, except for when she was pregnant with Blake.

She decides to take the test one morning while Jamie is feeding their 2-year-old son Blake breakfast before Jamie goes to the Flyers training center for an early practice and she takes Blake to daycare so she can do what she needs to do today. The sooner she can take the test, the better.

Her hands shake as she opens up one of the tests and takes it. The last time she took a pregnancy test, it came up positive. Then she lost the baby a month later, just after she found out she would be having a baby girl. This was about a year after her son was born and she couldn’t wait for Blake to have a baby sister.

She puts the test down on the sink and turns her back to it. She leans against the counter and crosses her arms as she tries to keep her emotions in check.

There’s a knock on the door and Jamie’s voice follows a second later. “You okay?” he asks. “You don’t usually spend this long in the bathroom so I wanted to come and check on you.”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she calls back. “I’ll be out in a second.”

“Alright.”

Footsteps trail away from the door and she turns back to the sink. With a heavy, shaky sigh, she looks down at the test on the counter.

A little + greets her.

One of her hands flies to her mouth to quiet the sob that follows after seeing the plus sign on the test. She squeezes her eyes shut and tears roll down her cheeks. She grips the test in her free hand and leans against the counter so she doesn’t fall. She doesn’t feel very stable on her feet right now.

As soon as Monday, she’s going to the doctor to make sure everything is okay. She is going to make sure she does everything right so she doesn’t lose this baby. She is going to make sure that her body doesn’t betray her this time.

When her tears stop, she walks out of the bathroom with her test behind her back. She walks down the hallway to the kitchen. Jamie is eating breakfast with Blake at the dining room table when she emerges from the hallway.

Jamie tosses a blueberry into the air and catches it in his mouth. Blake’s cute laugh fills the room and Jamie has a huge smile on his face.

It’s enough to bring tears to her eyes again. These are her boys. This is her family. Her growing family.

“I have something for you, Jamie,” she says.

Her fiancée looks up at her. Blake even turns around with a smile on his face. “Mommy!” her son exclaims.

She walks up to Blake and kisses the top of his head. “Hi, my Blakey,” she greets her son. “You wanna give daddy a present?” Blake nods. “Daddy needs to close his eyes.”

When she looks up at Jamie, his eyes are closed and his hand is out. She hands the test to Blake, who puts it in Jamie’s hand.

“Okay,” she says. “Open.”

Jamie’s eyes open and he looks down at his hand. He sees the positive test and snaps his head up to look back at her. “Really?” he asks.

She nods and Jamie shoots out of his chair. He wraps his arms around her shoulder and she buries her face in his chest. “I’m going to make sure that we have this baby,” she tells him. “Blake is going to have a baby sibling. I promise.”

“It just wasn’t our time last time,” Jamie replies. “It’s our time now.”

She looks up at him. “Our time.”

Blake asks, “Is something wrong with mommy?”

Both of them look over at their son. She crouches down beside the chair. “Nothing’s wrong, baby,” she softly says to Blake. “You don’t remember but about a year ago, you were going to have a baby sister. Unfortunately, baby sister went to heaven before we got to meet her. Your baby sister gave us another baby that’s in mommy’s belly right now.”

“There’s a baby in your tummy?” Blake asks.

“There’s a baby in my tummy,” she confirms. “You’re going to have a baby sibling in a few months.”

Blake celebrates and she takes her son out of the high chair. Her son wraps himself around his mom. Jamie wraps his arms around both of them. She kisses the side of Blake’s head and looks up at Jamie. He leans down and presses a light kiss to his fiancé’s cheek.

“I can’t wait to watch you become a mother again,” he tells her. “I can’t wait to watch you love both our babies.”

“I can’t wait to watch you become a girl dad,” she replies. “I just have this feeling that we’re going to have a baby girl.”

Jamie smiles. “We’ll find out soon.”

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[miss-daisy04]

RED, GREEN, AND, BEIGE FLAGS ➞ SKZ OT8

➤ PAIRING: GN!READER X SKZ OT8

➤ GENRE: MISCELLANEOUS

➤ WARNINGS: SERIOUS RED FLAGS, ETC.

CHAN:

RED — CONTROLLING. Will always attempt to control a situation by either doing it himself, pushing you away within the hustle, or getting you to do it somehow in the midst of manipulating you to do so.

GREEN — EMPATHETIC. Anytime you cry, trust me, he will be too. Emotionally he hates seeing someone upset to the point where they burst, especially because he knows and understands that feeling.

BEIGE — OVER USES "ㅋㅋㅋ" AND "ㅎㅎㅎ". Do I need an explanation? Hopefully, nobody finds it annoying and can enjoy it since it is a cute habit of Channie's.

MINHO:

RED — MICROMANAGER. Honestly, it's because he doesn't trust you, but you can trust him because of this. It may seem confusing but since he watches over you a little too much, it can sometimes be comforting knowing you can also rely on him.

GREEN — TRUSTABLE. Ties in perfectly with the last one. Although he tells white lies here and there, no one is technically capable of never lying. But since his lies are so small, and wouldn't affect anything in the first place, you can easily trust him.

BEIGE — HAS FULL CONVERSATIONS WITH HIS PETS. Soonie, Doogie, and Dori basically make up Minho's full friend group. He enjoys believing that they can actually talk but choose to be quieter.

CHANGBIN:

RED — OBSESSIVE. Changbin has the feeling that he needs to control and show you that he cares a lot more than it seems since he loves you like a piece of treasure. He is also very delusional about you. He thinks about you 24/7, only you on his mind.

GREEN — ENCOURAGING. Best hype-man ever. If you ever feel like giving up, ring this man and he will 100% boost your confidence. Apparently, he learned this from his "right-hand man" (who still hasn't been revealed yet) and chooses to use it on you.

BEIGE — DOESN'T BELIEVE IN ALARMS. Timing was made for Changbin and timing itself is also scared of him. If he wakes up late, that destiny was just chosen for him. He also requires every hour of beauty sleep he can get so he isn't cranky during the day when he comes to work late.

HYUNJIN:

RED — BLAME SHIFTING. If you ever bring up something you dislike about another person he'll hit you with the "And you don't do that?". Whenever he does something wrong he plays it off as something you made him do, which can be outrageous.

GREEN — INSPIRING. Guys, this is Hyunjin we're talking about. Some of the random stuff he says could be painted onto a piece of art and sold for billions of dollars. Master of motivating quotes whenever you feel down.

BEIGE — TALKS IN HIS SLEEP. Says anything and everything while asleep. Most of the time it's about work, friends, or everyday occurrences, but once you've caught him dreaming about eating food.

JISUNG:

RED — SECRETIVE. This one isn't the hugest red flag, but it sure is some tint of red. He tries to keep unnecessary things a secret, which leads to arguments within your household. To be honest, he doesn't need to hide anything because you know he would never cheat.

GREEN — FLEXIBLE TO CHANGE. If Jisung ever made a mistake (in his opinion he never has, yet) he will be open to changing himself for the better. At all costs, he cannot afford to lose you.

BEIGE — PUTS EVERYONE'S CONTACTS AS THEIR FULL NAME. He only does this out of respect. He started doing this after one time when he met a dude and gave each other's phone numbers away, and he assumed that the man was younger than him.

FELIX:

RED — DENYING. Have you ever had to accuse this man of something? No. But his friends and workplace have. This only leads him to deny any allegations, true or not, just because he feels like it.

GREEN — POSITIVE ATTITUDE. Easiest to explain. Felix is definitely optimistic and can help others, including you, adapt to that specific mindset.

BEIGE — GIVES HUMAN NAMES TO INANIMATE OBJECTS. This is the cutest thing ever. It's also scary how he remembers every single name. He could pull out a bag he received for his birthday 5 years ago and still remember the quirky name.

SEUNGMIN:

RED — CODEPENDENT. Very similar to obsessive but will immediately take action. Seungmin always puts your needs before himself. Since he has a need for approval, he was known as the "relationship addict" in his grade.

GREEN — HONEST. Honest to the point of being super blunt. If you ask him about his opinion, it will absolutely be true with no doubt about it. Even his white lies are noticeable.

BEIGE — VAGUE. The vaguest of them all, if we're considering how he forgets things in the easiest places, etc. However, since he's honest, Seungmin never uses it to hide his true feelings.

JEONGIN:

RED — GASLIGHTING. Commonly this happens when he tries to convince you that one of your "problems" isn't actually a problem or when he lies despite the proof overruling him. He doesn't have a specific reason to do it except that he genuinely likes messing with people, sometimes.

GREEN — RECOGNITION. Even when you do something as little as taking the trash out, he'll give you a little smile and say "Good job". It may seem sarcastic but it's very easy to tell between sarcastic Jeongin and regular/kind Jeongin.

BEIGE — DRINKS WARM TAP WATER. Somehow he actually prefers warm water over cold/room-temperature water. He claims that it helps with digestion but he just likes warm water generally.

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS! IF YOU DID PLEASE SHOW ADMIRATION OF MY WORK BY LIKING, REBLOGGING, SHARING, OR COMMENTING! IT REALLY SHOWS ME HOW I AM DOING AS A WRITER ♡

[angellayercake]

Champagne Kisses

Papa Emeritus III x Femreader x FemOC | NSFW | 3600~ words

this one is for the bisexuals!!! 🩷💜💙 happy pride month everyone :) warnings: pwp, threesome, m/f/f, fingering, pussy eating, blow jobs, pinv sex, facials, cream pies, cum eating, all the bodily fluids, unsafe sex, unnamed oc photo source here

The smooth gloss she was wearing doesn't feel much different from Papa’s grease paint you think, sucking on her lower lip until she gasps into your mouth. You had been kissing sometime now and you can imagine the mess your desperation has made of both of your faces. The angle is a little awkward, leaning over Papa where he is sitting between you at the end of the bed but you manage to work your hand between you and up her top until you can tease her nipple through the thin lace of her bra.

Papa lets out a low moan of appreciation at her reaction to your attentions as he encourages you both, his gloved fingers woven into your hair. He loves watching you like this, giving and receiving pleasure under his guidance. You pull back for a moment to catch your breath taking in her smudged make up and blissed expression. The night had barely even begun and you already had her lost in pleasure, subject to your and Papa’s mercy.

He let’s go of you for a moment reaching for the half full bottle of champagne you had been ignoring in favour of each other, bringing the neck of the bottle to your joined lips. He pours a slow stream between you, all but a few errant drops caught in your panting mouths. You follow the sticky trail down her chin with your tongue, kissing your way back up to swallow her gasping moans.

‘How does she taste amore mia?’ He whispers in your ear just loud enough for you both to hear.

‘Like champagne Papa.’ You can feel the last of the bubbles still tingling on your tongue from the mouthful you had shared and you crave more leaning in to close the space between you and capture her lips once more but his grip firm in your hair makes you pause.

‘I do enjoy champagne,’ his voice is so low you can feel it rumbling through his chest and then you get a front row seat to Papa taking his taste. He tips her head towards him until she is perfectly angled for him to capture her parted lips. A kiss from Papa is all it takes to steal the breath from your lungs and the sense from your head and it seems she is not immune either, leaning heavily on you both as Papa deftly seeks out the last traces of champagne in her mouth. Her eyelids flutter rapidly as she enjoys his undivided attention, her hand even leaving you completely to grasp his neck, the tips of her fingers digging into the hair at his nape.

A whine leaves you involuntarily, not wanting to lose both their attention completely. Papa chuckles into her mouth but doesn’t stop. He catches your eye, glancing sideways and watching your desperation build, almost daring you to act. You are unsure whose attention you want more but your mouth waters as you watch them together. Finally taking matters into your own hands you push her top up until you can cup her breasts in both hands but even the thin lace between you feels like too much. You make short work of clasps until her soft skin is bare against your hands and her sensitive nipples squeezed between your fingers and she is shuddering against Papa.

She breaks their kiss, her mouth falling slack and her eyes blinking slowly at you as you continue your teasing. She is beautiful still even with the black and grey of Papa’s paints adding to the mess on her face. You squeeze more firmly until she falls back into you with a moan, licking and sucking sloppily at your lips until you open them for her. Distractedly your hands slide to her waist until you can pull her firmly against you but another disappointed whine slips from you when the layers of clothes between you prevent you feeling her skin against yours. He squeezes the back of your neck, chasing the shivers down your spine with his fingers and drawing your attention back to him.

‘Ready for more, mie principesse?’ His intense mismatched eyes flit between the two of you, eagerly anticipating what was to come of your evening and so you take the opportunity to appreciate your Papa. His shirt is already half unbuttoned by your earlier searching fingers, never missing an opportunity to paw at his soft hairy chest. His paint is smudged, turning grey on his brow, his mouth and chin. He is handsome with his paint and without but like this he is charmingly debauched, his hair falling out from its usual perfect style only adding to the effect. You both nod and you smile giddily, butterflies of excitement and lust swirling in your stomach. It is always a thrill for you sitting on the precipice of intimacy like this whether it be with the familiarity of your Papa or the novelty of someone new like the beautiful woman joining you tonight. 

He slips his fingers under the hem of your dress, teasingly uncovering you even knowing full well that you are wearing absolutely nothing underneath. He pulls it up and over your head, leaving you bare to both of their eyes and you relish in their attention. He growls, wrapping an arm around your waist and dragging you firm against him. Your lips are captured by his and it is your turn to be devastated by only his kiss. Like always he makes your knees weak and your brain fog so when he releases you it takes you a moment to register he is speaking. 

‘Will you help our guest undress?’ He poses it as a question but it sounds like an order and not one that you feel inclined to disobey. You find your feet and help her to hers, easily divesting her of the top and bra you had already partially removed. You stroke the newly revealed skin as you strip her marvelling at how beautiful every single inch of her is. She turns her back to you so you can unzip her skirt and lift it over her head and then she is left in nothing but her lacey pants. 

Papa has lost his shirt while the two of you have been occupied and it is a test of your willpower to not turn all your attention to his now bare chest. His trousers are also undone giving him room to palm his cock as he watched you undress her. He stands, letting them fall to the floor so he can step out of them without letting go of his cock which he manages with a surprising amount of grace given his usual issues with balance. He gestures for the two of you to take his place on the bed so you do, helping her shimmy out her underwear before lying back on the soft sheets.

She is finally laid out before you and you are paralysed, unable to decide where you want to start on the feast of pleasurable possibilities. Papa’s gaze burns into your back impatiently but when all you do is trace the perfect curve of her waist he takes matters into his own hands. He comes close, his warm chest pressed to your back and his thick hair tickling your sensitive skin. He sucks on your earlobe, the barest graze of his teeth and his hot breath on your neck send shivers down your spine. His large hands wrap around your wrists guiding your hands up her body until you are cupping her breasts once more. They are soft and heavy in your hands all at once as you push them together, her fullness almost spilling between your fingers. Papa has yet to remove his gloves but you think you would like to see his larger hands on her.

‘Will you take off your gloves Papa?’ you ask reverently, catching his gaze over your shoulder. He nods and offers you his finger, seeking your help. Gently, you nip the tip of the glove so he can pull his hand free. He takes it from your teeth grazing your lip with his thumb before offering his other hand to you for the same assistance. He throws them to the side of the bed, floating to the floor forgotten and now it is your turn to guide his hands. He leans forward over her, forcing you to fold in front of him until you are forced to crawl to your knees over her. She has barely moved, quietly watching you interact with your Papa with round eager eyes, just waiting for both of your attention to fall back to her. He cups her breasts just as you were moments ago. You were right, his handsome hands fit her ample shape perfectly, her dusky nipples almost a perfect match for his olive skin.

‘Touch her amore,’ his voice soft but still commanding and you have no choice to obey. Whether deliberately or by chance he has positioned you in exactly the right place to capture her nipple between your lips but you don’t just yet. Instead you trace around his fingers with the tip of your tongue where his strong grip meets her soft flesh but before long the temptation of her pebbled nipples is too strong. With a flick of your tongue you have her arching her back, encouraging your exploration of her body. She is so sensitive, moaning as you suck and nibble on her until Papa has to shift his grip to her waist to keep her in place for you. Giving her some mercy you work your way down her body sucking and nibbling a path down her soft stomach. 

Papa follows your every move, pressed against your back. He watches your every action offering both his encouragement and his guidance until you reach your final destination knelt between her legs. He reaches around you, opening her up for the two of you to enjoy, her folds flushed pink and already glistening with arousal. You ghost a touch over her that has her shaking, swiping at her slick because you just can’t wait to taste her. The two of you moan almost simultaneously as you suck your finger into your mouth, the flavour perfectly salty sweet in a way that only a woman can be. You pull your finger out of your mouth slowly, holding her gaze and keeping her in suspense of what you have planned for her next.   

Papa continues to hold her open as you sink your spit slick finger inside her tight hole. She is so wet and so warm but you feel resistance as you stroke around carefully to find her gspot. You are definitely going to need to prepare her to take Papa’s cock comfortably and with that in mind you press your mouth to her. You lick and suck at her until she can’t decide between pressing her hips down on to your finger or up into your face even as you ignore her more sensitive spots to lavish attention on her sensitive inner thighs. 

He is still pressed closely behind you, his hard cock pressing against your ass. You want to push back against him, angle yourself so he might slip right inside you right then but you know you won’t be the first to get his cock tonight. He must sense your need though as the hand not holding your hair back from obstructing his view begins to work its way down your body. He tweaks your nipples just how you like, pulling and twisting the bars of your piercings just to the point of pain before soothing them with gently massaging fingertips. His hands drift lower until he cups you firmly, his palm hard against your clit making you ache.  

‘If she is as wet as you amore mia she must be ready for me.’ He whispers in your ear kissing sloppily at your neck. His fingers dip inside you feeling out how turned on you are right now and not being disappointed. He pushes his hips against you in time with his fingers, you hope imagining how easily he might just slip inside you right now as you were not a moment ago, but it still is not the time as much as you might both wish it. 

‘Almost Papa.’ You don’t want to keep him waiting longer then you must so you slide a second finger alongside the first. ‘She is so tight,’ you say with a groan picturing what she was going to feel like around your Papa.  

‘She is going to feel so good for you.’ His cock twitches against you as you speak so with a few more careful stretches you pull your finger from her. He helps you back to your feet and you use the new leverage to position her hips right at the end of the bed exactly where Papa will want her. You climb up onto the bed, kneeling over her and she grabs your ankle to ground herself. You offer her a smile and give her one last kiss before getting into position. 

‘Look at you both,’ he moans. He stands at the foot of the bed stroking his cock slowly as he takes you both in. ‘Such a tasty treat for Papa eh?’ He steps closer bringing his dick level with your face. 

‘Will you get me ready as well amore mia?’ he asks with a wink. Part of you wants to just swallow down his length in one go but the other part of you wins, smoothing your hand over his hairy stomach, fingers catching in the thickness as he continues to stroke. You have always loved his tummy, supporting him through his initial discomfort with his post retirement body. In your eyes he was always perfect but the main benefit to his rounded tummy was there was even more of him to love and worship. 

You drag your hands downwards, taking over his stroking. He is thick in your hand and so hard you swear you can feel the thud of his pulse. You stroke him once, twice, three times before bringing the head of his cock to your lips. Filling your mouth with saliva you open up to him and he needs no more encouragement to sink into the wet heat of your mouth. It is difficult to only concentrate on the job at hand with him hot and heavy on your tongue but you do your best coating his length with spit so as to ease the way for both him and her. He pulls out reluctantly leaving your mouth empty and watering but the pulse of arousal you feel as he lines himself up to her entrance and pushes in with little to no resistance makes it all worth it. 

He sinks into her heat so slowly, inch by controlled inch, her thighs shaking from the maddening pace. You can’t help admire his restraint even as you marvel at how her body stretches to accommodate him. He pulls out just as slowly setting what must be an infuriatingly steady pace. You match him stroke for stroke, lapping at her clit as he rolls his hips in the way you know grinds the head of his cock perfectly against your inner walls. His hardness looks incredible sinking into her wet heat and you can’t resist the enticing wetness gathering at the base of his cock with every thrust. So you don’t, ignoring her clit in favour of feeling with your mouth where she is stretched around him the blend of their arousal making you almost drunk with lust. 

He slips from her, gripping his erection and offering you a proper taste. You open your mouth wide, sinking down his length as slowly as he was thrusting into her pussy only a moment ago, lathing him with your tongue in order to taste every drop. With a final swallow you take all of him, your nose buried in the soft hair at his base, luxuriating in the smell and the taste of him but sooner than you like he is pulling back leaving you empty and yearning for more. 

‘Amore, we shouldn’t leave our guest unattended,’ he chides you, but you need little encouragement to return your attention to her swollen clit. He sinks back into her as you swirl your tongue around her in apology for leaving her neglected and although she is incapable of words right now you take her broken moans and her panting hotly against your thigh as acceptance. 

He finds his rhythm, fucking into her with short hard strokes that you know have her seeing stars so you try to match him. Sucking on her steadily and flicking her with your tongue every time he bottoms out inside her until her moans turn to sobs beneath you. Her body starts to tense, writhing as her release begins to build inside of her. You grip her hips tightly keeping her still and Papa’s thrust start to build momentum, the slapping of his hips forcing you lean back and give him the room he needs to fuck her properly. You find her clit with your fingers now, trying to keep pace with Papa’s more frantic thrusts but it only takes a few more strokes before her body goes taught and she cums on his cock. You watch her pussy clenching around him as he grunts above you, fucking her through it until the wave of pleasure subsides. 

‘Fuck, I am going to cum amore mia,’ he groans as his rhythm begins to stutter. He pulls out of her spasming hole, fisting his cock frantically. The head glistens with her juices and his pre cum and makes your mouth water and you watch mesmerised as the head seems to swell and his balls twitch up as his climax approaches. His eyes flit between your face and her used pussy and you can guess that he wants to paint both of you with his spend. You drop your head and open your mouth just in time because with a final grunt he cums. 

Thick spurts splatter over your face and her pussy, over and over. He pants, squeezing at the base of his cock milking that last drops directly into your mouth. You close your lips around him as he starts to soften, lapping at his slit and suckling his tip until it begins to recede back into his foreskin and protect him from over sensitivity. You let his dick drop free from your mouth falling heavily against his thigh and he drops to his knees almost instantly and pulls you into a deep kiss. He wipes your face free of his cum, kissing you soundly once more before backing away slightly with a smirk. 

‘Shall we clean her up,’ he asks but you beat him to it, licking at the mess covering her clit, only pausing to watch her twitch in pleasure. She doesn’t protest so you continue carefully, Papa joining you with a moan as he dips his tongue into her used hole. When the last of his cum is cleared you begin to sit up but he holds you a moment longer, pulling you into a slow sensuous kiss even as your faces are sticky from both of their juices. He pulls back when he is finished, eyes fond even as you try to imagine the mess you must look right now. 

You climb off her, sitting on the edge of the bed, feeling oddly satisfied despite the ignored heat burning in your core. Leaning over her you smooth back her hair where it sticks to her forehead with sweat and drop a kiss there, then her cheeks and her nose until she is giggling underneath you. Together you crawl to the head of the bed where Papa is waiting, watching you again fondly and the three of you collapse into the soft pile of pillows with you sandwiched between them. 

He manhandles you, turning you until you are facing her and he can spoon up close behind you. They are both exhausted, her eyes half lidded as she smiles at you lazily and tired waves seem to roll off him even as he runs his hands lazily over your skin. 

‘You have been very good to us tonight, amore mia,’ he murmurs against the back of your neck. His warm breath makes your hairs stand on end and you can’t help pressing back against him. His cock twitches valiantly where it is pressed between you but it is more a token reaction. Instead his hand slides down your thigh lifting your leg and encouraging you to hook your knee over her hip. 

Your core is entirely open for them, the air feeling cool against your overheated skin. She reaches for you first with her nimble fingers teasing your clit as she distracts you with a kiss. Your whole body shudders with it, eager for every touch after having waited so long. Then you feel his fingers at your entrance. He pushes two fingers into you, the build up of your slick easing the way until they are buried to the knuckle. His crooked teeth find your shoulder, teasing at a harder pressure just how you like so when he begins to stroke your gspot unrelentingly you find yourself quite trapped between them. 

They aren’t quite in sync, lacking the experience you and your Papa have but their off rhythm means you can grind your hips back and forth with them until your mind is almost lost in an infinite loop of pleasure. He guides her to your nipples somehow knowing exactly what you need to tip you over the edge, directing her how to use her teeth to drive you to distraction. The feeling is overwhelming, forcing you closer and closer to your climax until you are dangling by a thread. 

Everything seems to speed up while seemingly happening in slow motion so when he grazes your nape with his teeth and she tweaks your nipple just so and he tap tap rubs at your g spot and she squeezes your clit between her fingers it all narrows down to one spot in your core. For a moment it's like all your senses go numb and then it is exploding like fire and ice coursing through your nerves all at the same time. You feel it through your whole body from the palms of your hands to the soles of your feet and then your mind goes blank.  You don’t remember much after your orgasm, the pleasure so intense after such a build up. When you come too you find yourself dozing in your Papa’s arms with her curled against your chest and you can’t remember ever feeling so content and satisfied is all that crosses your mind as you fall back to sleep.  

P.s if there are typos I will fix them in the morning

[tkwrites]

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

Gif from offside-the-lines

Title: It Doesn’t Matter - Part I

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Beginning: Nico Hischier x Original female character 

Summary: Nico and Lena have been friends ever since he played in Halifax. When an opportunity of a lifetime brings Lena to New York, Nico offers up his apartment as her home base despite the fact that he’s been painfully, desperately in love with her for the last six years.

Warnings: Slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, talks of masturbation, but nothing is described, Cliff hanger ending (I’m sorry, I had to!)

Word count: 7,300

Anonymous asked: I saw that you rebloged the Nico fic so I have to ask would you ever be open to write for him?, because the combination of your perfect writing and that sweet man, I would die for sure 😂

Comments: A thousand thanks to 🥭 Anon for requesting this fic! Nico has been such a fun, sweet character to write. I’m sorry for the cliffhanger ending, but I envisioned this fic in 3 parts, and this one had to end here. I hope you enjoy it! 

If you liked this, please let 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 I

“You coming to the bar tonight?” Jesper asked. 

“I can’t, I’m helping Lena move in.” 

“Wait,” Jack said, barging his way into their conversation as per usual, “Lena, Lena? Like Lena from Halifax who you’ve been in love with since you were seventeen?” 

Nico felt a blush flood his cheeks as he nodded. 

“Moving in?”

“She’s coming to New York for an art program this year, so I told her she could stay with me.” 

Jack stared at him, one of his eyebrows cocked up. “You’re sure that’s a good idea?” 

Nico shook his head. 

“No it’s not a good idea, or no you’re not sure?” 

He shrugged. Hell if he knew. He was thrilled to have her close by but knew it would likely be torturous at the same time. 

“Who is Lena?”

“She’s this girl he met when he was playing for the Mooseheads,” Jack explained. “You haven’t heard about her? He never shuts up about her.” 

Blushing, Nico tossed an elbow pad in Jack’s direction. 

“Did you stay with her family or something?” 

“No,” Nico said. “She was friends with our goalie.”

“They’ve been besties ever since, and Nico still hasn’t grown the balls to ask her out.” 

Nico glared at him. 

“What?” Jack asked, shrugging. “You haven’t.”

“It’s complicated.”

“What’s so complicated about it? You like her. She’s single. You’re single. What’s the problem?” 

“I don’t…” he broke off. 

Keeping Lena as a friend was more important than the possibility of him spilling his feelings and risking losing her. Plus, he wasn’t totally sure she’d respond the way he wanted, and he was pretty certain he wouldn’t survive it if she turned him down. 

“So, in the meantime, you’re just breaking up with every girl you’ve dated and overlooking every other woman because they don’t measure up, but you won’t ask her out, so you’re just pining full time.” 

It was stunning, really, how he could talk so accurately about other peoples relationships without seeing the flaws in his own. Nico knew from experience not to bring Madeline up. In situations of talking about failure in relationships, Jack could dish all day long, but he could never quite take it if it was served back at him. 

“Betty at 2:00,” Jack murmured. Watching a petite woman with light hair enter the bar. She had a pretty, heart shaped face and big, expressive eyes.

She turned around, laughing at whoever was following her. Despite the fact that he couldn’t hear her, Jack knew her laugh was the kind that made other people want to laugh along.

Instead of the friend he expected, Nico stepped into the bar after her, looking a little punch drunk. 

Jack nearly choked on his beer.

Well, shit. 

If Lena was as funny and sweet as Nico made her out to be, Jack didn’t think he’d be able to move on from her either. 

She said something to Nico, and he tore his gaze from her to look around the bar. Their eyes met, and he raised a hand in greeting. Jack waved back. 

As they made their way closer, Jack realized her hair was actually light pink. And she had a nose ring: a delicate, jeweled thing hanging from her septum. Instead of calling up a resemblance to a hooked bull, like he usually thought those piercings looked, it made her face more lovely and interesting. The dainty diamond rested in the curve of her cupid's bow, emphasizing the shape of her top lip.

Lena felt herself smile upon walking up to the group of hockey players and their partners. She’d grown up with boys like this, and walking up to them was a bit like walking into her childhood. 

“It’s Jack, right?” Lena asked. She’d seen photos of him from Nico and recognized him right away, along with Jesper, who was sitting on his other side.

“In the flesh. You must be Lena,” Jack said, standing up. He shot her a flirtatious, charming smile.

She couldn’t quite hide her eye roll, “he’s just as cheesy as you said,” she whispered to Nico, who was still standing off to her left. 

Shoulders shaking with laughter, Nico pulled out a chair for her before settling into the one beside it.

God, even in this awful club lighting, she looked beautiful. The finer parts of her face were dulled in the dim, but everything he could see made him long for her. 

Maybe Jack was right. Maybe this was a terrible idea.   

“So, Lena,” Jesper said, leaning back in his chair, “what brings you to the city?” 

“I got accepted into an intensive year-long art program at the New York Institute of Art. I’ve been applying for years, and they finally accepted me.” 

“What kind of art do you do?” Dawson asked. 

He’d wandered to the table as soon as they sat down, and Nico was talking himself down from moving to sit between them. Dawson wouldn’t stop looking at Lena like she’d just fallen from the moon, and he wanted nothing more than to fall into her bed. 

“I paint, but I do a lot of charcoal drawings and pastels, too.” 

“Like the colors?” 

She was used to this question and laughed indulgently at the confused expression on his face. “No, pastels are just pigment with a binder. It’s kind of like paint, but they’re not liquid.” 

“She does amazing stuff,” Nico cut in, knowing she wouldn’t brag about her own work. He was happy to do it for her. “She did all the art in my apartment.” 

The first time Lena had visited him, she was aghast at how little was on his walls. It made his whole house look like a hospital - too sterile and characterless. No wonder he was depressed when he wasn’t playing. His home looked like a place made for leaving. 

So she’d painted for him. Ten canvases in total. Most were landscapes, but there was also a small abstract he always suspected was a kind of self portrait and a strange, dark, modern piece - swirls of color chasing each other across the canvas. When he asked about that one, she’d told him his games inspired it - blurs of black and red darting around the ice. 

She’d even done a large landscape of the view from his childhood window, based on a photo he’d sent her several summers before. Rows and rows of misty roofs tucked into the base of the Alps as the mountains loomed over the town. Somehow, she managed to capture the safe, cocooned feeling of home.

Every time he looked at the painting where it hung, taking up nearly the whole wall opposite his bed, it eased some of his homesickness during the long seasons in New Jersey.  

For months, a package he didn’t order would show up at his door, and he’d open it to reveal yet another piece of her to keep with him. 

When the Naters painting arrived, he’d called her practically in tears. She told him she knew he missed home and hoped it would bring a little bit of home to Jersey. 

He forced her to accept repayment for shipping such a large canvas and made her promise to let him pay if she was sending any more. Instead, she’d brought an additional four with her on her next visit.

Dawson looked even more enamored as he said, “that stuff is really good!” 

Nico couldn’t remember Dawson taking any particular interest in the art when he’d been at his house before. Jack had noticed it, which had spurred the conversation about Lena in the first place. 

She offered him a thankful smile that Nico was pleased to see, was void of any flirtation. 

They had a drink a piece before she began to yawn. Nico wasn’t surprised. She’d driven from Halifax to Maine the day before and then from Maine to New Jersey that morning. He’d helped her unload her things before she insisted they come to the kickoff party. 

“I’m really sorry,” she apologized, covering her mouth. 

“You’ve had a long day,” Dawson said, encouraging, “you should go get some sleep.” 

She smiled indulgently at him before standing from the table. She really was exhausted. Plus alcohol always made her sleepy. 

When they got home, Lena asked, “Do you mind if I let cookie out?” 

He shook his head, going to the kitchen to get some water. 

A few minutes later, her light orange tabby cat came skulking into the kitchen, eyeing everything suspiciously. When they made eye contact, Cookie narrowed his eyes as he stalked over. 

After sniffing his socks, he seemed to decide he was the same person he’d always been and rubbed his face on Nicos leg. 

Walking into the kitchen, Lena heard Nico murmuring in German. As always, it made her stomach twist a little. She’d known him for six years, and it wasn’t that she forgot he was from Switzerland so much as she forgot how sexy his voice sounded speaking the language he’d grown up with. Even with her limited understanding of German, she got the distinct impression he sounded more like himself than when he spoke English. 

Rounding the kitchen island, she expected to find him crouched down, talking to one of his siblings on the phone while digging something out of a low drawer. Instead, his phone was nowhere to be found, and he was speaking to Cookie, who had flopped onto his side, happy to be receiving pets. 

“Oh,” she said before she could stop herself. The sight of Nico loving on her cat made her heart thunk into her ribs.

This, right here, is why she originally told him she was staying in the city. 

He had insisted there was no reason she needed to spend the money when he was right across the river. When she’d hesitated, he played his ace, bribing her with Cookie. “You can bring him, and both of you can stay,” he’d said, “you wouldn’t have to leave him with your parents.” 

Even though she knew it would suck to be around him all the time, knowing he didn’t have any interest in her, she’d caved right away.

The problem with Nico was that he was just so damn sweet. He did everything from the bottom of his heart and was genuinely happy to help. As soon as she managed to convince herself she didn’t love him, he would go and do something like insist she stay with him not only for finances, but because she wouldn’t have to leave her cat behind, and feeling would swoop into her heart again.

This was her last undoing for the night. Not only had she watched him carry her things into his apartment, his hockey-hardened body taking the brunt of the weight with ease, she’d had to listen to him laugh and tease while he flashed his dimples at her all day. And now, he was sweet talking her cat in German.

God, how was she going to survive this? 

Nico’s eyes darted up at her noise. He hadn’t heard her come in.  She’d pulled her hair into a bun on the top of her head, but a few of the shorter pieces had escaped, falling around her face. 

Throughout the time he’d known her, her hair had been many different colors. When they met, it had been blonde, then ginger, then purple, then blue. She dyed it back to her natural ashy blonde for a while before going to this pastel pink she’d been maintaining for the last two years. When he asked her why she’d kept it for so long, she said, “I don’t know, it just looks like me.” 

He had to agree. It looked incredible on her, making her skin warm and her hazel eyes bright. 

Wanting yawned in his stomach, and he tore his eyes away before she could see the lovesick expression Jack teased was written all over his face whenever he looked at her. 

“I’m glad to see he’s making himself at home,” Lena said, laughing. 

“He’s sweet,” Nico said, standing. “I thought you’d be in bed.” 

“I wanted to say thanks again,” she said, stepping forward to hug him. 

As his arms wound around her waist, Nico allowed himself a moment of fantasy, imagining she wouldn’t be going to her own room when they turned in for the night. He couldn’t stop his mind from continuing down the fantastical road that living together might be the thing that finally got them from friends over the hill to lovers. 

“I’m happy to have you here,” he said when the fantasy had run its course, and he came back to reality. 

Cookie meowed as if upset at being left out. 

She broke away with a laugh and bent to gather him into her arms. 

“Thank you again,” she said, leaning in to brush a kiss over his cheek.

Nico felt himself go still as stone. He couldn’t remember if she’d ever done that before. 

“G’night.”

“Gute nacht,” he responded, barely holding himself back from waving as his mind was still caught on trying to process the fact that she’d actually kissed him. On the cheek, but still, her lips had been soft and warm, especially against the hard contrast of her nose ring.

He watched her disappear down the hall before he smacked a hand to his forehead. “Gute nacht,” he mocked himself. “You couldn’t think of anything better to say?” 

He was a fool for thinking this was going to work. 

The next thing he had never expected when he invited her to move in came the following morning. 

Lena hadn’t stayed with Nico in his new place before. She couldn’t have. He upgraded to renting the three bedroom apartment in their building when it was finally settled that she would be living with him. That way, he still had a spare room for when family or friends came in town.

The day previous, she’d picked the room closer to his. Had he known — had he thought about it, he would have suggested she take the other one. He could have made up some bullshit excuse about how he didn’t want his snoring to keep her up at night. 

Had he been thinking clearly, he would have noticed that her ensuite bathroom shared a wall with his bedroom. The very wall his headboard sat against. 

As it was now, Lena, always the early riser, was in the shower. Right on the other side of the wall. 

Waking up to the water drumming into the tile, it took him a moment to place the sound. Only when it shifted, quieting and changing rhythm did he realize what was happening - she’d stepped under the water. 

With a sudden jolt, Nico realized that his headboard, some paint, sheetrock, a jumble of studs, and a few dozen white subway tiles were the only things separating him from her naked form. 

The idea of it assaulted his senses until he was half hard and couldn’t think of anything else. 

Cursing, he pulled a pillow over his face and groaned loudly. He couldn’t ask her to move now. He would have to explain why, and he wouldn’t be caught dead telling her he needed her to move because he couldn’t get the image of her naked, water trailing off her hair, dripping onto her breasts and pooling around her feet, out of his mind. 

He groaned into his pillowcase again. 

This went on for a few more minutes before the water changed again, increasing in pressure and beating a staccato rhythm against the tile. A second later, he heard the water shift and change again as well as a gentle thud, as if she’d fallen against the wall. 

Knowing exactly what that meant, he vaulted out of bed, rushing to his own bathroom. He would not jack off to the sound of her in the shower. That was a step too far, but if he let his imagination run, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself.  He’d thought of her many, many times while getting himself off over the years, but doing it while she was in his house, very likely getting herself off, felt like a step too far. 

Cold water shocked him back into his senses, and he didn’t let himself think about it anymore. 

Lena stepped out of the shower, feeling much better. Not only did she feel more rested, she was finally able to release some of the sexual frustration that had settled on her like a heavy blanket since arriving. She would have done it the night before, but showering was always part of her morning routine, and in the rush of moving and getting to the bar to meet Nicos team mates, she hadn’t fully unpacked, and couldn’t find her vibrator. She’d tried with her fingers, but it just didn’t work the same way. When she finally fell asleep, she was still feeling frustrated and needy. 

After dressing and putting some dry shampoo in her hair, she walked into the kitchen only to find Nico scooping freshly ground coffee beans into the coffee maker, wearing nothing more than a towel. His hair was still wet, and she watched a rivulet of water wind its way down his back, all the way to the dimples at the base of his spine. Wanting sparked to life between her thighs again. So much for easing the sexual frustration. 

“Morning,” she made herself say, refusing to be the creepy one watching him shirtless, core throbbing at the thought of him. 

Nico jumped, and his hand snagged the towel around his waist before it fell. He thought he had more time. He wouldn’t have come out here in only a towel if he thought she would be out soon. He just wanted to have coffee made for her. 

“I thought you were still in the shower,” he said by way of explanation. 

“How did you know I was in the shower?” 

“It’s right on the other side of my bedroom wall,” he informed her, trying to keep the guilt out of his voice. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckety fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Oh,” she said, hoping beyond hope the sound of the water had drowned out the accidental, desperate way she’d moaned his name when her climax finally hit. 

She had to find her vibrator. Maybe she’d pick one up in the city, just in case. She couldn’t be getting herself off in the shower anymore. There was no way. Absolutely no way. Knowing he was on the other side of the wall would shrivel her sex drive like a dried out bean pod. There was no way she could get off to thinking about him, knowing he might be able to hear her, and then she would just be even more frustrated. It didn’t matter if she might find her vibrator unpacking later that day, she decided, she was getting one in the city. Better safe than sorry.

Pushing that idea away to think about later, she accepted the mug of coffee he held out to her. 

“Oat milk, right?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation away from her showers proximity to his bed. “I found this pistachio kind I thought you might like,” he said, rifling in the fridge with one hand, the other still clasping his towel. He needed to pull it tighter but couldn’t with her in the room. At least the cool air was calming his flushed cheeks.

And just like that, the sweetness that was Nico Hischier burrowed its way into her heart again, easing some of the lust back into love. It was incredible how being seen made her feel. Not only with eyes but with words and actions to follow them up. 

No wonder every man she’d dated in the last six years paled in comparison. Nico set an impossible standard for other men to meet. 

And that wasn’t even taking into account the fact that he had the body of a god and the most empathetic, earnest brown eyes she’d ever seen. 

They never even stood a chance.

He found the creamer he’d picked up the last time he was at the grocery. Lena loved all things pistachio, and when he’d seen the non-dairy creamer, he’d automatically put it in his basket for her to try once she got here.

When he turned to her, he had to push away thoughts of kissing her that often came up when he saw her smile the way she was now.

Setting the creamer down, he mumbled, “I’ll be right back,” before practically running to his bedroom. He threw on some shorts and a T-shirt. Coming back in, he found her sitting at the table, looking at her phone as she lifted the coffee mug to her lips. 

“What are you up to today?” 

“I’m going into the city. Find the best subway route to the academy, find my classes, that kind of thing.” Her courses didn’t start for another few days, but Lena knew she would feel better having explored first. 

“If you can wait till I’m done with practice, I can come with you,” he offered. 

Even as he kept his expression neutral, she could hear the undertone of unease in his voice. 

“Nico, I’m going to be going out there by myself every day.”

“But you don’t have to do it alone the first time.”

It wasn’t like he knew the way any better. Lena knew for a fact that he didn’t take to wandering around the city for fun, and if he did, he drove in or took an Uber. Plus, she wouldn’t be able to get her vibrator if he came with her. She didn’t like thinking about the pity she’d find in his face at her inability to find a man to fulfill those needs for her.

“It’s not the first time. I’ve lived in the city before.” 

“For three months when you were twenty,” he reminded. 

“Exactly. It’s not my first rodeo.” 

He never understood that expression. He’d seen a rodeo, and it didn’t seem like the kind of thing someone could grasp after doing it once. It was just another American idiom that always went over his head.

“Nico, I’ll be fine,” she said when he didn’t respond. “I have you on speed dial if I get stuck somewhere, okay?” 

Biting his lip, he tamped down the overprotectiveness rearing up inside him. Lena was smart. She didn’t get herself into trouble. But she was also so pretty, and some men were dogs. 

The look on her face, defiant and determined told him exactly how this was going to end. 

“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “But you’ll call me if you get lost?”

“Yes. I’ll call you if anything comes up.” 

Nico threw himself into practice. Hockey always managed to clear his mind when he was stressed. Even the sound of it - skates scraping the ice, pucks thwacking into sticks and the simpleness of communication - made everything else slip into focus. He didn’t have to worry about being an idiot or saying the wrong thing. He demanded the puck when he needed it and tried to get it into the net. 

Practice was a reprieve from the stress of life. Of all life, all the time. But especially then with Lena in his house. He could skate her out of his mind and focus on simpler things. 

Jonas came up to his stall as he was getting out of his gear. 

“Can I still come get my box?” 

It took a moment for Nico to remember. He’d had left his gaming console at his house a few days ago. “Yeah.” 

When they walked into the house, he found Cookie, right at home, stretched out over the back of the sofa in a sunbeam. 

“Since when do you have a cat? I didn’t think you liked cats.” Jonas asked. 

“He’s Lenas,” Nico corrected. Jonas raised an eyebrow, which Nico chose to ignore. “And I don’t dislike cats. Cookie is sweet.”

“Cookie?” he repeated. “She named her cat Cookie?” 

“Apparently she had a stuffed animal that looked like him named Cookie when she was little,” he explained with a shrug, trailing a hand over the cats silky fur. 

Cookie trilled at him and arched his back for more pets.

The door opened behind them, and Lena herself walked into the apartment, flushed from her walk from the station in the cool autumn air.

Nico tore his eyes away from her before Jonas could give him another raised eyebrow at the look he knew was all over his face.

“Hey, Lena,” Jonas greeted. 

“Hey Jonas,” she said with a big smile, giving him a hug. “It’s good to see you.” 

They’d met in Switzerland a few months before when Lena had come after a trip to Italy with some friends. Her friends had gone home, and she’d caught a train to Bern to spend a few days with him before she had to get back to Canada. It was then that he’d learned about her acceptance into the academy and suggested she should stay with him. 

After she went out and about with Nina, and he finished with training, they had all gone out for dinner and drinks at his favorite place, Tramdepot. Jonas’s girlfriend, Nola, was out of town, and had Nico not known she existed and that Jonas was head over heels for her, he would have been sorely tempted to end the night early so he and Lena would have to stop talking. 

“You can’t be jealous if you’re never going to ask her out,” Nina had admonished him on the way home.

Knowing Lena didn’t speak German allowed him to be open and honest with his sister, even as Lena walked in front of them. 

“She doesn’t date hockey players.” 

Nina gave him a wry look, “she told you that?” 

“No, she told her friend, Jessica. I overheard them.” 

“What exactly did she say?” Nina asked.

“She said, ‘I don’t date hockey players.’ And then Jessica asked, ‘what about Nico?’” 

“And she said?” Nina prompted.

“She said it doesn’t matter.” 

“I think you should still talk to her.” 

“She said it doesn’t matter, Nina,” he said, and there had been an embarrassing amount of whining pain in his voice. 

Nina bit her lip, glancing at Lena, who was walking next to Jonas, asking something about the architecture. 

“I can’t —” his voice had almost broken, “I can’t.” He couldn’t even get the words out. 

He was in love with Lena. He knew that. And it was wonderful and painful and awful all at the same time. But the thought of asking her and having her say no - the thought of asking her and it changing their friendship forever? That was worse than the bitter, lovely pain of being in unrequited love. The idea of losing her was worse than knowing he would never have her in that way. 

“Well, I should get going,” Jonas said, gesturing with the playstation and bringing Nico back to the present.

“I’m sure I’ll see you around,” Lena said, offering him another hug.

After Jonas left, Nico followed her to her room, leaning in the doorway. There were still boxes around, and he noticed a pile of clothes on the floor that she'd obviously pulled out of a box in search of her outfit for the day. He willed his eyes to skip over something lacy and green.

“How was it?” 

“Fine,” she said, setting her tote bag carefully on the bed, making sure it wouldn’t tip over. On top of the vibrator, she’d bought lingerie. Not that she had anyone to wear it for. But the pink set had been on display and matched her hair. She’d asked to try it on on a whim and found she couldn’t leave it behind. Even if it was just for herself, the lace and mesh balconette bra and matching panties made her feel pretty and sexy. So what if no one else ever saw them? She’d know they were there, and that was enough. 

All the same, she didn’t want Nico to see it. The thought of him knowing she’d bought lingerie when he knew she didn’t have anyone to show it off for made heat race to the surface of her skin.  

When it wouldn’t stay upright, she tipped the bag gently, resting it against her pillows so nothing would spill out. 

“Just fine?” he asked, worry edging into his tone. 

“It was good,” she said, turning around. “I found everything fine. I only went three stops in the wrong direction once. My advisor seems nice, and all my classes are right in the academy, so I won’t get lost.” Walking from the room, she changed the subject, “how was practice?” 

“Good,” he dragged a hand down his face, “I think we’re finally starting to gel as a team.” 

“That’s great, Nico.” 

“I hope it comes together before we head to Carolina.” 

“I’m sure it will. If you’re already seeing that now, it’ll only get better in a week, right?” 

He smiled, glad to have her sweet reassurance around. Though she never played hockey - “You would not want to see me on skates. I’m the most uncoordinated disaster of a baby gazelle you’ve ever seen.” - she’d grown up with siblings and friends who play and had a thorough understanding of the game and what it took to win. 

That first month living with her was an awkward dance. When his first road trip came around, it was a relief to get away. He could finally breathe easy, not worried about turning any corner to find her being unassumingly lovely in some new area of the apartment.

But by the second night away, he found himself missing her and missing their evening routine of sipping tea while watching TV. She never complained when he pulled up one of his brothers games or something else Swiss as long as the subtitles were on, and he’d gotten way too sucked in to the ridiculous reality TV show she loved about couples living in a villa together, searching for love. 

That second night, when missing her had settled into his chest in a way he hadn’t yet experienced, he almost turned it on for he and Jonas to watch before bed, just to get some comfort of home back. Instead, he’d tossed the remote to Jonas. Lena said she’d wait to watch it with him when he came back, and he didn’t want to let her down. Plus, he wasn’t totally sure he wanted Jonas knowing he enjoyed such trashy shit.

He missed the steadiness of her presence. He’d gotten so used to living alone, he’d forgotten how nice it was to have someone else in the house. She was always there if he needed a little comfort, offering a hug or a listening ear, or a back rub. 

After he got home, they fell into a comfortable routine, weaving in and out of each other's lives. They would have coffee at the start of each day before she left for classes, and he left for practice. 

In the afternoon, she worked on her art in the living room, and he liked to watch her paint or draw, silhouetted against the large window, if she was still there after he’d taken his nap. 

She cooked dinner most nights. She wasn’t a chef by any means, but she enjoyed cooking, and he was always appreciative, even when something was burned. Plus, she owed him. The money he saved her by not having to pay for housing for a year wasn’t insubstantial. Cooking was a small way she could pay him back on the few nights he was home each week. She’d even made his favorite meal the day after a hard loss. 

He gave her the cold he caught on their second trip. Something, he was sure, he got from Haula’s kids, and they were miserable together for a few days. He woke to her showering in the middle of the night more than once as she tried to clear her sinuses. 

When Halloween came around, he asked if she wanted to go to the team party with him. It was the first time since he’d come to New Jersey he didn’t have to come up with a costume by himself or do something with one of his teammates. He’d had girlfriends before, most of them from Switzerland, but no one who was able to make it to the party.

They spent one of his off weekends figuring out what to wear. Lena was worried about giving people the wrong idea and shot down most of the suggestions that came up on her web search as they were all suited for couples. 

Every time someone asked how long they had been dating, it was like being jabbed with a hot poker; pointing out everything she wanted but didn’t have. 

In the end, they decided to go as people who had been stranded in the desert. She panted their cheeks to look sunburned and put dyed baby powder in their hair and eyebrows to mimic sand. They wore ripped, tan clothing and carried empty canteens. 

When she’d come out of her room, he swore his heart nearly stopped upon seeing the open, artfully dirty button up shirt she wore tied over a tan colored bra. He’d seen her in a swimsuit before, so in theory, he’d seen this much of her skin, but this seemed more intimate than a bathing suit. 

It sparked a new wave of longing in him. 

More than once, Jack gave him an exasperated look when he caught Nico staring at her as she talked with the WAGs. He was obsessing over all the little details of her costume. The way one of her shredded khaki pant legs was higher than the other, showing the tattoo of a paintbrush crossed with a pencil on the inside of her right ankle, the stripe of her smooth low back visible between her shirt and pants, and of course, the flash of her cleavage anytime she turned toward him. 

“You’re gonna have to make it happen, man,” he said, passing by to get another drink. 

It took almost six weeks, but he got used to her fresh faced beauty being around all the time. It didn’t dull necessarily, but like living in a beautiful place, eventually, the beauty fades into the background until the lighting changes and everything is suddenly new and breathtaking again. While she was around all the time, it grew easier for him to push aside. 

On a Saturday in early November, he came home from practice to hear her humming somewhere in the apartment. She wasn’t in the living room - in fact, her drop cloth and easel hadn’t even been set up. 

Opening his mouth to call for her, his greeting died in his throat when he walked into the kitchen. She was in a tight, pink t-shirt, a matching pair of little boy short underwear and nothing else. His eyes were immediately drawn to the round swells of her ass peeking out from under the material. 

He couldn’t look away. Even knowing he should say something, so she didn’t think he was just creepily watching her didn’t help him. 

Forget looking like a creep. He was never forgetting this as long as he lived. 

Lena turned around and jumped. Nico was standing in the kitchen doorway, mouth slightly agape. He’d been quiet as a mouse, and the shock of his sudden appearance sent her sandwich diving off the plate. It opened on its descent and splatted onto the dark tile, meat and condiment side down - because, of course, it did. 

She swore, and it snapped Nico out of his reverie. He dropped to his knees to help clean it up.

As she knelt next to him with a wet rag to wipe the butter off the tile, her bare knee slid into his field of vision.

“I’m sorry I didn't say anything,” he said emphatically, feeling himself blush as he kept his eyes trained on the floor so they wouldn’t travel up the creamy expanse of her thigh.

Shaking her head, Lena stood, hoping he didn’t notice she’d practically turned the same shade as her shirt, “I’m sorry about this,” she said, gesturing to her legs. Of course he had to come home when she wasn’t wearing any pants. The shirt and panties had arrived that morning, and she had been trying them on when she decided to make a sandwich.

Nico looked up and felt his jaw go slack. Somehow, he managed to keep it from falling open. He could clearly see the slope of her breasts and a stripe of her stomach where the shirt didn't quite reach her underwear. He inexplicably wanted to bite the curve of her inner thigh.

He could only blink several times before he managed to look away. Made new in the harsh light of the kitchen, wanting her took over his thoughts, turning him into a bumbling idiot once again.

God, what wouldn’t he give to worship her any way she would let him?

“I didn’t think you were coming home until later. I would have put on pants.”

The fact that she apparently often didn’t wear pants when he wasn’t home burrowed into his brain to torture him later. 

He managed to make some kind of noncommittal noise and stood up. 

Lena scurried to her room, grateful that, at least, she had this new set on, and not a pair of ratty old undies.

She wished she could forget the shocked look on his face when he looked up at her from his knees. She’d envisioned him on his knees before her so many times, but none of those fantasies involved him staring open mouthed at her thighs. 

A week later, as they were watching Love Island, Lena asked a question she never thought she would have to.

“When’s your next night off at home?” 

Nico pulled up his calendar app, and flipped through the days, “Friday.” 

“Oh.”

“What’s up?” he asked, setting his phone on the side table. 

“I…” Her cheeks flushed, and she bit her lip. 

“What?” he asked, feeling nervous. She was going to tell him she started dating someone, wasn’t she? That she’d met someone while he’d been out of town. The prospect of it roiled in his stomach.

“I thought I had more time,” she said. 

His fantasized dilemma fractured a little. “More time for what?” 

She took in a calming, deep breath, looking up at the ceiling so she didn’t have to look at his face when she said it. “I need to — I need to do a nude study for my figure class.” 

“So? You’ve done nude studies before,” he reminded, thinking about the sketches he’d seen in her portfolio. Part of this intensive training was figure drawing, which he knew she didn’t enjoy, but everything he’d seen looked near perfect to him. Smooth, curved lines, and strong, handsome faces. He didn’t understand what she was so worried about. 

 Professor Brown’s consistent feedback was that her drawings looked too one dimensional, that she wasn’t capturing the living essence of her subjects. She assured the class that, though it would be awkward, their art would be better when they could no longer pretend the person in front of them was a sculpture. The surefire way to do that? Take away the emotional distance between the artist and their model.

“Yeah, but those were with people I’d never met. My professor wants us to do a study with someone we know…preferably of the opposite gender. She said it would make the art more intimate.” Daring to meet his eyes, Lena felt a blush scorch her skin.

Understanding sparked in his face, and she watched his eyes widen. 

“You want me to be your nude model?” 

She licked her lips, “I thought about asking Jesper to do it, but that didn’t seem right.” 

“Why Jes?” he asked, barely keeping the flair of emotion out of his voice. That was the last thing he wanted to hear. Not only was his love for her unrequited, she would be more comfortable sketching one of his teammates. One of his engaged teammates.

“I don’t know. I feel like he wouldn’t be weird about it since the swedes are always so,” she gestured to her own body, “open. But it felt too… intimate when he has Nicole and we’re…us,” she finished lamely, finally daring to look into his face. 

His heart leapt into his throat. 

We’re us? What did that mean? What was us? They were friends? She wanted something more than friendship? Hope reignited in his chest for the millionth time.

He cleared his throat, hoping she couldn’t hear his heart hammering. “What would -” he had to pause to clear his throat again. “What would it involve?” 

“You’d just need to sit or stand for a few hours while I do some sketches.”

“Naked?” he asked, his voice squeaking over the word despite his attempts to stay cool, “or could I wear my boxers?” 

“I need to turn in six sketches, but at least half of them need to be nude, so you would only need to be naked for part of it.” 

He didn’t respond right away, trying to sort out and understand his own racing thoughts.

She nibbled at her lip, “I know it’s kind of a lot to ask.” 

There were so many reasons he wanted to say no, but despite all that, Nico still found himself nodding. He could never say no to her, even if it meant he had to pose naked for her to sketch. 

She felt her cheeks flush again. The thought of seeing him this way had nixed the idea of Jesper from her mind. She didn’t want to sketch his thighs, even if it would be less awkward than sketching Nico. She might never get the chance to see him naked in a romantic setting, so, selfishly, she was seizing the opportunity while she had it. 

“Has to be Friday?” he asked. 

“Well, sometime in the next week,” she said. “If you’re not comfortable with it, I can ask Jesper.”

“It’s not that,” he said. Too quick, too desperate. If she asked Jesper, it would get around the locker room like wildfire that she’d asked him instead of Nico and on top of not wanting to let her down, he couldn’t take the chirping that would come from that. “It’s just fast.” 

“Do you have another day off?” 

He swiped through his calendar again and shook his head. “We leave for six days after the game on Saturday.” 

Her lips pursed together. The flush that was glowing on her cheeks made him smile. At least she was just as nervous as he was. 

“Do you need me to do anything before? Shave or…anything?” he asked, gesturing to his chest.

She hadn't even thought about it. From what she remembered, Nico didn't have a huge amount of chest hair anyway.

She'd known going into this conversation that it would end with at least a fifty percent chance he’d say yes, but when he asked about shaving, it struck her suddenly and completely that she really was about to see him naked.

“Nothing you wouldn’t normally do,” she squeaked.

If she was going to be this flustered the whole time, maybe this wouldn’t be half bad. 

[accio-victuuri]

June CPNs round-up ❤️💛💚

• Children’s Day candies

• similar we11done pants - i personally love seeing them in same style clothing, especially if it’s as unique as this.

• LOZ preview candies: having the same braincell playing w/ an abacus & the ok gesture reappears

• i can’t link it here because the posts are locked over at weibo, but someone on douyin commented they saw wyb on set of LOZ. but then later on said that they were mistaken. hmmm. you can take it as it is, that this person said something he shouldn’t have. or that he retracted his statement to prevent any problems or rumors. as with these things anyway, we will know as time goes by and as we see clues here and there. i’m just archiving this incident here for future use.

• Beijing same city 6/5 to 6/7 before wyb flew abroad for the french open.

• 6/6 XZ chongqing photos candies 📷

• WYB and the innocence of the little prince

• Look at them and their hats and long hair!

• french embassy paying attention to THEM!

• GG spotted wearing green tod’s shoes! and it looks like they purposely matched their airport fits 😭😭

• XZ’s dragonboat festival photos

• 6/11 xz and wyb together on the hot search

• The similarity in their ELLE magazine previews. you can say that it’s the editing from the same magazine publication that’s why this happened but it’s so uncanny!!!!

• weibo opening screen of their movies winning at weibo movie night!!!!

• August issue of MOVIE STAR magazine featuring them for CQL 5th anniversary!!!!

• venchi chocolate

• new apple watch after spending time in beijing

• rolex daytona paul newman 6263

• XZS chongqing vlog: stone island wardrobe, suitcase, ipad and same city (shanghai) - what i didn’t include here about the suitcase is that, i like the cpn of wyb bringing home stuff that xz’s parents ( in chongqing where he came from before shanghai ) has asked him to give yibo. it may be food items and other things and it makes sense that yibo is the one to take it back.

• 6/16 xiao zhan weibo posts a 🐽 and them posting so close to each other & some more clowning about a sus necklace, 18:23 and venus - i swear! this made me lose my mind! xz is so loud 🗣️🗣️🗣️on yibo’s end we got him imitating the family picture

and i forgot to add the betty boop that looked like she’s wearing luffy’s outfit!

• 6/17 zsww fake rumor

• a cpn compilation about the pig 🐽

• Loewe candies + them being in europe at the same time for 622

• going back to Beijing the same day 6/23!

• rufeng posts new audio snippet where wyb implies he is not jealous of wwx and wq

• them being number 1 for the respective weeks their new endorsements were announced. king behavior!

• tod’s x loewe business photo shoot looks! it’s matching!

• another example of ybo and xzs similarity ( yibo moment )

• the bonus content this month is a tarot card reading done for the boys. if you’ve been following me for some time you’ll know that this is my guilty pleasure when it comes to them. i understand it’s out there so feel free to skip. here is the original video. i will just share here the interesting part that made cpfs 👀.

reading was made 6/19 and people were asking about if whether they will go to europe together. the person said that it’s within the month and not a two person trip cause they will have people with them. and that they have been preparing for this. a section also explained how their state is, that it’s treating one like a husband and they will stay sweet forever. also how the two will remain “hot” or popular. and— that they will sign a contract to put themselves in equal footing which is not limited to a marriage certificate etc.

a part of it too which was asked is how wyb’s relationship is with his dad + i guess how he is taking the romance between him and xz plus other things ( probably ) idk how cpfs thought of asking this. i’m not implying anything okay? the question was “Has the father’s attitude softened?” OP said that wyb has not returned home during this period and him & his father is always separated by by geographical distance. there is no time to sit down and talk with his father so the final result is still a deadlock.But they have to talk and wyb needs to take the initiative to speak to his father.

• adding this here cause it’s blowing my mind how much they look alike recently. like this airport video of xz. i mean. he even move kinda like wyb. LIKE…WHAT…..

-END. See you next month!

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