#it’s fun to see how a character might respond after

[whump-galaxy]

The whumpee fighting to convince their team they’re not weak. Excessive training, a facade of irritability, even getting into unnecessary fights to “prove” how “strong” they are.

But none of that lasts during real battle. They spent so much time creating a veneer of power that crumbles at the slightest test.

[pepperpixel]

Some art of Tori from @misfitmccoward ‘s Naruto fic Plasticity! Because!! It’s such a good fucking fic…! I had to do fanart for it!! honestly after I first read it I was so fucking hype about it that I was almost like “omg.. I have to do an animatic or something for this. it’s SO GOOD” but. My ability to do animatics has kinda flushed down the drain recently ghghg- But! Still!! I had to at least draw some fanart for it…!

[todayisafridaynight]

I think the strongest direct Ryuji parallel is just that RGGJo is also a There Can Only Be One Dragon-type bitch. But I honestly don't think it chafes him for the same reasons as Ryuji lol, because there's also the element of Ichi "copying" his design and "doing it better" (in a meta sense, on account of Horitomo handling his tattoo but not RGGJo's.) It's a fun callback and good set-dressing for what amounts to two sons squabbling for their dad's approval.

It's kind of fun to think about for real though, because in Ryuji's RGGO story, the Arakawa Family are tasked with assassinating Ryuji. And Jo's all ready to go but Arakawa makes the crucial decision to assign Ichi to the job instead. While Ichi does Empty An Entire Clip into Ryuji and it's badass as hell, he's also nice enough to get him immediate medical attention, which Jo wouldn't have been. Wild that Ryuji would be dead long before K2 if Jo and Ryuji really had met at that time.

Outside of that... perhaps a hot take... but I think Ryuji would be RGGJo's "type." Because the instant he meets Kagami (Tendo's counterpart, whom I personally prefer to Tendo himself lol) they hit it off. By which I mean RGGJo was blatantly flirting with him and batting his eyelashes going "Oh, you wouldn't want to fight little old me, I'm delicate." And, you know, Kagami's supposed to be The Ryujicore Guy, sort of in the vein of Watase in Y5 but even more so.

And I think the reason they get along so well--they, as "old-fashioned" yakuza, value strength above all else within other yakuza--is also something that transferred to Y7Jo, if his monologue in The Eye Scene is anything to go by. So that's perhaps another parallel with Ryuji that originated with RGGO, although Majima and some others are the same way, so perhaps not.

That's definitely the strongest connection between RGGJo and Ryuji, it's an aspect I was immediately able to pick up on when I was first reading through RGGO (and again, it is really funny from the lens of Ichi and Jo being bickering brothers just pointing at each other and going 'I did it first, you copied me!' and whining to dad about it lmao)

Ryuji's penchant for escaping death's pretty funny (if we want to count him surviving in Dead Souls as canonical, this is twice now): bless Ichiban for reserving his right to kill so we could at least meet Ryuji first (though now I can't help but to imagine Ryuji as some heinous beast they've been tasked to hunt down. I guess Ryuji being so large and having a fur coat doesn't help get rid of that imagination: Arakawa Family hunting trip anyone?).

SPEAKING of unmissable Ryuji traits in RGGO, Kagami was ESPECIALLY an absolute slap in the face for RGG to be like 'hey you guys remember Ryuji'. I almost laughed seeing him, but I didn't hate him of course, I was just surprised they really introduced a character so objectively inspired by Ryuji. I think you're onto something though: they could definitely click if given the chance (and now I do wonder what would have happened if RGGJo was sent to kill Ryuji instead…).

[requiemforthepoets]

overcooked 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: play overcooked they said, it’ll be fun they said.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i just can’t help write about the idea lando playing overcooked, so i did. hope you’ll enjoy this! :)

REMINDER: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 1k

WARNINGS: typos and ferrari strategy meme

Lando’s twitch stream was in full swing, and the chat was buzzing as you settled beside him, controller in hand.

“Alright, babe, let’s see how well we work together,” Lando teased, flashing you that signature grin. You rolled your eyes, already sensing that this game of overcooked might be more than what you bargained for.

You both dove into the first level, the kitchen chaos unfolding on the screen as you both tried to chop, cook, and serve orders with as much coordination as two people shared a life, but perhaps not a kitchen.

“Lando, the onions! You missed the onions!” You shouted, pointing at the screen as the virtual kitchen teetered on the brink of disaster.

“Relax, I’ve got this!” Lando replied, but his character was already running into walls, the pot burning on the stove. You could feel the frustration bubbling up, your competitive nature kicking into high gear.

You took charge of the kitchen, barking orders like a seasoned chef, while Lando scrambled to keep up. “Chop the onions faster, Lando!” You yelled as the kitchen timer ticked down. Lando, flustered, accidentally tossed the onions into the trash instead of the pot.

“Oops,” he said, trying to suppress a laugh.

“Oops?” You shot back, incredulous. “Lando, we’re running a restaurant, not a garbage disposal service!” The twitch chat exploded with laughter, and Lando couldn’t help but chuckle as well.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of trying to manage orders, avoid fires, and stop Lando from accidentally throwing perfectly good ingredients into the trash, you both managed to complete the level. The result? Two stars. You stared at the screen, eyes narrowing.

“Unacceptable.” You muttered, “this is unacceptable!” You declared, your voice suddenly dropping into a perfect Gordon Ramsay impression.

“Oh look, baby we got two stars! That’s not bad!” Lando said excitedly as he pointed on the screen.

“Not that bad? Are you kidding me, Lando?” You snapped, fully embodying the spirit of Gordon Ramsay. “We were all over the place! No communcation, no strategy. Honestly, what was that—your best effort? Do you want to serve that to people? Do you?!”

Your sudden intensity caught Lando off guard, but before he could say anything, you were now pacing back and forth in front of him. But before he could say anything, you were off on a tirade, launching into an elaborate explanation of your strategy. You gestured wildly, pointing at the screen, completely absorbed in your monologue.

“Okay, listen. First, you need to stay on your side of the kitchen. I’ll handle the chopping and the prep work—because clearly, you’re incapable of doing both without setting something on fire. We need to streamline the workflow. I’ll chop, you’ll cook, and we both plate. But!” You pointed at him, your expression deadly serious, “no more improvisation. We need to stick to the plan. No more running around like a headless chicken.“

Lando blinked and nodded at you, clearly taken aback by your sudden switch into full-on chef mode. He opened his mouth to respond but then quickly shut it, his eyes darting between you and the camera that was still live streaming every second of your tirade. The chat was exploding with messages, his fans throughly entertained by your unintentional transformation into a culinary dictator, and Lando knows better than to interrupt you when you’re in the zone.

“And another thing,” you continued, pointing to the screen like you were delivering the world’s most important TED talk. “Timing and synchronization is crucial. We need to strategize and work like a well-oiled machine, not a circus act, okay? I handle the chopping, you’ll cook, and we both plate. We’ll divide and conquer!”

The chat exploded, the fans losing it as she continued, hands flying everywhere in wild gestures. Meanwhile, Lando was trying his hardest not to crack up, the corners of his mouth twitching as he watched her go on.

“Babe…baby,” Lando finally managed to interject, struggling to keep a straight face. “You realize we’re live, right?”

You froze, eyes widening as you remembered the twitch stream, the hundred of his fans who had just witnessed your unhinged rant. Slowly, you turned to the camera, a sheepish grin spreading across your face.

“Oh…hi, chat,” you said, your voice suddenly much softer, the intensity draining from your expression. “I’m sorry for that. That was not very demure, very cutesy, and very mindful of me.”

Lando burst out laughing, nearly doubling over as he clutched his stomach. “I think you’ve been watching too much Hell’s Kitchen, love. Gordon Ramsay has become your new personality,” he teased, pulling you back down and sat you on his lap. You groaned, burying your face on his neck, as he put an arm around your waist, but even you couldn’t help laugh at yourself.

“Come on, let’s get you that three stars.” Lando said as he chuckled again. You settled down beside him and gave you a kiss on your temple.

The rest of the stream was just as chaotic as when you both started playing the game, filled with rage, frustration, and hilarious uncoordination. Orders were still missed, pots were still burning, and Lando’s character even managed to fall off the kitchen at one point, but you were both too busy laughing to care. By the end of the game, you hadn’t earned a single three-star rating that you had intentionally wanted, but the stream had been a massive hit, and the chat was flooded with memes of your intense strategy session.

As Lando ended the stream, he leaned over and kissed you on the lips, still chuckling. “We may not be the best team in overcooked, but I think we’re the most entertaining,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile played on your lips as you rested your head ok his shoulder. “Yeah, well, next time we’re getting three stars. I don’t care how long it takes.”

“Deal.” lando replied, wrapping an arm around you as you both relaxed, your own competitive sprit finally at peace—for now. “And can I say, it really turned me on when you started yapping.” His eyes wiggling, suggesting something that you knew fully well as you slapped him playfully on the chest.

“Oh shut up you.” You both laughed.

The kitchen might have been a disaster, but at least your relationship had survived the heat—well, barely.

twitter posts

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: i caved and did an actual Ewan fic! Given that the lad is more of a public persona nowadays, I reckon it's fine (?) This is pure self-indulgence for all my Ewan loves. May have a continuation but idk for now, enjoy!!

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader and Ewan are paired for press interviews. Despite barely having any scenes together and only knowing each other in passing on set, the chemistry they share cannot be denied...

Your first round of press takes place in a primped up hotel suite in Paris, thanks to the team at HBO.

You are an up and coming actress, much like some of your costars in the show, but the pressure is heavier on you because you were entering in season two, whereas everyone was already well-acquainted with one another.

Your few scenes were mostly with Jace and Baela, so you grew close to Harry and Bethany.

However, the media team decided to pair you up with Ewan for the day. A little fun initiative was set by the team that a character from the Blacks would be do press with a counterpart from the Greens - hence, yourself and Ewan.

You're nervous as you walk down the hallway, unable to fully pay attention to the instructions your lovely assistant gives you.

She tells you about the different interviewers for the day, bloggers and magazine writers from all over the world. She reminds you that each one will only be for a maximum of 5 minutes, so it shouldn't be too complicated. She smiles and eagerly says, "Take a deep breath, you got this!", as you reach the suite doors.

But in your mind, all you can recall is your first interaction with Ewan, almost a year ago right after the table read. You had nervously blurted out to him that Aemond is your favourite character, after he just asked, "How are you?". He laughed, said thank you, before he was pulled away in conversation by Tom.

You pray to the fictional Westerosi gods that things will fare better today. That you won't get all tongue-tied when those steel blue eyes land on you.

Upon entering the room, the team is quick to fuss over you. Sometimes you forget that you're actually an actress now. A celebrity, some might say. It all feels surreal and you have a inkling it won't ever stop being this way.

Ewan is already seated in front of the camera, and he stands to give you a hug as you finally walk over.

"Hey there, how are you?" he smiles widely, smelling like cigarettes and something muskier as he wraps his arms around you.

Unroll your tongue. Rework your brain. Calm down.

"Hey, Ewan!" you respond. "I'm doing great, happy to see you again."

"Well, I only wish we could have had more time together on set." Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to take your seat before he does the same. "But next season perhaps? Who knows?"

"Oh, sure." You settle in, pleased by the fact that your chairs are only about a foot apart. "We can both look forward to my character giving Aemond the arse kicking he deserves."

He laughs, eyes glinting with mischief. "Come on now, I was thinking our characters are actually quite compatible, no?"

"Well, I sure wouldn't want to step on Alys' shoes. She'd probably curse my character all the way to Yi Ti."

"Hmm," he hums, biting his lip. You can't help but hear Aemond when he does that. "I say you can always count on Aemond and Vhagar to come to the rescue of a beautiful maiden such as yourself."

Well, you'll be damned. Ewan, while still an introvert of his own sort, is as charming as can be. If he's turning it on to get himself hyped for the press, it's working.

It's definitely working on you, to say the least.

The media manager gives the signal for the first interview to begin, and a reporter walks in, all ready with prepared script in hand.

"Here we go," you mutter, facing forward.

"Good luck," Ewan replies.

You both shake the reporter's hand, and he introduces himself as Jared.

"So guys," Jared begins. "Why don't we start with you telling me a little bit about what we can expect from your characters this season?"

The question is easy, and it doesn't take long for you and Ewan to think it through. Jared asks a few more basic questions, before drawing the attention more to you.

"When you watched season one, did you have a favourite character?" he asks you.

You smile, "Oh, I mean, I have to say - and Ewan already knows this, by the way - that Aemond was my favourite character."

"Was?" Ewan says, feigning shock. "Unacceptable."

"Was... Is... " you shrug, rolling your eyes playfully, earning a laugh from Jared. "I think I might be more a Daemon girl now."

"Oh!" Jared exclaims happily. "Does Matt know about this?"

"I'll be sure to tell him - "

Ewan interjects, shaking his head at you, "There's no need to tell him, because I'll convert her back to Team Aemond in no time, trust me."

"Daemon is awesome, though," you say to him, smiling.

"Sure." Ewan makes a face like that fact doesn't matter. Wasn't he the one who said that Daemon would be the character he would most like to play if not Aemond?

"And Caraxes is my favourite dragon." You share a look with Jared, hoping he would agree.

"Yes!" Jared says. "Caraxes is the best dragon in the show, in my opinion."

"Ah, you're both wrong," Ewan says. "My Vhagar is the oldest and baddest dragon in all of the land."

"My Vhagar, he says," you joke. "Seems like someone still hasn't shed Aemond for this press tour."

"And I never will, darling." His gaze is intense when he turns to you, and you clear your throat to fight the warmth rushing to your cheeks.

"Alright, they're giving me the wrap-up," Jared thankfully breaks the tension. "It was a pleasure talking to you guys, congratulations on the new season!"

One interview down, and your nerves have already considerably subsided. Ewan tapping your arm to start up a conversation once more surely helps in distracting you.

In the best damn way possible.

"How do you think we did? That wasn't too bad, was it?"

"I think we did quite well," you casually offer a high five, but your heart skips a beat when Ewan interlaces your suspended hands for just a moment.

"I'm glad they paired me with you," Ewan says, after releasing your hand. You hold on to the armrests to keep your fingers from twitching.

"I am, too," you admit. "I am a fan of you, after all, but I think you already know that."

He blushes, "Well, that's not a bad thing. I think you're a fantastic actress. I must have seen your first film a good ten times."

"You mean my first and only film," you add humbly. "But thank you."

"Only film for now," he affirms. "No doubt this is only the beginning for you, darling. With your talent and your charisma, I'm sure you have potential scripts piled up already."

"I could say the same for you! Have you seen what your fans say about you online? You're the internet's new boyfriend, Ewan Mitchell."

The media manager announces the next interview, but Ewan follows up with a response for you under his breath, "I have seen some things. But when I have a girlfriend, I'll make sure she won't have to share me at all."

Oh, so apparently he is single. But wait - why is he telling you this?

You don't get to mull over that thought. For the time being, the next interview starts and you make sure you do a good job at what you're paid to do - promoting the series.

Not daydreaming about getting with a costar, for heaven's sake. Stay professional.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You feel lightheaded after finishing the seventh - or had it been the eighth? - interview.

Your assistant delivers a coffee to you during the twenty-minute break. Ewan had stepped out to the balcony to have a smoke, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

He certainly is everything you expected him to be, and so much more. Insightful, cheeky, dedicated. An artist, through and through. He was in the business for all the right reasons, passion and respect for the craft.

If he had any flaws, you weren't privy to them yet. If there are any reasons for you not to be attracted to him, you didn't know what those were yet.

And with every flirtatious remark and pointed smile, you can't deny the hope blooming in you.

"Hey," he reappears, pulling you out of your musings. "I hope you don't mind that I smell of smoke."

No, you didn't, not when it's him.

"Don't worry about it," you reassure him. You tilt your head forward to take a sip of your coffee, but a lock of your hair falls in front of your face. Annoyed, you think to reach for it, but Ewan beats you to it, tucking it back in place.

"There you go, darling," he croons, gesturing for you to proceed in drinking.

"Th-thanks." His eyes don't leave yours as you take a slow sip.

"So," you say, desperate to break the silence, "which interview did you enjoy the most so far?"

"How can I possibly choose? I mean, I really liked the one with ComicSociety, the guy that said our characters have a lot of chemistry and should get together next season. He's right, I already told you!"

"Ohhh, sure, that will go down really well with the Blacks and Greens."

He smirks, "I don't see why not?"

"For one, Aemond is ensnared by Alys, and my character will never give up fighting for Rhaenyra. I just don't see it happening, Ewan."

"Right," he mutters thoughtfully, "there is still Alys in the picture."

"Still in the picture? With the amount of steamy scenes you two have lined up for season three, I'd say she will be Aemond's entire picture in and of herself."

"Hmm," he glances at you once, then looks down. Dare you think it, does he look disappointed?

"But hey," you add lightly, "maybe we can talk to Ryan and he can flip the entire script just for our characters."

"Yeah," his cheeky smile resurfaces, "maybe you can take Alys' place."

Take the place of Alys? Of Alys. Is he insinuating...

"Next round of interviews, guys!" The media manager announces to the room.

"Here we go again, darling," Ewan squeezes your hand once, before putting on his professional face once more.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

By the end of it all, not even caffeine can perk you up. You were exhausted, you and Ewan having finished four full hours of press.

Your assistant comes to your aid, ready to direct you back to your own hotel room.

"This has been such a pleasure, Ewan, really." You stand, this time initiating the hug.

He squeezes you gently, humming in your ear. When you pull apart, he says, "I honestly wouldn't mind trudging through hours and hours of press with you."

That's sweet of him. You're too tired to mask the warmth that rises to your cheeks. "And I feel the same. Today couldn't have gone any better."

"Truly, and listen, maybe we could - "

"Ewan!" The manager approaches. "I'm so sorry to rush with this, but we need to film just a quick soundbite with you for Aemond. Just two to three questions for the Max Tiktok account?"

"Oh, okay - " Ewan is reluctant to turn away from you.

"Perfect! If you could just stand there by the windows please..." The manager already has him by the arm, directing where he has to go.

"We have to go," your assistant says. "Still have to prep for tomorrow."

"I'll see you soon, Ewan!" you call out to him. "Thanks again."

He gives a half-hearted wave, dejected as he watches you walk out of the room.

"That wasn't too bad," you share with your assistant as you enter the elevators. "Not bad at all, actually."

"Oh, you did so well," she compliments. "It definitely helps with the press that you and Mr. Mitchell have such insane natural chemistry."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

In the calm of your hotel room, you get ready for bed.

Just when you're about to finish with your nightly routine, your phone rings from your bedside table. You're quick to rush over, thinking it could be your assistant or your manager, with an urgent update about work.

But no - it's an unknown number. A UK number, as it appears.

Confused, you click answer anyway, putting it to your ear with a tentative, "Hello, who is this?"

"Hi, darling."

"Ewan?"

"Yeah, uhm, I hope I didn't disturb you - "

"Not at all," your answer comes out in a rushed breath.

"I also hope you don't mind that I got my assistant to ask your assistant to give me your number? It's what I wanted to ask you before you left today."

"Oh." You feel fully awake now, by some miracle, butterflies finding home in your stomach. "I don't mind. I... I should have given you my number, anyway. I have most of the cast's, in case I need to get a hold of you guys."

"Hmm, right," he says from the other end. You hear him calmly breathing, the sound strangely comforting, and wonder if he can hear the same from you.

He says, "I just wanted to keep hearing your voice. Didn't get enough of it today," and your heart just about stops.

"Oh. Okay," is all you are able to respond with.

"What are you doing?"

"Just... just getting ready for bed." Phone pressed to your ear, you shuffle around the room, putting some things back in place.

He says nothing for a few seconds, but you still hear his breathing, and some shuffling in the background. It occurs to you that he might just be as nervous as you are now.

Maybe.

"Listen," he finally says, "do you want to hear my pitch to Ryan about why our characters should get together next season?"

A genuine laugh escapes you. He sure is persistent. Playful, sure, but you're definitely willing to play along.

"Let's hear it."

"First," he says, "you have to renounce Daemon as your favourite character - "

"Not a chance."

" - and swear your love for Aemond."

"Keep dreaming."

He laughs, and you can only picture the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Aww darling," he teases, "don't you love me?"

💌 part two - part three

The OGs will know that the final line is a nod to my first ever Aemond fic! 🖤

Did this slightly delay my series works? Yes, yes it did. Do I regret it? For Ewan frickin Mitchell, I would never ~

[writer-freak]

Lads x Gn reader | Nice Pants. Can I test the zipper?

Characters: Xavier, Rafayel, Sylus and Zayne

Warning: gn reader, suggestive, english isn't my first language, pretty short

A/n: And another version of this prompt this time with the guys from lads. I am personally not that into Zayne but my friend loves him so I try my best to write for him. Hope you guys enjoy.

Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated and really motivate me to write more <3

Xavier

You and Xavier are lounging around in his living room, taking a break. He’s leaning against your shoulder almost dozing off while you are on your phone. After seeing the post you turned your head toward Xavier.

“Nice pants,” you say, biting your lip to hide a grin. “Can I test the zipper?”

Xavier pauses, glancing up at you with one eyebrow quirked. “Test the zipper, huh?” he repeats, now awake and clearly amused. His eyes scan your face, trying to figure out if you’re serious or just messing with him.

He leans back, crossing his arms. “Go ahead, but if this is a TikTok prank, I’m confiscating your phone.”

You laugh, reaching for the zipper, but he catches your hand midway, pulling you close instead. “Just so you know,” he whispers, his lips brushing your ear, “once you start, I might not let you stop.”

Rafayel

Rafayel is sprawled out on the couch, flipping through a book, but you can tell he’s not really reading it. His eyes keep drifting toward you, clearly more interested in what you’re up to.

You decide to have a little fun. “Nice pants,” you say, leaning over the back of the couch with a sly grin. “Mind if I test the zipper?”

Rafayel freezes, his book slipping from his fingers, and he turns to look at you with wide eyes. For a split second, he looks genuinely surprised, but then a slow, mischievous smile spreads across his face.

“What did you just say?” he asks, a playful spark in his voice like he’s daring you to repeat yourself.

You repeat the question, trying to sound as innocent as possible, but there’s a clear challenge in your tone. Rafayel lets out a laugh, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “You really know how to keep things interesting,” he says, shaking his head with a grin.

He shifts on the couch, patting his lap invitingly, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Alright then, be my guest. But just know… this might end up being a full demonstration, not just a test.”

The playful challenge in his voice makes your heart race, but you just grin back at him. “Oh, I’m counting on it,” you reply, your tone matching his.

Sylus

Sylus is busy cleaning his gun, and you decide this is the perfect moment to hit him with your line.

“Nice pants, Sy. Can I test the zipper?”

He doesn’t even look up at first, just hums in acknowledgment. Then, as the words sink in, he stops what he’s doing and finally glances at you, an eyebrow raised.

“Excuse me?” His tone is flat, but there’s a twitch at the corner of his mouth that shows his amusement.

You repeat the question, and he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Is that a TikTok thing?” he asks, deadpan.

You nod, grinning. “Yup.”

He shakes his head, chuckling under his breath. “TikTok’s gonna get you into trouble one of these days.”

Before you can respond, he stands up, closing the distance between you in two steps. He tilts your chin up with one hand, his gaze intense. “But sure, darling, go ahead. Just remember, once you start, there’s no turning back.”

He steps back, gesturing grandly to his zipper with a smirk. You laugh, feeling your cheeks heat up as you realize what you’ve just gotten yourself into.

Zayne

Zayne is engrossed in some charts, his focus completely elsewhere as you slide up next to him. You wait for just the right moment before dropping your line.

“Nice pants, Zayne. Can I test the zipper?”

He blinks, the words taking a second to register his usually calm expression morphing into something darker. He turns to you, leaning in so close you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes.

“Careful what you wish for, sweetheart” he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave. “You might start something you can’t finish.”

He straightens up, pretending to return to his work, but you notice the slight flush on his cheeks. A chuckle escapes him, and he shakes his head. “Where do you come up with these things?”

You shrug. “TikTok.”

Zayne smirks. “Well, let’s hope TikTok doesn’t get you into too much trouble.”

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

[choccorin]

fluff , itoshi rin x gn!reader, self indulgent

n. rin brainrot is real. i wrote this at 3 am so expect errors !! <3

rin had managed to get a one week break from his work — because his coach forced him to, saying that he was working too much and that he should rest — and what better way to spend a week off than going to a resort with his lovely partner.

you booked a room at this beautiful resort to spend time together and while booking, rin says that the room must have two beds. you’ve been dating for a couple of months now, but haven't slept on the same bed before. that’s because rin is still shy around you, even if he doesn't show it — his reactions are always obvious. and that he’s not really the physical touch guy.

when the two of you arrive at the scheduled date, the receptionist tells you that there was a mistake in their system and that your booked room was accidentally given to someone else. they also couldn't take the room back because the customer came in a day before you. you look at rin who looks absolutely pissed, his face didn't change much but his eyes express everything. before he speaks, you cut him off,

“i’ll handle this, rin.” you smiled, gently squeezing on his left arm, giving him assurance.

he scoffs, “hmph. fine.”

while rin stands on a side of the counter, slightly frowning, you converse with the receptionist, asking if there are any rooms available. yes, they respond. but there was one issue.

��—————

“one bed. there’s only one bed.” rin glares at the perfectly prepared bed with swan towels. he looks so displeased that it actually shows on his whole face, and his cheeks have that slight tint of pink, you giggle at the sight.

“ha? what’s so funny?!” he looks at you, flustered and confused.

“you just look so cute when you’re flustered, rin.” you try to stifle your giggles.

while giggling, the vast sea caughts your eye. you daze at how beautiful it looks from your room floor, you’re so focused that you don’t notice your boyfriend admiring you with a soft smile planted on his face.

rin would’ve rushed to the receptionist to change the rooms if you didn't look so perfect right now.

——————

since the two of you got here early, you both decided to have some fun at the beach and explore the resort as well. you were glad thar there weren't many people that recognized rin, or maybe they just respected his private life, either way you were happy that your boyfriend finally got to relax after training for weeks.

once you get back to the hotel, the problem hits you right after entering the room. both of you had so much fun that you both forgot that you were going to share the bed tonight, and also for the whole week.

rin suggests that he should just sleep on the couch with you immediately decline. what kind of girlfriend are you if you let your professional athlete boyfriend sleep on a couch that he could barely even lay on down, right?

you suggest that you sleep on the floor which he also, immediately declines. you’re now out of options, so you just decide to sleep on the same bed.

rin laid down far from you that almost feel offended, his back is facing you too, he really doesn't want to sleep on the same bed huh.

you went to ask on how he’s doing so you flip him to his back side and to your surprise, he’s absolutely flushed, red as a tomato, he’s so flustered that it’s out of character.

you knew he was shy on sleeping on the same bed but wasn't this too much?! he’s so red that your afraid he might pass out so you calm him down by holding his hands, giving them a few tight squeezes.

you're both now facing each other, making little talks here and there, you can tell that he’s still tense so you keep holding his hands until you both doze off, succumbing to sleep.

——————

when you wake up next morning, you’re surprised to see that you’re laying on top of him, on his chest. his arms are holding you tight which you know you have zero chances of escaping, so you just admire your boyfriend instead. you always adore how peaceful rin looks compared to how he usually is, his body is warm and his arms are comforting to be in. this is the first time this has happened so you might as well savor it to your hearts’ content.

[marysdonuts]

Tom and Jerry

school clown!Hoshi x top student!reader

Synopsis: After transferring schools the attention seeker Soonyoung keeps getting on your nerves. Fortunately it is way too easy to make fun of his somewhat lacking intellect. One day you take your snarky comments too far and Hoshi is all fun and games, until he wasn't

Warnings: smut, enemies to lovers, high IQ (f.) x low IQ (m.), slight angst, school setting, classmates, public sex, revenge sex, dirty talk, crack, spanking, fingering, penetration, inferiority complex, questionable fashion choices

WC: 1.4K

Status: part 1 (ongoing), part 2

a/n: join my taglist to get notified about new chapters

Changing schools was easier than you thought it would be. You were halfway through your senior year of high school at the crisp age of 17. The family had to move to different city for work. Making new friends was effortless - you were intelligent, good looking and fun to be around. Of course, big part of your popularity was thanks to the charm of the next new thing which always attracted many admirers. You were getting straight A's, enjoyed busy social life, everything seemed perfect.

Well, almost perfect.

If it wasn't for Hoshi Kwon. The school's appointed clown, now pushing 19 years old, he failed his senior year twice. Pathetic, how could somebody be so stupid? You hated him the moment he showed up on the first day of school - in purple suit, tiger print on the collar with matching hat. Cane in hand. Kicking the door open while singing Sherlock from Shinee he danced can-can. His legs flying up to the rhythm of - I'm so curious yeah! Everybody loved the performance. Everybody except you. The fuck? Where did he even get that ugly ass outfit and apparently his real name was not Hoshi but Soonyoung. Who the hell calls themselves Hoshi? Does he think he is a celebrity? Stupid ass name.

After the teacher assigned him as your desk-mate he made it his mission to annoy you. Teacher's reasoning being - he might calm down sitting next to the top student. Such a nonsense. Isn't it their job to know how to control the kids? You weren't getting paid enough for this. In fact, weren't getting paid at all!!

//

On Friday he arrived to class more excited than usual.

"Look at my fit!" kicking his foot proudly on the wooden desk in front of you. Before you had time to push him off he continued

"Do you like my new shoes?" expecting compliments

"I haven't seen uglier shoes in my entire life." you responded with no emotions what so ever

"What do you mean ugly" his already small eyes squinting into straight lines, eyebrows frowning comically

You couldn't help but laugh. He looked like cartoon character

"Now you laughing at me too?!" Stomping the foot that was still resting on your desk " They are Balenciaga!" still stomping

"They look like boats," lazily resting your chin on the top of you hand "if refugees used these," pointing at the monstrosity "instead of those tiny motor boats, their survival rate would be 100%"

You could hear an audible *gasp* leaving his mouth and muffled laughs from the classmates sitting behind you.

"You are the worst!" he cried out "Do you even know how expensive they were.." tear forming at the corner of his cartoony eyes

"Probably as expensive as the donations your parents must be sending to the school each year to keep you studying here" your voice full of disdain

"wow a kick under the belt now, huh?" you could see the wheels in his little hamster brain spinning at full speed

"You will regret this" was all he could come up with in the moment

"I don't think so" smirk on your face beamed with satisfaction but the sudden dark shadow crossing Soonyoung's usually friendly face put a knot in your stomach

//

Much later that day, after your extra-curricular classes finished, you are standing in the dimly lit locker room reorganising the mess compiled after busy week. School was already empty and you loved the silence. The long halls full of lockers did look a bit spooky now but it wasn't your first time being there alone.

Squeeky steps approaching from behind you. Sounded like one of those Crocs.

"Anybody there?" you were sure it was just your imagination, simply asking the ghosts a rhetorical question

"What if there is.." vibrations of low growl echoed thru your ear sending shivers down the spine

"The hell..?" catching a glimpse of Hoshi in your peripheral vision. Why is he here this late? You knew damn well he ain't taking any extra classes.

"I was waiting for you..." his voice even closer now, hot breath touching the exposed skin of your neck. He was so close to you. You could hear his heart beating. Du dum. Du dum. Du dum. Stable. Confident. In control. Yours on the other hand reaching high frequency of dudududududum.

"What do you think you are doing, Kwon?" forced annoyance in your tone trying to mask something that was hiding a bit deeper. Panic perhaps?

"You tell me," he laughed but it sounded more like a threat "aren't you the one who knows it all?" Pressing the weight of his athletic body on yours, something hard forcing itself against your bottom made you gasp

"h-hey what's your problem.." you tried to sound intimidating, voice betraying you suddenly, only producing shattered whine

"You" not waisting one more second Soonyoung licked the curve of your neck completely sandwiching you between his throbbing heat and your cold locker. Kissing your sensitive skin as if he was waiting for it for so long. Wet kisses quickly becoming possessive bites leaving marks as his signature.

"oh fu-" was all that managed to escape your quivering lips as his hand spanked your ass with such force, it took your breathe away. You didn't want to admit it, but this situation? It was making you so incredibly wet.

Yes, you did hate him. Yes, he was annoying and loud. Always wanting to be the centre of attention. Apart from that you couldn't deny how good looking he actually was. Only person in school who could pull off blond hair and those horrendous outfits.Oh and how the lean muscles played on his body during P.E. class..? Except for his personality, he was 10/10

"You don't have any smart comeback now, do you?" Slapping you once more. Making you loose your breath - again.

"You look much nicer like this" the hand on your bottom started to move lower. Pushing your legs apart with his knee, making a way for his long fingers. Lightly tracing the center of your soaked panties

"stupid uniform-" you cursed. Why the hell did boys wear trousers but they made girls wear skirts? The last line of defence has been crossed.

"Oh?" rubbing the wet fabric "you are dripping all over your pretty panties" the strokes becoming spirals, combining your folds and the textile into unified mess

"I-I'm not..!" knees weakening into his skilful movements

"Mmm, I thought top students are not allowed to lie" forcing two fingers inside of you without warning. Deliciously thrusting into your pool of need.

"shut up-" already moaning. What the fuck am I doing? Now pushing your ass to meet his motion.

"If you are going to fuck me, at least do it right" another push against him "or are you too stupid even for that?" you mocked him, taking at least a bit of your power back

All you could hear was Hoshi's sinful laugh and clinking of metal as his jeans came undone collapsing on the tiled floor. His throbbing member now on your clit soaking in the wetness you produced. Gliding teasingly over it

"What if I don't want to?" rubbing in painfully slow rhythm, making you see stars

Hoshi was very much enjoying this moment. Moment of having upper hand on somebody he couldn't challenge intellectually, on somebody who always knew what to say, somebody who was making him feel and look small. Crushing his ego on everyday basis. Fortunately you were just his type.

"P-please..?" heard yourself saying. Almost as surprised as he was. But fuck it, his dick felt so good on you pussy and it was long time since you had any intimacy. It made you uncharacteristically needy. What's wrong with little steamy sex in the locker room? Nothing. Yeah.

"Please Soonyoung, I want to feel you inside of me. I can't take it anymore. You win."

Grin from ear to ear Hoshi finally entered you with such an enthusiasm like a kid getting the toy he really wanted.

Holding you by the wrists you were hanging off in empty air. Slapping the balls against your needy pussy he was pounding you mercilessly. Waves of pleasure running thru every inch of your body. You didn't notice it before but now you could feel it clearly. His dick had a curve to it and it felt fucking good. On every thrust the tip hitting you exactly where you wanted. You were full of him.

Why is it always these good for nothing guys who fuck the best? Or maybe you were just too harsh on him? You pondered as the following thrust almost took you over the edge, making your head fall forward.

And down there between your trembling legs pair of hideous Balenciaga sneakers

[buckets-and-trees]

Welcome Home, Pumpkin [spiced]

Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Hansen x curvy Female!Reader Word Count: 1.9k Summary: Bad ethics. Zero impulse control. This is what everyone says about him. What will it mean for you tonight?

Content/Warnings: dubious consent, soft!dark story, use of pet name "Pumpkin," explicit smut (fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse), orgasm denial, groping, light choking, bondage

Notes: This is the second of three in a set of short stories with Lloyd served three ways - soft, soft!dark, and dark. The three feature the same setting, overlapping themes, shared thoughts, and bits of dialogue. Spiced is the soft!dark version.

sugar pumpkin | smashed pumpkin

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You shut the door behind you and sigh, happy to be home after a long day - a long week, really. 

You slip your shoes off, hang your bag on the hook by the door, and turn on some music before making your way down the hall to your bedroom, ready to change from your professional clothes to something comfy to lounge in the rest of the evening. 

You jump when a deep, serious voice you aren’t expecting says, “Welcome home, Pumpkin.”

Your heart rockets into your throat, and you grip the doorframe. “Lloyd Hansen!”

He chuckles, rising from the spot he’d been perched on the edge of the bed. 

“You’re not supposed to be here.” 

He makes a show of bowing slightly, “And yet, here I am.”

You hesitate in the doorway, studying the face of the man you are now so familiar with. The steel blue eyes, the sharp jawline, the ridiculous mustache you hoped to avoid indefinitely. 

He looks you up and down slowly, then sits back on the bed. “Did you think I would really be stuck in a Lithuanian prison?”

You narrow your eyes slightly and chew the inside of your cheek. His eyes study you as much as you’re studying him, and you don’t want to give anything away. 

“Aw, you did. That’s cute,” he says, voice dripping in saccharine sweetness. “You should’ve known I’d be able to work myself out of there in two or three days, at most.”

You shrug. “A girl can hope.”

“Only one night, by the way, since I know you won’t ask,” he says, clearly wanting to boast. 

“And that was six months ago,” you counter. “I finished the job and got the paycheck.”

“The job might be done, but we have unfinished business, Pumpkin. And it’s more fun surprising you like this when you thought you’d never see me again, isn’t it?” he simpers. 

He might have been biding his time to drop in on your life again, and you can sense he’s eager, a bit impatient, but you also sense he will play this out the way he wants now that the two of you are in the same room together again.

And you hate the way you’ve been drawn to this man since the day you two first crossed paths. He is dangerous and untrustworthy. You operate in the daylight and occasionally step into the shadows, but he lives in the dark, revels in it. 

“Are you going to tell me what you’re keeping from me? Why you took the contract in Kaunas in the first place?” he asks, lifting his chin just a fraction. 

And oh that look does something to you - the delicious swoop in your stomach that made you weak in Eastern Europe and traitorously eager for him now. 

“No,” you finally answer. Slowly, you take measured steps toward him. 

“Fair enough. But I might get under your skin enough to change your tune, wind you up, have you singing all sorts of secrets for me.”

“How much time did you spend thinking up that line? The imagery, the alliteration? Impressive.”

“Not the only thing that’s impressive about me,” he responds without a second thought.

You scoff, but there is an impertinent flutter in your chest you try to tamp down. He talks - a lot - but from the brief time you were in each others’ orbit in Lithuania, you learned he could back up his bluster with brains and brawn. A dangerous player on the board.

“How much time did spend you think about my fingers deep in your pussy like they were in the closet in that day in Kaunas?”

His words hang in the air, a bold challenge that sends a shiver down your spine. Your mind immediately flashes back to the last day in Lithuania, when you had been alone, hiding in a closet and his fingers had boldly started to explore your body. You can almost feel the heat of his touch, his breath on your neck, and his hard body pressed against your back like they were that day. The memory floods your senses, the smell of wood and dust, the creaking of the floorboards as the hired goons patrolled up and down the hallway just on the other side of the door. And now, here he is, asking how much time she had spent thinking about it.

You couldn't deny to yourself the way your body responds to his words, his presence, craving that same intense pleasure again, but you can deny it to him. You have to.

“I didn’t want you then, and I don’t want you now,” you reply simply and walk over to your dresser, bypassing him on the bed. Methodically, you begin to take off your necklace, and then your watch, as if he’s not there.

“Want, need, crave…”

“Lloyd!” You gasp because those words are murmured directly in your ear, as Lloyd has moved with silent precision right behind you. 

“…those are all different things,” he says. He presses his hard body up against your back, pressing his pelvis up against your ass, knocking you roughly into the drawers, pinning you. “You may not want this, but need it? Crave it?”

“No,” you whimper when he grinds against you again. 

“Mmm, you made some pretty, soft sounds when we were hidden in the dark before. Wonder what sounds I can get you to make now that we’re not trying to be discreet.”

“We’re not trying to be anything,” you argue, squirming against him. 

“Anything with labels, no, definitely not,” he agrees. “But you’re itching for it, aren’t you, Pumpkin?” 

One of his large hands gropes your breast, and the other moves to your throat. He squeezes in both places, and you groan, a shiver ripping through you. 

He chuckles, “I see we like that.”

“No,” you whimper. 

“Boring!” he barks. 

In one swift motion, Lloyd hefts you up, flips you around and has you on the bed pinned beneath him, body pressing into yours. He growls into your mouth as he claims you in a filthy kiss. He props himself up slightly on one arm, and his other hand reaches to tear the front of your shirt open, rending the fabric in two. 

You look up at him, chest heaving, waiting with bated breath. 

He unbuttons the top of your pants and drags down the zipper, all the while looking in your eyes. 

“I find you wet, and I’m not stopping,” he insists, tone low, calculated. 

You could press your thighs together, try to squirm away from him, but he’s too strong, and you know what he’s going to find. You could even turn your head and look away, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

His fingers dip into your panties, and he goes straight for the cut of you, slick and wet for him, and slips a finger inside. 

“I knew it,” he whispers. His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing in slow circles.

You moan, arching into his touch, unable to resist the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Such a sensitive little thing,” he murmurs, adding another finger and thrusting them inside you.

You wriggle and writhe beneath him, unable to control your body’s response to his touch. He watches with dark satisfaction as you lose yourself in the moment.

“Lloyd,” you moan his name, and he chuckles softly.

“You sound so sweet when you say my name like that,” he coos, increasing the speed of his fingers inside you.

Your breath hitches as your orgasm approaches.

But then he pulls his thick fingers away, and a whine escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your body surges up, pelvis seeking his.

"You'll give me what I want," Lloyd purrs, his voice low and dangerous. He brings his slick fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. The sight makes you shiver involuntarily.

"Never," you breathe, but your voice lacks conviction.

Lloyd smirks, clearly not believing you. "We'll see about that."

He leans down, pressing his body against yours once more. His lips brush against your ear as he whispers, "I always get what I want. And right now, I want you."

Before you can respond, he captures your lips in another searing kiss. His hands roam your body, touching, teasing, igniting a fire within you that you've tried so hard to extinguish. You hate how easily he can affect you, how your body responds to his touch without your permission.

Lloyd's voice is a low rumble against your ear as he pins you to the bed. "You'll tell me everything I want to know."

You struggle to catch your breath, still reeling from the sudden loss of his touch. "I told you, I'm not giving you anything."

He smirks, trailing a finger down your cheek. "Oh, but you will. Your body's already betraying you. I think you’ll give me everything."

You think there’s a possibility he could end up being right, because while you didn’t think of him much after Lithuania, the truth is you did think of him. You thought of him on some of the nights alone in your bed when you had your best orgasms.

"What's the real reason you took that contract in Kaunas?" he demands.

You clench your jaw, refusing to answer. Lloyd's hand slides back to your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

"Come on, Pumpkin. Make this easy on yourself."

Your breath catches as his fingers tighten ever so slightly around your throat. The pressure sends a thrill through you, desire boiling in your belly despite your best efforts to resist.

"I won't tell you anything," you manage to choke out, your voice strained.

Lloyd's eyes darken with a mix of frustration and arousal. "So stubborn," he murmurs. "But I did hope you’d choose the hard way."

He takes off his belt and binds it around your forearms. He yanks the clothing completely down and off your bottom half, and then he’s between your legs, cock out, and pushing his thick, blunt head against your entrance. He leans down, his breath hot against your ear. "Last chance to tell me what I want to know."

You turn your head, refusing to meet his gaze. "Go to hell," you spit out.

He chuckles darkly. "Oh, we're already there, Pumpkin."

With one powerful thrust, he buries himself inside you. You cry out, overwhelmed by the sudden fullness. Lloyd groans, his fingers digging into your hips.

"Fuck, you feel even better than I thought you would.”

You moan and push your bound forearms at his chest.

Lloyd growls, grabs your wrists, and pins them above your head in one of his giant hands.

Then he proceeds to fuck you.

Slowly.

He gives you what you won’t admit you want.

Over and over again he gives it to you, until you’re boneless, voice hoarse, throat raw, limbs aching, babbling, but somehow still fighting against giving the one piece of information he’s seemingly desperate to have.

When dawn is about to break, dazed and delirious with pleasure, you wonder which of you will break first - or if neither of you will.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

all Welcome Home, Pumpkin stories

Aaaaah! So with the second one, what do you think? Was this anything like what you were expecting? Did you catch the repeated lines?

...and will you be ready for the third and darkest of the three?!

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[xtra7s]

After reading and gay panicking over "Something Special" I wanna see them doing some interviews together and just flirting. Wonder how the gays/fans might think about them and some of them were just "kiss already!"

𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹: 𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗶𝗲𝘄𝘀 ──── 𝘙𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘦 𝘙𝘢𝘱𝘱 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Synopsis: Renee and Y/N go on a few interviews for their new show, "Unveiling Hearts."

Content: Renee Rapp x Fem!Reader, fluff, some angst, jealous!Renee, shitty interviewer

Word Count: 1.7k

a/n: I love this request so much it was so fun to write. I hope you enjoy it!!

masterlist | previous part | next part

The soft hum of the studio lights filled the room as Renee Rapp and Y/N settled into their seats, ready for another interview about their hit show "Unveiling Hearts." The atmosphere was buzzing with excitement, and the chemistry between the two leading ladies was undeniable. The host, an enthusiastic journalist named Alex, couldn't help but notice the playful glances and subtle smiles exchanged between Renee and Y/N.

"Well, well, well, look at the dynamic duo gracing our studio today! Renee, Y/N, welcome back to the show!" Alex speaks loudly while grinning.

Renee smirks back at him, holding her hands out, opening and closing her fingers at him. "Thanks for having us, baby it's always a pleasure."

"Absolutely, we're thrilled to be here," Y/N responds, her thigh bumping against Renees.

The interview kicked off with questions about the latest season of "Unveiling Hearts," but the underlying tension between Renee and Y/N quickly surfaced. It wasn't long before the conversation took a turn, becoming a delightful dance of playful banter and teasing.

"Fans are loving the on-screen chemistry between your characters. How do you manage to make it look so effortless?" Alex asks, reading off of his cards as he tilts his head at them.

Renee grins at Y/N, turning her head back to Alex. "Well, when you're working with someone as talented and stunning as Y/N, it's hard not to have chemistry, on and off screen."

"Aw, thanks, Renee. You're not too bad yourself." Y/N returns the smile, squinting her eyes at Renee subtly.

The interview continued, with each question providing an opportunity for more flirting. Renee's fingers grazed Y/N's arm as they laughed at a shared inside joke, and Y/N playfully bit her lip when complimenting Renee's acting skills. The subtle touches and lingering glances were enough to leave the audience swooning.

Alex raised an eyebrow, asking a question curiously. "Alright, spill the beans! Are there any real-life romances blossoming behind the scenes?"

Renee and Y/N exchanged a knowing look before bursting into laughter.

Renee shakes her head softly, with a knowing grin. "Well, Alex, I think Y/N and I have a special connection, she's really my little baby, but it's all in good fun."

As the interview wrapped up, the air in the room was charged with anticipation. The chemistry between Renee Rapp and Y/N was undeniable, leaving fans eagerly awaiting the next episode of "Unveiling Hearts" and secretly hoping that the sparks flying off-screen might someday ignite into something more.

After the lively interview, Renee and Y/N found themselves in the hallway, heading toward the shared bathroom. The air was filled with light energy, a residue of the playful banter they had just shared on camera. Their laughter echoed through the hallway, a melody of shared secrets and inside jokes.

Renee smiled softly at Y/N as they walked through the halls of the building, "Well, that was certainly something."

"Definitely. I think we've mastered the art of subtle flirting during interviews." Y/N matched the expression on her face, their hands hitting against each other as they walked.

As they entered the bathroom, the door swung shut behind them. The atmosphere shifted, and the playful glances they exchanged during the interview now turned into something more intense. The muted lighting of the bathroom cast a warm glow over the scene.

Renee, unable to resist the magnetic pull, closed the distance between them. Y/N's eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as Renee cupped her cheek gently. They shared a knowing smile before their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss.

The taste of shared laughter lingered as their lips danced together, a delightful extension of the chemistry that had filled the interview room. The giggles bubbled up between kisses, and the two women found themselves lost in the moment, their connection deepening with each stolen breath.

Renee pulled back with a shy smile, her breath hitting Y/N's face from the height difference. "Who knew an interview could be so… electrifying?"

"Maybe we should consider adding some behind-the-scenes footage for our fans." Y/N murmured, joking quietly with Renee as she held her waist gently.

Their laughter echoed off the bathroom walls, a symphony of joy and shared affection. The kiss was sweet yet passionate, a secret celebration of their connection. Eventually, they pulled away, foreheads resting against each other, breaths mingling in the quiet intimacy. Renee spoke softly, "I guess our characters aren't the only ones with chemistry."

With one last shared laugh, they exited the bathroom, ready to face another interview for their show. The interview had been a playful dance, and the stolen kisses in the bathroom were the encore, leaving fans to speculate and daydream about the real-life love story unfolding behind the scenes of "Unveiling Hearts."

The studio lights illuminated the set as Y/N and Renee settled into their chairs for another interview. This time, the atmosphere was charged with a subtle tension. The host, a charismatic interviewer named Jordan, couldn't help but be captivated by Y/N's charm, and it didn't go unnoticed by Renee, who sat beside Y/N, casting occasional glances at Jordan.

Jordan smirked as he looked solely at Y/N, almost ignoring Renee's presence altogether. "Y/N, welcome back! It's always a pleasure to have you on the show."

"Thanks, Jordan. We're excited to be here." Y/N smiled with a nod, looking towards Renee with a supportive smile.

The questions started innocently enough, but as the interview progressed, Jordan's tone took on a more flirtatious edge. Y/N, being the charismatic (and nervous) individual she was, played along, exchanging smiles and witty banter. Renee, however, began to sense a shift in the dynamic and couldn't help but feel a twinge of protectiveness.

Jordan leaned in towards Y/N, an smile on his face making Y/N uneasy. "Y/N, your character on 'Unveiling Hearts' is just so captivating. How do you manage to bring such intensity to the screen?"

"Well, Jordan, it helps to have an amazing co-star like Renee. Our on-screen chemistry is something special." Y/N responded quickly, placing a hand on Renee's knee and squeezing it supportively as a way to calm her down.

Jordan raised an eyebrow, winking at Y/N. "I can imagine. But I must say, Y/N, your personal charm is equally captivating. How do you keep that magnetic energy off-screen?"

Renee's grip on the armrest tightened, and she shot a subtle glance at Y/N, who maintained her composed demeanor. The flirtatious undertones were growing more apparent, and Renee felt a rising urge to assert herself.

"Well, Jordan, Y/N is just naturally magnetic. It's hard not to be drawn to her, on and off the set." Renee responds, clenching her jaw as she smiles widely at him.

Jordan leans even closer, smiling at Renee but focusing on Y/N. "I couldn't agree more. And speaking of off-screen, are there any real-life romances going on with you beyond the screen, Y/N?"

Y/N held a wide smile, her eyes flickering down to Renee's clenched hands. "there is, actually. She's pretty great."

Renee snapped her head toward Y/N, a smile growing on her face softly, though her eyes revealed a subtle tension. She couldn't openly express her protective instincts, knowing their relationship needed to remain a secret. The interview continued with Jordan's flirty remarks, leaving Renee to navigate the delicate balance of maintaining composure while silently reassuring herself.

As the interview concluded, Y/N and Renee exchanged a look, a silent acknowledgment of the unique challenges they faced in the world of fame. Once off-camera, Y/N couldn't help but address the situation.

Once in the car, Y/N turned to Renee in the driver's seat, grabbing her hand softly. "Are you okay? That got a bit intense."

Renee smiled softly at Y/N as she examined Renee's palms, running her fingers over the fingernail marks dug into them. "I'm fine, Y/N. Just part of the job. Besides, I know you're mine, baby."

Y/N nodded, managing a smile, as she leaned down and kissed Renee's palms softly, the protective instinct lingering in Renee's eyes as they navigated the intricacies of fame and secrecy.

A few days had passed since the interview, and Y/N and Renee found themselves at home, seeking comfort in each other's company. The soft glow of the evening sun filled their living room as they nestled into the cushions of the sofa. With their favorite blanket draped over them, they scrolled through TikTok, creative edits and reactions the fans had come up with in response to the recent interview popping up on Renee's feed.

Y/N giggled, pointing cutely at the screen. "Look at this one, Renee! It's you being pissed as hell at that one interviewer "

Renee wrapped her arm around Y/N protectively, drawing her in closer, their bodies fitting perfectly together. As they watched the tiktoks, snippets of their playful banter during the interview were mixed with behind-the-scenes clips of them laughing and enjoying each other's company.

"Well, they certainly know how to capture our chemistry, on and off-screen." Renee grinned, grasping Y/N tightly as she kissed her gently.

Y/N kissed her back lightly, "It's amazing how creative the fans are. I love how they pick up on the smallest details."

They continued scrolling, finding edits that ranged from heartwarming to downright hilarious. The comments section was filled with fans expressing their love for the on-screen couple and speculating about the hidden dynamics behind the scenes.

Renee shook her head with an eye roll at the edit of Renee increasingly upset during Jordan's interview, "Fuck that asshole. Seriously."

Y/N chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to Renee's forehead. The weight of the secret they were keeping from the public faded away in the warmth of their shared laughter and affection.

They continued their TikTok journey, immersing themselves in the fan-created content that showcased their on-screen chemistry and the subtle hints of their off-screen connection. The living room echoed with laughter and the occasional gasp at the creativity of their dedicated fans.

Renee kissed her cheek, grinning at her. "We might need to step up our game if they're catching on this quickly."

"Game on, Rapp."

[pankielovesfan]

ii16 spoilers under cut

MORE talk about fan similar to the other post because there is still a lot to say. This is more about what fan means to mephone

Compared to most of the other contestants, Fan wasn't originally created to BE a contestant, which I find most interesting. Fan was quite literally created to be a fan of the show and randomly appears in season 1 (and he also delivers food I guess). Even if Mephone4 consciously made Fan or not, his appearance and creation obviously meant Mephone wanted appreciation for the things he was making, as is Fan's main purpose and service to Mephone. Fan is technically a manifestation of Mephone's love for the show itself, but he is also expressing vulnerable happiness of which Mephone feels like he could not express properly considering his issues with vulnerability. This might be why he is so outwardly dismissive of Fan's strong emotional enthusiasm for the show!!

So Fan technically is a support Mephone desperately wants, but he can't respond well to- but this definitely means Mephone appreciates Fan's dedication as he quite literally wished for Fan to exist as he is, being such an engaged Fan. He expresses passion for the show in a way Mephone couldn't do himself! Fan gives Mephone support as complete opposite to what Mephone feels Cobs would have! And you know what else Cobs does that Fan has an extreme well known trait of disliking and being scared of? Change. Cobs constantly reinvents, makes new things, discards old things, but Fan latches on. He observes patterns, he begs for predictability, structure and consistency.

Another notable trait of Fan is his defensiveness. Even if he's not good at it, he's incredibly stubborn to protect his passion and love to no end, being incredibly irrational about it. Cobs is well. Yeah. Massive Passion Disliker. He don't gaf about that. Fan might've looked up to cobs and meeple, but god if he's not possibly a parallel that's the opposite. I'm going to walk into the ocean. Im forever gonna think about how fan was created to be a support. like his entire goddam purpose is to love something so much!!!! and give it so much attention! and he is having so much fun doing it!!! IT IS MAKING ME CRAZY!!!!

I'm not sure if the characters are partly "extensions" of Mephone or if they're Mephone projecting specific parts of himself, I believe most of all they are created from his desire (like, wanting a specific thing and that thing just appears for him if this is done unintentionally,) but either way I enjoy thinking about what each trait that manifested for Fan's character specifically would resonate with Mephone's experiences and why he would create him with those traits. or something.

My working theory is that Mephone labeled each character in his mind as one thing, such as "the jerk" for Knife and nothing more, letting the contestants take their own shape and personality as they gain more experience on the show, which I feel is validated through Lightbulb saying "I don't think we were all there yet" once seeing the season 1 contestants in alternate reality show! They build more of their personality as it goes along. I think Mephone has minimal control of the contestants personality wise after he's generated them, but i do think he influences their memories or experience with time or something?? I dont know. guess we will all see. Also this somehow isn't about fan anymore wow that's weird actually who am i where am i

relevant drawing. Time to collapse to my knees over this shit again

[tkwrites]

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

Gif from offside-the-lines

Title: It Doesn’t Matter - Part III

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

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Nico Hischier x Original female character 

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

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

Word count: 13,400

Comments: Phew! We made it. Just barely.

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

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

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

It Doesn’t Matter - Part III

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

Except maybe now it was true?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The call went to voicemail. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

How was he supposed to answer that question? 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?�� 

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

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

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

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

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

His simple answer turned her insides to goo. 

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

“A little.” 

“Why? What’s wrong?” 

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

“What do you mean?” 

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

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

She giggled, knowing the feeling all too well. 

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

“Tell me about it,” she groaned. 

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

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

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

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

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

“How was class on Friday?” 

“Good. Professor Brown really likes my sketches.” 

“Yeah?” 

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

“That’s great.” 

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

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

His mouth went dry. “What?” 

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

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

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

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

That was only a few weeks away. 

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

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

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

That was a relief.

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

He didn’t respond. 

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

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

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

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

“Only if you’re sure.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“I would love that.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. I’ll call you tomorrow?” 

“That sounds great.” 

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

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

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

He hung up the phone, grinning.

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

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

“Dude, you’ve got to make a move.” 

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

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

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

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

He'd asked her what a woman did want. 

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

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

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

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

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

Touché, Mr. Hishier. Touché.

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

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

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

She didn’t even stir. 

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing out here, hase?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you stay?” she asked, quietly.

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

She nodded. 

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

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

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

“Uh,” he began, not sure what to do. 

“Just move him over here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was the best thing he could have asked for. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sneaking back into bed was always harder than leaving it. 

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

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

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

“Do you have practice this morning?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled and said something in German. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I should have told you sooner.” 

“Me too.” 

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

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

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

“What do you have today?” he asked. 

“Nothing.” 

“Nothing?” he repeated. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I use my mouth on you?”

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

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

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

Fuck. 

FUCK. 

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

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

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

“Did you think I would say no?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The lingerie.” 

Oh. 

Well. 

That was a bit different. 

Lena watched his eyes go dark with lust. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,”

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

He looked almost instantly disappointed. 

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

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

Though he appreciated the gesture, Nico shook his head. 

Stopping abruptly, Lena confirmed, “no?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nodded encouragingly. 

“Can I see the back?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Lay back,” he said. 

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

She was a fantasy in his dark sheets. 

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

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

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

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

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

She writhed beneath him.

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

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

Who was he to deny what she wanted? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

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

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

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

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

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

Falling back against his pillows, Lena moaned his name. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hands tightening on her thighs, he feasted. 

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

“Suck.” 

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

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

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

“Nico,” she gasped. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was good?” he asked. 

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

He smiled as she tried to find the words. 

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

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

“No, like kinky.” 

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

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

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

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

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

She climbed over him, straddling his torso. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lena.” 

She moved to the other side of his neck. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm?”

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

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

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

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

“What if I want to hear you beg?”

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

“Lena.” 

“Hmm?” 

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

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

His breath practically huffed out of his lungs. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He gulped. “I —” 

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

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

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

“You feel so good,” he groaned. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy shit,” he said. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sharing your food is like boyfriend 101.”

“I did order breakfast,” he offered. 

“When?”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s breakfast,” he said. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A smug smile took over his face. 

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

His brows shot up.

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

“What do you mean?” 

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

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

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

“Resented?” he asked. 

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

His brows drew together. 

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

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

“Listen, you don’t get it.”

“Don’t I?” 

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

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

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

“But you came to sports?”

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

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

Nico’s heart broke a little. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey Nico.”

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

She nodded. 

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

“The composition?” she guessed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” she asked, laughing. 

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

His confession made her heart burst, “really?” 

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

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

He blushed and smiled some more. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You listen?” she repeated. 

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

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

He nodded. 

“When did you notice that?” 

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

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

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

He smiled, nuzzling his cheek into her palm. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She snorted. 

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

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

His next breath came shallow. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nico.” 

He met her gaze. 

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

He scoffed. 

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

He looked almost as if he might cry. 

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

He chuckled, glad for her reassurance and humor. 

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

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

“Do you want me to keep going?” 

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

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

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

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

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

She nodded.

“You’ll tell me if —” 

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

And so, he eased forward. 

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

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

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

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

He swallowed and shifted his hips back. 

She took in a sharp breath. “Oh.”

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

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

A thousand little dreams came true.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m almost there.”

“Let go,” he growled. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Lena,” it came out a desperate moan.

This was…she was… “Lena.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dawson shrugged, feeling his face and neck get hot. 

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

“I was not,” Nico defended. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Distracted?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. 

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

She blushed. 

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

She rolled her eyes. 

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To read all my fics, check out my Fanfiction Masterlist

[moonsaver]

hi hi double yandere anon again -- thought i'd put this in a separate ask :] this is only if you wanna write it, but normal sunday with a yandere reader is giving me some great thoughts. like, reader flipping the script on him, usually so composed and with everything in control, and sunday has to deal with being entirely at their mercy. idk having usual character dynamics reversed is always fun to me, so! again tysm and have a great day!! :}

Hello anon! Since both of these inbox messagws are from you, hope you dont mind that i coupled them lol. Sorry it took so long for me to respond. Im glad to know you liked that piece!

Anyways, this is a very interesting dynamic in my opinion..

Sunday x yan!reader.....

Listen. You might actually be able to convince him to a degree. Lets be for real, this man is probably STARVED for some good loving. But like almost all hsr characters, he'd be unnerved by it at first. The most repulsive situation isn't the fact you're obsessed with him, but rather that he doesn't have control over this situation. You, somehow, do.

Sunday himself is a bit.. intense in my opinion. He's had his fair share of suitors, but most likely not many or any lovers at all. He's isolated to a degree, and doesn't feel like he's desperate for love.

But when yan!reader shows up, proclaims having oh so much love for sunday.. it turns the cogs in his head a bit.

Our dear yan actually has a good chance of winning Sunday over, depending on how you might present yourself inititally. It's like when you finally get a taste of something you didn't want, but realise you've needed almost your entire life.

He's reluctant, as.. minorly expected? But not for the reasons he should be. It's the control factor that's holding him back. His secondary concern is actually more logical – he doesn't know you. And it does unnerve him slightly when you give him the tip of the iceberg of how much you might know.

But, somehow, someway, if you manage to render Sunday unable to defend himself, or kidnap him, or strip him of his reliable abilities?

Boy he is freaking. Out.

He's speaking with a strained voice, his eyes almost blown wide open, his breathing is heavy, slow and shallow, as he desperately tries to stay calm, but every alarm in his head is about to burst from the signals at the loss of control. He's like a rabid dog that's shown a glass of water. Almost snarls at you. Hates hates hates this situation so much, and it's not too soon before he settles quietly with a glare, his mind working relentlessly to weave out of your trap.

But it's a strange pull. He protests and threatens you when you even try doing something – even if its harmless and he would allow you to outside of this situation. But then you wear him down, and you're so gentle with him. You kiss his face and hold him so close and warmly, you listen and even understand his ideals when he talks about them to gauge your personality. This feels as though it's the first time someone truly sees him – scary as it might be, to lay bare all your self, but the very fact you can love him so well makes him.. delirious.

Oh, but he still despises you (for the lack of a stronger word) because of the control aspect. However, instead of planning a heavy punishment for your crime of kidnapping him after he finds a way out.. he may form other methods of payback.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Home Away From Home 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, jealousy, mentions of loss, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki, Peter Parker (tall!reader)

Summary: You’ve been friends with the Odinsons since childhood. After years of separation, you reunite on Midgard after the destruction of Asgard, but find yourself caught between your old and new lives. 

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“That was so cool when you threw me,” Peter nearly hops to keep up with you. He might be small but he is fast. He is big in spirit. “And then I hit that guy with the elbow drop. Just like Macho Man.” 

“Macho Man?” You repeat curiously. “He is a friend of yours?” 

“Ha, no,” he shakes his head. “He was a wrestler. Real famous.” 

“A wrestler? I wrestle too! In Asgard, we always do so after a big feast.” You explain. 

“Really? Like you have a ring?” He asks. 

“Ring?” 

“Yeah, like where would you wrestle?” 

“On the floor...” you squint at him. His hair is still tussled and he still wears his funny red suit. 

“Mm,” he hums and nods. “You wrestled Thor?" 

“Oh, many times but he is a difficult adversary.” 

“What about Loki?” He wonders. 

“Once or twice, but only when he imbibed overly much. He thinks it’s unseemly,” you say. “Though I think it is because he doesn’t like to lose.” 

“Probably,” Peter snorts. “Would you wrestle me?” 

It’s your turn to laugh, “that’s very amusing to think of but I think we are outmatched.” 

“I can hold my own. You’ve seen me fight,” he argues. 

“Yes, I have, which is why I am deferring,” you say. “I’m afraid I’m known for my brute strength rather than my speed. I couldn’t keep up with you, dor-dígull.” 

“Hm, okay, well, I guess you’ve never seen Midgardian wrestling, have you?” He asks. 

“No, I haven’t.” 

“Ooh, I can show you my favourite matches,” he chimes excitedly. “I bet they're way more flashy than your Asgardian ones.” 

“Show me?” 

“Yeah, I have the videos. You know, we have wrestling shows,” he explains. 

“Ah, yes, the living pictures. I want to see it.” You agree. 

“Awesome. How about tonight? I’ll get us snacks.” He offers. 

You stop and face him. The rest of the team goes about their business without notice. You’re happy that they don’t seem to mind you. Especially since Thor couldn’t be there. Peter helped you feel a little less out of place. 

“Tonight,” you agree with a coy look.  

You don’t know much about Midgardians but you’ve been learning and you think you know what he’s asking. You’re not appalled at the idea. You’re even a bit flattered. He might not be built like an Asgardian but he is formidable nonetheless. 

“I’ll text you,” he grins. 

“And I will try to respond to your text,” you affirm. 

“Awesome!” He exclaims then calms himself, smoothing his hair. “You know, it’ll, uh, be fun.” 

“I’m certain it will,” you nod. “I should go report back to my people.” 

“Tell Thor I said hi? Oh, and Loki too,” he says. 

“Certainly,” you agree. You leave him as he runs after the blond-haired Captain and the man with the dark mop on his head and the black metal arm.  

You can’t deny your own excitement. Since Asgard turned to cinder and you became a refugee, since even before that, you’ve not had much opportunity to indulge in anything careless. You could do with a release. 

You weave your way through the tower. It hasn’t lost its shine. Everything is sleek and refined in that Midgardian fashion. And the people in their straight-cut clothing and tall shoes are amusing. You might go and find some of those for yourself. 

As you come into the lobby, a green flicker limns the edge of your vision.

You sigh, “Loki, where’ve you been?” You ask. 

“I assure you I've been doing more important things than playing games with Midgardian pretenders,” Loki drones. 

“We did good, Loki. We helped people in a big sandy place called Ar-i-zon-a,” you pronounce it deliberately. “You needn’t be bitter.” 

“I’m not bitter. You always were so presumptuous. You act as if you know me to the bone.” 

“I admit, Loki, I don’t know you as well as I once did,” you shrug as you push through the glass doors. “I don’t think anyone does, but if you gave anyone a chance...” You suggest. “Have you talked to any of the people? The women here are rather attractive.” 

“Women?” He spits. “I will not be languishing in the arms of a mortal.” 

“Or the men? It might do you well. To release the levee,” you nudge him with your elbow. 

“I don’t need—quiet. You shouldn’t speak of such things to a prince,” he hisses. 

“No, not anymore?” You wonder. “As right as ever, my prince, I do not know you as I once did. You should find one of those things... a hobby?” 

“I read,” he sniffs. “But their literature is so simplistic.” 

“Mm, they have sport. Oh, the little spider told me they have wrestling. They have shows you could watch. Or you could join in?” 

“These flimsy men would break,” he insists. 

“There are others here. In New Asgard. You could ask them.” 

“I don’t want to wrestle. It is a drunkard’s sport.” 

“Hm, yes, you were never much on it. Well, they have living pictures,” you point to one of the big signs on the side of the building. “You like theatre.” 

He huffs again. His defiance is irritating. As if anything you say will be wrong. He does that often to his brother. Well, you are not Thor and you will not let him spoil your day. 

“I will let you figure it out upon your own, then, for surely I know not of what I speak,” you say. “I hope that do find something to keep busy tonight.” 

“Tonight? You speak as if you are going somewhere? I thought we could find some activity. You seem more acquainted with this cursed place than I.” He says. 

“I am occupied. If you do not like the living pictures, they have stages, you could get a ticket,” you suggest. “Or perhaps you could ask your brother.” 

“I’d rather a crow pluck my eyes out.” He sneers. 

I’d rather one did too, you think to yourself. You stop and face him. You show your hands helplessly. 

“Tomorrow, prince. When I can avail myself to you, we will go around the city. There is a market I wish to peruse.” 

He stares at you dully, “fine. I suppose I can wait.” 

“You never struggled to amuse yourself,” you retort. “I’ve got to get going.” 

“You do? Where?” He asks. 

“I am no longer a ward of the crown,” you say. “I needn’t say.” 

“But I am asking,” he growls. 

You laugh, “you have not changed so much as you think.” 

You grin and spin away, strutting down the sidewalk. His sigh evaporates into another green hue at your back. You’ll deal with him tomorrow, once you’ve dislodged the thorn he’s poked into your side. 

[twilight-nephilim]

Do I wanna know ? || Blue Lock

Blue lock headcanons ! : Red flags + Arguments

Characters : Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Michael Kaiser & Alexis Ness (Separately)

Description: Their red flags in a relationship and how your arguments would look like

Word Count: 957

Warning/s: Arguments, All of them are assholes here, Mild swearing, Degradation, Emotional manipulation, Slight Abuse, Toxic Relationships, Kaiser, Most of this might be OOC

Note: This was originally supposed to be crack hcs but I thought it would be fun to make it serious 😭I am not romantacizing any of these red flags and if these things are happening in your irl relatioship please seek help

Rin Itoshi

After his brother left he started to act coldly to everyone else- including you.

As he would dedicate his entire life to football, it meant sometimes ignoring your needs,

Whether intentionally or unintentionally he would brush you off, leaving you to deal with things alone

Rin would be insensitive towards your feelings- saying things that would hurt you unknowingly

“You know… You didn’t need to say that…” You looked down at the ground as Rin just stared at you coldly, as if you were nothing. “Say what? That you aren’t important enough for me to care about? I talk to you almost everyday, isn’t that enough?” He said, his voice laced with venom. It hurt you, to say the least. Was it the way he said it so indifferently? Or was it the way he looked at you as if you were a nobody, someone who he just saw as a stepping stone to his goal. “Rin ! Can’t you just understand that you can’t just say that to me and expect me not to feel hurt from it?! Why do you treat me as just a ‘someone’ to you!? I’m your fucking girlfriend for god’s sake— can’t you understand that I need you to at least talk to me and act like you love me?!…”

Sae Itoshi

Similar to rin, he would act cold to you, but unlike rin he does it intentionally

Sae could ghost you for days and respond with a simple “k”

He doesn’t really realize that what he’s doing is a bad thing, and he refuses to accept his faults

Doesn’t trust you AT ALL but he himself lies or keeps things from you intentionally

“Sae… We need to talk” You looked at your boyfriend as he was laying on your bed, he turns to look at you with a bothered look. “What is it this time Y/n…” Sae groaned as he got his phone to do something. “Sae- listen, I know it’s kind of selfish for me to ask but… can you try to make time for me… You never really talk to me that much anymore…” You mumbled, but it was loud enough for Sae to hear you. “Am I not good enough for you?” He asked rhetorically with an annoyed look on his face. “No- That’s not what I meant-“ You shrieked as Sae suddenly stood up and walked up to you and grabs your wrist. “Then stop being selfish. I’m here aren’t I? I took a trip away from Spain to see you, can’t you just be thankful that I’m spending my time with someone as worthless as you?”

Michael Kaiser

Michael is a really complex character to say the least,

He can manipulate you into doing things that would benefit him under the guise of “making him happy”

Forces you to be more dependent on him so you feel more obligated to do what he wants

Sae 2.0 but worse

Puts himself above you, seeing you as just a emotional support when he’s upset

Expects you to be there for him whenever he’s angry or distressed, but doesn’t do the same for you because he thinks he’s more important than you.

Has MAJOR attachment issues and even if things got extremely toxic you couldn’t leave. He either guilts you into staying or you just come back to him.

You walked up to Kaiser after one of his matches, “Michael… I don’t know if it’s the right time, but can we talk?” Kaiser looked at your serious face with his usual playful look. “What is it, mein liebling? I don’t have all day” He said with a playful yet degrading tone. “I… I wanna break up, this isn’t working out. I just feel exhausted—“ You were cut off as Kaiser grabbed your wrist, his nails digging into your skin. “If you think you can leave me just like that, then you're fucking stupid” He pushed you down on the ground as he moved his hand to grab your hair, “I'm the only who would ever love your pathetic ass; you're worthless without me, so don't even try to leave me. Understood?”

Alexis Ness

Ness gets jealous easily. Seeing how he acts around kaiser, it’s not too far fetched to think he would act the same around his partner.

He doesn’t let you go out alone because he’s afraid that you would leave him for someone else.

Overprotective in a bad way

He gets picky over what you wear because it will attract attention and someone might ‘steal’ you from him

Will get into fights with you over kaiser

Guilt tripper pt. 2

“No. You will not go out tonight.” Ness said as he stared at you from the hallway, “Why not? I'm just gonna go out with my friend, and it's a mall ‘Lexis, It's not like I'm gonna leave you…” You explained but he ignored you and walked to the door, effectively stopping you from leaving. “Y/n… Why can’t you just listen to me!? You’re always picking someone over me, do you even love me anymore!?” Ness started crying, in shock you instinctively hugged him, as an attempt to comfort. “No wait— That’s not what I meant ‘Lexis, of course I love you. Please… don’t cry over me… I won’t leave anymore, I’ll stay.” You said as you tried to comfort Ness, you failed to notice the smirk he held.

[agoldenblackbird]

i'm gonna be a ranty bitch for a minute.

tbh i'm turned off even reading new buddie fic despite being a multishipper and have unfollowed a bunch of buddie accounts because i'm sick of the smug attitudes. one ask that i am otherwise not going to publish or respond to ended with 'sorry you don't understand media literacy bestie :)' fuck off. listen INFANT, i have been writing fanfic and original fic AND watching, reading and analyzing queer media since before you were born, i understand how character and story development works, and i know the difference between 'storyline i personally disliked' and 'bad writing.' this was BOTH, and it also was marketed to us as 'carefully crafted bi rep' and 'queer love story that is not about a bunch of pain and conflict FOR ONCE' so we have every right to be upset at the bait-and-switch.

the fact that i'm seeing the same exact posts - 'bt bones buddie CANON' that i saw three seasons ago after the bucktaylor breakup, or every time they thought buck and taylor MIGHT break up - says something. the fact that so many fans seem genuinely convinced (STILL!) that buddie is inevitable because there have been so many 'signs,' and then they rattle off a convoluted theory that would make the most hardcore taylor swift stan say 'wow, that's a bit of a reach,' honestly weirded me out a little when i first joined the 911 fandom. i have never been in a fandom where so many fans are insistent that their ship will be - not might be or could be, but WILL be - canon. i am skeptical both from past experience with other shows mishandling queer storylines or ship-baiting, and tim minnear's proven track record with this one of not really knowing what to do with buck's LI's. but i didn't want to yuck anybody's yum, so i let them have their theories and squee in peace, and unfollowed or blocked certain tags if i was seeing too much of it and getting annoyed. it's too out there for me, but i'm glad they're having fun!

yet they can't give us the same courtesy. they deride us as delusional for thinking that a canon pairing that was presented to us both in promo and the show itself as different and important (eg the bobby approval convo and 'buck getting off the hamster wheel') might last, and we're stupid to have ever liked tommy or lou or be disappointed at how the breakup was written, and if we point out the biphobia it's just sour grapes.

the bucktommy breakup is not the first time 911 has started out strong with an interesting storyline and fumbled it in the 4th quarter either because the writers got bored or in the name of needless drama/a 'gotcha' sudden twist. amir & bobby, eddie's fight club arc, the sperm donor SL, hen vs councilwoman ortiz, whatever the hell is going on with harry, the whole mess with shannon/kim, just to name a few. and especially the past couple of seasons, for me since 6b, the pacing has been off. they seem to have too much happening at once and many of the storylines don't have enough room to breathe to be narratively satisfying, or they get resolved in ways that feel lackluster.

if the toxic buddie stans who have been attacking lou on sm and sending death threats (wtf!) actually get what they want, which i admit is possible, but it's certainly not guaranteed….i don't know why they think the writers won't fumble that just as badly. it's not going to happen precisely the way they want it to because it is impossible to please everybody, that's what fanfic is for. but at this point i have zero faith that it would even be well done at all, and zero trust in the writers not to just sabotage or regress a character for funsies, and that's an excellent reason to stop watching the show. in most of my other fandoms i regard canon as a jumping-off point or a blurry outline at best, and i can have just as much fun in the 911 sandbox without any further input from canon at all, once i'm less angry.