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yowumi · 2 months ago

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underground boxer katsuki bakugou x nurse f! reader [ modern au ] TW. angst & smut

Underground boxer Katsuki Bakugou x Nurse F! Reader

Summary. Underground boxer Katsuki Bakugou who grew up watching his father fight in the ring, seeing the way men get knocked down just from the strikes of his fathers fist made his heart pump, he wanted to feel that adrenaline rush. Since then his father has passed and he fought his way into the life of a boxer. He wasn’t raised to be cared for or enjoy relying on other people, so why is it that he can’t wait for you to patch him up?

Warnings. Fighting, Violence, Slight gore (nothing too serious), Angst (not as much as i thought there would be) Crying, Smut, Masterbation, Obsession, Bakugou has lowkey never felt the touch of a woman, etc. (Not too much smut really)

DISCLAIMER: Characters belong to Kohei Horikoshi.

A/N. this won the vote, i hope you guys enjoy (I love angsty shit) there’s implied smut and masterbation althought it isn’t very heavy. Ive been recovering from the hurricane that has been passing so I kinda brainstormed this and quick wrote in in 3 days, I hope you guys enjoy and stay safe with all the crazy weather happening <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

One hit to the left, another to the right, 3 hits to the left and STRIKE. A man down.

Katsuki can feel the man get back up in hesitation, seeing his legs threatening to fall yet katsuki was untouched having the man on defense the whole round. What a sad component and this is supposed to be one of the best?

What a joke.

Taking katsuki lost in pride for granted, the man strikes him with a punch straight to the jaw, katsuki laughs already drunk of the adrenaline of such an unexpected move from someone as pathetic as him.

“atta girl, you’ve finally put your big girl pants on, i see” he teased the man, only making his rage stronger.

the guy comes charging at him in full rage, giving katsuki the advantage and knocking the man straight out leaving the man to hit the floor in a thump.

“yeah katsuki, you get his ass!” Kirishima cheers on from the bleachers knowing he’s up next.

Kirishima throws him his towel, “you make it hard for me to top that” and Katsuki gives a small glance of acknowledgment.

Katsuki wasn’t very talkative or perhaps he was talkative, but not very friendly. Although, Kirishima was someone he respected, he had known him since middle school so he’s friendly in his own way.

As Katsuki chugs down his water, some spilling on his chin, As stain begins to walk around the court, coming closer to Katsuki. Stain was known for his intense boxing skills, leaving some of them with eternal injuries that were fatal for many.

But Katsuki couldn’t give one shit. He had never met nor cared enough to listen to who he was, he hated the way he walked in like he owned the place, with that smug grin of his. God, he just wanted to punch that stupid look off his face.

“Who the hell is that runt” Katsuki orders answers from Kirishima, feeling the adrenaline rush comeback to him.

Kirishima gives off a small laugh, He wondered how Katsuki really didn’t know who he was, the guy was basically famous in the underground world.

“That’s Stain, he’s one of the best” Kirishima starts standing up knowing Katsuki’s temper might get the best of him, “He’s one of the guys you might not want to mess with in here, heard he’s killed a few.” He warned.

Stain notices the angry blonde haired man staring at him with hatred, in fact, Stain noticed from the second he walked in. He’s heard a lot about this new upcoming boxer ‘bakugou’, Katsuki being known for his punches being referred to as a ‘bomb’ or ‘explosion’, knocking his opponent’s out in one blow.

“Yeah, well it seems that bitch has a staring problem, he’s been staring at me like he wants my ass ever since he’s walked in.”

Katsuki begins to make his way over to Stain with nails in his fists as he hears Kirishima chase after him, “Hey katsuki wait- hold on now, you aren’t thinking man!”

“I’m just gonna put it out straight, I don’t like you or the way you walk around like you own everyone, so quit staring at me, will you!” Katsuki yells out at him with his usual annoyed aggression.

“Ah Bakugou, it’s nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard plenty, nice to finally meet you” Stain says giving a nonchalant and unreadable expression on him.

“I don’t care, i’ll care enough to know who you are if you can beat me in the ring.”

Stain thinks about his offer, “Hm, I guess we should settle this in the ring then Mr. Bakugou” He says giving one of his smirks that ticks Katsuki off.

“Yeah whatever, when I win, you’ll have to take your old ass away from here, maybe take yourself to a nursing home while you��re at it, grandma!” Katsuki yells at the man.

“And if I win?” Stain raises a brow. Kirishima sends a worried expression towards Bakugou, In which he ignores.

“You can take my spot in the ring for good or my ass, I don’t care, it’s not like I’ll lose anyways,” Katsuki says over confidently.

“If I win, you Katsuki Bakugou, will have to retire early.”

“Bet that.”

“I’ll see you in 7 months.” And like that it was settled.

They shake on it and go their separate ways.

Kirishima and Katsuki walk out into the dark alley in their usual comfortable silence before Kirishima finally breaks it,

“I don’t have a good feelings about this Katsuki, the guys dangerous and you both are putting your lives on the line” He expresses his concern.

“Every time we step into that ring we put our life on the line, this is no different, he is nothing special, quit worrying about it already.” Katsuki brushes him off.

Kirishima stares away as if he’s biting his tongue trying not to say what’s on his mind, Katsuki notices.

“If it’s bothering you that much, just come out and say it already, jeez” Katsuki says annoyed putting his hands in his pockets and stops walking.

“Well…maybe it isn’t a bad idea for you to retire early, you’re an amazing fighter, i’m not saying this because i think you aren’t good but because you have potential to get out of this place, you aren’t too deep in yet, you can still have a way out and live a good life, I don’t want you dying in here.” Kirishima feels relived finally getting that off his chest.

“Fighting is all I know, there’s nothing else for me, that’s just stupid, why the hell would i quit for a simple life like that when i could be rocking people’s shit and ego’s to the ground and you have a baby on the way with your girl, if anything you should be taking your own advice.”

Kirishima goes quiet, he knows he isn’t the person to be speaking about that subject when he knows Katsuki is right. They both needed help. Though they would never admit that.

With that they say their goodbyes to each other waving each other off as they go their separate ways.

Katsuki walks his way home on his usual route before he sees the same white van pass by him 3 times now, which stands out in the darkness of the night. He stares it down annoyed by it already before the van stops.

Katsuki takes his hands out of his pockets getting ready to take on whoever the hell is in that van.

Before he could react a guy comes up from behind him pressing a knife slashing against his rib leaving a huge scar of blood across his stomach. “Fuck! Come here, I’ll fucking kill you bitch!”

The man who stabbed him was covered in all black, jumping his way into the van before it drives off in a rush, Katsuki holds his wound with little complaints: to be fair, it isn’t the first time he’s been stabbed.

He walks his way home holding a hand against his stomach, figuring he will fix it up once he gets home with some alcohol and gauze.

Before he could reach his block he starts to feel his vision blur and the world starts spinning, before he hits the ground harshly, bleeding out onto the floor.

and just like that, he’s out.

“Oh my! Don’t worry sir, I’ll call an ambulance right now! They are on their way!” Katsuki heard an elderly woman’s voice say in a panic as he blacked out, barely remaining conscious.

He woke up in the hospital.

He hates hospitals, he hated the sounds of the beeping, he hated the pathetic ass nightgowns, he hated the nurses that think they can fix everything, he hated being taken care of.

It was pathetic, he thought.

He gets up to walk out the room, taking out the shit the doctors have injected in him with no reaction. Before he reaches the door handle a young women opens the door.

You smile at him, “Oh it seems you’re awake Mr. Bakugou, how are you feeling?”, sending him a comforting arm around his waist, directing him back towards his bed with a light expression.

Katsuki doesn’t move your hand, he just sits back down. What drugs did they give him, holy shit.

“Don’t worry, the slash in your rib wasn’t too deep and was an easy stitch, you will only be left with a scar. It seems you were already bleeding and bruised all over your body before you were cut, can you explain what happened last night for me sir?” you look up at him from your stool.

You looked like an angel, he thought maybe he died.

What the hell, why is he thinking these things?

“Got stabbed that’s all, can i get out of here now” He says looking away, deciding your eyes on him we’re making him not think properly.

How long has it been since a woman was nice to him? or looked at him like that? Had a woman ever shown concern for him before?

You let out a soft laugh at his desperation to get out, “Don’t worry, it shouldn’t be long sir, I would just like to hold you here a bit longer to ask you some questions and make sure you heal properly!”

“Okay” He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, your laugh was mesmerizing. He didn’t know what was wrong with him.

As the days go by, you helped him change his bandages, watched over him, helped him get up, even though the feeling of your touch on his bare chest made him see stars.

In this time he also learned about you, how they were the same age, how you became a doctor because of your mother who was sick and noticed how your coffee was always cold.

On the fourth and final day you were changing his bandages once again, “Mr. Bakugou” You say grabbing his attention.

“You can call me Katsuki, don’t like being called that.” he stated out, he wasn’t in his annoyed state as often when he was with you.

“Okay, Katsuki…May I ask what you do for a living, I know you said you didn’t want to talk about it but you’re bruised and cut everywhere and some look old and others look recent, all look different from one another, I’m concerned.” you say while running your fingers around the bruises and cuts examining them with your eyes.

“Why?” He asks

“Why what?” You ask, confused.

“Why are you concerned?” He was genuinely confused, Why were you so careful and concerned about him? Why did you take care of him like this?

“Because I’m your nurse, Katsuki, it’s my job” you say not thinking of anything of it, you were his nurse. Of course you noticed how beautiful he was, and how you found it cute when he looked down like a kid in trouble when he would slightly raise his tone at you, and maybe you did like his company a bit but you were his nurse, right? you had only know him for a few days, it’s just part of the job, right?

Katsuki looks away.

How could be so stupid.

It was your job, there was no reason behind any of it or feelings, you’re a nurse, he is your patient. Why did he feel so disappointed in your answer? Why was he expecting more from you, what was wrong with him.

You notice the change in expression as you finish wrapping him up,

“Did i say something wrong or accidentally hurt you? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t go prying like that, your business is your business Mr. Bakugou.”

“You are fine, think i’m ready to be let out though.” He says not maintaining eye contact as he puts his shirt on getting ready to leave.

“Oh, I understand. You are already signed for release but I will walk you out!” you offer with a smile hoping to cheer him up.

“I’m good, I’ve got it.” He says while walking out.

And just like that, you were gone.

But you weren’t, not from his mind. For the 3 weeks he would think about you constantly, craving the way you held his waist and body like a fragile piece of glass, missing your sweet laugh and comforting smile, the thought of you lingered inside his mind and soul, leaving him distracted constantly. Which was new for Katsuki.

He got in the ring, yet his mind felt so far away from it. Your face in his head, playing back the few days you spent together, as your patient. He needed to take a few shots before the round, just to get his mind off you.

He didn’t want that to be the last time he felt your warmth and hospitality. He wanted more, he wanted to be embraced in it.

Just like that he sent a striking punch to his opponent, another easy day, although he had some blood on his hands.

He never went to the hospital, he hates hospitals.

He can take care of himself, and it was a small bleeding and the usual fracture and pain of getting hurt out there.

So why did he drive his way to the hospital and specifically request that only you could check to see if his hand was broken?

When he saw your face he immediately felt the warmth in his chests, like a hole had been filled in it. Like it wasn’t empty anymore.

The way your hands felt examining his hands, tracing your fingers all over his big veiny hands.

In which you noticed, you had never noticed his hands before, how much bigger they were than yours or how much taller he was than you that you suddenly started to realize.

Or the way he looked at you like you were an angel sent down just for him.

Suddenly you felt suffocated and trapped by his stare, feelings nervous, why did you feel nervous with a patient?

“Come with me, Mr. Bakugou, I’ll get you examined right away” You say looking into his eyes

He nods and follows you to a room where he sits down and watches you as you examine his hands, not taking his eyes off you, feeling like the world has paused now that he’s with you again.

Like nothing else matters.

Is this what Kirishima was talking about?

Is this the simple life, simple needs, he needed you, but he loved that he needed you? He wanted more, more, more.

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, right?

“did you get bangs?” he asked now noticing the change of appearance, it looked good on her.

You blushed, surprised that he would notice something like that. “I did, im surprised you noticed.” Why did you feel so jittery all of a sudden?

“I like them.” He compliments you.

“Thank you, Mr. Bakugou.” You respond slightly losing composure as your face turns a light red at his compliments.

“Makes you look more mature, it’s sexy” He says without thinking, it was like he couldn’t control his thoughts today.

You wonder if you heard him right, his face showed no expression so you figured you misheard. “What happened to your hand today?” You ask taking advantage of how talkative he is today compared to the last time you talked.

“It’s nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about” He looks down at you, his heart felt heavy, he wanted to kiss you so bad.

He wanted you to take care of him in all the places he needed you.

He wanted you to touch him more, he needed it.

Before thinking he leaned down to press his lips against yours in the dark room.

And you let him. For a few seconds, you wanted to enjoy it, entranced in the moment.

You let his tongue enter your mouth and hold your cheek, letting him enter your mouth before coming back to reality, you were at work. Anyone could walk in.

And then you taste it.

The alcohol on his breath wasn’t something you could ignore.

No.

This was wrong on so many levels, he is your patient. you shouldn’t take advantage on him.

you push him off.

After you allow yourself to catch your breathe and see bakugou wait for you to say something, did he do something wrong?

“I think you should be assigned a new nurse.” you say. “I’ll have nurse jenna come and check you out, I don’t feel this is an appointment thing to do as your nurse.”

“Wait- what? I don’t want a new nurse, I requested you.” He said in slight sadness in his eyes, he had came here for you.

“I am sorry, Mr. Bakugou.” You say walking out.

He had no interest being in this hospital any longer if you weren’t taking care of him, he walked out back to his home.

His home that he lived alone in.

He sat in his bed still a bit tipsy, he fucked everything up didn’t he? He scared you off just because he couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself.

And yet he can’t feel sorry he did it.

He would do it again.

He would do anything to feel your lips against his again, he took the bottle of liquor near his bed and pressed it to his lips.

He wanted to taste you again.

And just like that Katsuki slid a hand down his chest, the same way you would, trying to mimic the way you did.

He let himself do that, not rushing, doing it slowly just how you would. He closes his eyes, imagining it was you.

Before he slides his hand down to his lower stomach, going even slower, hesitating.

This was so wrong.

But it felt so fucking good.

He pressed his palm over his sweatpants, rubbing the bulge in his pants to ease it some.

Before he slowly slid his hands in his pants, the same hands you touched.

He stroked himself over his boxers. feeling the precum already start to leak from him.

He felt so overstimulated.

He just needed you.

Just let him have tonight to think of you this way, it will be the last time, he promises.

…

1 Month Later.

Match after Match.

It was all he could do to get his mind away from you, before it was you taking his mind away from the matches.

One punch after another, he couldn’t stop fighting, He needed to keep fighting.

He found himself becoming even more aggressive, even shutting out Kirishima completely, as Kirishima became more concerned coming closer by the day to retiring.

He also found himself drinking more.

He never really was a drinker, he just wanted to numb the thoughts of you.

“Get me my usual” he demands the bartender as he slides some cash across the table.

“Alright sir, i’m just gonna need some Identification to confirm your over the age of 21.”

“You guys don’t usually ask for that, You’ve known me long enough to know i’m of age, now just get me it, i’m not in the mood” He says growing irritated.

“I’m sorry sir, but our new policy requires us to check everytime.”

“Well I don’t have my ID on me so can’t you just take a rain check or something.” Katsuki says growing even more annoyed by the second.

“I’m afraid I cannot sell you any alcohol until I see some ID, i’m going to need you to leave” The bartender slides him back his cash.

This ticks Katsuki off and he loses it. He randomly punches a guy who was walking in the bar as he starts to head out.

The guy turns towards him in anger, much bigger than katsuki

“What are you looking at big guy, you want a kiss or something, fuck off” He says now yelling.

The guys says to take this outside and little did Katsuki know that the man had a gun on him.

BOW!

one shot barely grazing his skin near the left side of his stomach and the pressure of the bullet sends Katsuki stepping back before the man comes at him with full force, bruising him.

Next thing he knows he’s in a corner of an alley beaten up half to death before he sees a familiar face.

He sees you.

He must have died.

How are you here?

“Katsuki! Is that you? What happened, It’s okay, I’ll take of you now just stay conscious for me please! your badly injured!” You say as you try to keep your composure but tears end up spilling out anyways. You try and pick up his body weight as he slouches against you as you take him to your apartment.

You lay him down on your couch carefully, thankfully he was only grazed so it wasn’t anything too major but he was still beaten up pretty badly.

You take care of him, you both don’t look nor say anything to each other. Before Katsuki stops your movements, placing a soft hand on your wrists.

“I’m so sorry.” he says looking you now in the eye with something you’ve never seen before. Not that angry or annoyed look, he seemed hurt, genuine, desperate.

It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t like you weren’t thinking of him too, it isn’t like you disliked the shared kiss between the two of you. It wasn’t like you weren’t waiting on him, as well.

maybe you needed him just as much as he needed you.

You were so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even realize Bakugou was now crying against your chest softly and quietly, holding onto your waist.

You held him.

Before you could think anymore, you pressed soft kisses against his forehead and ran your hands through his hair.

He looked up with you with teary eyes, “I get so angry constantly, I don’t even mean it, I never think before i do anything, please tell me if i’m doing this wrong. Don’t act accordingly, I don’t want to be your patient.”

“You aren’t my patient, Katsuki. I want you.” you say trying to reassure him as you cup his face, and he gives you a boyish expression as if he’s relieved by your answer.

“Please let me take care of you.” You look down at him desperately wanting to tend to his wounds, his hand is twitching.

Little does she knows it’s because he is nervous, not injured.

he nods and lets you.

You trace your fingers around his hands, this time more carefully, you kiss his fingers after wrapping his hands as he watches, never taking his eyes off you.

You’re kissing the same hands he used to jerk off to you.

He finds himself growing aroused at the thought, you were on top of him, he tried his best to contain his dick and not be such a guy.

Before you could think twice, you looked hard at his fingers before taking two in your mouth, kissing his finger tips as you stare at him.

You knew what it was doing to him.

You felt Katsuki grow under you, he felt big. You could feel him twitch as you took 2 fingers into your mouth, softly sucking.

You slowly begin to grind against the bulge under you as he grabs your hips holding you against him as he struggles not to let his eyes fall to the back of his head.

You begin to crouch over to him getting ready to take his pants off before he stops you.

“No” He says bluntly.

“Wha-“ you didn’t finish your sentence before he flipped you over with no effort, hovering over you now.

“I want to be the one to take care of you now.” He says looking down at your body like it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

He placed a soft peck kiss on your lips, “You’re beautiful, Y/n.” He says softly moaning against the skin of your neck before softly kissing the skin.

You blush under him and look away, he turns your face towards him. “Please don’t look away from me, want to look at your face while i take care of you, angel”

You nod in obedience and open your arms away from your chest to give him room to work his way down.

He kisses the softness of your collar bones, he thinks he’s never been this gentle in his life, it felt so easy being gentle with you, like he didn’t have to hold up his rude boy attitude with you.

He looked up for you to search for any discomfort, making sure you were perfectly comfortable as he did this. He took a hand to your chest and laid a soft firm grab, unbuttoning your shirt.

He leaves your bra on as he places his mouth over the soft plush skin of your breasts, playing with your nipples giving it a gentle twists loving the way your arch against him and let out a small whine when he touches you.

He loved that he was calling you pleasure, not harm.

“Katsuki, I need you.” The way you moaned out his name had him struggling to keep himself calm.

He wanted to hear more of it, just like that.

“i know, baby” He says while taking all your clothes off before removing his own as well.

That night he took care of you, in every way you needed. He wanted to return the favor you gave to him so many times. He would do it over and over again, He felt like a dog, loyal to you in every way.

…

The day of the Fight.

5 months later.

Stain enters the ring confidently as fans cheered loudly ranting on, some even making bets on who would die in the ring tonight.

Katsuki walks out onto the ring, blocking out all noises around him, his mind only on his fiancé (you) at home thinking he was asleep.

God, she would kill me if she found out, he thought to himself.

He hasn’t been in this ring since the day you’ve made love, he decided to completely devote himself to be a better man for you.

He just couldn’t miss this fight, and honestly if he did he probably would’ve been killed for it or worst they would’ve hurt you considering the fact that Stain was most likely the one who sent that man to stab him that day.

“You ready to get your ass beat, kid” Stain said spitting on the ground they walked on.

“Give me all you’ve got, old man”

And like that the match started, blow after blow, both stain and Katsuki going at each others throats, not backing down on anything, fighting for dominance in the ring.

Before Katsuki takes the high ground now finding a weak spot, landing a sharp punch sending a shock to Stain, earning a cocky chuckle from him

“Not bad, kid”

Katsuki takes this chance to come at full power, not giving Stain time to get up or reclaim his place, he knocks him down to the ground.

RIGHT.

LEFT.

He cockily laughs feeling himself getting cocky and drunk over the adrenaline of this before his mind runs back to you, a home to go back to.

He has a home to go back to.

He wants to come home to you, safe and sound, he doesn’t want you to cry or see him hurt, He wanted to be the one to take care of you.

Stain took Katsukis distraction to his advantage before pinning him to the ground harshly, making Katsuki groan. That’s gonna leave a bruise on his back.

Stain gets up and hangs on the ring.

No more.

He hears your voice, your sweet gentle voice.

Enough.

Katsuki could have easily gotten up. He easily could have dodged Stain. He easily could have beat him, claiming the title of number one.

BANG.

Stain jumped on top of Katsuki’s body landing a finishing fist on Katsuki’s chest before it hits the ground next to him, almost grazing him.

He missed.

He missed?

Why didn’t he hit him?

“What the hell” Katsuki yells out in confusion.

“I’m not gonna kill ya, kid. Your friend over there saved your ass, You both got something to go home to, don’t die here.”

Kirishima.

That little bastard saved his ass.

And just like that the match was over, Katsuki let Stain win.

This would be Katsuki’s last match.

Stain was right.

He had something to go home to, a beautiful woman who cared about him and that he was crazy about. He had a life ahead of him.

No title is worth more than that.

You were his home.

…

A/N. Apologies for the rushed and corny ending lowkey 😭 I have my mind set on a gojo fic at the moment that i am trying to work up the courage to write so i’ve been preoccupied, reblogs and notes are appreciated !! This isn’t proof read so srry if there’s any mistakes

#my hero academia #katsuki x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo mha

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miya-rin · 4 months ago

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“what the fuck do you two think youre doing?”

shit, you think, you didnt notice the balcony door had been slid open until you heard the voice of one of your brothers. you start to pull away from suna’s lips which earns you a small whine from his end, his grip tightens around you and honestly it its quite cute the way he is trying so hard to savour the moment. “come back later, we’re kinda busy.” the boy mutters before trying to move your face away from the distraction so that he can kiss you once more.

“suna you get your hands off of her right now, i dont give a fuck that its your birthday.” osamu pipes up, he looks furious and a little bit disgusted, if it hadnt been for the situation youre in right now you would think its kind of funny.

“samu lay off him, it was a mutual agreement, im just as guilty as he is ok?” that does not seem to help the boys understand, if anything they seem even more angry with you both.

“what the fuck do you mean it was a mutual agreement? are you two hooking up or something? yn he just turned 18 a few hours ago are you forgetting that?” atsumu says, he is rambling on with every excuse he can think of as to why this is “so wrong”, from the corner of your eye you can see suna trying so very hard to hide the grin that is creeping its way onto his face, his hands still all over you despite the fact that you arent alone anymore.

“listen, it was his birthday wish ok? i swear it didn’t mean anything,” sunas grip begins to loosen ever so slightly, “i just though it would get him off my back and get him over his little crush on me.” suna’s facial expression shifts but you choose to ignore it, you have bigger problems to deal with at the moment.

“no this is not ok, how would you feel if me or samu kissed one of your friends because it was their birthday wish?”

“that’s different, why would my friends want to kiss either of you?”

“excuse me? ill have you know that many women want to kiss me! and dont think youre getting off the hook either suna, ill make sure you never-“ you dont even want to hear the threat that is about to come out of his mouth, you just want to get out of this shitty situation.

“boys please, just give us five minutes to talk and then we will be back inside ok? i promise.” your efforts to plead with your brothers finally work.

“…fine,” atsumu mumbles, “but this better be a one time thing. im not gonna deal with you two being all lovey dovey around me.” and with that he lightly tugs on osamu’s sleeve, signalling him to walk back inside and continue the party. he closes the balcony door but not before bringing two fingers up to his eyes and then pointing them at the two of you. its a warning.

you turn back to suna and notice the sad look on his face - he looks kinda cute like this, “so, what do-“.

“did you really mean what you just said to them?” the poor boy looks heartbroken, after waiting three years to finally have a chance with the girl he loves wants the moment is ruined like that? “did you actually just do that so i would leave you alone?” his hands fully leave your body now and he takes a step back to put some distance between you two.

“well i mean sort of yeah… ive never looked at you in any way other than my brothers best friend if im going to be honest, i dont know if thats because of the age difference or what but ive never thought we could be anything.” the look of hurt is prominent on his face no matter how hard he tries to hide it, normally playful banter would have been thrown back and forth between the two of you but rintarou just stays silent, an indication that youve fucked up.

“listen suna i dont know what you want me to say, i wasnt really thinking when i said that to atsumu it just came out. i am 4 years older than you and many people would not approve of us if i decided to give you a chance.”

“who cares? i could treat you so right if you would just let me. i have waited entirely too long for this moment, all im asking for is one date.”

“you said that about the kiss too, one thing is never enough with you is it? you always need more.” a playful smile creeps onto your face which is outshined by the one on sunas, he knows that your smile means that you agree to go on a date with him.

“i really hope you arent fucking with me right now, that would be so cruel, especially on my birthday.”

“oh give the birthday excuse a rest now will you? you dont need to keep on at me you have already got what you want.”

“mhm i absolutely have,” he walks closer and once again wraps his arms around you, placing a hand under your jawbone to make you look up at him, “and i couldnt be happier.” he states as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss once more <3

714 notes · View notes

norrizzandpia · 1 year ago

Note

can we get pt 2 of 34+35 where yn releases nonsense or positions, everyone is more confused because are we talking about the same guy?? in response all yn does is mention his thighs 💀💀

YES MAAM OFC I LOVE THIS STORYLINE

WHO IS OSCAR PIASTRI? (OP81)

Summary: Oscar and Y/n always loved to mess with the fans. Fortunately, the best way to do that is spill their sex life.

Warnings: sexual conversations, language

Note: THE THIGHS 😫😫😫😫😫 SO MANY WORDS NOT ENOUGH TIME 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

ynnn Nonsense out now! 💋

Comments:

osc81fan I- WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

piaosc ARE WE SURE ALL OF US ARE TALKING ABT THE CORRECT MAN?

- mclarenpiaandlan YEAH WTF HOW IS THIS OSCAR

mclarensgirlll SHE DID THIS LAST TIME AND WE NEVER RECOVERED

- landonorris ILL NEVER RECOVER.

oscarpiastri ITS ABOUT MEEEEEEEE 🤭🤭

- danielricciardo we are aware.

- maxverstappen i think youve said that enough

- charlesleclerc YOURE SUPPOSED TO BE LITTLE OSCAR 😰😰😰

- ynnn definitely not LITTLE oscar 😏

- alexalbon STOP.

——

ynnn maybe i lied? Lookin’ at him doesn’t have me thinkin’ nonsense, it has me thinkin…

Comments:

oscarpiastri my girlfriend everyone 😀

- mclarensgirlll hes probably giggling at his phone at this very moment

- landonorris and youd be right!

maxverstappen IM SO SCARED FOR MY LIFE

- danielricciardo WE CANT ESCAPE IT

- alexalbon HE PLAYS THE SONGS EVERYWHERE

- landonorris IT NEVER ENDS.

ln4andop81 anyone else curious abt what shes going to say on that podcast next week where theyre infamous for asking abt sex????

- oscpastry i bet you oscar will forever be changed for us

- mclarensgirlll he already is 🥲

——

TWITTER

ln4andop81 IN HONOR OF 24 HOURS BEFORE Y/NS PODCAST EPISODE, DROP THE MOST SHOCKING LYRICS FROM NONSENSE DOWN BELOW

- oscpastry “you said you like my eyes and you like the make em roll” SOOOO BASICALLY WHEN WERE THOSE WORDS FALLING FROM OUR BABY’S LIPS????

- mclarenpiaandlan REAL BECAUSE HOW DOES HE EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT IS 😭😭

- mclarensgirlll I THINK THE LYRIC “opposite of soft” LET US KNOW HE IS WAYYYY MORE EXPERIENCED THAN WE THOUGHT

- piaosc DOM OSCAR????? FUCKING HOW. IN. WHAT. WORLD.

- ynnn this world! 💋

- piaosc IS THIS SOME SORT OF GAME???

- mclarenpiaandlan THE PATTERN IS PATTERNING

- mclarensgirlll ITS SO ICONIC MY BRAIN CANT HANDLE IT

——

TWITTER

ln4andop81 hows everyone doing after that podcast….

- mclarensgirlll “WHO IS OSCAR PIASTRI?” trending on twitter makes me feel less alone after listening to Y/n’s tell all

- mclarenpiaandlan host: “whats your favorite body part of oscar’s?” Y/n: “his thighs” BY THEN I ALREADY KNEW WHAT WAS COMING BUT THE HOST HAD TO KEEP GOING host: *giggling* “why?” Y/n: “10 out of 10 for riding” I THINK MY BRAIN WENT DEAD FOR A SEC

- piaosc GIRLY KEPT GOING TOO host: “did you ask or, like, how did that come about?” Y/n: “well, he was just kind of sitting there, manspread ya know, and he caught on the minute he saw the way i was looking at him. Ive never see him so excited before.” *laughing* “i think he enjoys it more than me!”

- ln4andop81 no words. Host: “so he knows you like his thighs?” Y/n: “Oh my god, yeah! I hate him for it but he purposefully wears his shortest pair of shorts around the house so when he sits, that’s all I see. I’m telling you, Oscar knows how much I love his body and he knows EXACTLY how to use it.” Host: “what do you mean?” Y/n: “just that the shirtless photo i posted of him is one of many and the rest of them could not be up on the internet for longer than 5 seconds before being taken down because they’re borderline all pornographic” OSCAR???? BABY BOY??? WHO ARE YOU.

- mclarensgirlll BRO AND THEN host: “your new song, Nonsense, mentions things being more rough than soft. Is that really true with him?” Y/n: “Are you kidding?! The fans who think he’s super innocent and pure are in for some serious whiplash when i say that he is anything but that. He’s not Oscar when we’re in bed. He’s some alter ego who has no problem fucking against a random wall.” UHHHHHHHHHHH RUE WHEN WAS THIS????

- oscarpiastri now THAT is one thing i wont be answering 😊

- ynnn knowing myself ill probably reveal it in some song in the future 🤦🏼‍♀️

- mclaren maybe try and hold off on that one plz bestie 😙

- landonorris ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^🙏🏻

- danielricciardo ^^

- alexalbon ^^^

- maxverstappen ^

- charlesleclerc ^^^^

3K notes · View notes

ashwhowrites · 7 months ago

Note

AHHHH IVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOUR REQUESTS TO OPEN UP!!!!! I’m obsessed with your writing 😩 (I apologize in advanced for my gibberish below for I am VERY high 😂)

Anywho (and you can totally ignore this if it’s not your cup of tea):

Would you possibly do an angst to fluff Eddie x reader fic where maybe instead of reader being the popular one, it was Eddie instead? Like instead of everyone hating on hellfire, they think it’s super cool and so Eddie is super popular and reader is like a quiet nerd. And like reader has a big crush on Eddie and Eddie knows but always makes fun of her for it because of his reputation but he secretly likes her too and then the events of the upside down happen? Like maybe it’s reader who lures the bats away instead of Eddie but Eddie saves the reader before she dies from the bats and he admits that he likes her back and they start dating?

Again, if it’s not your cup of tea you can totally ignore it but you’re the only person I feel like would do something magical with this.

I'm honored you believe I can do something magical with this. I hope I won you over.

I think this might be my favorite Eddie fic to date. I hope everyone enjoys this as much as I do! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

⚠️it ends happy and I like the ending. So don't complain in the comments about "she shouldn't have taken him back" it's fiction and sometimes we just want things to work out so for this fic, leave that opinion to yourself. Saying that in the kindest way I can❤️

To die for

Y/N wasn't the type to hang out with the popular crowd. She kept her distance and didn't interact with anyone. She focused on her studies and getting into the best school offered. No one wanted to stay in Hawkins, and she worked to get her ticket out.

Then she got a little distracted, and she hated to admit it.

Eddie Munson, the leader of hellfire. He was a punk, loved music, and caught the eyes of every girl. Y/N didn't see the attraction until they got paired to do an assignment in music class.

She twiddled her thumbs nervously when he walked over. She inhaled his cologne as he pulled out the chair next to her, his bright smile flashed her way as his cheeks scrunched. He was the only popular kid in music, and she was terrified to be paired with him.

But as they worked together, they talked about themselves. It turned out they had a lot in common. While the assignment was boring research, she couldn't help but be excited to go to music every day. The assignment was a huge part of their grade so the teacher gave them a month's worth of class to work on it. It didn't take more than one class for Y/N to be just as smitten with Eddie.

~~~

"I hate that we couldn't pick which musician to research. Like why can't we do Dio?" Y/N mumbled as she began to write down notes.

Eddie never lifted his head so fast, he looked away from the computer towards Y/N. Her eyes were on her paper.

"You listen to Dio?" Eddie let out a breathy laugh. He was shocked, to say the least. He never thought the cute nerd would listen to a band like that.

"Who doesn't," Y/N laughed, she finished writing the sentence and looked up. She gulped when she noticed Eddie's warm eyes staring at her. A smile of adoration on his face, it made her stomach flip.

"Damn, there's more than just brains and beauty to you, huh?" Eddie joked as he went back to the computer. His words repeated in Y/N's head as she sat stunned. Did he just admit she was pretty?

~~~

Y/N cleaned her room at a rapid pace. Eddie was going to be over any minute and she was terrified. She was positive Eddie had seen the inside of many girl's bedrooms and she did not want to leave a bad impression compared to the rest.

"Can we take a break? My eyes hurt." Eddie groaned as he fell back against her soft bed.

"Sure, I'll grab us some water." Y/N offered, as she went out of the room. Eddie stood up, and his socks landed on the soft carpet. He walked around her room. He took in her huge collection of books, many he never heard of before. He looked at her wall of music. Band posters were on the walls and cassettes were neatly placed on a shelf. He had to admit, she had great music taste.

Her closet was cracked open, and Eddie couldn't fight the urge. He cringed as the door creaked as he opened it.

"Pretty girl," Eddie smiled as he grabbed the acoustic guitar that leaned against the wall.

"What are you doing?"

Eddie jumped but kept a tight grip on the neck of the guitar.

"Uh, sorry. I was snooping." Eddie confessed, "You play?"

Y/N blushed at the thought of him snooping, embarrassed of what he found and thought.

"I've always wanted to, but I'm not very good. One of the things I couldn't teach myself." Y/N laughed sadly.

"Sit, I'll teach you," Eddie said, he sat on her bed

"Um, are you sure?"

"Pretty girl in my lap as I teach her the thing I love? Yeah, I'm sure." He smirked as she slowly walked over. She sat the water down on her side table.

She coughed as she sat on the bed, next to him.

"Can't teach you all the way over there," he teased, she swallowed her nerves when he moved behind her. He placed the guitar in her lap and wrapped his arms around her.

"You smell nice," Eddie said against her ear. Y/N felt her tongue go numb, too nervous to respond.

She placed her fingers on the guitar and Eddie's ghosted over hers. She tried to focus on his directions and movements, but his breath hitting her neck sent her somewhere down south.

After an hour, she successfully could play a few chords.

"That a girl," Eddie praised as he placed the guitar to the side. "Unfortunately, I have to go home."

"Oh um yeah, thanks for teaching me," Y/N said shyly as Eddie put on his jacket.

"Pleasure is all mine," Eddie winked.

Y/N stared at the spot where he once stood for what felt like hours.

~~~

After spending a full month together, Y/N didn't want it to end. Their assignment was turned in, and now they didn't have a reason to see each other.

Y/N found a way. She sat on the phone all night trying to win tickets to the Dio concert, on Friday night. She scored the tickets and couldn't wait to tell Eddie the exciting news. She raced through the halls spotted his curly hair and headed his way.

"Eddie!" She said excitedly as she bounced on her feet. She ignored all the friends surrounding him. Her eyes were on his. She felt her excitement dissolve when Eddie's eyes looked panicked. He looked at her and his friends, she swore he looked like he was going to throw up.

"Yo dude, who's this?" one of his friends said as the group laughed and nudged Eddie's arm.

"Some type of little girlfriend?" Another one was added on

Y/N blushed at the thought of being Eddie's girlfriend. It wasn't like she didn't think about it with all the flirting and soft touches.

But Y/N ignored in and continued.

"I scored tickets to Dio! This Friday night, you and me?" She was proud of herself for making it through the sentence without shaking.

Eddie's friends laughed....loud

Their screeches could be heard blocks down from the school. But she kept her focus on Eddie. He stood frozen. He didn't say a word as he stared back at her.

"Oh, how cute. Little nerd has a crush on ya, Munson!"

"Looks like someone has a date on Friday."

"Atta boy, another one on the list."

"I uh..uh" Eddie stuttered

"Do you think he's actually going to say yes?"

The crowd around them got bigger as the school watched.

Y/N felt his friend's words stab her in the chest. Now she felt like she wanted to throw up. Her eyes watered as she looked around, everyone was staring and waiting for Eddie's reaction.

"Are you going to say something?" She meant it as a question, but it sounded like a plea. Like she was pleading him to tell them they were wrong and that they had something. That their moments meant something to him.

Y/N saw the Eddie she knew disappear in his eyes, and she knew he was going to land the final blow. She stepped back as she tried to brace herself.

"Do I know you?" Eddie asked, he pretended to look confused as his friends laughed.

"Eddie, don't," she whimpered, but it didn't matter. It was popularity or her, and she knew it wasn't a fighting chance.

"Look, sweetheart. I am flattered, but there is no way in hell I'd ever go out with you." Eddie smirked as his friends nudged him and they all fist-bumped behind his back.

Y/N didn't say a word, she nodded sadly and turned around. She pushed through the crowd as the tears slipped down.

"Oh, poor baby is even crying!" A girl's voice announced, then laughs followed.

Y/N shoved the tickets in the trash before she ran out.

Eddie was dead to her.

Eddie gulped as she raced off. His friends still hyped him up as he felt the hallways closing in on him. He stepped forward as she threw the tickets in the trash, but he stopped.

He felt guilty, he felt so fucking guilty. He wanted more than anything to spend his Friday night singing along to his favorite band with the cutest girl he'd ever met. To hold her hand as they walked in, to dance like idiots during their favorite song, and to talk about it for days after.

But he panicked. He wasn't supposed to like someone like her.

~~~

After Y/N embarrassed herself in front of the whole school, her life went to hell.

She couldn't walk in the halls without people laughing and pointing.

She dreaded music class. She kept her head down whenever she walked in, she felt his eyes burn into her. But she refused to look in his direction. She should have known Eddie would only like her behind her bedroom door. She should have known he was incapable of liking her shamelessly.

The cafeteria was loud as Y/N walked to her table, Robin was already sitting and picking at her lunch.

"Hey Y/N!"

Y/N looked over her shoulder, she groaned when she realized it was coming from Eddie's table.

"Turns out Eddie does wanna see Dio!"

Y/N looked to Eddie who kept his head down. She looked back at his friend confused.

"Just with a hot cheerleader, not you!"

The table erupted in laughter as she bit her lip. She knew Eddie wouldn't speak up so she turned around and walked to her table.

"I'm sorry they are dicks," Robin said as Y/N sat down.

"It's whatever." Y/N shrugged

"Um Y/N?"

Y/N looked up and was shocked to see Eddie standing there. She looked behind him and noticed his table was watching.

"Yeah?" She asked quietly, it hurt to even look at him.

"I'm so sorry for everything," he whispered.

"Is it like a trap?" she asked confused, as she suspiciously looked back at his table.

"No, I just re-"

"Whatcha doing here, lover boy?" Eddie's friend appeared next to him.

"I was...umm" Eddie nervously stuttered, the panic in his body again. He looked at Y/N's sad face and back to his friend's accusing one.

"Not trying to talk her up, are you?" His friend asked with a chuckle.

"No, of course not! I was just telling her to stop calling me. Chick won't leave me alone." Eddie faked laughed. His friend seemed to believe him, laughing with him, as they walked back to their table.

Eddie looked over his shoulder and mouthed "Sorry" but Y/N rolled her eyes.

~~~

Even if Eddie agreed to go to the concert, he wouldn't have been able to go.

Instead of sulking in his room about his poor decisions, he was stuck in the upside down.

"Dustin and Eddie you go to the trailer and lure them to you. Then the second the bats come, get back inside the trailer. Do not come out!" Steve said, his finger pointed at Dustin.

The group went to their positions and prayed their plan would work.

"QUICK WE NEED TO CREATE MORE NOISE TO LURE THE BATS AWAY FROM EDDIE AND DUSTIN!" Steve screamed.

"I KNOW WHAT TO DO!" Robin yelled as she grabbed the radio.

A panicked Dustin screamed over the radio as the bats began to chip parts of the trailer away. Eddie tried to swallow his fear but he knew this was it. He lived his life, did he have any regrets? So damn many.

He hated that he couldn't fix things with Y/N. He hated that she wouldn't get the closure she deserved, she wouldn't get the apology Eddie had been practicing for weeks.

If he knew his life was going to end so short, he wouldn't have wasted it on popularity. He would have picked her.

Eddie closed his eyes as he felt the cold air rush in, the bats were loud as they began to swarm into the trailer. He cried out as the bats clawed and nipped at his skin. He yelled for Dustin to run and not stop.

Eddie wasn't sure who to pray to but he did. He prayed as his clothes were torn and he felt blood rushing down his chest.

Then suddenly, the bats stopped.

A loud ring of music began to blast, Eddie knew he left his guitar on the top, and the sound wasn't coming from it.

The bats raced out and chased the sound.

"Who's doing that?" Dustin asked

"I have no idea. You okay?" Eddie asked, checking on him before he grabbed his weapons.

"Yes. Let's go!" Dustin said as he climbed out of the trailer.

Along with the bats, Eddie and Dustin raced. Eddie ran as fast as he could and Dustin jumped on his bike.

Eddie ignored all the pain he felt as he kept running. As he got closer, he realized it wasn't a song. It was the same few chords over and over.

And Eddie knew those chords.

Eddie felt even more panic in his chest as he guessed who was playing it. In a selfish way, he hoped it was someone else. It was wrong but he prayed it was someone in the group, and not her.

"WHO IS THAT?" Dustin screamed as he threw down his bike and prepared his weapons.

"It's Y/N," Eddie gulped as his eyes took in the sight of Y/N playing the guitar. She didn't have any protection, simply standing in her normal clothes as she risked herself for everyone stuck in the upside down.

For a second, everything was silent. The guitar stopped. Eddie's eyes caught hers. Both stared at each other as time slowed.

"I FORGIVE YOU!" Y/N screamed, the tears flowed down her cheeks as she threw the guitar to the ground.

"NO!" Eddie screamed, but it was too late. The bats already found her. Her body was taken to the ground as she screamed in horror.

"GET HELP!" Eddie screamed at Dustin, he didn't look back at him. He just ran to her.

He started swinging everywhere, he heard thuds and screeches. Eddie used every ounce of anger and hurt that his body held as motivation to swing the shit out of these blood suckers. The agony screams coming from Y/N's lips made him move faster.

Dustin called for help on the radio, he wasn't going to leave them alone. He quickly joined Eddie and began to swing.

Eddie didn't have time to yell at him, in the moment he was grateful the kid didn't listen to him. Together they cleared the path towards her. Eddie thought he felt the greatest amount of fear, but when her screams stopped he knew he was wrong.

Y/N felt like she finally caught her breath. She gasped as her eyes opened. Bright white lights shined above her that caused her to shut them again.

"Y/N?" She heard a relieved voice say then a warm hand intertwined with hers.

She slowly opened her eyes, a familiar brown eyes looked back at her. He was covered in dirt, blood stained clothes but he still was the prettiest man she'd ever seen.

"Hm, even in heaven you look the same." She said, her voice cracking with every word.

Eddie laughed and grabbed some water. He softly put it against her lips and helped her lift her head to drink.

"Well you haven't made it there yet." Eddie joked. "You had all of us scared."

Y/N looked around the room, but no one else was there. "You are the only one here."

Eddie scratched his head, "they were, but the nurse said only one person at a time, and well I called dibs for six hours." He said as he looked at his watch.

"Why?" She asked, from what she's learned he wanted nothing to do with her.

"I know it's incredibly hard to believe, but I have feelings for you. I know I've been a dick to you and I'm sorry for all the pain I caused. It's pathetic that it took you nearly dying to grow balls and be honest. But before you showed up, I was positive I was going to die. And all I thought about in that moment was how you deserved an apology and that I regretted not taking my chance with you." Eddie confessed. His hands were still in hers as he sat on the chair next to her bed. His eyes were red, and his cheeks were wet.

"It is pathetic, Munson." Y/N snapped, but she kept her hands in his. His touch was warm and soft, a feeling that reminded her she was still alive.

Her heart wanted to hug him and cry. But her head wanted her to keep her pride and tell him to fuck off.

"Did you mean it? When you said you forgave me?" Eddie choked out, sniffling back his tears.

"I prepared to die and I didn't want to ruin your life even more." Y/N confessed, sadness flood through her body as she remembered how worthless she felt because of him. He was the only person in her life that made her feel loved, but hated at the same time. In the end, that was the only experience she had with love and she was okay to die with that in mind because at least it was someone she'd die for.

"You never ruined my life!" Eddie promised, his wet lips kissed her hand as he sobbed. "You are a gift in my life, okay? I've never felt so happy around someone and so alive. I'm an idiot and I made all the wrong decisions. But I swear on my life, I'll make this up to you if you give me a chance. I love you."

Y/N snapped her head as she felt her heart race. The machine gave it away as it beeped.

"You love me?" She whispered, tears flowing down her face as she looked into his eyes.

The Eddie she knew was behind them.

"So damn much. I know I don't deserve anything and I definitely don't deserve you. But I'll do it all right this time. It'll be us and that's all I want."

"Is that why you saved me?" She choked out, she remembered his arms carrying her as he screamed for help. The fear in his eyes and the panic in his voice. He didn't have to come save her, but he did.

"The second I heard those chords, my heart fell out of my chest and my only goal was to get to you before the bats did. I'm very angry with Robin for putting you in that position, but she knew you'd do it to save me. And you deserve someone who'd save you back."

Y/N didn't say anything, she unlaced her hand from Eddie's. He tried to ignore the disappointment he felt.

She sat up slowly then placed her hands on Eddie's cheeks, before he knew it, she leaned in and smashed her lips on his. He felt his stomach flip a thousand times as he reached forward to hold her waist. He kissed her back with everything he had left in him. The kiss tasted of blood and dirt, but it was the best kiss he's ever had.

After a few moments, she pulled away and gasped for air. Eddie leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed as he tried to memorize the feeling of her lips on his.

"I love you too." She whispered, before her lips attached to his again.

Eddie meant everything he said. He was going to prove he was worthy of her and her love.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff #ashwhowrites #popular eddie Munson! x nerd reader!

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gatorbites-imagines · 1 month ago

Text

Kinktober day 18

Wade Wilson + Leather/Latex

Readers a spiderman variant of Last stand Spidey, cuz ive been a spideypool fan for years, and cool jacket. I was listening to NSYNC as I wrote this.

2024 kinktober masterlist.

Wade and Logan had never thought they’d stumble upon a spiderman variant of all things in the void. Deadpools, Gambits, Juggernaut and whoever else they stumbled upon, sure. But Spiderman? Savior of the world in many universes spiderman? With great power comes great responsibility spiderman?

Sure, Wade got one of the worst erections of his life when he watched the Spidey whip out a gum, and just blast the head off some variant of The Shocker. His knees almost buckled, Wade almost cumming right then and there. Seeing a Spidey in those tight pants, leggings? Spandex? And a leather jacket, waving around a gun and using it right? That was going right in the spank bank.

The scrunched up disgusted face Logan had, made it obvious that Wades arousal was strong enough for the mutants’ nose to pick it up. But how couldn’t he be so hard his head was swimming? Especially when that Spidey walked towards them, carrying himself with a confidence that spoke of many years of experience.

Why you helped them, even you didn’t know. Maybe it was some part of you that still wanted to be a hero, to help save the universe or whatever. In your own words, you were the worst Spiderman. You were selfish, violent and ruthless, nothing like the light in the dark Spiderman was meant to be. You had hurt your family and loved ones, and killed people who didn’t deserve it, but no part of you felt bad about it.

Hearing this, Wade almost excused himself to go jerk off again for what had to be the tenth time since you partnered up with them. It wasn’t his fault, okay? Spiderman and Deadpool just go together in most universes, you guys were literally soulmates in most universes. You just happened to be real eye candy.

It was surprisingly easy for Wade to talk you into coming with him to his universe. His universe didn’t have a spiderman, obviously he still knew about Spiderman though, he was Deadpool. Logan came along too, but he started grumbling about Wade being a horndog real fast, especially as you bunked with the two as well as Blind Al and Dogpool.

You found it easier than Logan to become part of this world, since there wasn’t really any memories. For Logan it was harder, with the X-men still being alive and all. But Peter Parker and other spider variants didn’t seem to exist. Youd also spent a long time dealing with your problems, so you were even able to get a job.

Guess where you got a job. The Daily Bugle, of course. You were able to snatch a job as a reporter instead of a photographer like you had in your younger days, and somehow you ended up not only befriending Jameson, but becoming one of his go-to reporters. Probably helped that his wife hadn’t died during that robbery, instead she was just injured real bad, but lived.

With your lucrative, or as lucrative as it could get, job, you found your own apartment and moved out, much to Wades despair. He had just started thinking you two were bonding, especially as you had started cleaning your guns together. Wade had even stopped longing for Vanessa, instead turning his attention towards you. and being Deadpool, Wade flirted up a storm, even making jokes about getting a red wig so he could be your Mary Jane.

And yes, Wade stole your spiderman jacket on the regular. You were working a lot, so you wouldn’t notice, right? You wouldn’t notice it being scrubbed clean after hed squirted all over it as he worked himself into a frenzy, huffing the scent of your sweat, gun oil and blood off the leather, right? Of course you noticed, you weren’t stupid, you just… didn’t feel like there was a reason to stop him.

With your new apartment you got to spend more time and space on your hobbies, which just happened to be guns and photography. You were still a spiderman variant after all. you just happened to focus on more than landscape and spiderman pictures, instead you liked taking more extreme or gorey pictures of the latest rogue or villains work, or whatever else crime that was busted around the city.

Wade would giggle and joke about you being some kinda freak as he ogled the pictures too, before turning his eyes to you once more. Wade hung around your place enough to almost live there himself. He had also bled through your couch multiple times, meaning you had to buy a new one semi-regularly.

You even ignored how hed jerk off on your couch when he though you slept, his noises only muffled by your jacket pressed against his face. Wade was pretty bad at hiding it at this point, with you walking into the living room to see him naked from the waist down, dead asleep with your jacket laid over his head. You had a thing for his suit too, so you never said anything. Plus, it did things to your ego…

It took a couple of months before you decided to be spiderman again, wanting to settle yourself before you got into the waves of it all. Plus, the usual spiderman rogues weren’t around in this universe, which meant you just went around dealing with different gangs or high rank criminals.

The X-men also got your help every now and then, even if you didn’t really count as a mutant, whatever that meant. You just knew you weren’t welcome to join their club. Something about you not being born with your powers, and not having the X-gene, meaning you weren’t technically a mutant. Colossus still invited you over for their grill evenings on Fridays though.

What you and Wade had couldn’t be called a relationship or sorts. You guys didn’t kiss, but he jerked off on your couch huffing your scent and licking the leather of your jacket, and you acted like he didn’t. at some point you even started doing the same with his suit, using the leather to jerk your cock and spilling against the insides.

Over time you both grew more confident, or sloppy depending on who you asked. You both stopped cleaning up your messes, leaving your spend all over the others things, meaning you both had to go around carrying the others scent when the mission called for you in a hurry. Logan always looked downright sick when he caught the scent, his nose scrunched up at the hormones wafting off you both.

This kept up for a longer period of time, with neither of you saying anything. Instead just marking the others things in your spend, hell, you had even rutted together on a rooftop, blaming it on “adrenaline of the mission”. The sound of the leather of your jacket and his suit only made it so much hotter, Wades hands grasping at your hips to pull you against him, voice warbly and high pitched from his excitement.

The one time opened the floodgates. That’s when you learned Wade really loved kisses, he especially loved when you kissed him like he wanted to devour him. Wades mouth was always so sloppy when you kissed, his tongue desperately curling around your own as he groaned and gurgled, his hands running up and down your back with need.

He was always so hot, ready for everything you may offer him. Wade had even started opening himself up and finding a red plug to slide home, ready for the moment you decided to fuck him. Of course, he was most excited when the time came and you bent him over some metal storage container in a warehouse, after your latest shared mission.

Wade was shaking in sheer excitement as you rucked his suit down just enough to free his ass, the mutant mercenary giggling and cooing as he waved his hips from side to side. Looking back at you, Wade was ready to finish right then and there, as he watched you open your suit up just enough to free yourself.

He didn’t even get to make a joke about how he plugged himself up for you, your usual patience running out faster than Wade ran his mouth. God, he loved how hard you fucked him, sing that super strength of yours to leave him feeling raw and used in the best way, Wade louder in the bedroom than he was normally, meaning he was almost howling and wailing with want and need.

His words were a slurred mix of begs for more, and some other mashed together comment about how the readers must love this, and how the author sucked at writing dialogue. Like always, you had no idea what he was talking about, instead just putting your hips into it and fucking him harder like he so clearly wanted.

Being a spider variant meant you had little rest period between orgasms, and you had a lot more energy than Wade. Being as backed up as you were, you also just kept fucking him until Wade was almost limp in your arms, his mask finally off his scarred tear and drool-stained face as he tried and failed to beg for more.

Wades cum was sprayed all over the floor and container hed been bent over, pathetic thin spurts shooting out of his tip as you lifted him like he weighed nothing, moving him like a ragdoll as his voice went raspy from all his moaning.

He was kinda cute like this, so fucked out he struggled to form a single thought or word. Especially when he rubbed his face into your jacket, which you had taken off and laid under his head as a pillow. It was only when there truly was nothing more to milk out of him that you decided it was enough and pulled out, cleaning Wade up to the best of your ability.

It was easy to lift him bridal style, letting Wade nuzzle against you and duck his head under your chin. Youd even put your jacket on him, just so he felt some extra safety as you somehow swung you two back to your apartment. You sure hoped none of the X-men had to check out the warehouse later on, it would be hard to live that down…

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froggibus · 2 years ago

Text

The Three Times You Share A Bed - Leon S Kennedy

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x reader

Genre: fluff, some light angst thrown in towards the end?

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: two times you sleep in leon's bed, and the one time he sleeps in yours

CW: roommate! Leon, kinda friends to lovers?, light angst, abandonment issues, paranoia, fear + insomnia, mentions of zombies, bedsharing, leon has intimacy issues (get therapy challenge)

OMG HAPPY RE4 RELEASE!!! I am SO excited to play once im done work this weekend! Leon looks so damn fine in the gameplay ive seen and i am going FERAL! pls no spoilers for anything new in the game! <3

RE4 remake spoiler free zone!! I have yet to play the remake so there are no spoilers in this!

————

The telltale clicking of a key in the door has you on your feet in seconds, abandoning the plush throw blanket on the couch. Before it even opens, you’re standing on the doormat. You feel a little silly, like a golden retriever waiting for its owner, but the shame is washed away when Leon steps through the door.

It’s been three weeks since you’ve last seen your roommate and best friend, and just as long since you last had company. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of you standing in front of him, the dark circles under his eyes becoming more prominent.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He sighs and drops his backpack on the floor, locking the door behind him.

“How was it?”

You fight the urge to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and inhale his scent, knowing that’s not what friends do. Still, the feeling is there and if he went in for it, you’d reciprocate in a heartbeat.

He opens the fridge and beams at the fully stocked drinks and snacks. He cracks open a can of cider and leans against the counter. “Long,” he admits, “way too long. And my nose is still burning from the smell of rotten flesh.” You crinkle your nose at the thought. Leon’s never been much of a talker and most of his work being classified didn’t help. Whenever something wasn’t top secret, though, you were sure to sit there and listen no matter how horrific the details were.

You settle in on the couch next to the agent, listening to him drone on about a zombie-like creature that had peeling flesh and fifty eyes. You could vividly picture it from his words alone, and the image of the creature sent a shiver up your spine.

Leon talks for hours, spilling every miniscule detail of every horror he encounters. You stay the whole time, nodding along. Leon laughs at the way you scrunch your face in disgust or close your eyes in fear. He hates how cute you are, but he can’t seem to stop telling you stories. After many hours and a few drinks between the two of you, he’s almost run out of stories to tell.

Leon pats your shoulder gently, collecting his cans from where he’d set them on the coffee table. “I need a shower,” he states. “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.”

“Go shower. You stink,” you joke and punch him in the ribs.

He feigns injury at your blow, pretending to suck in a breath like you’d really hurt him. He keeps up the facade the whole way to his bedroom, only leaving character when he shuts the door behind him.

It’s only when he’s disappeared that you realize how late it's gotten—and how dark. Even though your shared apartment is on the 19th floor, you can’t help but worry something is going to crawl through your window. You shake the thoughts away and get ready for bed, but every gust of wind and rustling of leaves makes you flinch.

You close your eyes and tug your comforter over your head, hoping that if there is something out there, it won’t know you’re there. You toss and turn for a while longer, staying dead quiet and pushing your fears away.

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You take a deep breath, throw your comforter off of your shoulders, and sprint to Leon’s room. It’s like your brain is on autopilot—it knows exactly where to go to be safe.

You don’t knock on the door, instead quietly twisting the knob and slipping in through a crack in the door. Leon sits up as soon as your feet touch the wooden floor, eyes snapping towards your silhouette. He’s been a light sleeper ever since Racoon City, waking at the slightest of sounds.

He relaxes at the sight of you but only for a second. He glances at his digital clock, eyes widening at the time. “Y/n? What are you still doing up?”

“I-I couldn’t sleep…I feel like a flesh eating zombie is going to climb through my window and eat me.”

He chuckles. “That would be my fault.” He shuffles over in bed and pulls back the comforter. “You’re more than welcome to stay here for the night.”

You crawl into bed next to him, keeping as much distance between the two of you as possible. You can feel his body heat radiating through the blankets and smell his body wash on his skin. The feeling is new, yet so familiar it eases you instantly.

“Leon?”

He hums in response.

“Is it safer to sleep next to the window or the door? From like, a secret agent standpoint.”

“We’re on the 19th floor so window, but unless it's a hotel room, the door. You would more than likely hear it if they broke down the front door so you’d have more time to get out.”

You think for a second. “Can we switch places?”

“Honestly, y/n,” he laughs dryly, “the safest place to sleep right now is next to me.”

Your face warms at that and you nod, relaxing into his pillows. While you drift off to sleep, Leon watches over you. He knows nothing is going to come for you here, but he did promise to keep you safe, and he’ll keep that promise no matter what.

—

When you get home, you’re in a foul mood. You practically throw the groceries onto the counter before walking to your room and throwing yourself onto your bed. It’s been a long day. All of the stores were so busy you could hardly get through the aisles, and all of the people you encountered were rude.

Leon comes out of his room a few minutes later. Seeing the groceries abandoned on the counter, his first thought is to check on you. He doesn’t check on you, though. Not yet, anyway. He knows you’ll just be more upset if the frozen items melt and the milk sits out all night, so he sets out on putting them away.

After almost an hour of laying in your bed trying to recuperate after the day you’ve had, you’re snapped out of it by a text.

Leon: Come here, I have a surprise for you

You don’t feel like leaving your bed, but you force yourself out of it anyway. It’s not Leon you’re mad at. Leon is probably the only person in the world you don’t hate right now. You knock on his door softly, holding your arms behind your back.

“Come in!” He shouts.

You open the door, shuffling into his room and closing it behind you. Your jaw drops when you see a tray in the middle of his bed piled high with your favorite snacks, drinks and two wine glasses. Leon pats the spot next to him and you’re happy to oblige, relaxing onto the mattress.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

He shrugs, pouring you a glass of wine. “It already seems like you had a bad day, I just wanted to do something to make it a little better for you.”

“Thank you.” He nods in acknowledgement, turning on his tv and handing you the remote. “You can choose the first movie. Just—maybe no zombies?”

You snort at that. Classic Leon, using his corny jokes to make light of even the worst of situations. You settle on an old favorite movie you love, handing the remote back to the blond and switching it for a wine glass.

Between your favorite movie, the delicious wine and your favorite snacks, your spirits are lifted in no time. One movie turns into two, and two turns into three. Soon enough, you’re dozing off in Leon’s bed.

He moves the tray of snacks and the glasses off of the bed to give you more room to sprawl out. Laying down next to you, he watches you sleep. A part of him wishes he could see this every night—the same sight he fantasizes about on even the hardest of missions.

He flicks off the lamp on his side table and settles in. “Good night, cutie,” he mumbles, knowing you’re far too deep in sleep to hear him.

—

You wake up in the middle of the night, moonlight streaming through the window and illuminating Leon’s bedroom. You’re still numb from sleep, your senses dulled just enough that it takes you a minute to realize that something is grabbing you. No, not grabbing—holding.

You blink a few times. Leon is laying next to you, his chest pressed to your back, his arms around your waist. You can feel the slow beating of his heart and the heat coming off of his skin. He’s so close it overwhelms you, yet it’s all you’ve ever wanted.

You think about slipping away but you know what a light sleeper he is, and you don’t think you could handle it if he woke up and saw how close you were. You close your eyes and try to calm the beating in your heart so you can fall back asleep.

When you wake up again, Leon is gone. Your body feels cold where his once was. You sit up—is he showering? He can’t be, the bathroom door is open. You sit up, letting the blankets fall off of you. You swing your legs over the side of his bed, walking out to the kitchen, but he’s not there either.

Did he leave to go get something?

You check your phone, expecting to see a text saying he ran out to go get more milk or something, but there’s nothing. You sigh, typing up a message and sending it to him.

Y/N: where’d you go?

You practically jump when your phone lets out a noise, but your heart sinks when you see what it is.

Message Not Delivered. Try Again?

You sigh. That can only mean one thing: he’s on another mission. Typical Leon, disappearing in the middle of the night to go god knows where for god knows how long. The frustration bubbles up in your chest and you feel like hitting something, but you don’t. It’s not worth it.

You try to keep your mind off of his sudden disappearance by throwing yourself into chores. You wash his bedding and make his bed, then wash your own. You sweep and mop the floors and vacuum the carpets. You dust the blinds.

It doesn’t help.

Your mind keeps wandering back to the fact that he left without saying goodbye. That he woke up at some ungodly hour, saw you laying in his arms, got up and left without another word. He didn’t even leave a note. He really cares that little.

You shake your head and even though the pit in your stomach makes you feel like not eating, you make yourself a sandwich regardless. Seeing the untouched groceries in the fridge just adds to the feeling.

Even though you know he’s not going to get it, you pull out your phone and start typing.

Y/N: do you at least know when you’ll be back?

Message Not Delivered. Try Again?

The message makes you roll your eyes. Leon fucking Kennedy.

—

A week goes by, and then two, and you still hear nothing from your roommate. You send texts here and there, hoping for an answer, but none of them go through. Eventually, you start venting to him through there, too. Expressing how frustrated you are that he didn’t say goodbye, how annoying your feelings are, how sometimes you wish you didn’t know him so you didn’t have to go through this.

It’s a random Sunday night when you’re sitting on the couch, watching trash reality tv and eating snacks. It’s cold in the apartment, but you can’t be bothered to turn on the heat. Only when your arms puff up with goosebumps do you scour the room for a sweater, settling on a random one hanging on the back of a chair.

It’s Leon’s, an old one from the Police Academy. His smell floods your nose when you pull it over your head, and it's so bittersweet you don’t know if you should laugh or cry. You settle back on the couch, but a rustling at the window makes you freeze in your tracks.

It stops for a moment, and you can almost convince yourself you’ve imagined it or it’s a part of the show—until it happens again. You scramble for the remote, pausing it so you can hear better. The noise starts again, and you waste no time in hightailing it to your bedroom and slamming the door behind you.

You flop onto your bed, trying (and failing) to remind yourself that it’s just the wind. That you’re safe here. But it’s hard when it’s late and you’re tired and you’re alone and the only person you feel safe with just abandoned you.

You curl up into a ball, pulling Leon’s sweater over your mouth and inhaling the familiar scent. It’s enough to calm you down, if only for a few moments. If you close your eyes, you can almost trick yourself into thinking he’s there, and for now, that’s good enough.

—

Leon knows he fucked up when he gets back to the country and turns on his phone. Almost fifty messages from you, each one more sad than the last. He wants to slap himself—why couldn’t he just grow a pair and say goodbye? Why did he have to be so noncommittal?

He reads every message on the cab ride back to the apartment, and his heart breaks for you. He didn’t think about how you would drive yourself crazy over him or how worried you must have been. All he thought about was getting the call for the mission in the middle of the night and not wanting to wake you up.

But he didn’t abandon you. He thought about you every day and god—he wishes he could have talked to you. Hearing your voice and seeing your face was enough to make everything better. With the horrors he’s seen lately, all he wants is to be back in that bed with you for one more night.

He’s quiet coming into the apartment, hoping he doesn’t wake you up or scare you. And even though he knows you’re sleeping, he’s still disappointed you’re not waiting at the door for him.

He tosses his backpack into his room and strips off all of his holsters and velcro. He’s quiet walking down the hallway to your room and even quieter opening the door. He relaxes at the sight of you curled up in a ball.

You look so cute and so peaceful and—is that his sweater? The sight brings a smile to his face. He closes the door behind him with a soft click, climbing into the bed next to you.

You wake up when the bed dips down and arms wrap around you. You’re so tired you don’t even care who or what it is.

“If you’re gonna kill me, can you at least let me sleep first?” You mumble.

You fully awake as soon as you hear Leon’s laugh.

“You’re back?” You say, and you hate the way your voice cracks.

You turn around to face him, tired ocean eyes meeting yours. He nods sleepily, “‘m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. It was stupid of me.”

“It’s okay,” and it really is okay. All the resentment you felt melted away at the sight of him.

“C’mere,” he mumbles.

You lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around him. You can hear his heart rate slow down at the contact.

“I just—I just need you tonight.” Those are big words coming from the agent, and they leave you completely stunned. He must have seen or done something horrible while he was away for him to be this vulnerable, even with you.

“You can have me tonight.” You try to keep your voice even, “you can have me whenever you need me,”

He kisses the top of your head. “But I always need you.”

“Then I’m always yours.”

Neither of you speak after that, Leon falling into a light sleep. You stay up a while longer, watching the blond boy rest beneath you. He looks so fragile like this, you can’t imagine him fighting off monsters and handling weapons. You kiss his collarbone through his shirt and let yourself fall asleep with him.

#resident evil angst #resident evil fluff #resident evil #re4 leon #resident evil 4 #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #x you #x reader

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declareqenius · 8 months ago

Text

all the ashes in my wake

summary: part two of "some would sing and some would scream". wanda and natasha have several heated conversations while they wait for you to wake up. it's been days and both of them miss hearing your voice, and they know the last thing you would want to see is them fighting, but wanda can't help tearing into natasha for everything that happened. natasha's guilt eats away at her.

warnings: mentions of the violence in pt 1, coma

a/n: guys i really just wanted to get this one out. i haven't read through it/edited it so any mistakes are... well, mistakes. but hey! we get wanda in this one! i feel like i could have gone a little darker as far as wandanat are concerned, but we do what we can! i hope you enjoy!

The infirmary room is cold and sterile and a heaviness settles over the exhausted woman. Wanda keeps hold of your hand as if letting it go means that you'll slip away for good. She's careful of the IV stuck in the back of your hand giving you fluids. In a way, it serves as a reminder that blood still flows through your veins and your heart still beats, and that even though your bright smile and musical laugh don't fill the room, you're still alive.

Wanda brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. She doesn't know how many times she has done that in the past three days, but the gesture comforts her. Tucking your hair behind your ear so she can see your beautiful face better and looking into your sparkling eyes is one of her favorite things to do. Your gaze holds so much love and adoration and it always makes her wish she would never have to live without it.

Your eyes are closed now.

Wanda hates every second of it.

Bruce said that even if you don't respond that you can still hear everything. Wanda trusts that he's telling the truth and it wasn't something he said just to make her feel better.

So she talks to you. About anything and everything she can think of. Your favorite TV show that is on the air right now or the book that you recommended and she finally read. How much she loves you and how she can't wait for you to wake up. How sorry she is that she wasn't there sooner. She makes promises that she intends to uphold. Ones about revenge and torture and everything you would hate and tell her not to worry about were you conscious. Wanda smiles at the thought. She won't listen, though. The Celestials hurt her family. Hurt the love of her life. She can't let that go unanswered for.

Right now, though, you are her priority.

The door handle clicks and Wanda doesn't need to look up. She knows it's Natasha coming back from telling Steve and Yelena what happened. Can feel the exhaustion and guilt dripping from her without having to so much as glance in her direction.

"Wands-"

"I don't want to talk to you right now, Natalia. Sit."

Wanda nods to the unoccupied chair on the other side of the bed without taking her eyes off of you. She's being harsh and she knows it. Natasha was there with you. Right by your side. Made to watch as the leader of their enemies hurt you in the most sloppily calculated way. She was powerless against Najma and Wanda knows this, but all rationality left her when she burst into the cell and laid eyes on your bleeding body, slumped over, barely an ounce of life in you, and her anger nearly consumed her.

She almost leveled the entire block.

The only thing that stopped her was Natasha, carrying you in her arms, reminding her that time was scarce.

So yes, perhaps she is being too harsh with her wife, but somehow you had become their entire lives. Their reason for being. Neither of them would know what to do without you, and they came very close to losing you under Natasha's watch.

They will be okay eventually. They survived many fights and many arguments before you came along.

Tears form in Wanda's eyes.

"Yelena is wondering when she'll be able to see Y/N." Natasha's voice breaks the silence. It's rough and scratchy.

"After she wakes up."

Four words and Wanda can feel how they form on her tongue. Her Sokovian accent is thick with her anger and distress despite the words being spoken soft and firm.

"Wanda," Natasha starts to protest but the finality in her wife's tone makes her go quite.

"Nat."

It's then that Wanda decides to look up at Natasha. Decides to let her wife see her and every emotion that makes its way onto her face and every thought that swirls around in her mind.

Natasha pauses for a moment, taken aback by everything she sees her wife going through. The made-up scenarios. The what-ifs. She knows because she went through every last one of them when she was in that cell with you. To see the same thoughts cluttering Wanda's mind, well, it only makes her guilt worse.

She clears her throat, "Yelena is her best friend."

It comes out as more of a fact than an argument.

At that, Wanda turns her attention back to you, "I don't want anyone except for us and Bruce to see her like this. They don't need to."

"They want to know that she's okay, Wands."

"Tell them that she is. That she will be. That's all they need to know for right now. They need to focus on getting the jump on Najma and the Celestials. Our focus is Y/N. I think our family is capable enough to come up with a plan by themselves, don't you?"

Wanda's calmness is starting to make Natasha uncomfortable and she shifts in her chair. She refuses to touch you, though, afraid of what might happen if she did. Would your body crumble under her fingertips? If you were conscious would your body recoil at her touch? For letting you get hurt. For not protecting you like she should have.

Suddenly streams of tears silently make their way down Natasha's cheeks.

"I'm sorry I let this happen."

Wanda's eyes meet hers again and Natasha feels like she can breathe a little easier. It isn't perfect and she guesses it won't be perfect for a long time, but time will help. The fear will linger within both of them because Natasha knows Wanda almost as well as she knows herself, and she knows that neither of them will be letting you out of their sight for a while after you wake up. Until Najma is taken care of, at least.

Wanda tilts her head as she tries to get a better read on Natasha without using her powers. Even if they would help in the moment she has rules for herself: never on Natasha and never on you.

"They caught you off guard. It is a hard position to be in, radnaja."

Darling. The pet name helps Natasha relax a little more, but her hands stay folded in her lap.

"We needed- I needed to protect her better. We promised to keep her safe and I couldn't do that, Wands. I failed her and I disappointed you and... and what if she decides to leave when she wakes up? I would be the reason we came so close to losing her... and then to actually lose her? I don't know if we could survive it."

"Nat... Y/N loves us with everything she is. Just as we love her. I need you to be confident in that."

Natasha wants to scoff but instead she fidgets with her hands, "Confident? In what, Wanda? That she'll wake up and we'll pretend everything is fine and that we're not the reason she almost fucking died?! That the two people she loves most in the world couldn't protect her like they promised they would? I was powerless Wanda! I couldn't stop them! I-" Natasha's tears flow freely and although the tension in the room is building, she feels safe enough to let herself go in the presence of her wife, "I couldn't save her!"

"Natalia Romanova-Maximoff!" Wanda stands for the first time in hours but she does not drop your hand. It's the only thing grounding her right now. "This is not entirely your fault, radnaja. Maybe if you would have kicked and punched more when they took you then we would be in a different position. Maybe if you had given Najma the answers she was looking for then Y/N wouldn't have been injured as badly as she is but these are all what-ifs, Natasha! What if I had been there with her instead? What if I had been with both of you that night? What if I would have gotten to you sooner? What if she had died!"

Finally, the question that has been on both of their minds since Bruce had walked into the meeting room with your blood all over his neatly ironed button up and jeans- he didn't have time to even think about putting his lab coat on- and told them that you would eventually be okay.

"I have been asking myself that question every day for the past three days," Wanda finishes, salt on her tongue, nose red, and her scarlet hoodie stained with tears.

Natasha cannot find it within herself to tell her wife the new information Bruce gave her in the meeting. While he operated and stitched until he could barely stand any longer; you flatlined once. Your heart decided to give up for a minute and Natasha hasn't had the proper amount of time to process something like that, but the time would never come for Wanda to be able to process the reality of such a thing.

Both women stare down at you with puffy eyes and red noses. You are the most precious thing in the world to them. They hate seeing you so lifeless, and the only wave of hope keeping them afloat is your steady breaths.

The fight has left both of them, but an air of tension remains. They are nowhere near finished with their conversation. With taking their frustrations out. Hopefully they'll have everything figured out before you wake up. Natasha knows how much you hate playing peacemaker when they actually have fights and really get going at each other, but she also knows that her wife can hold a grudge.

She doesn't think Wanda will actually hold a grudge after you wake up, but for now her anger and grief towards Natasha are the only things emotionally anchoring her to reality.

"I miss her, Wands," Natasha sniffs and wipes the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Me too, Natalia. Me too."

They sit in silence for a minute, taking everything in. There are no windows in the room and during the day that means zero sunlight. You always say that time in the sun is one of the most important parts of your daily routine, and it always helps you cool down when you're stressed out or in a bad mood.

Natasha is the first to break the silence, speaking directly to you.

"You are going to hate this room so much when you wake up, detka," she muses with the smallest smile.

Wanda only glances at her before turning her attention back to you and sitting down in her chair, trapped in her mind just as Natasha is, but not all hope is lost and for that, the older woman is grateful.

"Believe it or not, she was the calm one. During everything."

"Natasha."

Her name is said softly although there is still a warning behind it, but she needs this and she believes that Wanda does too. Even if she doesn't know it yet.

"Please, Wanda."

Wanda just sighs and nods, never taking her eyes off of you.

"Najma had me struggling within ten minutes. Begged her to take me instead and to let Y/N go. I don't know why I thought it would work, but I think I just wanted Y/N to know that even if I couldn't get us out of there in that moment... I was trying. I would keep trying."

Natasha's voice is still scratchy as her exhaustion slowly catches up with her.

"Y/N was so firm with me. She said not to tell Najma anything and she meant it. I don't think I've ever heard her be that direct before, but she left no room for argument. She knew what the information would do to the family because she... she sees us as her family, Wands." The redhead sniffs and wipes at her eyes when her tears return, making a prominent trail down her cheeks.

"We are all she has left and she means the world to us! And... and I let her down so much. So, so much, Wanda. She stayed so calm! She did so good! She talked to Najma. She had a conversation with the woman who had a knife to her cheek!" Natasha's laugh is reserved, but her features are shock-ridden and amazed, bordering on flabbergasted and anxiety-filled.

Wanda finally looks up at her wife. Natasha is starting to spiral and there is no way to stop it other than just letting her get it all out, so the Sokovian keeps listening to and watching her wife. The recount of events is told with animated hand gestures and tears gliding down Natasha's cheeks, and Wanda's heart clenches.

"We were doing so well. She was doing so well. Then, Najma stabbed her and my heart dropped. I thought it was over. I thought we had lost her for good." The hand gestures come to an abrupt halt and the tension in the room is once again palpable, but not so much as before.

Natasha looks down at you with pleading eyes, "Please forgive me, malyshka," she drops to both knees and finally takes your hand in hers and whispers, "please."

She kisses the back of your hand delicately and you can feel each tear drop as they land in the exact spot she kissed. There is no need to wonder why your girlfriend is crying. You remember everything.

Your eyes slowly blink open to see Natasha's own eyes closed and Wanda staring at her wife with a thoughtful expression. The love they have for each other makes you want to smile, but the urge to reassure your sobbing mob boss girlfriend wins.

"I..." talking hurts but you need to say the words. Natasha needs to know! "Forgive... you. Always... Natty."

#wandanat x reader #some would sing and some would scream #some of you might be mad about the ending #HOWEVER #nat needed that so badly guys #reader will play peacemaker eventually i promise

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icallhimjoey · 10 days ago

Text

Almost, Always

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Happy endings aren't for everyone, so it seems, but that doesn't mean that you can't stop trying for one. Question is, are you actually star-crossed lovers that can figure something out, or just absolutely blind to reality and really fucking stupid?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, smut, cheating

Author’s note: part four! are we learning from our previous mistakes? TAKE A WILD GUESS! after this, have one more chapter to go, and i know ive been consistently posting every week, but im afraid that the last part is going to take me a whole extra week to finish (bc ill be out of the country for a sec) so, my apologies! but i hope this long chapter makes up for the extra wait! <3

Wordcount: 6.5K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

“I didn’t say he doesn’t… I just said, he has never actually said it.”

Emily’s jaw dropped, and you immediately regretted saying what you just said.

“No, stop. He has said it. Forget I said anything. It’s fine.”

You knew exactly what she was going to say.

She’d alluded to it from the start. Rolled her eyes at him. Made faces of outrageous confusion that told you, how can someone behave like that, without having to say the words aloud. Without making you hear them.

“I’m just saying…” Emily started, and showed you a facial expression that made you feel stupid for even bringing it up.

“It’d be better for you to leave him.”

You laughed, like she made a joke, yet so aware that she absolutely wasn’t.

But listen, if you didn’t laugh, you’d cry, because you knew, you knew somewhere in the back of your mind that it probably was better for you to leave him.

Not a truth you wanted to face though.

There were still too many easy excuses for you to make.

So... you made them.

But Emily’s face remained quite serious.

“Emily. You don’t mean that.” You said on the back-end of a giggle.

“Are you joking? My God, it’d be so much better if you left him. Better for you, better for, well, me. Can’t even tell you he loves you? What is he on?!”

You shushed her, and looked over your shoulder in the general direction of your bathroom and listened for a few seconds. The shower was still going. He couldn’t have heard her.

Good.

Not that Emily’s general opinion was a huge secret. But still. It was nice if the peace could be kept for the night.

“He does tell me that.” you argued, much softer. “Just...”

“Just does it when he’s about to hang up the phone? Just a quick, casual, love ya, when he’s saying goodbye?”

“Well, he–”

“Or does he only say it when he’s about to come?”

“Emily.”

“Oh, God. You’re so beyond help, I don’t even know what to tell you anymore.”

For a moment, you avoided eye-contact. Pressed your lips together and looked around the room whilst your friend tried her best to get it into your head that Joe really just wasn’t it.

“You know you’re in second place.” Emily said, suddenly much more earnestly. “You don’t deserve to be in second place.”

Which was a nice sentiment. A thing a best friend was meant to tell you. A bit like a parent calling their baby a genius because they accidentally made a bit of babbling sound like a real string of words.

“Well,” you said, taking a deep breath in and giving Emily your best smile. “So is he, so I guess we’re even.”

He wasn’t.

These were two different leagues.

But suggesting that Emily was in first place with you was the quickest way to make her feel appreciated even though her advice went untaken.

It always did.

Emily was a good friend and always gave excellent advice. And you were a good friend because you always listened to what she had to say. Or, you thought you did. Would tell yourself you did.

But then you simply wouldn’t follow any of it.

You hadn’t taken her advice when she’d told you to stop fucking around in a fourteen month situationship.

“I like how this just… works, don’t you?” Joe had said one evening when you were wrapped up on his sofa together. You’d made a comment that someone had flirted with you and had asked if you were single. You hadn’t known what to tell them.

Joe had just shrugged then.

“Let’s not push for something if it doesn’t need it. Something not broken doesn’t need a fix, does it?”

And you’d disagreed then. Had hoped that he’d grow a little protective and would’ve gone, um what do you mean of course you’re not single. For a while you also hadn’t wanted to define anything, because fuck commitment, right? But it had been over a year and Emily said that you should ask him to just fucking label it already.

You hadn’t.

You also hadn’t taken Emily’s advice when she’d told you that she thought this guy wasn’t going to make you happy.

Hadn’t taken Emily’s advice when she’d told you that she thought this guy was ultimately just there for a bit of fun, but not really much else.

Hadn’t taken Emily’s advice when she’d told you to just leave him already when you told her he had never sincerely told you that he loves you.

“I know you’re smart enough to know that it’s absolutely wild that he’s not said–”

“It’s because you just hear all the bad things, I’m sorry. I should also tell you about the good shit.”

“Oh, yea? Like what?” Emily challenged, and in the silence that followed, you heard the shower turn off.

“Like... look! Look what he got me!” you said, picking up a bag from a dining table chair.

Your friend looked at it for a moment, blank faced, and then narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

“Got you? Like, he went out and bought that for you? Or, was that sent to him by the brand, and he just passed it on?”

You looked at the bag you were still holding, then gave a small shrug. “I don’t know. He still gave it to me.”

It was a nice bag.

“Not exactly the same is it.”

No, it wasn’t. But... you know. You could pretend it was.

“Still counts.”

“Okay. If you think so.”

You didn’t think so, not after what Emily had just said, but you were willing to accept it for the nice gesture, and that was all you cared about. Or, what you told yourself was all you cared about.

“I think so.” You definitively told Emily, breaking into a smile to really sell it.

Just when she was about to roll her eyes at you and maybe try her hand at talking a little more sense into you, Joe called you from the bathroom.

You left Emily on her own for about a minute before joining her again.

“Okay. Let’s go. He’s not coming.” You grabbed your coat and found your bag. The one Joe had given to you, but hadn’t spent a penny on.

“He’s– what?”

“He thought of something that still needs doing. He’s not coming.”

Emily stared at you from where she was sat, watching you hurriedly wrestle your arms into the sleeves of your coat as she slowly caught up to speed.

“So, I’m sorry, but have we just waited for him for ages for fucking nothing then?”

You ignored her tone, finding your phone, your keys, and then Emily’s coat as well.

“Let’s go. If we hurry, we might beat the rain.”

You chucked Emily her coat, and she almost didn’t move her arms in time to catch it. With the front door already open, you gestured for Emily to make her way through, calling, “Bye! We’re off!” into the flat.

Emily, under her breath, very mockingly sing-songed, “Love you!” in that same tone as she walked past you, making her point once more.

You didn’t repeat her, but instead rolled your eyes at what you decided was a joke, and then loudly said, “Don’t wait up!”

You didn’t wait for Joe to answer before you slammed the door shut.

It’s been weeks.

Months, technically, although it doesn’t feel it.

“Please be home, please be home, please be home,” you mutter to yourself as you rush your way down his street. “Please be in the fucking country, for just this fucking once…”

You’d texted and had gotten no coloured ticks from him. So then you’d called, but it just rang for ages before you were eventually sent to voicemail, and that’s something you don’t do. Especially not now. Not about this. Hell would have to freeze over before you’d leave a voicemail message. You could delete a text thread, or a voice note. But, a voicemail? Once a voicemail sends out, there is no undoing that.

Maybe you’re crazy, but what you’re doing now feels safer.

It’s after midnight, dark, the streets wet from earlier rainfall, but you feel wide awake. You’ve got Emily’s words ringing in your ears still, and you’ve not been able to shake them yet.

Her advice.

Or, well, it was more just her opinion. She had expertly dressed it up as a fact, though, which is probably why that one sentence still held you in a vice grip.

Telling her about how you’d had a few… moments, with Joe, since you’d broken up with him, turns out, was the wrong thing to do.

You just really wanted to tell her about the wine.

The expensive bottle you’d satisfyingly dunked into his kitchen sink.

It’s been weeks by now, but you still think about that all the time. And every time that you do, you feel pure glee spark inside of you.

You thought she’d be the same.

You thought she’d absolutely love it.

But then, after you had told her all about that night, she’d just looked at you with so much disdain and disappointment, it startled you into rambling excuses, none of which sounded true to your own ears, let alone hers. She then had shook her head, and sort of muttered something to herself that you asked her to repeat.

It’s those words that haven’t left the forefront of your mind since.

You didn’t ask Emily to clarify herself. You hadn’t gotten into an argument, either. You had just… moved onto a different topic. A lighter, easier to digest thing to talk about.

It left those words to rein freely, left those words at liberty to inflate themselves until they were all you could think about, and the feeling had clawed at your chest for the rest of the day. The rest of the night.

You hadn’t been able to answer the question, what’s wrong, that you were repeatedly asked until it made you upset.

“Nothing’s wrong! Stop asking me what’s wrong! God! You asking me what’s wrong a million times a minute is what’s wrong!”

Something is wrong though.

Obviously.

You just left someone in your bed for this.

Ringing Joe’s doorbell is a quick action, fingers pressing that familiar button before you can have any doubt of what you’re doing. It takes longer than a few seconds before you hear a small beep.

“Joe? I texted you, can you reply to my text?”

A silence follows, and for a moment you think maybe the intercom doesn’t work properly, or maybe he just hadn’t heard you.

“I– I sent you a message, check your phone–”

A loud click of the door unlocking and a loud shrill buzzing sound interrupts you.

“No you don’t have to– just text me back, will you?”

No answer follows, but the loud buzzing persists. After a few more seconds of it, you know Joe’s just holding down the button until you go inside.

That wasn’t the plan.

With a frustrated grumbling sigh, swearing under your breath, you push yourself into Joe’s building and make your way to his front door.

In the lift you decide you won’t let the doors close properly when they’ll open on Joe’s floor. You’ll tell him from half inside the lift that he just needs to check his phone.

You just want an answer.

But then the lift doors open and one foot steps out as you lean into the hallway, expecting to see Joe waiting by his front door, yet he isn’t.

You make an angry face, nose pulling up and showing your clenched teeth with a frown. You’re in a building where people are asleep so you can’t make any noise, but you absolutely would have otherwise. Joe leaves you no other choice but to get out of the lift, and begrudgingly, you make your way over to his doormat.

When you get closer, you can see how the door’s been left open.

“Hey,” you whisper-yell into the flat, “Joe?”

You get no answer, and take a few careful steps inside to find him standing in his kitchen in a T-shirt and a pair of boxer-briefs. He’s got his back turned to you, and is seemingly busy cleaning up mess he’s left out from dinner.

It’s the fucking middle of the night.

It’s dark in Joe’s flat, the only light in the room coming from his under cabinet LEDs, and it’s weirdly warm for the time of night, you think.

“Hey, I–” you start, voice low because it’s late, but you quickly get cut off by Joe.

“Did you close the door?”

You blink a few times and watch Joe very carefully load some things into his dishwasher, making little to no noise at all. No plates softly clashing, no rattling cutlery.

“What? No. I–”

“Will you close the door, please?” Joe asks, but it sounds like a demand. Sort of cold, a little detached.

“All I’m here to say,” you try again. “Is that I want you to check your phone...”

Joe stands up straight and finally looks at you. Whilst maintaining eye-contact he slowly closes the dishwasher until it latches, machine clicking shut, and when he then just... keeps staring at you, you throw your head back like an annoyed teenager, and reluctantly do as you’re told.

You go to close his front door.

In the kitchen you hear the tap go, and when you join Joe there again, you can see how he’s filling up a glass with water.

Joe is about to take a sip when he suddenly decides against it and lowers the glass.

“Water?” he then asks, and holds it out to you with a stretched arm.

You’re slightly confused, but you take it, and then watch Joe reach for another glass from a cabinet and fill that one for himself.

“Thanks, but…” you place the glass on his counter and hold two hands up to Joe. “I’m just here because I need an answer to a text.”

Joe, with his mouth in his own glass, sort of looks at you a moment as he gulps water down.

He looks tired.

Which, yea, that checks out.

You fucking woke him up, didn’t you?

There’s so many reasons to declare yourself clinically insane right now, but you’re holding onto the notion that this is actually all totally normal with all of your might. If you pretend to believe it, you might just be able to trick Joe into it as well.

But Joe just looks at you like he’s waiting for you to give the real reason of why you’re there.

“So, if you could just, check that. Answer it. That’d be great.” You force a polite smile and step back. “That’ll be all.” And you turn to leave again.

“You’ve been crying.” Joe stops you in your tracks.

You turn back to him.

“No. Well, yea I was, but that’s not– I’m fine, that was about something else, not this. You don’t have to– stop, I’m going to go, please... respond to my message. I’ll read it when I get in, and that’ll be that.”

“Wait.”

Joe picks up the glass of water you’ve just put down and gives it back to you. When it’s in your hands, he even gives it a little push upward to ensure that you have a sip.

“I’ll go get my phone.”

And he’s so calm and agreeable that it feels rude to do anything else but take a sip and wait for him. You watch Joe walk out of the room to go get his phone, and it’s a lot of opening and closing doors, everything done as quietly as humanly possible. Then, you suddenly notice how hot you feel in your coat. It’s really fucking warm in here.

That’s new.

That’s... weird.

When Joe comes back, he closes the door behind him again and looks at his phone as he unlocks it.

“Why did you call me?”

“Just–”

“I’ll read the text.”

In silence, you stand and watch Joe open his texts and read your message. Messages. There’s several. Then, he starts typing back, and, this is what you came here for, but now that you’re standing in Joe’s kitchen in the middle of the night, having pulled him out of bed for this, you almost want to tell him he’s being an idiot. He can just as easily answer your question in person.

His message sends, and your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Joe places his down and gives you a tired stare.

“Yea, okay. Th-thanks.”

“Read it.”

It startles you.

“No, that’s…” You’re so stupid. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave. I shouldn’t have come.”

“Read your message.”

You feel like a fucking child that’s being scolded by a parent.

Guilt.

Regret.

Self-inflicted, which makes all of it so much worse.

Every feeling sits dark and sticky and bitterly uncomfortable in your gut, clinging to all the edges, stretching longer until the shadows overtake all of the previous excuses you had for being here.

You shouldn’t have come.

You shouldn’t have gone to wake up Joe over something so insignificant and, well, dumb. It’s embarrassing, and you want to leave.

“You’re here now. I’m up. Read your message.”

You inhale deeply. Hold it there for a moment.

He’s right.

The damage has been done.

You’ve dipped a toe into this strange pond, and now you might as well canon ball yourself right into this uncomfortable mess, no matter how cold the water might be.

The only way out seems through.

You pull your phone from your pocket with a clammy hand, and fucking damn it, you’re sweating underneath all of your layers.

“I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t have woken you up.”

Joe just lets his eyes drop to your phone before he looks right at you again, his very stance issuing the orders.

Read the fucking text.

You see the notification and open your phone with face ID. Your own messages to Joe catch your attention first, before you see his reply.

“Were we as good as we’re going to get?”

“What we were together”

“Was that really as good as it can get?”

“Ever?”

You didn’t have to send the same question in various different ways, but that’s what had happened.

Emily’s reaction to the stand alone get-togethers you’d participated in with Joe hadn’t been what you’d expected. You’d hoped for a level of girl power encouragement. For a loud get it girl, or a, yea babe get what you want.

Instead, you’d gotten a sigh and shake of her head, followed by a soberly mumbled, “You really do deserve each other…” that you’d asked her to repeat.

Before she’d always said that Joe didn’t deserve you. That was always the point she tried to get across. The idea she tried to sear into your brain. Joe was beneath you, and you were far above. Always.

And then suddenly, now you are no longer too good for him?

Suddenly you’re on equal footing, and you deserve each other.

What the fuck.

You look at your own messages and realise in that very second that you have no idea what kind of answer you are after from Joe. This isn’t a coin toss situation where you know what side you want that coin to land on the moment it get’s thrown into the air. Fear strikes you lightning fast. No matter what Joe is going to tell you, it’s going to be wrong.

What the fuck are you doing at Joe’s flat?

And why is it so fucking hot in here?

The only way out is through.

You read Joe’s text.

“Darling it’s late, let’s not do this over text”

A non-answer.

You look up at Joe, who is now leaning against his kitchen counter, legs crossed at the ankles, arms crossed over his chest. His head tilts to the side a little and neither of you speak.

It’s oddly unexpected that the guy in his underwear exudes more confidence than the girl bundled up in heavy layers of clothing.

You frown and read the message again.

For a second you debate what to do next. What to say. If this is going to be the end of this interaction, or if it’s going to be just the beginning.

It’s late, though.

You inhale deeply. Slowly.

Then, resign.

“Okay.”

Because honestly, what were you really even expecting from him?

Your soft little defeated okay isn’t what Joe expected though, you can see it in the minor change on his face. The eyebrows that quirk up slightly, his jaw that loosens, the eyes that round out...

“I’ll um...” you say softly, letting your phone sink back into a pocket before pulling at your sleeves to let them cover both hands.

Joe steps forward and bends to look at the clock on the oven behind him before he says, “Well. Since you’re here. Might as well.”

He gestures an arm at his dining table. At one of his chairs. It’s hard, but you do your best to ignore the memories of the last time you were there, sat in one of these chairs. Well, technically, you hadn’t sat in one of the chairs... Joe had sat on one of the chairs and you–

“Am I going to get an explanation of what’s going on?” Joe asks as he pulls out a chair for you.

Finally, you remove your coat.

“It’s a long story.” You say, then think for a moment and add, “No it’s not, actually. Emily said–”

“Ah. Emily.” Joe sits down in a chair opposite. “How is Emily doing?”

“Shut up. She’s fine.” You exclaim, voice a little raised in defense, and you’re immediately shushed by Joe. He holds up a hand as he perks up, and you get the message, lowering your tone as you add, “This isn’t about her.”

“It’s not?”

“No. She just said something. I…” you trail off for a second.

Your head’s a scrambled mess of doubt and insecurities and it doesn’t help that all you’ve done in the past few hours is overthink every single thought that’s popped into your brain. It’s a bit of a journey to retrace your steps and go back to the start of all of this.

“We were talking, and suddenly she... she said something and I’m just… I wanted to know if you think that… if you think what I texted you is true.”

“You just… wanted to know… if I think…” Joe narrows his eyes up at the ceiling as he thinks, slowly repeating your words.

It’s condescending.

Patronising.

Joe’s making fun of you.

“All right, be fucking honest or–”

“No, no. I’m sorry. Sorry. It’s nearly two in the fucking morning,” two already big eyes comically enlargen, but don’t make you laugh. Wrong audience. “But, yea, you’re right. Honest. I’ll be honest.”

You take a deep breath in preparation of what he’s about to say.

Were we as good as we’re going to get?

“Imposing question, though.”

Yea, you’re aware. It’s why you hadn’t been able to sleep and had eventually decided to just get up and out of bed, leave the boy you had in there on his own, and make your way over to Joe’s.

“I don’t know.”

Wild how you feel about five inches tall whilst simultaneously feeling like you’re taking up too much space in the room.

“You don’t know.”

Typical.

“Well. No, I… was it as good, wait, what was it?” Joe looks past you and sees that he’s left his phone on the counter. “Was it as good as it could be?”

You exhale through flared nostrils, frustration forcing your eyes shut for a moment.

“Were we as good as it’s ever going to get for us?”

“Were we as good as it’s ever going to get... I mean, I think so? I– But–... you tell me. Were we?”

And Joe’s right. It is late. You have spent hours thinking that question over, and you couldn’t answer it when you weren’t as tired as you are now, so it’s useless to even try at this hour.

You shrug, and for a moment, it’s quiet. You don’t know how to go about leaving now. You came here for something you aren’t going to get and so, fucking now what?

“Why um... why have you been crying?”

“Oh, I...” your fingers find your sleeve to rub. “I was asked why I couldn’t sleep, and I... well, I couldn’t really explain, so...”

Joe frowns in confusion, not understanding.

“I don’t know, you try listening to someone say shit like, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong I can’t help you, fifty times in a row, and try not to fucking snap.”

They’d been tears of angry frustration, mostly with yourself, and they’d actually surprised you. You hadn’t expected to cry, but, you felt hurt by words your best friend said to you, so you guess that does add up, actually.

Something slowly dawns on Joe before he then leans back in his chair and nods, scrunching his nose, and he whispers, “Jasper.”

“Jasper.” you confirm, and it makes you chuckle a little before a yawn breaks it up.

Joe watches you. Lets his eyes take you in. It’s the middle of the night and you’re very clearly going through something, but he hasn’t got the answers to the questions you’re asking him, and he hates it.

Wishes he could help.

Wishes the questions you wanted answers to weren’t so impossible.

Joe watches you yawn. Watches your eyes blink slowly as you stare into space for a moment. It’s so quiet, he can hear his clock tick on the other side of the room. Then suddenly, you smile.

“I told Emily about the wine... about how I was a complete bitch and poured that bottle right down your drain.”

And Joe can’t help but feel more amused at your smile than feel annoyed about his expensive wine being wasted. He won’t let his face show it though.

“Bet she enjoyed that.”

“Yea I thought she would, but... she just... she said that we deserve each other. Whatever that means.”

Joe watches your fingers rub along your sleeves. Knows what that means.

“That’s not true.” he suddenly says, voice low and sincere.

“Oh, right,” you huff a laugh and half-heartedly joke, “I don’t deserve you, of course.”

Joe doesn’t laugh.

“No, I mean... well, yes. Technically.” Before he continues, Joe shakes his head in an attempt get his thoughts in order. It’s late. “But not in the way you just said it. In that... you probably deserve better.”

“Probably?”

“Yea. And so do I. Probably.”

Hmm.

You silently mill that over for a second. Aren’t sure what to make of it. If there’s even anything to agree or disagree with there.

“But, who’s to say. All we know is that we weren’t the best before.”

Joe stresses that last word and then lets the words float in the air for you to draw your own conclusions from. It’s certainly true that you weren’t the best together - hence the break up that eventually happened. But Joe’s expertly sharing the blame, which is not a fun truth to face.

The before saves it, a little.

The before makes it sounds like Joe’s talking about two people who no longer exist. Like, those people are gone. That door is closed. And look at you now. You’re a whole new set of two different people. It’s a different world, and you’ve changed. Grown. Learnt.

Who knows what you’d be like now.

Joe can’t predict the future.

And neither can you.

“Hmm.” you hum, eyes trained on the surface of the table, body flushed with conflicting feelings you don’t know how to put into words. Instead of stumbling through words until you find ones that make sense, you remain silent and pull at your sleeves so there’s more fabric for your fingers to run across.

“Hey,” Joe leans forward a little and catches your attention. “Are you okay? Do I need to be worried about you?”

You smile and let it take over your whole face as you shake your head no before you bring your hand up to cover another yawn.

“No. But I should go. This was never meant to be– she just… I don’t know, Emily got into my head and I didn’t know how to get her out.”

Joe contemplates in silence. Wonders if he’s okay with the idea of you walking out and going home right now, in this state. It’s almost three o’clock.

“I don’t make the best decisions after midnight. Sorry.”

You push your chair back and get up on your feet, the plan being to give Joe a quick polite hug goodbye before you make your way back to his front door.

You’re tired, but you know the second you step outside into the cold air that will make your lungs feel sore, you’ll wake up enough to make your way home without any problems.

But then Joe decides you can’t just go.

You can’t just leave.

He’s stuck.

You’re stuck.

You’re stuck in it, together, in this muddy sludge of whatever the two of you have become now. One of you is going to have to step out of their shoes and escape, and Joe thinks it should be you, because you’ve escaped this quicksand of a relationship before. You know how to get out.

It’s weird that you willingly came back.

Keep coming back.

And it’s awful that Joe just keeps inviting you in. Welcomes you with open arms every single time.

But he wants you to stay. It doesn’t have to be like before. Things can be different. Better.

He decides he’s not just going to let you leave, so when he stands up and you go in for a hug, he takes hold of you by your upper arms and starts moving you towards his sofa.

Says, “Come sit for a second.”

And no resistance comes from you. Joe thinks it must be because you’re tired. You’ve cried and you’ve worried and you’ve let all of it eat away at you until you decided to reach out to him, and now, he wants you to stay. He’s not a fan of how, from a certain angle, it looks like he’s taking advantage of the situation, but... you’re both adults.

He’s not doing anything illegal.

Well.

There’s a girl in his bed.

It’s why the flat is warm and why all the doors are closed. Joe shouldn’t have let you inside. Shouldn’t have made you come in and shouldn’t have made you close the door behind you. Shouldn’t have given you a glass of water and shouldn’t have sat you down.

He doesn’t want you to leave now.

There’s a girl in his bed.

And you’ve got a Jasper in yours.

Joe’s closeness to you will come at a price, he’s aware. But it’s one he’s willing to pay. One he’s got the cash for, no problem. Name the sum and he’ll double it.

He’s got you by the arms and is walking you over to his sofa. You are stopped just before you’re about to step onto the area rug.

“Shoes off,” he says, like he gives a shit. You know he doesn’t, but listen to him anyway, and know that taking your shoes off means you’re not going anywhere. At least not for a while.

You get turned around and get sat down, and immediately, you feel far too comfortable. The seat’s too soft. The cushion’s too fluffy. Memories of the hours spent snuggled up on this sofa shoot into the forefront of your mind and you want to warn Joe that it’s not going to take much for you to fall asleep.

But before you can, he pulls a throw blanket from the other side and hands it to you, and you realise that getting comfy and cosy is actually the goal here.

There’s a guy in your bed, who you’ve just… left. Didn’t tell him anything. Just got out, got dressed and left.

You take the blanket from Joe.

It’s probably a good idea to at least let him know something. Send him a text. Let him know you’re okay. But that little voice of reason in your head gets drowned out when Joe sits down next to you and helps sort out the blanket so it covers you both.

“Sit for a second?” you ask through a soft half-suppressed laugh as Joe settles in beside you, your thighs touch underneath the throw. “Am I staying the night?”

“I don’t know, I don’t control what you do. I just want to sit for a second.”

Joe stretches an arm behind you that you think he’s going to rest on top of the sofa, but it moves your head forward a little as it grabs hold of your bicep to pull you in a bit more.

“Joe...” you warn, but it sounds lighthearted and sleepy.

“What?” Joe acts all innocent, but you can hear his amusement when he adds, “Just for a second.”

Joe is still shuffling in his spot, using his other hand to sort the cushion behind him, then pulling the blanket and tucking it under his leg, followed by him using his chin to fix the bit of flipped cotton of his T-shirt sleeve – it’s a lot of faffing for someone who wants to sit for just a second.

He’s nearly done, a centering sigh half way out of him when, suddenly, you feel how he pipes up a little and see how he looks across the room. His phone’s still on the counter, and for a second, Joe debates getting up to go and get it.

You determine on his behalf that he doesn’t need his phone by draping your arm across his stomach and snuggling up.

It’s warm in Joe’s flat.

And this little nest is perfect.

“Fine.” you mutter softly. “Jus’ for a second.”

Joe pauses for a moment as he looks down at how you let your nose brush his arm, your eyes already closed, and he grins as he sinks back down into his sofa.

You don’t make the best decisions after midnight.

Neither does Joe.

Maybe you do deserve each other. Maybe you don’t.

But you deserve this, you think. And you mean that in the best way possible. You deserve to be comfortable, and cosy, and toasty warm in a dimly lit room with a man who smells really nice.

You deserve to cuddle up next to someone who truly values your presence and genuinely just wants you to be there with them for a little while.

You deserve the soft tickling fingertips that delicately dance across your hairline, lingering there for far longer than ‘just a second’.

You deserve the barely whispered, super soft “Love you.” spoken so tenderly and punctuated with a gentle kiss pressed to the top of your head, it makes you tighten your arms around him.

You fall asleep in the soft glow of the under cabinet LEDs with the knowledge that the next morning is bound to be awkward. But this is still infinitely nicer than trying to fall asleep with Emily’s words on your mind. It’s difficult to think about impossible-to-answer questions when you’re wrapped up in strong warm arms that want you there, so you allow yourself to sink and to drift until dreams fully take you.

A loud bang of a door slamming shut wakes the both of you with a violent jolt.

Two pairs of tired bleary eyes look around the room, and there’s a fleeting moment of confusion. Your mind scrambles to piece together where you are and what just happened, but all your mind can focus on is how dry and heavy your eyes feel as you blink to adjust to your surroundings.

“Oh, fuck,” Joe croaks, groaning as he goes to sit up. He looks over his shoulder, then rubs a heavy hand across his face before he goes, “Yea…”

You feel disoriented and frazzled, and move to sit up just enough to look over the back of the sofa with squinty eyes to see what Joe is even looking at.

All you see is an open door to the hallway that leads to his bedroom.

“What was that?” you ask, thinking maybe something dropped or knocked over somehow. When Joe gets up and walks over to his bedroom to check, you think that’s it. Something fell because gravity finally got a hold of whatever Joe had been precariously balancing on a bookshelf.

But then you hear Joe audibly sigh and dejectedly go, “Yea, she won’t be coming back.”

That takes minute to land.

It’s too early for your brain to comprehend what just happened, but slowly, puzzle pieces click together.

Oh.

Oh, that’s fucking detestable, isn’t it?

When Joe walks back out, he’s wearing joggers and is holding a ball of socks, and you hope there’s a different explanation than the correct one you just concocted. He looks at you for a moment, and you can tell by the look on his face that he feels awful.

Right.

Emily can fuck off.

You don’t deserve each other.

You deserve better than this.

Okay, so, yea, admittedly, you aren’t really one to talk, seeing the personal choices you have made over the past eight hours. But the choices Joe has made in that same span of time are just as bad, if not worse.

You decide to give into the feeling of wanting to lay back down rather than to face whatever this morning has on offer for you. You disappear from Joe’s sight, and cover all of your face with your hands that press and pull at your skin.

This is such a mess.

“Emily can fuck off.” You mutter into your own palms, hoping Joe can translate that and connect the dots of your disdain for him in this very moment.

You should leave.

Should check your phone for any messages or missed calls, and you should leave.

Never come back.

Learn your fucking lesson already and never set foot into this flat ever again.

But then Joe leans over the back of the sofa, and with knitted eyebrows that show off every single line on his forehead, he softly asks, “Do you want a coffee?”

You drop your hands.

Look up at him. The kind face. His short hair sleep messy. Jaw line. His mouth.

You should leave.

“Um…”

Oh... oh no.

“Yea…”

Fuck.

So close.

“Yea?”

You almost had it.

“Yea. I could use a coffee.”

Almost.

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @cowboymcflurry

@demonsanddemogorgons, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevitalifestyle, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson

@emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby

@gri959, @hanahkatexo, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns

@keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @loves0phelia, @mandyjo8719

@mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr, @munsonssweets, @nadixq

@niallersfreckles, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid

@readergf, @royale1803, @skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac

@solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle

@tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @witchwolflea, @xxladymjxx, @yunirgo

add yourself

#joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #joe quinn fanfiction #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn x you #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn x reader #rpf #almost always

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soxcietyy · 10 months ago

Note

So I was thinking about virgin Y/n begging experienced Gojo to do it with her after he refused many times not wanting to rush her into things she could regret later on but then after she begged and begged he ended up fucking her at the edge of the bed forcing her to look in the mirror how he fucks her, with lots of praising.

Please?!

Gojo x virgin reader

First time writing on Gojo sooo here we go.

"Please?!"

"No."

"Please?!"

"No."

"Pleaseeeee?!"

"Since you put it that way I guess I’ll still say no. What’s up with you? Your being so persistent about something we’ve talked about before. Your not ready y/n" he said as he slouched onto the couch.

You decide to sit next to him with a disappointed look on your face. So he could see how much his answer affected you. It’s been 7 month of you guys dating and you still had yet to get some action.

You curse yourself for ruining your opportunity the first time. It was when you guys where two months in and he had you on his bed. You guys were kissing and taking his clothes off first because you were too embarrassed to do it first. You were so nervous that in the middle of making out you blurted out that fact that you were a virgin. His eyes widened at your response and he got off of you immediately, nothing ever happened after.

You didnt understand why that happened. Other people told you how much of a whore your boyfriend was before dating you and that he would sleep with anyone that caught his eye. Now he decided to be a saint and go months without doing it. You could remember googling if being a virgin was bad. How to seduce your boyfriend into doing it with you. Is my boyfriend broken?

You didn’t really gain much information with that last one.

You lay on his lap defeated. You laid down facing him so he could see how sad you were from the answer he just gave you. Were you meant to die a virgin? Looking up at him you could see how his pupils moved around from watching tv.

"Gojo please? Iv heard it’s bad for a guy to be pent up like that." You say.

He looks down at you with a smile,"thank you for your concern but I’m fine trust me." He said.

Maybe it was time you try to seductively win him over. You remember everything that Reddit post said about doing it. You just gotta look hot and do sexual things. When you thought about the example you’ve read your face turned red. How in the world do they think your going to put his fingers in your mouth so you can suck on them?! This was to embarrassing and scandalous. You cover your face not wanting to think about it anymore. You could also feel his gaze on you as he watched you.

Fuck it you’ll just suck him off. You took a deep breath before quickly unzipping his pants and unbuttoned it. He froze at your sudden antics and sighed as he tried to stop you. You pushing his hands away thought and got him member out of his pants. It was as big as you remember it being.

"Whenever your done doing whatever this is can you please put it back?" He raised a brow.

You shrug and put the tip in your mouth making him jump. "Hey get it out of your mouth." He says trying to push you off of him. You refused and went as deep as you could. To the point of your eyes watering and your mouth feeling so full that you gagged.

"You realize your less than halfway right?" He said as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

He didn’t know weather to feel second hand embarrassment or surprise by your willingness.

"You know what fine, I’ll give you what you want but just know I’m not going to go easy on you. I keep telling you your not ready and you don’t listen. If you won’t listen to me then I won’t listen when your crying later." He said standing up and carrying you into his room over him shoulder.

Finally, this was a win for you. Your finally managed to convince him to do it with you!

He laid you on the bed and began to take his clothes off. When he finished he turned to you and began to take your shirt off. You gasp remembering that you haven’t even been fully naked in front of him. He slowly took them off as he buried his eyes onto your skin. Looking at everything he hasn’t seen before. You felt so exposed nervous at the same time. Looking at body you admired how it was built. As if he were an god or something. Your eyes narrow down to his member and you notice something. Did it get bigger?!

"Don’t get all shy on me now." He cooes as he easily read you. your try to hide your breast from him since he was starting to stare daggers into them.

He leans in and kisses you passionately as he removes your hands and puts them on your side. He kissed you so desperate that it was hard to keep up with him. His tongue in your mouth as he explored everything. You didn’t seem to notice that he was taking your bottoms off since he was keeping your attention somewhere else. When you did notice you jump.

"Wait! This is too fast no?" You say pushing his face away.

"We would of been doing the deed by now if it wasn’t for you dragging things on like this." He said as he slipped your bottoms off in one go.

Your hand immediately moves to cover yourself but by the time you almost reach it Gojo is already eating you out. You throw your head back at the weird sensation. This isn’t okay right? Like is he even supposed to be doing that? You squirm feeling how the tongue moved inside of you.

"Du chu ike at?" You hear him say as he ate you out.

You looked at him confused not begging able to understand a word. He emerges from inbetween your legs and shoved two finger in you making you gasp.

"I said, do you like that?" He smirked at you as he started to curl his fingers inside of you repeatedly.

"Stop doing that and put it in my already!" You furrow your brow.

"Your no fun," he exhaled deeply as he sat In front of you and spread your legs wide.

You once again cover your face from embarrassment. You could feel how he shoved around to a position. You couldn’t help but be scared. You’ve been told that losing your virginity can be so painful while others say that it didn’t hurt at all. Hopefully it was going to be painless. Your attention was brought back by him rubbing his member up and down your cunt. Smacking it a few times on you making you jump.

Clearly he was taunting you and trying to see if you tapped out last minute. You take a deep breath as you mentally prepared yourself. There’s no way your backing out now. You feel how the tip of his member was slowly pushed in. Nothing bad until he continues to go in. It felt like he was going to rip you apart.

"Wait! Wait! Wait! It hurts!" You tell as you started pushing him back with your leg.

You could hear him chuckle as he grabbed your foot that you placed on his chest to force him back.

"Y/n, I said I wasn’t going to go easy on you." He pushes your leg down to your chest.

Your eyes widen realizing this wasn’t going to be as easy as you initially thought it would be. He continued to slide in as you frantically try to stop him. Your begging him to stop and to go slower.

"Gojo, please it hurts so bad! I can’t, I can’t!" You say as tears appear in the corner of your eyes.

He leans into you and caresses your chin as he whispered into your ear.

"Be a good girl and take me. This is what you’ve been begging for no? I’m giving it to you so how about a thank you?" He said as he leaned back.

He mouthed 'thank you' to you as a way for you to do what he said.

You shake your head not wanting to do something like that. You could see a devilish grin form on his face as he began to press into you again. The same burning and painful sensation started again.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" You yell hoping it would stop him and that it did.

"You know the best way to get me all the way inside with only a bit of pain?" He asks you.

You look at him hoping for a good resolution to this.

"It’s distraction, so I’m going to try to distract you as I go inside of almost like this!" He finished his sentence as he rams into you.

Your body lurched from the pain and you let out a loud cry. That had to be one of the most painful experiences in your life. Tears began to fall from your eyes from the pain.

"Aw my poor sugar cube don’t cry. I know it hurts a lot but I needed to get inside. Right now your insides are getting used to me so just relax. You did such a good job." He said as he ran his fingers on your shaking thigh.

You nod at him as you wipe your tears away. It took a bit for your body to get kind of used to him. When he noticed he he slid out and turned you around. He told you to get on fours and to look at yourself in the mirror.

"I think iv been pretty patient with you so it’s my turn to have fun okay? Be a good girl and no cryin" he kisses you on the head.

Once again he slid inside of you fully making you want to cry again. You see as he shook his finger at you telling you not to cry. You shut your eyes and fight off the tears. Once he decided to move he slid out and slammed into you fully. Your jaw drops a bit from the sudden unfamiliar feeling. This was something new to you. A feeling that made you feel a way you couldn’t describe. He did it a few times before saying something.

"That’s it huh? That’s your sweet spot. Found it faster than I thought I would. Now we can have real fun." He smiles.

He grabs you by the hips and digs deep into your cunt making you moan. He rolled his over and over again.

"Such a good girl, this is what you wanted huh?" He praised you.

He grabbed you by the hair making you look straight in the mirror as he pushed you down. He made sure your ass was still up as he pounded you forcefully.

"Gonna make you into such a whore for my cock only." He groans as your walls tighten.

He pounded you so aggressively that you gripped on the bed sheets and let out whimpers. He forced you to look at how me drilled your virgin hole with no mercy. The wet sounds filling your ears as he continued.

"I feel weird Gojo, ah! Something feels really off." You moan.

"Fuck, your gonna come huh? Be a good girl and come all over my cock. I want you to leave a mess on it." He says as he doesn’t stop. He pushed your head down as he went in you harder. Your legs began to shake as you orgasmed. Tears began to fall as you finished so hard. The sensation was something so amazing. You couldn’t move from the after math of it. You felt so weak and out of energy.

"Common get back up, i haven’t finished yet."

#gojo sensei #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #satorugojo

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tkwrites · 3 months ago

Text

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

Gif from offside-the-lines

Title: It Doesn’t Matter - Part III

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.

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