#which to me made it read like She didn't have any other outfits for the situation and had to wear her motorcycle outfit like a costume

[lil-oinks]

my issue with movie peach isn't that she's not feminine because obviously she is, and anyone sensible already knows "she's too feminist" or whatever is dumb. my issue is they made her into every generic cool serious surface-level "strong female character" action girl in a group of all men whose only character trait is "capable" that they've been writing over and over and over for the past ten years. I genuinely feel like they erased any personality she had past her appearance in favor of the single superficial female character type men tend to write when they want to be feminist and "modern." I'm not saying she shouldn't be capable and she shouldn't be cool or fight things because (I love paper mario) those things already are a part of her personality. this point is difficult to make with all of the "they're erasing feminine dainty proper women" takes because that's not what I'm taking about at all. I've seen people say if they wanted a character like this daisy was right there, but I wouldn't switch her character over to this trope either. daisy's LOUD and energetic and fun and the subdued woman whose role is being picking up the men's slack doesn't really fit her either (although I agree the two of them together would balance each other out (and it'd be nice if there were two women and they could interact)). it's exactly what I'd expect from a movie like this so I don't know why I complain, but I wish they would've done her differently. the character mario is about the whimsy but so is peach

[hedgehog-moss]

I saw an astronaut walking on the side of the road today, which is the kind of thing my brain will placidly accept at first, only to go "Wait, an astronaut" a minute later once I'm done with my previous train of thought. By then I felt like it might be too late to stop my car, but I ended up stopping anyway because I didn't want to spend the rest of the afternoon wondering.

I waited for the astronaut to catch up with me since they were going in my direction, but they didn't. Eventually I got out of the car and retraced my steps, and after a bend in the road when I saw no one walking towards me I decided the visitor must have gone back to their spacecraft and I would never get an explanation for this—and then in the distance I caught a glimpse of the white space suit disappearing into the forest.

I managed to catch up with them and they turned out to be a distant neighbour of mine (let's call her M.), and what looked like a space suit when I was driving by was a beekeeper's outfit! (Sorry for the pointless suspense but I was taking you on the same little journey my brain went through.) M. was tickled when she learnt that I mistook her for an astronaut—she told me she'd borrowed her husband's too-big shoes which made her drag her feet, hence why she looked like she was having trouble readjusting to Earth's gravity.

Then she said that one of her hives had swarmed, and she was pretty sure she knew where the swarm was. I had no idea how swarming worked so as we walked in the woods she explained that when a hive becomes too crowded, the queen will get replaced by a new one, and the old queen will leave along with half of the bees. After this split, the swarm will cluster somewhere nearby and wait while scout bees fly away in search of a new hive location. "That's when you have to catch them—if you can find the swarm. But here it is!"

I wasn't expecting quite so many bees!! I'm pretty scared of all flying creatures so allow me to pat myself on the back for what came next—I thought I was about to learn how to catch a swarm from a prudent distance, but M. asked if I could give her a hand, seeing as her husband was supposed to be here to help but clearly wasn't.

The first step of catching a swarm was spraying the bees with sugar water, and I was glad not to be asked to help with that, as it seemed like something that could make bees angry. ("On the contrary, it makes them less agitated!" I was told, but that remained to be seen.) Step 2 was pulling on a rope tied to the tree branch in order to lower the swarm into the new hive, and that was the job I was recruited for. The rope was long enough that I could stand several metres away to pull on it, but my role in this swarm-catching business was still all too clear to any angry bee looking for someone to blame.

I remembered reading that bees can sense the electric field of flowers, so I thought there was no way they wouldn't sense the staticky nervousness coming from the rope-puller, but thankfully they completely ignored me.

M. was offering one fun fact about bees after the other, in a very relaxed voice, which was very interesting and very soothing for both me and the bees. She said this particular colony was very sweet ("some bee colonies are meaner than others?" "yes of course"), and that swarming usually happens a bit earlier in the year "but it's been raining so much lately, the bees had to postpone all their activities, just like us" and also "swarming involves quite a bit of planning ahead of time; for example worker bees have to put the queen on a diet so she won't be too fat to fly. Did you know that?" I did not!

Unfortunately our first attempt to catch the swarm failed. The bees entered the hive, had a quick look around their new home, then left in disgust and formed a thick, angry, buzzing cloud over our heads, while I tried to think nothing but bee-loving thoughts to make my electric field harmless and friendly.

Then one after the other all the bees returned to the exact same spot on the branch where we'd first found them. ("Because it smells like the queen" said M.) We examined the near-empty hive and found that a mouse had made a nest in there! She was no longer here but the traces of her passage were evident (some of the comb was very nibbled.)

As we were removing the supplies brought in by the mouse (sticks, hay), M.'s husband joined us and he had brought a spray bottle containing some sort of bee-attracting liquid (pheromones?) (I didn't have a close look at the bottle because I made sure to stay far away from the bee-attracting liquid, while he sprayed it inside the hive.)

He had also brought a white sheet which he spread under the tree, explaining that the bees will want to get away from the bright surface and look for darkness, thus hopefully getting inside the box. Another thing I learnt is that once the queen enters the hive, the nearest worker bees will spread the message by turning round and fluttering their wings to send a chemical signal in specific directions, which will be picked up by other bees farther away; at strategic intervals some bees will light the beacons of Gondor turn round and fan their wings to relay this scent-message until the entire colony is informed of the queen's new location.

We were more successful the second time around! This time the bees who went in didn't immediately get out again to return to their branch. Well I say "we" but I didn't volunteer to pull on the rope again, so I can't claim any role in this victory. But my personal victory was that I stood quite a bit nearer this time so I could watch everything closely, and I felt more intrigued than nervous. Bees were constantly zipping past me but it had become clear that my electric field was pure and they bore me no ill will. I was always fond of bees from afar and happy to see them do their thing in flowers in the spring, but today's adventure got me interested in their daily life as well, so I think I'll read some books about bees this summer!

I was reading last month about the morality of termite colonies (Maeterlinck's La vie des termites) and I had a feeling this man must have written some poetic stuff about bees as well—and he did. Here's a translated excerpt from his book "La vie des abeilles" :)

[shdysders]

a cold table

pairing: vada cavell & reader

summary: in which your anniversary with vada didn't turn out like it was supposed to.

word count: 4.8k

author’s note: proof reading this honestly just makes me throw a tantrum bc it’s ridiculously bad in my view. but i’m posting this in hopes of you liking it.

You and Vada were the epitome of "opposites attract."

On the surface, it seemed almost impossible that you two would end up together, let alone be the type of couple that made people smile just by looking at you.

Vada was the kind of girl who looked like she just grabbed her dad's clothes from the laundry basket and made it work. Putting together outfits that made no sense to anyone but her.

Oversized flannel shirts, baggy jeans and sneakers that had seen better days—she wore it all with an air of confidence that dared anyone to question her choices.

She didn't care about trends, and you couldn't imagine her spending more than five minutes deciding what to wear.

You however, were the opposite—always put together, wearing clothes that you knew looked good on you because you liked feeling confident and in control.

When it came to school, Vada was effortlessly good at everything she tried.

She could ace a test without studying, participate in class debates with barely any preparation, and somehow still find time to be the laid-back, carefree person everyone admired.

She had a mind that worked faster than most, but she didn't flaunt it.

You, on the other hand, had to work hard for your grades. School didn't come easily to you, but you cared enough to put in the effort.

You stayed up late studying, agonized over assignments, and took pride in every hard-earned B+ you received. Your determination was something Vada admired, even if she never said it out loud.

Although she would tease you about how seriously you took school, but when it came down to it, she'd show up for study sessions, sometimes even surprising you by actually helping.

And even though you weren't a natural at school, you made sure she didn't slack off too much, reminding her about deadlines and sometimes dragging her to the library when she'd rather be anywhere else.

Everyone at school saw how different you and Vada were. Some people were surprised when you first started dating, while others seemed to have seen it coming from a mile away.

Vada had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room, even when you were surrounded by people.

She listened to you, really listened, like your thoughts were the most important thing in the world. When you talked about your day, no matter how mundane, she would look at you with those deep, thoughtful eyes and nod along.

And you were always there for her, too. Vada might have been the laid-back one, but she had her moments of doubt, and you were the first person she'd turn to.

People noticed how you two balanced each other out. You didn't try to change one another, but you definitely influenced each other in subtle ways.

You brought some structure into Vada's life, and she taught you how to loosen up a bit. You didn't make a show of your relationship, but the way you naturally gravitated toward each other said a lot.

Everyone could see that, even if you didn't make a big deal out of it, you were good for each other.

And even though people didn't really talk about you and Vada much—there wasn't any drama, no on-again, off-again stuff.

You were just there, solid and steady, the kind of couple everyone figured would last. It was easy to imagine you two growing old together, the high school sweethearts who actually made it.

You thought so, too. For the longest time, it just felt like you and Vada were meant to be, that nothing could really shake what you had.

But that was before you started to doubt everything the two of you had.

Before the incident.

You were in the library that day, tucked away in a corner with your books spread out in front of you. Vada had class, and you were trying to focus on an assignment due the next day. It was just another ordinary afternoon, where everything felt routine and predictable.

Then, out of nowhere, you heard it—a loud, sharp sound that made you freeze.

At first, you couldn't quite place it, but then it happened again, and suddenly the room around you shifted.

The quiet murmur of students working turned into panicked whispers, and then, in what felt like seconds, chaos erupted.

Gunshots.

The next thing you knew, people were scrambling, and you were being pulled down to the floor by someone you didn't even know. Your heart was pounding so hard you thought it might burst. You could barely think, your mind racing with fear and confusion.

Meanwhile, Vada had been in the bathroom, just down the hall from where the first shots were fired. She wasn't alone—Mia, the popular girl everyone knew but no one really knew anything about, was there too.

When the first gunshot echoed through the halls, they both froze, their eyes wide with terror. Without a word, they rushed into the nearest stall together, instinctively pulling their feet up onto the toilet seat to stay hidden.

In the days that followed, everything felt like a blur.

The school was closed, news crews swarmed the area, and you were left trying to process what had happened. You tried to be there for Vada, but it was hard to know how.

She was different—quieter, more withdrawn, like she was lost in her own head. You wanted to help, to say something that would make it better, but nothing felt right. It was like a wall had gone up between you, and no matter what you did, you couldn't get through to her.

Vada barely talked about what happened in the bathroom with Mia.

When she did, her voice was flat, detached, like she was telling a story that had happened to someone else. She wouldn't look you in the eye, and that scared you more than anything.

You could see the fear and anger simmering under the surface, but she wouldn't let it out. She tried to act like everything was fine, but you could see the cracks forming.

You knew she was probably feeling a million things—guilt, fear, anger, maybe even shame for surviving when others hadn't. But she didn't talk about it, and you didn't know how to bring it up without making her shut down more.

Every time you reached out, it felt like she was slipping further away, retreating into a place you couldn't follow.

The carefree attitude that used to define her was gone, replaced by a tension that never seemed to leave. You noticed how she avoided certain hallways, how she liked to be alone now, and how she wouldn't talk about it. It was like she was trying to hold it all together, to not fall apart, but you could see how much it was costing her.

Vada didn't go back to school for a long time.

But eventually, you did go back due your parents forcing you. It wasn't easy, and you felt guilty every day.

The hallways felt different, quieter, like everyone was holding their breath. You went through the motions, trying to keep up with classes and pretending things were normal, but they weren't.

Not for you, and definitely not for Vada. It was hard walking into school every day, knowing she was at home, struggling with things you couldn't fully understand.

You tried to keep things normal, to talk about school, or movies, or anything that wasn't about what happened. But even then, you could feel the distance growing.

At first, the way Vada acted—or didn't act—around you didn't really matter. You understood she was going through something unimaginable.

You were patient, giving her the space she seemed to need, even when she seemed distant or didn't respond much.

What really caught you off guard wasn't the silence or the way she sometimes snapped at you, which you could understand given everything she was dealing with.

What hurt more was when Vada started disappearing.

You'd try to check in on her, but she was often unreachable, and you had this sinking feeling she wasn't just avoiding you—she was spending time with someone else.

You'd seen Mia post something on social media, little hints that made it clear Vada had been with her. It wasn't like you blamed her for needing someone who understood what she'd been through, but it stung all the same.

The fact that she was turning to Mia instead of you made the distance between you feel even wider, and that's when the doubt started to creep in. You knew she was hurting, but you couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of something you weren't prepared to face.

And as the days went on, Vada started staying out late, not telling you where she was or who she was with. The first time it happened, you tried not to worry too much, but it kept happening.

You wanted to talk to her, to see how she was really doing, but every time you tried, she seemed to slip further away.

Then, one night, you decided to go over to her house, hoping to finally have that conversation.

When she opened the door, you could immediately tell something was off. She was unsteady on her feet, her eyes a little glazed over, and you could smell the alcohol on her breath.

She was drunk, and it had shook you more than you expected. This wasn't like her at all.

You tried to ask her what was going on, why she was drinking, but she just brushed you off, slurring something about needing to forget for a while.

It worried you, seeing her like this, knowing that she was hurting so much that she felt the need to numb it with alcohol. You wanted to help her, to pull her back before she fell too deep, but she wasn't letting you in.

Even with everything going on, you held onto the hope that Vada wouldn't forget about your three-year anniversary. It was the one thing you thought might still matter, even with all the changes and distance between you.

Every year, you and Vada had always done something special to mark the day. It was your tradition—whether it was a simple picnic in the park or watching the stars from the roof of your house, it was always something that brought you closer together.

You thought that this anniversary might be a turning point, a chance for both of you to reconnect and maybe find some of what had been lost in the chaos.

You knew things weren't the same as before, but you hoped that this day would remind Vada of what you had, of how much you meant to each other.

You spent weeks planning something small but meaningful. Nothing too extravagant, just something that would show her you still cared deeply and that you wanted to make this work.

You spent weeks planning something small but meaningful. Nothing too extravagant, just something that would show her you still cared deeply and that you wanted to make this work.

You had arranged everything perfectly. After some careful planning, you talked to Vada's parents about your idea, suggesting that they and her little sister Amelia spend the night at Vada's grandmother's house.

You knew your own parents would never approve of the two of you having the house to yourselves on a school night, but Vada's parents were different.

They saw how much you meant to each other and, more importantly, how much Vada needed something to remind her of the good things in her life. They agreed without hesitation, eager to give you both the space you needed.

With the house to yourselves, you planned to cook dinner for her—nothing fancy, just her favorite comfort foods, something that would make her feel safe and loved.

You'd set the table in the dining room with candles, making it feel cozy and intimate.

After dinner, you were going to to watch the movie you saw on your first date. It was your way of trying to bring things back to the beginning, to remind her of who you both were before everything got so complicated.

You wanted the night to be perfect, not in some grand, over-the-top way, but in a way that would show Vada that you still believed in what you had together. This was your chance to reconnect, to pull her back from the distance that had grown between you, and you were determined to make it happen.

As the day got closer, you tried not to let your anxiety get the best of you. Vada had been distant, but you convinced yourself that she wouldn't let this day slip by.

This was your day, after all—the one day you could both take a break from everything else and just focus on each other. You were counting on it, needing it to bring you back together, at least for a little while.

The day finally came, and you had everything set up just the way you imagined.

You spent hours in the kitchen, carefully preparing all of Vada's favorite dishes. The table was set with candles, the lights dimmed just right to create that warm, intimate atmosphere. Everything was perfect, down to the last detail.

The whole thing was meant to be a surprise—you hadn't told Vada anything, just that she should come straight home after whatever she had planned for the day. You imagined her walking through the door, seeing the setup, and maybe, just maybe, something in her would shift back to how it used to be.

But as the minutes turned into hours, the excitement started to fade, replaced by a growing sense of worry.

Vada wasn't coming home.

You waited and waited, watching the food grow cold on the table. You tried calling her, messaging her, hoping for some kind of response, but there was nothing. Each time your phone stayed silent, your heart sank a little deeper.

You knew deep down that just waiting around probably wasn't the smartest idea. Maybe you should've told her, given her a heads-up so she could be sure to come home.

The hours passed and the house stayed empty, you couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in your chest. The night you'd planned so carefully, the night that was supposed to bring you closer, was slipping away, and with it, the hope you'd been clinging to.

You kept glancing at the clock, the numbers glowing dimly in the quiet room. It was nearly 11, and you were clinging to the hope that she'd come through the door any minute.

If she did, you'd just reheat the food, relight the candles, and try to salvage the night. It wasn't ideal, but you were ready to make the best of it.

Then, the front door creaked open, and Vada walked in. You jumped up immediately, eager to greet her.

When she saw you, her expression was a mix of surprise and something else you couldn't quite place. She looked at you weirdly, as if you were weird for being there.

She seemed off—her steps were unsteady, and there was a distant look in her eyes that made you worry.

"What... What are you doing here, Y/N?" she mumbled, her voice slurring slightly. She seemed distant, making you worry even more.

You tried to smile, but it felt stiff and uncertain. "Today's our three-year anniversary," you said, your voice filled with hesitation. "I was hoping we could spend some time together. You know, like we always do."

Vada let out a scoff and began to walk toward her room, her steps slow and uneven. She glanced at you with a weariness in her eyes, as if the effort to respond was too much. Her shoulders were slightly hunched, and she seemed to be struggling to focus on you.

"Do we really still care about this?"

It hit you harder than you expected. You tried to hold onto your initial excitement and positivity, but her tone made it hard to ignore the distance growing between you.

As she took those two steps toward her room, you felt a mix of disappointment and confusion, unsure how to reach out or fix what seemed to be slipping away.

Vada walked closer, and you could smell the strong scent of alcohol on her breath.

As she moved into the light, you noticed her eyes were red and puffy, and it was hard to tell if it was from crying or something else.

You hoped it was tears—something you could understand and help with. The thought of it being anything worse made your heart sink. You stood there, struggling to reconcile the image of her pain with the reality of what was happening.

You took a hesitant step forward and asked, "Are you drunk?"

Vada's face reddened with anger. "Are you seriously judging me right now?" she snapped.

You were taken aback by her reaction, and a wave of nervousness washed over you.

The fact that she was drunk only seemed to make everything worse.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady, said, "No, I was just wondering where you've been. Have you been drinking alone?" Your words trailed off, unsure how to continue as you watched her closely, hoping she'd open up.

Vada's anger seemed to wane as she noticed your genuine concern. "I was with Mia," she said simply, her voice a bit softer.

You hesitated for a moment before asking, "Have you done drugs?"

Vada's face flushed with anger as she spun around, muttering, "Oh my god." She shot you a fierce look, clearly irritated.

You quickly followed her, trying to explain yourself. "I was just worried because you've been spending a lot of time with Mia, and I was just wondering what you two were up to. I didn't mean to... I just wanted to know." You felt yourself rambling, hoping she'd understand your concern.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. "I just need to know if there's something more going on between you and Mia."

You knew the question was direct and might come off as rude, but you were desperate to understand what was happening.

You needed to know if this was the end for you both, if there was something significant you were missing.

Vada's eyes widened in surprise, her face flushing with a mix of anger and guilt. For a moment, she looked taken aback, as if the question had cut through a fog of confusion. Her response was immediate but hesitant,

"What are you talking about? There's nothing between us." But her tone betrayed a hint of uncertainty, leaving you more unsettled than before.

Your curiosity was driven by the fear that everything you had might be unraveling, and you were grasping at any answers that could provide clarity.

You were grasping for understanding, your voice trembling. "I don't know. It feels like you've just—"

Vada cut you off, voice loud enough to make you flinch. "Why do you always have to question everything?" she slurred, her speech thick and unsteady. "Just because we're dating doesn't mean you need to know everything I'm doing or feeling! I'm so fucking tired of you prying into every little thing!"

Her movements were uncoordinated; she stumbled slightly as she spoke, her balance wavering.

The alcohol and possibly drugs made her seem disconnected, her eyes glassy and unfocused. She swayed slightly as she continued, her anger barely masking the haze of her intoxication.

You struggled to keep calm, knowing her anger was intensified by the substances she'd consumed. "I didn't mean to pry," you said, your voice trembling. "I just wanted to understand what's happening with us."

Vada glared at you, her frustration still evident. "What, do you expect me to lay out every detail of my life for you?" she snapped, her voice laced with bitterness.

"Do you want me to explain my feelings all the time, like it's some kind of control?"

You shook your head, your voice trembling as you quietly replied, "No, that's not what I meant." Her words and actions seemed disjointed from what you were trying to address. Vada's gaze remained fixed on you, her anger unyielding and her eyes burning with frustration.

Her words and actions seemed disjointed from what you were trying to address.

You had only been seeking clarity about your relationship, not demanding control or constant explanations. Her response felt out of touch with your intentions, leaving you confused and hurt as you tried to make sense of her accusations.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest, and asked, "What did you guys do?"

You didn't expect anything shocking or out of the ordinary. You just hoped she'd tell you they hung out, talked, maybe drank a little—nothing more.

You weren't trying to accuse her of anything; you just wanted to make sure they hadn't done something reckless or dangerous.

The thought of her putting herself in a risky situation was what really worried you.

That's why you asked—to ease the growing unease in your chest, to hear something that would put your mind at rest, and to reassure yourself that everything was still okay.

Vada's eyes flashed with irritation as she responded, "Nothing."

Her tone was dismissive, but you couldn't ignore the gnawing doubt inside you. You glanced at the clock on the wall, noting the time. "Vada, it's almost 11 a.m. You've been with her all night. Of course, you did something."

The air was thick with tension, almost suffocating. Vada's posture stiffened, her shoulders tensing as she tried to process your words. You could see her face flush, her mind clearly racing as she grappled with the confrontation.

She had always hated these kinds of direct confrontations, and it was evident she was struggling to come up with a believable excuse.

For a moment, there was a charged silence. You watched as Vada's gaze darted around, her eyes betraying her panic.

She opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again, her face a mixture of frustration and fear as she searched for a way to deflect or minimize the situation.

Her hands fidgeted at her sides, clenching and unclenching in a futile attempt to steady herself.

The silence dragged on, and you could almost see her internal struggle as she failed to come up with a satisfactory answer.

Her frustration began to bubble over, and her composure started to crack under the pressure. Finally, with a sharp intake of breath, she snapped.

"Fuck it," she burst out, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation.

"I smoked weed with Mia, got high and I slept with her, alright? Is that what you'd like to hear?"

Her admission was blunt and raw, a revelation that she hadn't intended to make but couldn't hold back any longer. The anger in her eyes and the way her voice wavered revealed the depth of her frustration and the extent of her emotional turmoil.

Her voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife.

Her confession hit you like a punch to the gut. The words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding, and you could feel the room closing in around you.

The shock made it hard to breathe. You tried to stay calm but struggled to process what she'd just admitted. "You slept with her?" you repeated quietly, your voice trembling.

For a split second, you saw a flash of regret in Vada's eyes, as if she realized the weight of what she'd said.

Although that look quickly faded, replaced by her defensive stance.

The moment of vulnerability was brief, almost as if she was trying to erase it before you could fully grasp it. You were left reeling, trying to make sense of her sudden, raw honesty and what it meant for both of you.

Did she actually sleep with her? Or did she just say it out of anger or because she was under influence?

Mia had always been someone you thought was a friend to Vada, someone who was there for her in ways you couldn't be after everything that happened.

You never saw her as a threat, never imagined that Vada's connection with her could be something more than just two people sharing their trauma.

But after every late night that Vada seemed to spend with her,  the doubt had tightened its grip.

You thought you had tried so hard to be there for Vada, to break through the walls she had built up, but now it felt like those walls were never meant to let you in. They were meant to keep you out, while Mia was welcomed in.

The realization that Mia, the girl Vada used to mock for her obsession with popularity and appearances, could have become something more to her, stung.

Vada had always rolled her eyes at the way Mia cared about what people thought, about how she looked. It was something that made you believe Vada and Mia could never be more than friends.

But now, you couldn't help but wonder if all that bashing was just a cover, a way to hide the truth even from herself.

Had Vada's complaints been a way to deflect from feelings she didn't want to admit?

You could feel the tears welling up, your lips trembling uncontrollably. You didn't try to hide it, but it felt irrelevant since Vada seemed to look right through you.

Her gaze was unfocused, her pupils dilated, wide and glassy, as if she was barely seeing you. Her mouth was twisted into a slight, almost mocking smile that made your heart sink even further.

You hoped and prayed that she didn't actually found this funny.

You tried to convince yourself that she would regret this later, that she'd understand the pain she was causing, and that the real Vada—without the haze of alcohol and anger—would recognize how deeply she had hurt you.

But not even your hopes seemed to be on your side as Vada let out a heavy sigh, the anger seeming to drain from her as she suddenly looked exhausted.

"I'm going to bed," she mumbled, her voice still slurred, but now quieter, almost as if the fight had taken all the energy she had left.

She turned on her heel, swaying slightly as she started to walk away.

But then she paused, her hand gripping the edge of the wall for balance, and looked back at you with a cold, detached expression.

"And clean this shit up before my parents get home," she snapped, her voice filled with disgust as she gestured vaguely at the table where the dinner you had so carefully prepared now sat untouched, cold.

"It looks fucking ridiculous." She spat out, her words like shards of glass cutting through you.

You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, feeling the sting as you glanced back at the table.

Her words echoed in your mind, and as you looked at the half-heartedly arranged candles and the untouched dinner, you had to admit—maybe she was right.

It did look ridiculous.

Without waiting for a response, Vada turned away, her frustration palpable as she stormed off toward her room. The silence that followed was heavy, the flickering candles casting long shadows that seemed to mock the effort you had put in.

You stood there, feeling like a stranger in a house you had once felt so welcomed in, like an outsider in a place you had imagined as your second home.

As you cleaned up like she told you to, the weight of what had just transpired settled heavily on your shoulders.

You packed the leftover food into containers, trying to salvage what you could for Vada's parents. Each movement felt mechanical, your hands moving on autopilot while your mind was consumed by a torrent of thoughts.

You sobbed quietly, tears falling onto the remnants of a dinner that was meant to celebrate love and commitment, that was meant to fix what you guys had.

It wasn't a formal breakup, but the reality was clear.

Vada's behavior, whether from being drunk or high, had made it clear that things between you were over, even if no formal words had been spoken.

There was so much left unsaid, so many questions swirling in your mind.

Although as you walked out the door of the Cavell house, you knew the answers no longer mattered.

[tkwrites]

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

Gif from offside-the-lines

Title: It Doesn’t Matter - Part II

Part I | Part II | Part III | Playlist

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Beginning: Nico Hischier x Original female character 

Summary: When Nico agreed to pose for Lena as her nude model, he never expected how difficult it would be or where the night would take them. 

Warnings: Slow burn, talk of lots of anxiety, being naked for the sake of art, smut at the end (18+): handjob (f on m) fingering (m on f) 

Word count: 12,200

Comments: This fic has taken on a bit of a mind of its own. It’s much, much longer than I originally envisioned, but I couldn’t bear to cut any of it down. I hope you like it as much as I do and enjoy Nico and Lena finally sharing their feelings for each other. 

If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

It Doesn’t Matter - Part II 

“I feel like I shouldn’t eat before,” Nico said, looking down at the spread of sushi that had just been delivered to the apartment. 

“Why not?” 

“So I’m not…” he patted his stomach affectionately. Not only would he be immortalized in her art, he didn’t want the first time she saw him naked to include being bloated from eating too much rice. 

Lena flipped her hand and shook her head, “the whole point of a nude study is to see a human figure as it is, not as someone who's prepped for three days or something.” 

He looked unconvinced. 

“Do whatever you feel comfortable with, but don’t get hangry on me,” she warned, pointing her chopsticks at him.

Holding up his hands in surrender, he laughed. 

He ate but stopped as soon as he felt the mildest hint of fullness. He could eat more when they were done. 

“So, do I just get naked?” he joked, sliding the plastic takeout containers into the fridge. 

She snorted, but the tips of her ears flared pink. 

“I…kind of hoped…” her voice trailed off. She wasn’t sure if she could just come out and ask for what she wanted. If he were a hired model, she would have asked him to come in a specific outfit, but this was Nico, and he was doing this as a favor. 

“What?” he asked, unsure why she was being so hesitant. He was doing this for her. Didn't she know he would do just about anything for her? “Do you want me to wear something specific?” 

Well, if he was offering. “Can you put on some dark suit pants with a belt?” 

That wasn’t so bad. “Anything else?”

“No socks.” She knew he didn’t love to be barefoot, but for this, they would go against the picture and story she was building in her mind. 

“Does it matter what color boxers?” he asked instead of protesting. He couldn’t remember what color he’d put on that morning. 

Just thinking about seeing him in his boxers made her blush. Which was so stupid. She’d walked into the kitchen just the week before, only to find him walking around in nothing more than a tiny pair of black boxer briefs. They’d hugged his ass so tightly that she could see the muscles shift every time he moved.  

Finally managing to shake her head and desperate to change the subject, she blurted, “I’m going to go set up in the living room.”

Nico smiled at how flustered she was as he went to change. Maybe Nina was right. At the very least, she might not be totally wrong. 

“Maybe I’m just reading too much into it,” Nina had said when he had called his siblings in a panic the day before, trying to figure out how exactly he was going to get through this. “But I think you should give it a try. At least tell her how you feel. You don’t see the way she looks at you.” 

He did see the way she looked at him. The same way she always had. Friendly and open and kind. But that was it. It never went beyond that.

“And what if I tell her and she turns me down? Or what if I tell her, and she says she doesn’t feel that way? I can’t just go back to how it was before. I can’t just take it back.”

“Isn’t it killing you to not tell her?” Luca asked. He didn’t understand it as well as Nina did, and had both feet firmly in camp ‘grow a pair and tell her,’ like Jack. 

He gave a non-committal shrug. It was killing him. No, that was too dramatic. It wasn’t killing him, but it was making him a little crazy to feel so much intense emotion without having anywhere to put it. 

Nina was tired of having this same discussion with him, which had only increased in frequency when Lena moved in. If she knew for a fact Lena wouldn’t turn him down, she wouldn’t hesitate to bully her little brother into spilling his guts. But as it was, she couldn’t guarantee anything.

“I’m going to make an ass of myself,” Nico moaned. 

“You are not,” Nina admonished at the same time Luca said, “so what if you do?” 

Luca continued before either of them could jump in, “you make an ass out of yourself every day you don’t tell her the truth.” 

Nico had glared, and Nina had rolled her eyes.

In any case, knowing Lena was also nervous took some of his nerves down, too. At least he wasn’t alone in that. 

Pulling out her art supplies, Lena felt like she might throw up. She was nervous and excited, and also so worried she wouldn’t be able to capture him. The last thing she wanted was to make Nico look flat. 

Although landscapes were her specialty, the Institute insisted every artist get a full education, crossing over as many mediums and styles as possible. Even if it wasn’t the students' specialty, lots of things could be learned from going outside your own box. 

She was scraping by in the class mostly because Professor Brown took pity on her. She told Lena over and over again that she had the talent but needed to feel the art. It was a criticism she only partially understood. Lena always felt her art, but figure drawing was indeed harder for her to connect with. She wasn't even sure why it was so difficult. Perhaps because a person was always moving, unlike a mountain that stayed steady and steadfast no matter what was happening around it. Capturing a facial expression was definitely harder than it was to find the divots and crags of a landscape.

This was another reason she wanted to sketch him. She knew him so well and knew she wouldn’t be able to turn off the part of her brain that was freaking out about seeing him naked. She would have to pay attention to his humanity and try to translate it onto the page. 

Nerves ate at her stomach. Not only with the idea of not being able to capture his lovely figure, but also… Nico was her friend. Sometimes a little more than that if either of them needed a date to an event, but they’d never taken it beyond their usual, comfortable banter that often flirted with the idea of more. It was one of the things that made moving on from him so hard. He never made solid moves, but he never cut it off, either. He flashed his dimples and made her weak in the knees, but never went so far as to kiss her or really ask her on a date. 

Seeing him naked without being in a relationship felt like a step too far. At the same time, it felt like the only option. There wasn’t another man she’d be comfortable sketching, despite her bluff about Jes. 

Now she wished she hadn’t eaten. 

At the very least, she would have the barrier of her art and easel between them. Maybe this really would force her into feeling her art. It already felt like she was fighting through her anxiety, and he wasn’t even there yet.

When he came into the living room, Nico found the furniture rearranged. She’d shoved the coffee table out of the way and set two of the dining room chairs in its place. She was unpacking her supplies, leaning a large sketching pad on her easel and lining several graphite pencils up on the side table, along with a sharpener. 

“No paints?” he asked. 

She jumped, and her heart did a little skid to the side. “These pieces are all supposed to be done in one color. I feel most comfortable with graphite, so I’m doing that instead of colored pencils,” she rambled before managing to cut herself off.

Turning to look at him, she breathed, “good heavens, you look hot,” before she could stop herself. She knew he would be, but she still felt like she’d just been socked in the stomach.

It was a bit selfish of her to request this particular outfit. She always liked the way his suit pants fit, and seeing his toned chest rising above the clean, sharp line of his black belt made her fingers itch to hold a pencil. His muscles were sculpted for practical use - not too bulky, but not too lean. Chiseled enough to show ridges and valleys, but not so much that he looked like a hulked out action hero. 

He was desire personified. He was… he was an Adonis.

A cheeky smile lit his face, “good to know.” 

She made herself laugh to break the tension. 

“Where do you want me?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows. It felt too intimate, too much like something he fantasized about if he didn’t force himself to joke about it. 

A triumphant smile lit her face. This she could do. She was used to directing models into shapes where the light would highlight the most interesting part of their features. She asked him to stand in the middle of the room and turned him a few times, trying to get the lighting right. 

Nico tried not to flex or stand too stiffly when her hands were grasping his forearms to turn him this way and that. She stepped back to study him, then came forward to begin the process again.

Eventually, she shoved the couch out of the way and asked him to lean against the wall.

He stayed rigidly in the position she left him in as she brought another lamp into the room, angling the shade to get the shadows she was looking for. 

“Just lean against the wall with your hands in your pockets.” 

He did, and laughter burst out of her chest, “you can relax.” 

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, looking up without changing his posture. He felt stiff and on display. In his mind, this was going to be much sexier than the reality was turning out to be. He didn’t know what to do with his hands or his eyes. Or his mouth. Was he supposed to be doing something with his mouth? Should he be smiling? 

“Just stand like you would if you were waiting for something.” 

"What am I waiting for?" 

“Like you’re waiting for…me?”

“Where?” 

“I don’t know, Nico,” she caught the exasperation in her voice and cut it off. He wasn’t a professional model. He wasn’t used to coming up with scenarios on the fly like this. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head, “like you’re waiting for me to…” she trailed off. “It doesn’t really matter why.”

If it was up to him, he’d be waiting to take her to bed. She was wearing the same pink shirt she’d worn that day he walked in on her in the kitchen, and it brought up vivid memories of her wearing it without a bra. He wondered if she was wearing the matching underwear. The thought made him blush and cast his eyes down. 

His hair flopped over one of his eyes in that cartoon prince way it always did.

“Stay there,” she practically yelled, her hands itching to capture the angles of his face. 

The sound of her pencil brushing her paper took over his thoughts, and he tried not to twitch as his hair tickled his eyelid. 

“Can you relax your shoulders?” she asked. 

He rolled his shoulders back and did his best to relax, “better?” 

“Don’t move,” she chastised. 

He smiled a little before trying to settle his face back into the expression he had before. 

Just as his neck was beginning to ache, she ripped the page from her pad and asked him to sit down. 

He looked at her for direction and smiled at her intensity. He wondered if she always looked at people like this when she was drawing them. He was a little disappointed that in the six years he'd known her, this was the first time this kind of intensity was being turned on him.

“Just get comfortable.” 

Nico extended one leg and slouched into the chair, letting the other knee fall to the side so his legs were spread.

“Can you,” Lena stopped herself mid request, biting her lip. In her mind, she was forming an art story of him slowly undressing. She wondered if this was just her lust talking and if that was okay.

“Can I?” 

She decided she didn't care if it was her lust driving. It would be a good, easy to follow series.

Her cheeks were aflame, glowing bright in the lamp light. “Can you undo your pants?” 

His eyes widened momentarily, and she saw his Adams apple bob in his throat.

Forcing his fingers into action, he worked at the button and zipper, well aware of her watching his movements. 

“I want to sketch your hands,” she said, voice reverent.

Nico stilled immediately and looked at her, holding his zipper pull. That wasn’t a reaction he’d expected.

“Oh, God,” she covered her face, pencil still in her fingers so the point angled down at her wrist. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” 

He couldn’t stop the cocky grin that spread over his face. This was more like what he’d imagined posing for her would be like. “You can sketch my hands anytime you want, hase,” he said, adding on the pet name before he thought better of it.

Her blush got brighter. She hated when he called her that. Bunny. It was a term of endearment that Nina assured her was well known and used by friends and lovers alike, but it brought up all sorts of wishing on her part that they were the latter. 

“Where do you want my hands?” he asked because he knew it would make her more flustered. 

She had to clear her throat and duck behind her easel. “Wherever,” she squeaked out, trying to calm her racing heart. 

Laughing, he thought about photos of underwear models and tried to get his body into a position like that. He hooked his right thumb into his waistband, exposing more of his red boxer briefs. The other hand fell off to the side, relaxed. 

Peeking around her easel, Lena lost her breath. She had never seen him so sexy. He radiated confidence and comfort with his body — something she never quite managed to feel about herself. 

This was going to be impossible.

“Look at me.” She really didn’t want him to look at her. She felt like she might set fire to her sketch pad if he did, but it would make the most impactful portrait.

Nico’s eyes met hers, and her stomach jolted. The teasing, flirtatious energy radiating from him hit her in waves. The rumble of desire she'd been feeling in her low belly purred to a higher gear, and she had to consciously stop herself from clenching her thighs together. Flirty and intense, his eyes were focused on her with purpose. Wanting, she realized with a jolt. That’s what this expression was. The kind of wanting where you want the person you’re looking at to know you want them. 

She’d imagined getting this look of open desire from him so many times that having it turned on her now nearly knocked the breath out of her. 

Forcing her hands into action, she’d never been happier to find muscle memory taking over – drawing the basic shape of his body when her mind was still running around screaming about how outrageously, unfairly attractive he was.  

Eventually, her creative mind took over, and she relaxed into the art, strokes lengthening and easing. 

When it came time to detail, she started with his face, trying to capture his relaxed, intense stare. In any other circumstance, she was certain her panties would catch fire or dissolve right off her body if he gave her this look. In all the years she’d known him, she’d never seen this expression. He would never be so forward with her in real life. 

Despite her heart beating so hard she felt it in her throat and her wrists, her pencil stayed steady. 

The exercise wasn't lost on her. Even the first drawing felt different. This looked different from her usual work, too - more real in a way she couldn’t really describe. Almost as if he might just walk off the page and kiss the viewer. 

Wanting to get this expression just right, she paused to take a photo so she could reference it later. 

“Can we turn on some music?” he asked after a minute or two. 

“Sure. What do you want?” 

“Whatever, just something.” 

Flipping on the TV, she pulled up his music subscription service and selected a slow playlist. Something he wouldn’t be tempted to bop his head to before going back to her easel to finish.

Pushing aside the longing to be on the receiving end of this wanting in a situation where he wasn’t acting, she continued on. 

He stayed in this position the longest. He found it the most comfortable, and apparently, the way he was watching her, the concentration in her mouth, and the way it narrowed her eyes just slightly was fine for her. It was a relief to not have to school the wanting off of his face for once.

After getting to a place where she felt like she could pick back up in a day or two, she had him remove his pants and sit backward. 

Almost immediately, he leaned back, one hand gripping the chair for balance while the other ran into his hair. She yelped at him to still. 

He went rigid. The position forced him to engage his core, and the arm lifted to push back his hair started to cramp from halting mid-movement. 

This sketch ended up being her favorite, though she knew people would like the one before better. This one was really a study of his body — how his muscles flexed and bulged. She even somehow managed to capture the feeling of movement in his bicep. She’d only been able to do that with trees before. Plus, the whole thing was such a Nico gesture, it felt more like him, too. 

A page ripped from her sketch pad, and finally, letting his arm down and shaking it out, he watched her settle it, face down, onto the pile, 

“Okay,” she came out from behind her easel, her hands clasped in front of her, “I’m gonna go… get some water if you want to undress and sit back like this?” 

He nodded, feeling his cheeks heat to match hers. This was all fun, games and teasing until he had to be naked in front of her. And she wouldn’t even be touching him. She’d be standing three feet away, looking at him the way she looked at one of her paintings. 

He’d daydreamed about being on the receiving end of that intense gaze so many times, but getting it in this situation felt like a poor consolation prize. 

He was on his own here, with no one to share the vulnerability of being naked with. 

“Do you need anything?” she asked from the kitchen as he was stripping off his boxers.

“Water?” he asked, setting them on top of his folded pants. 

Walking back into the living room, two bottles in her hand, Lena stopped short. 

She had seen many nude models and taught herself to get over the shock quickly. Training her mind to see the person as a sculpture, not a living being, she focused on the beauty of the human body and not the person living in it. And Nico’s body was beautiful. Smooth golden skin, dotted with freckles and moles, that stretched over living, moving muscles. 

Except, he wasn’t a marble statue. He was a living, breathing, beautiful man, and she knew him. She knew how he acted and what he loved, and she knew how much she loved him. And how much it meant to her that he was willing to put himself in such an uncomfortable position for her. She loved him so much, her heart ached with it. How could she possibly translate that into a two dimensional piece of art? 

She knew from experience how awkward it was to be a model, let alone a nude model, and that was with people she barely knew. For Nico to be naked in front of her, willing to let her sketch his strong legs and expressive eyes was something totally different. Now, besides seeing his body, which really was so beautiful, it nearly made her lose her breath. She could also see the anxiety in the set of his thigh and the curve of his spine. 

Quite suddenly, gratitude and love for him swelled within her chest in a way she had never experienced. It felt hard to breathe. 

A small noise escaped her throat.

Looking over his shoulder, Nico asked, “okay?” 

She nodded. Her feet finally moved, and she handed him the water. “You’re so beautiful, Nico,” she said, that reverent tone back in her voice as her eyes wandered down his body.

He felt a blush creep down his neck. “I don’t…” he cleared his throat, “I mean, you’re…” 

His brain wasn’t working right. She was watching him with this wonderment in her face, like she’d just found the answer to the universe. He wanted to tell her she was the beautiful one, not him, but he couldn’t seem to find the right words when she was looking at him like that.

“Thanks,” he finally managed to say. "What do you want me to do?” 

Now that they were here, she had no idea. She just wanted to watch him for the rest of the night.

The embarrassment she’d expected never came. 

She adjusted her easel, so she was looking at him, just off to the side. She could see three-quarters of his face, but his thick thigh hid his penis from her view. “Just try to get comfortable,” she said. 

Her voice was so kind and gentle that it relaxed Nico a little, but mostly, he still felt coiled tight and out of sync. “I don’t know that I can,” he said truthfully. 

“That’s fine. I know I’m asking you to be comfortable in a really awkward situation. If you feel like you can’t look at me, that’s fine.” 

The truth was that he always wanted to look at her, but seeing her this way, looking at him with holiness in her face, made him ache for her in a way he’d never felt with anyone else.  It felt nothing like any of the dreams or daydreams he’d had that involved him being naked in her presence before. 

She started with his legs first, so he didn’t have to find a way to position his head right then. “Can you flex your right thigh?” she asked. 

He did, and she giggled. He glanced over to find her in the same spot, shaking her head, “sorry, the other thigh? Your left. My right.” 

Nico tried his best and heard a breath rush from her. 

“Good grief, your legs are so sexy,” Lena said before she could stop herself.

His breath lodged in his chest. “My legs?” he repeated, his voice one step off from croaking. Had she really just said that?

“Yes,” she said, her tone serious, pencil still working. “Men’s legs are severely underrated.”

When he glanced at her, he found her concentrating again, but her mouth was set in a new expression, lips soft and parted slightly, like she was waiting to be kissed. At this point, it was nothing short of torture.

Pulling his eyes from her, he folded his arms around the chair back and set his chin on his hands. He watched the album cover bouncing around the TV screen. Mens legs were underrated. How many men did she think about like that? 

“That’s really nice, Nico, if you can just stay like that.” 

Cookie wandered in then and flopped onto the carpet previously covered by the coffee table. He watched Nico with slow blinking eyes, and he tried not to feel so observed. 

After four more songs of listening to her pencil and eraser working, she said, “Okay.”

He sat up. 

“Wait! I have to take a picture.” 

He winced, feeling the muscles in his back knot up. “Those aren’t getting turned in, are they?” 

“Nope, they’re just for me,” she winked.

His eyes widened, and she laughed.

“No, they’re for reference so I can finish the drawings. I’ll delete them later.”  

Forcing a laugh, Nico couldn’t quite decide which was worse - her taking the pictures or telling him she'd delete them so casually. 

“Okay, so for the last two sketches, I was thinking one with you standing, and one with you supine.” 

“Supine?” he repeated. He’d never even heard that word before.  

“Laying on your back.”

Well fuck. Of all the times he imagined himself on his back with her, this was just another one that would crush the daydreams he clung to on long, lonely nights. Pushing that thought away, he asked, “what’s first?”

“Whatever’s easiest for you.”

“Standing full frontal?” he asked. 

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “None of my figure drawings have included genitals. I could cut you off at the pelvis or sketch from behind. Which would you prefer?” 

He shrugged, feeling too spent to make a decision, especially one like this. Then, quite suddenly, he realized: If he was standing in front of her, he’d have to watch her looking at his dick the whole time. “Behind,” he blurted, too quick, too loud. 

After following her instruction, he found himself standing, facing the large window, where the curtains were mercifully drawn. One of his feet was up on a rung of the coffee table, forcing him to keep balance with the other. 

“I think you need to hold something,” she said, standing and walking out of the room. 

Upon coming back, she handed him the chain he wore most of the time. He’d left it on his bathroom counter, unsure if she wanted him to wear it. The fact that she seemed to know where he’d left it without asking wasn’t lost on him. He wondered if she assumed that’s where he’d left it or if she’d somehow seen him put it there. 

“You can fiddle with that,” she said.

It was cool and solid in his hands, and he allowed it to slip through his fingers, feeling the ridges and links of the metal, before his fingers slid over the cross. His breathing centered, and he felt some anxiety unknot between his shoulder blades. 

After a quick outline, she filled in some details that wouldn’t come through in a photo and asked him to lie down. She knew he was losing steam. It was a lot to ask to pose for six different portraits. Not only did it require a certain amount of stillness on his part, but it was also a night full of being watched. She could fill in the details later. 

“Let me get you a blanket to lay on,” she said. 

He breathed a sigh of relief. At least he wouldn’t have to lay buck naked on the floor. 

She fetched the cozy blanket she kept on her bed. It was soft and comforting and smelled like her, like the  sweet, citrusy scent of her perfume. It was all at once comforting and disconcerting. He had so many memories with this scent. There was even a time his dick would twitch every time he smelled it. It was around too much, now, for that reaction, but it still called up a sharp longing in his gut.  

Wrapping it around himself,  he sat on the floor, then lay down. 

She fetched him a pillow, and once he was comfortable, began directing. “Can you bend your knee closest to me?”

He was slow to move but did it anyway. 

Sensing his fatigue, she told him, “I know, we’re nearly done.”

He sighed, relieved he didn’t have to ask. 

“I was hoping this one would be sort of satisfied.” she said, settling herself onto the floor facing him, her easel collapsed to be shorter. 

He arched one of his eyebrows.

“I don’t know,” she answered, “I mean like, content, I guess.” 

“I don’t think I can do that right now,” he said, hearing a wearied annoyance come into his voice. He was too tired to school it back. He was feeling spent up. Too much vulnerability with too little reciprocation. 

Lena bit her lip. “Can I do anything to make it better?” 

A sigh shifted his chest into a new position, “I just feel really…” he wasn’t sure what the words he needed were. 

She waited patiently for him to finish. He liked that she never rushed his thinking. 

Finally, he threw the other half of the blanket over his lap and sat up to face her. “I feel like I’m all exposed.” 

She nodded. 

“And you’re not.” 

She hmm’d and pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, thinking. It was such a Lena gesture that it made him smile. 

“Do you want me to get undressed?” she asked, then immediately regretted it. It seemed like the reciprocal thing to offer, but upon hearing the words out loud, she realized exactly how much she didn’t want to do it. Then they both would be anxious and awkward, and she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on her art, and that would be a loose loose for everyone.

“No.” Yes, of course he did. But if that were to happen, he wanted to earn it. He didn’t want it to be because he couldn’t sit through modeling for some portraits. Plus, then he would be completely distracted by her. 

She scooted a little closer to him, questioning in her eyes.

“I feel,” he hesitated, searching for the right thing to say. A long pause passed where she didn’t get fidgety or impatient, just waited for him to continue. The phrasing came in SwissGerman first, or course, and then he had to figure out how to best say it in English. “I feel like I’m doing this for nothing.”

“For nothing?” she repeated, a mildly panicked look crossing her face.

“I’m doing it for you, but for what? So you do well on your project?” He was happy to help, but it felt like too much. Too much given without any reciprocation. Perhaps his fatigue was talking. 

Her mouth pursed, “I can see where you’re coming from, but it’s a little more than a grade at this point. With you, I've finally been able to sketch the body the way I've been trying to for so long. And the fact that you’re willing to do something so uncomfortable, so vulnerable for me makes me just…I don’t even know how to say it.” She wanted to tell him that it made her love him. She’d told him she loved him before. She’d told him that many times: “love you, see you later,” but this felt different, deeper and truer somehow, and she wasn’t sure she was willing to admit those feelings. 

Instead, she asked, “do you want to see the sketches so far?” feeling they may be the best explanation she had. 

He perked up. She rarely showed anyone her art until it had been worked on more. A rough sketch was something she held close to her chest, wanting to keep it private until she deemed it good enough to display. He nodded, and Lena stood to retrieve them. 

Given a moment to think, he assessed his body, finding what was lacking with a quick scan. “I think I need to eat,” he said. 

His metabolism was so high, spiked higher by so much physical exercise all the time that hunger often came on swiftly, affecting his mood more than he’d like to admit. His teammates teased him to the point that he always had a snack with him. How long had they been at this drawing thing? He hadn’t eaten enough to begin with, and now they were however many hours in, and he was hungry. 

That would also explain it. She hadn’t been joking when she told him not to get hangry on her. Setting the sketches in front of him, she went to grab the sushi from the fridge.

The drawings were farther along than he expected. She worked faster than he knew. 

It was a strange thing to see himself in her delicate, penciled outlines.

Flipping over to the second sketch, he blinked a few times. He was himself, but not. The man on this paper was confident, relaxed, and flirtatious in a way he always wanted to be, especially with Lena.

“Is this how you see me?” he asked when she came back into the room.

“That’s how you are, Nico.” 

It was like looking in a weird, funhouse mirror. Was this how she saw him all the time? 

The third sketch was all in the details: the peek of the tattoo on his bicep, the flex of his abs, and the swell in his boxers. 

He flipped to the first nude sketch. She perfectly captured how he felt. Anxious, unsure, and alone. It even looked like he was bouncing his leg. Yet, the portrait didn’t seem to feel anxious. It somehow felt like acceptance. She wasn’t fighting against his feelings to make them prettier, never asking him to feel anything different. She took him as he was and translated him onto a page in a way he’d never seen or expected to see. 

How could he possibly be these two things just an hour apart? 

“It’s weird to see your own facets turned back on you, isn’t it? I felt that way when I had to sit for class portraits.” They had all taken turns modeling for their classmates so they could understand better the perspective of the model, and it had been strange to see sixteen different versions of herself at the end of the class - each of them skewed a little based on the artist. 

In the last drawing, he looked more relaxed. He was so glad when she’d handed him his cross to hold. Not only was it something comforting and familiar, but she’d also given him something to do with his hands, which felt important. 

This was the drawing that most made him look like a hockey player, he thought. He could clearly see how his butt and thighs were thicker than the rest of him. He’d long ago gotten used to the size of his legs, but it was still strange to see the disproportion of them in comparison with the rest of his body laid bare so thoroughly. 

She dipped her head to capture his line of vision, “I meant what I said before, Nico,” she said, handing him the to-go container. “You really are beautiful.” She flipped back to him tense and unsure. “Even here. Maybe even most here.”

His eyes shot to hers. 

“This,” she tapped the drawn version of him on the back, “represents a huge sacrifice you're making for me. Putting yourself in a very uncomfortable position to help me get better at my art. To help me really understand the human form for the first time. I look at this, and I see how much you care for me.”

When he’d finished with the rest of the sushi, feeling sated and comfortable, he looked at her. She’d placed her sketch pad on the floor and put the last drawing on top of it. Hunched over, she was filling in detail.

He always appreciated this about Lena, that if he needed some time to himself, she would find a way to keep herself busy. He didn’t feel like he had to entertain her all the time, like he did with a lot of the women in his life. It was a refreshing change of pace. 

He watched her work for a while, fascinated with the way she braced her hand with just the knuckle of her pinky finger so she wouldn’t smudge the charcoal already on the page. 

Clearing his throat, he set the empty container to the side. 

Looking up, Lena could see how much better he felt. His shoulders were more relaxed, and his hands were loose in his lap. 

“Do you want to keep going?” she asked, moving the drawing back to the pile. 

He nodded. 

“We can pick up again on Sunday if you’d rather.”

He wasn’t sure he could convince himself into doing this again. “No, I feel better,” which was a partial truth, “let's finish now.” 

She scooted back to her easel. When she got settled and looked around it, she found he had changed positions. Still on his back, his other knee was slightly bent, the blanket draped around his far hip to cover himself. His hand was up, resting under his head, showing off the smooth underside of his bicep and the tattoo of his families zodiac signs. 

“Is this okay?” he asked. 

"Yeah. Could you adjust the blanket?” she asked. “So it’s not so folded?”  

He nodded and pulled himself into a half crunch to see and adjust the fabric. His abs contracted, and Lena looked at the ceiling before she could be overwhelmed with attraction. 

“Like this?” he asked. 

When she looked again, it was better, but still looked too placed, not like it’d been hastily thrown over him. 

Her lips pressed together, an he sighed, knowing what that meant. “Can you just adjust it?” 

“You’re sure you’re okay with that?”

Pulling in a fortifying breath, he nodded. 

As she crawled over to him, Nico felt his heartbeat quicken. 

Her hands softly gathered the blanket, pulling out the folds. If he were wearing something underneath, she’d just toss it up and let it fall, but she couldn’t do that.  

Her fingers brushed the inside of his thigh as she tucked more of it between his legs, and the muscle fluttered all the way up to his groin. Biting his cheek, he stifled the groan of frustration that crawled up his throat. 

“Sorry,” she said, holding her hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry.” 

He shook his head, eyes still closed. Maybe he hadn’t been as successful as he thought. If he looked at her now, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop the semi he was sporting from popping into a full boner and he just couldn't take that embarrassment. “it’s okay. Just, no more.”

Nodding, she scooted back to her easel. 

Keeping his eyes closed, Nico thought about swimming in the cold, glacial lake near home until his body relaxed. 

“Nico,” Lena asked, her hand on his shoulder. 

His eyes fluttered open. 

Above him, her expression was soft and full of that same wonderment from before. “I’m done if you want to get dressed.” 

He nodded, and she left the room. 

Before going to join her in the kitchen, he pulled his boxers and trousers back on. 

“Sorry I fell asleep,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you felt comfortable.” 

He hugged her then, bringing her body closer to his. He'd been thinking about it for too long. 

“Thank you for doing this for me,” she said, voice intimate, dim and quiet. 

“You know I'd do anything for you,” he said. 

Did she know that? She figured she did. “Still, I know it wasn’t easy, so thank you.” 

Nico stilled when she tucked her face into his neck. She’d done this before when he’d comforted her after a breakup. Then, he’d wanted to show her he could be the better man for her, but he’d been unwilling to cross that line. He still was. Maybe Jack and Luca were right. Maybe he did just need to grow a pair and ask her out. But what if she didn’t want him and didn’t want to deal with the repercussions of that discussion and wanted to move out? He would feel horrible. She’d have to find a place that would let her keep Cookie or take him back to her parents.

“Are you okay?” she asked, running her hands over his back. His skin was warm and surprisingly soft. Along with the scent of his soap and the mild undertone of sweat, there was a faintly cedar-y smell clinging to his skin. She’d never been able to tell where it came from. It was too faint to be cologne. 

His muscles trembled. “Yeah,” he said into her hair, trying to calm his racing heart. 

Her phone trilled from her back pocket. Lena was the only person he knew who didn’t keep her phone on vibrate.

She pulled back so she could look at it.  

Nico reluctantly let his hands fall to his sides. “Your mom?” he asked. It seemed she was the only one who ever really called Lena. At least when he was around. 

“No, it’s Milo,” she said, silencing the ringer and setting the phone face down on the counter. “He’s probably drunk and wants to get laid.” 

Nico’s heart began to race with worry, jealousy, and fear. “Does he do that a lot?” Thank god his voice didn’t squeak over the words.

“Once a month or so, I guess.” 

He knew he shouldn’t ask this question. He knew it was none of his business, but he was tired and emotionally empty, and his filter was thinner than usual because of it. “Do you take him up on it?” 

Her eyebrows raised, a sarcastic look taking over her pretty features, “are you serious, Nico? Of course not. He’s just drunk dialing through his contacts list.” 

“I always hated that guy. He’s such a tool.” 

Hearing that phrase come out of Nico’s mouth, in his strong accent, made her laugh out loud. “What?” 

“That’s not the right word?” he asked. “Like he’s selfish and just does things to be cool?” 

“It’s the right word,” she confirmed, this teasing smile on her lips that would liquify his bones if he let it. “I know you never liked him. I just didn’t realize you felt so…strongly about it.” 

His nose scrunched as he blew out a frustrated breath. “He wasn’t good enough for you.”

“Well, he couldn’t measure up anyway.” 

“Measure up to what?” 

“To this guy I’ve liked for a really long time,” she said, not quite brave enough to spit out the truth.

“So why don’t you date him?” Nico asked instead of demanding to know who this man was. 

“I can’t ever tell if he’s into me.” 

“He’d be a fool to not be into you.”

“Would he?” she asked, looking into his face, wondering what he meant by that.

“Yeah. You’re kind and fun and smart,” he said. 

Part of her swooned when he didn’t lead off with the fact that she was pretty. The other part of her was a little disappointed he didn’t seem to notice. 

“Any man would be lucky to have you,” he added on quietly as his eyes dropped to his feet. He couldn’t possibly look at her while telling her another man would be lucky to have her. It would happen one day, he knew, but he kind of hoped he’d somehow be out of the picture when it did. 

Lena studied him as he looked at his bare feet. 

His curiosity got the better of him, “who is this guy anyway?” 

Well, shit. She’d really talked herself into a corner this time. What was she supposed to say now? 

“Do I know him?” 

She nodded. 

“Does he play?” he asked hesitantly. 

She nodded again.

“I thought…” The knowledge sliced through him: if it wasn’t about hockey, it was about him. “I thought you didn’t like hockey players,” he said, fighting against the ache in his chest. 

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What gave you that idea?” 

“I overheard you talking to Jessica at the rink once about how you wouldn’t date me because I was a hockey player.” 

“You’re sure I was talking about you?” 

“You said ‘I don’t date hockey players,’ and then Jessica asked, ‘what about Nico?’” 

Understanding sparked her memory. “Did you stick around to hear my answer?” She hadn’t even known he was listening in on that conversation. She’d been sitting on the refreshments counter while Jessica baked the soft pretzels. He must have been around the corner, heading into the locker room.

“You said ‘it doesn’t matter.’ I couldn’t listen anymore, so I walked away.” 

A small smile lit up her face. “If you had stayed, you would have heard me say, ‘it doesn’t matter, Nico’s not like the other guys. He’s sweet and respectful.’” 

“Oh,” he said because he didn’t know what else to say.  “I thought you didn’t date hockey players,” he said again, lamely. 

“I don’t. I mean, not the average ones,” she added on when his expression fell. “I told people that because they’d wonder why I was around the team all the time, but not shacking up with any of them. Those boys I grew up with were all such dogs, but you never made me feel less than for being a woman or like I needed to put out to be accepted.” 

His nose wrinkled. 

“See, that?” she asked, noting his disgust. “That’s why I like you, Nico. You’re sweet and kind and so respectful of women.” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You see it in locker rooms all the time. I’m sure you see it in yours currently.” 

The conversation paused as he thought. 

“You’re different than other players,” she said. “Jessica was asking me that because she knew you’re a hockey player that I liked.”

“You liked me?” he asked, his mind running in circles trying to process all the information coming at him. 

“Yeah, Nico,” she said. Well, she was already here, she may as well spill the whole pot. “I still do.” 

Half of his mouth lifted just enough to dimple his cheek.

“Ugh, don’t flash your dimples at me! I can barely keep my hands to myself as it is,” she said, shoving his shoulder.

That was new. “What if I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself?” 

Her breath hitched in her throat. “Don’t tease Nico. It’s rude.” 

“Who said anything about teasing?” 

“I —” she was having a hard time articulating her words, “but you —” 

He patiently waited for her to finish, attempting to school the grin off his face. 

“But you don’t even like me like that,” she finished, lamely.

He couldn’t help it, laughter burst out of his chest, “what?” 

“You’ve never made a move,” she said, feeling outrageously embarrassed. It was one thing to admit her feelings, but then to have them thrown back in her face was something she just couldn’t handle. 

“You know what Jack tells me every time he sees us together?” 

She was so taken off guard by the question that it jolted Lena out of her spiraling thoughts. “What?” 

“He tells me to make it happen.” 

Her eyebrows shot up. 

“All the guys know I’m in love with you.”

Her breathing hitched, and she gripped the counter behind her to keep from falling over.

“In fact, everyone knows I’m in love with you. Nina says I look so lovesick no one can miss it.” He took a step in so they were nearly chest to chest. “But somehow, you don’t ever see it,” he added quietly. 

He was so close, she was certain he could hear her heart hammering. Her mind was still caught on, ‘all the guys know I’m in love with you.’ It was like she couldn’t process the words. “You’re in love with me?” she asked. 

A deep, frustrated sound, like a groan, filtered up his throat. The thought of pulling that sound out of him in any other circumstance made her knees feel weak. It sent heat racing between her thighs.

“I’ve been in love with you since I left Halifax,” he said, relief he didn’t have to keep anything under wraps flooding through him. “That’s why I broke up with Viv when I left. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and it wasn’t fair to her or to me.” 

Her wide eyes snapped to his, and Nico took a steadying breath. She really hadn’t known. All this time, he thought she must have, but held to her principles enough to turn away from it. 

“I’ve been in love with you since you left Halifax, too, Nico.” 

It was his turn for his breathing to hitch. “What?”

“I thought you didn’t like me like that.”

How was this possible? Nico felt like his knees were slowly turning to jelly. “How could you think that?” he croaked. 

“You never made a move,” she repeated. 

“You said you don’t date hockey players,” he defended. 

Hands fluttering up to cover her face, Lena shook her head. “I can’t believe this,” she said, a small laugh escaping. 

Reaching up, Nico gently encircled her wrists and pulled her hands away. She let them fall by her sides.

His heart was galloping in his chest. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, surprised to find his voice quieter than he meant it to be.

Lena nodded, a feeling as though she were about to jump out of a plane surging through her body. Something grand and beautiful waited for her if she could just put her faith in the parachute and step into the unknown. Well, partially unknown. She knew Nico, and she wasn’t afraid.

One of his hands drifted up to her face. Cupping her jaw, he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You’re so beautiful, Lena,” he said, glad to find his voice had evened out. 

For the first time, she recognized that look he was always giving her. That wide open, soft gaze. Love, she realized with a shock of understanding. It was love. It had been love this whole time. She really had been blind. 

Her eyes darted away as her cheeks flushed pink. “Thank you.” She wouldn’t lie, hearing it eased some of the anxiety in her chest.

He waited for her eyes to come back to his before leaning down. Heart hammering with six years of anticipation, their lips finally met.

When her head tipped slightly to the side and her mouth opened to him, a shock raced down his spine while a sigh filtered up his throat. The kiss was better than any fantasy his mind had concocted through the years.

His tongue tentatively slipped into her mouth, and Lena felt a flash flood of right, this is right, this is the most right thing that’s ever been right in my life, sweep through her. 

Her hands fluttered up to his shoulders, and she felt his, heavy on her waist, squeeze when her tongue slipped past his lips.

God, Nico was in paradise. This was the softest, most heavenly, love-filled kiss he’d ever experienced. How did people even find words for this? Sudden understanding sparked in the back of his mind. This was why people wrote sonnets and songs and books. He wanted to drown in this feeling.

Eager to see his face again, she eased back.

“This is okay?” he asked, eyes snapping to hers, worried she was having regrets.

Nodding, she leaned forward and slid her mouth over his. 

This kiss was slower, more passionate. When her teeth grazed his bottom lip, Nico felt electricity zing through him. 

His fingers ran into her hair to cradle the back of her head. 

There was no stopping the moan that filtered up her throat when he sucked on her tongue gently. 

Fuck, he loved that noise more than anything he’d ever heard. He wanted to hear it again, and again and again in every possible position and every possible circumstance.

All at once, the kiss was electric, the initial softness giving way to the chemistry and sexual tension that had been brewing between them for more than half a decade. Lena had never felt anything like it. It was exhilarating and somehow grounding in a way she’d never experienced, as if they were rooted together by their passion.

She wanted more of him. Her hands dove into his hair, noting the groan he let out when she pulled it lightly. 

Nico lifted her onto the counter. He wanted her closer than their standing position allowed. She wrapped her legs around his waist. It was exactly what he’d been hoping for.

He broke away and trailed his mouth to her jaw, eager to taste her skin.

“Nico,” her voice was a breathy little moan. 

He was a fool for not telling her sooner. God, he was such a fool. 

Her hand found his jaw and pulled his mouth back to hers with a simple, “more,” that nearly drove him out of his mind with the need to obey. 

Their teeth clicked, and she gigged. 

He loved this, too - getting her in all the ways, even the awkward ones. A laugh fell into her mouth, and it brought him back to himself. He wanted to savor this. There was no need to rush. She wasn’t going anywhere. 

Nico felt himself pout when she proved him wrong, and her lips broke from his. She stripped off her shirt, and before he could get his eyes on her, he felt her mouth connect to that soft spot under his jaw. How did she know?

“Lena,” he breathed. Her hands slid down his front, and the shock of her touch sent his skin to trembling. “Oh my God, Lena.”

She’d always loved the way he said her name, but this was something else. This was a song she would never get tired of, one she wanted to listen to again, and again, and again. 

Her mouth explored his throat, sucking his pulse point. His dedication to go slow dissolved a little with every brush of her tongue, every graze of her nose ring across his skin. 

His hands were suddenly everywhere. All over her back, cupping her butt to pull her to the edge of the counter so their hips could touch. 

Feeling the rigid length of him pressing between her legs turned Lena feral. She’d done this to him. She was doing this to him. Tightening her legs around him, she wanted to do so much more to him. 

Their hips ground together as his hands slipped to unhook her bra. “Okay?” 

“Yeah.” 

He fumbled with the clasps briefly before they gave way. 

Taking the garment at the center gore, she pulled it away from her body. A brief moment of chaos ensued as their arms tangled in the effort to get it away from her. Finally, she flung it over his shoulder and giggled when the metal bits clinked against the tile floor. 

Laughter split his face into the adorable, dimpled smile she loved so much before his gaze turned back to her. Even as the corners of his mouth remained turned up, his jaw slackened as his eyes blew wide. 

Dreams and reality crashed into each other, and Nico felt his breath rush from his lungs. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life. 

“Hase,” he said, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. It was a bit of a cutesy pet name, but his brain was too busy trying to soak in every detail of her he’d been so starved for to think of a new one. 

He murmured something under his breath in German, and Lena felt heat race to her core. She slid her hands into his hair in an attempt to pull him into a kiss, but he resisted, eyes still glued to her chest. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed, voice husky. 

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

He reached out, then paused, hands stopped in mid-air. “Can I?”

When his eyes flicked up to meet hers again, she lost her own breath. She was so used to seeing Nico’s expressive eyes wide with (what she knew now was) love, sparkling with mirth or drooped with disappointment. This…lust, different even from when he was posing with his pants undone, was new. Heat mixed with love and wonder. She’d never felt so desired. 

She nodded, finding her voice wasn’t where she left it. 

Nico was already throbbing against the zipper of his trousers, and cupping her breasts in his palms only made it worse. When she arched into his touch with a moan, it became damn near unbearable. 

Unable to wait any longer, he crashed his lips to hers as their hips surged together again. 

If he wasn’t careful, he was going to blow his load in his pants before he even got to feel her touch. Forcing himself to slow down, he concentrated on the weight of her breasts in his hands and the taste of her tongue in his mouth. 

She was the one who took it further, one of her hands slipping down his stomach to cup him over his fabric prison.

Now would be a horrible time to faint, he told himself, even as he felt his eyes rolling back and his hips pushing forward into her hand. He groaned against her lips. 

His mouth slid to her neck, and she shivered, feeling her nipples tighten more as his teeth scraped over her sensitive throat. 

He was hard and so hot, even through the fabric of his trousers. It suddenly wasn’t enough. Removing her other hand from his hair, she fumbled with the belt buckle. Finally managing to get it open, she asked, “this is okay?” 

“God, yes,” he moaned, hips restlessly moving against her hands. 

As she was tearing the zipper down, one of his hands slid toward the fastening of her own jeans. “Okay?” 

“Uh-hu.”

It was only after he flicked the button open and managed to pull the zipper that she realized she didn’t want to do this here. Not where, if she leaned back, her head would hit the cabinets, and not so close to where they prepared their food.

“Can we move to the couch?” she asked, breath in his ear.

Could they move to the couch? He would move them to the moon if she asked. 

Lightning fast, his hands were suddenly cradling her bum, hauling her off the counter so he could cary her to the living room. A surprised yelp escaped her at the sudden show of strength.

He had to wrench his eyes open so he wouldn’t dump them on the floor as she licked his jaw up to the lobe of his ear, which she nibbled gently. 

When they made it there, he tried to sit down still holding her, but only half managed it before he was falling the rest of the way. He didn’t mind her crashing on top of him. Feeling her chest pressed to his was a lifelong dream coming to fruition. 

She was moving so restlessly on top of him, hips grinding, it made him whimper. Her hands snaked between them again, this time to shove his pants down. 

They both pushed and tugged, and finally, he was free. 

She broke away to look at him, and he had a sudden, terrible worry she would be disappointed. He wasn’t the biggest guy, but he wasn’t too small — at least no one had told him so. 

“Oh, Nico,” Lena murmured, finally getting her hands on him. He was perfect. Thick and hard and searingly hot against her palm. 

“Lena,” he moaned, head tipping back against the couch cushions. Finally feeling her touch was incredible. Now really would be a terrible time to faint. 

She pulled her hand away briefly to spit into her palm, and he almost lost it, feeling like he could have come from the sight alone. 

As soon as she began to stroke him, he was done for. There was no coming back from this — though he couldn’t think of a reason why they would need to. 

His mouth dropped open, and his eyelids fluttered, attempting to keep looking into her face. The pleasure she was pulling out of him won out, and his eyes closed.

“Feels so good,” he groaned, his accent thickening as he spoke. He was going to lose his English next. 

It happened, and he started babbling in German. 

His voice was lower in his native tongue - it always had been. Lena felt her core flutter in anticipation. 

He repeated the same word several times like it was a question, but she didn't know what it meant. 

Nico opened his eyes and came back to himself enough to realize she didn't understand, and therefore couldn't do what he was begging her to. 

“Kiss,” he managed in English, unable to pull out the correct grammar. “Please, kiss.” 

Oh, that's what kush meant. In hindsight, it did sound a lot like kiss. 

When she caught his lips, Nico couldn't hold back a moan as her tongue licked into his mouth. He had imagined this so many times, but those fantasies didn't prepare him for the actual feel of her hands on him, or the sweet, warm taste of her mouth, as if she'd just eaten one of those cinnamon sweets she liked so much. 

Pleasure sparked and fizzed across his skin.

Jesus, this was better than anything he’d ever felt. Was this what six years of longing and anticipation did? Deciding it didn’t matter, he pushed the thought aside and let his whole mind be consumed by her soft hand, her incredible tongue, and the knowledge that this was actually happening. This was happening for real. He wasn’t going to jolt awake in a few minutes with a boner so hard it hurt. 

“Lena,” he groaned into her mouth. 

She pulled away just enough to whisper against his lips, “what do you need?” 

Everything. He needed everything. “You,” he said instead. 

“I’m here,” she said, pulling at his length with a little more fervor. 

His hips pumped up into her hand, desperate for release. 

“Lena, I’m…” he couldn’t even get the words out before he was exploding. 

She moaned along with him, drinking in the pleasure that washed over his face - his fluttering lashes and panting mouth. 

Closing his eyes, Nico tried to compose himself. The sight of his release splattered over her breasts might actually make him faint. 

She kept going with slower, gentler strokes until he winced, then gently pulled her hand away. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice deep and satisfied.  

She giggled. 

God, he couldn’t even move. Her mouth was back at his neck, and he breathed out a curse in German. 

“Is that good or bad?” she asked into his skin. 

“So good.” He needed to teach her so he wouldn’t have to explain. “Wanna make you feel good, too,” he said instead of launching into a lesson in German swearing.  

Lifting her mouth from his neck, she looked down at him. 

God, he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. “You’re so handsome, Nico,” she whispered, tracing a thumb over one of his bushy eyebrows. 

He flushed. 

“I’ve thought about what you look like when you’re coming so many times,” she said, tracing over his cheekbone this time. 

“You have?” he squeaked. 

She nodded. “And it was so beautiful.” 

“I have too,” he admitted, slowly sliding his hand up her thigh. “Can I see it?”

Biting her lip, she nodded. 

Even as he was working his hand into her underwear, his other was coming up to her face and gently thumbing her bottom lip out from under her teeth.

“Show me how to make you come,” he said, eyes boring into hers. 

Shit, she might just fall apart from that look alone. 

Rising onto her knees, she shoved her pants and underwear down to give them easier access. His fingers slipped between her lips, and she moaned, pressing toward them.  

“I don’t really get off from penetration,” she said, “I like it, but it won’t make me orgasm, so it’s all about the clit for me.”

Sliding his fingers back from her entrance, he searched for that little nub. “Here?” he asked when he thought he’d found it. 

Reaching down, she moved him where she needed him, so the pads of his fingers were making direct contact. “Here,” she breathed, guiding him to circle over and around her pearl.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and he devoured the pleasure that flowed over her face. 

“I like this, too,” she said, moving his fingers into a V so they traced on either side. 

He started a pattern from her instructions — circling and stroking, then splitting as he pulled back. 

“You can press harder,” she moaned softly.

He did, and her hips stuttered into his touch. 

“Can you…” she trailed off, feeling suddenly shy. She’d never asked a man for this before. Then again, this was Nico. He’d taken every other instruction to heart and was touching her exactly the way she wanted. She knew he would at least try.

“Anything,” he rasped, “tell me.”

Hips seeking, she moaned and loved that he was so willing to please her. She could see it in the way he was watching her — this eager, desperate look in his eyes, full of wonder and desire and so much need. 

“Can you suck my nipples?” she finally whispered. 

Growling something affirmative, he leaned in and drew one of the tender buds between his lips. 

Her voice keened, and her hand flew into his hair to cradle him to her chest, “use your tongue,” she instructed, then moaned, “yes, Nico,” when he laved over the sensitive peak. 

He was so turned on by her. By her confidence in knowing what she wanted and that she trusted him enough to tell him. Not to mention the way his name was panting out of her mouth.

Her back arched, pushing her hips into his hand and her breast into his mouth.

If Nico had known pleasing a woman could come with instructions like this, it would have changed his whole life.

He moved to the other breast, almost suckling at the tender bud. 

“Fuck, Nico,” she moaned, “feels so good.” 

“Show me how to take you there.” 

“Put your fingers inside me.”

He obeyed even though he didn’t know how he’d stroke her clit now. Just as he was getting ready to detach his other hand from her breast, she guided his wrist so the heel of his hand pressed into her.

“Nico,” she moaned as pleasure flooded her system. Her hips ground into his hand. He felt incredible. God, was this what she’d been missing every time a man asked what she wanted and then did what they wanted anyway?

Her next words fell apart just as she did, turning as nonsensical as her rhythm.

Even watching the pleasure roll over her face didn’t prepare him for the feeling of her coming. He'd never felt anything like it. Her muscles clenched in quick succession, fluttering around his fingers. Fuck. If she did this around his cock? He might die. 

All at once, the pleasure surging through her snapped, and she collapsed against him. 

Nico eased his fingers from her and eased them up to his mouth, eyes rolling back at the first taste of her. He couldn’t wait to get his mouth on her. 

Before he could suggest they move to the bedroom, she was curling against him and tucking her face into his neck. Her breathing slowed. It was late - well past her usual bedtime, and Nico knew how a good orgasm could relax his body right to sleep if he was already tired. 

“I love you,” she whispered into his neck. 

A thrill zinged through him. “I love you, too,” he said, stroking a hand up her spine. 

Upon waking, the first thing Lena noticed was that her breasts were bare, nipples puckered so tightly in the chilly morning air that they ached. Somehow, though, the rest of her wasn’t cold. 

Trying to roll over, she ran into a solid body behind her. 

The night before came crashing back. Nico posing for her before admitting he loved her. He loved her! Part of her still couldn’t believe it. She smiled, remembering the incredible way he looked falling apart beneath her before he teased the most incredible orgasm she’d ever had from her body. So incredible, she’d fallen asleep right in his lap. He must have moved them into this spooning position on the couch rather than moving her into her own bed. 

Her phone trilled again. That’s what had woken her. Where was it? It sounded nearby.

Nico mumbled something and tightened his arms around her when she tried to get up. 

When it rang for the third time, she realized it wasn’t ringing at all - it was her alarm. She needed to get up. As much as she wanted to just stay here and recreate the night before again and again and again, something Nico wouldn’t have minded if his hot length currently pressing into her back was any indication, she couldn’t. She had to show Professor Brown her sketches, and she had a painting to turn in in her post modernism class.

“Nico, I have to get up,” she said, lifting his arm from around her waist. Her chest was itchy from where his cum had dried on her skin. 

“Nonig,” he mumbled, pulling her back into him. 

“Yes.”

Finally managing to extract herself, she immediately fell off the couch. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice still thick with sleep.

God, he was adorable waking up. Mussed hair and heavy lidded eyes. 

Nico didn’t want this moment to end. It couldn’t. It was too good. He watched, amused, as she tripped over her pants before tearing them down her legs and kicking them them off before she stumbled into the kitchen.

She finally found her phone — she’d left it on the counter — and cursed when she saw the time. She didn’t even have time to shower. 

He groaned a pleasant curse in his native tongue and rolled onto his back, stretching his arms over his head. Sleeping on the couch was definitely not going to help him in the game tonight. 

He sat up abruptly. “What time?” he called.

“It’s 9:05. I have to go to class.” she said, debating if she should just pull her jeans on and go. No, if she couldn’t shower, she at least needed to change. 

He cursed again,  jumping to his feet. This was not how he wanted the morning after to go. He wanted to make her breakfast in bed and ravish her again before he had to leave. Now, he had to rush. Practice started in 30 minutes, and it would take him 20 to get to the rink.

He ran to his bedroom and stopped short. There was a suitcase next to his dresser. He’d forgotten he was heading out on a road trip. 

Running his hands into his hair, he wondered how this could have happened. He would have to be at the arena before she got home from class, and then they would leave from there to catch their flight to Florida. He finally got her, and he had to leave. This was the worst morning after he could have imagined. 

Attempting to run down the hall and pull on her chucks at the same time probably wasn’t the best plan, but Lena needed to see him before he left. She wouldn’t see him again for six whole days. Stumbling, she crashed through his doorway just in time to watch him pulling on a new pair of underwear. She finally got her other shoe on before she stood up, pushing her hair out of her face. 

He turned to her, and she lost her breath. She’d seen him naked, and he still did this to her. 

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” she said quietly. 

He didn’t hesitate to stride to her, take her face in his hands, and kiss her deeply, like he’d wanted to for so many years. He was never giving up the opportunity again. 

Gathering her against him, he broke the kiss in favor of burying his face in her hair. “I wish this morning was different.”

“I know, I do, too. But I’ll be here when you get back,” she assured, running her hands down his back. At the tail end of her stroke, she let her fingers curve in so her nails traced over his skin. 

He pulled back to look into her eyes, cheeks dimpling. 

A smile spread over her face, and she leaned up to brush her lips over his, “I’ll see you on Thursday.” 

He nodded. 

“Good luck,” she said, kissing him again, “I love you.” 

Maybe this morning wasn’t so bad after all. “I love you, too.” 

The smile she gave him made him want to move mountains. 

“Thank you again,” she said, leaning in to kiss him one more time. 

“For what?” he called after her as she ran down the hall. 

“For everything,” she called back. “For all of it.” 

It Doesn't Matter:

Part I | Part II | Part III | Playlist

To read all my fics, check out my Fanfiction Masterlist

[myboipotterimagines]

Golden Pt. 5 - Weasley Twins x Reader

Hi everyone! Thank you for all the support on the last few chapters. I have really enjoyed writing this fanfic, and I hope y'all like reading it. This is probably my favorite one yet. Enjoy!

Again, 18+, minors dni. Love you all. <3

Other parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

George had decided that he would, in fact, be joining you in Hogsmeade. He wasted no time in getting ready, clearly not wanting to leave you alone with his twin for any longer. For someone who didn't care about you, he sure was fucking jealous.

Leaving the shop hit you with the truth of reality like a brick to the chest. Diagon Alley was desolate and destroyed, the shop one of the only businesses still in operation. You clung to Fred. "He's growing stronger, isn't he?" you asked, though even you knew it wasn't a question so much as a statement. Fred leaned down to kiss your temple. "I'm afraid so. But nothing will happen to you while you're with us." "With Fred, at least," George smirked, moving to the front of the charge. "I'm more of an every man for himself type of guy." Fred rolled his eyes. "Ignore him." He laced his fingers into yours and for a moment, your heart stopped beating. A coy smile took its place on your lips as you looked up to find a matching one on his.

"So what all do we need in Hogsmeade?" you finally asked as you walked to the edge of Diagon Alley. A group of wizards had set up an anti-apparition barrier within the streets of the town, hoping to increase its protection against Dark Magic. The borders were patrolled, which did a little to ease your anxiety.

"As much as I love seeing you in my clothes, I think it's time you get some of your own," Fred laughs, his words bringing a blush to your cheeks. "I have also decided to turn our office into a temporary bedroom for you, until you feel more comfortable in ours."

Your heart jumped again. Every so often, ,you would forget that these two were your soulmates, not just a new relationship. Eventually you would all share a bedroom, and a bed, and a life. Your future was as intertwined as your fingers. George finally looked back at the two of you, glancing for only a moment at your hands, then back ahead of him.

"We're at the edge," he said firmly. "I'll apparate us." He reached out one hand to his brother, then one to you. The same pulse of energy ran through you as you touched. You were completely wrapped around the finger of the two, and unsure if it was exciting or terrifying.

The village of Hogsmeade was still as beautiful as it had always been. Since it was an inhabited city of wizards, it was harder to vandalize unnoticed.

"I'll go get the bedroom furniture," George said, immediately dropping your hand. He was gone before anyone could protest. Fred barely noticed, taking a moment to pull you into him, kissing your forehead lightly. "Let's go get you some clothes, love."

Fred made sure you had clothes for every occasion, but your eyes always drifted to the dresses on the racks. He insisted that you needed every one you tried on, eyes raking your body with each new fabric. He even went so far as to outfit you with a slinky silk nightdress that he had adored. If it hadn't fallen slightly past your bum, he would've insisted you go home in it. Instead, he picked out a soft red sundress for you to wear the rest of the day. By the time you were finished, Fred's hands were full of bags, and George was waiting outside.

"Did the princess do some damage in there?" George asked with a smirk. Your own face dropped at his use of your nickname - the one he had only used as his hands had fucked you. "She wouldn't have needed so much if we hadn't basically kidnapped her," Fred laughed. "Where's all the shit you were supposed to get?" "Delivered and assembled," he smiled. "I go above and beyond, dear brother." Fred rolled his eyes. "Let me drop this off and we can grab dinner at the Three Broomsticks. Could you two get us a table without killing each other?" You smiled. "I think we can manage." You placed a kiss on Fred's cheek before he apparated away.

"How long are you going to wait to tell him that I've been inside of you?" You groaned. "I don't know, George. You'll be happy to know you've put me in quite the fucking predicament. So I'm sure you're bloody elated." "He can't be too mad, considering you're fucking him, too." All of the color drained from your face as you stopped in your tracks. You took a moment to regain your composure. "I am. He's my soulmate and he's fucking nice to me." You took a step closer to George. "I would do anything for him." George took a step closer to you, closing the distance between you, before leaning down to whisper in your ear. "I didn't even have to be nice to get you to open your legs." You spun to slap him, but he caught your hand, holding it tightly within his grasp. "No need for violence, princess. Unless that's what you like."

Upon arriving at the Three Broomsticks, the two of you took a booth at the back of the restaurant, George slipping in beside of you. "You really have to sit next to me?" you asked. "Unfortunately. The only thing worse than sitting next to you is sitting across from you and having to look into your eyes the whole evening. I'll leave Fred that torture." "Fred actually likes me, George. Even though you seem hellbent on stopping him from doing so." "It takes two to tango, sweetheart. You know as well as I do that you wanted last night to happen. Probably can't wait for it to happen again." "You're the one who came onto me. You wanted it as much as I did."

George shifted in his seat to look you straight in the eye. As he did, he snaked his hand under your dress and up the middle of your thighs, only stopping at your core. You squirmed from his touch, but his thumb found its way to your clit and his index to your already soaking entrance. He leaned in to your ear, using his free hand to push back your hair. "Like I said, seems like you can't wait for it to happen again." You pushed him off of you, face only reddening as he took his fingers into his mouth to clean them off. "Mm, sweet as honey, princess."

"What is?" Fred asked, sliding across from the two of you. "George what the hell did you do to her?" he added upon seeing your reddened face. "I didn't do anything, Freddie. The poor thing is just embarrassed she's never had Butterbeer." "Never?" Fred asked. You shook your head - a lie, but it would do. "Didn't think I'd like it."

Fred immediately jumped into action, ordering a round of Butterbeer to go with your meals. Hopefully you feigned surprise well when you tasted it for the 'first time'. Fred seemed to buy it, at least. George tried to ignore you the entire evening.

He was successful until you arrived home. "Let me show you your bedroom," he called, not checking to see if you were following before he started walking away. Your bedroom was on the first floor of the shop, nestled cozily in the back. Though the room wasn't very big, George had managed to fit a bed, dresser, and desk into the space. Fred had already spelled your clothes away, filling in the new dresser. "This is incredible. Thank -" you turned to thank George, but he was already gone. Your blood grew hot - he was not going to humiliate you and then ignore you for the rest of the evening. He was going to fucking pay.

At the very top of one of your drawers held the black silk dress. You quickly stripped into nothing but the nightdress, letting your hair fall loose on your shoulders to accompany it. It was beautiful, and you needed to thank Fred for getting it for you.

You didn't bother with a robe or slippers as you ascended the staircase to the twins' room. You knocked on the already opened doorframe, grabbing the attention of Fred first. "Holy shit," he murmured, taking in your body like he was seeing it for the first time. You entered their room, noting George's agape mouth as you moved. "I just wanted to thank you both for putting my room together. I'm the luckiest girl on the planet to have you," you said, smiling at Fred.

"I'm the lucky one," Fred murmured, fingers slipping up and down your frame. "You're so fucking beautiful." You kissed him tenderly, heart melting at his words. "I love you, Fred," you whispered, words leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

George pulled the two of you apart. "All right, get the fuck out of here and go to bed." "What the fuck, George?" Fred asked. "She's clearly drunk, Fred! She needs to go the fuck to bed." "No, I'm not!" you protested. "I had like two Butterbeers." "Apparently, you're a lightweight, then." You looked at Fred to back you up, but his face was downturned. "Your face is super flushed, love. Maybe you should get some rest." "I'll make sure she gets downstairs, then she's on her own. Tomorrow is a big day for all of us and I need a fucking shower." "Goodnight, love," Fred called. "Goodnight, Fred," you frowned. "I do love you." His expression didn't change.

As soon as you were in your room, George locked the door behind you and cast a silencing spell on the room. "I am not drunk, George. What the hell is wrong with you?" "What the hell is wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with you? You clearly came up there to try and seduce me. And then you tell Fred you fucking love him? He is not a tool to fucking abuse."

You threw a pillow at him, which he wordlessly deflected. "Not everything is about you!" you yell. "I do love him! More than anything," you voice quiets with each word. You draw in a shaky breath as you lower onto the bed.

George walks over to you, holding your chin in his hands. His eyes glare daggers into yours. "I don't believe you." Your gaze doesn't break. "I don't need you to." "I'll tell him. Everything." "And what is 'everything', exactly? That you fingered me? That you want to fuck me? That you need me as much as I need you?" His grip tightened, pulling you to your feet. "I do not need you. I don't even fucking want you."

In one swift motion, you reversed your spots, pushing George onto the bed. He stared up at you as you held your fingertips to his chest, holding him in place. "For someone who doesn't want me, you seem to spend a lot of time inside of me." He laughed. "Because you're fucking easy. It didn't even take a full day to get with you. It didn't take two before you were with both of us."

You pushed him back farther onto the bed, straddling him. "I think you're the easy one, Georgie. If I was so easy, I would've made you cum instead of your brother." "Fuck you," he snarls, grabbing a handful of your hair. "If you'd like," you retort, grinding your already wet cunt against him. He's clearly hard underneath of you, despite the layers of clothing separating him from you. "Fucking slut," he groans, wrapping an arm around your back to support your position. "I'll stop if you want me to," you repeat his own words back to him. "But I don't think you want me to."

"Fuck," he groaned. "I need you right fucking now." His nails dug through your slinky dress and into the skin underneath, pulling you as close to him as he could. "Thought you didn't want me, Georgie? Now you need me?" you mocked, slowing your hips to almost a stop. George brought his hands to your hips, moving you against him once more. Your core ignited, but you held your moans.

George did not hold his. His teeth sank into your neck, leaving bite marks and kisses from your hairline to your clavicle. When he bit into your earlobe, your first moan escaped your lips. "There you go, baby girl, let it out." His fingers moved from your waist to your cunt, tracing your entrance. "So wet for me already," he laughed. His lips returned to your ear. "Let me take care of you."

You slowed to a stop once more, taking in the labored breathing and flushed face of the man before you. "What happened to every man for himself?" You leaned into his neck, whispering in his ear. "I'm not letting someone fuck me who wouldn't protect me from a Death Eater."

His face grows hard as you stand from him. Before you can exit the room, he pulls you onto the bed, pinning your hands. On instinct, your legs kick at him with all your might, causing him to straddle you to restrain you. "You don't have to fuck me, princess. But, you will know that I would protect you with my last fucking breath. I would lay down my life to save yours. So you can go to Fred to satisfy your needs, but you will not go under the impression that I would ever betray you."

After a moment, he frees your hands, which immediately latch onto his shoulders and pull him into you. For the first time, your lips meet, starving for touch. George can't get close enough to you, holding you by the waist and hair, locking your body against his. You begin reaching for the seam of his jeans, but he grabs your wrists with one hand and holds them over your head, using the other to hold open your legs as he sinks into your pussy. A moan rips through you as he licks stripes up and down your core, taking particular interest in your clit. He moans as he devours you, eliciting another string of moans and curses from your lips.

You cry out when he pulls away, devastatingly close to orgasm. "You taste so good, baby girl, but I need to feel you cum on my cock. Do you want that?" You nod, but he shakes his head. "I need words, princess." "Yes, please." With a wave of his hand, the rest of his clothes were gone. Even though he had seen most of your body, you had seen none of his. You drank in the sight of him, memorizing every curve of his body like it was the last time you'd ever see it. He lined himself up at your entrance, the contact alone making you moan. "You ready?" he asks. "Please," you beg, your body aching for his.

He pushes in slow, a mixture of his moans and yours filling the room. "You feel so fucking good," he finally says once he's bottomed out. You smile up at him, too fucked to say any actual words. "So fucking beautiful with my cock in you, princess." He thrusts into you again, pulling moans from your mouth like a prayer. His pace quickens to a breakneck speed, bringing you right to the edge of orgasm once more. "I'm gonna-" you start, before a new wave of moans leave your lips as his thumb connects with your clit. "Cum, baby girl. Come for me."

Once again, his words send you over the edge, orgasm exploding through you like a bomb. Your moans turn into screams of his name as you ride out the orgasm. Your cunt spasms from the aftershock, drawing out George's orgasm, spilling himself into you. Without a word, he spells away his seed, leaving you empty of him. You groan at his absence, but he lays beside you and pulls you into his chest. You burrow deep into him, inhaling his scent. His fingers trail patterns on your back, leaving only goosebumps in their wake.

No one speaks for ages, and you were sure George was asleep before he whispers three words. "I love you."

Tears fill your eyes as guilt fills your heart. "I love you, too."

***

Okay, I hope you all love this chapter because I loved writing it!! We will unfortunately have some angst coming up, but I promise to make up for it with a ton of fluff! Let me know how you're liking the story so far and if you would like added to the taglist! I try to add everyone who asks, and I am very sorry if I forget anyone!

Taglist (sorry if I miss anyone): @rk-ceres @foji2000 @hazilyss, @f-e-222 @luthien-elvenia-asher @trashy-panda777 @rhunew @crossedskulls @shadowmoonlight0604 @mochiseni @jenniferpendragon @fonderaura @pyromaniac-fairy-of-water @theveiledlibrarian, @xmadigurlx, @maxsisly, @meg-cal, @ivseceret

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Can you do a touya/Dabi fic with shotos twin sister and just had one quirk which was fire so she was tossed aside so she resented her dad and somehow she met dabi/touya and he made her his little spy but she also desperately clings to him at times when she reports to him and stays close since she never got that affection (Btw for outfits she usually wears tank tops and bootcut jeans) please and thank you

Warnings: sorry this took forever for me to get out, been meaning to get to it cuz i miss writing for dabi x todoroki!reader, tons of trigger warnings, sibling incest, siblingxsibling relationships, betrayal, manipulation, resentment, overall dark themes, dysfunctional todoroki family ft, mind the tags, don't read if you don't like the subject matter 🖤

Inhaling deeply before letting out a slow, steady, breath, you pull open the large front door of Endeavor's agency. You could survive a few hours in the presence of your father. Or rather, lingering in the background like the little ghost you were.

No one would dare to say it out loud, but everyone and their mother knew you were the spare twin compared to your slightly older brother Shoto. He was the pride and joy of the Todoroki family, unlike you. At first you believed it to be unfair. You were in the womb at the same time as him. Why didn't you get a ice and fire quirk?

Was it really because he was the first born? That couldn't be it.

Your white flames, while hotter than even your father's, did little to impress him.

You didn't turn any heads when you enter your father's personal floor of his agency's building. This task was easy. Stealing information and sending it to your older brother and his crew became a normal thing for you.

"See, I told you we should have her around." Dabi argued in your defense while caressing the side of your face. "She's a good girl who listens to her big brother, aren't you?" Some would call his tone degrading. You felt the tenderness in his hand though as it delicately angled your face upward so he could look into your mismatched eyes. One the hue of a storm in the sky, the other the color of a raging sea. That’s what Dabi always said before you closed your eyes to go to bed.

Shigaraki and the rest of the League were less thrilled about you being anywhere near them. While you weren't popular like your father or Shoto, many still knew your face. Having you around could be more of a risk than the League were willing to pay.

You just wanted to make him happy, to keep his eyes solely on you. If it involved betraying the other members of your family (including your twin brother Shoto) then so be it. You would let Dabi’s words consume you entirely, making you his mindless slave.

The rest of the League members could chalk it up to Dabi simply using sweet words to manipulate you. He didn’t care about anything. Especially his family. What made you different?

Now that was a secret that Dabi would not utter. His praise filled words were genuine when it came to you and Dabi would be damned if he had to give you up again because of Tomura. He'd make sure you'd make yourself indispensable to the League. They'd have to let you stay.

You were just as determined as Dabi was to keep your place. You hated to even pretend to be under allegiance to your father or any superhero for that matter. They'd always looked down on you for not being like Shoto. Never being enough for them or their world. But you were enough for Dabi.

Slipping the flashdrive up your sleeve, you leave just as you had arrived: unseen. Just in case the cameras hidden throughout the building were focused on you, you'd nonchalantly picked up some of your father's paperwork in appearance of tidying up his workspace like the good daughter you were.

It made you sick to your stomach thinking that not too long ago, all you'd ever wanted was Endeavor's attention and approval. Shoto suppressed his fire ability for years, associating it with his abusive father so you thought you had a shot. You spent hours upon hours practicing with your flames to make them hotter and hotter and finally to where they could melt anything and everything. Leaving not even ash behind.

When you hand Shigaraki the flashdrive, he grudgingly accepts it with a stiff nod. He didn't want to admit that you were providing them incredibly valuable information that all other villain groups lacked.

He ignores Dabi's smug grin as he slung his arm around your shoulder, giving the top of your head a peck. "Knew you could do it." His brings his hand up for his fingers to brush against your cheek.

You felt it again.

The world stopping and all breath departing from your lungs. You wanted Dabi to brand you with his palm, to use his blue flames and scorch your skin so you would always have a piece of him.

Then Dabi leans down, lips caressing the shell of your ear and in his husky tone he calls you "Good girl."

Blushing and highly aware of how Dabi simply towered over you, you shyly duck your head. "Ha. . . it was nothing."

Everyone learned to simply avert their attention when Dabi's affections for you walked on the razor's edge of what was appropriate.

You'd proven to be their perfect spy. Shigaraki couldn't wait to see you in actual battle. That would really be the test of your usefulness.

[vernons-girl]

hi! yeah um i.. read ur newest fic 'not her' with kmg and i kind of wanted to add a continuation to that...? (only if u want to ofc!)

so basically reader got her heart broken by mingyu and her sister, soooo she goes on and vents her feelings and how heart broken she is to another one of her pals, seungcheol (without knowing seungcheol likes reader) so he comforts her and u can probably add the ending (fluff or angst or anything!)

im sorry this is too long.. i rlly tried to make it shorter lmao (btw i LUV ur fics so much)

not her | kim mingyu - choi seungcheol pt.2

PART 1 ; PART 2 ; PART 3 (final)

angst, fluff,wc:2.5k

taglist: @gaslysainz ; @graybaeismytae ; @mansaaay

a/n: did i completely put mingyu aside in this part? yes. will i make a part three where we really dive into the drama with everyone kdrama love triangle way? you guys tell me hehe

You couldn't bear looking at the scene that was unfolding in front of your eyes so you gathered your stuff in a hurry and left, completely forgetting the idea of shopping for a new outfit.

You made it home in record time. Rushing to lock yourself in your room once you made it through the door.

Mingyu choosing someone else than you was one thing, but your sister going behind your back to betray you, after you had confided in her? That was a whole other thing.

You couldn't help but cry as soon as you found yourself alone in the comfort of your room. You were feeling too many things at the same time and couldn't quite pinpoint why you were crying. Was it the pain? The anger? The disappointment? The heartbreak? Maybe it was all of it at once.

You couldn't bare the idea of having to face any of them about the issue right now, let alone having to see your sister when she would get back home, so you did the first thing that came to mind : you packed an overnight bag, texted your most trustful friend and headed over to his place.

You reached Seungcheol's place about an hour after you had texted him. You hadn't told him much over text, actually you hadn't told him anything besides 'can i come spend the night?' to which he agreed, of course, he didn't need to know why you needed to spend the night over at his place when you had a perfectly decent bed of your own, he just agreed without any further questions.

He greeted you at the door with a worried look on his face that he couldn't conceal no matter how hard he tried. You've confided in him before, but never did it feel so worrying. Without a second thought, he pulled you inside with a hug. The action broke down all the walls you had tried to build on your way there instantly. You felt as if you were falling apart in his arms, melting in his embrace perhaps, and you let the tears stream down your face, not caring about the embarrassing whines coming out of your mouth as you did so. He didn't seem to care either. Because all he did was hold you, closely, firmly but carefully, rubbing soothing circles on your back, shushing you like one would do with a baby. But it all felt so right amongst all the chaos around you that you let yourself be in the moment, until he pulled you straight on your feet to lead you to the living room, "Come on, let's talk about this around a warm drink, yeah?" he said, trying his best to show off a reassuring smile.

You obliged and sat down on the couch as Seungcheol got some snacks ready along with something to drink. In the meantime you allowed yourself to relax, sunking down onto the couch wishing it could somehow swallow you whole.

Thankfully, Seungcheol joined you pretty quickly so you didn't have the time to get lost in your thoughts once again. You straightened up to grab the cup he was handing out to you from the tray he had placed on the coffee table in front of you.

"Sooooo..." Seungcheol started, he didn't want to push you into it but he still needed to at least have an idea of what was going on.

You took a sip of your drink followed by a deep breath.

"So... I had a crush on this guy, and I genuinely thought that he could like me, you know?" you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes once again.

"And I wasn't the only one thinking this.. my sister thought so too." Seungcheol now had a curious look and urged you to keep going.

"I was supposed to meet up with him in a few days and I really wanted to confess, I really did." this time, the tears fell from your eyes, you couldn't help it, it was so fresh, so hard, your body needed to express this unbearable inner pain it was feeling.

Seungcheol offered some comfort with his free hand coming to rub up and down your arm, "We don't have to talk about it any more if you don't feel like it," he reassured you.

"No, it's okay, you affirmed, so, you started again, I wanted to make things right, I wanted to impress him, to make him like me any more than he might already do, so I went to the mall to do some shopping, a sob escaped from your dry lips, but then I saw them, him, her" you sniffled, letting out shaky breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down.

"Them ? Him? Her?" Seungcheol asked.

"My crush and my sister" you finally said, your heart breaking a little more. The look on your friend's face changed to... confusion?

"Wait so you saw your sister with your crush at the mall? What about it?

- They were kissing, Seungcheol. Kissing."

Upon hearing this last word, his expression morphed to anger in a matter of seconds.

"What the fuck?!" he suddenly exclaimed, almost slamming his mug down onto the table.

"She kissed him knowing you liked him? This is so twisted. I can't believe it." He let out in disbelief, rubbing a hand down his face.

"And he didn't tell me either. He never told me he was seeing someone. What if she told him about my crush on him and they both fucked me over? you put your face in both on your hands, crying softly, What am I supposed to do now Seungcheol?" you questioned desperately, almost pleading him for an answer.

He leaned back in his seat, looking up in thought.

"Who is he?" he finally asked.

"Who's who?" okay maybe it wasn't the best idea to play dumb, but how could you tell him that Mingyu, your friend who also happens to be one of Seungcheol's, broke your heart ?

"The guy, he said firmly, who's the guy?" ok so now he wasn't playing. You've never seen him look this serious before, the concern and anger still obvious on his face.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the worst when you breathed out : "Mingyu."

He clenched his fists upon hearing the name leave your shaky lips. As a matter of fact, his whole body tensed.

"So you saw Mingyu kissing your sister who knew you liked Mingyu ?" he summarized.

"Yeah.." you confirmed, your gaze lingering on the floor, the carpet curiously looking much more interesting than you friend who was sitting across from you.

"Does she know ? he asked

-Mh?

-Your sister. Does she know you saw them ?

-No, they didn't see me and I came over before she got home, so we didn't talk about it.

-And do you think he knew?

-Knew what ?

-That you liked him ?

-I don't know.. I don't think so, you reasoned, he would never be so cruel. you affirmed

-Yeah, you're probably right.." Seungcheol agreed, even though he wanted nothing but to punch his dear friend in the face for hurting you, he also knew it wasn't his style to hurt people's feelings. I mean this guy literally apologized to his last girlfriend for breaking up with her so of course he wasn't going to hurt one of his closest friends.

Seungcheol sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "This is a messed up situation, no doubt about it," he muttered, his expression reflecting a mixture of concern and anger.

You nodded, feeling a bit of relief knowing Seungcheol was there to listen, even if he couldn't magically fix everything. It was nice knowing there was at least one person you could trust in this whole mess.

After a moment of silence, Seungcheol leaned forward, taking both of your hands in his, his eyes fixed on you. "Listen, I know it hurts like hell right now, but you're stronger than this. I'm not going to tell you to not think about it because I know it feels impossible right now but you need to focus on yourself, okay ?

- Yeah.. you replied.

- What do you need right now?"

You thought for a moment, wiping away the tears that still lingered. "I just... I need some time to figure things out. Away from all of this," you said, gesturing vaguely around you.

Seungcheol nodded in understanding. "Alright. I get it. You can stay here as long as you need. I'll be here for you, okay?"

You managed a weak smile, feeling a sliver of hope, "Thank you, Seungcheol. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He smiled back, a reassuring presence in the middle of all of this turmoil. "You don't have to figure it all out right now. Just take it one step at a time. And remember, you're not alone in this." he finally said, giving your hands a reassuring squeeze.

And as you glanced over at Seungcheol, you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest, realizing just how much he truly cared for you. Perhaps, in the midst of all this chaos, there was a silver lining after all—a silver lining named Seungcheol.

"Come on, let's get you settled in bed, yeah?" he said, standing up and offering his hand out for you to take. You did so and followed him down the hallway.

As Seungcheol led you to the spare bedroom where you would be spending the night, he couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling inside him. On one hand, he was glad to be able to offer you a comfortable place to rest after everything you'd been through. But on the other hand, he couldn't shake the pang of jealousy he felt at the thought of you sleeping under the same roof in a bed that wasn't his.

As he pulled back the covers and fluffed the pillows, he tried to push aside those selfish thoughts. After all, what mattered most was that you were safe and comfortable. But as he glanced over at you, he couldn't help but notice how beautiful you looked in the soft light of the bedside lamp, your eyes heavy with exhaustion yet still so full of resilience.

"Here you go," he said, gesturing to the bed. "I hope you'll be comfortable here."

You offered him a grateful smile as you sank down onto the mattress, letting out a contented sigh. "Thank you, Seungcheol. I really appreciate it."

He returned your smile, trying to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat at the sound of your voice. "Of course. Anything for you."

As he turned to leave the room, he couldn't help but linger for a moment, his gaze lingering on your sleeping form. In that moment, he realized just how much he cared about you—more than just a friend, more than just a crush. And as he quietly closed the door behind him, he made a silent promise to himself to always be there for you, no matter what.

As you settled into the comfortable bed Seungcheol had prepared for you, your mind started to buzz with thoughts of the events that had unfolded earlier. Despite your exhaustion, sleep eluded you as you thought about your sister's and Mingyu's betrayal. A notification from your phone interrupted your thoughts, a message from your sister asking where I was, seemingly worried as to what you were up to. Against you better judgment, you decided to ignore it for the moment as you let out a heavy sigh and turned your attention to Seungcheol.

He had been so kind and supportive throughout the evening, offering you a safe haven and a shoulder to lean on. His actions spoke volumes, and somehow you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more behind his gestures. The way he looked at you, the tenderness in his voice—it all hinted at a deeper connection between you. And as you drifted off into a restless sleep, you couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps Seungcheol's feelings for you ran deeper than mere friendship.

After ensuring that the spare bedroom was tidy and comfortable for you, Seungcheol made my way to the living room to clean up the mess from earlier. As he picked up discarded snack wrappers and empty mugs, his mind also ended up wandering to the events of the evening.

He couldn't shake the anger and frustration he felt towards Mingyu for hurting you, someone he cared deeply about. And yet, amidst the chaos, he couldn't deny the flutter of hope that sparked within him at the thought of being there for you, of being the one you turned to in her time of need.

As he finished cleaning up, he reached for his phone and sent a quick text to Mingyu, his fingers hesitating over the keys. Despite his anger towards him, a part of him couldn't help but wonder if this was his chance to finally confess his feelings to you. But as he stared at the blank screen, he couldn't bring myself to send the message. Instead, he pocketed his phone and made his way back to the spare bedroom, his heart heavy with uncertainty and longing.

As Seungcheol lay in bed, the weight of the evening's events heavy on his mind, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the situation than met the eye.

As he mulled over the possibilities, a nagging thought tugged at the corners of his mind. What if Mingyu wasn't entirely clueless about your feelings? What if, somehow, he had sensed your affection for him, even if you hadn't explicitly confessed it?

The idea seemed far-fetched at first, but the more Seungcheol thought about it, the more it made sense. Mingyu was perceptive, after all, and he had always been attentive to the people around him. Perhaps he had noticed the subtle glances, the lingering touches, the way your face lit up whenever you were near him.

But if Mingyu was aware of your feelings, why would he pursue a relationship with your sister? Was it out of genuine interest, or was there something more sinister at play? Seungcheol couldn't shake the feeling that there was a piece of the puzzle missing, something lurking beneath the surface that he couldn't quite grasp.

As he drifted off to sleep, his mind buzzing with unanswered questions, Seungcheol's thoughts inevitably turned to you. Despite the troubles of the evening, one thing remained clear: his feelings for you ran deep. With each passing moment, his love for you only seemed to grow stronger, anchoring him amidst the storm of uncertainty.

As he vowed to uncover the truth about Mingyu's intentions, Seungcheol's resolve was fueled not only by a sense of justice for you but also by a burning desire to protect you from further harm. For he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would do anything to ensure your happiness, even if it meant confronting his own heartache in the process.

With that thought in mind, Seungcheol closed his eyes, feeling a sense of determination wash over him. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he would face them head-on, armed with nothing but his unwavering love for you. And as sleep finally claimed him, he couldn't help but cling to the hope that, somehow, everything would turn out alright in the end.

[yelspyder]

gnt do ceu, fico tao feliz de encontrar outro br 😍😍

poderia pedir miguel x reader, em q a lyla percebe q ele gosta do reader e ela tenta dar um jeitinho p ajudar o miguel

enfim oq só as melhores i.a podem fazer😉

˚‧⁺.-"All you need is to be struck by one of Cupid's arrows"

↳ summary: Miguel lives in denial about his little crush, so Lyla is forced to help.

↳ characters: Miguel O'Hara

↳ Gn! Spidey Reader

↳ notes: another brazilian? I didn't think I'd find another one, but it's a pleasant surprise. we must stick together 💪Honestly, I don't have much confidence in my writing, but I hope you like it and thanks for asking.

Miguel was in love and it was obvious. At least for Lyla. He occasionally glared at you, looked like an abandoned puppy when you left, and was absolutely more than willing to do anything you asked.

What irritated Lyla the most was that he never had the nerve to ask you out. Come up to you and ask for a mission report? That was easy for Miguel. Send you on a complicated mission? Pft, he did that almost all the time. But simply asking you out? He had no idea how to do this, not that he planned to do that.

She couldn't take Miguel anymore with the face of a dog that fell off a moving truck when you're not around. It wasn't hard to ask you out. If Miguel didn't do it, she would do it for him herself. Deciding to change that, Lyla started checking Miguel's schedule and your own. Lyla smiled when she found a vague moment in common in the two schedules. Now, it was simple. All Lyla had to do was make a date and everything would be fine.

Miguel was confused when he got a notification from his schedule saying he had an event in two hours. He was pretty sure he didn't have any other meetings that day.

As soon as he checked his calendar and saw that he had an appointment with you, he panicked and called Lyla, demanding an answer.

"Lyla, what does that mean? You take care of my schedule and I never set up this meeting." His heart was beating fast now. A date with you? This could only be a joke.

Lyla materialized beside Miguel and glared at him with a mischievous smile before speaking. "That's exactly what you saw, boss. You have this meeting in two hours. You better start getting ready and maybe even buy some gifts. People like presents, you know?"

"But I never scheduled this meeting!" Miguel looked at Lyla with a mixture of anger, despair, and confusion. "Exactly why I, your amazing assistant, did this for you. If it were up to you, you would be stranded for the rest of your life."

"I never gave you permission to do this-" "But now it's done. At this point, the calendar notification has arrived and has probably already been read. There's no way to stop it anymore. And since I'm a very generous assistant, I'll help you get dressed for your first date with your crush."

At this point, he was mortified not knowing how to respond. He would never have expected to go on a date like this. Miguel didn't answer anything and just stood there, not knowing what to do.

"Don't worry boss, you'll thank me later. Oh, and the appointment I made is in earth 57, at that restaurant you like to go to. I made a reservation in your name."

After taking a moment to compose himself, Miguel still wanted to argue with Lyla, but he already knew he couldn't cancel the meeting anymore. He sighed before speaking. "Just....guide me"

Lyla laughed excitedly and began to ramble on about which outfit he should wear.

Hours later, Miguel could be seen wearing a casual outfit and with a bouquet of flowers sitting at the table while waiting for you. As soon as you arrived and greeted him, he quickly got up from the chair he was sitting in and greeted you back, offering you the bouquet of flowers. You can barely thank him before he pulls out a chair for you to sit down.

He was slightly flushed in the face the entire dinner while you carried on a casual conversation. At first, Miguel only gave a few short and brief answers because he was embarrassed. However, after some time of conversation, he opened up more and it really started to have a date atmosphere.

Right after the two finished eating, Miguel insisted on paying the bill. He ended up accompanying you for a short night walk in Central Park and, before you opened a portal and returned to your house, you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek thanking you for the pleasant encounter.

Miguel was paralyzed for a while after you left, but he traced his cheek with his hand as a small, dreamy smile formed on his lips.

Maybe what Lyla had done wasn't all bad.

Maybe...

[fluentmoviequoter]

A League Christmas

Day 11 of 12 Days of Ficmas

Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!reader

Summary: A Justice League Christmas party overwhelms you, so you sneak off to find a quiet place. Dick finds you and keeps you company.

Word Count: 1.5k+ words

Warnings: fluff, brief discussions of insecurity and anxiety, brotherly Jason Todd slander, Hal Jordan (he's a warning by himself) and a GLTAS reference.

A/N: I didn't specify which Dick Grayson this is, so feel free to pick your favorite! I just like Young Justice's Nightwing suit. Also, I love Hal and Razer in GLTAS if anyone is curious. Friendly reminder that I write for several DC characters in this fic, if you'd like to request something with them (request rules & character list)! :)

The first annual Justice League Christmas Gala. Wonder Woman’s idea meets Batman’s money.

Your apprehension about attending has only increased since you got the invitation a week and a half before the gala. The mix of insecurity, fear, and knowing that you’ll be overwhelmed causes you to question whether or not you should RSVP.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Are you going to the gala?” Nightwing asks, landing beside you.

“I don’t know. Probably not? It’s not like a party of that size will miss one no-name vigilante,” you answer, not looking at him.

“You’re kidding, right? You have to go; who else will keep me sane?”

You glance at him before saying, “One less mouth to feed. I’m doing it for Bruce.”

Nightwing stays quiet, walking beside you until you reach the end of the alley.

“What if we go together? If I’m your date you won’t have to deal with any of it alone. I’ll be stuck by your side the entire time,” he offers.

“I- that would be nice,” you answer quietly, hopeful that being beside him will improve the night.

“Then it’s a date,” Nightwing says, his usual energy back as he jumps onto a dumpster. Extending a hand down to you, he adds, “Now, let’s find Harley, she owes me 20 bucks.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Alfred!” Dick calls as he enters the Batcave, pulling his mask off.

“Yes, Master Grayson? Another injury?” Alfred replies.

“No, of course not, I’m not Jason,” Dick answers.

“Heard that!” Jason yells from somewhere.

Dick shrugs as he smiles at Alfred. “I need you to do something for me at the gala.”

“Anything, Master Grayson.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Stephanie and Cass invited you to go shopping for the gala and found what they (and you) deemed ‘the perfect look.’ It is a combination of your suit colors and Nightwing’s. You feel good in the dress but still wonder if you made the right decision by agreeing to go.

When you enter the venue, you hear a sharp whistle and turn to see Dick Grayson walking toward you. His suit is a deep blue, with elements of the bright Nightwing blue you’ve grown to love. A domino mask covers his eyes and cheekbones, but you still know how beautiful he is.

“You look amazing,” you tell him.

“Seriously? You look like a princess,” he gushes, running a finger over the fabric of your outfit. “You look really good in blue; better than me, maybe.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” you argue, laughing as he brushes a piece of hair away from your mask.

“You ready?” he asks, offering his arm.

You loop your arm through his elbow, and he lays his other hand on your arm.

“You’ll do amazing,” he whispers as you approach the top of the stairs.

“Mr. Red Hood and Artemis Grace of Bana-Mighdall,” Alfred announces.

“Mr. Red Hood?” you ask, looking at Dick. “That makes you…”

“Mr. Nightwing, yep. Bruce doesn’t seem to care that everyone here already knows who we are.”

Alfred says your name first, flipping the expected script. You look at Dick and smile brightly, whispering your gratitude for making you laugh. When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you nod at Alfred and he sends you a quick, encouraging wink before reading the next set of names.

Your arm stays looped through Dick’s as you make the rounds, saying hello to the heroes you know and introducing yourself to those you don’t. Dick was serious when he said he’d be by your side the whole time. Even when you go to get drinks, his hand stays on your lower back as he orders for you.

“Nightwing? A word?” Superman asks, smiling as he looks over at you.

Dick’s face drops toward yours, and though you can’t see his dark eyes looking at you, you know what he’s asking.

“Go ahead,” you say with a nod. “I’ll be around when you’re done.”

He nods once, gripping your hand before he leaves with Superman. You accept the drink and walk to a secluded area, taking a seat and a deep breath.

“Hey,” someone says. “This seat taken?”

You’re prepared to lie to avoid a conversation, but when you see who it is you smile and say, “No, help yourself.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Dick’s eyes stray to you as he listens to Superman and answers his questions, nodding and laughing when needed. He sees someone approach the table and hopes that they don’t ask to sit down. When you smile and gesture to the seat, the man turns and Dick releases a sigh, turning his attention back to Superman.

✯✯✯✯✯

“And then Razer said, ‘Do you share my opinion that the sweet embrace of death would be welcome today?’” Green Lantern Hal Jordan finishes, laughing alongside you. “Hate to leave so soon, but thanks for the company,” he adds before standing to visit the other Green Lanterns, who were fashionably late (courtesy of Kyle Rayner, no doubt).

After he leaves, and you’re alone as your anxiety begins to grow as the music, the overlapping conversations, and the extravagant gown overwhelm your senses. Abandoning your seat, you back toward the door, smiling at Diana as she passes, before turning and leaving.

✯✯✯✯✯

Dick hasn’t checked on you since Hal sat down, but he feels a sudden urge to look over. When he sees you backing toward the door, he knows something is off.

“Sorry, Supes, but I need to go,” he interrupts.

Superman looks over his shoulder and smiles. “Take your time.”

Dick nods and rushes through the ballroom, following you up into a small sitting room with large windows. He closes the door, muffling the sounds of the party. You sigh as the quietness washes over you. Turning to him, you begin apologizing.

“I didn’t mean to ditch you, I just got overwhelmed, and…”

“Hey,” Dick interrupts, grabbing your hand and leading you to the couch.

He sits first, then pulls you down beside him, letting you lean against his side while he intertwines your fingers.

“Don’t apologize for leaving a situation that made you uncomfortable. Is that all that’s bothering you?”

“Yes. I just- it was a lot,” you answer.

“I get it. We can stay here as long as you want, or we can really ditch and go get ice cream or hot chocolate or something,” Dick offers, rubbing his free hand up and down your spine.

There is a small clicking sound just before the lawn outside the window is illuminated with thousands of Christmas lights. You stand quickly, pulling Dick to the window with you, looking at all of the decorations and the intricate light display.

Unbeknownst to you, Alfred looks up into the window and smiles when he sees you standing so close to Dick. “A Christmas miracle,” he mutters before returning to the gala.

“I’d say this is a pretty good first date, all things considered,” Dick says, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

You pull your hand from his and turn in his arms to ask, “This was a date?”

“Of course it was.” He rushes to add, “Unless you don’t want it to be.”

“No, I do,” you answer quickly. “I just thought you offered to go with me because I was nervous.”

Dick brushes his fingers against the bottom of your mask as he says, “I wanted to go with you because you’re the best part of my life.”

“Take it off,” you whisper.

Dick smiles as he pulls the mask away from your face, freezing as his eyes look into yours. He drops your mask on a nearby table, keeping his head turned away as he peels his own off and drops it beside yours.

“It’s been a while, Mr. Grayson,” you tease, looking into his eyes.

“Too long,” Dick agrees, running a knuckle along your cheekbone. “You really are the best part of me.”

“You’re the best part of me,” you parrot, pushing your hands under the lapel of his suit blazer to rest on his chest.

Dick smiles, opening his hand so his warm, calloused palm rests against your cheek. He tilts his head to kiss you, his lips moving slowly against yours in the best slow dance you’ve ever experienced. You lean against him as you follow his movements, more than happy to let him lead.

“Thanks for being my date,” you whisper as he pulls back.

“I got the good end of this deal,” he replies.

The door opens suddenly, and Dick pulls you against his chest, keeping his face to the window as he asks who it is.

“You know the masks are supposed to stay on for this reason, right?” Bruce asks.

“Then why are you using your real voice?” you respond playfully.

“Besides, I can’t kiss her in the mask,” Dick adds, turning to face Bruce.

“Your mask only covers your eyes,” Bruce argues.

“But his eyes are pretty,” you say, smiling.

“I just came to tell you that you can leave if you want to,” Bruce explains, smiling at you. “I’m glad you both came, though.”

He closes the door behind him as Dick looks at you, the Christmas lights reflecting in his eyes as he pulls you closer.

“Me too,” you both say together.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

not sure if I've already requested this so sorry if I have haha,

but how would the m6 react to a mc with sh scars? if it's not too heavy of a topic for you, if it is, I completely understand that :)

The Arcana HCs: M6 when MC has SH scars

~ not too heavy at all, anon, I'd actually been hoping to write this at some point and your request gave me that excuse! to anyone else who relates a little too much: you're not alone, your pain is valid, and there is hope for you even when it doesn't feel like it - brainrot ~

CW for: references to scarring and self-harm. I can remember points in my life when this would have been triggering for me to read. If this would be triggering for you too, please prioritize your health.

Julian

He noticed early on that you'd get a strange look on your face when he mentioned being comfortable with experiencing pain, and he's been curious about why for some time

You generally found a way to hide them - whether with your clothes or in the low lighting - until after you defeated the Devil, which was when Julian was less distracted enough to notice more details

Like the unusual textures that appeared when your clothes shifted as you moved around your daily tasks, and how hellbent you seemed on immediately adjusting them

He waits to approach the subject until he knows you're both in a calm headspace, after the day is done as the two of you lounge in front of the fire with your dinner

He wants to hear your side of things, but the first thing he's going to ask is to let him look at them. He's a doctor, he loves you, and he wants to know the extent of the damage and how he can help your healing

Might cry a little, but hides it and refuses to make it about himself by pulling you into the biggest hug instead

It throws him into some serious self reflection, which leads to lots of late-night talks about self-destructive habits and how you two can best support each other in a way that's loving and not enabling

Will get a matching tattoo if you choose to cover them that way

Asra

The first time they saw them was right after your resurrection, and their heart sank right down into their feet

Here he felt like he'd just saved you, only to find that you'd not only woken up in a miserable state, but that the life you'd had before had been far more painful for you than he had been aware of

Which is when they became determined to give you such a good life and so much platonic love and support that the scars on your body would truly belong to a past life

The first time you asked him about why you had them, he said they were leftover from an old battle that you had fought very bravely. Going into any more detail only made your headaches worse

They did watch your behavior and mood closely, though, in case you started to fight that battle again. They never judged you for them or offered to smooth them over

After you defeated the Devil together, he told you the truth about them and what they meant, even though he didn't know the details of why you had them

It was also their chance to give you an apology for not noticing before you died, when they were still your friend and cared about you. They know it's not their fault, but the guilt was still there

He kisses them every morning and night

Nadia

She's heard vague stories from her family members about people who were in so much pain that they would self harm, but she'd never seen such a strong example in person

Which is why she initially assumed they were the result of some fierce battle or tragedy, and planned to ask you later

She first noticed them when she was fitting you for a new outfit, and saw how hesitant you were to let her look at them. Everything she's made for you since covers them completely

She finally asks about them several months into your relationship, expecting you to either not remember or to hear a moving story of conquering some fierce enemy or fighting for a loved one

To say that she doesn't expect your answer is an understatement. It surprises her so much that her only response is "oh," in an unusually small voice, before moving on to the next topic

She's able to process it the next time she's alone, when she's struck both by her awe at your capacity to fight something so dark and by her grief that you've been doing it without her all this time

Clears her next evening to have a private dinner with you, first so she can apologize for her initial response and second so she can invite you to tell her more about it and offer her support

Likes to dress you herself so you know you're not alone or unseen

Muriel

Knew exactly what they were as soon as he saw them, which was less than half a day into your travels South with Morga

And promptly refused to talk about it because he can relate to those dark impulses more than he'd like to and because he didn't see it as being any of his business. But he does start to watch you

He watches for any sign of pain, he watches how you fix your clothes, he watches how your gaze falls on any sharp object, because even if it isn't his business he cares more than he expects

He becomes less and less discreet about how closely he's observing you until you finally notice it one evening, how the firelight falls on your scars and how his eyes fixate on them

At this point the reciprocated staring is so awkward that he'll do anything to fix the tension, so he shuffles and mumbles something along the lines of "You can talk about it if you want to. I don't mind."

So you do, and he gets hit square in the chest with how much he's come to care about you over the course of the trip

He's especially frustrated because he empathizes so deeply, and since he doesn't know how to fix himself, he's worried he'll only mess you up further

In the end, he learns to apply the kindness he feels towards you to himself as well, and sees your scars as valid as he sees his own

Portia

She's still very embarrassed (and slightly ashamed) for how things went the first time she saw them

She'd noticed something peeking out from your clothes, and how you seemed focused on covering them, and falsely assumed that it was some cool magical tattoo

Which only piqued her curiosity. This has to be juicy, and she's determined to get a closer look. Which is why, as soon as you'd become friends, she took her first chance to snatch a look

And then froze. And then dropped you, and then burst into tears. How could this happen, MC? Why would you do this to yourself? It looks like it must have hurt so much -

It's unfortunate but you're going to have to comfort her first while she works her way through the five stages of grief. She loves you, and she's heartbroken and confused about why this would happen

She needs time to process how she feels about it before she can listen to you without having a meltdown. Her normal response to self-destruction is a fist to the gut (Ilya) and that wouldn't do

Ends up following your cues when it comes to how she talks to you about it. If it's in the past, it's in the past. If it's a current struggle, then she's your partner. She'll be right next to you

She does think your fighting spirit makes you badass, though

Lucio

He's not great at noticing details unless they directly correspond to physical strengths and weaknesses. Any kind of scarring from a wound is (from his experience) a totally normal thing to see

When he starts to notice how you cover yours or get weird about them being touched, he asks about it right away

You've got such cool scars, MC, why are you hiding them? You should show them off so everyone knows how battle-tested you are! Here, he'll show his off too! *cue him stripping off his shirt*

It's a little difficult to know how best to respond to this. You're each other's life partners by now, he should probably know the truth, but you don't know how to burst his bubble

You do end up telling him later, once you're settling into your inn for the night, and watching the realization and hurt dawn across his face is anything but easy

MC, why? You deserve the best, you are the best, you're his best, you're telling him that you treated someone like yourself this poorly when you were showing him so much forgiveness?

He's not trying to guilt you at all, but it comes close to having that effect. The only thing he can think to do is hug you really really tight and hope it convinces you that you deserve better

Still refers to them as your battle scars, because to him they are

[yujinnieswifeu]

G!p Jiwon being a sub for the first time 💕

Jiwon spent the day teasing you, and as soon as they were alone she made advances on you, but things didn't go as she expected (SUB JIWON 💕💕🔥🔥#+"+)

pairings: dom!fem reader x g!p sub Jiwon

warnings: smut, lots of teasing, cumming in pussy, a little bondage

a/n: omggg i love this ask anon!! Can i say, i actually had a plot in mind when i read it HAHA, i added on with reader teasing Jiwon to no end cause of what she did, hope it’s fine!! Kinda got carried away writing this so hope you have fun reading this as much as i had writing this ask hehe 🤭

Your girlfriend Jiwon has been teasing you all day. It started of with her brushing her hand at the nape of your neck. Sure, it seemed pretty innocent, but only you two knew what it meant in bed. It was her favourite place to mark you after all. “y/n ah, you okay there babe?” She would cheekily say, watching your face turn from nervous to confused. It was making Liz grin inside, knewing she had such an effect on you.

The day got worse of course, since you and liz were at a friend’s house just to hang out with the others, she kept throwing not so subtle hints when no one was looking. Her hand would creep under the table, drawing circles at your inner thigh, you try to push it away, a death glare towards Jiwon and she would only move her eyebrows up and down playfully.

When you head to the kitchen to get yourself a drink, you felt a familiar figure behind you, her hands wrap around you as she whines against your ear. “Baby….” You bit your bottom lip, you could feel something press between your asscheeks. Your breathing hitches, the sudden gush of arousal seeps through against your panties. Jiwon whimpers against your ear, grinding herself on you, getting herself off. “F-fuck J-jiwon..” You find yourself saying, gripping the edge of the counter of the kitchen in your friend’s house rather tightly, your head whips back, afraid any of your friends would turn and catch you and Liz in the middle of something. When you press yourself further into her, she suddenly pulls away, a whine leaving your lips from the loss and she just walks away, leaving you in a state of mess from what she had done.

。。。

“y/n you okay there?” Yujin asks when she saw the sudden tenseness from you, her brow furrows in concern and you just nodded, the red in your cheeks now visible. “Y-yeah, i’m just not feeling well.” You replied, she just nods your way, as she continues to talk to the others. Liz was grinning like an idiot, her fingers brushing ever so slightly against your clothed area, feeling the warmth creep against her fingers at the contact. That was your last straw, holding her hand in yours tightly instead. Two can play the game.

As soon as you two reached home, she pounced on you almost instantly, whimpering how much she needed you against your ear. “F-fuck, so hard right now, need you baby..” You pulled her by her outfit, along the stairs until you two were in your bedroom.

She thought she was still in charge, her hands already trying to pry your clothes off sloppily, her lips attach to your neck. You bit your lip from moaning, instead pushing her on the bed. Liz’s face was filled with confusion when you did so, you never pushed her on the bed before, it was something new. When she saw you rummage through the drawer next to the bed, she raises a brow.

“Babe? What you looking for?” You don’t spare her a look, remaining silent which made a shiver to run down her spine. Did she overdid earlier? She just decided to tease you all day, so that when you two were finally home, you would be needy for her just as she was for you. When she saw what was in your hands, her eyes widened.

“y/n…” “Shut it Liz. I had enough. You teased me all day, left me feeling so sexually frustrated. You’re not getting off.” You continued, this was the first time Liz has saw you this way, she was always in charge of it during sex, but when she saw the handcuffs in your hand, she knew she was in deep soup. She had went overboard.

“If you try to resist, i’m going to sleep.” Liz whimpers instead, a shiver runs down her spine when you cuff her to the edges of the bed frame. She suddenly felt exposed. Was this how you always felt? So vulnerable? It was surprisingly also turning her on, the feeling of being bound to the bed by you as you stare at her body like you could see through her. “P-please baby, it hurts..need you.” You give her a glare, making her shut up instead, a pout on her lips.

Seeing her now evident bulge was making you insanely wet, but no way would you give it to her, not after all the teasing she had done. You figured since you were topping her this time, which might be the last, you would have your way with her. Your hands quickly took off her clothing except her boxers, making her bare to you. She shivers, the cool air against her skin making her hair stand.

“You just can’t keep little you in huh? Teasing me all day.” You crawled up to her, giving her a small show which has her gulping, pulling at the restraints. She ached to touch you, to feel you against her skin. “Baby p-please, i’m sorry.” She whines, you bit your bottom lip teasingly, the sight of Jiwon so submissive was making you wetter than usual. You took a mental note to talk to her about this tomorrow, but right now, all you wanted to do was have your fun to tease her all night.

“If you’re sorry, prove it. I’m going to tease you all night and you will take it hm?” Jiwon moves her hips desperately, wanting any contact at this point. Her bulge rubs against your skin, making her moan. She knew this was embarrassing, but she really couldn’t help it, it was you after all. She was always crazy for you. You hold her down instead and she whines, her brows furrows in need and you circle your fingers against her stomach, going lower to where she needs you the most. “Please please..” She was hurting now, the pain from the constant throbbing between her thighs as you tease her. Gosh, if she knew this would happen, she wouldn’t have teased you so much earlier.

“I will hold myself back f-from now on so pl— ahh-“ Her back arches off the bed as you press your thumb to her tip, it has her rolling her eyes, mouth agape. Your breathing hitches, the sight of her being so sensitive was turning you on. You brush your thumb over her tip, feeling some precum as you spread it over her tip. “O-oh..yes..yes y/n/n (your nickname)” she rambles on, her eyes closed in bliss as you give her some pleasure. Removing your hand from her hard on, her eyes snaps open, a whine falling past her lips. You pulled down her boxers slowly instead, eyes trained on her cock which springs upright, it has you almost salivating.

Gosh did you want to feel it inside of you so bad. An idea then popped in your head, a small grin forms on your lips. “You’re going to be good and let me use you right?” You slowly stroke her, her hips bucks almost immediately, hands tucked in a fist as she pulls at the restraints with failed efforts. “P-please, anything please?” The desperation in her voice has you feeling the gush of arousal between your legs, you were definitely soaked.

Pulling your hand away, Jiwon let out a groan this time, her eyes trains on you as you strip off your clothes fully, she almost moans when she sees the spot on your panties. Fuck, she wants to lick you so bad and taste you. You crawled back to her, positioning yourself over her cock but not inserting yet. She bites back another moan, her hands were still curled in a fist, the red lines from pulling at the handcuffs now evident, it was going to last for a few days but she didn’t care at this point.

You start to grind against her cock, pleasuring yourself as her tip bumps your clit each time you move, moans spilling past your lips. She moans as well, trying to rock her own hips to your movements. At this point, she takes any pleasure she could get to help the aching between her legs. She pulls at her restraints again, the rattling sound from when she pulls could be heard instead, and she groans as she fails to get it off her wrists, feeling the familiar sting against her wrists.

“P-please y/n..no more teasing.” She whimpers, the tears wells up in her eyes, her cock was now red and swollen from all the teasing, aching to be swallowed by your hole, but you were so mean, stopping instead. Your head goes down near her cock, blowing air against it as she twitches, hips moving up, wanting to meet your mouth desperately, and you deny her of that. “I’m s-sorry y/n, i-i won’t tease you anymore!” Liz tries again, her tears now rolling down her cheeks, she was so sensitive, and if you just wraps your mouth around her cock, she thinks she would cum instantly. That was how bad it was.

“Oh yeah? But i’m having fun here Jiwon ah.” You dart your tongue out over her tip, pulling away when she tries to push her hip again. “P-please! I-i can’t take it anymore!” She cries out, and you decide to give in to her this time, your mouth wrapping over her angry red tip. She gasps at the contact, moans and curses leaves her lips as she fucks herself over your mouth instead. You gag a little, but let her this time, you knew she needed this badly. “F-fuck! Oh fuck y-your mouth f—ahh…f-feels so good, i-i’m going to cum!” She babbles, pulling at the restraints, and you immediately pull away when you felt her twitching in your mouth, depriving her of her orgasm.

“S-shit!” She groans, more tears spilling down her cheeks from the teasing. You stare at her, how needy she was, it was just making you even more wet. “What do you want?” You touched her cheek, wiping the tears away from her eyes and she sniffs a little, a pout forming her face. “Y-you, please y/n, want you inside of me, i c-cant take it anymore.” She whimpers, her eyes were glowing, the pout adorning her face. It was your weakness, seeing her this needy and how she begged. “You can cum inside of me okay?” You position yourself above her this time, not wanting to tease her anymore.

“S-shit mmh..” Jiwon moans as you push her tip inside of you easily. You didn’t need lubrication at all, that was how wet she has gotten you. “I-it feels so g-good.” She groans, wanting to move her hips, which you stopped with your hands at her waist, moving yourself up and down over her instead. “I-i’m in control baby, not you.” The sound of hips slapping against each other, moans and groans fills the room.

You could feel Jiwon twitching inside of you, she was close, and so were you, teasing her was in a way teasing you too since you loved her cock inside of you. “A-ahh y/n! Don’t stop pl-please!” She cries out, the rattling sound could be heard again, as she pulls at the restraints. You decide to uncuff her this time, letting her hold on to you. She thanks you endlessly, her hand pulls you down, and you kiss her with passion, she moans into the kiss, making out with you sloppily. “I need to cum now!” Her words comes out muffled, but you understood it. She thrusts up desperately into you instead, your walls clenching over her length even more, your orgasm near as well, and with one last thrust, she cums inside of you, a satisfied moan leaves her lips and her back arches off the bed, twitching.

The feeling of her painting your walls white makes you cum as well, eyes rolling back as you see stars. Your body settles atop of her, not pulling out just yet. Her hands tangles in your hair, brushing lazily at your scalp and your head nettles into her neck, both of you trying to catch some breath.

“I-i need some water.” Jiwon’s voice comes out raspy, making you giggle as you pull yourself up to stare at her. You looked over the nightstand, taking the bottle of water that you two always had for backup before turning the cap and passing it to her. You pull yourself off her, she groans a little, brows furrow and stares at the area between your legs. “Let me see please?” You bit your bottom lip, spreading your legs for her and she could feel herself getting hard all over again, gulping slightly. She then drinks the water like she was really thirsty, before handling it to you. “Another round?” It makes you cough the water that you were drinking, and she pats your back. You glare at her afterwards and she laughs.

When you two were done cleaning up, she spoons you, her head atop of yours. “We’re going to talk about what happened earlier tomorrow okay?” She whispers and you hum. You two knew it was not the end of you topping her, since she found herself liking it and so did you.

[devdirt]

Hollow Knight vs. Vivziepop character design language

I know it's kind of a wildcard comparison but Vivziepop is a fan of Hollow Knight and its designs. I wanted to explore how shape language, color usage and storytelling in design are used in both properties.

NPC designs do a great job at telling you the character's personality or occupation without being overly detailed. One well placed trait does wonders, like Cornifer with his bundles of maps or Tuk and her hoarding, scrap salvaging hobbies. Paired with the world it tells two people doing their best to survive their dying realm, one by mapping out the twists and turns and the other by scraping up whatever she can find from abandoned civilization.

Now when we look at visual storytelling in Hazbin there are some good details! Alastor's outfit design and trademark microphone give you old timey host vibes right away. Niffty (my angel) sports a poodle skirt, kerchief around her neck and apron, also telling you her occupation and time period she's likely from. Everyone in this show has a big toothy grin but hers plays well into her hyperactive and always happy personality.

But there are also really poor moments of character storytelling. Everything about Beelzebub has already been said. She doesn't read as gluttony, she doesn't read as a bee, and she doesn't read as an animal tamer. When I look at her I see every other wolf character Viv has ever done. If Jayjay is party wolf and Loona is goth wolf then Beelzebub is lava lamp wolf.

The sins are mostly misses for me. They don't read as their sins or their circus related occupations. Asmodeus has fire powers but doesn't read as fire spinner. Mammon doesn't give off greed at ALL but the jester look works (which is also wrong because he's a CLOWN apparently, not a jester.) And don't get me started on this one.

This is not Lucifer.

Nothing about this reads angel, devil or even pride. This design goes all in on the ringmaster design, which is great for the circus theme! But the apple on the hat is the closest we get to this being Lucifer. I didn't even notice the snake on his hat because it looks like a worm for the apple, and they both cover the crown.

Add a second apple on the cane. Okay, so we know for sure this is supposed to be Lucifer but...why? It's another Beelzebub moment where you're left wondering why the design went in this direction. "Apple" shouldn't be the only giveaway here for the most important man in the world these stories are being told in.

Now let's see the celestial leader of Hollow Knight.

That is a god.

Removing all story context, this is incredibly quick to read. Large wings, all white, glowing yellow eyes and a crown. It looks celestial and it doesn't even need color, which is the point!

Now lets view them both within their stories. Is there visual storytelling when compared to other characters and the world around then?

Hollownest is a dark world where every character is dully colored. The Radiance and her power stick out with a glow, juxtaposing themselves with the dark as the light.

Lucifer does not look any different than most of the Hazbin cast. He has all the red, the same sharp toothed grin, the same body type as 90% of the cast of both Hazbin and Helluva Boss. If you lined him up with everyone else somebody like Asmodeus would be chosen as the obvious leader of Hell with his stature and power in the design alone.

Simplicity can tell an entire story while overextending your designs can muddy it.

Hollow Knight relies on few details and minimal storytelling yet it weaves a tale of an usurped kingdom and a god fighting for revenge. You are void, the world is dull, and god is bright and beautiful and terrifying to your way of life.

Vivziepop wants to weave a complex tale but utterly fails to do so with her designs. I purposely did not bring up Cherri Bomb, Sir Pentious or Stolas' designs since they have elements that were taken from other people and properties. I wanted to focus on what she made with her own hands, and when I narrow it down I do not see the story being told or even what side some characters are supposed to be on. Adam and the exterminators look the same as any demon. The leaders of Hell mostly sink into the ocean of overdone details. When everybody is trying so hard to stand out nobody stands out.

[letsatomicbanana]

Have any headcanons about my boy Ink sans??

Oh boy, i sure do!

It's yapping time!!! but it's bellow the 'read more'

(spoilers: It's long as hell)

-First of all, Ink can not stand normal texturized clothing and textures (like cotton, fur, silk etc...) which is the reason to why their clothes are always created by him and is used a more paint-like 'esque' to it. (which is canon).

- Case in point, he suffers from 'unable to have normal fashion tastes' disease. He's the type of motherfucker to wear baggy pants under a dress, sandles with socks on, a crop top over a long sleeved shirt etc... They does not care nor follows society's fashion sense/brands, he only gives a damn if the clothes are comfortable or not lmao.

- Genderqueer, no explanation for that one (c'mon, just look at them) also AroAce but that's already canon.

- He definetly has a whole collection of autographs of random sanses that he managed to get. (The obvious one is fell sans but he prob forgot to who the other's belongs to).

- Besides from being able to speak french, they can also speak fluent mandarin and japanese!

- Has a whole collection of random objects he found while travelling AU's. It's not anything particulary useful or collectible (like toys etc..) more so 'things he found interesting' (like that one chesse from the ruins)

- Since he has a canon hyperfixation on Underfell, i like to image that he defends the AU with his whole tiny body, empty mind and non-existent soul (he can't STAND uf slander, it makes his blood boil lmao). Also, they treats fell sans like you would treat your favourite fictional babygirl male character as.

- Definetly engaged in the consumption of illicit drugs at some point in his life, you cannot tell me that this curious asshole never had any interest in drugs, even if it's just recreational consumption. Very open to any options, but they has a thing for marijuana, alcohol, and nicotine (it makes him ADHD go bonkers).

- Now that i've mentioned it. He has ADHD-C (combined type), probably got diagnosed because he saw a random 'Does your child have ADHD' pamphlets hanging around in the wall of some random AU they visited, which made him to be deeply curious (he thought they didn't had it) and eventually diagnosed with it. Note! He's currently unmedicated (i think he would have a problematic history with medications, if i'm going to be honest). (him having adhd is kindaaaa canon??? semi-canon at least)

- Also has undiagnosed Autism and ASPD (sociopathy) in which he has no idea that he has lmao (i made a whole post about this too). Note but i'm killing anyone who says that Ink is evil due to being 'sociopatic'.

- Doesn't engaje in social gatherings of any kind unless extremly necessary, he's energetic but an introvert at heart (this is canon btw).

- Has a better conection to inanimate objects than people, oh! and he's also Objectum!

- They're an ISTP! Which stands for 'Introvert', 'Observant', 'Thinking' and 'Prospective'.

- A lot of times deeply wonders to his apparent lack of family and AU, he won't admit but he's feels a sense of envy for other sanses that have brothers. They also often wanders through the vast multiverse looking for his original family/AU, but he can never find it :(

- Extremly sensitivite to any topics of discussion/conversation that relates to his soullessness, he also cannot stand being called 'emotionless' or a 'tragedy' because of his condition. Has a tendency in de'humanizing' himself over his lack of soul.

- Since he has a very hard time understanding social interaction, they often uses their interest in art as a way to form attachments with people, like painting them outfits or portraits (insert the 'Im bad at people, but i am good at tech' entrapta quote). Art is his special interest!

- He's a very dedicated brony and their favourite pony is Derpy Hooves/ Ditzy Doo!! She's literally him, for real! If he was part of the fandom at it's peak popularity in 2012-2014, they would prob be those famous fandom artist/musicians!

- Reast in piece Ink sans you would've loved Dungeons and Dragons. (/ref)

- Besides from their obvious interest in drawing/painting, he also has a deep interest in music! He canonically can play the flute but he also enjoys playing the trumpet, the piccolo and the clarinet!

- They're generally extremly under-responsive or otherwise sensory seeking to any kind of sensory stimuli. He's also a very oral artistic and often chew/bites on stuff for stimulation. Can often fall into Nonsuicidal self-injury style of stimming such as picking or pulling,when overwhelmed/underwhelmed.

- Another headcanon that he has PICA, where he often eats/craves for things that are not food, like crayons (canon).

[spaceman-earthgirl]

Supercorptober 2023 Day 31: Spookycorp

It's been a busy month and I didn't get to do as many of these as I have in previous years but I've really missed writing supercorp and this month has been fun. I really appreciate all the support through likes and reblogs (and comments and kudos on ao3), I would not have written as many as I did without you guys.

Enjoy this final prompt (even if it is something silly) and thanks again for reading :)

ao3 fic link. series link.

---

Kara is dressed as a banana. And Lena thinks she might be in love.

“What do you think?” Kara asks, a stupidly beautiful grin on her face. 

Yep, Lena’s definitely in love.

“I think you’re by far the brightest person in the room,” Lena comments. They both glance around and Lena is right, there are a range of different costumes around the room but Kara’s is, by far, the most eye-catching costume.

Kara grins again. “Alex bet me five sticky buns I wouldn’t wear this tonight, but guess who is going to have a delicious breakfast tomorrow morning?”

Lena’s not sure how one person can eat so much but there is no doubt in her mind that Kara will eat them all tomorrow. “I’m guessing you?”

Lena’s not sure how she does it, but Kara’s grin gets even brighter. She really is like the sun, bright and beautiful, drawing Lena in like no one else has before.

“It’s going to be so good,” Kara says. “She’ll also owe me a carton of ice cream if I can do five costume changes this evening.”

Lena takes a moment to process what Kara has said, thinking she’s heard her wrong. “You’re not going to wear this all night?”

“You think I’d come to a fancy party just dressed like a banana?”

“Honestly? Yeah. Somehow, this is very you,” Lena says, gesturing to Kara’s body.

“I don’t know what that means but I’m taking it as a compliment.”

Lena’s not quite sure what it means either. “You should. What other costumes do you have to wear?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Kara winks, and Lena’s knees go weak.  “I better go, I have lots of outfits to wear tonight if I want that ice cream.”

---

The next time Lena sees Kara is not long later, but it takes her a moment to realise it’s her because she has in fact changed costume. Lena has to take a breath before she makes her way towards Kara.

“I see you’ve changed,” Lena says, trying to keep her eyes from the distracting view of Kara’s now bare legs. She’s wearing a skirt, but it’s a short one.

“What do you think?” Kara asks, swinging the tennis racket she’s holding up to rest of her shoulder. She’s dressed all in white. White shirt, white skirt, white shoes, and even white sweat bands around her wrists and forehead. “Think I’d make a good tennis player?”

Lena has to take another breath, because this is a look she never expected to see on Kara, but one she knows will now be burned in her brain.

“I’m not sure, maybe we should play some time and find out?”

Kara’s eyes light up, which Lena is pretty sure is just the competitive nature in her.

“Deal.”

---

Lena spots the Scooby-Doo costume from across the room, the head towering over most people, and she doesn’t need to get closer to know that it’s Kara.

“Why are you dressed like a dog?” Lena asks when she does get closer. Because how can she stay away from Kara? Even if she does look a little ridiculous right now.

She’s drawing attention from other partygoers, clearly not used to people like Kara. But that’s the rich for you.

“I’m not just any dog, I’m Scooby-Doo.”

Lena rolls her eyes. “I know, because you made me watch both of those movies.”

“This was part of Alex’s bet, I think she’s trying to embarrass me.”

That sounds exactly like Alex. Lena presses her lips together, trying not to laugh. “I think you look cute,” Lena comments. “But I think you made a cute tennis player and a cute banana too.”

The costume hides half of Kara’s face, but Lena’s pretty sure Kara is blushing. Or maybe she’s just hot from the full body suit.

---

Lena hadn’t realised it was something she’d wanted to see until the next outfit Kara appears in is a Supergirl costume.

Kara looks incredible. She has a similar build to Supergirl, so from a distance, no one could be blamed for mistaking her for Supergirl.

Actually, close up, she wouldn’t blame someone for confusing the two either. The blonde hair definitely helps, so do the sharp blue eyes that Lena finds herself lost in thought about far too often.

“What brings you here tonight, Supergirl?” Lena asks, eyes dropping of their own accord. Lena knows Kara is quite muscly under her usual blouses and sweaters, but it’s something else seeing her in a suit like this. Lena’s pretty sure the suit isn’t padded, that it’s all Kara.

Another short skirt isn’t helping Lena’s attention either.

“A Luthor party is always a target, I thought I should stop by to make sure everything was ok,” Kara smiles.

Lena’s actually surprised the real Supergirl hasn’t stopped by, she usually does to any L-Corp event. Most times, just a visit from her is enough to deter any possible threats.

Lena smiles, still playing along. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

“Anytime. I better check the perimeter, make sure there’s nothing I’ve missed. Have a good evening, Miss Luthor.”

“You too, Supergirl. Stay safe.”

Lena’s about to break character (though she’s technically playing herself) but she’s cut off when Kara floats off the ground and then disappears into the air, leaving a very surprised Lena in her wake.

---

Kara’s next costume is an angel, which goes well with Lena’s devil outfit (which consists of a black dress and horns on her head) but Lena can’t even admire that, not when her whole world has been rocked.

She wonders for a moment whether she’d just gotten the two confused, but there was no doubt in her mind before that she was talking to Kara.

Kara is Supergirl, and she’s not sure how she didn’t see it before, she’d even just thought about how similar they both look, and she still didn’t make the connection.

At least Kara’s hurried excuses to leave when they’re together make sense now but still, she’s smart, she should have figured it out.

Now here she is, not sure what to do with the information. Or she does. The answer is nothing, she’s not going to tell anyone. And she wants Kara to know she can trust her too.

(And part of her can’t help but wonder why Kara hasn’t told her yet. She thought they were friends. Thought they were best friends but it turns out Kara has been lying to her this whole time).

“Looks like you’ve won your carton of ice cream,” Lena says.

There’s no time like the present.

Kara frowns. “No, that’s only four.”

“No, that’s your fifth outfit.“ Lena holds up a fist, raising a finger as she counts each one. “Banana, dog, tennis player, angel and…”

Lena trails off, for a moment wondering if she should just keep quiet. But they’re alone near the food table, no one close enough to hear them. And she wants Kara to know that she knows.

Before Kara can cut in, Lena holds up her last finger. “And Supergirl makes five.”

Kara freezes, Lena can see her processing what she’s just said. Lena’s not sure what she’ll do if Kara denies it.

Kara glances around, voice quiet when she finally speaks. “How did you know it was me?”

Relief washes over Lena, she’s not sure what she would’ve done if Kara had denied it.

“The better question is, how did I not see it before? You don’t even wear a mask. But tonight I was watching the crowd, waiting for you to appear. I think I saw you before I realised what you were wearing.” Lena shakes her head. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it, you literally look the same.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, no one sees it.’

“But I’m your best friend, I should have known.”

“I think I should counter that with, you’re my best friend, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Kara reaches out, takes Lena’s hand. “I promise, it was me and not you. I trust you, I just didn’t know how to tell you with all the history between you and Supergirl. Or you and me, I guess. I just didn’t want to risk losing you.”

Lena squeezes Kara’s hand. “You’re never going to lose me, I promise. But no more secrets, okay?”

Lena feels like a bit of a hypocrite asking that, when she’s hiding a secret herself. But baby steps, she can work up to telling Kara she’s in love with her another time.

“No more secrets,” Kara nods. “I promise. After the party, do you want to come over? I can tell you everything.”

Lena swallows down the emotion that rises in her throat. “I’d like that.”

The moment lingers and Lena finds herself caught in blue eyes she’s often distracted by.

She breaks the moment, she has to, before she does something stupid. “So, tell me, if Supergirl wasn’t your fifth costume, then what is it?”

“You’re just going to have to wait and see. I still need that fifth costume change because I cannot tell Alex one of them was Supergirl and that’s how you found out or she’d kill me. She already thinks I’m not careful enough, next she’ll make me wear a mask or something.”

Lena laughs. “Your secret is safe with me.” She pauses. “All of them.” Kara needs to know she won’t tell anyone either.

Kara smiles, tangling their fingers together again. This time she doesn’t let go. “I know.”

[hjparisian]

you're losing me pt. II- theodore nott x reader

p: theodore nott x gn! reader w: angst (sorry not sorry), slight cussing summary: (Y/N) is coping with their fight with Theodore, but an unwanted conversation reveals more than (Y/N) expected. a/n: the long awaited part two, thank you all for being patient and for all the love you gave to part one. can't believe it took me this long to get part two out and im so sorry but i had trouble writing and coming up with ideas

Winter break had felt like the longest and worst couple weeks to (Y/N) ever. All they really did was sat in their room, read, attempt to study, and occasionally write to Pansy.

The Malfoy's had thrown a party on New Year's Eve. All pureblooded families were invited, which meant (Y/N)'s family and the Nott family. They were not ready to see Theodore. Unfortunately, no matter how hard (Y/N) tried, they couldn't escape it.

The day of the party, (Y/N) sat and stared at the outfit laid out for them to wear. Maybe it'll spontaneously combust and they would have no outfit to wear and can't go. Yeah, right. As if that'll actually happen. Their mother probably has a bunch of backup outfits for them to wear anyways.

At least Pansy said she would try to stay by their side the whole time. Keyword, try. Because Blaise would probably try to steal Pansy to go snog somewhere.

The second (Y/N) and their parents entered the Malfoy Manor, they felt like running away and throwing up. Why? Oh, because of course the first person they'd find was Theodore Nott.

"(Y/N)!"

Oh bless Pansy for catching their attention. But also curse her because apparently the sound of their name caught Theodore's ears and made him turn his head towards them.

(Y/N) looked away from him.

(Y/N) hugged Pansy. "Pansy! How has your break been?"

"It's been nice. Got to hang out with Blaise a lot," she said. "What about you (Y/N)? How have you been feeling?"

Now, (Y/N) could lie and say they've been great and having a lovely break. But of course Pansy would see straight through their little lie.

"If I have to be honest Pans, I still feel like shit."

Pansy looked at them with concern. The fact that the reason (Y/N) felt terrible was in the room didn't help them.

"Well, I know Millicent and Tracey are here and I know they wanna catch up with us. Plus there's drinks. There's nothing better than drinks at these boring parties, right?" Pansy said in attempt to make (Y/N) feel better.

The two had gone and found their fellow schoolmates at the side of the room. Unfortunately for (Y/N), Daphne Greengrass and her sister Astoria were also there.

Pansy and (Y/N) greeted their schoolmates, with (Y/N) avoiding eye contact with Daphne. They listened as Pansy was telling the other girls about what she's been doing.

"What about you, (Y/N)?" Tracey asked them. "Done anything fun during break?"

"I've just been home reading," They told Tracey. "My parents decided not to go to France this year so I've been cooped up in my room."

"What about Theodore?" piped Millicent. Pansy's eyes slightly widened at her friend's question. "You didn't go see him?"

(Y/N) wanted the ground to open up and swallow them whole. Of course their other friends would ask about their relationship with Theodore. No one seems to know what's going on other than Pansy and maybe Blaise.

"No I didn't," (Y/N) said. "He's been busy." They looked at Daphne to see any reaction from her but surprisingly it was pretty neutral.

"I think I'm going to get a glass of champagne or something." (Y/N) said. "Anyone want one?"

"Oh, one for me please!" Tracey told them. (Y/N) nodded before leaving to find one of the waiters walking around with trays full of champagne.

After grabbing two drinks for themselves and Tracey, (Y/N) turned around to find themselves face to face with the one person they did not want to see.

Theodore fucking Nott.

The boy also grabbed a glass from the waiter's tray and took a sip on it.

"So, you're here," He said to (Y/N).

"I am."

Theodore looked them up and down. "You look nice."

(Y/N) gave him a curt 'thanks', wanting to get away from here.

"(Y/N)," Theodore called out.

"What do you want?" (Y/N) asked him impatiently. "I've got friends waiting for me."

"Just wanted to say hope you're having a nice break," he said hesitantly, almost as if he wanted to say something else.

(Y/N) gave him an odd look before shaking their head and walking away, not wanting to look at him a second more.

Once (Y/N) returned to their group and handed Tracey her drink, they find Pansy staring at them.

"You alright?" She whispered. "I saw you had a run in with Theodore."

(Y/N) nods their head. "I just want to get this party over with."

The rest of the party had gone alright thanks to Pansy, who managed to stay with them the whole time. They went the rest of the break without seeing Theodore, but unfortunately, the holidays ended and (Y/N) had to return to school and see him.

They'd did everything they can to avoid being around Theodore for longer than they have to, whether that was finding a different route to classes, sitting besides Pansy a few tables away from him (though this one wasn't really a change), or studying in their dorm rather than the library.

The only thing (Y/N) couldn't avoid was sitting away from him during lunch and dinner. Sure, they could beg Pansy to sit farther down the table, but the others would find it odd that the two were not sitting with them since they always ate together.

So (Y/N) just had to suck it up and remain civil. The good thing was that even when Theodore and (Y/N) were in good standing, they would always sit with Pansy so no one would find it weird. This whole thing was a struggle because even though (Y/N) was upset at Theodore and trying to avoid him, they could help but seek glances at Theodore. So did he.

(Y/N) had enough of being cooped up in their room, so they decided to study in the common room one night. There were a couple people scattered in the room, but most of the Slytherins were either in their dorms or snuck out to merlin knows where.

(Y/N) was looking at their Transfiguration book until a voice disrupts their focus.

"Hey. Do you mind if I sit here?"

It was Theodore Nott.

"There's plenty of space in the common room Nott," (Y/N) pointed out. "You can sit somewhere else."

"Well actually, I wanted to talk to you."

(Y/N) rolled their eyes before looking towards Theodore. "What's there to talk about?"

Theodore huffed before responding. "We need to talk about what happened before break. We didn't exactly left off on the right foot."

"Obviously."

(Y/N) felt a multitude of emotions hit them. They felt angry, upset, frustrated. They weren't even sure they wanted Theodore to address what happened. It would either end in two ways, they would move past it and stay together, or it would lead to the end of them.

But (Y/N) knew they couldn't avoid this any longer. They nodded towards the seat next to them.

"Sit." Theodore sat down.

"So," (Y/N) began. "Talk."

"Right. Well, I think you should know why I was talking to Daphne." Theodore starts. "Her parents and my father were talking about joining forces with the Dark Lord. And my father decided I was old enough to join them."

(Y/N) saw Theodore rub his left forearm, where the dark mark was usually placed. This news shocked them. (Y/N) knew that his father supported Voldemort and preached his ideals, but they never thought he would make Theodore become a death eater.

"Daphne found out what happened when she overheard my father and her father talking with each other. She confronted me about it so I admitted it. Wasn't worth trying to hide if she pretty much already knew about it. She's been trying to calm me down and help me not think about what happened."

There were a million different things going through (Y/N)'s head, yet the only thing that settled was why didn't he tell them? They could've help him too.

"Why didn't you tell me about it?" (Y/N) asked.

The boy sighed, not daring to meet their eyes. "I didn't want you to get involved in this."

"Theodore, I don't care," they exclaimed. "I want to help you. I would've listened to you and help you!"

"(Y/N) this is not your place-"

"I'm not a child anymore Theodore!" (Y/N) screamed. "I know what's going on, I'm not an idiot!"

"(Y/N), you have to listen to me! Your parents aren't involved with the Dark Lord this time around. If I told you and someone finds out, you could put you and your parents in danger."

(Y/N) huffed. "Oh, but Daphne gets to know?"

"Daphne is protected because of her parents and she found out herself. I did not tell her."

"Oh, but you continued to talk to her about it!"

Theodore was starting to get frustrated. "Who else was I supposed to talk to?"

"Me! Your partner? Or even Draco, his dad supports Voldemort, he'd probably understand how you felt."

Theodore's eyes widen a bit at the mention of Draco's name, but (Y/N) didn't notice.

"Look (Y/N)," Theodore slowly said. "I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about this. But you have to understand why I didn't tell you. I still care about you and this is something I didn't want you to get mixed in with, alright?"

(Y/N) sat there, calming themselves down. There was still one question that's been haunting them since the party.

"(Y/N)?"

"I just have one question for you." (Y/N) said, looking towards Theodore. The boy motioned for them to continue. "Did you ever feel anything for Daphne?"

There was a bit of hesitation in Theodore before he responded. "No."

(Y/N) looked at him oddly, noticing his hesitation.

"Theodore? Tell me the truth."

Theodore sighed before speaking. "I never lost feelings for you, but when I was talking Daphne, I felt different around her."

"W-what?" (Y/N) stuttered out. "Did you do anything?"

"No! I promise you I would never do anything with her." Theodore told them. "She's talking with Pucey anyways."

(Y/N) could feel the whirlpool of emotions coming back. Theodore confirmed one of the things they were hoping wasn't true. But he still liked them. But he's been hiding about him joining the Dark Lord. It was all too much to take in.

They leaned back against the chair with their arms crossed, staring into the dimly lit fire. "So, what do we do now?"

"What do you mean?" Theodore questioned them.

"About our relationship. What happens now?

There was a minute of uncomfortable silence penetrating the now empty room. The two of them not saying anything.

Another sigh emitted from Theodore before he stated his answer. "I think it's best if we take a break."

(Y/N) could feel their heart break at his answer. Their nightmare came true. They were losing him.

"There's a lot going on lately. With the war and Dark Lord rising it's going to be difficult to handle it all, especially with where I stand with him," Theodore said, motioning towards his left arm. "And I don't want to get you or your family involved in it."

"Yeah, y-you're right," (Y/N) choked out. "But we can still talk and be friends, right?"

"We can try."

(Y/N) nodded at his answer, trying not to let the tears welling up in their eyes escape. It seemed that Theodore had noticed it though, as he wrapped his arms in one last embrace.

"I love you, Theo."

There was a moment of silence before Theodore responded.

"I love you too."

The two sat there, (Y/N) quietly sobbing into Theodore's shoulder, not wanting to let go because that would be the last time they would be with him and would confirm their nightmare.

They lost Theodore.

[wands-natsthing]

Sunday Morning

This story was on my old acct @wandanatsthings I made a new one (aka this one) which will be the acct I use from now on.

HI, so this is my first fic and first time writing anything so stay with me lol. I love reading ALL of the wandanat x reader fics on here and I decided that I was gonna try myself. Now I know this isn't great or even good for that matter but it is the start of hopefully a great journey and as time goes on I'll continue to get better fingers crossed. So if you have any tips or feedback please feel free to comment and enjoy. :))

(P.s im dyslexic and grammar isn’t my thing)

Word Count: 960

Warnings: I don't think there are any? maybe religious beliefs but it does not go far in detail. It's really just fluffy.

Summary: Wanda and Natasha surprise you by going to church with you one Sunday.

It was a Sunday morning when you heard the alarm you set the night before go off. The alarm told you It was time to get up and go to church. As you rolled over to turn the alarm off you realized something. Your girlfriends were nowhere to be found. Now I know what you may be thinking. "You're gay and are going to church?" I know that may seem a bit off to some people, but the church is somewhere I've always felt safe. It's where I grew up. Even when I was struggling with my sexuality and homophobia I always felt like I could go to church and feel safe and accepted. It was one of the only places you felt that way besides your girlfriend's arms. Speaking of you still had no idea where they were.

Now it wasn't super early. You weren't one of those people who got up to go to church at the butt crack of dawn. It was only 9 am. That meant Natasha should have been back in bed with you and Wanda from her early morning run by now but she wasn't and you had no idea where Wanda was. You decided to get up and go look for them. You had to get up and get dressed soon anyway so you wouldn’t be late. You listened to see if you heard anyone in the bathroom and you didn’t. So You decided to make your way downstairs.

The closer you got to the stairs you could hear lovers laughing together and the smell of Wanda's pancakes. The sound and the smell put a smile on your face.

You walked down the stairs into the kitchen and before they could see that you were there, you just admired them. Seeing them wrapped up in each other’s arms. Natasha had her arms wrapped around Wanda’s waist while Wanda was at the stove making sure the pancakes wouldn’t burn because Natasha couldn’t cook to save her life. You loved seeing them so domestic. You also took note that Natasha wasn't in her normal morning workout clothes and Wanda wasn't wearing the pajamas from the night before. You didn't have much time to think about it though, because your beautiful witch finally noticed you standing there.

She walk’s toward you with a smile on her face and open arms. “Good Morning detka how did you sleep?” she asked. “I slept okay, I woke up to an empty bed though,” you say pouting. Natasha then comes up behind you wrapping her arms around your waist “Good morning baby” she says with a kiss on your forehead. “I'm sorry you woke up alone, we wanted to make you breakfast and ask you something. Isn't that right wands?’ Wanda looks up at you and nods saying “that is right love.” You notice they're looking at each other the way they do when they have something planned. “ You two are up to something,” you say, giving them a look. “Yes but you will find out after breakfast now let's go eat,” says Wanda.

You all follow Wanda to the dining room table with plates of pancakes in hand, you sit down in the seat you always do with Natasha at the head of the table you to her left and Wanda across from you to her right. While you guys are eating you pay more attention to their outfits. Natasha had on a white dress shirt and black slacks. While Wanda had on about the same thing just with an added suit jacket. They both looked nice you thought but you couldn't help but wonder where they were going dressed like that. You couldn't remember them telling you that they had anything planned this morning. So you decide to ask them. “Hey guys are you going anywhere this morning? You look nice” You see them turn to look at each other with smiles on their faces. Wanda is the one to speak up. “Actually yes detka, we were wondering if we could accompany you today at church?” They both look at you with hopeful glints in their eyes.

Now neither one of them was religious in any kind of way but that didn't stop them from letting you go church at all, you never even really talked about it besides them asking you how it went every time you got home. You never invited them simply because you didn't think that they would want to come, but hearing that they were asking you to come made your heart melt. You loved that they were taking an interest in something that meant so much to you. In something that made you who you are. “Detka '' You hear them say in your midst of awing. You snap out of it and say “Yes, Yes I would love for you to come with me’ ‘But are you sure I know you guys aren't religious like that.” “We are so sure sweet girl, we want to see the place that makes you feel safe and the place that makes you, and that brings that smile to your face every Sunday” Natasha says. Wanda then goes on to say “ yes exactly what Tasha said we want the experience and would love to go with you.” You start to tear up at their words you couldn't believe it. “ You don't know how much this means to me. I love you guys so much " And we love you too,” they both say. You all get up and hug each other so tight with smiles on your faces. You look up at them and say “I thank God every day for the love that we share and I will forever cherish it."

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What do you guys think? lemme know!