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chibsandchill · 3 months

Text

See me

Fandom: Saltburn

Pairing: Felix x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Each room in Saltburn is bursting at the seam with memories with you, and Felix remembers some of his favorite moments as he makes his way to his prize.

Warnings: Felix, Mentions and descriptions of acts of violence and murder, NSFW content, MDNI, 18+, unreliable narrator (Felix), toxic relationship, obsessive tendencies, grammatical and spelling errors, p in v sex, oral sex (m receiving), Felix is a creep, themes of violence - self-harm and equivalent themes are prevalent through the imagine, some parts of their dynamic takes inspiration from Hannigram but with my spin on obsession

I am not responsible for your media consumption. Read the tags.

MDNI

Masterlist

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It’s a cloudy day when Felix first saw you,

but with you came the sun,

warmth, empathy, love.

Oh, how he loved your heart. But, oh, how careless you were with it. It was a gift,

one meant for him,

from you.

Then why did you waste it on those beneath you? You chipped away at it to mend sobbing students, tore at it until it bled and thick scars rose like mountains. You took on their pain with a blindingly bright smile,

only Felix saw how their burdens weighed you down.

The sun was meant to warm, to burn from far away,

but they tore you down from your place in the sky so that they might leech your warmth until you are left barren. Their sorrows were cold as ice against you.

They stole you from him. Piece by piece they ripped at you with filthy nails. You became known on campus as someone who’d listen. Who wouldn’t judge. How could you when you felt their problems as if they were your own? The more they spoke those words dripping with poison, the more they tainted the very blood in your veins with their darkness.

‘Walk in their shoes’.

You didn’t need to. You could walk in their skin, feel their emotions as if they were yours. Heartbreak plagued you, sorrow fell on you like an ever present shadow. The death of a family not yours turned your face gray and your eyes misty.

Until Felix put a stop to it all. How could he stand by and watch it happen? The slow destruction of a bright star, who burned so bright that all envied it.

Jenny from history of art, Carl from math, Robert from physics, Matilda from psychology, Caroline, Jeremy, Han, Thomas, Harry, Derek, Henry, Linda, Nico, Mark, John, Hans, William, Frederic. All turned away at your door.

“Yes, I’ll tell her.”

“I’ll let her know.”

“Sure thing, buddy.”

Oh, how they believed his lies. Sweet, sweet, Felix Catton wouldn’t lie to them. Surely not.

But lie, he did. It spewed from his lips like honey. All to have his sun beam at him again. To wash away the taint of the others from your skin, your heart, your eyes. He would have you look at him with soft, relaxed eyes.

Him. Him. Him. Him.

Your protector. Even if you didn’t know it yet.

“Felix.”

He hummed.

Your eyes are heavy with sleep when you look up at him, but the affection is hard to miss. It makes you glow. Felix curled his arm further around you, bringing you closer to him. But even then it is not close enough. He aches. It’s a want deeper than skin, deeper than bones or even his soul. It was as if his very being was made of want, of longing so intense he was blinded by it. If God was indeed real then he had created Felix with a thread laced with obsession, with love transcending all else.

Even thinking about you made his heart race, pound.

“Can I braid your hair?”

“‘Course.” He said against your skin.

As if you needed to ask. All of him was yours.

You try to sit up but Felix isn’t ready to break the contact yet. He feels like a battery, no matter how bizarre a comparison it is, constantly needing to be recharged so that he might survive when you part. He’s constantly cold without you, he feels empty; hollow. His hands are too light with the lack of you, he breathes too easy without the weight of you on his chest. If he could he’d carve his heart out so that you could carry it with you, for that was how he felt anyway. He’d gouge himself hollow so that he could fit you inside. Never to be parted again, joined together by shared blood, flesh and bone.

It’s not easy with his hold on you, but you manage to shift so that you sit in his lap instead. It’s not ideal if you mean to truly braid his hair but Felix won’t complain. He pushed his head into your touch when your fingers hover over him.

“Patience.” You half-heartedly scold him.

Your fingers weave through his hair, nails scratching just right against his scalp. With deft hands you untangle the mess you’d created during the night. There’s not much to braid but more than enough for you to wrap around your fingers and tug. The action pulls a low groan from his throat.

He grabs your hips. Felix wonders if you’ve noticed how he’s caged you in. You probably don’t, as sweet and trusting a being as you surely wouldn’t peel back his layers to gasp at the thriving darkness beneath. With you he was his truest self. Could you see him? Would you run if he were to cast off the layers? Let you see him?

Maybe you already could. You had seen the others. Even the empty ones, the ones who had gouged themselves hollow and shoved the essence of what they thought he wanted until it spilled from every hole in their body.

Felix wasn’t hollow. He was bursting at the seams with life, same as you. And yet you stayed. Surely you knew. You had to. You and he were one. Two pieces of a whole finally reunited.

He breaths in your scent, noses along your throat before allowing his head to rest in the crook of your neck. There’s a bruise there hidden on your shoulder blade. Late one night when you’d already fallen asleep he mouthed it into your skin with the moon as his witness,

only,

it had started to fade.

He’d have to do it again. Closer. Marking you under the cover of darkness wasn’t enough anymore. An unspoken claim didn’t satisfy him anymore. It wasn’t enough. He was beginning to think it never would be. He could bruise every inch of your skin with his love and his skin would still itch to do more – to prove himself more to you.

Just as his hands slide down to rest on the curve of your ass the scene slips through his fingers like sand.

He blinks it away. He’s standing in the driveway of Saltburn. Your favorite statue is left in shambles on the gravel with his blood splattered across the white marble.

“What the fuck.” Felix’s hand shakes and burns with pain. His knuckles are split open.

It had been a slip of a thought he had once when you first came to Saltburn and you’d taken to leaning on the statues, the furniture, walls, pillars. He’d wanted them all gone. He’d be your pillar. He wouldn’t crumble with age, would never make you think they stood strong only for the core to be riddled with holes from pests.

Felix was whole and strong, had made himself such,

for you.

He’d burnt the tendrils of influence his mother had dug into him since childhood. Torn the threads of her darkness right out of the tapestry. Oh, how she cried when she noticed. ‘Felix,’ she’d whispered, a rare show of emotion plastered across her face, ‘what have you done?’.

She shouldn’t have worried about what he had done. No, she should’ve worried about what he was going to do.

He watched you for weeks before approaching you. He noticed what made you laugh, what made you smile, frown, scowl. And so he took that too. Cut out the parts of himself that would drop the smile from your face and sewed on the parts that he lacked until he was left a patch-work version of perfecting befitting a Mary Shelley novel. Pus and blood seeped from the stitches. The sight was unseemly. So he waited until he’d perfected himself, until the stolen was assimilated, until it was like another Felix had never existed.

Felix throws the heavy doors open and the maids scurry away from his sight.

Duncan emerges from the pack. Even after all he’d seen, his adoration for Felix remained. “Welcome back, Felix.”

He nods.

And then he’s off.

The route he takes is reminiscent of your first tour of the mansion. He’s even nodding along as if hearing himself introduce it all. The staircase where he “fingered” his cousin. As if. Your face had reddened with equal parts jealousy and sheer disbelief of ‘what the fuck’.

One of the smaller sitting rooms. The green one. He fucking hates that room. But you love it. He went down on you for the first time there. Right on the couch with his granny’s ghost knocking down a shelf of antique plates over his head. The blood had driven you crazy.

The thought alone made him hard.

But this was also the first room you’d held him properly in. He’d been crying.

“What's wrong?” You ask when he threw the door open.

You’d been doing some summer reading for uni, but your fingers clutched the opening pages with strength that betrayed your pounding headache.

“Fucking Ollie.”

Your brows furrow “Oliver?”

Felix lay down on the couch with his head in your lap. You smell good. And you’re soft.

“Yeah.” He sigh. “He was lying to us this whole time. Turns out poor Oliver Quick has both a dad and mum who loves him. Even siblings! They live in a lovely house in a picture perfect neighborhood.”

‘I just need you to understand how much I fucking love you!’

As if there was even a sliver of Felix that didn’t belong to you, that didn’t scream out for you every second you were apart. Had Oliver not been paying attention? Could he not see the need that permated him? It ran so deep, was so all-consuming that he couldn’t contain it all. He breathed desire, cried longing, even fucking pissed envy. Envy even over the very air you breathed, the clothing that hugged you, the sheets for the audacity to imply he wasn’t enough to keep you warm.

You hum as your fingers drift down to cup his face.

“He was in love with me.”

“Isn’t everyone?” You joke.

Felix’s eyes opened (he hadn’t realized he closed them). “You love me?”

“Of course.” You trace a scar on his cheekbone.

“Say it.”

“I love you, Felix.”

Even that memory fades, but your words linger.

I love you, Felix.

You always linger. Your kisses burn his skin and he wishes it left a scar so that he could look upon it and relive it all.

The green room is abandoned quickly, and he’s off.

“A blue room!” You exclaim, and to Felix’s displeasure you let go of him to take it all in.

“Yeah. It’s… blue.”

“What? No ghosts? No artifacts?”

Felix shakes his head. “Nope. Just blue.”

Felix sees himself leaning against the door while you spin around the room. It’s like a movie, almost. Only it’s his memories and he can remember every second he’s ever spent in your presence. Including this one. And the next one.

The one where you’re on your knees.

You’re pressing soft kisses to the tip of his cock, pressing your love into every inch of skin you can find as if you wanted to stay there, to have your love replace the tar that ran through his veins.

It’s odd. He can almost feel the tingles left by your touch, but he’s untouched. Felix’s hands form fists at the sight. Was it possible to be jealous even of himself? The envy boiling in his stomach certainly said so. He would not share you even with himself.

Felix strides forward and sinks into the place his past self sits. He unbuckles his jeans and frees his cock from his underwear. If he were not so deep in madness he might’ve felt the cold of the room, but he was, and so he felt the warmth of your hands, the wetness of your mouth as you wrap your lips around his tip.

He moans. He didn’t know what he liked the most about it. The vulnerability, the act itself, your presence, or that it left you with a part of him inside you. You’d kneel in front of him for as long as it took, but Felix would not have you be uncomfortable and so he slid a pillow under your knees.

Your hands cup his balls. He twitches. You take more of him into you. It feels like heaven to have you wrap yourself around him. Wet, warm, silky heaven. All for him.

Him. Him. Him. Him. His.

You moan around him. It sends vibrations straight through him. It pulls a low groan straight from his chest, one that makes you moan. His pleasure is your pleasure, and your pleasure is his, and so the circle begins.

His eyes roll into the back of his head when you begin bobbing your head up and down. You slurp. Electricity runs down his spine. It’s wet. Sloppy. Saliva drips down your mouth as you press your nose into his abdomen.

Someone drops a plate somewhere in the house and the spell is broken. Not unlike a reflection in a lake is the memory distorted, wrong. You’re on your knees without the pillow. He’s standing above you, not sitting. Your knees are bruised and bleeding. You’re crying.

Some small part of him, one that he’d allowed to fester for far too long, enjoys the scene. Enjoys the submission, thrives in the knowledge that it is not only he that longs and wants and would press and press until nothing remains if only to bring you a sliver of happiness. You smile around his cock. It’s not the pain that brings you to tears.

This isn’t right. This isn’t him. It’s Elspeth messing with his head. It’s Oliver whispering his lies in his ear.

He wants to vomit. Why would they punish him so? To make him see you hurt,

to force him to see himself hurt you, brutalize you,

humiliate you.

Why, when he adored you, worshiped you. If there was a puddle he’d lay himself down to let you walk over him. He’d drown himself so that you would not have to dirty yourself. Like a tumor he’d performed surgery after surgery to remove what you didn’t like.

And you did the same.

The image is restored, but he’s already on his feet.

He would wait no longer.

Felix runs up the stairs but is forced to a halt by the moans coming from the king’s bedroom. Another memory? The door is already open.

“Tell me your vows again.”

You’ve got your legs up in the air behind you, head resting in your hands as you stare at him.

“Dear,” Felix turns around from where he stood by the window. Your name sounds like prayer on his lips. “I’ve never been alone. People have flocked to me since before I can remember. But they didn’t see me. But you… you, I let you see me. It’s a rare gift. And it’s one that I’ve never regretted giving you. I’ve never felt more loved than in your arms. Do I need to continue, Mrs Catton?”

You laugh.

“Come to bed, Felix.”

The memory changes before he can enjoy the sight of you in your wedding dress. The happiest day of his life. Gone in a blink.

You’re no longer on the bed. You’re in his arms, crying yet again. There’s blood on his shirt. No finger graces your finger. Felix closes his eyes. He knows this memory. KNows very well what he’d have to endure to get back to you.

“Y-you killed him!” You shudder.

Felix shushes you. “There was no other way.”

“There’s always another way.”

“Not this time."

Truly, there wasn’t. You saw much, but Oliver was so good at pretending to be someone else that he even fooled himself into believing his own lies. And so, you thought nothing of it when Oliver offered you his bottle of wine. Had no idea of the drugs that he’d shoved in there.

“Are you scared of me?” Felix asks you. His voice shakes. He remembers his own fear, how his stomach churned. He could write a thousand words and not even chip at the surface of the emotions he felt. A thrill at the thought of you finally seeing the deepest deepest parts of him? Disgust that he’d slipped and revealed a crack in his mask? Such fear that it clung to his very bones, stopped his lungs from working and had his own eyes water with tears? All true. And yet all of them are false. There wasn’t a single emotion he could place, they all blended together to form a concoction of heart-wrenching pain and fear.

The memory fades away. He doesn’t remember the rest. All he remembers is how it ended.

The headboard bangs against the wall with the force of his thrusts. His hands are cradling your face, kissing away the tears of pleasure. You push your legs up higher on his back where you’ve hitched them, your own hands pressing against his own face to bring him closer. He’s inside you but he’s not close enough.

Felix leans down to cover your whole body with his. You squeak at the change.

“Oh god,” you throw your head back with a moan.

He moves a deft finger down to press down on your clit. He experimented with pressure, directions, even spelled out his own name with your pleasure. Felix feels as though he’s on fire, but still he wants more. He wants to be closer. Closer. Closer. Closer.

You clench around his cock, and he stutters.

The love in your eyes makes him falter, before he drives into you faster than before. The bed squeaks, one hard thrust away from breaking. Fitting. So is he. Your right hand moved up his cheekbone, past his ear and to the back of his head. Your touch is gentle, barely-there pressure as you guide him down to slant your mouth over his. His heart aches with love, adoration, you. You’ve made it your home.

Yet again he is denied release as the memory is gone. The room is empty.

“Fuck.”

It’s not graceful the way he stalks out of the room. No more interruptions, he thinks.

The last door in the corridor. Yours. And his. Your marital chambers, as Duncan would call it. Old fashioned bastard.

He pushes it open without as much as a knock. And there you are.

“Felix!” You cross the room in seconds and then you’ve thrown yourself in his arms. “We missed you!”

Your rounded stomach presses into him. He rests his forehead on yours, pressing long, soft kisses against your lips, even as you giggle and try to move away. When you do, he chases after you. He’s not done. Never done.

His legs feel like jelly, his soul is on fire,

but he finally found you.

In a house full of memories and vengeful ghosts he found you.

And you saw him, as you always do, and he’s tugged back into bed with the comforting weight of you pressing him down into the mattress.

And he’s almost content.

Almost.

Taglist:

@fedyascoffin

#felix catton x reader #felix catton #felix catton x you #saltburn imagine #saltburn smut #saltburn x reader #saltburn #felix catton smut #felix catton imagine

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mikkomacko · 9 months

Text

Straight From a Romance Novel

Pairing: Nico Hischier x female reader

Summary: Nico's trying to get his girls attention but is thrown for a loop when she's more interested in the book she's reading. After prying, he finds out why

Warnings: smut, literally the whole thing is just smut lol, cursing

A/n: Uncanny timing that I finish this as the whole book tok thing is happening but this has nothing to do with hockey romance novels lol...still funny timing though.

Anyway, hope y'all enjoy!

The house in Switzerland is always quieter than their home in Jersey. Without their friends and teammates running around, chatting and laughing over music or something on the tv, the calm house almost feels empty. And for a moment, Nico thinks it might be. The kitchen is empty, any remaining presence of the large dinner you shared only a couple hours before has been wiped clean, revealed only by the humming dishwasher.

He finds the living room empty as well, the tv off and couch cushions missing ruffles and dents in the spot she usually curls up on. Every throw pillow and blanket is perfectly fluffed and placed. He doesn’t even bother checking the sunroom attached to the living room, seeing that the room is dark and the glass door most likely locked.

Usually she sprawls out on the patio furniture there when he goes for his evening run, watching the sun set and painting her nails or crocheting. Sometimes he even comes home to her asleep out there, the open windows blowing the summer breeze in, carrying the sounds of chirping crickets with it.

Nico takes a swig of his water bottle, gripping the hem of his sweaty shirt and lifting it to wipe at his mouth. He decides to just rip off the soiled cloth, pulling it over his head and swiping at his damp chest and neck. Still trying to rid himself of sweat, he drags the fabric down his abdomen and around to his back, moving down the hallway as he does so.

It’s the warm smell of vanilla that leads him to her, it’s aroma drifting into the hall. He smiles, let’s the scent soak into his nose and lungs, stirring up thoughts of her. It’s her favorite, vanilla. It’s in her perfume, her hair products, her lotions and oils, probably even her deodorant.

Through the open door he spots her, nestled into a stack of pillows against the headboard of their shared bed. Her hair is pulled back in a loose braid that falls over her shoulder, messy and half undone because she always tugs out pieces to twirl around her finger as she gets ready for bed. Sweater paws hold a book out in front of her, the string of whatever hoodie she snagged from him pinched between her teeth. And sure enough, a vanilla candle burns on the nightstand next to her.

Nico steps into the room, admires the look of concentration on her face as he carelessly kicks his shoes off by the dresser. She doesn’t react to him, instead flips the page and drags her eyes across the first paragraph. He approaches the side of the bed, laying his wet shirt over his shoulder as he cups the back of her head. She hums distractedly, leans a bit towards him but doesn’t dare stop reading. He knows she likes to end chapters before bed so he simply presses a kiss to her temple and right below her ear. Her skin is hot and dewy under his lips, most likely from the sweater she’s wearing and he makes a mental note to get it off of her the moment he crawls into bed.

But for now he disappears into the master bathroom, shrugging off his clothes and dropping them in the hamper. A quick cool shower refreshes him, eases his bones and muscles to the point that he feels like jello when he enters the bedroom again. She’s still in the same spot on the bed, nose in her book but he’s hoping the sight of him crossing their room in nothing but a towel will catch her attention.

Nico digs out a pair of boxers, dropping his towel so he can pull them up his legs. Once the band sits low on his hips he pretends to fix his hair in the dresser mirror, utilizing the chance to peek at her in the reflection. To his utter dismay, she’s still got her eyes on the stupid pages of the book. He’s about to sigh, maybe pout a bit, and open and slam the drawer again so she’ll look at him. Until he notices the look on her face.

What he thought was concentration before is in fact something else. The way she’s tucked her lip into her mouth, teeth turning the flesh ruby red. Wide eyes, intrigued and excited as they flutter over the pages. No not excited, enticed. And her warm skin he’d felt earlier, he decides, isn’t from her sweatshirt. He bets he could see her pulse beating in her neck if he got close enough.

If it weren’t for that stupid book Nico would think that she did in fact watch him get dressed and is trying to hide how flustered it made her. But she’s been warm and distracted like that since he walked in the room. What is she reading?

He turns around, arms crossing over his chest as he just watches her. If she notices his staring she doesn’t care because her fingers just flip the page and her teeth continue to gnaw at her lips. It distracts him for a moment, the way her bottom one has swelled and bled into the skin around her lips. It reminds him of how good her smile always looks after he’s messily kissed her breathless.

It’s the movement of her legs that brings him back to his task. She uncrosses her legs for just a second, stretching them across the bed before swapping her right leg over the left. He catches the way she wiggles, how her bare toes curl just for a beat and his stomach swoops.

She’s reading porn.

There’s no way she’s not. He knows her tells, her mannerisms when she’s turned on. Knows how her eyes light up and grow hungry, all starry and desperate. He’s seen first hand how her skin flushes and grows warm, how he can press his tongue to the pulse in her neck and feel her heart pounding.

Intrigued, Nico moves towards the foot of the bed. He wills his smirk to go away, playing innocent as he knees his way onto the mattress. On instinct she separates her legs for him, allowing him to climb up her body. Nico has a habit of snuggling into her like this when she reads so he barely has to duck down under her book as she lifts it for him. Settling his hips in her parted thighs, Nico rests his head on her shoulder, closing his eyes with his nose pressed into her neck. Sure enough he can hear the rapid beat of her heart, smell the arousal on her neck.

“Baby,” he murmurs as her elbows come to rest on his back. Nico doesn’t need to look to know she’s still reading, but he feels her hum in response.

“Do you love me?”

She laughs quietly. “I love you Nico.”

He smiles, presses his lips to her neck and teases the tip of his tongue along her warm skin. Her breath shudders, a leg comes up around his waist and nudges him closer. He hisses quietly, the semi he’s been sporting since he realized what she was doing presses comfortably into her thighs.

“Will you read to me?”

She hesitates. He hears her heart beat jump. “No…”

“Please?” He begs, “I want to hear the story.”

She giggles nervously. “I don’t want to.”

Nico nips at her neck again, shifting his hips into her even more. The thin cotton underwear she’s wearing does nothing to hide the heat between her legs.

“Because you’re reading something dirty?”

Almost immediately she shuts the book, jolting as much as she possibly can with his weight on her. Nico grins devilishly as she moves to shove the book under the pillows.

He laughs, pushing himself up to his knees so he can make a grab for the book but she hugs it to her chest instead, squealing at his pawing hands. Nico tries to wiggle his large hands under her elbows and then her biceps, anywhere to gain access to that book but she just laughs and squeezes it tighter. It gets to the point that his grabby hands are just tickling her, making her curl up into herself and putting the book even more out of reach.

“Let me see!” He shouts through giggles, cheeks throbbing from smiling so hard. She laughs again, shaking her head no and somehow managing to wiggle onto her stomach under him. With the book now hidden between her and the mattress, Nico rests all his weight on the back of her thighs, pining her down.

“My arms are falling asleep,” she says breathlessly, looking at him over her right shoulder. Nico scoops her hair out of the way, pushing it over her left shoulder so she can see him better.

“Give me the book and I’ll let you go.”

She scoffs, still refusing. Knowing she’ll have to give in eventually Nico simply drapes himself over her back, ghosting his lips over the back of her neck. Goosebumps rise on her skin and she shivers, wiggling under him with a tiny giggle. Smirking, Nico presses the bulge in his boxers into her butt, letting his small moan run over her neck in a hot breath.

“Nico stop,” she protests quietly, and if he thought she actually meant it he would. But he can hear it in her voice, how turned on she is. She knows he’s going to break her, even if he has to use his mouth and hands to do it. He’s determined to see that book and if he has to rile her up, tease her into giving it to him, he will.

“Stop what?” He murmurs innocently, sitting up and ghosting his hand down her back. His fingers find the hem of her sweatshirt, pushing it up to reveal the dimples at the base of her spine and the curve of her bottom. He presses his thumb into the dip, licking his lips when he hears the pleasured noise she chokes back. Nico grips her side, holds her still so he can press himself into her even more.

She laughs softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Stop putting your dick on me!”

Nico laughs, amused at her whininess and her words. For a moment he lets himself feel the bubble of love in his chest, the way it makes him float, tethered to the ground by nothing but her. He almost abandons all thoughts of seeing that book in favor of seeing her especially when his other hand falls to her waist, gripping her side and rutting his hips forward on instinct.

It’s just enough to tease him, to remind him of what it feels like to have her bent over their bed like this while he makes them feel good. Sometimes this is what he thinks about on long road trips away from her, when he wants to replay the pleasure in his head. He pictures her on their bed. And what about her? Does she read this stuff? Is it the words of someone else that makes her feel good when he’s not home?

“No,” Nico finally says, an edge of whininess in his own tone now. He doesn’t like the thought of her preferring that stupid book over him. “not until you let me see that book.”

She groans in annoyance, turning her head to bury her face in the pillows of the bed. Nico eases up on her, lifts his weight back into his knees so he’s just caging her in. With the space to move again, she flops back over onto her back, his hands following her movements as she goes.

Nico smiles when she looks at him, her cheeks flush and eyes shift over his face. She’s nervous, he realizes and not just in a please-fuck-me way but actual anxiety. He softens, cups her face in his right hand and leans down to press his lips to hers. It’s just a quick, soft peck but the reassurance he was trying to convey must come across as she lets out a breath of relief.

“Just want to know what you like,” Nico explains “I’m not going to tease or laugh. S’like I just want to know what I’m competing with.”

Her hold on the book slackens the tiniest bit. “Compete with?” She questions “Nico you have no competition. Nothing could even compare.”

Pride swells in his chest. Her praise makes his veins buzz, his dick throb in his boxers. He’s tempted to pull himself from the fabric, provide a little relief from how tight his underwear has gotten but now might not be the time.

“Still,” he presses “I’m curious my love.”

She rolls her eyes but a smile tugs at her lips and he knows he’s won her over. Eager, Nico bites at his bottom lip and sits back on his haunches, hands running down her thighs appreciatively.

“Fine,” she relents “but you have to close your eyes.” Nico opens his mouth to object, already prepared to lean foreword and bribe her with kisses. “And only a page!”

“That’s not fair!”

“My book, my rules Hischier. Now close ‘em.”

Huffing, Nico does as told and closes his eyes. Surrounded by darkness, his other senses peak, making him hyper aware of her warm skin and heavy breaths. The rustle of the book as she flips to her previous page is loud in his ears and it makes his stomach knot with anticipation. His mind reels, flashing through different scenarios she could be reading about and each one he pictures behind closed eyelids has his dick growing thicker. He feels a bit pathetic when it only takes her a minute to find her spot in the book and he’s already on the verge of reaching down to rub one out because he’s so excited.

Before he can really think about it she’s clearing her throat softly, her legs adjusting under him just the tiniest bit. He wonders if she’s still nervous about reading to him, not that she should be.

“Kay,” she croaks quietly, “you ready?”

Nico nods, licking over his lips anxiously and digging his fingers into her thick thighs to ground himself. He’s not too sure he likes this whole not being able to see thing, but for her he’ll try anything.

“She had never met someone like him, been with someone like him. She had only known one kind of loving, the hard and fast kinds that felt good in the moment but burned out quickly. It only lingers for as long as the muscles in her thighs burn and by the time the sweat on her skin has dried, she’s left with nothing but that too fast lover next to her.

“Jax is different-“

Nico scrunches his nose at the name of this man, thinking it’s far too close to the name Jack and far too different from his own name.

“With him comes passion. A slow burning candle rather than a fast lit fuse. She likes that he takes his time, drags his mouth over every inch of skin he can get. Just as he does now. Plump, wet lips moving up her thighs, soft in their kiss but rough with intent. Jax nips at her flesh, licks closer and closer to the bundle of nerves he’d just abused with his fingers-“

He can hear in her voice how enthralled she is with this man, or at least with what he’s doing. Her words are breathy and hot, some barely murmurs from her lips. Nico can’t seem to tell if he should be jealous of this fake character or impressed. In just a paragraph Jax has knocked his girl breathless and horny, filled her voice with a lust that has Nico’s cock aching.

She continues reading, retelling Jax’s wet and sloppy head performance on the main character but Nico’s not exactly paying attention anymore. Not to the book at least. Instead he’s listening to her, soaking in the sound of her describing what it feels like on the woman’s side. How it burns in her belly, swirls in her chest, curls her toes. He likes hearing her breath catch when she talks about how it aches, how she’s greedy for the pleasure this man provides.

It’s like she’s physically remembering what that feels like. His girl pauses for a moment, her soft pants filling the air and he suddenly realizes how hard he’s breathing, how sweat is building on his neck and shoulders. He’s holding her thighs for dear life, clutching at her like she might disappear under his fingertips.

“Don’t stop,” he begs quietly, desperate to hear her repeat the moment this girl in the book comes. He needs to know if there’s reminiscing in her tone, if she’s recalling moments she’s felt that good as she reads.

“I don’t want to read anymore,” she replies, and he hears her shut the book. He opens his eyes just in time to see her carelessly toss it to the floor. The room is bright when he looks down at her and black spots swim in his vision from how tightly he’d closed his eyes.

She looks up at him with dark eyes, her lips swollen and bitten red. Her teeth catch the bottom one again, sinking into the flesh and his painfully hard dick throbs so deep it hurts in his gut. As if sensing his pain, her eyes flicker down to his lap. Instinctively, Nico widens his thighs for her, welcoming her closer. Abiding, she lifts a hand from the bedsheets and places it over the one he now has splayed across her belly, squeezing his fingers momentarily. Then she’s trailing her fingers towards him, slow and teasing.

“You like the book?” She questions with a hint of amusement. Nico’s brain swirls, his eyes watching her fingertips dance down her sweater and towards the bulge in his boxers. When he doesn’t answer she slows her movements and he huffs frustratedly before finally coming up with a response.

“Is that what it feels like?” He asks “For you? S’that why you read it?”

His tone isn’t condescending or mean, not a hint of judgment on his tongue. He’s just intrigued, curious. Nico never in a million years thought a porn book could turn him on let alone his girl, especially when they’ve got each other to help out. He wants to know what it is that made her read that book instead of coming to him.

“Kind of,” she responds, her hand now on his thigh. “He reminds me of you.”

Nico swallows. Hard. His tongue feels like sandpaper in his mouth and her fingers suddenly weigh heavy on his skin. He tries to think of something to say, knows he has a million things he could say to her but nothing comes to mind. She thinks this guy is like him?

“Some of the things he does.” She continues “How he teases and picks on her but he’s still safe and sweet. And he’s strong but not with her.

"It's you, you're straight from a romance novel."

God she hasn’t even touched him yet and he thinks he’s going to come. With every little compliment his cock thickens more (if that’s even possible) and his skin is buzzing. Like a flip has switched, his mouth waters, his mind slows down just enough for him to meet her gaze. Her pupils blown wide and dark, eyes shiny with need. He smirks.

“Can’t even read a book without thinking of me?” He murmurs “I’m that good huh?”

She simpers, realizing he’s come back to himself. “So good Nico.”

He swipes his hands under her sweater, pushes it up her abdomen and chest until she has to pull her hand back. She sits up just enough for him to pull it over her head, tossing it to floor as he takes in her newly exposed skin. Not that he really needs to. He could draw her body ten shots in and with his eyes closed.

While he’s busy admiring the dip of her collarbones, the way her nipples have hardened in the cool air, she sneaks her hand back down between them. Nico’s just made up his mind to mark her left breast with his teeth when she cups his cock through his underwear.

White flashes in his vision, tingles of pleasure shooting down his legs and he practically falls forward into her from how sensitive he’s grown. Nico crashes his mouth into her smiling one, silencing her amused giggles with his tongue. He nips at her bottom lip, grunting when she methodically squeezes him in her palm.

“You gonna let me make you come like that?” He asks, lips ghosting over hers. She holds his gaze, eyes dreamy and far off like he’s just kissed her silly. “On my tongue? Always taste so good sweetheart.”

It takes a second, but she eventually mumbles a displeased sound. “Just want you to fuck me Nico. Been waiting long enough.”

She catches his lips again, this time taking over as she swipes her tongue at his bottom lip before drawing back and sinking her teeth into it. He hisses, ruts his hips into her hand.

“Could’ve been fucking you a while ago if you’d put down that book,” he informs, pushing himself back up to his knees. "I even put on a little show for you before I got dressed."

Nico wraps his fingers around her wrist, pulling her hand back from him and instead bringing it up to his mouth. She whines at his interruption, eyebrows pinching together but he just smiles, pressing lazy kisses to her palm and fingers.

“You know I looked,” she whispers, eyes flickering down his body just once before meeting his gaze again. “I always look.”

Teasing, Nico cocks his head to the side. “Still pretended like you didn’t see me? Ouch babe.”

Something like shyness bleeds into her features, her gaze growing bashful. “Didn’t want to be needy.”

Oh his sweet girl. Doesn’t she know that she’s always needy? It’s one of his favorite things about her. How clingy and pliant she gets when he fucks her, when she’s desperate for his touch.

Nico intertwines their fingers, pushing them onto the pillow by her head as he leans back down to kiss her.

“Never stopped you before…” he murmurs, kissing her chin. Before she can respond he’s getting up, pulling her with him by the hand until they’re both standing at the bottom of the bed. His hands move to her hips, drawing her up to her tip toes and into his chest. She complies, rising to meet his mouth as she holds his face between her palms.

Her skin is soft and warm under his fingertips, begging to be traced and worshipped by him. Nico tugs her in closer, her belly pressing into his cock has his knees shaking and she greedily swallows the moan that escapes him.

Slipping his fingers into the waistband of her underwear, Nico drags his hand around to her ass, pawing at his favorite part of her. Well almost favorite, he still fucking loves her smile more than anything else.

She parts from his mouth, panting out a whimper when he digs his nails into her skin just enough to sting. The sound has him needy for more, aching to hear her again so he tugs down her underwear. He works it down her thighs until the cotton fabric falls to her ankles where she trips trying to kick it away, stumbling just enough that her arms lock around his neck for stability. The moment tugs him forward, his nose bumping into the corner of her eye.

He cups her face, running the pad of his thumb over the outer corner of her eye as she giggles. She’s clearly not in any pain or discomfort from the little bump in, but Nico kisses the area just to be safe before connecting his mouth to hers again. Her arms fall from his neck to his abdomen, fingers tracing over the dips of his stomach for a moment but when he trembles with shivers she moves them to his back. While she’s busy mapping out his spine his fingers find the end of her messy braid. She might not like it but he slips the hair tie off anyway, blindly unbraiding her oiled hair.

“Blegh,” he jokes, pulling his hand back from her hair and scrunching his nose “what is that?”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes shoving his hand down. He grabs her waist, smoothing his hand back over her ass. “It’s oil to protect my ends while I sleep.”

“You couldn’t have done that after we have sex?”

“I was ready for bed!” She exclaims around a laugh, shaking her head when he just grins at her. Nico loves this, loves her. And he really loves that he’s lucky enough to fondle her butt and make her smile at the same time. He thinks he could probably die here in this moment and be happy.

She has other ideas.

“Oh fuck!”

One of her hands has snuck into his boxers, pulling the band back enough for his cock to spring up and her to fit her fingers around the width of him. The feeling of her warm fingertips on his sensitive skin jolts him, almost makes his knees buckle as pleasure shoots down his legs.

He never knows how she manages to get ahold of him so quickly and smoothly like that but it drives him wild every time. It’s like she knows to distract him with her beautiful laugh and pretty little eyes just so she can surprise him like that.

“Now that you’ve messed up my hair,” she tantalizes, leaning in close to his face. Her lips ghost over his, breath warm on his face. “Are you gonna finish the job Nico?”

Nico closes the gap, bites at her bottom lip harshly before soothing his tongue over it. He’s rough with it, more than he has been all night but if she’s going yo keep teasing him he’s going to make her pay for it.

Before the kiss can get too distracting he’s pulling back, licking his lips as he uses his hold on her ass and waist to spin her around. Her gasp of surprise has him smirking, nudging her forward onto the bed with a gentle but sturdy hand on the back of her neck.

“Finish the fucking job,” he mutters under his breath, lips quirking into a smile when she giggles into the mattress. “Just how I like it.”

He smoothes his hands over her ass as he says it, presses his slightly clothed cock forward. His toes curl, eyelids fluttering as he ruts into her once just to tease himself a bit more. The little bead of precum that slips out of the bare head of his cock is enough though, and he quickly shoves his underwear down with his left hand.

They get kicked off to the side somewhere, immediately forgotten in favor of the enticing woman bent over in front of him. Nico drops his hand between her spread thighs, two fingers growing straight to her dripping cunt. She mewls, arching her back as he spreads her wetness around. If he were feeling more patient tonight he’d take a moment to make her cum on his fingers but his cock is far too hard and heavy to do that now.

Instead he grips himself with the fingers that had just been teasing her, holding the base of his cock steady as he presses the head of him into her folds. She’s so fucking warm and inviting, her hips tilting to try and get him to push in further but he holds, inhaling deeply to keep himself bursting as soon as he’s fully seated inside her.

“Nico,” she whines, drawing out the last letter “more, please more.” And who is he to deny to his sweet girl, especially after she asked him so nicely. In one swift motion Nico fills her up, thighs and hips flush against her damp skin.

The noise he lets out is almost pathetic, a borderline whimper that squeaks out from the back of his throat the moment his cock is enveloped by her slick walls. But it’s nothing compared to her own sounds, whiny and pleasured gasps that make his stomach twist in pleasure.

Settling himself, Nico inhales deeply and talked a hold of her hips in both hands. He can’t hold back any longer, head titling back as he finally moves. With the knowledge that her book and his teasing had worked her up into a frenzy, Nico decides they’ve both had enough foreplay.

He’s deep and thorough with it, fucking into her until his lower belly is tight against the curve of her ass and then pulling back until just the tip of him teases at her walls.

“Oh fuck,” Nico groans when she rocks back on him, squeezing his cock. It feels good, she feels so fucking good. But he wants to fuck her, not the other way around.

He gathers her hair in his right hand, weaving the strands around his fingers tightly. He makes sure not to pull but keeps his hold strong enough that she’ll stop grinding back on him.

Nico waits for her to still before picking up his pace again, rutting his hips forward before pulling back, dragging his thick cock through her walls. Hitching forward, Nico presses his chest to her back, free hand wrapping around to hold the pudge of her stomach. She goes soft in his embrace, collapsing to the mattress until just his hands are keeping her up.

“Good girl,” he purrs in her ear, chuckling huskily when she clenches down on his cock and he ruts into her again. “My good girl…”

Pressing a wet kiss just below her ear, Nico straightens back up so he can have the leverage he needs to make her cum. And he does just that, holding her ass up and wrapping his fingers around her hair, Nico drives his cock into her until her knees wobble and give out. She squeezes his cock, pulsing with every deep push of his hips and whimpering into their bed sheets.

Nico’s arms burn from holding her up, thighs tight from being tensed for too long and the pull behind his belly button is so strong it’s uncomfortable. Still, he chases his own high, eyes fluttering shut and head tilted back as he abuses her spent pussy.

“Come on Nico,” he hears her encourage, voice begging. It makes his toes curl, the coil in his belly tighten even more. “I want you to come, please come for me.”

White stars burst behind closed eyelids, veins buzzing and burning in the best way possible as Nico releases his load into her. Cock still throbbing, he falls forward into her, squishing her between him and the mattress.

“Fuck me,” Nico mumbles, planting a kiss to her shoulder blade. Unable to stop himself, he ruts into her one more time just to hear how wet she is, feel how full he’s left her. She whimpers, overstimulated and tries to wiggle away but he’s got her pinned. Not that it matters, if he moves anymore he thinks his dick might fall off.

“M’gonna have to read that book of yours,” he declares, pushing himself up now that his muscles feel semi-normal. Gently, he slips out of her, cupping his softening member in his palm. She laughs as he promises to return in a second, moving into the bathroom for a towel. He cleans himself up before going back to her, still perched on the edge of the bed. Nico has to physically stop himself from looking between her thighs where he knows his cum probably dripping from her, afraid he’ll somehow get hard again.

“Would you hurry,” she dramatically complains, her smile present in her tone “my legs are tired.”

Snorting, Nico quickly helps clean her up, wiping the mess between her legs before folding the towel up and wiping at the sweat on her back with the dry area. He dots kisses to her bare skin as he does so, lightly slapping her ass before he discards of the soiled towel.

He digs up their discarded pjs, slipping his boxers back on before helping her into a shirt and her underwear. She’s braiding her hair again when Nico tucks himself into his side of the bed, finding her book by his nightstand.

Smirking he grabs it, humming thoughtfully while she quickly gets ready for bed. “Read me a bedtime story?” He requests, jutting out his bottom lip when she turns to face him.

Laughter bubbles out of her when she sees the book in his hand, rolling her eyes as she ties off her braid and climbs onto the bed.

“That’s enough of that book tonight,” she says, tugging it from his fingers and putting it back on the nightstand. Nico watches her slip under the blankets, rearranging her pillows before slipping low under the sheets.

She’s so fucking beautiful it hurts him.

Nico shuts off the bedside lamp, leaving them in the darkness before he too settles lower on the pillows. Then he wiggles closer to her, tucking himself into her side and throwing a leg over hers. She giggles, lays her hand over his before turning her head to him.

“I love you Nico,” she whispers, eyes glowing in the little bit of light in the room.

“Love you more sweetheart.” He replies, sealing their lips together for a chaste goodnight kiss. They break apart, settling in for sleep as the events of the night catch up with them. Nico’s barely conscious when he makes a mental reminder to find her more dirty books.

#nico hischier #nhl #new jersey devils #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier smut

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 month

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AITA for ignoring my friend's "advice" for my OC?

Using fake names for this and also including race because that is relevant to this.

Cast: Me (Mexican Female), Julie (16 White Female), Nico (16 Mexican Male), Gina (16 Chinese Female), and Karry (16 Black Female)

My friends and I were all making our own ocs to do an original story together. After we had completed all of them with reference pictures and backstories written, we all shared them in a discord chat.

Karry started acting dodgy whenever I would speak about my oc, and she would ignore my messages that were directly speaking to her. So Gina offered to speak to her for me on my behalf, but Karry had ignored her as well.

So Nico and Julie decided to bring it up in the main chat and Karry got mad about that. Then she started saying that she wanted me and Gina to make changes because there were some things she did not think were right about them. I asked her what it was, and she said that it was the fact that we gave our non-black ocs braids (singular thick braid). I had said I didn't see anything wrong with that.

Apparently that was a mistake because Karry blew up and me. She went on and on about how braids were a significant part of black culture and was primarily a black hairstyle. She said that it was wrong for anyone who wasn't black to be using that hairstyle and that people who did that were doing cultural appropriation. Gina argued that braids were in other cultures as well and that she would not be changing her oc, and I agreed with her. Karry called us both racist assholes for not listening to what she had to say.

Nico and Julie also sided with her saying that we were being assholes for ignoring what a black person had to say about their own culture. And that we should just change it so our ocs didn't wear braids in their hair to make Karry happy because she was not talking to any of us now. I want to stand my ground, but it feels like Karry is also right. Maybe I should change it so my oc doesn't wear her hair in a braid, but Gina refuses to change it because she says the braid style she is using is part of her culture. I'm not sure if I am doing the right thing if I keep my oc with a braid, but I also don't want to do changes because I like how she looks now.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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raphael-angele · 13 days

Text

If Hades raised Nico and Bianca Part 26 (Babysitting)

Artemis, entering: Apollo, where is- Who is that?

Apollo, holding baby Nico: Hm? Him? Oh, this is Uncle Hades' son. His name is Nico. He's squishy

Artemis: Well, he is adorable *approaches*

Apollo: *turning away* Hey, back off. He's my squishy. Get your own.

Artemis:

Bianca: *tugs on Artemis' clothes*

Artemis: *looks down* Oh...well hello there. *picks her up* What's your name?

---

Bianca: Uncle, look! I found a seashell!

Poseidon: Oh, that's a pretty one, Bianca. It's shiny, too.

Bianca: Can I keep it?

Poseidon: Of course

Nico, pulling Poseidon's arm: Uncle Popo! Uncle Popo!

Poseidon: Woah. Slow down there, Nico. What's wrong?

Nico: Look! *shows baby turtles crawling to the sea*

Poseidon: Oh, look at that. They're going to the sea for the first time.

Nico: We have to help them! *tries to pick one up*

Poseidon: Uph! Not so fast, little one. We can't do that.

Nico: But-

Poseidon: They have to do it on their own. Or else they'll never learn how.

---

Bianca: AARRGH!

Ares: *sigh* C'mon. One more time

Bianca: I don't wanna anymore. This is stupid. >:(

Ares: Look, it's normal to fall on your first few times.

Bianca: But I've been practicing for months now.

Ares: Doesn't matter; you'll still fall. Doesn't matter how good you are. You'll still make mistakes. But if you want to be better than now, then you have to keep going. Understand?

Bianca: Yes, Mr. Ares.

Ares: Alright, c'mon. Stand up, dust yourself off, and let's perfect this dance.

---

Nico, playing with Hera's peacocks: Hehe, hehe. Pretty.

Hera: Who are you?

Nico: Hm?

Hera: How did you get in here?

Nico: I-I...

Hera: What are you doing in here?

Nico: ...the peacocks...

Hera: What?

Nico: The peacocks were hungry. So I gave them food. They took me in here.

Hera:

Nico: I'm sorry, Ms. Hera.

Hera: *sigh then picks him up* You shouldn't be here, little one. Olympus is not a playground for you to wander on.

Nico: I'm sorry.

Hera: And it's very rude to enter someone's chambers without their permission.

---

Aphrodite, waking up: *looks in the mirror to see her hair full of flowers* What the-

Aphrodite: *looks back in her bed*

Nico: *sleeping with a basket of flowers on the side of the bed*

...

Bianca: Ms. Aphrodite

Aphrodite, braiding Bianca's hair: Yes, Bianca?

Bianca: What if I don't want to fall in love? Will you get mad at me?

Aphrodite: Of course not. Love isn't for everyone. Some people prefer to focus on other things like their work or something else.

Bianca: But...I don't wanna be lonely

Aphrodite: You don't have to be. Just because you don't want to fall in love with others doesn't mean they don't love you. And it wont always be a romantic kind of love.

Bianca: What do you mean?

Aphrodite: Hmm, you know how you love your brother very much? Well, that's a different kind of love. Or when you love your friends, that's also a different kind of love.

Bianca: So...you'd be okay if I never get a husband?

Aphrodite: Of course I would. You'd only be hurting yourself if you're forcing yourself to love someone you don't really love. *finishes braiding her hair* And, done!

Bianca, looks in the mirror: ...wow

Aphrodite: Do you like it?

Bianca: I love it...I look like mama

---

Nico: O-once...up-upon...a time... *trying to read Puss in Boots*

Athena: You're doing well, Nico.

Bianca, pointing to a word in her book: Ms. Athena, what does this word mean? Exqui-Exquisite?

Athena: It's an adjective. When something is exquisite, it means it looks beautiful.

---

Nico: Choo choo! Uncle Hepha! Can I play with choo choo?

Hephaestus: Sure, why not? Just don't touch it, okay? You'll hurt yourself.

Bianca: Uncle Hephaestus, can you please fix this? *shows him a trinket*

Hephaestus: What is it? *takes it*

Bianca: It was our mama's music box. When you open it, it should make a pretty sound and the people in the middle should dance around. But they stopped dancing.

Hephaestus: Alright. I'll try and fix it. But I can't guarantee you that I can

---

Nico: HAHAHAHAHA! AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN!

Hermes: Nico, we've run around 5 times already. You're gonna throw up at this point

Nico: No, I'm not.

Hermes: Yes, you are. That's enough running around.

Nico: Aww :(

Hermes: How about instead, we go and prank your Uncle Apollo? :D

Nico: YEA!

Hermes: What are we thinking? Cut the reigns on his chariot? Cover his chambers in tin foil? Shoot him in the butt?

---

Zeus: Ah! Hello, little ones. Why don't you come here and give your uncle Zeus a hug?

Bianca:

Nico:

Zeus: Come on

Nico: *throws the dummy sword Zagreus gave him*

Bianca: *throws the dummy sword Achilles gave her*

Zeus: Ow!

Hades: ...good work, children! :D

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novalizinpeace · 3 months

Note

In the season of love I’m curious to know, how the other critters show their love?

We have already seen that Callem kind of shows his affection through physical touch, more specifically caring for the others hair (Braiding Albas mane, and brushing Nell’s fur).

But what do the others do or what kind of affection is most affected for them to be shown they are loved?

this question is simple, 'cause you can divide the gang in two groups

the ''touchy'' groups are the first to go hug someone after thinking they we're in danger, the first to jump over you to play fight, the ones that don't think it twice when someone wants cuddles. As you said, Callem specific way of show this if with grooming others, while with Amara she like to cuddles, her favorite cuddle buddies been Mommy and Bebe.

and Alba tend to be really physical with anyone that she knows it good with it, most of the time without noticing it.

on the other side with the ''no touchy'' ones, each of them have their way to show feelings. Charlie for example likes to write, a lot, and he like to let others knows he's listening when they speak to him, so he show them in a... big way.

(the kicker here, he doesn't even like the cartoon, but took the time to watch it and writte 43 different fanfics to keep them happy for a while)

On the other side, Nico likes to show and give new things to others, specially those things that she find resemble more the one she's giving it. Alba is the number #1 fan of her collection.

Samina isn't really a big show off of affection, but the way you can see she cares is when she take care's of the heretic's food: Even when using ingredients like rotten meat, dead rats, mushroom, mold and expired food in general, she likes to make a good presentation when is food time, she had even cook the roaches for Nico and Callem to prevent them from eating them raw. She may not be a good hugger or a good speaker, but she put her heart in her food.

Now, Nell is in the middle 'cause he doesn't like physical affection due traumas (both in his pastlife and in his actual life), but had become comfortable enough with some in the gangs to allow it (like Callem's hugs). But about how he show his feelings...

He don't, that his big problem: any time someone try to become closer with him, he back off, he hide, he run, something in his mind prevent him from go deeper in a relationship, telling him that they all can dissapear in any moment or that he could mess everything up and fail them, make him retreat and even become aggresive if someone try to force a social situation on him, and the only reason the gang still see him as their friends is because they know he's like that and isn't doing it on purpose, they know he actually care for all of them, so they don't force him, that's also why Callem isn't honest with his feeling or try to take the inniciative, 'cause he doesn't want to force Nell in any way and end up with a friend hiding from him.

But at this point in his life, even he's tired of it.

#poppy playtime #smiling critters #smiling critters arg #ask #nova say

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

Text

———

“Hm,” Piper says, fingers steepled. She looks very intently at the air in front of her. “Hm.”

Nico scowls impatiently. “Feel free to be helpful at any given time. Now, even, if you’re so inclined.”

“Have you considered that the reason you’re so infatuated with Will is because you may be blessed by Apollo?”

“I’m infatuated with Will because he is the physical manifestation of everything I value in a person,” Nico says automatically. Then he frowns, processing the rest of Piper’s sentence. “Wait, what?”

Nico understands his error as the grin on her face stretches into something truly grotesque. “I was going to make a joke about your drama levels, but thank you for that. I’m really looking forward to telling several dozen people and delighting in the knowledge that you’re going to curl up into a bundle of humiliation under your bunk tonight as you think about it.”

Instead of answering, Nico decides to walk away. Since there is so much blood concentrated in his skull, resting mostly around his face region, he takes two steps and begins to pass out, but luckily Piper has followed him and impedes a head injury by gripping his arm and merrily forcing him forward.

“So,” she says, steering them towards the amphitheatre, “what’s Plan B?”

“Bold of you to assume there was a Plan A.”

“You like Sunny Boy way too much to walk in there blind.”

“…Touché.”

She’s smug enough to be silent, slinging an arm over Nico’s shoulders as they walk. The closer they get, the harder Nico is forced to grapple with just how godsdamn much he’s softened. I want you to be happy, Father had said. Camp will be good for you, Chiron had agreed. You’re a little twit and need socializing, Mr. D had snipped.

Nico needs a better father figure. He wonders if Paul Blofis’ offer is still open.

The amphitheater is not, of course, empty when they arrive, because Nico knows the Fates personally and each of them despises him. The actual training part is empty — unsurprising — but the stands are moderately filled, with people gossiping, braiding hair, and if Nico is not mistaken, a small, pop-up nail painting salon. Mitchel lifts a purple-smeared hand in an absentminded wave as they step onto the packed dirt.

Nico ducks under Piper’s arm, turning to face her. “I need to fight you,” he informs her. “For my own personal pride.”

She nods thoughtfully. “It does indeed need restoring.” He curved, icy blade gleams in the early afternoon sun, mirroring her dangerous smile. “Square up.”

Since honour is for nerds, Nico doesn’t bother waiting. He simply attacks, lunging for the left side Piper always leaves open. Unfortunately for him, her recent meddling in his love life means her mother has blessed her with a little sprinkling of extra verve, and she dodges easily and cheerfully.

He sends a glum mental prayer down to his father.

Anytime you’re feeling generous, Pop, he grumbles, I would love a boost.

There’s an actual rumble to the ground, as his father laughs at him.

“Real kind,” he says out loud. “Dick.”

“I wonder if you would have more success in the wooing department if you had conversations outside of your own head,” Piper says sweetly. She spins her sword in a neat little circle by his face. “All bay brooding makes you look so…broody.”

Nico scoffs at her. “Will seems to like my broodiness. For some reason. So there.”

“And yet…” She trails off, shooting him a teasing look. Nico is unfortunately very easy to tease (thanks, Bianca) (and for that measure thanks, Hazel) (Reyna too, probably) (and honestly Annabeth) (gods, and Percy) (don’t even get him started on Leo) (really, it would be more prudent to name the people who do not take sick pleasure in driving him up the wall) and as such succumbs easily to her tormenting, taking a hard hit to the side when he’s too keyed up to avoid her spinning slash.

“Note to self, don’t let the monsters know about big embarrassing crushes,” she muses. “They make Nico sloppy and will get him killed in battle.”

She mimes writing something down. This, thankfully, leaves her distracted enough that Nico gets his sword levered against hers, twisting until she’s disarmed. She lifts both hands up in surrender when he points a sword at her throat, but remains entirely unaffected by his glare.

“Pride re-instated?” she asks.

Nico huffs. “No.”

…Yes.

“You’re such a grouch,” she says fondly. She tries to ruffle his hair and is forcibly stopped by his jab to her ribs. Unfortunately, Piper McLean takes no shit sitting down, and in a minute they’re on the floor, getting caked in dust, trying to see who can leave the most bruises on the other. Nico would wager that they’re just about tied.

“You have a list,” Piper grunts, muffled as she bites his bicep. He shouts, wrenching his arm away — she is pointy. “I have no idea what you’re all mopey about.”

He digs his knee into the small of her back. “I gave him flowers! He made a poultice out of them!”

“Technically, you made the poultice.”

He elbows her in the stomach. She shrieks and jabs her knuckles right under his eye.

“You’re so annoying!”

“Ugh!”

Every part of Nico’s body aches. So badly. He’s not sure which one of them won their brawl, if either, but he knows for sure that he is actively turning purple. He feels like the first time his nonna gave him a hammer and a piece of cutlet — he was maybe five years old — and told him to flatten it. (He remembers, now, the look on her face as she wiped pulverized chicken flesh from her eye. Oops.)

“Go to Will and get healed up?”

Nico huffs a laugh, immediately wincing at the strain on his tender ribs.

“Yep. Let’s go.”

The walk is miserable and bruised. And slow, since both of them are limping. Several campers walk by snickering, since apparently Saving The Entire Damn World, For Real And Actually, You Ungrateful Brat, Should I Just Destroy It Again Then earns you no permanent respect.

It’s not too bad, though. Nico would rather chomp on concrete than admit it out loud, but Piper isn’t horrible company, and she hums when she walks. Bianca did the same thing. For once, it’s a pleasant reminder, although he does wonder if Nico will ever be able to look at the women in his life and not think of her.

(In all honesty, probably not. He sees her in the clouds, in the gnarled bark of the trees; feels her in the warmth of the sun; hears her in every snorting laugh. He likes to imagine how much she would love these women, though. If she were alive they would be her friends first. He knows she was happy with the Hunters, however briefly. He thinks he can maybe forgive himself if he thinks of her without weeping.)

“Least it doesn’t look too busy today,” Piper comments. She purses her lips at the Big House, which for once seems quiet. Perhaps Will made good on his threats and finally dosed the Hermes’ table breakfast spread with Benadryl. Nico would be proud. He deserves a day of peace.

“Great. That means we get the full force of Will’s bitching on us alone.”

Piper scoffs. “Please. You like it when he yells at you.”

Nico almost kills her for real. By the time she manages to kick him off of her, still snickering to herself, they both have a new layer of bruises on top of the old ones.

“Gods, di Angelo, you make it so easy —”

“Shut up,” he says hotly. “You are literally the most annoying person in this stupid camp.”

She sticks her tongue out at him. He scowls, kicking a rock to avoid kicking her and setting both of them off again. It rolls over the grass, pinging off the side of one of the many braziers and rolling finally to a stop back at his feet. In its new position, it perfectly catches the brightly shining sun, refracting the light in a dandelion-esque burst.

“Huh,” he murmurs.

Wincing at his stiff joints, he crouches, vaguely registering Piper pausing somewhere to the left of him. He scoops the little thing up, bringing it close to his face to inspect.

It’s roughly cut, so it’s not anyone’s jewel or anything. Some of the pieces are textured with tiny little divots, like a regular stone, but some are straight and flat and catch the light. Some kind of crystal, then. It’s dense, about the size of a walnut, and shaped kind of like a brain. It is a very familiar shade of blue.

“Holt Hades, you are sappy.”

Nico flushes, shoving the rock into his pocket. “Nobody asked you, Piper.”

“I asked me! I am always asking me.” She jogs to keep up with his suddenly speedy strides, gripping onto the elbow of his shirt when he tries to move faster. “Is this Plan B? Little gifts.”

“It’s a rock,” he says shortly.

“Diamonds are rocks.”

“I didn’t get him a diamond.” He pauses. “Should I get him a diamond?”

She shrugs. “I dunno. I’m not the one in love with him.”

“Who said anything about —”

“Nico! Piper! Hey!”

“Notice who he called first,” she whispers, right in his ear. She grins over at Will before he can say anything. Or curse her. “Hey, Will! How are you?”

It is unfair for a person to look good in mint scrubs. They don’t even suit him, not really, but he still looks — well, he’s beautiful. His hair is poofier than usual and sticks out like he stuck his finger in a socket, and his beam is so bright Nico has to genuinely squint to look at him, and how is it, honestly, that his freckles look like dappled sunlight? That’s not normal.

“I’m okay.” He waves them inside, not bother to close the door behind them — it’s nice out, and Nico knows he prefers the breeze and sun. “Bored.”

“Not enough ocular surgery to perform?”

Will’s grin turns wry. “Nope.” He reaches out to brush his thumb across Nico’s eye scar. He freezes, holding his breath, hyperaware of those callused fingers as they approach the ever-warming skin of his face, heart galloping in his chest. As soon as Will makes contact — because of course the touch was to get his vitals, c’mon, Nico, head in the game — he frowns.

“Why are so many of your capillaries burst?”

Piper smiles guiltily, holding up a hand.

“I beat him up.”

“Wha — you did not!” He turns to Will, indignant. “We beat each other up! She’s lying!”

Will sighs. He glares at them both for a full forty seconds, then turns his face up to the heavens, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like I do not deserve to be surrounded by this kind of dumbassery. Send lightning through the sky if I should let them suffer.

Nico waits. No lightning comes forth.

Will sighs. “Cot, let’s go, y’all know the drill.”

Piper mouths y’all as she sits down. Nico mouths eat dirt back at her.

“Now, I could hum sum’n and —”

“Sum’n,” Piper whispers delightedly. Nico ignores her.

“— get y’all fixed up good, but y’all’ve pissed me off good —”

Nico takes the initiative to pillow-smack Piper in the face while Will’s back is turned. Luckily, it muffles her shriek.

“— so I’m not gonna do all that.” He closes the cupboard with his hip, hands full of vials. “Ain’t even gonna waste ambrosia on y’all, honestly. Y’get some bruise ointment and a Tylenol ‘cause I know y’all were up to shenanigans.”

He puts a lot of emphasis on ‘nan’. Nico knows he is trying very hard to be stern, but he is in fact very cute, and Nico is putting a lot of his brainpower towards memorizing the specific wrinkle pattern that Will’s nose gets when he’s annoyed. If he says that Will looks like a bunny he might actually get shot, no matter how much Will allegedly seems to like him, so he manages to choke down the sentiment. But it is indeed there.

“— and take it easy, y’hear? Bruises don’t heal in a day.”

Gods, his eyes are really, really pretty. He’s almost tired of thinking it, but they match the sky exactly, all the time. Poets write about sparkling eyes and pretty faces all the time, but all of them can choke because all of them are liars. Will Solace has the prettiest eyes of anyone who has ever lived. They are indeed the windows to the soul, and his soul is just —

“This is for you,” Nico blurts. Essentially acting on its own, his hand slips in his pocket and draws out the blue stone, holding it out. “Um. I saw it and —” He glances at Piper, panicked, and she kicks him in encouragement. “Thought of you. So.”

Will stares at the stone for a moment. Nico sweats.

“Nico di Angelo,” he chides, hands on his hips. The panicked look he flits in Piper’s direction grows tenfold. He is not at all comforted by the grimace she sends back. “Do you think I’m so corrupt as to accept a bribe?”

“Um.” Nico hesitates. Piper smacks her face onto her hands, groaning. “That’s not what I —”

“Well, you would be correct.” Quick as a bird, Will darts out and snatches the stone, sliding it into one of his many (many) shorts pockets, nodding in approval. “I don’t have any aventurine. I’ve been looking for it. Good bribe.”

He sets down the ointment and Tylenol, gesturing for Nico to hold out his hands. Nico sighs, then complies.

“I mean, he didn’t destroy it, this time,” Piper whispers as he begins to sing, enveloping Nico’s body in a warm, golden glow. “So…progress?”

“Progress,” Nico agrees. He glances over at Will, eyes squeezed shut in focus, and rolls his eyes fondly. “Who knew it would be so hard to convince someone who already likes me to go out with me.”

———

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