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littlemisspascal · 2 years

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The Infinity Cube Part 18

Main Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader

Chapter Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader / Marcus Moreno x Female Reader / Nico x Female Reader / Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count: 4600+

Series Summary: When you play with a strange cube, you’re transported out of your current reality with your boyfriend Marcus into brand new ones starring alternate versions of your boyfriend who look and act entirely different every time. With each encounter, you start to wonder if you’ll ever make it back to your real universe?

Warnings for the chapter: Language, canon divergence (Canon? I hardly know her), lots of blood, injuries, violence, weapons--knife, crowbar, guns, major character death, references of sex, angst

Author Note: I’m doing something different with this chapter y’all. Please read the warnings. We’re also very, very close to the end of this fic and I can’t thank y’all enough for coming on this journey. I appreciate every like, comment, and reblog 💝

PART 1 / PART 17 / PART 19

You try to say something back and end up letting out a choked sound instead of words, eyes blown wide with disbelief.

You’re not a virgin–not in this universe or in your own–but regardless, being so boldly propositioned after being assaulted by a bite-happy vampire is more than enough to give you emotional whiplash, thoughts a churning and incoherent mess.

“Are you…” your tongue feels thick and awkward in your mouth, a phantom pinch of pain from when you’d bitten it after Max scared you. “Are you serious?”

Dieter nods, disarrayed and abundantly fluffy curls bobbing with the movement. “Just you and me and a bed…I think we’d be amazing together, angel.”

You tell yourself the sudden bloom of heat in the center of your chest is a reaction to the sunlight and not at all related to the mental image of a shirtless Dieter flickering in your mind.

In past universes, you’ve been dating, engaged, married and also had a child with the different Marcus variants. You probably should have anticipated being dropped into a potentially intimate moment like this one.

You remember the first time you’d turned the cube, when you’d met Din. After consoling you, he’d asked you to join him in his bed, and the memory hurts more than you expect it to. So much has changed since then. You’ve changed since then, not just in terms of continuously swapping physical bodies, but emotionally and mentally as well. You’re no longer only Specs anymore. You’re something else, something more. A hybrid of all the personas you’ve possessed, the loves you’ve experienced, and the losses you’ve endured.

Dio said all will return to the way it was before if you solve the cube, but can you truly trust his word? What if he’s lying? What if the changes are permanent?

If you make it home, will you even recognize yourself?

Dieter remains oblivious to your internal turmoil, still peering at you over the rims of his hundred-dollar sunglasses, eyes squinty and tinted red. He’s high right now, the thought comes out of nowhere, the truth of it makes the warmth in your chest turn cold.

What hurts worse is the distinct feeling he doesn’t actually know who you are. He had smiled at you a time or two when you crossed paths in the hotel lobby, but it was the same smile posted in magazines and on billboards, perfectly mastered with just the right amount of teeth. At the end of the day, he’s the lead actor in this movie and you’re one of several prop assistants. It’d be silly to expect him to pick you out of a crowd, let alone reciprocate the crush you have on him.

Or that’s what the you of this universe believes anyways. The one who doesn’t know about the multitude of realities out there where you and Brown Eyes always end up together, for better or for worse. The one who doesn’t know she has a chance.

But since you are equipped with this knowledge, you find it rather easy telling him, “No thanks.”

Dieter’s surprised, eyebrows lifting higher up his wrinkled forehead. “You’re certain, angel?” He licks his lower lip, seeming uncharacteristically nervous, wringing his hands together. “I promise to be good to you. Anything you want–”

You silence him with a finger pressed against his lips, the corner of your mouth curling into a soft smile. “Trust me, Brown Eyes, it’s better this way. For both of us.”

And it’s the truth. You’d barely withstood the guilt of nearly stealing Orange’s life with Frankie. The consequences of sleeping with Dieter–robbing Angel of the experience and simultaneously cheating on Marcus–would be ones you’d never recover from.

You spare a glance down at the cube in your grip, loathing its existence, how it manipulates you against your will just as you attempt to manipulate it with every twist and turn of your hands. But perhaps what you loathe most of all, you think, watching as a row of broken heart symbols seems to shimmer, reflecting the sunlight, is what the invention of the Devil has taught you about love.

Love doesn’t just come in one form. It shifts and evolves, strengthens and weakens, never appearing the same way twice. Just like the multiverse.

“Okay,” Dieter says at last, and it’s just one word but the way he looks at you when he says it, like you are important to him–like maybe he has known who you are all this time–settles any lingering unease in your stomach. Makes you think Angel will be just fine.

You close your eyes and turn the cube again, knowing that when you open them another universe and another love will be awaiting you.

“Ghost,” someone says, voice tight with concern, and the sound rouses your consciousness.

Blinking your eyes open, you instantly regret it and squeeze them again shut because being awake means being aware of the pain throbbing from your face. Something wet and sticky is oozing from a cut on your forehead, but your brain hurts too much to instruct your arms to wipe it away. There’s a sense of detachment from reality, making it incredibly hard to focus on all the noises and murmurings going on around you, and you can’t stop the groan escaping your throat.

Callused, yet gentle hands cup your face, and that same voice says again, low and muffled by your cotton-stuffed ears, “Ghost.”

You’re almost sure you’re Ghost. Somewhere in your mind, beyond the radiating pain from your head wound and confusion of being unceremoniously dumped in a new universe, familiarity rings a quiet bell.

“I-I didn’t m-mean to hurt her!” Someone–a little girl by the sound of it, you think—says through breath-hitching sobs, utterly distraught. “It–it was an accident!”

“It’s okay, Guppy,” another girl tries to reassure her, but there’s an audible note of nervousness laced in her voice even your weak hearing picks up on. “Ghost will be fine, right, Dad?”

“Of course,” a man replies, and it’s the same person who’s been saying your name over and over, his thumbs softly brushing across your cheeks. You don’t need to open your eyes to know it’s your Brown Eyes. There's a brief pause and then, speaking directly to you, he pleads, “Come on, Ghost. Open your eyes.”

If anyone else had begged you, you would have ignored them. But because it’s him, you can’t resist, squinting through hazy vision to see his face hovering over you, brown eyes shining with worry behind thick black frames.

“Marcus,” you rasp, mouth dry as sandpaper, and there’s a moment where you don’t know what hurts more: your face or your heart. You dig your nails into your palm, but nothing changes. You’re not imagining things or mixing up universes again—this is real. The cube has reached a new level of cruelty, finding another Brown Eyes to tempt you with who shares the same name as your love.

“I’ve got you,” he answers softly, offering a small smile as he peers down at you.

“What happened?” you ask, still unable to remember what exactly led to you lying on the floor in the middle of—you turn your head slightly, taking everything in at a snail’s pace. You’re in the Heroics training gym, noticing the safety padding on the floor and walls. Eyes drifting a little further to the side reveals a group of kids staring back at you, all wearing identical worried expressions.

One girl near the front looks just like Marcus, same dark brown hair and eyes, same little concerned crease between her eyebrows. She has an arm wrapped around the shoulders of a younger, tinier girl who aggressively rubs at her tear-streaked face with her shirt sleeves. You should probably be more concerned about the crying child, but you can’t stop your gaze from returning back to the dark-haired girl.

There’s not a doubt in your mind she’s related to Marcus—the resemblance is too distinct to ignore—which most likely means she was the one who said Dad earlier. And if that’s true then…Marcus has a daughter.

“Training accident,” Marcus says, drawing your attention back to him. “Guppy’s water shark–sorry, Mr. Chompy Face–was spooked by your invisibility and took it out on your face.”

Huh. That might be one of the weirdest sentences you’ve ever heard in your whole life.

Marcus helps you sit up and some of the dizziness starts to clear from your head. He grabs your wrist to stop you from prodding at the still sluggishly bleeding wound above your left brow and narrows his eyes critically at it.

“How’s it look, Brown Eyes?”

“You’ll probably need stitches,” he murmurs, and his fingers squeeze your wrist in a gesture you’re not sure is supposed to be more reassuring for you or for him. “But I don’t think it will scar.”

He looks over at the kids then, specifically Guppy. “It’s alright, sweetheart. A quick trip to the nurse and Ghost will be right back here teaching you and Mr. Chompy Face how to kick butt.”

Guppy doesn’t seem convinced until you give her a soft smile when she looks at you. “O-okay,” she sniffs. “Get better soon, Miss Ghost.”

“Missy,” the dark-haired girl looks up at her father’s voice, “you’re in charge until we get back.”

Missy–what a sweet name for Marcus’ daughter. His daughter. God your brain is really obsessing over that detail right now. Maybe because your only other experience with a child was Frankie’s baby and for as much as the little infant looked like Frankie with her precious curls, there’s something so different and utterly captivating about seeing Marcus’ mannerisms and expressions replicated in the young girl.

As Marcus pulls you onto your feet, three things happen at once.

There is a touch of cold metal where Marcus’ hand is wrapped around your elbow to steady you. A wedding band, to be more precise.

Missy says, “If you see Mom, tell her hi for me.”

And you realize with painstaking clarity there are no guarantees you and Brown Eyes are together in every universe. Nobody ever said life was fair or that love had to be reciprocated.

You want to blame the head injury for your unawareness, but the truth is it should have been obvious from the moment you saw Missy. Frankie’s baby shared at least some of your physical characteristics—Missy doesn’t share any similarities with you at all. She’s half Marcus, half a woman who Marcus calls his wife. A woman Marcus loves dearly—you can tell just by the look on his face right now as he tells Missy of course, eyes soft at the corners with adoration.

A look that up until now you’ve always seen directed at yourself.

You bite your lip, telling yourself not to cry.

You want to leave. You need to leave.

But you can’t without the damn cube, so instead you walk with Marcus down the long hallways of the Heroics’ headquarters to the medical wing, pretending Marcus’ hand on your arm doesn’t have an effect on you or your fragile heart. Marcus mistakes your silence as a side effect of your head injury, reassuring you that the stitches and a couple of painkillers will make you feel better.

Maybe they’ll help with the external wound, but the internal ones? From this universe and Max’s universe, Veracruz’s and Dave’s and all the other times you’ve been hurt, stressed out, and absolutely terrified? Those won’t be going away any time soon. You privately doubt they’ll ever truly go away at all.

You find the cube when you’re ushered into one of the offices to wait for a nurse, sitting on the counter in-between a jar of cotton balls and tongue depressors. The part of you that isn’t on the verge of crying wants to laugh because of course it’s waiting for you here. Of course you’d find it only after the distressing truth is revealed.

Inhaling a ragged breath, you sneak one last peek at Marcus talking to some of the nurses outside the room, a friendly grin on his face. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen your Brown Eyes smile so brightly, totally at ease. He doesn’t seem tired or worn out or rough around the edges. No tension in his shoulders from carrying the weight of the world.

A question takes shape in your mind right as you twist the cube, igniting your insecurities all at once like a wildfire: how many Brown Eyes are happier and better off out there without you in the picture?

The pool water is blue and crystalline, refreshingly cool against your calves, bringing a smile to your face as you lightly kick your feet. Sunlight filters in through the overhead trees, caressing your arms, and you didn’t think it was possible to find the perfect balance of temperature between hot and cold but this particular spot right here on the tiled edge of the pool is absolutely perfect.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

Nico gazes at you from the other side of the pool, black turtleneck clinging tightly to his broad shoulders, brown eyes knocking the air from your lungs with their piercing intensity. He smirks, a little smug around the edges, as if he knows exactly what kind of effect he has on you.

And if you could breathe, you’d laugh at yourself because you’re so gone for this man. All it takes is one look and your heart is his.

“You’re not so bad looking yourself,” you say with a teasing arch of your eyebrows.

Nico’s gaze lowers and you might think he’s shy as he trails his fingertips over the water’s surface if not for the lingering smirk. You watch the ripples, how they distort his reflection, and for a second he looks like another man. Another man so very much like Nico, and yet so very different. Hair a little shorter, features a little softer with youth, eyes a little more expressive.

You blink and there’s your Nico again. He reminds you of the sun–blazing and passionate, unignorable, and always out of reach no matter how hard you try to close the distance.

Sunken in the depths of the pool, the cube waits for you to make a decision.

Nico starts muttering about future renovations he’d like to see done to the house looming behind him–a massive, rectangular structure, all white in color with large glass windows viewing straight into the living room and kitchen–even though you both know he’ll never be the type to settle down and establish roots.

It’s easy enough to tune him out, hypnotized by the sight far below your swishing feet. Dio claimed the cube showed up exactly when and where you needed it. So, what does it say about this universe, that the cube would choose such a low resting place?

You’re not paying attention to Nico, until–

“A fireplace would be nice, don’t you agree, mi sirenita?” he’s saying, still making ripples with his fingertips. “We could make love by the fire on winter nights…”

Make love. Those are emotional words, affectionate and tender. They’re sugar sweet on his tongue. Blissfully warm. You could listen to him speak for hours and hours.

Something twists unpleasantly in your chest. You wonder if this is how Icarus felt when he flew too close to the sun, wanting to linger in the beauty of it all so badly he stopped caring about the consequences.

“I’d like that.” There’s a tremor to your voice which immediately catches his attention, and you can feel his eyes on you, steady and burning, even though you don’t look up to meet them. “It sounds like a nice home.”

“Yes,” he agrees after a long moment spent scrutinizing you. “I’ve never had a home before. Never really wanted one, to be honest. But I think…there is something appealing about the idea of sharing one with you.”

That unpleasant pain twists sharper, and you understand now why the cube waits for you at the bottom of the pool. It’s to remind you that just like Icarus, no matter how much you wish or how far you stretch your hands out, you’ll never touch the sun. Sooner or later, as long as the cube remains unsolved, you’re destined to get burned.

You push off the edge, plunging underwater without a second thought. Your eyes sting and your clothes stretch and expand, but down, down, down you go. Arms reaching out, legs kicking. Sirenita has always loved the water and it’s only because of her routine of weekly swims that your lungs don’t seize up before you reach the bottom and the cube is back in your hands again.

When you turn it this time, anger burns in your veins. This place was too beautiful, too seductive, too damn tempting. It doesn’t feel like a victory anymore to switch universes. Not when your heart tears a little more with every man you fall for and must leave behind.

Home, you think desperately, just before you pop out of existence, recalling your apartment where Marcus’ things have slowly, gradually become intermixed with yours. I just want to go home.

Blood.

There is so, so much blood.

Hands restrain your arms, a knee in the center of your back keeping you pinned to the concrete floor. Your assailant’s grip tightens when you struggle, bruising your wrists while they press more of their weight on you, crushing your ribcage.

Cuts litter your face and arms, stinging against the chill of the autumn air, but you barely notice the pain. All you can see, all you can focus on, is Joel.

A beaten and bloody mess, barely holding onto consciousness by a mere thread, making this god-awful wheezing sound with every breath. His brown eyes are open, but glossed over, unseeing, body sprawled out on the floor like a puppet whose strings have been cut. A scarlet pool forms beneath him, drip by drip flowing freely from his injuries.

“Joel,” you rasp, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes. You just want him to look at you, to tell you what to do because everything is falling apart and he always knows the right thing to say to calm you down. He’s always been the only one who knew how to make the pain of this hellhole of a world go away.

A figure crouches down next to Joel, face unrecognizable beneath the hood of their coat, a crowbar in their hand slick with freshly spilt blood.

It was supposed to have been a regular, run-of-the-mill supply run. Get in, get out, and head back to Jackson. It was supposed to have been a beautiful day with nice weather and even nicer company. The first time you and Joel have been alone in weeks without anybody else from the community needing your attention.

The old shipping warehouse some of the community’s scouts found last week had been easy to break into. (Too easy, you’ll realize in hindsight.) Inside had been a little like a treasure trove of miscellaneous items—books, technology, canned goods, pieces of nostalgia from a lifetime before the outbreak.

You’d found a box of old movies, covered in dust with most of the discs cracked, and started asking Joel about them while he packed his bag with whatever he deemed worth bringing back. The mood had been light, both of you bantering back and forth.

“Admit it, Brown Eyes,” you’d taunted, holding up a dvd with a couple kissing on the front, “this is how you would have wooed me if we’d had normal lives. Dinner and a movie, maybe walk me up to my front door and try to sneak a kiss, hmm?”

Joel huffed a laugh through his nose. “I don’t think anybody living in this century says wooed anymore, sunshine.” A pause. “But yeah. That sounds about right. You would have been completely and totally wooed.”

And then a gunshot obliterated the tender moment, bullet slicing through the cartilage of Joel’s knee, dropping him with a howl of agony.

A pair of figures in dark clothes and hoods emerged from the shadows. The taller of the two disarmed you and delivered several nasty slashes with a knife before you could even think of defending yourself. They said nothing, gave away no hints of their identities.

Fighting back against the weight on your back proved fruitless. Helplessly, you were forced to watch the unknown figure pull out a crowbar and slam it against Joel’s body, forced to listen to every sickening crack of bone, every whimper and grunt. Panic clawed at your lungs, heart threatening to beat out of your chest, and you’d wanted to scream but couldn’t find your breath, couldn’t understand what the hell was happening. Why it was happening.

“What do you want?” you ask, tremors racking your body, eyes locked on Joel’s across the gap of distance, still silently begging him to say something, do something.

The hooded stranger’s head tilts, acknowledging your question but doesn’t provide an answer to it. Instead, they trail the edge of the crowbar over Joel’s face, smearing the blood like it’s paint on a canvas.

“Stop it,” you spit out, teeth clicking together. “Leave us the hell alone! I swear to God I’ll kill you—”

The rest of your threat is cut off by the shifting of pressure on your spine and lungs as the second unknown entity leans forward, mouth near your ear so close you can feel their hot breath on your marred cheek. “God stopped listening a long time ago.”

His voice sounds like he regularly gargles with rocks. The blood rushes in your ears, head spinning, and panic rolls through your body, an icy, nauseating wave. He’s made a mistake though, face so close to the back of your head, and you rear up with a battle cry, skull busting his nose with an echoing crack.

The man’s grip loosens. You take advantage of the moment of weakness, squirming like mad and managing a solid elbow to his stomach. Rolling over, you grapple with the nameless man, using your smaller flexibility against his thicker bulk, screaming curses at him the whole while.

Your hands are still trembling, jittery with shock, and it takes two attempts to snatch the knife from his waistband—your knife he stole from you, the one with the engraving of a sun on the handle—before burying the blade home in his chest, puncturing his heart with a wicked sneer on your lips.

There isn’t time to celebrate the win. In one fluid motion, fueled by a volatile cocktail of momentum and adrenaline, you push his body off and seize the gun tucked in the holster at his hip, aiming at his partner.

You pull the trigger, an explosion of sound rattling every bone in your body, and then the second attacker is knocked backwards off their feet, hood slipping off to reveal a young woman with a scarred face, a gaping hole in the center of her chest gushing red. You feel more than hear your heavy exhale of air, ears still ringing, panic still clawing at your nerve endings. You have no idea who they were, what they wanted except to clearly release their pent-up aggressions upon you and—

“Joel,” you breathe, setting the gun aside and crawling across the floor. Your hands hover over his body, wanting to touch but fuck there’s so much blood. It seeps through the fabric of your jeans where you’re kneeled next to him, warm and sticky, coats his face and his backside. He’s still making that awful whistling, wheezing sound as he fights for each breath.

“Oh fuck, Joel,” your voice reaches a new pitch, hysteria creeping in. “Oh God. I–You can’t—Please Joel, don’t leave me. Not like this. Not like this.”

There’s no indication he hears your pleas. No fluttering of his eyes, no twitching of his fingers when you reach for them, nothing at all.

A whine burns a hole in your throat. He needs help. He needs a hospital. Something that is already hard to find in this world overrun by an incurable infection. But a working one? Damn near impossible.

And even if you could find one, you don’t have the strength to get him there on your own. Which means…Which means he’s going to…

“No,” you choke out, fear twisting your stomach into knots. “Damnit Joel, please get up. Look at me, Joel. Look. At. Me!”

But instead of looking at you, of showing you those beautiful brown eyes you love and adore, his breathing hitches and slows, blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth.

You press your forehead against his temple, uncaring of the blood smearing across your skin, dousing your hair. “Joel, don’t do this,” you sob, teardrops raining down upon his face. “Stay with me. Just a little longer.”

We deserve a better story than this.

Recognition bursts in your mind, a lightning strike eliciting a sharp gasp. That’s…not the first time you’ve thought of those words. There had been another moment, so very long ago, where the situation had been reversed and you were the one dying. Where Joel had brought you a cube to make the pain go away.

No. Not Joel.

Pero.

You lean back on your heels, a bead of blood sliding down your forehead and along the ridge of your nose before following the tearstained track down your cheek.

It happened again, you think, blinking slowly. I forgot who I really am.

Looking down at Joel is a mistake that threatens your fragile grip on your identity. His body is still. Silent. He’s…gone. He’s dead, and yet you can still feel the phantom touch of his hands around your waist, his lips on yours with the roughness of his beard scratching at your chin.

You turn away with a scream, slamming your fists against the cement, unleashing the multitudes of anger and pain and heartache contained within your body.

Minutes or possibly hours later, you sit there, breathing through your nose because your throat is raw and inflamed. Everything hurts beyond words. Your back and shoulders ache from the man pinning you down, several ribs possibly cracked. Knuckles split open, bits of bone peeking out.

This universe has reduced you to a bleeding and quivering mess of agony, surrounded by bodies, one of them your Brown Eyes.

And still you push yourself onto your feet. Still you scrutinize the warehouse shelves and boxes. Still you keep looking for the cube. Your heart is numb, your hopes shattered, but there’s nothing worth staying here for. Not anymore.

Your muscles throb with each step, but maybe there is a higher power listening after all because somehow, miraculously, you find the golden cube on a shelf next to a stack of books. Your shoulders tense when you notice the titles match the ones discussed with Ezra. Cloud Atlas on top of the pile.

The cube vibrates in your hands when you grab it. A short wobble of movement you’re unsure what to think of. If it’s trying to soothe you or if it’s laughing at your pain. And then you think: Does it even matter?

Joel’s still going to die, Sunshine’s still going to mourn, and you’re still going to carry the trauma from this universe into the next one.

When you turn the cube with your blood-soaked hands, one thing is certain: you’re losing this fight.

You can’t solve the Infinity Cube. You can’t save the thief’s heart or reunite him with his dear. It’s all too much. There’s too much at stake, too much pressure on your chest, too much suffering. You’re never going to make it home, never going to see Marcus again and you can’t change it–you can’t stop it.

The thief’s punishment will continue on and on and on…

…

Unless…

Unless it’s possible the cycle which began with one Brown Eyes’ mistake, can be undone with the help of another Brown Eyes.

Maybe you’ve been a fool this whole time, trying to do this all by yourself.

Maybe there is still a little hope left to believe in after all.

…

“Javi, what do you know about the multiverse?”

#the infinity cube #dieter bravo x reader #nico x reader #marcus moreno x reader #joel miller x reader #dieter bravo x you #house comes with a bird #marcus moreno x you #the last of us hbo #pedrostories #my writing #my fic

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nicolethered · 1 year

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House Comes With a Bird is nominated for a Webby Award. Go vote!

#pedro pascal #Nico #house comes with a bird

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pedropascal24-7 · 1 year

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Pedro’s looks on set in 2022

Costumes from either projects that were released in 2022 or from on set while filming projects to be released later

IDK if that photo from The Uninvited set is an actual costume or not, but we’re going to put it here anyway

#pedro pascal #TUWOMT #the bubble #strange way of life #miu miu women’s tales #house comes with a bird

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mjpens · 2 years

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Day 2 - Nico

#pedro pascal #nico #house comes with a bird #maia draws #pedrotober #q

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boliv-jenta · 1 year

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Nico x f!reader. F!reader x omc. F!reader x Nico x omc. F!reader x ofc.

Nico Masterlist

Warnings. SMUT! A bit of everything. F!receiving fingering. MMF threesome, nothing too graphic. Depictions of swingers party. F/F oral sex. P in V sex. Dirty talk. Swearing. Alcohol consumption. Adultery. Angst.

Summary: Your personal decision has ramifications in your arrangement with Nico.

Yearning

WC:4.2k

"I'm getting a divorce." You had no idea why you just blurted that out to Angelo one day as you were laying by the pool. Nico was out for the afternoon so the two of you had decided to lounge in the sun.

"Oh? I know things aren't great in the bedroom but I didn't realise you were that unhappy with your husband. I mean you don't talk about him but that would be pretty poor form to talk about your husband with the men you are fucking." Angelo causally sipped his drink as he spoke. His words heated your cheeks. "Are you able to divorce him? What would you do for money? Sorry, that's a rude thing to ask. I just...I want to be ok."

It was a good question. One that you had looked into. At the moment you did just fine. You lived off your father's business. Your husband only took his sales job because he was too proud to live off you. It was sad really, he gave up his dreams to earn more money, instead of letting you support him. The thing was that if you divorced you would certainly be cut out of the family business. They wouldn't stand for you bringing shame upon them. The modest savings account would allow you to finish your studies but passed that, it wasn't going to be easy.

"I'll find a way. It's better than living a lie." You muttered.

"Sweetie, that's noble but everyone lives lies to a certain extent. Do you think all your neighbours who fuck each other tell their people at their jobs what they do at the weekend? Do you think I tell my patients about Nico? It's not exactly lying more like...compartmentalising."

He waved his hand dismissively.

"That's different some things aren’t appropriate to share. I lie to my husband about you, about my feelings for him."

You spoke to your chest, even when Angelo turned to you.

"Not to poke a sore spot but how do you think he feels for you?"

Thinking about it you tried to answer honestly.

"I think he loves me like I love him. There's a fondness there, a familiarity. He's like a beloved friend.."

Angelo held a hand over his heart dramatically. "Ouch! So why are you still together?"

You sighed."I don't know. It's just what you do where we are from. You marry for better or worse. It's not like things are so bad. We enjoy each other's company. We enjoy...other things together."

Angelo lowered his sunglasses. "Hmm. How are other things with him?"

You still didn't look towards him. "Fine."

"Fine?" He chuckled softly before slipping off of his lounger before crawling along the floor to the bottom of your lounger. The lith muscles of back rippled as he crawled with a cat like grace. Reaching the bottom of your lounger he locked eyes with you. His warm hands clasped your ankles to uncross them. Moving between your legs he inched his way upward. His breath teased your skin as he moved higher and higher until it ghosted over your bikini bottoms. He hover there for a moment, staring at you as your breath hitched, your hips shifted towards him as his hands came to rest on your waist. Keeping his head low he continued his trail up your body so close yet not touching. Every inch of your skin he passed came to life underneath him. The flesh tingled in his wake. By the time his lips hovered over yours, your breath came out in trembling pants. Your bikini bottoms were now stuck to you uncomfortably with the slick gathering between your legs. His lips brushed yours lightly, moving away as you moaned.

"Fine. Huh?" Angelo chuckled before climbing off of you.

Trying to compose yourself, you responsed. "Sex isn't just about...all of that. There's an emotional side to it. That side is just fine." You were glad Angelo couldn't see through you as well as Nico could.

"Well, good for you. I just think you should get....all of that, too." He dropped back down on his lounger.

"All of what?" Nico enquired as he stepped into the yard.

Angelo tilted his head up and Nico pressed a kiss to his lips in passing. "I was just preparing to make good on my teasing. I got her all worked up."

"So you need to cool down?" Before you could answer Nico scoped you up in his strong arms and prompt jumped into the pool with you. He pushed off once his feet hit the bottom, taking you back to the surface.

"Nico!" You squealed as you breached the surface. Shaking the water from you face with a grin.

"Or is there something else you need?" He muttered against your neck as he crowded you into the side of the pool. Even soaked and dishevelled he still looked handsome in his grey slacks and black button down. The top few buttons were undone so the water dripped down the sliver of exposed chest. Following your eyes he opened the remaining buttons before shrugging the shirt off, letting it float away. His body returned to yours, skin to skin, as he reached down to feel your arousal.

"Angelo! Such a tease!" He called over your shoulder.

"Let me give you what you need." He whispered in your ear sending a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the cool water he had plunged you into. He wasted no time in making you come by lavishing your clit with his attention. His lips sealed around yours to capture the sound of your climax. Pulling back he rested his cheek against yours almost tenderly.

"Would you like another?" A nod was all you could give him.

He carried on expertly working his fingers over your swollen bundle of nerves. He pulled another orgasm from you then another. Each time he muffled your sounds with his lips. When he wasn't hushing you with them, they dotted kisses over your neck and shoulders. He held you to him so gently, his hand wrapped around your waist to keep you in place. If he wasn't performing a sexual act on you the pose would have passed for cuddling. This level of tenderness was something you expected from Angelo, not Nico. After he withdrew his hands from your underwear. He cupped your face gently before kissing you deeply. The intimacy of it shocked you. It appeared to shock Nico as well. The two of you stared at each other for a moment. No words came to your mind, Nico offered none of his own.

"What does a girl need to do to get some attention over here?" Angelo mock pouted.

Just like that, the heaviness of the moment between you and Nico dissipated. Everything became as light as the summer breeze rolling through the yard again.

Nico slapped Angelo's ass as he rounded you both up and ushered you into the shower. The three of you made out, giggling at the confusion of trying to take turns and keep everyone included. Your hands overlapped as you brought each other pleasure. Some times working in tandem. Others playfully vying for dominance. Once you were dressed in the plush bathrobes Angelo kept around for you all, Nico headed to the fridge to make dinner. Finding it empty, Angelo offered to go pick up some take out. Leaving you and Nico to deal with the slightly charged air between you.

"So what were you two talking about earlier. I feel like I walked into something." He asked before sipping his glass of red wine.

"I was telling him that I want to divorce my husband." You spoke more to your glass than to him.

"Oh? Not because of us, I assume?" He tried not to meet your eyes. You wondered if he wanted to use the word 'hope' instead of 'assume'. You knew there was nothing here for you to leave your husband for, Nico had made that clear.

"No. Well, a little. I don't want to keep pretending my marriage is fine when it's not."

"I thought we were making up for the things your marriage lacks."

"You are, for the most part. I just..." That wasn't a wise thought to finish. You hoped to just let it float away on the night air.

"Just what?" Nico had set down his glass and come to stand in front of you. Those eyes holding yours. This man had seen things in you that you'd never seen in yourself. Maybe he already knew what you were going to say before you did.

"I want to be in love again." You told him keeping your voice as neutral as possible.

At your words he turned his back on you to retrieve his glass. "I know." His acknowledgement hit you square in the chest. He knew. He always knew. Before downing the rest of his drink in one go he uttered "I don't know why though. Love is overrated."

It had been three weeks since that moment in the kitchen. Angelo had come in a seconds later yet the moment felt like an eternity. You had grown fond of Nico, hearing him talk like that, it bothered you. He'd opened your world up in a way that you saw other ways of living but for someone to be so cold about love? Someone you cared for? That didn't sit right with you. You wanted to know why Nico felt that way. He had shown you so much support, you felt the need to show it back. However, Nico had made it clear that there was no intimacy between you. No feelings involved. The whole thing rattled around and around your head for weeks. There was no way you could spend time with Nico. The two of you exchanged greetings across the street. Neither one of you pushing for more.

It was Angelo that eventually came to your door. Inviting you to a party that night. "Nico thought you might like it. It's a swingers party. Wear something that's easy to remove." He told you before crossing back over to Nico's. Nico himself sat on the front porch. He gave you a nod when you looked his way, before following Angelo back into the house.

That evening Nico drove you out towards the city, you were vaguely familiar with the area. There was a park, that backed onto a reasonable sized hotel. It used to be a mansion before it's owner was arrested for his ill gotten gains. It was lavish and beautiful, it made you wonder even more about what to expect at this party.

Angelo rode in the back with you. His hand on you knee providing a steadying warmth. In contrast to the chill you were getting from Nico, who had barely spoke the entire time. Once you were welcomed into the party, Angelo slipped away. Not without a pointed look at Nico. Nico's hand came to rest on your lower back as you took the party in.

The guests varied in gender, age, race, there was a middle aged woman in a wheelchair and a handsome man wearing dark glasses and making his way around with a cane. Their tastes seemed as varied as they looked. There were men together, woman together, some with both, some dressed in tight leather, some had evening wear on, some wore nothing at all. Suddenly feeling like you were gawking, you withdrew into Nico's arms. The awkwardness between you simple vanished. He tucked you into his side while he strolled to the bar. He ordered you a drink while you took a moment. The drink burned pleasantly as you slipped it.

"Better?" Nico asked.

"Better." You confirmed.

He smiled thoughtfully and the two of you drank in silence. His knee pressed against yours. The air between you cleared. His quiet reassure was with you once more as you glanced around now and then.

"Listen, about what I said the other..." Nico began only to be cut off by Angelo.

"This is my friend Ruby. She was asking about you." Since you were busy sipping your drink in preparation for what Nico was going to say, it took you longer than it should to realise Angelo was talking to you.

"Oh." You looked at the woman next to him. She was beautiful, a little younger than you, her dark blonde hair was swept back off her face and flowed over her bare shoulders. She gave you a warm smile.

Angelo, without the lease hint of subtlety, urgently needed to speak to Nico in private. He dragged him away, snagging his drink for his own on the way.

"So shall we gloss over the small talk. I'm here for the same thing as everyone else here, enjoyment, escape. I'm in a sham marriage with an iron clad prenup. I can't leave without giving up my claim on the fortune I helped him build. He can't leave without his father contesting his fortune as it was build with money from dear old dad. His father wants him to stay married to a woman. He thinks it will make him straight." She whispered the last part, tossing her hair over her shoulder to look at her husband with a half naked man practically dry humping each thigh. Stiffling a giggle, you took a sip of your way too strong fruity cocktail.

"What about you? Sham marriage? Swinger? BDSM? What's your thing?"

After making a mental note to ask Nico what BDSM was you told her about your husband, your encounter with Nico at a swingers party and how he was helping to 'broaden your horizons'. Her green eyes narrowed at the quote. Her red lips split into a wide smile.

"Do you wanna dance?" The latest sip of your drink hit you as you giddily accepted. As first they two of you danced next to each other. Occasionally bumping into each other. Her hand would reach out to pull you back if you strayed too far after an over ambitious twirl. A few songs later her hand lingered on your hip. By the end of the next one her body was pressed into yours. The temporary buzz of the small amount of alcohol well worn off, the only buzz in your veins was arousal. The dance floor had filled while you had danced. Angelo was dancing to the left of you with a man that was almost his exact opposite. Where Angelo was dark this man was fair. He was very tall, slim but muscular. His skin was pale. His eyes a cool blue. His hair, blonde and straight. They couldn't look much more opposite, yet they seemed pretty compatible as the man captured Angelo's lips in a kiss. Your thoughts jumped to Nico. Scanning the place, you found him at the bar. As if he was waiting for you, he raised his glass, before nodding his head to Ruby. She'd been lost to your attention for a while but she was still close, still touching, still...your heart skipped a beat as her soft lips touched yours. Her kiss was so gentle it made you feel like you were worthy of being treated with such delicacy. It was a feeling you hadn't had in such a long time. Needs and feelings that you had pushed deep inside bubbled up to the surface. Before you could think too deeply about it, a gong sounded.

Your host, a beautifully coiffed person, in a stunning purple ball gown, stood at the top of the stairs. "Midnight! Time to get going before that magic wears off. You little Pumpkins that are leaving need to roll on home. Any Royals wishing to find a suitor, you head on up to one of the rooms upstairs." They left with an dramatic swirl of their gown.

The dance floor started to clear. Watching people leave was fascinating. Angelo and his blonde companion were ascending the stairs led by a beautiful Asian woman. Ruby's husband had taken his two friends from earlier AND another man with him. Some people just paired off, others left with groups. One particular group consisted of eleven people. You weren't sure how that was going to work out. Nico's chest pressed against your back brought you gawping to an end. "I see you two are getting on well."

A deep blush settled on your cheeks. Ruby noticed. Her knuckles gently dragged across your cheek, as if to wipe it away. Her nose scrunched up as she gave you a smile. Her presence was a comforting as Nico's, although her's was a soft, malleable one to fall into. Where his a was a solid, firm one to hold you steady.

"Shall we?" He held out his arm for you. As you looped yours in his Ruby took your other arm. Nico didn't say a word, he only waited to see what you would do.

"So do we just take any room or...?" You looked up at him, eager and inquisitive as always. For a man that claimed softness wasn't something he could give you, it shone out of him when he smiled at you.

"I have a room. It has a balcony. I know how much you enjoy the night air." He teased before leading the way.

As you hadn't spend much time with him tonight, you weren't sure which Nico you would getting. A hand around your throat as he pushed you up against the wall, as soon at you were in the privacy of your room, announced it. Dominate Nico.

"You two looked so fucking hot tonight." His kisses were rough and demanding. The smooth continuous slide of his belt passes through the loops was followed by the sound of his zipper. "See what you did, you fucking naughty girl?" He held his hard length in his hand.

Suddenly, you were painfully aware that Ruby was in the room. When you turned to her, she smiled, holding her hands up. "Watching you two is just fine for now. I don't mind seeing that." She waved her hand towards Nico's crotch. "It really is quite lovely, as those go, but I have no interest in touching one. Thank you. No offence."

She hopped up on the bar helping herself to a drink.

"None taken." Nico grunted as he spun you around, lifting your dress as he did so. Angelo had advised you to forego underwear. Nico parted your knees with his own, he bottomed out in one thrust. Your nails clawed the expensive, embossed wallpaper. It was in stark contrast to the no frills fucking you were getting. Nico didn't kiss you, touch you, apart from where he was holding you in place. He even spilled inside you before you could cum.

"God. I needed that." He dropped your dress, turned to Ruby as if he had just finished a conversation with you rather than railing you. "So you don't want to touch me?"

Ruby shook her head, her mouth full of the martini she'd made herself while you were busy.

He turned back to you, his finger tips reaching for you, skimming your shoulders before finding the zip of your dress, pulling it down, he left the dress in place as he turned you to him.

"Do you want to touch her?" He asked, his eyes searching yours, he'd probably find the answer before you even knew it.

"Yes. I don't know how...but yes...I'd like to try." You pushed you dress off your shoulders, leaving you naked.

Ruby smiled, her plump lips pressed to the edge of her glass. Her eyes roamed your figure blatantly.

"Do you want to taste her?" You thought about how sweet you tasted on his tongue. About how good he made you feel with his tongue. "Don't worry, Kitten. I'll teach you. Why don't you two get comfortable."

Without hesitation, Ruby untied the her halterneck dress the whole thing shimmered down to the floor. She stood naked in pool of it.

Over the years you had found yourself lingering on the lingerie pages of catalogues or watching certain movie scenes with avid interest but didn't all woman? It was just admiration. Comparison. Women were beautiful. The naked female form had always been the subject of art. It transcended gender or sexuality. It was art. Right? Art to be admired, converted, worshipped.

Soon, your hands and tongue became the instruments of praise as you worshipped her breasts. It took a beat for your brain to catch up, you movements became self conscious. Ruby lay on the bed under you as Nico lay aside the two of you. Nico's hand smoothed over your neck as you thought about stopping. Nadia's came up to meet his. Neither of them guided you, the weight of their hands was just there, comforting. Moving your head up, you kissed her lips with renewed excitement. Nico moved down the bed behind you, shuffling you down with him. Settling between your legs he licked a strip up your folds.

"Why don't you see if she likes that too?"

His tongue swirled through your folds. Repeating the exact same motion was hard as you shook with the pleasure of it. The way her thighs trembled around your head told you Ruby liked it too. Nico moved away laying back on the bed, he watched you intently. "Keep going, Kitten."

Tuning his gaze out, you did your best to concentrate on giving Ruby's pleasure. It was a little overwhelming at first, the taste of her, her scent, the texture of her slick flesh on your tongue. The way her hips chases your tongue as you tried all the things that Nico, and Angelo, had shown you that you liked.

Eventually, you found a rhythm that she really seemed to like. Pride filled you as her moans filled the room. When she gently thread her fingers in you hair, you took that as your cue to give her more. This would usually be the point when Nico would slip his fingers inside you, if he hadn't already. You spared him a glance, he had tucked himself back into his pants, yet the outline of his cock bulging against his slacks was unmissable. He was fully hard again. Just the sight made you wet. Moaning against Ruby, you became bold enough to press two fingers inside her. Both her and Nico groaned at the intrusion. The movements of your tongue and fingers were a little uncoordinated at first. With a little practice you evened things out. You fingertip steadily curled against the rough patch of skin inside her as you paid more attention to her clit. At this point she was being even more vocal.

A sense of shame rose in you at the thought of other people hearing her, of knowing what you were doing. Screwing your eyes shut you tried to force the thought away. Redirecting the nervous energy into what you were doing, you pushed her over the edge. Her whole body curled in around you as she chanted the Lord's name in vain. Her pussy convulsed on your fingers as she gushed around them. The whole thing left you trembling. It was always a high to succeed at something new. You don't remember pulling away from her, or Nico moving until he held your own cum covered hand up to your lips. Ruby gazed up at you as your took your fingers in your mouth. Her taste was so different from your own. It was still pleasant, just different. Nico moaned next to you as you licked them clean, readjusting himself as he did so.

"That was....are you sure that was your first time?" Ruby wriggled down the bed to kiss you. "Damn, I need a drink." She walked completely unfazed but her nudity to the bar.

With Ruby distracted, Nico climbed between your thighs. Lifting you into his arms, he kissed you passionately, deeply, yet with more of this newfound tenderness. His heavy cock pressed into you, smearing your arousal all over the front of his slack until they darkened. Your cunt chased the friction until he pulled away. He rested his forehead against yours for a moment before placing a gentle kiss there.

"You two, enjoy the rest of the night." He rose from on top of you was out of the door in a flash. You were quick behind him, catching the door just before it shut. Stood, naked as the day you were born, fist balled at your sides, you didn't know exactly what you wanted from him. You knew you weren't get hearts and candy or a cuddle before you slipped into sleep. He had told you that. Now he was blaring the lines with these moments. You wanted what you had gotten from him so far, truth. Or so you thought. Would the truth about his lingering kisses, about his words about love that night, help? Or would it just complicate things further? He eyed for a long while, as if he was waiting for you to realise you were nude and scurry back inside. Chest slightly heaving you stood your ground. He breathed out a laugh before taking his jacket off and wrapping it around you. He was broad enough that it afford you some modesty.

"Go on. Tell me what you need."

So many unanswered questions whirled through your mind. Maybe you didn't need that truth but you need some truth from him. One question leaped out at you, you let it out before it died on your tongue. "Why do you like to watch so much?"

"If you'd seen the things I have. You want something else to see when you close your eyes too." He replied simply before walking away.

Tags @kirsteng42 @babydarkstar @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @graciexmarvel @kinda-nobody

Additional tags for this masterlist @axshadows @movievillainess721 (thought I'd add you to the follow up from the last part.)

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #nico #house comes with a bird #nico x f!reader #nico x f!reader x male oc

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insomniamamma · 2 years

Note

Somno with Nico?? Ma’am?? Hello???? 🥺 I am literally dkajalajahg like I can’t function until I know more p l e a s e 🥺

play horny games, win horny prizes. Here's a prize for you, Anon. Soft filth incoming. MINORS DNI. Nico x f!reader. Somnophilia.

You feel his eyes on you as soon as you wake. Nico's beside you, propped up on one elbow, peering down at you. You feel yourself smile. This has happened before. You wake up to his warm gaze. "Good morning, Osita," "Nico, were you watching me sleep?" "Yes, I mean, no--mierda,--" His cheeks tinge red and you know his ears will follow. Your smile widens. Something's got Nico all flustered. "I think it's sweet," you say, and Nico smiles, but his eyes slide away from yours. You know that look by now, that's Nico worried, Nico doubting, the smile stays but the eyes shift. "What is it?" "It's nothing." "Bullshit," you say, and tap your finger to his forehead, right where those little divots like to etch themselves between his brows, "I can hear the gears grinding. Spill it. Before you get yourself all worked up and sulk all day." "I do not sulk," he says, but some of the tension eases out of him, "Promise you won't think I'm strange." "Nico, I know you're strange," You roll onto your side and rest your hand on the gentle swell of skin above his hip. Nico feels embarrassed about his body sometimes, but you love the softness of him, the contrast of his broad swimmer's shoulders with the roundness of his belly and thighs, "Just tell me what's on your mind." He gives you a long, searching look, gathering up his courage. "You sleep very hard, Osita, I sometimes wonder…" He turns his face from you and laughs, that shamefaced little giggle, but his cheeks and ears are flaming red now. You squeeze his hip and that seems to ground him some. "I sometimes wonder if you could sleep through me fucking you." His eyes won't meet yours. "You want to fuck me in my sleep." You say. You find it's best to be blunt when Nico gets like this, it jolts him out of the tight spiral of his whirling thoughts. "Yes." He says. "Why are you so embarrassed about it?" "You don't think it's creepy?" You laugh now, flop back down. "Nico, you are the least creepy person I know," you say, "And I think plenty of people have that same idea." "Do you?" "Sometimes. Would you mind so much? Waking up to me riding you?" "No. I do not think I would mind at all." "So why would it be any different for me?" "I don't want to push you." "You're not," you say, "I like the idea of waking up with you inside me. I don't think you'll get that far though." "How do you mean?" "I think you'll wake me up before you can get inside." You say, and he reaches for you, rolls you on top of him and you can feel that he's already half-hard, but his eyes are still searching yours. "You're sure it's alright?" "Goofball. I am hereby granting you permission to fuck me awake. I'm looking forward to it." "I am not a goofball." "Your picture is next to goofball in the dictionary."

Even with your blessing it still takes him some time. There's something about you in sleep, a softness, a laxness that he never sees when you're awake. You carry yourself like you're going into war, like you're burdened with armor he can't see, but when you sleep, that burden is gone, at least for a little while. He would like to relieve that burden forever, to see you soft and calm and relaxed when you are awake, but he's not quite sure you will let him. In the mean time, you've given him permission.

It happens on a grey and drizzly day that passes for winter in Southern California , the chilly light from the window paints you just right, your face is slack and soft but your nipples are stiff from the chill, even beneath the sheet that covers you. Nico wakes and closes the window without even thinking and then pauses to look at you. He runs his fingers over the curve of your exposed shoulder and you shift enough so the bedsheet pulls off of you, exposing yourself to him. He slides the sheet further down and nuzzles into you, kissing and licking at your soft skin, draws his tongue over your tender, pebbled flesh. You whimper but do not wake, your eyes flicker beneath your lids and he wonders what you're dreaming about. He suckles at you, savors the small sounds that pass your lips, the way you arch into him, and then he draws back, letting you slide back down into sleep.

"Mi Osita. Mi amor." He skims his hands feather light over the curves and dips of you, resisting the urge to sink his fingers into your yielding flesh. Not yet. He tells himself. Slow. He tells himself. You sigh and he stops. Makes himself wait. He is so hard it hurts, like fire crawling into his lower belly, vibrating up his spine. It would be so easy to wake you with a kiss, to press his lips to your ear and murmur your name and then nip at that tender juncture. But he does not. He shifts you gently, spreading you open, pauses at each gentle manipulation, presses kisses to the dip of your navel, to the soft slope of your belly, the place where your hip meets your thigh. He rests himself against your lower belly, relishing your warmth, the gentle motion of your breath, your coarse curls against his jaw. Nico stays there a moment, relishing your warmth, your scent, grazes the flesh of your thigh with his teeth, relishing the small, wordless sounds that comes out of you, tongues the crease between thigh and body savoring the salt of your skin, breathes deep against your sex, already swollen and glistening for him, gently spreads you to lap at your clit, a slow drawing of his tongue over you.

"Nico," you shift, and he freezes, his eyes flash up but yours are still closed, flicking back and forth as you dream. He feels guilty, like he's doing something wrong, and somehow that turns him on even more, makes slow, languid circles around your clit, slides a finger inside you and you're so wet, presses the pad of his thumb against you while working his fingers inside, peering up at you, watching your chest heave in time to his movements. He isn't sure if you're asleep or awake and doing your best to pretend, but he knows the way your breath catches as your orgasm mounts. He takes himself in hand and slides inside you, trying to be slow, but you clutch at him, dig your nails into his back and cling for dear life.

"Oh Nico!

"Osita--"

"Don't stop!" You grab his hips and rut against him, arching hard against him when you come, and he follows soon after, collapsing into you, his breath hot and fast against your throat.

You and Nico shower together, smoothing your hands over each other. He washes your back and you wash his, paying attention to the tight muscles that wrap around his lower rib cage, and in turn he presses those strong fingers into the tense chords of your neck. You lean back against his warmth, knowing that this arms will wrap around you and that he'll press his face against your neck.

"Was....was that good for you, Osita?"

"Yeah it was. I could wake up like that every day." He smiles against your skin.

"I would like that very much," he says.

#nico x f!reader #tw somnophilia #nico (house come with a bird) x f!reader #house comes with a bird

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popcornforone · 11 months

Text

Impulsive

A Nico (House Comes With A Bird) Fan Fic

I have been very impulsive really with doing stuff. It’s not like me & I was trying to think which Pedro character that could work with & then I remembered Nico… we know little about him… he seems Romantic but also if he decides on something he does it first & then asks questions later, so I picked him

Synopsis: Your not happy that Nico has made some big decisions that you didn’t agree on but how can you ever stay angry at a man with those eyes.

Word count 1500

Warnings: Do not read if under 18. Mentions of sex, anger, venting, make up sex, impulsive behaviour, angst. A small amount of swearing.not listening.

I tried to write this gender natural again, so I hope I did it okay.

As always that’s for the read peoples. All fees back is welcome.

You’re angry, very angry. Your other half Nico has just assumed your happy to not just move in with him to see if your relationship can withstand being in the same house as him all the time, but he’s automatically, being the confident self assured impulsive man he is, has put both his house & your apartment on the market without even consulting you.

Most people would jump for joy when their partner after 9 months asks them to move in. But he’s rash & he’s impulsive & he’s just gone straight to the estate agents & put your own property on the market without you knowing. It was awkward walking into your apartment while as the estate agent is busy taking photos without your knowledge.

You shouted at Nico once they had left. His self confidence & charm drew you to him at the bar that night. You were desperate to feel any man at all, if you were honest but the one who stayed & didn’t just up & leave once the deed was done was a novelty to you. Him staying around & him waiting on your every word, had you pining for more & more. & suddenly the stay overs became regular, along with the dates & now the occasional weekend away. He really is your perfect man. Except for his impulsive nature which pisses you off 30% of the time. Sometimes it’s just not needed.

Since that day you’ve seen Nico once, for dinner & then sex afterwards, which neither of you put that much effort into, it wasn’t even make up sex, it was just because you both thought you should but neither of you felt a thing. He, in one Impulsive move, as extinguished your fire & passion for him. You still talk & you still really want to be with him, but you need him to realise that this impulsive behaviour, does sometimes go a little bit too far.

You know he’s been house viewing today. He did ask you to come with him on the phone last night but you said at such short notice you couldn’t get the time off work, but you would be interested to see what he likes at a second & third viewing, trying desperately to show to him that things can take time & they don’t have to always be right here right now snap decisions. But you know full well that whoever is showing Nico around whatever house it is will be under his charm straight away. It worked with you after all & you feel a little jealous that someone else will experience this.

The day passes at work, not one voice mail or text or message to say how the viewing went or how did he feel about each of the properties. Nothing, nothing at all. You send him a couple of standard slightly angry partner messages to him to show you’re still not happy but you know why he did that messages, across the day. You sit there waiting for a reply but it just says delivered & then read.

When you get in your car to drive home from work to your little apartment, it comes up with 4 voice mails, all in the last 25 minutes. You don’t even hesitate. You put the aux cable on to listen to them through your car while on your drive back.

Message 1

Babes, house 1 & 2 are duds, there’s no point putting an offer on either of them. I’m still going to go to house 3 so I will send you the details on them so we can talk later. Love you x

Message 2

Do you want a pet bird? I’ve just got here & they have said the bird has to stay with the house, which is weird? Let me know when you get this babes xx

Message 3

I’ve just walked around this house my love & just imagined all the different scenarios we could have here, from having the iced water, to the large fire for making love in front of in the winter & the pool outside, which yes I dipped me toes in & it was freezing, but it just felt right

Fire & water have to coexist so they appreciate the earth.

That’s a bad analogy I know

0kay, please just call me when you’ve got this, I…. I miss your voice

Message 4

Did I do something else to piss you off? your not responding to my messages like you usually do? Oooh it’s Wednesday tho isn’t it… I’ll buy you some wine.

Those are Nicos 4 message. You listen to them intently as you drive home & go to reply when he sends a voice note. “Can I come over?” Is all it says to which you reply of “course my love” knowing you’re only 5mins out. Which then makes you freak out a few mins later when you pull up & see his car always parked outside. He was already here waiting for you before you had said yes.

Nico is waiting outside your apartment door. You know he has access to the spare key in the box, that’s how the estate agents got in, but he hasn’t. He’s got flowers & wine in his hand & a shy apologetic look on his face. You are trying to keep your guard up so he knows you still feel hurt, but with those big brown eyes looking so soft & sad, it’s impossible to not forgive him. That’s why you’ve avoided him, because you know you will instantly let him off the hook for what he did.

“Sorry” he says shyly, the impulsive charmer has gone. Standing in front of you is a sorry boy “say it again Nico” you say as you put your keys in the door & open it. He takes your hand with his spare & leans into your neck from behind & whispers “I’m so sorry, I just got carried away” the smile on your face is huge, playing hard ball has made him all apologetic. Once you are both the other side of the door & it is locked, dinner for the two of you isn’t even considered. The flowers & bottle of wine placed on the table as you take Nico to the bedroom to reignite his impulsive fire.

Your moaning from his charm & passion would make your neighbour feel jealous. Every trace across your body with his long fingers, makes you want more. The way you rock in unison as he takes care of both your needs. His fluffy hair slowly sticking to his face from sweat, & yet he makes sure that yours isn’t covering your face so he can look into your eyes as the desire grows. He wants this. He needs this & he knows that with each thrust between you before you both climax makes you both fall for each other even more. He’s needy & you want it all. The passion, the desire, the lust. He just makes all these emotions over flow inside you & at your most intimate & sensitive moments together, makes you forget that there is a world outside of your bedroom walls.

While you lay in the afterglow & pepper Nicos neck with kisses, apologising to him as well for being angry, he shows you house number 3. It’s perfect but a little large. “Do we need all that space baby” you coo & beam a grin back to his face. “I think we do, I’d like this to be our forever home” this startles you a little but makes your butterflies flutter inside you. “A forever home?” “Well I wanted to say that earlier but thought it would be a little too impulsive after everything that we discussed the other day, I didn’t want to put you in another bad mood” his large hand traces over your shoulder “so what do you say my love, would you like this to be our forever?” Yous lips answer for you, as they collide with his & you pull him back in close. “Never change baby, Keep being impulsive, just let me know major things, when you think of them” he kisses you back & his hand trails down your body “deal baby, but sex doesn’t count as a big decision right?” He winks before he starts to engage in round two. Both your fires reignited, your passion & love for each other alive, & your impulses being taken care of.

#fanfic #my fics #smutt #pedro pascal #no minors #Nico #Nico fan fic #house comes with a bird #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal characters

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infinitamente-azul · 2 years

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House Comes with a Bird (2022) dir. by Janicza Bravo

#house comes with a bird #katherine waterston #poorna jagannathan #kelsey lu #screencaps

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imtryingmybeskar · 2 years

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Days 2&3 of the Pedrotober Drabble Challenge. Nico & Venice.

I have combined Pedrotober drabbles 2&3 into one story. There are a few reasons for this.

1. I started this challenge late so I'm behind.

2. I found it quite nice to segue one story into another.

3. Day 3 is marked as "Venice" which I've taken to mean representing Pedro in real life and RPF isn't for me.

The stories will be separated by asterisks.

Nico x GN! Reader. No warnings except for my slightly flowery prose. Word count: 372

The idyll. Lush garden greenery dotted with scintillas of rainbow hues. The backdrop of glass and steel that spoke to obscene wealth. And in front of it all, the man himself. Perfect, as usual. Immaculate, even with a wayward curl ruffling in the breeze. How was it possible for any man to be attractive in grey slacks, expensive though they be? Yet he was. Is. And knows it. Smirking softly as he sips from a straw buried in the depths of a water bottle, the flash of tongue he bestows a little too lingering to be anything but deliberate. Time to take him down a peg.

"Do you ever wear anything other than that black turtleneck?"

*** *** ***

A crease at his brow. A flash of something behind those transcendent eyes confirming that yes, perfect though he may be he still has feelings. Then,

"Of course," came the carefully smoothed reply, his back already half turned to you as he gracefully disappears back inside his fortress of modernity.

Did you go too far? Finally pushed him beyond the usual facade of gentle teasing that masks your feelings into a true hurt? You get it. His turtlenecks are like his fireplace or his pool or his staircase. Armour as carefully crafted as any of his architecture. As deliberately chosen as any piece of art.

He reappears. This time a celestial vision in purest white and you cannot prevent the gasp that tumbles from your lips.

"Perhaps this is more to your tastes."

A statement, not a query. He moves forward with the grace of a prowling jaguar, flustering you all the more. He knows the effect he has upon you. Revels in it. Sweeps you into his arms, and you summon everything within you to quell the trembling of your heart and voice.

"Your...your bow tie is crooked." A grasping at straws to be sure, but the best that can be done in the circumstances.

His hand is running down the curve of your spine into the small of your back and you realise that it's far too late for any bravado.

"Well then dearest," he murmurs with a cruelly smug twist of his lips. "You shall have to take it off for me."

@thisshipwillsail316 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @midwesternwitchery @just-here-for-the-moment @eri16 @readsalot73 @littlemisspascal @princessxkenobi @harriedandharassed @pagannightwitch @tentacruels @kirsteng42

#nico x gn! reader #drabble #nico house comes with a bird #house comes with a bird

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whiskeynwriting · 1 year

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Birds of a Feather

Okay y'all, "Birds of a Feather" is finally here!

This 5-part mini series (which has been co-written with @phnyx) revolves around Pedro Pascal's character "Nico" from the short film "House Comes with a Bird". Reader is unnamed with few to no descriptions. The series trope is "Unsuspecting love", and the summary is at the end of this post!

Below is the series' posting schedule!

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(*) = smut

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11/14

Chapter One: Disinterested

Chapter Two: Acquainted

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11/21

Chapter Three: Intrigued (*)

Chapter Four: Enticed (*)

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11/28

Finale! Chapter Five: Mesmerized (*)

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Series Summary

What begins as a summer job turns out to be a much more mysterious occupation than you thought. Your boss' name goes undetected for longer than expected, as well as his feelings surrounding your stay. It wasn't his idea to bring you into his home, but after observing you, he wonders, how bad could this actually be? This twenty-something year old girl helping him sort out his life may be more useful than he thought.

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Side Note: this series will open up a mini universe to write future one-shots in!

◆

#Birds of a Feather #Birds of a Feather series #BoaF #BoaF series #Nico #Nico x you #Nico x reader #Nico x female reader #House Comes with a Bird #Pedro Pascal

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 2 years

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The Places Where I Missed You Most

June Drabbles 2022 Day 20 - Sailboat

A/N: I have been wanting to challenge myself to write a drabble a day for a whole month for quite some time now, and I finally decided to just go for it. The goal is to fill every prompt on this list by @creativepromptsforwriting with a short one shot (500 - 2k words) by the end of June. Can I do it? I do not know. But let’s find out! - HAHAHA the answer, as we have come to find out, is no, I cannot. But I am not letting failure stop me, because I, my friends, am stubborn. After this one there are just 10 prompts to go, and at least two of those will be combined, so we’re looking at a maximum 8 more drabbles. I appreciate your patience (or quiet impatience) as much as I appreciate anyone who has read along with these thus far. I hope you enjoy this one, which is meant to be a follow up of sorts to A Clumsy Romance. This takes place about a month after the end of that one - after the return trip to Buenos Aires, which I have plans to write eventually.

Word Count: 2,089

Warning: implied smut

Summary: You and Nico have ten years to catch up on. Unsurprisingly, he has an unconventional method of doing so.

“I made a list.”

That was one of the things Nico told you the first night that you spent naked in his arms. It was late October, and a low flame flickered behind the glass doors of the fireplace. He said that he wanted to watch the light dance on your skin, and the shape of the shadows that the movement of your bodies created, and you were all too happy to indulge him. He’d lit the fire hours ago, but by then its roar had quieted to an intermittent crack, its glow dimmed to a deep orange. You were tucked to his torso, laying on his chest so that you could feel his contented heartbeat against your cheek, right in time with the soft thrum of his pulse on the pads of your fingers where they rested along the side of his neck. One of your legs was draped over and between both of his as he used his index finger to trace the ridge of your eyebrow. His knuckle over the slope of your nose. Thumb across the pillow of your lips. His other hand traveled up and down the length of your back, following slightly different tracks each time it ran North to South. South to North. North to the equator, palm settling midway along your spine for a few seconds before wandering South again.

“A list that’s ten years long.” He punctuated that addition by brushing a kiss to your hairline, his breath fanning over your temple as he brought the hand that had been charting the contours of your face down to wrap both arms around you, holding you firmly in place. As though there was anywhere in the world I would rather be.

As though there was anything you wouldn’t give to have been with him for the entirety of the last decade.

Sliding your fingers up, you let them drop anchor in the soft waves of his thick hair. You couldn’t change the past, but you could show him where you stood in the present - and where you hoped to stay in the future. “What kind of list, Nico?”

The second his name left your lips there was a swelling warmth in the center of your chest. After ten long years - and all the doubt that you would ever see him again that came with them - the fact that he was there in your bed and not just in your dreams was intoxicating. You knew that the odds of the two of you finding each other the first time around were slim. Finding him again? That probability was so infinitesimally small that it didn’t even register. But that didn’t mean that you hadn’t thought about him. Or that you didn’t scan every crowd you found yourself in for his face. Or that you hadn’t wondered how your life would have been different had you made it back to Buenos Aires. You swallowed and shoved all of that aside, focusing on the way your body rose and fell with his breathing. On the heat that passed from his skin to yours. On the odds you were defying as your nails lightly scratched his scalp.

“A running list,” he answered. “Of the places where I’ve missed you most. Places I’ve been where I… where I found myself wishing you were with me.”

His words made your breath shudder, and though he still had both arms around you, you pushed yourself up so that you could look into his eyes, his grip loosening to accommodate without letting you go completely. He was staring at you, staring into you the same way that he did in front of Casa Rosada as the stars began to fade into the early morning light. You brought the arm that had previously been folded against his side up so that you could slide that hand over the side of his face as you whispered his name. There were a handful of grays scattered through his sparse beard, and some striking through the length of your hair. Both of you bore a few more creases and wrinkles in places, carved there by laughter and concern through the years. Neither of you were as fit or firm as you were when you met. But the way that he looked at you was the same. The way you craved the feeling of his eyes on you was the same. Like nothing changed. Even though so many things have.

“Some of them are simple,” he went on, resuming the exploration of your back with both hands now. “Local markets. The post office. Airports and park benches.” He blinked, dropping his gaze down to your lips before raising it back up to take in your whole face again. “Places where I would sometimes picture you walking next to me.” Reaching from your back up to the side of his own face, Nico wrapped his fingers around yours. “Holding my hand.” A wistful spark lit the darkest part of his eyes as he smiled.

You couldn’t fight the urge to lean down and kiss him then. And I don’t have to. His digits spread wide to lace with yours as his lips parted so that your tongue could glide along his. He groaned, and you felt the curl of his upper lip and the press of his palm between your shoulder blades as he prolonged the kiss. You allowed him to, sighing at the graze of his teeth. There was no ticking clock to contend with like there was the night that you met, no countdown looming on the horizon to force you to cut moments like this one short. So you didn’t, letting the kiss ebb and flow until it naturally drew to a close.

When it did you pulled back, the hand that you had in his hair dropping down to curve around his shoulder. “And the other places?” You asked, the tips of your fingers digging gently into his flesh. “On your list?”

“Those are more specific.” He rested your still joined hands on his sternum. “Places I traveled to. Places that made me feel something.”

“Will you tell me about some of them?” You shifted to settle yourself back in your original position, Nico’s lips landing high on your forehead once more to set your heart spinning. “Tell me what made them stick out?”

“No.” No? This time when you tried to lift yourself up to look at him, his thick arms locked you down. What is- He tilted his chin down and murmured your name into your hair. “I would rather show you.” Oh. That’s… I’d - “That way you can see them for yourself. See what you feel instead of me just telling you what I felt.”

“Compare notes,” you mused.

Nico hummed. “Yeah. Something like that.”

“Are any of these places close?” You turned your head so that you could drag your lips lightly over his collarbone and up towards the freckles that dotted his neck. “Any that you can show me maybe… next weekend?”

“Driving distance?” He asked, curling the fingers of his free hand to let the points of his knuckles take the lead on the expedition previously led by his fingertips, letting them roll along either side of your backbone. You could feel the excitement in his question, and you realized that this was the reason he’d brought up the list to begin with. Because he’s got a place in mind. Somewhere he wants to show me first. You nodded, confirming what you meant by close. “Yes.” He squeezed your hand. “A few hours in the car. Do you want to-”

“I do, Nico.” Very much.

Releasing your hand, he placed one finger beneath your chin and used it to direct your focus to his eyes, the desire-tinted happiness in them knocking the breath from your lungs. “Then it’s a date.” It is. “Right now though, the only place I want to be is here.” His hand moved from your face to the back of your head, and you watched the embers from the fire leap into his eyes. “Right here with you.” He rolled his hips up into yours and you moaned at the way that he caught you off guard. “Just like this.”

– – – – –

The following weekend you found yourself struck stunned and speechless as you stood on the deck of the 30 foot sailboat he’d rented for the day, Utah’s Great Salt Lake stretching out for miles on all sides of you. In the distance you could just make out the outline of Gunnison Island, though from this far out you could only distinguish it from the other land masses by the number of pelicans swooping and perching along the coast. You’d set out - the rental included a captain, which you were thankful for because you had never been on a boat before and hadn’t the slightest clue about how to steer or work the sails - with enough time to separate from the mainland so that you could watch the sunset paint the water, the super-salinated water splashing color back into the sky in return. Each second that it sank lower, the angle of light reflecting off the water changed, making everything shimmer and showing you shades and tones of nature that you’d never experienced before. The mountains poked up around the far edges of the enormous lake, just to remind you that they were grand in size, too. With a flash of peachy, golden light over the sometimes cobalt, sometimes slate, sometimes crystal clear surface, you understood what Nico meant when he said that the places on his list were places that made him feel.

I’ve never seen anything like this. You felt a surge of adrenaline as you took a deep breath, followed by a wave of calm as you let it out. The boat rocked lazily beneath your feet and the salty air blew through your hair, and you let yourself get lost in the feeling of being small in a giant place, an ancient place - a place where Nico had specifically thought of you when he experienced it for the first time.

“It’s the light.” His voice came from behind you as he wound his arms around your waist, the right one reaching up to cross to your left shoulder as he pulled your back flush to his chest. He turned to press a kiss to your temple. “The way it glows.” He spoke your name but didn’t move to look at you, clearly wanting you to enjoy the view for as long as possible. “We saw a sunrise together in Argentina all those years ago, but not a sunset.” The orange globe in the sky began to dip and the colors shifted again. “This is the most captivating place in the world that I have ever watched a sunset.”

You had to agree that it took your previous number one spot and shattered it to bits. “It’s…” Your words slipped away with your breath and you shook your head. “Beautiful.” It seemed an inadequate description, but you knew from the mere fact that it was on his list of places that it was more about the feeling than the flimsy words you could try to use to encapsulate it. And he understands that, too.

“It is,” he agreed, the sails snapping overhead as they caught a gusty breeze. “And now that you’re here with me, it’s even more exquisite, more… radiant.” The hand he had on your shoulder dropped down to splay over your heart. “Can you feel it? Why I… the reason that I came here and thought of you? Of us?”

Us. For ten years you told yourself that there could never be an us for you and him. That there wasn’t anything more than a memory shared by strangers for a few hours. But that had never been true. And it wasn’t true now. Raising your hand to cover his, you leaned back to rest your head against him. “I can.”

He kissed you again, this time closer to your ear, and spoke your name. “There are thirteen other places on my list.” Thirteen? “And I am looking forward to showing you all of them.” You felt the ridge of his nose conform to the curve of your head. “No more missing you.”

“No.” You sighed dreamily, eyes still on the horizon, but attention solely on the way it felt to be in his arms in one of the most beautiful places on Earth. “No more of that, Nico.”

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please feel free to let me know or you can fill out the form on my masterlist.

tags: @something-tofightfor @littlemisspascal @alraedesigns @lowlights @writeforfandoms @nuttyenthusiastdetective @its-mochi-boba-tea-blr @harriedandharassed @swtaura @practicalghost @trickstersp8 @princessxkenobi @imtryingmybeskar @mswarriorbabe80

#nico (house comes with a bird)#nico x female reader #nico x you #pedrostories #house comes with a bird #(so does gunnison island)#pedro pascal character #nico (house comes with a bird) fic #a clumsy romance #the places where i missed you most #june drabbles 2022 #day 20- sailboat

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cunninghamh2014 · 1 year

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sophfandoms53 · 2 years

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Ignoring all the sadness about no more bird shenanigans, is this just gonna be a frame of Flapjack that we never get an explanation for LMAO

He literally pecked the hole that Amity fell in AND tripped over and he’s just like “man…. She fell… wonder how that happened? Sure is a mystery…”

LIKE SIR YOU DID THIS PLS

Also the storyboard version of this is just as funny

#if somebody actually knows why this is flapjacks expression let me know #admittedly in the storyboard he looks more concerned #but the final animation does not portray that at all #it really comes off as him being the little shit that he is #i refuse to use past tense frick you #FLAPJACK ILY AND ALWAYS WILL #MY FAVORITE BIRD #the owl house #toh #the owl house spoilers #toh spoilers

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boliv-jenta · 1 year

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Nico x f!reader x omc.

Part of this masterlist.

Warnings: SMUT! Mentions of anal sex, cheating, spanking. Pegging, m&f receiving oral sex, m&f masturbation, cum eating.

Summary: When Nico and Angelo further your education, you take the lessons leaned into other areas of your life.

Desires

It was a beautiful day. The summer months had been glorious. Perfect travelling salesman weather, according to your husband. "Now is a perfect time for me to go a bit further a field. Kids are home for the summer, making all kinds of messed. A couple of months of me driving around will definitely secure me that promotion." He pitched you whole thing after packing up the car.

You played the doting wife as he left, waved him off. Angelo had even crossed the street to join you on the sidewalk with a wave of his own. Your husband felt 'reassured that a Doctor would be around to keep an eye on you'.

If only he knew the doctor in question had given you a very through physical on the three occasions you had met as well as being the first man you had anal sex with. Something that he took a ridiculous amount of pride in. He'd had Nico train you for hours while he wasn't there. Angelo had cursed in a number of languages as he had finally been able to full sheath himself inside you. Nico had smiled warmly at Angelo's joy in his achievement. He'd even pressed a soft kiss to your temple. Something that was a rarity. His softness only bled through now and then.

Nico's was always softer when Angelo was around. His house was warmer, more full of life. Not that Nico wasn't fun, just sometimes there was something with him. Instead of being confident and uninhibited it was as if a wall was put up, a line in the sand he couldn't cross, like he had to rein himself in.

While Nico showered one day, Angelo painted your toes. Black, a colour you would have never chosen on your own but you had to agree it looked chic. It was one of his favourites, you'd noticed since he hated wearing shoes. He held your leg up, careful brushed the colour on, pressing the odd kiss to your calf. "Angelo?" He hummed back at you, engrossed it his work. "How did you and Nico meet?"

The tiny brush in his hand paused on your pinkie toe. "He didn't tell you?"

That answer to that seemed obvious. "No."

"That might be something you want to ask him. He can be very private."

"You can't even give me a hint?" The foot that he had just released made it's way to his lap.

"Oh." He groaned indecently at the contact. "Hey, you'll smudge." He pushed your foot away.

"Please?"

"No, you can ask him."

A mock pout set on your lips. "Fine."

"Don't 'fine' me." He kissed your pout. His fingers came up to tease you through your panties. "I can't tell you anything but we can work on that g spot orgasm." As much as you wanted to know about Nico's past, the offer was more than tempting.

When you'd questioned why they put you in certain positions and marvelled at how good it felt, they had decided to show you. Nico's expensive sheets and cloud like mattress cradled you as the two men lay either side of you. Both dressed to a degree that was unfair. The only flesh on show were their forearms and a slither of their chests. You however were naked, legs spread wide both knees anchored by a man each.

"So you already know how to touch your clit." Angelo parted your folds, running a finger over the bundle of nerves in question. When you arched slightly as his touch, Nico dipped his head to your nipple, now in reach and swirled his tongue around it. A playful smirk on his face. You liked this Nico. This was when he seemed most at ease, with the two of you. When you were alone it was strangely business like. Not the sex itself, that was...fuck, mind blowing, transcendent, all sorts of other words you seen in those romance novels that you didn't believe actually applied to sex. Whether he was in charge or he was letting you take control, he was always present during the act itself but as soon as things were done, he closed off a little. He check you were okay, physically and emotionally. Offered you food and water, to walk you home. You'd always graciously decline, you both knew full well he would still wait on his porch until you were safely home. Not that he would admit to it or that you would admit to enjoying it.

The other Nico that was quickly growing on you was what Angelo called him being a 'sub'. It was when he let you or Angelo be in charge. Honestly, you weren't sure what you enjoyed more. Watching the two of them have sex was always an experience. The way it lit you up from the inside, you often wondered if you could come just from watching them take pleasure in each other's bodies. When you got to be in charge it was a whole other rush. From the moment Nico had placed the paddle in your hands, presented himself naked on all fours, willing, vulnerable, the power had been a trip. To make him come apart without touching him in a way you wouldn't usually consider sexual was thrilling. He enjoyed the pain. It was as if it was beyond a sexual need. It was clarifying. Grounding. Not that you ever brought it up to him. He was so through when describing the root of your needs and desires. He tell you why he thought they itched under your skin. Why you liked his boundaries. Why you liked the control. When it came his own, he was blunt, mechanical, he'd just tell you the physical act he needed.

When you were alone, the weeks between Angelo's visits, the guest room was where you spent your time together. It suited the situation better. It was spartan, designed for a purpose. Just as your time together was. Nico was open with the fact that he wasn't in this, what ever this was, for the intimacy. His touch never strayed from seductive or sexual. If his hand was on you it was for a purpose, it didn't linger. It may temporarily sooth but that's as far as it would go. It wasn't there to comfort or support. He wasn't there for that. He was there to satisfy you, fuck you to ecstasy, empower you. The room became his classroom, he taught you how to claim your high. He showed you things your hadn't even thought of. Foreplay was a big one. With your husband it consisted of a little making out to 'get in the mood'. Nico taught you it's purpose, how to make you dripping wet, how to get your blood pumping.

"Just like every taste, every touch, every smell, gets me harder, gets me physically ready, it does the same for you." His fingers had you spread so he could tease your engorged clit. "The more turned on you are, the easier it is to stimulate all the right places." He punctuated his sentence with a sharp suck of your clit.

He chuckled against your folds as your hips snapped up and a surprised moan let loose from you.

Making his way from the bed to his toy chest he pulled out what looked like a large leather tassle. Running his fingers thought it he presented it to you. "Do you want it?"

Curiosity got the better of you as you nodded. With a hand on your knee, Nico pulled you onto your side, crossing on leg over the other as he did, exposing your thigh to him. With a flick of his wrist he whipped the soft flesh there. The material was soft, it still left a little sting, it felt good. Like when he bit you or squeezed just a little too roughly.

He waited for you response. This wasn't something you wanted to explore tonight.

"Can we try something else? Can I try something on you?" Big brown eyes scanned yours in that way that he did. It was like he thought he could read everything about you if he looked hard enough.

"I think I have something." He pulled out a long velvet bag. Undoing the knot he shook something out of it. A long, ruby red dildo fell out into his hand.

"You can use this on me. It's going to need plenty of lube. What don't you help with that?" He slipped it between your legs, dragged it through your folds. "Come on, Kitten." He sat on the bed, grabbing the lube from it's now ever present place on his nightstand. He applied a generous amount. His large hand curled around the base, bracing the dildo against his thick thigh, he beckoned you over. "I want you to ride it until you come."

As you sunk down on it your lips parted in a gasp. Usual Nico would seize the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, steal your breath while it was so readily given. This time he just leant back on his elbow. "This is all you, Babygirl. Show me what you've learnt." Moving up and down on the toy the only contact you had with Nico was odd graze of his fingers wrapped tightly around the base. This was all you. You were finding those spots he had no trouble seeking out, every time he was inside you. You were igniting the fire low in your belly, stoking it with every bounce. Shifting your position you found somewhere that made your legs shake with the intensity of it.

Nico could see you were close. "That's it. Take what you need. You don't need anyone to give you your pleasure. It's all in your control."

He was right. Working yourself on the toy, it was you in control, not Nico, not Angelo, certainly not your husband. You. You screamed as you made yourself orgasm.

"Good girl." Nico breathed as he watched you come down from your high, pussy trembling around the toy and leaking onto his thigh.

His cock was red from lack of attention. He wanted to bury it in you. Enjoy how wet you are right now but that's not what you asked for. Ignoring the heavy bob of his length between his legs he moved to retrieve the harness. After a few awkward giggles from you he got you set up. The dildo protruded from the apex of your thighs. "How do I...? I mean what do I...?" You'd asked, only for Nico to get on all fours on the bed. "You can work it out." He informed you before settling with his ass in the air.

Tentively, you lined the toy up with his enterance. Pushing your hips forward steadily you were met with resistance but the moan Nico let out told you that you were doing the right thing. If he were working himself into you this would be the point where he would start to pull back and thrust a little. You emulated the motion, earning another moan. The sounds you pulled from him spurred you on until you were, metaphorically, balls deep inside him. Using a strength you didn't know you had, you were fucking him roughly and he loved every minute of it. "Oh fuck, yeah. Right there, doing so well Honey. Gonna make me cum." He babbled into the sheets below him. He words stoked your pride, gave you the courage to copy him further. Mercilessly, you pounded the toy into him. His groans became so loud you could feel them in your own chest.

"Shit. Wait. Stop." He begged. Instantly you stopped.

Nico heaved himself off the toy to rearrange himself on his back. With his hands on his knee he spread himself wide. "Keep going. I just wanted you to see it."

Too lost in the power you had over this beautiful man, flushed, chest heaving, spread out ready for you, you didn't even ask what he meant before pushing back inside of him. Bottoming out you fucked him ruthlessly again. He clawed at the headboard behind him, the muscles in his arms straining deliciously. "Oh. Oh! Oh fuck." He began to arch off the bed as he came, leading your eyes down to his cock. It was stood straight away from his body, it pulsed and the head swelled briefly before a rope of cum shot out of it. Then another. And another. It was so strange to see Nico cum without touching his cock. It was also ridiculously arousing.

The memories served you in the here and now, aiding your arousal. Angelo's hand was over yours, his thick finger sliding in and out of your slick channel next to yours.

"That's it Bebita. Just find what works for you. The pace. The rhythm. You look so pretty all worked up. You're god damn stunning when you come. So free." He kissed you deeply.

When he moved back out of your eye line Nico was behind him. Water dripped from his curls, more pronounced than he usually wore them. A towel slung low on his waist did nothing to hide his erection. Dropping his towel as walked he adjusted his thick length.

"She can take care of herself." He shot a wink at you before lay Angelo on the bed, next to you.

Angelo groaned at the cool water from Nico's hair hit his chest, while Nico sucked on his nipple. Nico worked his way downward, sucking, nipping, licking at his golden skin until he came to his erection. Without hesitation he took Angelo's length deep into his throat. The chorus of moans between them made you desperate to find your peak. Angelo would moan at the sensation of his cock in Nico's warm, wet mouth. Nico would moan at giving Angelo pleasure, which vibrated against Angelo, giving him more pleasure and Nico more satisfaction. Nico's eyes never left yours. Even when yours closed or rolled back when they returned to the same spot Nico's eyes were there waiting. Even with his head bobbing on Angelo's cock.

"Ay Papi, I'm gonna cum." Angelo whined. Nico moved his head up from having his nose nestled in the curls at the base of Angelo's shaft. He pulled Angelo's cock from his mouth, leaving it open with his tongue pressed to the head. Nico's eyes burned into you as he pumped Angelo through his orgasm catching his release on his tongue. It was enough to trigger your own release as your muscles rhythmically clenched around your fingers. Your release gushed around them. Before your head was clear, Nico had removed your hand, he held it in his as sucked your juices from it. Wrapping his hand around his own girth, he fucked his fist. He didn't make a show out of it like he did when he watched you. It was quick and functional. The span of his massive hand did nothing to dwarf the size of his manhood. The squelch of lube and the rhythmic thwack of his fist against his balls mixed with his grunts and moans. It was a shock to see him come so quickly. Even with attention from both you and Angelo, his stamina was impressive. He coated your stomach in minutes. Angelo had partially recover and lazily he lapped at Nico's cum before coming to rest his head on your chest. Nico looked at the two of you fondly, you didn't expect him to lay down next you his head mirroring Angelo's. The afternoon passed in a lazy haze of touches. Each man making you cum with their fingers, as they kissed your breasts or each other. Each of them came at least once more from a combination of touches, yours, each other's, their own. By dinner time, the three of you had to go get cleaned up, with the copious amounts of bodily fluids painting your skins. Dinner was light but satisfying, a steak salad, paired with Nico's favourite wine. As the night drew in you were tempted to stay, you knew neither of them would objected. They would make you feel welcome and wanted. Part of you wanted to give in to it, to savour it a little longer. The rest of you knew it wasn't right, none of this was right.

As Nico and Angelo settled down for the night, you went home to take a step that you should have long ago and with new found focus on your own pleasure that Nico had inspired, you pulled out all your paper work and began making plans for your future.

Tags @kirsteng42 @babydarkstar @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @graciexmarvel @kinda-nobody

#house comes with a bird #pedro pascal character fanfiction #nico #nico x f!reader #nico x f!reader x male oc

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