-- your boyfriend, nico, is the most caring man ever
nicholas x fem!reader | wc: 777 | fluff, fluff anddd fluff | masterlist
warnings: mentions of headaches, maybe language, readers in college, and some kisses
****
nicholas came home to find you hunched over your study desk with the palms of your hands pressing into your eyes. the lights in the apartment were either all off or dimmed, and the only strong light was the one on your desk to help you see your notes.
you'd been complaining for weeks about how this finals test was eating you inside out. and he hated that he couldn't really do anything about it.
he tries his best to empathize with you, but there really was only so much he could do.
quietly, he makes his presence known, he puts his bag on the ground and his sock clad feet make a distant scratching noise against the apartments wooden floors.
"y/n? baby?" he whispers when he gets right behind you.
you removed your hands from your face, blinking a bit to get rid of the blurriness your previous actions caused. "hey, nico." you said, your voice soft but sounding a bit dry. you probably haven't spoken in a while.
his hands moved from his sides to your shoulders, softly kneading the skin. a sigh escaping your lips as you suddenly reached over for a tissue from the box you kept on your desk.
turning your head, you looked up at him. your eyes shining with tears that are yet to fall. and he hears a quiet sniffle from you and he leans down to give you a peck on your cheek.
"talk to me, baby, what's wrong?" a hand of his held your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. his own way to give you the comfort you needed without being too overbearing.
you shook your head, clearing out your throat. "where do I even start?" you replied with a weak laugh. "my whole month has just felt terrible. I've been constantly canceling plans with everyone just to study and do my work, and now that its finals week it just sucks even more." you take a deep breath. "And I just have these, like, nagging headaches that won't go away. I've tried drinking more water, taking pain killers, but it just doesn't stop. I mean, my head just feels so tight and its like someone just beat the shit out of all my senses. Everything is either too loud or too bright."
his brows furrowed on his own face, his heart itself tightening at your confession.
"and I've been stuck studying the same fucking lesson because it just wont stick in my head." you finally sob, the last words coming out broken and frayed.
he didn't say anything, he just held you against him as you let everything out.
he felt your hands curl against the hoodie he was wearing, his own hands rubbing against your back softly.
he knows what it's like to be overworked and stressed out to the point of extreme exhaustion. but for now he wont say anything. he knows all you need right now is silence and his physical comfort.
it was probably around the fifteen minute mark when he pulled away slightly. he grabbed your hand and ushered your body up.
"come on," he gave you a small smile, "how about you take a bath, hm? something to relax you and your body. stay in there as long as you'd like. and when you come out, I'll have tea and your bed ready for you."
you shook your head, "no, babe, I can't do that. what about you? you're probably tired after today." you said with a frown.
"don't worry about me." he reassured. "I'm fine, sweetheart."
you soaked in your bath for a while, time slipping by as you closed your eyes in there. the low lights, soft scents and sound of the water moving was enough to lull you to slumber.
and when you came out, an old loose pajama set you had was on you.
it was true, he had your bed ready, your favorite tea sitting on your nightstand as steam floated from it and the sound machine he usually used plugged in the room opposite of your bed. you figured it was so it worked as a low hum in the background instead of a loud white noise right by your ears.
the two of you crawled into bed, holding onto each other as he toyed with the ends of your hair.
"tell me. anytime you feel like this, or just anytime you need to unwind." he needed you to be able to reach out to him, because he didn't want you facing what you went through alone. maybe you'd done that in the past but not anymore. not with him.
"I love you, nico. so much." your words came out muffled as your face was against his chest. "love you, too, dreamer."
A/N: This story is slightly based on my family's trip to Austria because my father used to get us lost, and he would make friends with everyone we met along the way. One time when we were hiking in France, he carried 1kg of jam along with some baguettes up a mountain, and we met a Dutch family who had 1kg of Nutella. That is still one of my favourite memories.
Pairing: Nico Hischier x reader
Words: 7,9k
Warning(s): none
The morning air in the Swiss mountains feels different from anywhere else. It’s crisp and cool even though the sun is already warming the valleys, and every breath you take smells faintly of pine trees and fresh grass. Your family had insisted on waking up early to make the most of the day, claiming the national park would be quieter before the crowds arrived.
You hadn’t complained, though. There was something peaceful about being here, far from the usual noise of daily life. Switzerland in the summer looked almost unreal. With its endless green slopes, tiny wooden chalets scattered in the distance, and snow still clinging to the faraway mountain peaks.
The gravel path crunches underneath your hiking shoes as you walk slightly ahead of your family. Your parents and siblings are a few steps behind you, debating which trail leads to the waterfall marked on the map.
“Are you sure it’s this trail?” your dad asks from behind you.
“That’s what the sign said,” your mom replies.
Your sister groans dramatically. “We’ve been walking for twenty minutes.”
You smile to yourself and keep moving forward, enjoying the quiet. A breeze moves through the valley, carrying the distant sound of cowbells. You slow your pace, letting the quiet settle around you. A wooden sign marks the entrance to a narrower trail that winds deeper into the national park. You step onto it without thinking much, assuming your family will follow. You reach a bend in the trail where the path narrows slightly.
At the exact same moment someone rounds the corner from the other direction. You both stop abruptly.
“Oh—sorry!” you say quickly, stepping back a little.
The guy in front of you had clearly been just as surprised. He pauses for a second, then smiles, brushing a hand through his dark hair.
“No, that was my fault too,” he says. His voice is warm and relaxed, like someone who’s just enjoying a quiet day outside.
You glance at him briefly while stepping aside to give him space on the trail. He looks like any other hiker you might see here. He was wearing simple hiking shorts, a dark T-shirt, and a small backpack slung over one shoulder. There’s something familiar about his face, but you can’t place why. Maybe he just has one of those faces that look like someone you’ve seen before.
“Nice day for a hike,” he adds.
You nod, glancing around at the mountains towering above the trees.
“Yeah, it’s beautiful here.”
“Are you visiting?” he asks.
“Yeah. My family and I are on vacation.” You gesture vaguely behind you where their voices are still echoing faintly through the forest. “They’re currently having a serious discussion about a map.”
That makes him laugh softly.
“I know that situation.”
“You too?”
“All the time,” he says with a grin.
There’s a small pause, but it doesn’t feel awkward. Just quiet and peaceful, filled with birdsong and the rustle of leaves overhead.
“What about you?” you ask. “Do you live around here?”
“Kind of,” he says. “I grew up in Switzerland. I come back during the summer whenever I can.”
You glance out toward the mountains again. From this angle you can see a distant peak still covered in snow, even in July.
“Honestly,” you say, “I would too. If I grew up somewhere like this, I’d never want to leave.”
He smiles a little at that.
“Yeah… it’s pretty hard to beat.”
Footsteps crunch on the trail behind you.
“There you are!” your sister calls out.
You turn just in time to see your family finally catching up. Your parents stop when they notice the stranger you’ve been talking to.
Your dad gives a polite nod, “Sorry if we’re holding up the trail.”
The guy shakes his head quickly. “Not at all.”
Your mom smiles kindly. “Are you hiking alone?”
“Yeah, just enjoying the park for a bit,” he says.
Your family doesn’t seem to recognize him either. To them he’s just another friendly person on the trail.
Your sister glances between the two of you with a small smirk.
“Making friends already?”
You roll your eyes.
“We literally just almost ran into each other.”
“That’s one way to meet someone,” she teases.
The guy chuckles quietly.
“Well, I’m glad we didn’t actually collide.”
“Same,” you say.
For a moment everyone just stands there, the forest quiet around you except for the soft wind moving through the trees. Then he shifts his backpack slightly.
“I should probably keep going,” he says. “The trail gets really nice further up.”
“Thanks for the tip,” you reply.
He gives you one last friendly smile before continuing down the path past your family.
You watch him disappear around the curve in the trail.
Your sister nudges your arm immediately.
“Cute hiker,” she whispers.
“Oh my god, stop,” you mutter.
Your parents are already focused on the map again, debating directions like nothing happened.
Meanwhile, somewhere further along the trail, the friendly stranger you just met, who happens to be Nico Hischier, continues his hike through the quiet Swiss mountains.
And you walk on with your family, completely unaware that the guy you just chatted with is actually a professional hockey player. To you, he’s simply the nice stranger you bumped into on a sunny trail in the mountains of Switzerland, for now at least.
The trail continues deeper into the forest after that encounter, winding slowly upward along the mountainside. Your family resumes walking, the earlier moment already fading into the background of the day. Gravel crunches beneath your shoes as the path climbs higher, and every so often the trees thin out enough to reveal breathtaking views of the valley below.
You glance back once, almost without realizing it. But the stranger is already gone, the bend in the trail hiding him completely.
“Come on,” your mom calls. “If we keep stopping, we’ll never reach the lake.”
You turn forward again and keep walking. The hike becomes steeper as you move farther into the national park. Tall pine trees surround the path now, their branches stretching high above you and filling the air with the scent of resin.
The silence here is different from city quiet. It’s full of small sounds. Birds calling from somewhere deep in the forest. The rustle of leaves. The distant ringing of cowbells drifting from farms somewhere far down in the valley. You breathe in deeply, letting the mountain air fill your lungs. This is exactly the kind of vacation you needed.
About twenty minutes later, the trail opens into a wide clearing. The trees pull back suddenly, revealing a meadow filled with wildflowers and tall grass swaying gently in the breeze. Beyond it, the mountains rise dramatically, their rocky slopes glowing in the midday sun. In the centre of the clearing sits a small wooden bench near a trail marker, and someone is sitting there. You recognize him immediately. The same dark hair, the same relaxed posture. He’s leaning forward slightly with his elbows resting on his knees, a water bottle loosely held in one hand. It was the stranger from earlier.
He looks up when he hears footsteps approaching. For a brief second, surprise flashes across his face. Then he smiles again.
“Well,” he says, standing up slightly. “Guess we’re taking the same route.”
You laugh softly, “I guess so.”
Your family spreads out across the clearing, grateful for the chance to rest. Your dad immediately sits down on the grass while your mom begins digging through the backpack for snacks. Your sister wanders toward the edge of the meadow to take photos of the mountains. Meanwhile you end up standing near the bench again, only a few steps away from the stranger.
“You weren’t kidding about the trail getting nice,” you say, looking out at the view.
“It gets even better a little higher up,” he replies. “There’s a lake maybe forty minutes from here.”
You glance toward the path that continues climbing beyond the clearing.
“Forty minutes doesn’t sound too bad.”
He shrugs slightly.
“Depends how fast you hike.”
You grin.
“That’s true.”
For a moment the two of you stand there quietly, both looking out at the mountains. The wind moves through the meadow, making the tall grass ripple like waves. You still can’t quite shake the strange feeling that his face looks familiar somehow, but you’re pretty sure you’ve never met him before.
“Are you hiking the whole trail today?” you ask.
“Probably,” he says. “I’ve got the time.”
“That must be nice.”
“It is,” he admits with a small smile.
Your mom suddenly appears beside you, handing you a granola bar. “Energy break,” she says.
“Thanks.”
She glances briefly at the guy next to you, giving him a friendly nod.
“Nice weather for it today.”
“Perfect weather,” he agrees politely.
Your mom smiles and then heads back toward the rest of your family, leaving the two of you alone again near the bench.
You unwrap the granola bar, taking a bite as you look out across the meadow.
“So do you hike here a lot?” you ask between bites.
“Whenever I’m back home,” he says. “It’s a good way to relax.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” You nod.
There’s something about the mountains that makes conversations slower and calmer. Neither of you seems in a rush to fill the silence. After a moment he gestures toward the path ahead.
“Are you guys going to the lake too?”
You glance back at your family. Your dad is studying the map again. Your sister is lying in the grass staring up at the sky. You turn back to him.
“I think that’s the plan.”
He nods thoughtfully.
“If you want, I can show you the easier route once the trail splits. It’s not marked very clearly.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“You offering to be our guide?”
“Just trying to prevent you from getting lost,” he says with a small grin.
You laugh.
“That might actually be helpful.”
At that moment your sister suddenly jogs over, clearly having noticed that you’re still talking to the same guy.
“So, you meet again,” she says, clearly amused.
“Apparently we’re hiking the same trail,” you reply.
She looks at him curiously.
“I’m guessing you’re local then?”
“More or less,” he answers.
Your sister nods thoughtfully.
“Well, if you know where the lake is, you’re officially the most valuable person on this trail.” He laughs quietly at that.
“Where are you guys visiting from?” he asks.
You brush a strand of hair away from your face.
“The Netherlands,” you say. “We wanted mountains for once.”
He smiles slightly at that.
“Yeah… you definitely came to the right place for that.”
You laugh.
“That’s what my dad said when he booked the trip.”
Your sister nods dramatically. “Back home the biggest ‘hill’ near us is basically a bridge.”
That makes him laugh.
“I’ve heard that before.”
Meanwhile, your parents begin packing up the snacks and standing again.
“Ready to continue?” your dad calls.
You glance at the stranger.
“So… lake guide?”
He stands from the bench, adjusting the strap of his backpack.
“Lake guide.”
And just like that, the quiet hike through the Swiss mountains turns into something slightly more interesting. Together, you start walking again, following the trail as it climbs higher into the bright green hills of Switzerland. Beside you walks the friendly stranger you bumped into earlier, a guy whose name you still don’t know.
The trail leaving the meadow grows narrower as it winds deeper into the mountains. The grass slowly disappears, replaced by rougher ground scattered with rocks and patches of alpine flowers. Small purple and yellow blossoms grow stubbornly between stones, and every so often the wind carries the faint scent of wild herbs through the air.
Your family follows the path in a loose group, but without really planning it, you end up walking beside the stranger again. He walks easily, like someone who has hiked these trails many times before. His steps are relaxed but steady, and every now and then he glances around at the mountains like he’s quietly appreciating them all over again.
You try not to stare, but the earlier feeling returns that strange sense of familiarity you can’t quite place. Maybe he just looks like someone you’ve seen on TV once.
“So,” he says after a few minutes, “how long are you staying in Switzerland?”
“Two weeks,” you reply. “We’re moving around a bit. A few days here, then another village further south.”
“Nice,” he says. “First time here?”
You nod.
“Yeah. My parents wanted something different this year. Usually, we go somewhere with a beach, but this time they decided we needed mountains.”
He glances toward the valley far below the trail.
“Well… this is definitely mountains.”
You laugh softly. “Yeah, I think we succeeded.”
Behind you, your parents and sister have fallen slightly behind again. Your dad keeps stopping to take photos of the scenery, and your mom is carefully navigating the uneven rocks.
Your sister calls out dramatically, “Why is everything uphill?!”
The stranger chuckles. “That’s kind of how mountains work.”
You grin. “Don’t tell her that. She’s still in denial.”
The trail curves around a large rocky outcrop, and suddenly the trees thin out again. This time the view is even more impressive. The forest drops away, revealing a wide valley filled with green slopes and tiny clusters of chalets that look like miniature houses from this height.
The sky above the mountains is an endless, bright blue.
You slow down without meaning to, taking it all in.
“Wow,” you breathe.
He stops too, glancing out over the view.
“Yeah,” he says quietly.
For a moment neither of you speaks. The wind moves across the mountainside, stronger up here, lifting strands of your hair and rustling the grass along the edge of the trail.
“You’re lucky,” you say after a moment.
He looks at you. “Why?”
“You grew up with this,” you say, gesturing toward the mountains around you. “Where I’m from everything is… flat.”
He smiles slightly.
“I’ve been to the Netherlands once.”
You blink in surprise.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Very flat,” he confirms.
You laugh.
“That’s the most accurate description of my country I’ve ever heard.”
Your family finally catches up to you both. Your dad immediately stops again to take more pictures.
“This view is incredible,” he says.
The stranger nods politely.
“It’s even better at the lake.”
Your sister groans.
“You mean we still have to climb more?”
He gestures toward the trail that continues upward along the ridge.
“Just a little.”
You lean closer to your sister.
“See? Official mountain expert says we’re almost there.”
She squints suspiciously at him.
“You’re not secretly leading us up another hour of hiking, right?”
He laughs.
“I promise. Not that far.”
The group starts walking again, though the pace is slower now because the path has become steeper. The ground is uneven, and occasionally you have to step over roots or climb small rocky sections of the trail. You notice the stranger instinctively slowing his pace slightly whenever the trail gets tricky, staying close enough that your family can follow easily. At one point your mom almost slips on a loose rock, but he quickly points out a safer step just ahead.
“Try that one,” he says.
“Thank you,” she replies gratefully.
You glance at him.
“You do this a lot, don’t you?”
“Hike?” he asks.
“Yeah. And guide lost tourists.”
“Only sometimes.” He smiles.
Another bend in the trail appears ahead, partially hidden behind a cluster of tall pine trees. The sound of water becomes faintly noticeable now.
You tilt your head slightly. “Is that the lake?”
“Almost,” he says.
Your sister immediately speeds up. “Finally!”
You follow just a few steps behind her, curiosity building with every step. The sound of water grows louder as you round the last curve in the trail. The lake appears suddenly, like something out of a postcard.
Crystal clear water stretches across a small mountain basin, reflecting the sky like a mirror. Snow-dusted peaks surround it on all sides, their reflections shimmering on the surface. Near the shore, smooth stones line the edge where the water gently laps against them. The whole place feels quiet and untouched, like a hidden secret in the mountains.
“Oh my god.” Your sister stops dead in her tracks.
Your dad lowers his camera slowly, clearly impressed. Your mom just stares at the water. You walk a few steps closer to the edge of the lake, completely amazed.
“This is… insane,” you whisper.
Beside you, the stranger smiles slightly as he watches your reaction.
“Told you it was worth it.”
You turn toward him with a grin.
“Okay, yeah. Best guide ever.”
He laughs softly.
As the sunlight sparkles across the clear alpine water, your family settles along the quiet shore of a hidden lake high in the mountains of Switzerland. Standing beside you is the friendly stranger who helped you find it.
The lake stays peaceful for a long time after you arrive. Your family spreads out along the rocky shoreline, settling down as if you’ve discovered a secret place meant only for you. Your dad immediately starts taking photos from every angle possible, crouching down by the water and walking along the edge to capture the mountains reflected on the surface. Your sister takes off her shoes and carefully dips her toes into the water, only to yelp loudly a second later.
“It’s freezing!” she shouts, hopping backward onto the rocks.
You laugh as she shakes her foot dramatically.
“Well, it is a mountain lake,” the stranger beside you says, clearly amused.
You glance at him, smiling.
“Did you ever actually swim in it?”
“Once,” he says. “Never again.” That makes you laugh harder.
The two of you sit down on a large flat rock near the shore, watching the sunlight shimmer across the surface of the water. The wind is a little stronger up here, moving across the lake in soft ripples that distort the perfect reflections of the peaks above.
Your parents are talking quietly a few meters away while unpacking sandwiches from their backpack. Your sister is still cautiously poking the lake with one foot like she’s testing its temperature again.
It’s calm and peaceful. Somehow it feels like you’ve known the guy sitting next to you longer than just a few hours.
“So,” he says after a moment, resting his arms on his knees. “What do you think of Switzerland so far?”
You glance around the lake again, taking in the mountains surrounding it like giant walls of stone and green.
“I think I’m going to be very disappointed when I go back home.”
He smiles slightly.
“That bad?”
“Well…” you say, shrugging. “Back in the Netherlands our biggest ‘nature adventure’ is biking through fields.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“True,” you admit. “But it’s not exactly this.”
He follows your gaze across the lake.
“No,” he agrees quietly.
Your family soon finishes eating, and after spending nearly an hour enjoying the view, the group eventually decides it’s time to hike back down before it gets too late. The walk down is easier and faster, and the conversations become lighter. Your sister spends half the time joking about the freezing lake, while your dad keeps stopping to point out different mountain peaks he recognizes from the map.
The stranger, who introduced himself earlier as Nico, walks near you most of the way down. At some point the trees grow thicker again, and the afternoon sunlight turns warmer as it filters through the forest.
When you finally reach the lower trails again, the paths begin splitting in different directions.
Your dad pulls out the map once more.
“Alright… which way now?”
Nico glances at it briefly.
“If you’re heading back toward the village, this trail will take you there faster,” he says, pointing toward a wider path.
“Perfect,” your dad replies.
You all start walking again, and after another twenty minutes the forest slowly opens into a small alpine village. Wooden chalets sit scattered across the hillside, their balconies overflowing with bright flowers. The air smells faintly like fresh bread and grilled food drifting from nearby restaurants.
Your sister immediately perks up.
“Okay, I’m starving now.”
“Same here.” Your mom laughs.
Your family slows near the small village square, looking around at the cozy restaurants and cafés lining the street. Wooden signs hang outside each one, and small outdoor terraces are filled with people enjoying the warm evening air.
Nico stops walking beside you, glancing toward one of the restaurants further down the street.
“My family’s actually meeting for dinner tonight,” he says. “At one of our favourite places here.”
You look at him curiously, “Oh?”
He hesitates for a moment, then adds, “If you guys don’t already have plans… you’re welcome to join us.”
You blink in surprise.
“Oh, we couldn’t—”
“It’s really no trouble,” he says quickly. “They won’t mind at all. And the food there is really good.”
Your parents exchange a quick look.
“Well… that’s a very kind offer,” your dad shrugs with a small smile.
Your sister grins immediately.
“Good food recommendation from a local? I’m definitely in.”
You elbow her lightly, but Nico just laughs. A few minutes later you’re walking down the village street together.
The restaurant he leads you to is beautiful—an old alpine building with dark wooden beams, warm lights glowing through the windows, and flower boxes overflowing with bright red geraniums. Soft music drifts out from inside as people sit at outdoor tables enjoying dinner.
“This place is amazing already,” your sister whispers.
Inside, the restaurant feels warm and lively. The scent of grilled meat, fresh bread, and herbs fills the air, and the low hum of conversations creates a cozy atmosphere.
Nico scans the room briefly before spotting a table toward the back.
“There they are.”
You follow his gaze. Four people are already sitting there: a man and woman who look like they could be his parents, and two others who immediately stand when they see him approaching. The guy looks almost identical to Nico, just slightly older, while the girl beside him has the same dark hair and bright smile.
“Nico!” his mom, Katja, says warmly as he reaches the table.
He leans down to hug her briefly.
“Hi, Mom.”
His dad, Rino, stands as well, shaking Nico’s hand before pulling him into a quick hug. Then Nico gestures toward you and your family.
“I met them hiking today,” he explains. “They’re visiting from the Netherlands.”
His parents greet your family kindly, clearly welcoming even though they hadn’t expected extra guests. But before anyone can fully sit down, the older guy, Luca, leans back in his chair and grins.
“Oh wow.”
Nico immediately sighs. “What?”
His brother gestures between you and Nico.
“You went hiking and came back with a whole group of people?”
The girl beside him laughs.
“That’s actually impressive.”
Nico rubs the back of his neck. “They got lost.”
“We did not get lost,” you protest, though you’re smiling.
His sister, Nina, tilts her head, studying you with clear amusement.
“So, you met him on the trail?”
“Yes,” you say.
She exchanges a look with her brother.
“Oh, this is great.”
“Don’t start.” Nico already knows what’s coming.
Luca grins wider.
“What? I’m just surprised.”
“Surprised about what?” your sister asks curiously.
“That Nico actually talked to strangers first,” Luca says.
You laugh, “He didn’t talk first. We almost walked into each other.”
Nina gasps dramatically.
“A meet-cute in the mountains.”
Nico groans, leaning back in his chair.
“Seriously?”
His siblings are clearly enjoying this far too much. His brother pats him on the shoulder.
“Hey, whatever works.”
You can’t stop laughing now, and even your parents are smiling at the playful teasing. Nico shakes his head, though you can see he’s trying not to laugh too.
“Please ignore them,” he says quietly to you.
You grin. “I don’t know… I think they’re pretty entertaining.”
Across the table, Nina leans toward you slightly.
“Trust me,” she says conspiratorially, “this is the most interesting story he’s brought home all summer.”
Nico immediately covers his face with one hand, and the entire table bursts into laughter while the warm lights of the restaurant glow softly around you in the evening air of Switzerland—the family from the Netherlands unexpectedly sharing dinner with the friendly stranger from the mountain trail and his teasing siblings.
The restaurant grows busier as the evening goes on. Warm golden lights hang from wooden beams across the ceiling, and the quiet sound of conversations blends with soft music playing somewhere near the bar. Outside the windows the sky has begun turning darker, the last light of sunset fading behind the tall mountains surrounding the village.
Your family and Nico’s family sit together around the long table, and what started as a slightly awkward introduction quickly turns into an easy, lively dinner.
Plates begin arriving one after another with fresh bread still warm from the oven, bowls of salad with herbs that smell like they were picked just minutes ago, and large plates of traditional alpine dishes. Melted cheese, roasted potatoes, grilled meats, and vegetables fill the table until there’s barely any space left.
Your sister stares at the food in awe.
“Okay,” she says quietly, “this might be the best dinner of the entire trip.”
Luca grins, “It probably is.”
Your dad raises his glass slightly toward Nico.
“Thanks again for inviting us.”
“No problem,” Nico replies easily.
The conversation slowly flows between both families. Your parents talk with his parents about travel, about the difference between life in Switzerland and the Netherlands, and about hiking trails and small villages in the region. Meanwhile, the younger group at the table drifts into their own conversations.
You find yourself talking mostly with Nico and his siblings. Luca leans back in his chair, clearly still amused by the situation.
“So, you literally just walked into each other?”
“Almost,” you say.
“Sounds like something out of a movie,” Nina adds with a playful smile.
Nico immediately shakes his head. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Sure.” Luca smirks.
You laugh, shaking your head.
“I promise it was very un-romantic. We almost collided on a narrow trail.”
“That’s still a meet-cute,” Nina insists.
Nico groans quietly while you and your sister laugh.
After the teasing settles down, the conversation becomes more relaxed. Nico asks about life back home about Dutch cities, cycling everywhere, and how flat everything really is.
“Seriously,” Luca says at one point, “there are no mountains at all?”
“None,” you confirm.
Your sister nods dramatically, “If you see a hill, people take pictures.” That makes everyone laugh again.
As dinner continues, the plates slowly empty and the table fills with glasses and crumbs of bread. The atmosphere in the restaurant becomes louder as more guests arrive, but your table feels strangely comfortable, like you’ve all known each other longer than just a few hours. At some point Nico’s dad glances at his watch.
“Well,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “It’s getting late.”
Your parents look at each other and your mom nods slightly.
“We were just thinking the same thing.”
Your sister groans dramatically, “Already?”
“You’ve been hiking all day.” Your dad chuckles.
Across the table Luca stretches slightly.
“Some of us still have energy.”
Nina nods in agreement. “Yeah, the night is still young.”
Your parents begin gathering their things from the table, and Nico’s parents do the same.
Your mom turns toward you.
“We’re going to head back to the hotel.”
You blink. “Already?”
“You can stay if you want,” she says casually. “Just don’t stay out too late.”
Your sister’s eyes immediately light up.
“Wait, really?”
Your dad shrugs with a small smile.
“You’re on vacation.”
Nico’s parents exchange an amused look.
“We’re heading home too,” his mom says to him and his siblings. “But you can stay in the village if you want.”
Luca grins immediately.
“Well… there’s a bar down the street.”
Your sister looks at you with excitement.
“Oh, we’re definitely staying.”
Within a few minutes the parents are saying their goodbyes. Handshakes and friendly smiles are exchanged, and both families promise that it was lovely meeting each other.
Your dad pats Nico on the shoulder before leaving.
“Thanks again for showing us the trail.”
“Of course,” Nico replies.
Soon the older group disappears out the restaurant door into the cool evening air. And just like that, it’s only the five of you left at the table.
For a moment there’s a quiet pause. Then Luca leans forward with a grin.
“So,” he says, looking between you and your sister, “who’s ready for that bar?”
Your sister immediately raises her hand. “Absolutely.”
His sister laughs. “Perfect.”
“You don’t have to come if you’re tired.” Nico glances at you.
You shake your head quickly, “No way. After today? I’m definitely not going back to the hotel yet.”
He smiles slightly at that.
The night air feels cooler once you step fully outside the restaurant. The warmth from inside fades quickly, replaced by the crisp mountain breeze that drifts through the narrow streets of the village. Overhead, the sky is already dark, but unlike back home in the Netherlands, the stars here are incredibly clear. Without the glow of big cities, the sky above the mountains seems endless, scattered with thousands of tiny lights.
For a moment the five of you just stand there on the cobblestone street. Soft music spills from one of the nearby bars, and the quiet murmur of people enjoying the evening drifts through the warm yellow light of streetlamps.
Luca stretches his arms above his head.
“Well,” he says, glancing down the street, “I vote we go there.”
He points toward a cozy-looking bar a little further along the road. It has a small terrace with wooden tables and strings of warm lights hanging above it. Laughter and music spill out every time the door opens.
“That looks perfect.” Your sister grins.
Nina nods in agreement, “Yeah, it’s a good place.”
You glance at Nico as you all start walking.
“So… does this kind of thing happen to you a lot?” you ask.
He looks at you, slightly confused.
“What do you mean?”
“Meeting random tourists on mountain trails and bringing them out for drinks later.”
Luca immediately laughs loudly from ahead of you.
“Oh definitely not.”
Nico sighs, “Thanks.”
You smile slightly.
“I’m just curious.”
He glances down the street before answering.
“Honestly? Today was… kind of random.”
“Good random or bad random?”
He looks at you again, a small smile forming.
“Good random.”
You feel your cheeks warm slightly but look away quickly as you reach the bar.
The place is lively but not overly crowded. Inside, the walls are decorated with old wooden skis, vintage photographs of the mountains, and shelves of local drinks. A few groups of people sit around tables laughing and talking while soft music plays in the background. You all grab a table near the window.
Your sister sits down first and looks around excitedly.
“This place is so cool.”
Luca nods, “It’s one of our favorites when we’re back home.”
A waiter comes over, and everyone orders drinks, simple ones, nothing too fancy. Soon glasses are placed on the table, reflecting the warm lights of the bar.
For a while the conversation stays light and easy. Nico’s siblings quickly pull both you and your sister into their conversations like you’ve known each other for years. They tell stories about growing up here in the mountains, about school, about ridiculous things Nico did when he was younger.
“You should hear the story about when he got lost during a hiking trip,” his brother says.
Nico immediately shakes his head.
“No.”
His sister is already laughing.
“Oh yes.”
Your sister leans forward excitedly.
“Please tell me.”
Nico rubs his face with one hand.
“This is going to be embarrassing.”
His brother ignores him “So he was like… twelve, and our parents thought he was hiking with friends—”
“I was not lost,” Nico interrupts.
“You absolutely were.”
Everyone laughs as the story unfolds, and by the end even Nico is smiling despite himself. You notice something during all of this though. Even while everyone is talking, Nico’s attention keeps drifting back toward you. Sometimes it’s just a quick glance when you laugh at something his siblings say, or when you’re telling a story about your trip through Switzerland so far.
At one point your sister gets pulled into a conversation with his siblings about places in the village to visit. Which leaves the two of you momentarily quieter.
You swirl your drink slightly and look over at him.
“So… earlier today you said you come back here in the summers,” you say.
“Yeah.”
“But you don’t live here all year?”
He shakes his head slightly.
“No. I spend most of the year somewhere else.”
“Where?”
He hesitates for half a second.
“In North America.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“That’s pretty far.”
“It is.”
“What do you do there?”
For a brief moment he looks like he’s deciding how to answer that. Before he can speak, his brother suddenly leans over the table dramatically. “Oh, here we go.”
“Don’t.” Nico immediately groans.
You look between them.
“What?”
Luca grins mischievously.
“You still haven’t told her?”
Nico gives him a warning look.
“Told me what?” you ask, confused.
Nina bites back a smile.
“You really don’t know, do you?”
Now you’re even more confused. “Know what?”
Nico leans back in his chair, clearly realizing there’s no stopping this now.
His brother points directly at him, “He plays hockey.”
“Okay?” You shrug slightly.
All three siblings stare at you.
Luca blinks, “…Okay?”
“Is that surprising?” You tilt your head.
Nina bursts out laughing.
“Oh my god.”
Nico just watches your reaction quietly.
“You play hockey in North America?” you ask.
“Yeah.”
“For a team?”
“Yeah.”
You think for a moment.
“Professional?”
He nods slightly.
Your eyes widen a little.
“Oh.”
There’s a pause. Then you say honestly, “I have no idea what that means.”
Luca nearly chokes on his drink. “You’re serious?”
You nod.
“I’m from the Netherlands. Hockey there means field hockey.”
That somehow makes the entire table laugh even harder.
Nico shakes his head, smiling now.
“Honestly… that’s kind of refreshing.”
You grin.
“Sorry to disappoint everyone.”
Nina wipes a tear of laughter from her eye.
“This might be the first time someone has no clue who he is.”
Nico lifts his drink slightly toward you. “Well… I like it.”
And as the laughter settles again, the five of you continue talking late into the night—just a group of new friends sharing drinks in a cozy village bar beneath the quiet mountains of Switzerland.
The night continues to stretch lazily around the bar. Warm lights, soft music, and the faint smell of wood smoke from the fireplace make the room feel cozy, almost like a hidden corner of the world. You sit across from Nico, laughing at something his sister just said, when you realize you’ve hardly noticed the time passing.
His siblings, on the other hand, are fully aware. There’s a subtle, mischievous gleam in both of their eyes whenever they glance at the two of you. Every so often, one of them nudges the other under the table or leans over to whisper something in a conspiratorial tone, obviously plotting something you haven’t figured out yet.
“You know,” Luca says casually, leaning back and pretending to look around the room, “it’s really nice that you two met today.”
You glance at him, trying to read his tone, but he just smiles innocently. Nico, meanwhile, raises an eyebrow and looks at you, clearly curious.
“You mean the trail?” you ask, smiling slightly.
“Exactly,” Nina chimes in, grinning. “Funny how a small bump on a narrow path can turn into… well… this.” She gestures vaguely between the two of you.
Nico lets out a small laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t know if I’d call it anything yet.”
“Oh, he’s playing it cool,” his brother says dramatically. “Typical.”
You glance at Nico, who smirks faintly, and you can’t help but laugh too. It’s not mocking just a quiet, easy smile that makes the air between you feel lighter.
The siblings clearly aren’t giving up. They start steering the conversation in ways that naturally bring the two of you together—asking Nico to explain parts of the trail you walked, having him help you choose a drink from the menu, and telling stories that highlight his quirks, his humour, his laugh… small things that make him seem more approachable, more human, and, frankly, impossible not to like.
“Remember when he slipped on that rock near the waterfall?” Nina says, leaning in conspiratorially. “I thought he was going to fall into the stream.”
“You didn’t,” Nico protests. “It was fine. I caught myself.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Sounds dramatic to me.”
“Exactly the point,” his brother says, winking. “He’s humble, but you see the real him when he’s not trying to be perfect.”
You notice Nico glancing at you more often now, the faint smile tugging at his lips whenever you laugh at something his siblings say. The teasing isn’t mean, it’s playful, a little nudge in your direction. It’s clear they’re working together, even though you haven’t fully realized it yet.
“You know,” Nico says quietly, leaning closer so only you can hear, “I think they enjoy this far more than I do.”
You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “Enjoy what?”
“The fact that they’re trying to get me to talk to you,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips.
You laugh softly, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest. “I… had no idea.”
He shrugs slightly, still smiling. “Apparently it’s a team effort.”
Nina suddenly leans back, pretending to be bored but clearly enjoying herself. “Team Cupid,” she whispers under her breath, nudging her brother and your sister.
Your sister snorts quietly. “Best job ever.”
The rest of the night continues in a similar rhythm. Nico’s siblings and your sister continue to subtly prod the two of you together—making jokes that force eye contact, telling stories that involve shared experiences from earlier in the day, or casually leaving gaps in the conversation so the two of you fill them together.
You notice how natural it feels. There’s no pressure, no awkward pauses, just easy conversation, laughter, and a quiet sense of connection that grows with every story, every glance, every smile.
When you finally step outside into the cool mountain air again, the bar behind you buzzing with music and chatter, you realize the siblings aren’t done—they’re walking slightly ahead of you, nudging Nico every so often, whispering things that make him laugh or roll his eyes.
And when he finally turns to you as you walk side by side down the quiet street, his smile is soft, a little shy, but completely real.
“You know,” he says quietly, “your family and my siblings, they’ve got way too much fun at my expense.”
You grin. “I think they’re just trying to make sure you and I actually talk.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “I think you’re right.”
The small village has grown quieter by the time you leave the bar. The music fades behind you as the door closes, replaced by the softer sounds of the night settling over the mountains—distant laughter from another terrace, the faint clink of glasses somewhere further down the street, and the cool breeze drifting through the narrow lanes between wooden chalets.
Above you, the sky is unbelievably clear. Back home in the Netherlands you rarely see stars like this. Here, high in the mountains of Switzerland, the sky stretches endlessly, scattered with bright constellations that feel close enough to reach.
For a moment the five of you just stand outside the bar, adjusting to the cooler air.
Your sister stretches dramatically.
“That was such a good night.”
Luca nods. “Agreed.”
Then, without warning, your sister suddenly grabs Nina’s arm and blurts out loudly “Okay wait—this whole day is insane!”
And the two of them immediately start talking over each other in pure excitement.
“I know!” Nina says, laughing. “You met him on a trail!”
“And then dinner with both families?!”
“And now we’re here!”
Your sister looks back at you and Nico, eyes wide.
“This is literally the most random vacation day ever.”
Luca chuckles beside them. “Honestly, yeah.”
The three of them keep chatting excitedly ahead of you, their voices animated as they walk down the softly lit street together. They’re not trying to be subtle about anything, they’re just genuinely amused by how strange and fun the day turned out.
You and Nico naturally fall a step behind them.
The village at night feels calm, almost peaceful compared to the lively bar you just left. Wooden balconies with flowers hang above the street, and warm yellow lamps cast soft light across the cobblestones.
You glance ahead at the others.
“They bonded really fast,” you say.
“Yeah,” Nico replies, smiling slightly. “My siblings do that.”
“My sister too, apparently.”
Up ahead, your sister is enthusiastically telling a story while Nico’s siblings laugh, the three of them clearly getting along like they’ve known each other longer than just a few hours.
You hear Nina say, “Wait, you have to come back in winter sometime.”
Your sister immediately responds, “Oh my god, imagine skiing here.”
You smile a little at that.
“They’re already planning future trips.”
Nico laughs softly.
“That sounds about right.”
For a few moments you and him walk quietly, the sound of your footsteps echoing lightly along the street. The breeze carries the scent of pine from the forests surrounding the village, and somewhere nearby you can hear a small stream running through the town.
“So,” you say after a moment, glancing at him, “do nights like this happen often for you here?”
“Not really,” he admits. “Usually, it’s just family dinners or quiet evenings.”
“And random hikers?”
He smiles slightly.
“That’s new.”
You laugh.
“I still can’t believe today happened.”
“Same.”
Up ahead, your sister suddenly turns around while walking backwards, still talking to Nico’s siblings.
“Hey, are you guys coming?”
“We are,” you call back.
She grins and turns forward again, continuing her conversation with them like nothing happened.
You look back at Nico.
“They’re definitely enjoying this.”
“Yeah,” he says. “But I think it’s just because today turned out unexpectedly fun.”
You nod, glancing up at the stars again.
“It really did.”
For a moment neither of you says anything, but the silence isn’t awkward, it’s comfortable, the kind that happens naturally after a long day filled with too many unexpected moments to count.
The group continues walking through the village for a while, following the quiet streets that curve gently between wooden chalets and small gardens full of late-summer flowers. The night air feels cool but comfortable after the warm atmosphere of the bar, and the mountains loom dark and peaceful beyond the glowing village lights.
Your sister and Nico’s siblings are still talking animatedly ahead of you, comparing stories about school, travel, and random vacation experiences. Every now and then you catch bits of their conversation drifting back toward you, followed by bursts of laughter, but after a few turns through the village, you reach a small square with several paths branching in different directions.
Nico’s brother slows down first.
“Alright,” he says, looking around. “We should probably head home before Mom texts us.”
His sister nods in agreement. “Yeah, it’s getting late.”
Your sister glances at you.
“Oh right, we’re supposed to go back too.”
You hadn’t even been thinking about the time. For a moment the group gathers under one of the streetlamps, the warm light casting soft shadows across the cobblestones.
“Well,” Luca says, smiling at you and your sister, “it was really nice meeting you both.”
“Yeah,” Nina adds warmly. “Today was fun.”
Your sister immediately hugs them both like she’s known them longer than a few hours.
“Same here!”
You laugh softly and say your goodbyes too. After a few moments, the siblings start heading off down a side street together, still chatting and joking with each other as they go. Your sister walks a few steps with them, then turns back toward you.
“I’ll go with them to the corner,” she says. “Our hotel is that way anyway.”
You raise an eyebrow slightly but nod, “Okay.”
She gives you a small knowing smile before jogging to catch up with them. And then suddenly, the street is quiet.
It’s just you and Nico standing under the warm glow of the streetlight. For a moment neither of you speaks. The village feels calmer now, the night deeper and quieter without the earlier laughter and conversations surrounding you. Somewhere in the distance, a faint bell rings from a church tower, marking the late hour.
You glance down the street where the others disappeared, then back at Nico.
“Well,” you say softly, “that was… a really good day.”
He nods slowly.
“Yeah. It was.”
The air between you feels different now quieter, but also a little more focused. Like the whole day has been building toward this calm moment.
You shift slightly, leaning one shoulder against the wooden railing beside the path.
“I’m glad we almost ran into each other on that trail,” you add.
He smiles at that. “Me too.”
There’s a pause. Just a moment where both of you seem to be thinking the same thing but not quite saying it yet. Nico takes a small step closer.
“I was wondering something,” he says quietly.
You look up at him.
“What?”
He hesitates for just a second, like he’s deciding whether to say it. Then he asks softly, “Would it be okay if I kissed you?”
Your heart does a small, surprised flip. For a moment you just look at him under the warm streetlight, the quiet village around you and the stars bright above the mountains. Then you smile.
“Yeah,” you say.
He moves a little closer, gently, like he’s making sure you’re still comfortable. One hand rests lightly near your arm, and when he leans in, the moment feels slow and calm instead of rushed.
The kiss is soft, and a little unexpected after such a long, random day. But it also feels right. When you both pull back slightly, you can’t help smiling.
“Okay,” you say quietly, half laughing. “That definitely wasn’t part of my vacation plan.”
He laughs softly too.
“Mine either.”
For a second you both just stand there, still close, the quiet street stretching around you.
Then he says, “I was also wondering… if you’d want to meet again tomorrow.”
You raise an eyebrow playfully.
“Another random hike?”
“Maybe something a little less accidental this time,” he says with a small smile. “There’s a really nice spot near the lake higher up in the valley. Or we could just walk around the village.”
You think about it for approximately half a second.
Nico went to a pride parade in NYC for the first time and loved it. He went with the 7 + reyna (all of the roman/California ppl thought it was worth the trip, just to support nico, cause you know... 40s.)
It was a big surprise as nico didn't even know it was on that day or what it even was. All he knew was that will (who planned everything and got everyone together) had surprise for him in the city.
When he got to the area he found everyone and was so shocked and happy. He missed hazel, reyna and everyone so much. When they explained what was happening today and the surprise nico didn't fully understand but was so happy.
Will had to tell him that the city puts it on yearly & stuff and that he wasn't in charge of all of it. Still, nico felt so loved.
He learnt a lot about queer history that he missed when he was in the lotus hotel. For the first time, he didnt feel scared to be himself. He was out & proud. Learnt that a bunch of his friends where also queer (percy & annabeth = bi. Reyna = ace. Piper = lesbian. Leo = pan. Jason [who's alive ok this an au or set before TOA] = gay man/achillian.)
He also talked to an elderly gay man & punk adult trans person. They had a really good heart to heart and he learnt a lot about different people's struggles & identities. It was really nice.
The 7 also had a big sleepover at camp just because if they were all going to make the effort to come here, it might as well be for a long time and not a short time.
Just before nico hits the hay he tells them all (but really will) how much he appreciates what they did for him today. He tells will he loves him before passing out.
He has his usual nightmares but there a lot more manageable with will & all his friends around.
I wanted to ask about your birds of a feather series.
Any timeline on the last chapter?
Love your work!
Hi my love! I am doing pretty good lately, actually! A nice patch in the bumpy road of life lmao. I hope you're doing good as well <3
Here is the final chapter in the series!(:
Birds of a Feather - Chapter Five: Mesmerized
Nico x Female Reader
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Word Count: 6.6k
Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)
Alcohol consumption, dirty talk, teasing, age gap, innocence kink, size kink, heavy petting, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected vaginal sex
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A/N: here is the final chapter! This series took me longer to finish than I originally thought, but I loved every second of it. I'm now accepting requests for one-shots in this au 🥰
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“Tape forty-five, June ninth… about nine o’clock.” Sighing, he stares dreamily. “My mornings have become disrupted, as of late. Early recordings have turned into… late night endeavors.” A long pause, and then he’s grinning. “I was right.” Nico proclaims, “She is quite soft… amenable.”
Shakily, you inhale a breath, one you’d been holding. Not out of timid fear, but of anxious excitement.
“What am I doing to you, Dove?” Nico then wonders aloud, directly addressing you. Slowly, his eyes glaze over your form, taking you in. And you gulp. He’s never done this before, any of this.
The hand he has on your waist gives you a soft squeeze, a gentle prompt.
“You’re,” Breath airy, your gaze continues forward, lips parting from the sight. “You’re touching me.”
“Mm,” Humming in agreement, he then requests more. “Dónde?” (Where)
“On my, my…” Watching his hands travel, the sensation shivers across your skin. “My stomach, my arms…”
Thick fingers travel upwards, unbuttoning your light blue blouse. Elegantly, your shirt falls open, revealing the white lace underneath. And with a happy hum, your lover’s hand then turns, running his knuckles lightly over your sternum; the sensation so feather-light that it makes you quiver. Moving to your shoulders, he tugs the loose fabric down with slow and careful motions, pressing a kiss to your upper back when it drops to the floor.
“And now?”
His continuation forces an excited sigh from your lips as you answer with, “My chest.”
Smiling happily, he allows both broad palms to cup you, admiring what he sees in the reflection. And you’re doing the same. Neither your eyes nor his have left this mirror, this sight.
“And how soft it is…” He mumbles to himself, turning his head and lowering himself slightly. His stubble brushes over your side, prompting a giggle to bubble from your lips as he gives your waist a small kiss. “Tan suave y bonita.” (So soft and pretty)
His legs are spread widely as he sits on the edge of his bed, your standing form set between them. And while you’re the one standing, he’s still taller than you like this, fully able to rub himself against your backside. And when you feel it, his rapidly hardening erection, your heart leaps from your chest.
Moving to the waistband of your skirt, his fingers dip beneath the hem, pulling it off of your body languidly. In the mirror, you watch him, your breaths shallow and a bit quick. With every touch to your skin, a piece of you feels exhilarated, your limbs shaking with anticipation, your center dampening from the excitement of it.
“Is the rest of you pretty, Dove?”
Dove and Little Bird. Names for you, only you.
“Yes.” It comes out before you can stop it, almost eager to show him. And he chuckles from behind.
“I know it is.” Pushing your skirt the rest of the way down, he’s finally able to see your matching set, your delicate white lace. And it takes his breath away.
“Oh…” Running his hands down your sides, he moans, eyelids drooping as he presses a heated kiss to your skin.
Curious fingers squeeze at the thin skin of your hips, working their way back to massage them into your beautiful curves.
“Tell me,” Nico suddenly huffs out, voice desperate and raspy. “Describe it to me, everything you see. Let me listen to your beautiful voice on this tape.”
For a moment, you’d completely forgotten about the tape. And the thought of him playing it back while touching himself in private is something that makes you feel weak. Because you know that’s exactly what he’s going to do.
“You’re touching me,” You say again, voice timid and throat going dry. “Holding my hips, kissing my back…”
Quietly, he groans in approval, hands sliding up to cup your breasts again. The pads of his thumbs then seek out your nipples, brushing back and forth over the soft peaks until they harden beneath his thickest digits.
“You’re touching my nipples…” Feeling you relax into him, he sighs, the movement felt against your lower back. “Feels good when you, w-when you do that…”
With a passionate groan, he presses himself against you, one hand trailing up while the other dips low. His right stays on your breast, squeezing it firmly in his hand, while the other lowers to cup your barely covered sex. Another wet kiss to your skin, a hot sigh forced out of his nose as he does it. And you suck in harshly when he cups you, hips twitching in his hold as he fondles your body, does whatever he wants to it.
“Let me see you,” Murmuring over your skin, he finally brings himself to remove the last pieces of clothing still hiding your body from him. “Delicate thing.”
He’s careful with it, not wanting to tear the thin fabric. On another day, another night, he’ll tell you to wear it again. Easily, he removes your top, unclipping it from behind. And before he can even make his way to your bottom half, his eyes are widening, face falling slack.
“Irresistible…” Leaning up, he moves your arm over his head, allowing your body to turn as it rests across his shoulders and the back of his neck. The movement prompts your body to fall back, perching yourself on his thigh as he leans in. Wrapping both arms around you, he brings your body in, kissing the soft skin of your breasts. “Mm.”
“Nicolás,” Quivering slightly, your free hand finds his cheek, leaning into his loving grip.
“What is it, cariño?” (Sweetheart)
“I love this…” And it’s true, you’re entranced by him.
Eyes rolling back, he groans once again, deep and guttural as his fingers all but fly to your panties. Quickly, he shoves them down your legs before repositioning you, pulling you directly into the center of his lap. Immediately, you’re pressed against the firmness of his crotch, your naked backside rubbing over him.
“This is what I’ve wanted,” He nearly seethes into your ear, curved nose pressing into your cheek.
Fully resting against the broadness of him, you whine, feeling more exposed than ever in front of him. He’s never seen you like this, never witnessed you in your bare form. And while your timid nature keeps you quiet, his own curious kinks are doing the exact opposite to him.
“Inocente,” He sounds distracted, those big, brown eyes watching his own hands as they move. (Innocent)
Slithering down, they find your thighs, quickly moving to their inner skin. With gentle force, he parts them, the two of you staring at the mirror once again. You assume he’s going to merely open them, spread them just enough to see your pussy. But no, that’s just not good enough for him.
“Pretty…” Once your thighs are no longer touching, he hooks his hands beneath them, pulling them up and back so that they’re resting over his. The action shocks you so much that you nearly shriek, feeling him move you so easily. And you’ve never participated in a more brazen act in your entire life, and the whole scenario has your chest heaving. You’re light-headed, dizzy, relying entirely on your senses to keep you grounded.
“That sweet pussy…” Bringing his hands back in, they cup the soft skin of your inner thighs as he grins. “Is it mine, Dove?” And then, he’s whispering into your ear, lips brushing just over the shell. “Do you want it to be mine?”
“Nicolás,” Chest rising with desperate breaths, you can barely bring yourself to look at your reflection. “Yes, I, please t-touch…”
“Oh,” An enticed smirk curls devilishly on his lips, whispering, “Tell me, Dove. Use those dirty words with me.”
“Please touch me.”
Begging for his attention honestly isn’t new to you, but doing so with your legs completely spread for him is a different story. There’s nowhere to hide, he can see every bit of you. You’ve never been more exposed, and you’ve never been more full of excitement.
Two fingers find their way to your sex, slowly and carefully exploring your body. His pointer and middle digits find your lips, parting them to reveal your reddened clit.
“Háblame,” He whispers lovingly into your ear, soft lips pressing to your cheek. (Talk to me)
“W-what, what do you want me to say?” Your lungs can’t seem to sustain your body, eyes glued to the space between your legs. And Nico is no better.
“Anything going on in that beautiful little mind.” He’s breathless, fingers rubbing your labia carefully, firmly.
“I can feel you,” Blurting out the first words that come into your brain seem to make him happy, feeling him grin. “I can feel you beneath me, feel how… hard you are for me.”
“Oh, and I am, Dove. I am so entranced by you…”
Lifting his hand, your head turns, eyes following his movements. Opening his mouth, he swipes his fingers over his tongue before lowering them again, rubbing them into your sex.
“You’re wet…” Again, he parts your lips, fingertip dancing over your clit. It makes you breathless, the way he speaks to you, the way he touches you and treats you. He’s had you in his perfect grip for so long, and now, you finally, finally have him.
The moment is gentle as the two of you almost pause, staring at your spread sex. But then, a shrill gasp, jaw dropping completely as he fully sinks his first digit in.
“Nicolás.”
Naturally, your legs move to close, muscles twitching against him. But he’s on you in an instant, shushing you with gentle noises as he forces your legs apart with his one hand.
“Look,” He offers gently, nodding in the direction of the mirror. “Mira.”(Look)
Doing as he says, you turn your head, witnessing the sight of his finger buried between your legs. Your wetness leaks onto him, your level of arousal an embarrassing sight that flushes your face and neck. And it reminds you of the first time he did it, only a few weeks ago on his kitchen counter…
Lifting his brows slightly, he’s pleased by how easily his finger is able to glide inside. And the way you release such a high moan, the way your fingers curl around his neck to pull him close, makes his heart beat for you from deep inside his chest. Agreeably, he moves closer to you, letting you pull him in.
“Nico,” You whisper, resting your forehead on him.
“Mi princesa,” It comes out of him naturally, his free hand remaining on your back to hold you against him. (My princess)
The thickness of his finger doesn’t compare to yours, it’s not even close. And there’s much more strength in his hands than you’d expected him to have, as well, evidenced by the firm drag of his digit out of your sex before he returns it to your very core.
“Yes,” You whine into his shoulder, your breathing becoming labored against him.
And it’s no different now. He hasn’t touched you in this way since that night, the adrenaline rushing back into your veins like a wild stream finding the sea. There have been gentle touches, wonderful kisses, repeated meetings where you’ve shown him the intimate garments resting just above your skin. But it seems he’s had enough of those incidents. He doesn’t want any more teasing.
With impatience, he pumps his finger into you, hot breaths fanning across your neck as his wet mouth drags over your skin. He can feel the way your walls squeeze him, fluttering around his finger as it repeatedly enters you, spreading you open for him. Lazily, your head falls back, resting on his shoulder while your eyes close. Bliss swims through your system, hips already shifting up toward his touch.
“Mírame,” He then demands, voice growing deep. And by now, the two of you have completely forgotten about that tape. “Watch me touch you.” (Watch me)
Nudging his shoulder, he forces your head up, droopy lids watching him. The mirror is large, decorated in gold plating around the edges. It sits on the floor, resting back against the wall as it creates the perfect image for him.
This decision came easily for the two of you, the tension rising thick and heavy in each and every room. It wasn’t enough to grope the other over their clothes, to claim their mouths with your lips and tongue. You needed more, you both did.
“Cosa perfecta,” He grumbles deeply, words quick and breath hot. “Hecho para mí.” (Perfect thing, made for me)
Reaching back, you wrap your hand around his neck, needing to touch him, cling to him. You wish so fervently that you were facing him. What you crave most when he touches you is his mouth, his taste.
“Nico,” Whining, you turn your head, lifting your chin as you try to reach him. “Bésame.” (Kiss me)
Disregarding your plea, he murmurs to himself, “Let me taste.”
Sliding his finger from your weeping sex, he brings the digit directly to his mouth, lips parting to take it in. He swallows it entirely, sucking sloppily on the sweetness coating it.
“So wet for me… dirty girl, letting me taste it…”
“Nico…”
And then he’s returning with two, shoving them inside and listening to that erotic squish. It’s louder than before, your body reacting so openly to him. The forceful drag of him against your insides has your hips swaying, your legs and stomach tensing.
“It feels good, no?” His voice is so deep and raspy, so sexy. “It’d feel better if it were me.”
You’ve yet to discuss sex, you haven’t even made it past second base yet… technically. But Nico’s intent on pushing those boundaries tonight.
Quicker than before, he removes them again, eyes glued to the shine of them. Vehemently, he sucks them inside, tasting your warm wetness. You can see him in the mirror, his eyes closing in bliss, the soft sounds of his mouth right beside your ear.
“So warm,” That gruff voice rumbles, gasping. “So sweet on my fingers, little one.”
Shuddering against his still covered form, you sigh, feeling goosebumps tingle your skin. He’s still holding you up, sitting upright and supporting you against his chest. The strength Nicolás possesses continues to surprise you.
“Oh…” Contemplating his next words, he decides on, “I’d like a taste.”
Kissing the shell of your ear, he listens to your confused hum. You thought that’s what he’d been doing?
“Just a lick.” He mumbles, pulling his fingers out to rub them over your clit.
Before you can even think to respond, his hands are on your hips, pushing you gently, yet firmly, onto your feet.
“Oh,” Spinning you around to face him, he then drops to his knees. “Nico?”
Your voice is quiet, hands shaking as they reach for his shoulders. Immediately, he’s angling his head upward, left hand cupping the underneath of your thigh and lifting it above it shoulder.
“Baby…”
It’s the closest he’s ever been to your bare sex, the only time he’s ever brought his face to it. And he all but dives in. Feeling your fingers shoot up to his hair, they curl in the thick locks, his lips now sucking yours in. It shocks you, the mere sensation of it, his soft mouth enveloping the space between your legs. He moans into you, the shockwaves vibrating through your center and out through your hips, now twitching in his grasp. Poking his tongue out, he swipes it through your folds, tasting you from the source.
“Oh, amor.” Groaning, the hand on your thigh slides around, palming your ass almost painfully so. (Love)
“N-Nicolás.”
Lifting himself slightly, he attaches his lips to your reddened nub, those baby browns rising to look at you. And just as he’d suspected, you’re looking right back at him. It prompts a shiver to run through your core, lips parting as you witness him in this position. And while holding your gaze, he licks into you again, repeatedly, sensually.
The feeling of this is otherworldly, you’ve never had a man’s mouth here before. You’ve never had a man’s mouth in general before. Timidly, you rock your hips with him, feeling those thick fingers run up and down the length of your thighs while he begins to close his eyes. That arched nose rubs deliciously over your clit while his tongue explores your insides, taste buds washed with your slick. Your face, your neck and chest, your entire body is flush with heat and arousal. A burning desire for him. It’s just so brazen and something you’re not at all used to. But that’s not to say you aren’t enjoying it.
Muffled noises continue to spill from Nico’s mouth, his heated breaths and stiff scruff brushing against the insides of your thighs. And your own noises begin to fill the air, small whines and breathy gasps, low moans you’d never imagined coming from your throat. But he’s reveling in it, giving you all of this for the first time. He’ll be your first, for everything, and maybe even your last.
“Amor,” He repeats, his voice dulled from the sweet flesh of your sex and thighs. “Cum for me.” (Love)
“Nico, I don’t, I…”
“You can,” He interrupts, urging your hips to sit further on his face. “You can.”
He’s pawing at you with those warm and broad hands, touching every part of you that he can. And he grins when your hands fully wrap around the back of his head, your jaw dropping entirely as you wantonly gasp.
Excitement rushes through your veins, your limbs feeling jittery as he lifts you up through this euphoric plane. You’re wondering if you can actually do this, fully give into the feeling while standing like this. But with the way he’s holding you up, you think you’ll be able to if you lean into him…
“Nicolás,” A shrill whine leaves your lips, brows folding up in the center as the feeling consumes your senses.
Dramatically, he moans, eyes closed as it rushes across his tongue. Your arousal drips into his open and waiting mouth, his fervent tongue eager to lap it up. You’re everything he thought you would be. Sweet.
“Mi niña hermosa,” He’s gasping, too, face shiny from you. “Perfecta niña.” (My beautiful girl, perfect girl)
“B-Baby,” Shaking, you lean over him, reaching for the bed.
He can feel the way your legs tremble around his head as he turns to kiss your soft skin, hands still holding onto you dearly. But while Nico is currently portraying himself to be kind, he quickly switches back to demanding.
“Touch me,” He orders breathlessly, crawling out from the space between your legs.
Standing, he pushes you back against the bed, both of you still standing upright. Eagerly, he grabs your face, keeping you in place for him while he seeks out your mouth. His kisses are sloppy and wet, a combination of his saliva and you.
“Touch me, little bird.” His voice is ragged, and he swallows before he again speaks. Reaching toward your hand, he brings it to his crotch, your heart skipping inside your chest. “Put those tiny hands on me.”
“Nicolás…” You say his name so sweetly, so softly, it must be a prayer. A word you’ve known your entire life and been destined to speak into the air.
Your hand falls to his hardened crotch, your lover’s mouth worshiping your own as you palm him with hesitancy. His hand finds your back, supporting you while the other paws at your chest. He’s panting against you, tongue swiping over your bottom lip to turn your kisses filthy.
“Undo it,” Nico mumbles over your mouth, feeling your finger drag over his belt.
Nodding, you manage your way through the buckle and loops, all without looking down or removing your lips from his. He’s insistent, mouth molding to your own like you’re his to take, his to own.
“That’s it…” Nodding, he stares into your eyes. “Now, unzip it.”
You’d like to keep his gaze but find yourself falling forward, asking for more of him. And he complies, feeling your hands continue to do as he says. Once his zipper is down, you take in a strong and steadying breath, reaching into his pants.
“Yes,” Eyes rolling back, he huffs out a heavy breath. “Now, inside. Inside my boxers, pequeña.” He’s shaking, more than ready for you to feel him. (Little one)
“Baby,” Surprisingly, you find him without question, without hesitation. Reaching into his boxers, you grab onto him, lips parting at the thickness of his erection.
“You like?” He asks with a smirk, kissing your cheek.
“I want to see.” Whispering, you grin, glancing down at where he must be.
“On the bed, bonita. Let me take you on the bed.” (Pretty)
Sitting back, you scooch onto his bedding, watching with bated breath. Easily, he slides his trousers down, along with his boxers in one shove. And what you see is breathtaking. His uncut length bobbing slightly in front of you, a thin patch of brown, curly hairs scattering his base. He’s red, so fucking red, and shining from the amount he’s been leaking.
Lifting his shirt, you’re able to see his softened belly, his broad and tanned chest. His arms are sculpted, biceps clearly visible and rounded. And altogether, it’s a beautiful sight, the man that he is.
“Stay.” He orders tenderly, rounding the bed.
At first you’re curious, feeling him climb on behind you. But then you’re looking forward, watching his frame settle right up against you. His chin lowers, resting on your shoulder, before turning his head to kiss you.
“I want you…”
“I want you, Nico.” Nodding, you answer embarrassingly fast, prompting a brief chuckle from him.
Flustered isn’t even the right word, you’re something else entirely when you feel his fingers on your sex again. He rubs your lips with them, watching in the mirror as your plush lips part with a gasp.
“I will take you, sweet Dove. Right here… and here is where you will sleep, yes?”
“Really?” Your heart beats profoundly in your chest. This is all you’ve ever wanted.
“Yes.” He nods, rubbing himself into your backside from behind. His hips are slow as he ruts against you, slow and soft. “From now on, this is where you will lay,” And then, he’s positioning himself at your entrance, bulbous head already parting your lips. “With me.”
A sharp gasp, almost a shriek, hits the air as he pushes in, a crying whine then forming on your lips. He shushes you kindly, arms looping around your midsection to hold him close to your warm body. It hurts, stings, and the feeling of fullness doesn’t even remotely resemble what you’re feeling.
“Sh…” He coos, trying desperately to keep his composure. The fact that he’s taking your virginity is making his body shake with arousal. “Do you want me to stop, sweet thing?” Nico then questions, about halfway in.
Shaking your head, you insist he not only stay, but continue. And he does, turning your head so he can kiss you, distract you, from the pain until it melts into pleasure. And that’s exactly what happens as he slides further inside, a shuddering breath echoing into his mouth as he fills you to the brim. When his hips finally meet your backside, settling into the curve of his pelvis, he groans, growls, against your lips.
“Mm,” Whimpering, you rest your forehead against him, gasping for air as he holds your cheek, whispering sweet nothings.
“Beautiful girl, my wonderful thing.” Shaking his head gently, he sighs, closing his eyes. “How does it feel?”
“I,” Chest heaving, you respond with, “I want more.”
And he doesn’t hesitate. He honestly isn’t surprised, he assumed you would. What the two of you have is natural, chemical, you’re both unable to stay away. And that electric zap of passion only grows as he retracts his body, only about halfway before plunging back into your core. His pace becomes languid, thickness dragging against your walls while he listens to your girlish squeaks and tiny pleas. One hand stays wrapped around your waist, and it’s here that you hold onto him, trying to ground yourself in some way.
“Look,” Nico murmurs into your ear, nodding in the direction of the mirror.
The reflection allows you to see yourself in your entirety, body being held up by him, slightly rocked as he fucks himself into you. It washes your entire being with excitement and ecstasy, one hand reaching around to comb through his hair.
“Nico…”
“It feels good, no?”
“Yes.”
For some reason you hadn’t expected him to be so vocal, to exude so many grunts and groans while experiencing you in this way. But he does, releasing his sounds of passion openly as he repeatedly claims you, desecrating your virgin cunt with his own, twisted sense of righteousness. And he growls while he does it, taking what is his.
Grinning, your breath leaves you as you say, “You like to watch, don’t you?”
Now this does surprise him, you earning the nerve to tease. Deep, dark orbs meet yours in the mirror, a sinister smirk finding place on his lips.
“You know I do.” His voice is low, a tone you’ve yet to hear from him. “I’d do anything to see you topless again by the pool. Filthy girl, touching yourself, out in the open for anyone to see…”
“I wanted you to see.”
“Mierda.” It’s immediate, the words seethed through those plump lips. “You’re going to make this too quick, little thing.” (Fuck)
“I don’t care,” Shaking your head, you can already feel your body going limp, limbs exhausted from this much adrenaline. “I want it.”
“You want my cum?” He asks, genuinely clarifying. He also wants to hear you say it.
“Yes, I do.”
“Then tell me. Say it to me.” By now, his hips are slapping against your backside, diving deep and punching against the brightest spot of your insides.
“Nico,” Whining, you swallow, trying to work up the nerve. “I want your cum.”
“Ngh,” Forcefully, he grunts, holding onto you tightly. “I will cum, pequeña, right inside your precious cunt. Mi preciosa niña, I will make it mine.” (My precious girl)
Words float from your mind as he declares this right, his length throbbing inside. He’s enjoying you thoroughly, body finally giving in to the ecstasy you bring. It floods from him easily, freely, his spend into your center. It coats your walls, the stickiness of his cum clinging to your inner skin. It’s warm, he’s warm, and he grinds into you as it happens. Nico’s entire body shudders, both arms securing to your midsection and hugging you tightly to him. And you let him, turning your head to kiss his scruffy cheek while his mouth hangs open, moans floating freely from him.
“Amor,” Sweetly, you grin, pressing yourself back into him. (Love)
“Amor,” He instantly returns, moving to capture your lips in the most passionate kiss. “Mi amor.” (Love, My love)
*
*
*
“Tape forty-six, June tenth. It is exactly eight o’clock in the morning, though I’ve been up for some time. Lately, my body has risen with the sun, awaiting the day’s arrival with eager impatience. It is to see her, I have no doubt.”
Even now, he wants to hurry this along. He has breakfast with you.
“She is quite the clever thing.” He looks down at his fidgeting hands, smiling. “Helping to compose my symphonies. She provokes feeling within me, incredible bouts of passion filling my soul. And to have her in my music room, to have her with me… her presence both calms and excites me.”
Last week, he’d invited you into his artistic space for the very first time, insisting upon it, actually. He wanted you to see where he creates, admitting that the thought of you has been filling this space.
“She has accepted me… wholeheartedly.” Even after the emotional roller coaster he’s put you through, you feel for him, still. You truly do. “What a radiant beam of light.”
Downstairs, he can hear you, dishes clanking lightly in the kitchen as you prepare your morning meal. He wonders what you’re making today. Possibly fruit-filled oatmeal? Or maybe toast with eggs? One day you’d even prepared a charcuterie board for him, maybe you’ll do that again. And while your continuation of duties has made him feel… strange, he’s made sure to express this change to you, now that you’ve slept in his bed. You’re his, you’re no longer here to serve him.
Wandering downstairs, he decides it’s time to see you. He can smell meat cooking, likely bacon. And just as his feet hit the bottom step, the sound of the toaster’s timer goes off, and he can hear you cutting something.
“Amor?” He calls softly to you, and even though he hasn’t said it to you yet, that’s what you are to him. His love.
“Buenos días, hermoso.” You return kindly, easily, looking up at him from the cutting board. (Good morning, beautiful)
Your compliment influences the rosy color on his cheeks. Strolling over to you, he asks what you’re making, moving to stand behind you. The two of you have grown rather comfortable with each other, so much so that he wraps his arms around your midsection, resting his chin on your shoulder, too.
“Breakfast BLT’s.” You respond, smiling giddily. It feels so good to have him this close, to feel his warm body against you, holding you. Especially after being so close with him last night.
“Interesting,” He notes, kissing your cheek before walking to the table. “You’ve never made that before.”
“Do you not like it?” Worried, you turn to him, stopping your actions. You’d been cutting the lettuce.
But he only grins, sitting down at the table while admiring you. “I very much do.”
In all truth, he’s never had this type of sandwich for breakfast before. But you're making it, so of course he likes it. After all, you’d put so much time and effort in curating this meal, how could he not enjoy it?
“It’ll be ready soon, maybe another five minutes or so.”
“Take your time, bonita.” Nicolás sighs, folding open the newspaper you’d set out for him. Grabbing his reading glasses from his jacket pocket, he props them on the bridge of his nose. “We have nothing but time.” (Pretty)
With a giddy smirk, you return to your previous actions, grabbing the bread from the toaster as you begin to compose the sandwiches. Your gentle hum prompts a smirk on your lover’s face, eyes glancing up from his paper to watch you. He’s in love, he can no longer deny it. And he hasn’t since that night, the night he brought you to your first high. From that day on, he’s been openly affectionate, sweet and kind, praising you endlessly while giving you firm hugs and gentle kisses on your cheeks. He’d gotten into the habit of giving you goodnight kisses, too, before your first night in bed together.
“All done!” With a smile on your face, you bring Nico his food, setting both plates before him on the table.
“Gracias, hermosa.” Happily, he welcomes you, your small frame perching on his lap. (Thank you, beautiful)
Those wonderfully soft lips press to your skin, your cheek plump from your grin. “How did you sleep?”
“In truth?” He asks, taking a tip from his glass. You’d squeezed the oranges yourself. “Better than I have in a long time.” Looping an arm around your midsection, he holds you against him, nose brushing over your neck. “A long time.”
After he’d taken you the previous night, he cared for you. Cleaning you, kissing you, clothing you. It’s as though you were the most fragile thing, a delicate doll and all his to care for. And when you were both clean and cozy, he held you, pulling you into his chest with his arms encircling your body. Your breaths are what lulled him to sleep, his soft snores doing the same for you. His scent filled your being, his body a warm and welcoming embrace as you drifted off to sleep. And waking beside him was even better, watching the sun rise over his sleeping face.
“Oh, my love,” He sighs, taking his first bite.“Increíble.” (Incredible)
“Really?” Pleasantly surprised, you thrive from his praise. Even before you became overtly affectionate, his compliments were always important to you.
“Absolutely. You are a better cook than me!”
“Well, it doesn’t take much to accomplish that.” You grin, taking a bite of your own.
Admiring you from the side, he watches you eat, relaxing in peace. The presence of your weight against him is calming, something he’d appreciate even in his sleep.
“How did you sleep?”
“Really well,” A timid smile washes over your face, shy eyes glancing down at your plate. “I loved the way you held me.”
“Hm,” He purrs, almost too enthusiastically. “Would you like me to do it again tonight?” Whispering into your ear, he can practically feel the goosebumps crawling along your skin.
“Yes, please.”
Purring pleasantly, he rubs your back, thinking of spending another night with you again. He hopes to spend many more by your side. He also hopes you’re aware of that.
“What are you wearing tonight?” He wonders aloud, eager for his newest home gallery.
“I have a long gown, a lilac color.”
“And shoes?”
“White heels.”
“Heels?” He responds, raising his brows. “I’d love to see those on you.”
“Well, you will tonight, hermoso.” With a sweet smile, you press your lips to his cheek, standing from your seat. (Beautiful)
And while you may appear collected, you’re dying on the inside. Tonight will be the first time you’re introduced to his friends as more than a mere maid, a guest in his home. Nico has found quite a sense of pride when it comes to you. What was once cowardice, has now thrived into a full and blossoming love. He no longer has reservations with you.
*
*
*
The atmosphere is thick with ideas, with existential realism and artistic technique. When you were considered a maid, you had little to no worries about meeting his friends. They had no effect on you. But now? They have every effect on you. What happens if they don’t like you? Will it affect your relationship with Nicolás? Will he no longer see you the same?
Smoothing your hands over your dress, you take in your appearance back in your own room again. The silk material fits nicely along your body, and feels so soft against your skin. A small string ties the neckline together, resting just above your cleavage. And the hem of it reaches just past your knees. It’s a simple gown, but your heels dress it up a bit. Glossy and dazzling and brand new, the white of them shining on your feet. At least you know he’ll be happy with what you chose.
Tiptoeing down the stairs, you gather yourself with each step, listening to the crowd mingling on the first floor. And amongst them, you can hear your love, discussing something about politics. Something you’re far less than interested in.
And so, your first excuse to sneak off to the kitchen. Immediately though, murmurs and eyes follow you. The people that had been here and seen you before have never seen so much skin on you. And you’re unsure if they’re taking it well.
Reaching for the nearest bottle of wine, you grab yourself a glass, making yourself comfortable in the breakfast nook in the corner of the kitchen. Luckily, only a few people are in here, and just to pick at the charcuterie boards that had been prepared and put out for them by the chef. And while they look more than appetizing, you’d rather hide in the corner here.
“Dear?” A woman approaches, to your dismay. “I need my glass filled, please.”
“Oh, I’m not, um, I’m not in charge of those services tonight.”
“Of course you are,” She nearly laughs, “You’re the maid; I’ve met you before, darling.”
All at once, you’re wishing you’d never even come down here. What are you supposed to say to that? Nope, I’m no longer the maid. I’m fucking him now.
“Um, let me… I’ll go find Nico.” Feigning a polite smile, you scoot away, watching her face twist in either disgust or confusion. Probably both.
Bringing your liquid courage with you, your steps eventually find him, the man of the hour. Usually, you’d be glancing at every piece of art you could get your eyes on - they were always spectacular sights. But right now, you’re hurrying your way through the crowd, following the sound of his voice, which is still discussing something political.
While walking up to him, you’re reminded of the man that he is. The way he stands is tall, proud, his smile broad as he speaks to his colleagues and friends. He holds quite the influence over this crowd, due to his intelligence and expertise. What a magnificent man, you think to yourself, smiling. You’ve never met someone with so much depth.
“Ah,” He then says, turning in your direction. You assumed he couldn’t see you yet. “My little bird.” His eyes rake over your form, turning hungry. He can’t wait to tear that from your body tonight.
“Hi,” Bashfully, you give him a little wave walking up to his side.
“Gentleman,” Nico grins, arm reaching to you. “This is my dove.”
Smiling politely, they nod, unsure of this new introduction. “Your… maid, Nicolás?”
“My love,” He corrects, a sweet smile remaining on his face. Wrapping his arm around your lower back, he hugs you to his side, kissing your head. “No longer in my service.”
“You’re romantically involved?” A colleague clarifies, brows raising.
“We are.” Comes his simple response, guiding you over to an armchair that he chooses as his seat. Both hands then find your hips, bringing you down to him.
“She’s… this is…”
“New.” A friend finishes, eyeing you. “Excuse us, Nico.”
Nodding, he brushes their surprised responses off, looking at you with such adoration in his eyes. His hand gently pets at your side, those soft lips leaning in to kiss your cheek.
“You look stunning tonight.”
“You really think so?” Grinning bashfully, you look down, curling in on yourself.
“Of course, I do. With your makeup done, donning your hair so prettily… wearing clothes so sheer I can see your nipples…” Clearly, he’s becoming lost in thought as his eyes drift down.
“You, you can?!” Eyes zipping down, you stare in shock. How had you not noticed that?!
“Yes,” He hums, grinning happily. “I love it.” And he wants to lift his hand, brush it across your chest and watch the perkiness of your tits harden beneath his touch. But his surrounding guests keep him from doing it.
“Are you, you’re not upset?”
Frowning, he looks into your eyes, deep concern showing. “Why would I be?”
“Your friends… they don’t seem to like me.” Laughing nervously, your eyes avoid him, worried of what he might be thinking.
“Amor,” Fingers on your chin direct you back to him. “I like you.” He emphasizes, and then words are spoken that you’d never expected to hear. “I love you.”
“Nicolás,” Reaching up to cup his face, you breathe out a timid smile, staring at him. “I love you.” And for the first time, you’re truly starting to picture this as your new life.
The first time Nico Hischier realised he might lose you, it wasn’t on the ice or under bright arena lights or during some dramatic, life-altering moment. It was on a quiet summer evening in Switzerland, the kind that smelled like fresh grass and lake water, where everything felt slow and endless until suddenly it didn’t.
You had always been there. From scraped knees in Naters to late-night walks and inside jokes no one else understood. You were just… you. His constant. His safest place. The one person who never changed, even when everything else in his life did.
Which was exactly why he never questioned it. Until Paul Cotter did.
They were sitting outside, beers in hand, the sky fading into soft pink and gold. You had gone inside to help Nico’s mom with dessert, laughing at something she said. Nico watched you through the window without realizing he was doing it.
Paul followed his gaze, smirking slightly.
“What?” Nico asked, defensive without knowing why.
Paul shrugged. “Nothing. Just… you two.”
Nico frowned. “What about us?”
Paul took a sip of his drink. “I mean, if there’s nothing going on between you… you wouldn’t mind if I asked her out, would you?”
It was such a simple question. So harmless, so easy to answer, and yet Nico felt something in his chest tighten. Not sharp, just… wrong. Like a puck hitting the post instead of the net. Close, but off in a way that made your stomach drop.
He forced a laugh. “Yeah, man. Of course. There’s nothing going on.”
The words came out automatically. Practiced, almost. Because that’s what he’d always told himself.
Paul nodded. “Good. Just checking.”
That night, Nico couldn’t sleep. He stared at the ceiling of his childhood room, listening to the familiar quiet, but everything felt different now. Restless. Too loud inside his own head. There’s nothing going on. Then why did it feel like something was slipping through his fingers?
Memories started creeping in, uninvited. The way you always leaned into him when you laughed. How you texted him first after every game. The way your voice softened when you said his name. How you looked at him like he was still just Nico, not some NHL captain, not someone the world watched.
And suddenly, Paul’s question didn’t feel harmless anymore.
It felt like a warning. Because for the first time, Nico imagined it—really imagined it. You. With someone else. Laughing like that. Looking at them the way you looked at him. And worst of all… Not needing him anymore.
He sat up abruptly, running a hand through his hair. “Shit.”
The next day, everything felt… off.
You were the same as always, bright, easy, and teasing him about something stupid, but Nico wasn’t.
He was watching you now. Not casually or absentmindedly, but intentionally. Trying to figure out something he should’ve understood years ago.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
He blinked. “I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m not,” he repeated, weaker this time.
You stepped closer, squinting at him playfully. “You’re being weird.”
Nico huffed a laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re weird.”
“Wow. Good one.”
Normally, this would’ve turned into a back-and-forth, something effortless. But today, there was a pause. A strange, unfamiliar pause. And Nico hated it.
“Hey,” you said, softer now. “Everything okay?”
There it was again, that look. Concern. Warmth. Something deeper. Something he suddenly wasn’t sure he deserved to take for granted.
“Yeah,” he said quickly. Too quickly. “Yeah, I’m good.”
You didn’t look convinced, but you nodded anyway. And that’s when Paul walked in.
“Hey,” he greeted, eyes flicking between the two of you.
Nico stiffened.
You smiled. “Hey!”
Paul hesitated for half a second, just enough for Nico to notice, before turning fully to you.
“I was actually wondering…” he started, rubbing the back of his neck. “If you would maybe want to grab coffee with me later? Just the two of us.”
Time slowed.
Nico’s chest tightened again, sharper this time. This was it. This was the moment he said he’d be fine with. So why did it feel like everything in him was screaming no?
You looked surprised. “Oh—um…”
And then you glanced at Nico. Just a quick look. But it hit him like a punch to the gut. Because you were checking. Checking him.
And Nico realized, with sudden, terrifying clarity. This wasn’t just about him anymore. If he said nothing, things would change. If he said nothing, he might lose you. Forever.
“Yeah, I—” you started.
“No.”
The word slipped out before Nico could stop it. All heads turned to him.
Your eyes widened. “Nico?”
Paul frowned. “Dude?”
Nico swallowed hard, heart racing. He hadn’t planned this. Hadn’t thought it through. But suddenly, standing there, watching you, and he knew he couldn’t pretend anymore.
“I mean—” he ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I mean, you can, obviously. I just—”
Say it. For once in your life, just say it.
“I don’t want you to.”
Silence.
Your expression softened, confusion mixing with something else. “Why?”
And there it was. The question he’d been avoiding for years.
Nico looked at you, really looked at you, and felt everything crash into place all at once. Every laugh. Every late night. Every moment he chose you without realizing he was choosing.
“Because…” he exhaled shakily, a small, almost disbelieving smile tugging at his lips. “Because I think I’ve been an idiot.”
Paul let out a quiet, “Oh,” under his breath. But Nico didn’t look away from you.
“I thought… whatever this is, it would always just be there,” he admitted. “That I didn’t have to think about it. But the idea of you going out with someone else—” he shook his head, voice tightening. “I hate it. I really hate it.”
Your heart was pounding now. “Nico…”
“I don’t know when it happened,” he continued, softer. “Or if it was always like this and I just didn’t see it. But I—” He hesitated, just for a second, and then, “I don’t want to be just your friend anymore.”
The world felt very, very quiet.
You searched his face, like you were trying to figure out if this was real.
“If I say yes to Paul,” you said slowly, “would you regret not saying this sooner?”
Nico didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah.”
A small, nervous smile tugged at your lips.
“Good,” you whispered. And then, after a beat, “Because I was kind of hoping you’d finally figure it out.”
Nico blinked. “Wait—what?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Nico, I’ve liked you for years.”
Paul groaned softly. “Unbelievable.”
Neither of you even looked at him.
Nico stepped closer, still processing, still a little stunned. “You… have?”
“Yes,” you said, smiling up at him. “You’re just slow.”
He huffed a laugh, relief washing over him so suddenly it almost made him dizzy.
“Okay,” he said. “Yeah. That’s fair.”
There was a pause, different this time. It wasn’t awkward or uncertain. It was a new kind of pause.
“About that coffee,” you added, glancing briefly at Paul before looking back at Nico.
A/N: yes, I have watched Heated Rivalry. I loved it so much, also the little storyline from Game Changer inspired this piece. I just got a notification that this is my 100th post! Thank you guys so much for reader all my stuff and for the support 🩷 Also, I wish you the best wishes for 2026! 🎆
Pairing: Nico Hischier x reader
Words: 2k
Warning: very cutesy, fluff
Nico Hischier is a routine guy. Same running route. Same time. Same playlist. Same quiet promise to himself that he won’t overthink anything today. That’s how he ends up stopping anyway.
The smoothie shop isn’t new. He’s passed it a hundred times. But today the window is open, the bell rings, and he catches sight of you behind the counter, laughing at something on your phone, completely unbothered by the world. It throws him off.
He tells himself it’s just curiosity. That’s all. Nothing else. He leans on the counter, still breathing a little heavy from his run.
“What’s good here?” he asks.
You look up, scan him once, sweaty hoodie, messy hair, resting athlete energy, and smile like you’ve clocked him immediately.
“Depends,” you say. “Are you a ‘green juice is basically punishment’ person, or a ‘fruit but make it emotional support’ person?”
He blinks. Then laughs.
“I think,” he says slowly, “I’m both.”
You make something pink. Hand it to him without explanation.
“For balance,” you say.
He drinks it outside, sitting on the curb like an idiot, and doesn’t stop thinking about you for the rest of the day.
He scores that night. Twice.
Nico doesn’t believe in superstition. Except… he doesn’t change his tape before a win. Or his socks. Or the order he puts on his gear. So when game day rolls around again, and his feet take him back to the smoothie shop without permission, he doesn’t fight it too hard.
You recognize him instantly.
“Oh,” you say. “Hockey guy lived.”
“Barely,” he says. “I think I owe you.”
“For?”
“The… balance.”
You grin and make the same smoothie without asking. This time, you slide it to him and wait.
“You win?” you ask.
He nods.
“Then you’re coming back,” you say, like it’s obvious.
He pauses. “Is that how this works?”
“That’s how luck works.”
He comes back after the game. Still in team gear. Still buzzing. You’re closing, wiping down the counter, and when you see him your smile is softer. Quieter.
Something shifts. You talk longer. About music. About how weird it is to have strangers chant your name. About how early mornings feel unreal. He doesn’t ask for your number. You don’t offer. But when he leaves, you call after him.
“Same time next home game?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah.”
It becomes a rhythm. Pregame smoothie. Postgame check-in. Sometimes a win, sometimes not, but he still comes. Still asks how your day was. Still remembers the small things you tell him. He starts lingering longer. You start watching the door more.
One night, the shop is quiet. Late. Rain tapping the windows.
“You know,” you say, “if you ever lose, I’m going to feel personally responsible.”
He shakes his head immediately. “No. Don’t say that.”
“Why?”
“Because then I’d have to stop coming.”
You look at him. Really look at him.
“Oh,” you say softly. “That would be tragic.”
He smiles, but it’s not playful this time. It’s careful. Like he’s standing on the edge of something he’s not ready to name.
“Yeah,” he says. “It would.”
And for the first time, the silence between you feels loaded.
Your friends are gathered around your tiny kitchen table, legs tangled, takeout containers everywhere. It’s late. Safe-late. The kind of late where honesty sneaks out. You don’t say his name at first.
You just say, “So. Hypothetically,” you continue, “if a guy came into your work every week, same day, same time, before and after his games.”
Your friend Lina squints. “Games?”
“Hockey.”
“Professional?” Maya asks.
You shrug too fast. “That’s not the point.”
“It kind of is,” Lina says.
You barrel forward. “And hypothetically, he remembers your favourite song. And asks how your shift went. And looks at you like he’s waiting for something but never actually does anything.”
Silence.
Then Maya: “Do you want him to do something?”
You pick at the edge of a napkin. “I don’t know. That’s the problem.”
Lina leans back. “Okay. Question. Does he leave if you’re busy?”
“No.”
“Does he show up even when he loses?”
“Yes.”
“Does he look disappointed when other customers flirt with you?”
You hesitate. “…maybe.”
They both stare at you.
Maya smiles slowly. “Oh, babe.”
Your phone buzzes on the table.
Nico: Won tonight.
Another text, a few seconds later.
Shop still open?
Your heart does that stupid thing again.
You’re wiping the counter when he comes in, hair still damp, jacket half-zipped. He looks lighter than usual. Looser.
“Congrats,” you say.
“Thanks,” he replies, eyes already on you. Always on you.
You make his smoothie. Same one. Muscle memory now.
“So,” he says casually, leaning on the counter, “do you ever get tired of me showing up like this?”
You laugh. “Should I?”
He shrugs, but there’s something careful in it. “Just checking.”
You slide the cup toward him, fingers brushing his for half a second too long. Neither of you pulls away immediately. The bell rings as another customer enters. The moment breaks. But it lingers. Later, when you lock up, he waits outside. Not hovering. Just… there.
“It’s cold,” you say.
“I know.”
You stand beside him. Shoulder to shoulder. Close enough to feel the warmth of him through your jacket.
“Can I ask you something?” he says. You nod.
“Are you just… being nice to me?”
The question lands heavier than you expect. You turn to look at him. His expression is open. Vulnerable. Captain stripped down to just a guy who wants to know if he’s imagining things too.
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” you admit.
He exhales a quiet laugh. “Yeah. That tracks.”
Neither of you moves. Not forward, not away, but something settles between you, an understanding. This isn’t nothing. And it’s not everything. Yet.
After that, things change, but only a little. There is more eye contact, less joking, longer pauses, and almost-questions that stay unsaid. He starts bringing teammates sometimes, but he always stays closest to you. Always circles back. You start saving his cup even when he hasn’t texted.
Your friends notice.
“You smile differently now,” Lina says one morning.
You don’t deny it.
One night, after a win that feels especially big, he comes back buzzing. Grinning. Alive.
“I played well,” he says, like he needs you to know.
“I know,” you say. “I watched.”
His smile freezes. “You did?”
You nod. “I wanted to see if the smoothie theory held up.”
He steps closer. Just a fraction.
“And?” he asks.
You look up at him. Heart loud. Brain quiet.
“I think,” you say carefully, “it might be more than the smoothie.”
He doesn’t kiss you. But he looks at you like he’s thinking about it all the way home.
He doesn’t plan it. That’s what surprises him most.
You’re closing late, sitting on the counter with your legs swinging, talking about nothing—about how the city feels quieter at night, about how routines sneak up on you. He’s leaning against the wall, jacket off, sleeves pushed up. Too domestic. Too easy.
“You wanna come over?” he asks suddenly.
You blink. “Like─ now?”
“Yeah,” he says, just as quiet. “If you want.”
You hesitate for exactly one heartbeat.
“I want.”
The drive is calm. Music low. His hand rests on the console between you, close enough that your fingers brush when the car turns. Neither of you says anything about it.
His place feels like him. Clean but lived-in. Neutral colours. A couple framed jerseys, nothing flashy. A couch that looks like it’s been fallen asleep on more than once.
“Sorry if it’s boring,” he says.
“It’s not,” you reply. “It feels… safe.”
He smiles at that. A lot.
He gives you a tour like it matters, the kitchen, bedroom, balcony. When he opens the door to his room, there’s a moment where the air changes. He notices. So do you.
“You okay?” he asks.
You nod. “Yeah. Just… processing.”
He laughs softly. “Me too.”
You end up sitting on the couch, knees turned toward each other. Talking slows. Eye contact deepens. The space between you shrinks without either of you deciding it should.
When he kisses you, it’s gentle. Almost tentative. Like he’s been holding this in for weeks.
It doesn’t stay that way.
The night blurs, it’s not rushed, not loud. Just warm. Intentional. Two people finally stopping the careful dance.
You fall asleep tangled together, his arm heavy around your waist, like he’s afraid you might disappear if he loosens his grip.
You wake up first. Sunlight filters in through the curtains. Nico’s still asleep, face relaxed in a way you’ve never seen before. Peaceful. Young. You shift slightly, trying not to wake him. He tightens his hold instantly.
“No,” he murmurs. “Stay.”
You freeze. “I wasn’t leaving.”
“Good,” he says, eyes still closed. “Because I don’t want you to.”
Later, over coffee, he watches you like he’s memorizing the way you take your mug. Like this is already something he doesn’t want to lose.
“I like when you’re here,” he says simply.
You smile. “I like being here.”
He nods, satisfied. Then, softer:
“Wait for me?”
You look up. “What?”
“After practice. Come back. Be here when I get home.”
Your heart stutters. “Okay.”
“And tonight,” he adds, almost shy, “sit in my seats. Where I can see you.”
You laugh quietly. “Is that another superstition?”
He smiles, slow and sure.
“No,” he says. “That’s just… what I want.”
You do exactly that. You’re there when he gets home in his borrowed hoodie, feet tucked under you on the couch. He relaxes the second he sees you.
At the game, he looks for you after every goal. Every whistle. And when your eyes meet through the glass, his smile is unmistakable.
Not captain. Not star. Just yours.
After the win, he finds you immediately. Pulls you close, forehead to yours.
“You’re staying,” he says. Not a question.
You nod. “Yeah.”
The noise is unreal.
You’re standing at the edge of the ice in borrowed boots, heart pounding harder than it ever has in your life. Confetti rains down like it’s alive. The Cup gleams under the lights, heavy and earned and real. You can barely process that this is happening, that he did this.
The doors open and the WAGs are waved forward, and suddenly you’re stepping onto the ice, gripping the sleeve of someone next to you just to stay upright. You laugh breathlessly, overwhelmed, eyes scanning the chaos. And then you see him.
Nico’s helmet is off, hair damp, cheeks flushed, smile wide in a way you’ve only ever seen in private. He’s holding the Cup with teammates around him, but the second his eyes find you, everything else drops away. He hands it off without hesitation. Walks straight toward you.
The crowd notices before you do. There’s a shift, a roar that grows louder as he closes the distance. Cameras follow. Teammates grin knowingly.
You stop just in front of him. For a second, neither of you moves.
“Hey,” he says softly, like you’re alone.
“Hey,” you manage.
“You waited,” he says, eyes warm. Certain.
“Of course I did.”
He cups your face with both hands, thumbs brushing your cheeks like he’s grounding himself. Like this, you, is the win that matters. And then he kisses you. Not rushed nor hidden. A real kiss. Solid and sure and unmistakably public. The crowd loses it.
You hear screaming, flashes, chants, but all you feel is him. The way he smiles into the kiss. The way his forehead rests against yours afterward.
“I wanted to do that for a long time,” he admits quietly.
You laugh, overwhelmed, emotional, glowing. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Just wanted it to be right.”
He pulls you into his chest, arms tight around you, the Cup shining just behind him, the whole world watching.
And for the first time, from the smoothie shop window to center ice, there’s no question. You weren’t imagining it. You were always part of the victory.
You were tying your sneakers in the hallway outside Nico’s apartment when he cleared his throat.
“Hey.”
You looked up. He was leaning against the wall, already dressed in his game suit, hair still a little damp from his shower. He looked stupidly good, which honestly felt unfair.
“Yeah?” you said.
He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. That alone made your stomach tighten. Nico didn’t usually get nervous.
“So… I was wondering,” he started, eyes flicking to yours and then away. “Would you sit in the WAG section tonight?”
You froze halfway through tying your lace. “The what?”
He smiled softly. “The WAG section. By the ice.”
You straightened slowly. “Why?”
“I just want you closer,” he said. Simple. Casual. Like he wasn’t completely rearranging your brain chemistry. Your heart started beating harder.
“Nico,” you said carefully, “that’s for, like… girlfriends.”
He shrugged, trying to act relaxed, but you saw the tension in his shoulders. “I know.”
You stared at him. He held your gaze for a second longer, then leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead like that somehow explained everything.
“I’ve gotta go,” he said, grabbing his bag. “Text me when you get there, okay?”
And just like that, he left. You stood there in the hallway for a full thirty seconds, absolutely stunned. The second you got into your car, you opened the group chat.
GUYS.
Immediately:
WHAT.
WHY ARE YOU YELLING.
You didn’t even bother easing into it.
NICO JUST ASKED ME TO SIT IN THE WAG SECTION.
Three dots popped up from everyone at once.
NO HE DID NOT.
THAT IS GIRLFRIEND TERRITORY.
ARE YOU A WAG NOW.
You stared at your phone.
I ASKED HIM WHY AND HE JUST SAID HE WANTS ME CLOSER AND THEN LEFT.
Your friends lost their minds.
HE LEFT???
THIS MAN.
BABE, HE BASICALLY PROPOSED.
You pulled into the arena parking lot still shaking.
You followed the usher to your seat, hyper aware of everything. The quieter section. The polished smiles. The way a couple of girls gave you knowing looks. You felt wildly underprepared for this. You texted again.
I AM LITERALLY SITTING NEXT TO SOMEONE’S WIFE I CANNOT DO THIS.
Warmups started a minute later. Nico stepped onto the ice and immediately scanned the crowd. His eyes found you. His lips curved into a small smile, just for himself. Your heart flipped.
Throughout the game, he kept looking over. After strong shifts. After faceoff wins. Once after he took a hit and popped right back up. Every time, his gaze landed on you, and every time something in his expression softened. You knew he noticed the jersey too.
When he scored in the first period, you jumped up, screaming like you always did. He turned toward your section right away and smiled openly this time, biting his lip before skating back to the bench.
You sent another message.
HE JUST SMILED AT ME AFTER HIS GOAL I AM UNWELL.
THIS IS CINEMA.
The Devils won, and Nico played like a man possessed. When the buzzer sounded, you clapped until your hands hurt.
After the game, you told your friends you would meet them later and made your way toward the tunnel, nerves crawling back in. You stood by the wall, replaying everything in your head. Was this his way of telling you something? Or were you reading too much into it?
Nico appeared a few minutes later, duffel bag over his shoulder, hair still damp. His face lit up when he saw you.
“Hey,” he said softly.
“Hey.”
He kissed your cheek like usual, but this time he let it linger.
You swallowed. “Can I talk to you?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
He set his bag down and led you a little farther away. You crossed your arms.
“So… the WAG section.”
He smiled. “I confused you.”
“Yes,” you said. “A lot.”
He stepped closer. “I just wanted you close tonight.”
“But Nico,” you said quietly, “that section means something. And I care about you, but we’ve never actually talked about… us.”
He went still. Then he reached for your hands.
“I talk to you every day,” he said. “You come to my games. You steal my hoodies. I look for you in the crowd every night.”
Your chest tightened.
“I guess I thought it was obvious.”
You shook your head gently. “Not to me.”
He took a slow breath, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.
“I didn’t want you sitting there unless it was real,” he said softly. “So I figured I should stop avoiding it.”
He looked up at you, eyes warm and steady. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
Your heart stuttered.
“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes, Nico.”
Relief flooded his face. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close, forehead resting against yours.
“Good,” he murmured. “Because I’ve been in love with you for a while.”
You kissed him right there in the hallway, and for once he didn’t care who might see.
Later, walking out of the arena hand in hand, you opened your group chat one last time.
UPDATE: HE ASKED ME TO BE HIS GIRLFRIEND.
Your phone exploded.
You smiled to yourself and squeezed Nico’s hand as he kissed your temple. No more confusion. You were his, and he was yours.
The locker room was loud. Music thumped through the walls, guys laughing and shouting over each other, the sound of skates clattering against the floor echoing down the hallway. You hovered just outside the door, suddenly shy now that everything was official.
Nico noticed you immediately.
He was halfway through talking to Jack when his eyes flicked up and landed on you. His whole face changed.
“Hey,” he said softly, already walking over.
Jack followed his gaze and grinned. “Well damn. Took you long enough, captain.”
Nico shot him a look but couldn’t stop smiling. He reached for your hand, lacing your fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Guys,” Nico said, voice steady but proud, “this is my girlfriend.”
Your heart did a little flip. A chorus of whistles and fake gagging followed.
“Finally.”
“About time.”
“You owe us drinks.”
You laughed nervously, cheeks warm, as Nico squeezed your hand.
“This is Y/N,” he added quietly to you, pointing people out. “Jack. Jesper. Dawson.”
They all greeted you warmly, Jack throwing an arm around Nico’s shoulders.
“We’ve known longer than you,” Jack stage whispered.
You leaned closer to Nico. “Did they?”
He nodded sheepishly. “Apparently.”
He guided you to his stall and draped his jacket over your shoulders when he noticed you rubbing your arms.
“You cold?”
“A little.”
He kissed the top of your head. “Here.”
The simple intimacy of it made your chest ache in the best way. You watched him pack his bag, still buzzing from the game, still glowing from the win. Every so often he would glance over at you like he couldn’t quite believe you were there.
At one point he walked over, cupped your face in his hands, and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Jack made dramatic gagging noises.
“I hate love.”
Nico didn’t even look at him. “You’ll live.”
After Nico finished changing, he pulled you back into his side and led you out of the arena. The cold air hit your cheeks as you stepped outside. Nico immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulders, tucking you into him.
“You okay?” he asked.
You nodded. “I just… that was a lot.”
He smiled softly. “Good lot or overwhelming lot?”
“Good lot.”
He kissed your temple. “Good.”
You walked in comfortable silence for a moment, your head resting against his shoulder. Then he spoke again.
“I was really nervous asking you.”
You looked up at him. “You were?”
He laughed quietly. “Yeah. I’ve played in Game Sevens with less anxiety.”
You smiled. “You didn’t show it.”
“I tried not to.”
He stopped walking suddenly and turned to face you, hands settling on your waist.
“I meant what I said earlier,” he told you quietly. “I’ve been in love with you for a while. I just didn’t want to mess it up.”
Your throat tightened.
“You didn’t,” you said.
He leaned in and kissed you slowly, sweet and unhurried, right there in the parking lot.
Later, curled up together in his car while waiting to leave, you pulled out your phone.
GUYS HE INTRODUCED ME AS HIS GIRLFRIEND TO THE TEAM.
Your friends lost their collective minds.
Nico peeked over. “Are they happy?”
“They’re planning our wedding.”
He laughed, pulling you closer. “Sounds about right.”
You rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, his arm snug around you. After a minute, he pressed a kiss into your hair.
“So,” he murmured, “my girlfriend hungry?”
You smiled against him.
“Very.”
He grinned. “Good. Captain’s treating.”
And as he drove you home, hand resting on your thigh, you finally let yourself relax. No more wondering. No more guessing. Just Nico and you, and a whole lot of soft smiles, stolen kisses, and hockey wins ahead.
The next morning you woke up slowly, wrapped in warmth. For a moment, you didn’t know where you were. Then you felt Nico’s arm around your waist, his chest solid against your back, his steady breathing tickling your neck.
Right. Nico Hischier. Your boyfriend. Your lips twitched at the thought.
You shifted slightly, trying not to wake him, but Nico stirred anyway. He tightened his hold on you immediately, pulling you closer like his body had memorized you overnight.
“Mornin’,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep.
“Morning.”
He pressed a lazy kiss to your shoulder, then buried his face in your hair.
“You slept okay?”
“Yeah. You?”
“Mmhmm.”
He kissed your neck softly. Once. Twice. You rolled over to face him. His hair was a mess, eyes still heavy, and he looked so peaceful it almost hurt. He smiled the second he saw you.
“Hi,” he said, like he hadn’t seen you in years.
“Hi.”
He reached out and brushed your cheek with his thumb. “My girlfriend looks cute when she wakes up.”
You blinked.
“My what?”
He smirked.
“My girlfriend.”
Your cheeks warmed instantly. “You’re going to say that all day, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
You laughed, burying your face in his chest. He wrapped both arms around you, holding you close.
“I like saying it,” he admitted quietly. “Feels real.”
Your heart melted.
Eventually, hunger won.
You both dragged yourselves out of bed, you stealing one of Nico’s hoodies while he pulled on sweatpants. He noticed immediately.
“That’s my hoodie.”
You slipped your arms through the sleeves. “Correction. It’s your girlfriend’s hoodie now.”
His smile was immediate. “Exactly.”
In the kitchen, Nico started coffee while you leaned against the counter, watching him move around like this was already routine. He handed you a mug.
“Here,” he said. “Made coffee for my girlfriend.”
You raised an eyebrow. “You’re doing it again.”
He shrugged innocently. “Just stating facts.”
You took a sip, trying not to grin. He opened the fridge, staring inside like it might offer guidance.
“What does my girlfriend want for breakfast?”
“You don’t have to call me that every sentence.”
“Yes I do.”
You laughed. “Eggs are fine.”
He nodded seriously. “Eggs for my girlfriend.”
You shook your head, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.
Halfway through cooking, his phone buzzed. He checked it and groaned.
“Team group chat.”
You smirked. “What are they saying?”
He held up his phone.
Captain finally made it official.
Jack had added about six celebratory emojis.
Nico rolled his eyes. “They’re unbearable.”
He typed back quickly.
Yeah well my girlfriend likes me so.
You nearly choked on your coffee.
“You did not.”
He showed you the screen, completely unapologetic. Jack replied instantly.
WE GET IT YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND.
Nico just smiled.
Breakfast ended up eaten on the couch, legs tangled together, a lazy playlist playing quietly in the background. Nico kept pulling you closer between bites, kissing your temple, your cheek, your nose. At one point, you leaned against him and sighed happily. He looked down at you.
“What?”
“Nothing,” you said. “Just… comfy.”
He kissed the top of your head. “Good. My girlfriend deserves comfy mornings.”
You groaned dramatically. “Nico.”
He laughed, low and warm. “Sorry. Can’t help it.”
You curled into his side, tracing idle circles on his chest. He grew quieter then, arms tightening just a little.
“I like this,” he said softly.
“This?”
“Waking up with you. Making coffee. Saying girlfriend.” He smiled down at you. “Feels like something I’ve wanted for a long time.”
Your throat tightened. You kissed him slowly, deliberately. He pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours.
“Lazy day?” he asked.
“Lazy day.”
He nodded. “Perfect. My girlfriend is not leaving this couch.”
You smiled against his lips. And honestly? You had zero plans to argue.
