#Moose Big Boss

[1eos]

jk i found the video!! gonna get another leo fan today

gather the acolytes bc im already manifesting the first leo comeback under big moose ent to be his mega hit

[mikkomacko]

Him and I - 12

Darling You

Nico Hischier x reader, Mob Boss!Nico

Warnings: Snippy reader, panic attack

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

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It may have been years since Nico’s made the trip to Switzerland, but it’s a hangover he’ll never forget. Body sore from being on a plane for six hours, hungry for real, nutritious food but sick from eating airline food, head aching from the roar of jet engines and the altitude changes. It’s just fucking exhausting.

He remembers the first time he made the trip with Timo, Jesper, and Jonas. They’d all spent a few days in the new apartment sleeping it off. And even when they finally got to work on getting the Devils up and running, they were dead on their feet for a while.

He thinks of that as he helps you out of the car, the garage door clanging and grinding as it shuts. Timo, like him, doesn’t look too bad as he moves to gather the carry-ons from the boot of the car. The other luggage can wait until tomorrow.

“I can stay here, yeah?”

Nico gives him an exasperated look, almost tipping over when you fall out of the car into his arms. You’ve got your feet under you, but your knees are lazily bent and from the way you’re worming into his ribs, Nico’s certain you’re not even carrying half your weight.

“Course you can.” You mumble to Timo, blinking blearily from under Nico’s arm. He laughs under his breath, moving you out of the way so he can close the car door and then he’s dragging you towards the house.

Fighting with the bags, Timo shoves his way into the house. It doesn’t take long for Nico to hear them thump to the floor, Timo obviously giving up on doing anything productive with them.

“Step baby,” Nico instructs you, and you begrudgingly wake yourself up enough to follow him up the couple stairs and into the door. He lets you slump against the wall while he closes and locks up the garage, the sounds of the other boys coming in the front door floating into the laundry room.

Hands under your arms, Nico walks you into the kitchen, dodging the abandoned luggage. “I’m so tired,” you say through a yawn, “why won’t my legs work?”

Timo snorts a laugh at you, leaning heavily on the counter with a bottle of water in his hands. It’s too early in the morning for Johnny to be up, but it only takes a few seconds for pattering paws to come down the staircase.

Suddenly revitalized, you spring to life in Nico’s arms, already shaking him off as you scramble for the bottom of the stairs.

“My baby!” You cry as Moose barrels down the steps, paws sliding on the tile floor and you wrap him up in your arms before he can fall forward. Huddled on your knees, you bury your face in the dog’s neck and pet at his ears, mumbling sweet words. “Oh I missed you so much, Moose.”

He licks at your face, tail wagging in a frenzy behind him and Nico’s heart stings with guilt. He should’ve let you take the stupid dog to Switzerland. They wouldn’t have needed to ask the boys to house-sit and you would’ve been far more comfortable with Moose there. Hell, the dog would’ve done what he was trained to do and saved you from fucking Lena.

Giving you another second to say hi, Nico finally makes his way to stand behind you. He lays a hand on Moose’s head, digging his fingers into the thick fur there and pulling just slightly.

He whistles and Moose shoots up straight like an arrow, looking up at Nico with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. You climb to your feet, petting his ears again and mumbling a quiet “good boy,” when Moose remains still, waiting for Nico to say something to him. Then you wonder off to the fridge, dragging your feet and Moose watching you with big puppy eyes and he shifts impatiently. Wanting to get to you but unable to without Nico’s command.

Taking pity in how overwhelmed the poor dog is, Nico crouches down in front of him. “Musli,” he says guiltily, petting at the side of the dog’s face and Moose leaps into Nico, tackling him to the kitchen floor.

“I’m sorry we left you,” Nico apologizes through a laugh, Moose sniffing and licking at his face and neck. The dog is heavy on his chest, nails digging into Nico’s stomach uncomfortably but Nico simply wraps his arms around him, holding him tightly. “I know, I’ll never do it again.”

Like he’s speaking to him, Moose barks and yelps at Nico, his whole body vibrating with excitement to the point that Nico can’t even hold him still. He curls into himself on the cold tile, shielding his face and laughing as Moose darts between barking in his ear and nipping at his hair.

Moose doesn’t let up until the younger boys mosey into the kitchen, giving Nico a break as he runs over to smell their hands and feet with suspicion.

Panting, Nico groans as he climbs back to his feet. You help straighten out his shirt once he’s upright, dusting off his shoulders and chest before curling into his side, arms wrapped lazily around his waist.

“I’m going to bed,” Jack announces after he’s done petting Moose, stretching his arms over his head. He moves to the stairs, pausing at the bottom one and looking to Nico.

“Work tomorrow?”

For a moment Nico thinks about telling him to be in by 8 as usual, just to see what he’d say or do. But the kid did good work in Switzerland, was on guard 24 hours of the day and didn’t whine once so he gives him a break.

“Nah catch up on your sleep tomorrow,” Nico waves him off, then gestures to the other boys too. “All of you. Come back in when you feel up to shape, yeah?”

It’s like watching them run down the stairs on Christmas morning, Jack whipping around with wide eyes to stare at Luke, Mercer, and Holtz. They all exchange similar looks of excitement, acting like Nico is come cruel and usual boss, and Nico rolls his eyes.

They all take off up the stairs, a renewed energy in them now that they know they can sleep in tomorrow and Nico has a feeling they’re all already planning on squishing into Alex’s room to stay up and play video games.

“Don’t know what room Johnny is in,” you mumble, wincing. “I hope they don’t wake him.”

Nico shrugs, pressing his fingers into the small of your back. “If the dog didn’t wake him I doubt they will.”

Moose trots over to rub against your legs, pushing his butt up when you start scratching by his tail.

“Some house sitter you got there.” Timo snorts, rubbing at his eyes. “Do I get the dog or are you hoarding him now?”

Peering up at Nico for an answer, you bat your eyelashes at him, pleadingly. You’re cute, pressed into his chest with your puppy dog eyes, sleep still evident in every corner of your features. Any other night and he’d relent, even if it meant him sleeping terribly because Moose loves to lay on his feet.

But he’s exhausted and you’re exhausted, and he’s got ideas that don’t involve the dog sitting at the bottom of the bed.

“Aww,” Nico pouts, running his fingers through your hair and your lips begin to perk up, thinking he’s going to agree. “No, he sleeps with Timo.”

“What? Nico!”

Smirking, he pecks a placating kiss to your lips while Timo laughs, giddily. Moose, recognizing Timo’s excitement gallops over to his uncle T, circling his legs a few times.

“You and me bud,” Timo tells him, scratching at the top of his head. Nico did send Moose with him because he wants alone time with you, but now watching his friend fawn over having a cuddling buddy, he thinks it’s probably for the best for Timo too. The guy is good at being chill and happy, easy-go-lucky Timo but Nico knows he’s upset. That underneath the sleep ridden eyes and lazy smile, he’s thinking of Amelia and how yet again he’s had to make the trip back to Jersey without her.

“Go say goodnight,” Nico tells you, nudging you towards Timo. You sigh through your nose, dragging your feet over and he watches with amusement as you dramatically crouch down and wrap your arms around Moose. He can’t hear what you mumble into the dog’s ear but Timo can if the short laugh he lets out is anything to go by. You then wrap yourself around Timo, muttering a goodnight and “please snuggle my baby for me” with sad eyes pointed at Nico.

“I will, I promise.” Timo assures, sharing an amused look with Nico. Then he’s kissing the top of your head and sending you back to Nico, cutting across the kitchen to head for the downstairs bedroom. Moose pads after him happily, tail wagging ever so slightly as they go.

Petulant, you accept Nico’s outstretched hand, letting him tug you into his chest. He wraps you up tightly, squeezing his biceps around your shoulders until you make a choking noise of complaint.

“Hey,” he murmurs, squeezing your side. “Don’t make Timo sleep alone tonight. He just had to say goodbye to Amelia…again.”

“He could come sleep with us too.”

Nico scoffs. “No, I had my years of sharing a bed with Timo.”

You sigh, dramatic as ever. “Ok.”

Taking that as an agreement, Nico walks you towards the living room, wanting to double check that the boys locked the front door and to set the alarm. You follow him easily, sleep catching up to you again and all he has to do is keep you from running into walls as you navigate the dark house.

He turns the deadbolt at the front door, punches in the code for the alarm system and now just has to get you upstairs, out of your traveling clothes and preferably into nothing else.

You get to the base of stairs, shoes hitting the bottom step with a low thump, and then you’re looking up at him, eyes half closed.

“Carry me?”

“I think you can make it,” he says, just to make you even more whiny.

“You gave away my dog. The least you could do is carry me.”

Shaking his head in laughter, Nico scoops you up into his arms, wincing when your foot bangs into the wall. You don’t seem to care though, smiling contently and curling into him with a little sigh.

Nico’s tired and his muscles complain the whole way up, but all he can think about is how he’ll get to do this for the rest of his life with you.

~~~~

Nico wonders how long it’s physically possible for two people to stay in bed.

He remembers practically living under the sheets with you after Philly. It was like you were always hiding from something, shielding yourself behind him and the oversized duvet on his bed. It wasn’t hard for you either, to stay there. You didn’t get stir crazy, didn’t have to force yourself to stay tucked into his side in the mornings.

You craved it almost.

It’s almost funny how similar the past couple days have been to that time. Different circumstances of course. You and him aren’t hiding from anything, you’re preserving it. The bubble you didn’t get to enjoy in Switzerland. Between his father and Lena, there was never no chance to bask in the engagement like he’d originally planned. Even after he officially asked you, there was always something. A house full of boys demanding your attention and time, his siblings trying to repair bonds that had been broken before Nico even hit puberty, and pushing Timo into chasing love.

Now though, the house has gone empty. The boys returned to the loft, Johnny went back to work, and after a full nights rest you came to your senses about Timo’s aching heart and let him take Moose for as many days as he needs.

And Moose gets his own little vacation across town, gets to live it up at the bachelor pad with Timo. A treat for him to make up for the trip you and Nico went on without him.

“I love our home,” you whisper so as to not disturb the mid-morning stillness. Nico can’t see your face but he can imaging the peaceful look on it, the sun filtering in through the currents bathing you in glowing light.

He pecks a kiss to your bare shoulder, flexing the arm he has thrown over your waist. “Me too,” he agrees, but the longer he thinks about it, the more he realizes this morning feels the same as the mornings in Switzerland.

Home was never the house, it’s you.

“I love my ring,” you say, the hint of a smile in your words as you fiddle with the silver band. Nico hasn’t seen you take it off since you got it, and even though it’s probably not smart to sleep with it on, he can’t bring himself to tell you.

He shifts forward, pressing another kiss to the curve where your shoulder meets your neck. “Me too,” he agrees, yet again, wondering where you’re going next with this. How long the two of you can lay here and name the things you love.

You hum at the feeling of his mouth, arching back into a beautiful stretch that elongates your neck and curves your hips towards him. All warm and soft and inviting.

“And I love you,” you preen, left hand slipping under the blankets to grab at his bare thigh. Almost encouragingly you pull at his leg, hiking it over your hip.

“I love you darling.” He says into the base of your jaw, goosebumps rising on his skin as your fingers play with the hair on his leg. Kissing at the corner of your mouth, Nico pushes himself up, your body falling back in the warm alcove he’d previously been occupying. “So much,” he says, settling between your parted thighs.

“Darling,” you hum, looking so beautiful with your hair fanned out across his pillow, the sun dancing on your bare skin, glinting off the necklace lying between your naked breasts. “I like that one.”

Nico leans in, kissing down the column of your throat, following the line of the gold chain. You cup the back of his neck, thumb mindlessly stroking back and forth. “Yeah?” he asks, kissing chastely at the underside of each breast, where you’re the fullest and your skin the hottest.

“Like all the names you give me,” you continue, fingers sliding across his skin to cup his face, drawing him back up to your face.

Your cheeks are flush and full of life, your eyes more content and happy than he’s seen them in weeks. He nudges your nose with his. “Giving you the most important one.”

A girlish giggle bubbles out of you, warm against his lips and his heart throbs in his chest. He never in a million years thought this is where New Jersey would get him. He ran away from his family, from his home, from everything he’d ever known. He expected to just be here, just him and his work, practicing isolationism probably.

Instead he found the one person in the world to ever love him, unconditionally and unselfishly.

“Kuss?” You request, tilting your head to give him a better angle and Nico happy obliges. His lips find yours for a slow and sweet kiss, your legs coming up to wrap around his hips.

Your hands tangle in his hair, threading through his knotted bed head. Nico, half-hard since you pulled that move of stretching back into him, shifts more of his weight on to you.

“Are we ever going to get out of bed?” You ask after tugging on his hair, him groaning delightedly at the way it sends tingles through his scalp.

He kisses you again. “No,” his smile touches your lips, sweet and tender. “S’our honeymoon. We get to do what we want.”

Your eyes light up with laughter, big and shiny and beautiful as you look up at him. Afraid his heart is going to beat right out of his chest if he keeps looking at you, Nico ducks down to mouth at your neck.

“I think you’re jumping the gun there,” you say with mirth, and Nico nips at you in retaliation, subtly grinding his cock against the soft pudge of your stomach.

“Engagement honeymoon,” he reasons, breath hitching when you press up into him, encouragingly, “And I want to celebrate by fucking in the bed we’ll be fucking in for the rest of our lives.”

You laugh, your body curling into him until you’re wrapped around him like a vice. “Oh how romantic Neeky,” you say dreamily, and he smiles at the nickname.

Tugging him back up to your lips for a chaste kiss, you cup his jaw. Unknowingly he bites at his bottom lip and you pull at it with your thumb until he lets up, releasing the full force of his boyish smile. “I don’t think we’re supposed to have the same mattresses for that long.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, “and how long will that be?”

You purse your lips, humming as you contemplate. “100 years.”

Your thumb traces his bottom lip, fingertip soft and tender, and he moves to press a kiss to the pad of it. “Not long enough,” he whispers, and then because there’s not much else to say, you draw him in for another kiss.

Nico lets you have control of it, holding his face and teasingly licking into his mouth. Tracing his hand down the curve of your side, skin so soft and warm, he takes ahold of his now fully hard cock. Tilting his hips, Nico lines himself up at your entrance, humming in satisfaction when he feels how wet you already are.

“Can I have you, baby?” He mumbles into the kiss, and you nip at his bottom lip in agreement.

“You already do.” It’s just a breath against his face, warm and sticky, and it leaves him aching for more. He captures your lips with his again, guiding his cock through your folds and pressing in when the head catches on your hole.

Your lips part from his, just enough to whimper beautifully against the plushness of his mouth. Nico holds the side of your thigh, hitching it higher up his hip and you go with, pliantly accommodating the extra space he’s demanding between your thighs.

You do so effortlessly, like it’s nothing to make room for him, to accept him. Like after all this time he’s an extension of you.

Nico fucks you slow and filthy, bodies sweat-slicked and hot from being pressed so close together. He kisses you messily, like your lips are his last meal on death row, unrelenting even when you’re panting for air against his desperate kisses. You cling to him, left hand finding his and locking your fingers together above your head, so tightly his knuckles grow white and ache.

The whole time, the band of your ring, now warm against his skin, reminding him that he does in fact already have you, and you have him.

~~~~

Nico’s barely slid into the backseat of the car, slamming the door shut against the biting wind outside before he’s letting out an affronted scoff. In the two seconds it took him to peek at you through the crack between the front seat and door, he knows you’re not even remotely dressed warm enough.

Leaning his elbow onto the center console, he looks you up and down with judgmental eyes.

“Where the fuck is your coat?”

Timo chuckles, shifting the car into drive and pulling away from the curb without even waiting for Nico to buckle up. Mockingly, you turn to him with your jaw dropped.

“Where the fuck is your seatbelt?”

Unamused, he huffs and settles into the backseat. Ignoring your giggling, he buckles but not even two seconds later he’s kicking the back of your seat.

“It’s -1 outside and slushy, where is your coat?”

Immediately he knows he’s messed up, catching the teasing look on your face as you glance the dash where it’s glaringly obvious displaying that it’s 30 degrees right now.

“Wrong side of the pond there, Neeky.” You say, in that tone you always use to annoy him and push at his buttons. It’s never in a truly mean way but a part of him wonders if you’re sharp tongue is back because today was his first day back at work since you’ve returned.

You were just as taunting with him after he returned to work post Philly incident. Sure he’d been attached your hip for a much longer time period than the trip to Switzerland so he expected some bite from you, but this is feeling just as bratty.

Nico decides he’s not even going to try to entertain you, too upset with the fact that it’s freezing temperatures outside and the light rain from earlier is slowly turning to snow. Meanwhile you’re dressed in a white sweater from his side of the closet and a skirt.

“I’m not asking you again.” He gruffs, arms crossed over his chest and you sigh. Then, as if it’s the most perfect excuse in the world, you run your hands over the sheer black fabric on your thighs.

“I wore fleece lined tights.”

Nico huffs in disbelief, knowing there’s no way in hell you actually thought that’d be warm enough except that you do. He can already hear the excuses in his head, the same one you give him every time you want it to snow.

If you dress like it’s not going to be a blizzard, it will in fact be a blizzard. It’s your own form of washing the car just to make it rain the next day. Somehow it always works too.

He doesn’t say anything, settling back into his seat and staring out the windshield as Timo navigates through Newark. Nico has no idea where this new restaurant you were dying to try out is, and he’s about to ask Timo how far away it is but you’re slipping your left hand over the console, wiggling your fingers at him.

The diamond ring on your finger twinkles prettily, reaching for him and he rests his hand on his knee, lacing his fingers through yours and all thoughts of lunch leave his mind. Soothingly, he traces the band of your ring with his thumb, admiring how perfectly your hand looks in his, feels in his.

“Wait where are we going?” You ask and Nico looks up, not sure what direction Timo is supposed to be going in.

“I gotta stop at the loft real quick.” He explains and you pout, slumping in your seat a bit. Stroking his thumb over the back of your hand, Nico and you sit silently the rest of the ride, Timo humming along to his playlist until he’s pulled up to the curb.

“Why wouldn’t you park in the garage?” You ask, a bit snotty and he has to bite back a laugh. Timo should’ve known this unannounced detour would make you crabby, no doubt annoyed at having to wait longer for food you’ve been craving.

“Because we’re just running in real quick.” Timo sasses back, staring at you challengingly as he takes the keys out of the ignition.

“We?” You scoff, “I don’t have a jacket. I’m not getting out.”

As if proving your point, you take your hand back from Nico and cross your arms over your chest, staring out the front windshield like you’ve got all the time and patience in the world.

“Bro,” Timo sighs, looking to Nico with pleading eyes. He doesn’t particularly want to take his friend’s side over yours but it’s looking like this whole thing will go a lot quicker if you just get out of the car. And the quicker this is, the sooner they can get some food in you.

Nico huffs, unbuckling and sliding forward until he can peer around the seat at you. Encouragingly, he wraps his fingers around your bicep and squeezes. “Come on baby, it’ll be quick and I’ll give you my coat.”

Petulantly, you undo your seatbelt and climb out of the car, shutting the door on both of them. Nico sighs, shooting Timo a glare as he reaches for his door handle. “Gee thanks for pissing her off, T.”

“Me?” He squeaks, “you did this! She’s been a monster all day because she misses you.”

Nico can’t help but smile, endeared by the fact that you ache for him so much when he’s gone you turn into a little demon. Maybe he shouldn’t be basking in joy that you’ve been making Timo’s day hell, but it’s sweet how much you want to be around Nico all the time. He’s missed you today too.

Slipping out of the car and knocking it shut with his hip, Nico peels off his warm wool coat, and finds you shivering on the sidewalk, arms hugging your body. You’re still glaring at Timo, but when Nico steps up beside you and wraps his coat over your shoulders, you blink up at him with that pretty Bambi look in your eyes.

Putting your arms into the sleeves, he button the top loop for you, huddling you under his arm. And then just because he missed you and because he can, Nico kisses the top of your snow spackled hair, not caring how cold it is against his lips.

“Hurry up you big babies!” Timo grumbles over his shoulder, rushing towards the front door of the building. He begins impatiently hitting the button for the top loft apartment, insistent buzzing filling the air.

Following after him, you and Nico step up to the door and you wait until you’re in earshot of Timo to mock his words in a high-pitch mumble. Luckily the door clicks open before Timo can say anything else, and Nico yanks it open to usher you inside.

The ride up to the top floor is tension filled. Timo pointedly ignoring you, eyes practically stuck on the ceiling of the elevator as you watch his every move through a squinted glare. And yet Nico is painfully biting at the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too much, throughly entertained and surprised by how petty and childish you can be when hungry and upset.

He’d forgotten that despite your achingly sweet personality, you can get even meaner than Nico under the right circumstance.

The elevator opens and Nico guides you down the hall with a hand on your neck, nudging Timo with his elbow when his friend falls in by his side. He' trying to tell him to lighten up, that you're literally just hungry and while regressing to a five year old when you haven't eaten isn't the most attractive characteristic of yours, it's not that big a deal.

Except Timo is just as touchy as you right now, probably still dealing with the heartache of his long distance girlfriend and Moose was no longer at Timo's for sleepovers. The guy is just a little lonely, Nico thinks.

It's a tough situation for him to be in the middle of.

"After you," Timo sighs with faux politeness, motioning to the front door of the loft. Crossing your arms, you look Timo up and down, popping your hip out patiently and again Nico is fighting back laughter. It's not often he sees you and Timo like this, but it is hilarious.

"It's your errand, you go first."

If this were one of those old cartoons with the cat and mouse, steam would be rolling out of Timo's ears. As much Nico wants this to go on, wants to see if you and Timo will go as far as swatting each other, it's better if this just rolls on so he can get some food in you.

"Alright, relax," he says, ducking around you to open the door. He's barely turned the knob, walking in backwards and dragging you with him by the hand when Timo sticks his foot out to make you stumble. Nico's steady hand keeps you from falling but it does nothing to stop you from shaking the sleeve of Nico's coat over your free hand, whipping the sewed edge of it at Timo's arm and chest.

"Ow!" Timo complains, swatting at your hand "Nico your wife is being a child!"

Harshly, you shove him into the edging of the door. "Nico your best friend is being a little bitch." You mock, sticking your tongue out at him.

Finally, he breaks, cackling in amusement as Timo bullies his way into the loft and kicks the door shut behind him. He stands over you, eyes narrowed in irritation, but you simply glare back up at him, sleeves hanging over your hands, and even drowning in his coat you seem more menacing than Timo.

"For the love of god there has to be snacks here," Nico mumbles, taking ahold of your elbow and dragging you down the entryway. Huffing, you pliantly follow after him, Timo's heavy footfall trailing behind you.

Nico's just rounded the entryway into the the living room/kitchen when he notices the large white and gold balloons framing the walk way. Before he can ask though, you're all coming face to face with every Devs member, girlfriends and wives included.

"Surprise!" They shout, Jack's screech louder than everyone else and Nico thinks no one should be able to sound that shrill when wearing a button up and tie.

The place is decorated to T. White and classy, elegant tablecloths on what looks like catered Italian food filled tables. The furniture has been swiped out for tall, round tables, all centered with white flower arrangements and candles in the center. Hanging from the ceiling above the balcony doors is a banner, beautiful calligraphy writing out Nico and Y/n Forever in black with gold detailing.

He smiles, looking over to find that the fight has drained out of you, instead replaced with a look of awe. You're eyes are wide and glossy, that most perfect smile of your stretched across your cheeks and you laugh emotionally.

"Yeah surprise," Timo says dully, peeking over your shoulder before ducking around to join the party. You roll your eyes, shoving him as he goes but you're still smiling so Nico doesn't worry too much.

"Are you gonna hug us or what?” Jack demands, barreling forward and wrapping his long arms around you. You squeeze him back, giggling and thanking him.

“I just let you guys use my place,” he says, then looks to Nico with an innocent gleam in his eyes, arms spread wide.

“My place, technically.” Nico corrects, but he accepts the hug from the elder Hughes boy. He’s quickly followed by Luke who you happily wrap up in a hug.

“Yeah well anyway,” Jack continues, “Nicole and Nola pretty much did it all. With permission of Jesp and Jonas of course but yeah the girls are better planners.”

Caught entirely off guard, you look to Nico with wide eyes. Like the idea of the girls doing something nice for you is so foreign, so unknown to you. Maybe you’re expecting to hear that Nico had a part in it, but he didn’t.

The surprise was as much his as yours, though probably not as personally as it seems to be touching you.

You go oddly quiet after that, letting Luke take the coat from your shoulders to put in Alex’s room, looking Nico over in disapproval. “No coat? Come on man, it’s snowing out there.”

Nico doesn’t even bother defending himself. The two of you bounce around the room greeting everyone and thanking them, letting them look at your ring for nothing longer than a moment and it’s cute, how protective you are over it. Cute until Nico thinks that maybe you’re guarding it, hiding your hand in the crook of his elbow so that they can’t take it, or even imply it shouldn’t be on your hand.

Like you’re worried someone here will say you don’t deserve it.

He can’t help it after that, watching you far too closely. His hello’s and thank you’s come off as dismissive, his attention on you and how you slowly keep shrinking even further into his side.

Even when Jesper and Jonas approach, the girls flanking them, you don’t melt into your usually bubbly personality, don’t offer big hugs like you did Alex and Luke and the younger boys. An awkward side hug with the girls and a wave to the boys, lips in a tight smile as you thank them. It sounds genuine, even if you appear as if you’d rather be anywhere but here right now.

Nico doesn’t even know what to do, what went so wrong that as greetings went on you felt more and more unwelcome.

“How was Switzerland?” Jonas asks you, eagerly “Did you like it?”

Heart dropping in his chest, Nico runs a hand his face. Unbelievable, of all things to ask at a time where you look like you’re walking on eggshells.

“It was beautiful,” you respond, a genuine smiling pulling at your lips, a bit strained but it’s something. You don’t say anything else about it, gaze shifting from Jonas to the table food behind him and Nico thinks that maybe you’re just hungry still.

“I’m starving,” Nico complains, patting at his stomach for dramatic effect. Then, as warning to drop the subject of Switzerland and to give you an out he adds, “And I’ll lose my appetite if I have to talk about my family again so we’re gonna go get plates.”

“Yeah of course!” Nola jumps in, waving you towards the food with a friendly smile. “John was on catering duty, said only the best pasta for his amanti.”

You snort at the nickname, clearing your throat to hide the little snicker. “Thank you guys again. This is all really sweet.”

Offering another little smile, you look up at Nico expectantly and he doesn’t waste a second before leading you towards the catering, your arm wrapped tightly around his.

Luke, with an already dirty plate in hand, is plopping more spoonfuls of Alfredo onto his plate, sandwiching it between two pieces of garlic bread. He looks up when you approach, pointing the serving spoon down towards the dish.

“This shit is so good,” he practically moans, setting the spoon down and placing his other piece of bread on top until a towering pasta sandwich takes up the plate.

You gape at him, blinking a few times in awe before shaking your head. “You might be a genius Lukey,” you breath and then your wiggling out Nico’s hold to get you and him a plate, not sparing him a second glance as you shove his plate into his hands and go about serving.

Luke follows you dutifully, leaning over your shoulder and offering mumbled pointers as you serve your own arrangement of pasta and bread. Deciding that you’re comfortable enough for the moment, Nico starts serving his own pesto, realizing that John has picked your favorite Italian restaurant. You don’t eat there very often, at least not inside, but you always order delivery or takeout. It was a place you used to eat at with your parents when you were a child, but ever since falling out with them, you don’t go inside.

Nico’s not sure if you’re more afraid of seeing them in there or not seeing them in there. Of realizing that they’ve got a whole different life now, one that doesn’t include the place you all shared.

“Thank god she’s eating,” Timo suddenly says, appearing by Nico’s side and picking up his own plate. In tandem, the two of them switch off serving from the numerous different platters.

“Yeah she’s not in the best mood,” Nico agrees, quietly. “She’s not a big of surprises either though so you might’ve pissed her off even more.”

Timo’s mouth falls open. “What? Are you serious? She’s more mad?”

Nico shrugs. You’re not mad exactly, more annoyed maybe but even that doesn’t describe it entirely. You just look…uncomfortable and defensive.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” he finally explains, glancing down the table to where you and Luke are digging through the garlic bread for the biggest piece. “I’m hoping she’ll talk to me after she eats.”

“Weird,” Timo hums, thoughtfully. They sit in brief moment of silence before Timo looks around as if realizing something.

“Do you think it’s everybody?” He asks, hushed. “I mean she’s close with the stooges that live here and Johnny but everyone else…”

“Not so much,” Nico adds, a lightbulb going off in his head. Technically they’re his friends, at least in your eye they are. You’re putting up walls because you feel like the odd one out, surrounded by people that have been in Nico’s life for years but barely scratched the surface in yours.

You’ve always had a hard time letting people in for real, letting them see more than just the surface. You’d been taught from a young age how to present yourself, what others should see and Nico has seen first hand what that upbringing has done to hurt you.

Sighing softly, Nico shares a knowing look with Timo before they follow you down the line of the table, grabbing their last few items before crowding around the round table you followed Luke too.

Nico takes the seat next to you, left hand finding your thigh in what he hopes in a comforting presence. You glance at him, smiling softly in thanks before turning to Timo on the other side of the table.

“A quick errand huh?” You tease, “you’re lucky I didn’t hit you harder for this.”

Timo scoffs, a smile playing at his lips. “I should’ve hit you harder for calling me a bitch.”

Pleased with yourself, you giggle, all beautiful and bubbly, twirling your fork in your pasta. Jack, lazily picking at the label of a beer bottle, snorts.

"The whole place heard that, by the way-" he must kick Timo under the table because he flinches, glaring over at Jack "you little bitch."

Suddenly offended, you scoff and jostle Nico's hand as you kick Jack in this shin even harder than he kicked Timo. "Hey, only I get to call him that!"

The meal seems to ease you. You've still got a little bite to your attitude, snarky comments directed at almost all the boys and then you slink back into Nico's arm, batting your eyelashes at him when the boys whine. He knows the game, knows exactly what you're doing. Lucky for you, Nico has always been down to play your games, knows that he'll always end up on the receiving end if he aids you, so he keeps quite and broody, silencing the boys with a look when they start to bitch at him.

What can Nico say except happy wife, happy life, right?

And you are happy, at least you look like you’re trying to be happy but eventually the food is cleared away and Jack is setting up his switch for everyone to take turns playing Just Dance and Nico can see the moment you look around and panic.

No one has volunteered to go first yet, no one fighting over spots but he’s certain Nola and Jonas are about to spin around and pin first game to you and Nico. You must know it too because you’re slow to move from the table, cautious eyes watching everyone else get up and for a second, it’s like you’ve forgotten Nico is even there. Sly, like you’re going to follow behind Timo to the dance area, you get up from the table and Nico follows suite, prepared to follow whatever path you feel like taking today.

Except you pause, hanging back behind everyone and then you’re moving for the hallway to the bedrooms, quick like you’re trying to make a getaway. You only get a couple steps before freezing, turning around with wide and glossy eyes to meet his confused gaze.

Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong.

Wordlessly, you hold your hand out to him and he takes it, letting you lead him down the hall and into Alex's room. You drop his hand and he locks the door, turning to you at the choked sound of your breathing.

It's been awhile but he knows that sound. Remembers listening for it every time the sound of glass clinking or shattering filled the air. Remembers waking up to it in the middle of the night, listening to you gasp and wheezy against his neck while he held you, begging you to focus on him, to follow his lead.

"Baby," he calls, carefully and softly. He should've known this would happen, should've known that it was adrenaline keeping you going in Switzerland, that as soon as you were home with no distraction it would all hit. You were hurt, badly, twice by his family and he should've done something. He should've been told about this party, given a warning so that he could tell Timo no, that you're not ready to be in this environment.

But he was too caught up in everything, blinded by the rose tinted glasses, by the engagement honeymoon with you.

"M'fine," you say, but you're holding a hand over your heart, choking in shallow breathes, and he's knows you're not fine.

Nico does what he knows best. He gathers you up in his arms, a hand on the back of your neck and you bury your nose in his shoulder, rigid and trembling as he squeezes you as tightly as he can.

“I’m ok, really.” You mumble into his shirt, and he nods. You’re ok, here with him. He knows you’re ok, because you’re always ok with him. Even when you’re panicking like this, when your fear of something has clawed its way into your lungs and is suffocating, he knows you’ll be ok.

But he likes to hold you through it, to hold you steady, to be there to fight for you if you need him to.

He waits until your breathing has leveled, the muscles of your back and neck relaxing under his hands.

“Please talk to me baby,” he begs, resting his chin on top of your head. “What happened? I mean, you haven’t had a panic attack since-“

“Switzerland,” you cut him off, meekly. “I had one in Switzerland.”

Nico hesitates. You had one in Switzerland? He hadn't been told, hadn't been there for that. It couldn't have been when he was sleeping, because he always wakes up when you do, has ever since Philly. So when was it? Why did you hide it from him?

"When?" He asks, and then he suddenly has the devasting thought that maybe it was that night he left you in the hospital by yourself, hoping you'd simply sleep through all the bad things.

"At the party," you whisper, "when I said I went out for fresh air it."

You were lying, in a way. Maybe you were going for fresh air, hoping it would curb the attack, or maybe you were running from the party to fight through it alone. Either way, it happened right under his nose and not only did he miss that, it lead to Lena getting her hands on you.

This is even worse than him originally thinking it happened in the hospital. At least then he was doing something productive, not just distracted by poker and beer, and at least in the hospital you would've had doctors and nurses and Nina.

Nico hides his face in your hair, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to find off the wave of guilt making his head spin.

"What happened?" He begs, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was too hard," you respond, not much of an answer but he doesn't have to prod anymore, because here, in his arms, you let the words pour out of your mouth freely. Things you've been holding in for weeks. Things that he missed.

"I couldn't make friends with those girls Nico, even when I tried. I didn't get their jokes and I don't get Swiss German and I was nobody to them. I just-freaked out I guess. All of sudden everything was too much.

"I was being watched and didn't know by who, and I was so mad at you but I couldn't say it and you were mad at me too, and I just didn't know anything."

Stupid, Nico thinks, he's so fucking stupid. For this whole thing, this whole trip. He should've just mailed the ring to the states and proposed to you here, somewhere safe. Instead he tried to play the whole boy-next-door bit, taking you to his childhood home to meet his family and his friends, to try and be the carefree and social teenager he used to be. Stupidly, he thought maybe you'd see that his life at least had some love in it, that he's capable of loving you forever.

He should've known that after everything he did, he can't be his old self in his old home ever again. All he did was let you get hurt.

"I tried to look at you, to look for you but then I couldn't breathe and I was just running. It wasn't until I was outside that I realized what I did but then-"

"I know," Nico interjects, not wanting to here this again. He'd heard it one too many times already, saw the footage one too many times already.

The room goes still. You wrap your arms around his waist, step further into his chest until your clinging to him like a lifeline. He holds you like he's trying to hold every little piece together.

"Why is it so hard?" You whisper after a moment, sounding so small. "Making friends? Why can't I just talk to them? Even Nola and Nicole, I don't-"

You don't finish the sentence. You don't have too. Nico already understands. All this time it's been you and him, you and Timo. He cushioned you after your friends and family rejected you, surrounded you with him and Timo and the boys he knew loved you because he never wanted you to feel out of place again. But he also made it harder for you to step away, to let more people into your life. There was no room, no need for anyone else because he was trying to be everything for you.

He can't speak. His throat has gotten choked up with every stupid little mistake he made that got you to this point. It like a huge snowball, building up and up until it turned into an avalanche pouring down on you. And at the center of it all is him being the one that took you away from your family, that divided you and your friends.

"You're my best friend Nico," you say, certain and proud, tone stronger than before. "You have been for a long time."

He can feel your smile against his neck, the way you squeeze him just a little tighter and it rattles something lose in his throat, gives him enough space to speak. "You're my best friend too."

It's different than with Timo and the boys. Obviously Timo is his best friend too, has been since they were kids and Timo moved into his neighborhood. And he'd still say Timo is his best friend, just as you consider him.

But his friendship is different with you. He doesn't even know how to explain it. You know him so deeply, inside and out, and have always loved everything about him. He doesn't really believe in soulmates, never saw any evidence in the world of two people belonging so wholly to each other, but you might be his. How else would the universe explain how he feels about you?

Because best friends doesn't feel like enough even if it's true. And girlfriend doesn't either, so he made you his fiancée, yet that's not enough either, so he'll make you his wife. Somehow he knows that won't encompass everything the way it should either.

Your his soulmate.

"Maybe I was just meant to have you," you say thoughtfully, "like the world used up all my friendships in you."

It's a somewhat sad thought, even if it's sweet.

"I think what we have is something else entirely," Nico tells you, "And I think sometimes it's just hard to find real friends, especially with the life we have."

"What if it's just me? What if I'm unlikeable?"

Nico almost laughs at the ridiculousness of it all. You and unlikeable shouldn't even be in the same sentence. He's never seen anyone dislike you. Even your shitty college friends. They liked you so much they hated him. It's always been obvious that they weren't exactly concerned for your safety running around with him and the mob. Even if that was the excuse. No, they were upset because he was sending private drivers and cars to pick you up whenever you asked, reserving you VIP spots at clubs and bars in Jersey, letting you bring them along even if his boys never showed an interest in any of them

The problem was never you.

"It's not you baby," he swears, "Everyone loves you, especially the boys. Look at how they tripped over themselves to get to you first today. How they dropped everything and went to Switzerland for you, no questions asked."

You make an unconvinced noise. “They’re loyal to me because you told them to be.”

He shakes his head, wondering how you can be so smart but so oblivious at the same time. “Mercer is for sure on your side. He bit my head off in Switzerland for letting you get hurt.”

“He only went with me to get rid of Rino because you told him to pick me." You insist, "And yeah Timo is my friend but he was really yours first.”

Nico doesn't even know what else to say. It's like he's holding a bright neon sign in front of your fac but you won't open your eyes. Baby…”

“Remember when Jack said I only have friends you pay to hang around me?" You ask and Nico scowls. Yes, he does remember that. And he remembers giving Jack the worst shifts and jobs for a whole week after that, because even if it was a joke made during a stupid TikTok, it was too far. "Maybe he was right and that’s fine because it hurts less to have to have to pay for my friends than have them just never choose me.”

You say it so casually, so innocently. Like it's the only right answer, the only thing you fully believe. You've actually accepted this crazy idea that you don't deserve friends. Nico wishes he could track down every painfully moment that led you to thinking that and wipe it from existence.

Instead, he focuses on what he knows he can prove to you, on the things happening right in front of you.

"The girls are choosing you," he says, gently because the last thing he wants to do is scare you away, to make you shut down by insisting you're wrong. "They threw his whole party for you-"

"For us."

"For us," he amends, "but it's still for you too. They're trying to be your friend. I think they just don’t know how.”

You hum, unimpressed. "What do you mean?"

"It's different for you in the Devs, they know that. They know you have to be more careful, have to not be so trusting and I think they don't really know how to get around that."

He's caught your attention with that one, can tell by the way you start to mindlessly fiddle with the hem of his sweater behind his back, thinking. “I don’t know how to either Nico. The only person I’ve ever won over is you.”

Oh, you're so sweet and beautiful and dumb sometimes, Nico thinks lovingly. You didn't win him over because there was never any competition. From the very second he saw you at the Rock, when that perfect smile of yours caught his eye, that was it. He couldn't even put up a fight.

He moves to peer down at you, warmth alighting his chest when you rest your chin on him, look up at him with curious and vulnerable eyes.

“You somehow got Katja to be a mother so you’re a lot more impressionable than you think.” He assures. You get that flustered look on your face, cheeks tinging red and he can't help but trace the little splotches with his thumb.

"I know people sold you short your whole life baby, but you shouldn't. We all love you here, all want you here. It's just hard for everyone to know how to get you to open up. After everything with Philly and then me basically hiding you away, they're just afraid of doing something wrong."

"Probably more scared of you then me." You mutter, a teasing glint in your eye. Nico eases up, muscles relaxing at your playfulness.

"Maybe," he agrees, tucking your hair behind your ear so he can peck a kiss to your cheekbone. "You going to be ok?"

You nod.

"Are we still giving Timo a hard time?"

You hum, thinking and he laughs. "No I guess not, but I'm not saying sorry either."

"You don't have to." He assures, "you weren't mean, just teasing."

Knowing he's lying you giggle, rising to your toes and catching his lips in a kiss. Nico lets you have a few minutes of just kisses and giggles, easing you as much as possible before going back out to the party.

You rejoin the party and if anyone notices your absence, they don't comment on it. He thinks maybe Timo covered for you, because he catches his friends eye across the room, nodding when Timo simply raises an eyebrow.

Just Dance has turned into some kind of Nintendo Sports Golf tournament, most of the boys and kids entertained by the video game on the giant TV. But the girls are still lingering around the tables, chatting idly and sipping flutes of champagne. Nico catches you watching them, sees the nervous rise and fall of your chest.

You can do this, he says internally, sends the good thought your way because he knows you've always had a way of reading his mind. Squeezing his hand, you look to him with pleading eyes. Nico just barely has to smile, tilting his head as if to say go ahead, I've got you baby.

You let out a calming breath, lips curling just the slightest bit and then you're letting go of his fingers, making your way over to the table with Nicole and Nola and some of the others. They greet you eagerly, making room for you around the table and Kristen pours you a flute of champagne.

Nico watches you for a moment, notices the still nervous shake of your hands and the way your smile has gone shy, but you make no move to run. In fact, your letting them tug on your left hand to see your ring, leaning in to talk excitedly with Nola and then he lets himself wonder over to Timo and Jonas.

"Can't believe you gave my best friend away," Timo teases him, holding out a beer for Nico to take. Jonas laughs too, looking over towards the girl and then giving Nico an impressed look.

"Thought it'd take a few more tries to get her to leave your side."

Timo snorts. "More like get him to leave her side."

Nico thinks of maybe defending himself but he can't because he does feel oddly lacking without you. Even if you're just across the room, it's weird to not have you looking at him from time to time, or running over to tell him something, or just to give him a kiss. Not detrimentally so, but enough the he feels a bit awkward, doesn't know what to do the hand that's usually thrown over you shoulder or resting on your lower back.

It's a welcome ache though, worth the slight discomfort, because that night when it's just the two of you again, you tell him all about Nicole going to the rival high school, how she didn't grow up too far from you actually, and Nola wants to try yoga but won't go alone and hates going with Jonas so she's gonna try it with you and Timo.

And he practically kisses you silly when you curl into side under the covers, peeking up at him with wet eyes and a watery smile when you whisper, "I made friends Nico."

~~~~

An overwhelming amount of papers lay across his desk, the cute little knickknacks and framed photo of you and him at a concert last summer wiped away and stacked off to the side to make room for everything.

Nico doesn’t know how you’ll react, if you’ll even want to read through all this stuff but he laid it out for you anyway. You like reading, like analyzing numbers and information like this. He remembers how well you did it with what you so fondly called the Steel Deal. The acquisition of Johnny from the Penguins.

The memory of you, proud and confident when you presented him with that deal -more like surprised him with it actually- because he hadn’t even thought about trying to bring Johnny to Jersey. And he hadn’t thought you’d want to be doing deals for the Devs after Philly. He thought you’d want to keep a low profile.

Instead, after the initial recovery, you jumped head first into training with Timo, into learning anything and everything they were willing to teach you, into tagging along with Nico on routine check ups around the city.

He thinks of that girl, by his side for everything, so certain in her place. It took work but you seemed to find your spot, to find the things you genuinely liked doing for the Devs. He could see the way it eased you, you smiled easier, went through the day happy, knowing you found somewhere you belonged.

And he thinks of the girl he saw at the engagement party a few days ago, how unsure she was, how defensive. He hasn’t seen you like that since those few months stretching between him breaking up with you and coming home from Philly.

You weren’t happy then, weren’t yourself. It was like a shell of the person he knows and loves. You looked small, felt small, and Nico swore then and there he’d never let you feel like that again. He’d always show you that you’re worth a lot more than you think.

But he coddled you too much, and while it’s kept you pretty safe so far, it’s also hurt you. He wrapped you in a safety net and tied it tight, didn’t leave room for you to grow under his protection. Nico didn’t encourage you the way he should’ve.

He’ll spend the rest of his life being your biggest fan.

Starting here. In this mess of papers and contracts and legal documents.

His biggest deal. His smartest decision. This is what he’ll be remembered for. At least he hopes.

Nico doesn’t know where in the house you are, he just knows that you and Timo got back a little bit ago with hoards of grocery bags on your arms. Staring there, he lightly closes the door to his office and makes his way to the kitchen.

He pauses outside the living room, finding you on the couch in a surprisingly darker environment than he thought it’d be. Maybe it wasn’t just a little bit ago that he saw Timo because it’s well past five judging by the darkness outside the windows and his friend is no where to be seen.

You’re laying in the corner of the couch, nestled in the cushions that have gotten overly soft from you and him always favoring that spot. A fluffy white blanket is thrown over your lap, bunched up against your torso but not enough to hide that fact that you’ve got one of his crewnecks on, a soft grey one that has St. Moritz stitched into it with a little embroidered Swiss flag underneath.

Nico’s had that thing for years. Luca had bought it for him when he was about 13 during a birthday trip for Nico. It was on sale because all that was left in size was a 2XL in US sizes but the fabric was soft and Nico kept rubbing his fingers on the sleeve when he walked by it.

Luckily he grew into it and a decade later the thing is still hanging on, even if Nico doesn’t wear it anymore. You wear it plenty though, especially around the holidays and he wonders what about it makes you pull it out every November.

Moose, curled up at your feet on couch lifts his head when Nico moves into the living room. You pull your gaze from the television, looking to Nico and he smiles at the way your eyes go starry.

“Done with work?” You ask, biting at your bottom lip and he feels a little bad for not paying attention to the time, for working late when he didn’t mean to. It’s obvious by your expression that you’ve been patiently waiting for him, not wanting to interrupt him working.

He leans over you, hands sinking into the couch cushions and presses a kiss to your lips. “Need you to come look at something real quick,” he says, then kisses you again.

“Then you’ll be done?”

You’re so sweet, trying to be subtle about wanting his attention. It’s funny that in moments like this, when it’s pertained to work, you’ll be polite, but any other time you get demanding and whiny.

Or mean, he laughs to himself, thinking of you with Timo earlier this week.

“Then I’ll be all yours.” He confirms.

A slow smile takes over your face. Taking that as an agreement, Nico tugs the blanket off of you, tossing it over Moose. The dog doesn’t budge, remaining curled up in the warmth.

Taking your hand, Nico leads you down the hall and to his office. You pause in the doorway, taken aback as you look over the state of his office.

“Did you work from home all day?”

Nico hums, ushering you in with a hand on your hip. “Started the morning at Sötis,” he explains, leaning back against the doorway as you trail further into the room.

“And then came home to do some light reading?” You tease, rounding his desk. Just as he expected, you trail your fingers over the top papers, glancing at all the information laid out.

Briefly, you look up at him through your eyelashes, innocently awaiting his reaction. He wouldn’t ever stop you from knowing important information about the Devils, wouldn’t deny you the knowledge of the business.

Especially not a business that is half yours.

“Go ahead,” he encourages. Not needing to be told twice, you drag his chair over and curl up in it, shifting through the stacks. He’s patient, watching you greedily read every word laid out before you.

He’s not sure which stack you’re currently on but he knows exactly which one is going to make you jump from that chair. The one littered with your name, signed and authorized by him and made legal by his lawyers.

Nico wasn’t exactly keeping it from you. If you ever asked, ever sifted through his desk just for the hell of it, he would’ve been fine with you knowing. It’s taken him months to get it all written up, properly laid out.

But it wasn’t until the engagement party that he officially signed the last bit of his plans. The papers dividing the Devils organization into two halves.

“Nico,” you mumble, a hint of disbelief in your tone. A sly smile curls at his lips, seeing the pinch between your eyebrows and the confusion in your gaze. Under it all though, is a hint of awe.

“What is this?”

He pushes off the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and he plays the fool. “I don’t know. What does it say?”

You blink, look back down at the papers and then up at him. “It says I own Hischier enterprises.”

Trying not to laugh, Nico hums and looks over your shoulder, ignoring the way your craning your neck to look up at him, to find answers in his features.

“Would you look at that,” he says, running his hand through your hair, settling it on your neck. “It sure does.”

He does laugh when you roll your eyes, pushing yourself up from his chair and placing the contacts back on his desk. Taking a hold of his shoulders, he lets you steer him into the chair, kneeing his legs apart so you can settle in his lap.

You collect the papers again, holding them in front of him. “Explain. Now.”

So he does. Yeah he could wait and make you read through it all on your own, realize what he’s been working on for the past few months, but it’ll mean more from him.

Reading it makes it seem like business, like he’s forcing this change upon you. Hearing it from him though, is how it should be. He can explain that it’s not just because, that it’s not just a deal. You’ve earned this, you deserve this.

After everything you gone through with him, this is yours. And come what may, it’ll always be yours.

Nico has officially turned the Devils into a legal entity under the name Hischier Enterprises. The official parent company of the Rock, Sötis, Red Rose Flower Boutique, and more. Every business the Devils have stock in, have partner ownership of, is now under Hischier Enterprises.

Starting January 1st, the newly appointed CEO is none other than Y/n Hischier.

He can see the moment it hits you. When your eyes go all moony and look to him like he might be crazy, like he maybe made the worst decision ever but you still love him for it.

“That’s crazy,” you say, as if your face wasn’t already telling him that. “I can’t run the devils, I mean where are you? Your name isn’t on any of this anymore Nico.”

He pries your left hand off the contract, bringing it up to his lips to press a calming kiss to the back of it. You let out a slow breath at the action, sinking into the arm he’s got wrapped around you.

“No my name isn’t on it. I’m in charge of the other half now.”

Before you can so much as take another breath, he continues, all the while soothingly trailing his thumb up your ring finger until it meets the cool metal of your ring, and then down to your freshly manicured nail.

Your name is on everything because he’s just made the Devils legal through Hischier Enterprises, and he’s done it under the name of someone with a squeaky clean record, someone who has no trace back to organized crime. You.

As for him and the boys, the Devils will remain operational just as they had before. Instead of him juggling both the welfare of their protected companies and the Devs activities off the books, he’ll simply do the latter. You’re now in charge of managing books, expanding investments, and protection. The legal face of the Devils.

Nico and his boys will keep up their under the table deals, their Jersey contracts, the buy offs and bribes. Everything illegal will be kept away from you. In fact the only time Hischier Enterprises will ever technically be doing business with the Devs, will be when Nico feeds money through the businesses to make it clean.

“You’re giving me all of this?” You ask in disbelief. “What about the others? I mean Jesper and Jonas have been around this whole time. Even Timo, he should be doing this-“

“He will be,” Nico interjects “if you want him too. You’ll need a team to join you, and all of the boys know they’re available to you. So whoever you choose will be working under you now.

“I’ve got some recommendations of course. Keep Timo obviously. You two work together better than him and I ever have. I’d like to offer up Mercer too though, give him a bigger role. I think we both know after Switzerland that he’s ready for it.”

Nico gives you a moment to think, to take it all in. It’s a lot, he knows that. You do looked a little more shocked than he thought you would, like you never imagined you’d be this important to the Devils. It almost makes him laugh, how you still don’t get it.

Maybe he’ll be spending the rest of his life still trying to convince you that you’re the heart of the Devils.

Finally, a look of acceptance washes over you. Tucking your hair behind your ear, you sit up straight, taking on an air of leadership.

There she is, Nico thinks. This is the girl that he’s put in charge, the one that knows herself, is sure of herself. The smart girl that took his breath away from the moment she opened her mouth.

“I’ll take Mercer,” you agree, eyes looking at him with so much warmth he already knows he’s going to agree to whatever comes out of your mouth next. “If you keep Jack.”

“Okay,” Nico agrees easily, but you’re not done. Holding up a finger to stop him.

“As your second hand.”

He already knows where this is going. You’re going to take Luke, train him under you, and Nico will keep Jack. They’ve been at each other’s sides since the moment Luke got here, and then he got lost in the mess of cleaning you up after Philly.

Luke’s abilities have taken a back seat, tucked away by his brother acting as boss for the first few months of his time in Jersey. He hasn’t been able to grow and Jack has been held back making up for it.

Separate them and they’ll have room to grow.

Most importantly though, you trust Jack to have Nico’s back. If you and him are going to be running things separately now, if you’re going to be taking some of his men, you’re going to leave the one you know would protect him the way you would. And Jack is that guy.

Just to be sure, he asks, “Jack? You believe in him enough to do that?”

There’s no hesitation in your response. “Yeah I do.”

He nods and that’s that. Come the new year and Jack will begin training to back up Nico.

Pleased, you smile and tuck the papers back into a pile, sitting back into his hold. He presses his thumb into the dimple on your back, tucking you under his chin and giving you time to let it all hit.

He can’t bombard you with the rest, not until you’re ready.

“I can’t believe you did this Nico,” you say after a while, a hint of giddiness in your tone. Chuckling, he flexes his leg to jolt you. Your hand grabs at his stomach, using him to steady yourself.

“You didn’t think all that training with Timo and me was for nothing, did ya?”

It’s out there now. This was always the plan. For years it’s been the plan. The universe threw the smartest, most determined woman in the world in his lap and he didn’t take it for granted.

You were always meant for this.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just trusted you and Timo. Knew it would all work out.”

Nico presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Smart girl,” he compliments, then pats at your hip to get you to sit up. “Something else here for ya, baby.”

He presses his chest to you back, leaning over the desk with you and he points out which files are for which businesses, which stack holds all the information on the boys in case you want to study up on their numbers before choosing. Just as you’d done so beautifully with Johnny. He shows you the folder with potential future investments, the ethical studies and profit profiles on them. All things he knows you and Timo are capable of doing. Will happily do.

Eventually, he gets to the last folder. Slides it across the desk until it sits in front of you, begging to be opened.

Assets.

Nico squeezes your side encouragingly, and your nimble fingers flip it open. Inside lays every document listing every one of his personal assets. The vehicles in the garage, the Suite at MetLife, the jet, the penthouse apartment he lived in when he met you, the house you’re currently sat in, and the one you stayed at all the way in Switzerland.

At the top of every single one is your name.

Signing that last one over was a trick, because he needed another Hischier witness to sign alongside him. But Luca was more than happy, even if he did grill Nico a bit about sighing all his property and worth over to you.

Add it all up and it’s still not worth her, Nico had said in explanation. It went unspoken but they both knew his intention.

You get it all and Nico gets you.

“You didn’t,” you gasp, slamming the folder shut. Like it won’t be true if you can’t see it. “Nico you did not take your name off of everything.”

You shove the file back across the desk, tucking your hands between your thighs and he laughs. He didn’t really know what he was expecting reaction wise but wigging out like this wouldn’t have been high on the list.

“Sure I did,” he says, casually. “As soon as we get married it’ll be half mine again anyway.”

Shaking your head, you lean back into his arm to get a better look at him. Nico smiles, ignoring the judgmental gleam in your eye.

“Why did you do this?”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean why did you do this? We’re getting married and like you said, it would have been half mine then. So why sign it over now?”

You’re not angry, not upset him but there’s something there he can’t quite place. Almost like you’re waiting for a bomb to drop, for him to admit there was some ulterior motive here.

In a way, there is, though it’s not in the way you so obviously think it is.

“Everything but the house in Switzerland was under your name since the moment we bought this one.” He admits, meeting your unwavering gaze. You’re waiting to see if he’s lying, if he’ll give away something else. There’s nothing to give away though, and you tilt your head with curiosity when you realize he’s not hiding.

“After Philly, I wanted you to be safe. I told you that I’d always take care of you, and I did.”

You blink, unrelenting and he smiles a bit. He wasn’t lying when he said you’re the smartest person he knows but once again, you won’t look at what’s right in front of you.

If there’s one thing he’s learned to do since meeting you, it’s how to speak his thoughts. It doesn’t always come easy, but when you’re looking at him with those Bambi eyes, it’s simple.

He explains that the little work he did in the months after Philly was signing his assets over to you. He knew it would all be yours one day anyway so why not now? It was what’s best.

Because him putting your name on those papers provided you with everything you’d ever need. In the event that something ever happened to him, that he wasn’t fit to be boss anymore, that he somehow didn’t make it home to you, you’d never have to worry. You’d have the homes, the card, the money, and most importantly the Devils.

In the event of Nico doing something stupid like dying, you’re the new head of the family.

“You’ve been thinking about that?” You ask incredulously, “Since then?”

Nico nods, like it’s no big deal. Because it isn’t. This whole time, the endgame was you. Everything he is, everything he has, it’s always been yours.

“I told you when I got you back that I was making sure I was ready for you, prepared for you.” He says, fingers finding the chain on your neck. Pulling it out of his hoodie on your frame, Nico fiddles with the pendant and ring. “I don’t live the safest life, I know that. So if something ever happened to me, I had to make sure you’d be taken care of.”

You’re silent and Nico looks up to see your reaction, pauses when he realizes you just watching him with glossy eyes, bottom lip bitten between your teeth

Finally you blink, shaking your head softly. “You’re stupid if you think you could just up and I die and I wouldn’t have any say in it.”

It’s impossible, not that either of you say that. Actually if Nico thinks about it, you might just have a say in it. You’re so stubborn, so capable, maybe you could drag him back from the afterlife.

He leans in to touch his lips to yours, smiling against them when you run your fingers through his hair, cradle his face so gently. “No need to worry then.”

“Can’t help it,” you murmur, the words hot on his mouth “I worry about you all the time.”

Nico pulls back at the heaviness of your tone, searching your face to see what happened to the sweet girl that was holding him just a moment ago. Instead you look concerned, lips drooped in a frown and eyes rounded with sadness.

When he doesn’t say anything, you press on. “I don’t want any of this stuff if I don’t have you Nico. It’s not-“

He kisses you, locking his fingers around your throat in that way he knows makes you go boneless. This conversation wasn’t meant to make you teary, to make you upset at the thought of him not being here with you. But he can’t not have a plan in place.

He wouldn’t be able to live with himself, knowing he left you unprepared. Vulnerable.

“Good thing I’m not going anywhere then,” he says into your lips, your fingers pressing in tighter on his scalp, hanging onto his every word.

Nothing could ever take him away from you, not without a fight.

Hours later, with the documents on his desk forgotten and the office door locked tight, you bring it up again.

It’s too early to be watching a Christmas movie but you’ve got a Charlie Brown Christmas playing on the tv, the only light in the living room coming from the flickering flames of the fireplace and the flashes on the screen.

Moose is sprawled out on the carpet, too close to the fire for how thick is fur is and that’s evident in the way he occasionally pants and squirms to a new cool space on the floor.

Laying against his chest in that corner of the couch you two love, you tilt your chin to look up at him. Nico thinks about making a joke, teasing that he can see up your nose or that you’re gonna get a crick in your neck.

The serious look in your eye stops him.

“What about the boys?” You ask, quiet and Nico strokes his hand up and down your arm.

“What boys?”

“The Devs boys,” you explain “The ones that have been with you since the beginning. You wouldn’t give it all to them instead?”

Nico had the talk with them, wanted to give them all a chance to plead their case. Jesper didn’t have one, just wanted to make sure Sötis was still his. Jonas only wanted to keep his job and his home with Nola.

As for Timo, he asked for nothing. His friend that had every right to demand it all, didn’t demand anything. He just smiled at Nico with that knowing look, like he knew this whole time that Nico would give the Devs to you.

“They agreed,” he says carefully. The last thing he needs is you panicking again, realizing that all these people have your back and freaking out on him. He’s still working on easing you into being real friends with them.

“They just agreed?” You ask, shifting to look straight at him instead of upside down. He already knows what you’re thinking. The boys know the business better, helped him build it. Why shouldn’t they run it?

“They all know and agreed that you’re in charge after me. Even if you didn’t know what you were doing at first, they all agreed they’d follow you.”

Timo’s condition to Nico signing everything over to you. It wasn’t so much a condition as it was a promise, but him and Nico one by one made sure all the boys were okay with the plan.

They’d teach you everything, and Timo would make sure you stayed safe and protected.

You don’t say anything. Just settle back into his chest, tugging his arm so that it rests heavy over your chest, your arms hugging his bicep. He’s not sure how much of the movie you actually watch, that thoughtful wrinkle between your eyebrows the whole time but when he takes you up to bed, you sleep soundly.

Knowing you’re protected and safe. Always.

~~~~

“Nico,” you whine, annoyed and begging. Your tone, on the edge of alarming, has him setting his phone down and looking up to you in concern.

Across the island, you stand with both hands held out in front of you, a kitchen knife hanging limply in your fingers. At first he thinks you’ve cut yourself, especially when he gets a good look at your face and sees tears trailing down your cheeks, eyes angry and red.

“Baby,” he gasps, jumping up from the tall chair and rushing around the counter. You drop the knife, let it clatter to the cutting board where a half chopped pile of onions lay.

“What?” He asks in confusion, because there’s not a drop of blood anywhere. Getting a better look at you, noticing his sunglasses haphazardly pushed onto the top of your head, he realizes what’s going on.

“I can’t cut the onion,” you pout, another tear rolling down your cheek. Your fingers reach up to swipe at it and he yelps to stop you.

“I got it,” he says, shooing your hands away and wiping at your cheeks with his own fingers. “Close ‘em,” he instructs, then carefully swipes at your wet eyelashes to dry any remaining tears.

Bleary, you blink your eyes open and he nudges you towards the sink. He waits for the sound of the water running before taking up your spot at the counter, fingers diligently swiping the knife through the remaining chunks of onion.

“You’ve got eyes of steel or something,” you grumble, fingers tangled in a dish towel as you come over to watch him. His sunglasses slip down your forehead, catching crookedly on your nose and he snorts in amusement.

“S’mental game,” he says gruffly, standing up taller and flexing his arms and chest. The move makes you giggle, tossing the towel at the side of his head and he ducks, letting it fly straight over him and onto the far counter.

You roll your eyes, his sunglasses now tucked in your hand. “You just have to be good at everything, don’t you?”

Turning your back to him, you return his glasses to their spot on the counter by the garage door, right under all the car keys. He laughs at your dramatizing, scooping up the diced onion and dropping it into the pan you’ve got warming on the stove.

“Not dinner,” he says, swiping away any remains of the vegetable and going to wash his hands. “So you can take over again.”

Not needing to be told twice, you go back to the cutting board, wrinkling your nose at the lingering burning scent of the onions.

“Will you start making a list of groceries for Thanksgiving?” You ask him sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him when he slumps back into his chair with a huff.

The holidays have always been a big deal to you. You plan them for weeks, every little detail from seating cards to the layout of the table. He never really cared for them too much, at least not Thanksgiving since he doesn’t really understand the politics of the holiday and whether or not he should be celebrating it. But you’re American and you enjoy it so he goes along with it.

It’s about family, you always told him. Traditions and being together is what makes you all a family. Nico didn’t have a lot of that until you came around so if making lists and cooking for hours and hanging leafs and placing cornucopias and eating chocolate turkeys is about family, then sign him up.

He’ll still grumble and huff about it though, mostly just to get to you.

“Don’t be like that,” you beg him, laying slivers of chicken into the sizzling pan with the onions. “You love Thanksgiving!”

“I love all the food,” he corrects, which is true. Between him and Luke, there’s never many leftovers for you guys to choke down the whole week after Thanksgiving. And while you’ve never had a problem with how much Nico eats, this is one of those holidays that he doesn’t have to feel too bad about consuming twice as much food as everyone around him. It’s the spirit of the holiday.

“Which is why you’re in charge of writing it all down,” you chirp, hand on your hip as you peer down at the stove with a pair of tongs in hand.

He always teases you for being weird about cooking chicken, but you have some phobia of getting salmonella and insist on watching the meat cook thoroughly with your own two eyes.

“You’re better at planning, ya know?” He says, but he’s already making a new shared note on his phone, listing the basics; turkey, stuffing, potatoes, etc.

“Ok, Mr. I-Already-Have-My-Will-Written-Out,” you mock, shooting him a teasing look over your shoulder. “Besides, you better get used to it because I am not planning our wedding by myself.”

The words just slip out. “I already started that.”

The kitchen goes silent for a moment, only the sizzling of the stove breaking the silence. Nico blushes, looking up from his phone and to his horror you’ve abandoned your watchtower overlooking the chicken.

“What?” You ask, lips curling into a shocked smile.

He shrugs, playing it cool. “Just small stuff. Some color ideas and like flowers. Maybe the time of year, that stuff.”

“When did you start doing that?”

Nico doesn’t want to admit that he’s had his mind on this for months, worries that maybe you’ll admit you hadn’t thought about it. That you’ll think it’s weird for him to have thought so much about it.

Dropping his gaze, he rushes out an explanation. “I uh saw something on Pinterest that made me think of you so I saved it and then all of sudden I just kept adding stuff.”

He hears the stove click, looks up from his phone again to find you crossing the kitchen towards him. You’ve got that moony look in your eyes again, cheeks just a little pink and warmth blooms in his chest, shy and sweet.

“What colors?” You ask carefully, stepping behind him. He’s about to complain, about to pull you into his lap but then your hands are rubbing over his shoulders, slipping down the front of his chest and you lean heavily into his back.

It’s a nice feeling, shielded. Almost how you hold him that night in Switzerland, after his brain warped his old childhood nightmare into something worse. Warped him into his father.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, tilting his head into yours when you press an encouraging kiss to his temple. “I thought maybe light blue and white? I know white like a wedding basic but the blue looks nice with it.”

He can feel you smile. “Yeah it does,” you agree, “baby blue? Like the hydrangea flower?”

Nico doesn’t know what flower that is. It is a baby blue though, more inspired by one of the pretty summer dresses you have. You wore it to brunch with him once, brand new and so perfect it looked like the designer had you in mind specifically when they made it. And you just looked so good he couldn’t help it, picturing you holding a baby blue bouquet in a white dress.

Then Pinterest read his mind because two days later he had baby blue wedding themes on his dashboard. He saved it, took it as a sign.

“Yeah I guess,” he says, enclosing his hand around yours, pressing them into his chest. “Is that-do you like that color?”

You kiss right beside his eye, a fluttering touch of your lips that makes his skin tickle. “Yeah I do,” you agree, “you look good in those soft colors too.”

Heat crawls up his neck, blooms in his face and he chuckles, flattered. “Thought you liked me in black?”

“I do,” you hum, “s’not my fault you look in good in everything. And nothing.”

Nico snickers, turning to press his nose into your cheek. “Nude wedding out of the question?”

“With all the boys there?” You say with mirth, “are you sure?”

Nico makes a face. Maybe just you and him then. An elopement, something small and intimate.

No that doesn’t sound right. The people you love should be there, the people that love you too. You deserve to walk down the aisle with every eye on you, knowing that today, it’s all about you.

“Fine,” he mumbles, “you can just flash me real quick before you walk down the aisle.”

A happy laugh bubbles out of you, girlish and giddy, so contagious it makes him laugh too. You bury your giggles in his shoulder, hair tickling his face and he strokes over your hand until you look at him again.

“Deal,” you nod, gaze shifting over his face like you’re trying to memorize everything about him, like you’re seeing something new there. Something better. Suddenly, something serious settles over your features.

“Nico,” you whisper, timidly “What if I have no one to invite? My side of the church will be empty.”

A church? Nico didn’t think you’d care for getting married in a church. He certainly doesn’t. He could use that to change the subject, to deflect away the dampened mood brought on by this question.

But this isn’t something he can ignore. You don’t talk about your family very much either, not that he ever wants to hear about them. To him, they’re scum, lower than scum. They’re the worst of the worst for the way they treated you and they don’t even deserve to be on your mind let alone spoken.

He’s wants you to be open though, to be accepting of love from people other than him. He can only do that by sorting through this. Through the much.

“Are you kidding?” Nico replies, keeping his words light. “No way the boys are picking my side over yours. Let’s see how many of them ask to be in your bridal party.”

You’re not deterred.

“Who will walk me down the aisle?”

Quick questions, quick answers. He doesn’t even have to think about it. It’ll always come down to whatever you want.

“Whoever you want to baby. If you want it to be me, I’ll do it. If you want it to be one of the boys, they’ll do it, if you don’t even want the fucking aisle I’ll get rid of it. Whatever you want to do.”

He can see the beginnings of a smile curling at your lips, amused at the idea of him removing an aisle from the wedding. You could do it too. Just come from around the crowd with him, meet in the middle in front of everyone. Just you and him.

“And my family?”

“We’re right here with you baby,” he promises, knowing that’s not exactly the family you’re asking about. He just needs you to know that no matter what, the Devils are family. “But if you want to invite them we can do that too.”

You make a face, like you don’t really want to but maybe you’ll think about it. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, he’d imagine. Not letting your parents know their only child is marrying. Even if they don’t show up, you can still invite them. That way they at least know.

“Really?” You whisper and he nods, squeezing your hand.

“Whoever is supposed to be there for you, will be there. I’m sure of it, baby.” He’ll make sure of it.

You lean in, place a grateful kiss to his lips. “I love you Schao.”

“I love you darling.”

Nico’s tilting his head to kiss you again when his phone buzzes on the countertop, the sound synching up with the chime of your phone in your pocket. Confused, you both pull back to check his screen.

It’s a text from Jack, sent in a group message with both you and Nico, as well as Luke. They never text just him when it’s out of work hours, knowing he’ll likely not check his phone. Unless it’s a phone call to his work phone, he doesn’t need to talk anyone but you.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, and Nico gets a good look at the text, echoing your words.

Quinn invited us to Vancouver after the holidays! And you guys too because Luke said he won’t go without Nico :)

[shadyufo]

Chicken photo dump <3

The Babies — Buttercup, Honey Bee, Moose, and Mink — are all grown up now! Moose and Mink the Easter Eggers have outstanding beards and mutton chops and Buttercup and Honey Bee the Buff Orpintons are fabulously fluffy.

Even though they are all at least twice as big as little old lady Olivia she is still the boss of the coop—see the last photo of her standing tall and getting after Moose, haha.

[airandyeah]

Sins (Alpha Geto X Omega Gojo X Omega Reader) Part.10

My Masterlist Series Masterlist Warnings: Obvious A/B/O dynamics, fated mates, suggestive comments or actions, just generally Minors DNI-just in case. This will be similar to Pink Pony Club, where I just mark every chapter as 18+

After a much-needed rest and a full day spent cleaning up the chaos Satoru had left behind, things slowly returned to normal—or at least, as normal as life could be with two mafia bosses as mates.

Suguru and Satoru were back to work, disappearing for long hours, leaving you alone in the apartment. At first, you didn’t mind it too much. You caught up on rest, enjoyed the quiet, and even spoiled Moose with extra attention. But as the days passed, the silence became heavier.

The loneliness settled in your chest like a weight.

The absence of their warmth, their teasing remarks, their constant presence—it left you feeling restless. You found yourself wandering aimlessly through the apartment, checking your phone too often, waiting for messages that only came sporadically.

Even when they were home, they were distracted. Suguru was always on the phone, answering calls with a sharp tone, his expression unreadable. Satoru, while more affectionate, was just as preoccupied—always texting someone, constantly slipping out to “handle something.”

And you hated it.

You knew this was their life. You knew they couldn’t just drop everything to stay by your side. But that didn’t make it any easier.

One evening, after another day of being alone, you sat curled up on the couch, scrolling through your phone aimlessly, trying to ignore the ache in your chest. The apartment felt too big without them.

When the door finally opened, you looked up quickly, only for your excitement to fade as soon as you saw them. They were both exhausted—Suguru rubbing his temple, Satoru letting out a heavy sigh as he kicked off his shoes.

Neither of them greeted you like they usually did.

And for the first time, you felt like an afterthought.

As the days stretched on, you found yourself retreating further and further into the sanctuary of your own room. The shared bed—the one you used to fall asleep in between them, wrapped in their warmth—now felt suffocating. It was as if their absence loomed even larger in that space, where once it had felt like home, like safety.

You couldn't stand the quiet anymore. The bed, which should have been comforting, felt hollow and cold without their presence. And so, you moved to your own room, claiming the space as your own again, even if it felt emptier now.

You spent hours lying there, staring at the ceiling, lost in dark thoughts that refused to leave you. The loneliness gnawed at your mind, turning simple moments of quiet into endless, swirling spirals of doubt.

Was this what your life was going to be?

They had made their choice to be with you, yet all they seemed to do was pull away. You understood the demands of their world, the weight of the mafia business that consumed them, but it didn’t make it any easier.

In the quiet of your room, you let yourself feel the hurt. You let it fester in the darkness, ignored it when it crept into your thoughts during the day. But at night, when everything else was still, the emptiness swallowed you whole.

You tried to avoid them when they came back, pulling the covers over your head, burying yourself under pillows. You didn’t want to face them, didn’t want to acknowledge the distance between you.

But it was inevitable.

One evening, you heard the faint sound of footsteps outside your door, followed by a quiet knock. It was followed by the slow turning of the doorknob.

“Suguru,” you murmured, barely lifting your head. You didn’t even care to pretend you were asleep anymore.

He stepped inside cautiously, his dark eyes scanning the room. “You’ve been avoiding us,” he said softly, his voice low and gentle.

You didn’t say anything, staring at the wall.

Satoru entered behind him, his usual carefree smile gone, replaced by something more serious—more concerned.

"Hey," Satoru said softly, his voice quieter than usual. "Talk to us."

You stayed silent, not trusting yourself to speak. The lump in your throat felt like a stone, and your chest was tight with emotions you didn’t know how to voice.

Suguru crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes soft as they studied you. “We’re here,” he said quietly, his hand brushing against your knee. “You don’t have to be alone. We’re not going anywhere.”

You finally looked at him, the anger, the hurt, the confusion all mixing together inside you. “I know you’re not. But you’re not here either.” Your voice cracked at the end of the sentence.

Satoru stepped forward, sitting beside you on the bed. He reached out, gently brushing your hair back from your face. “It’s not the same, is it?” His voice was quiet, understanding.

Suguru’s fingers curled around yours, his grip firm but gentle. “We’ve been busy, but we haven’t forgotten about you. We’ll make this right, I promise.”

You wanted to say something, to push them away, but the warmth of their presence—so close, so comforting—had you frozen. You felt weak, vulnerable, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from them.

It wasn’t easy, but you let them pull you into their arms, wrapping yourself in their comfort, allowing them to soothe the ache that had taken root in your chest.

And for the first time in a while, you felt a spark of something other than loneliness. ~~~ The night had fallen like a blanket of darkness over the city, and as the cool breeze swept through the alleyways, the weight of their task weighed heavily on them. Satoru and Suguru walked side by side, their steps sure, their minds focused. Their every move was deliberate, calm, as if they’d done this a thousand times over.

The remnants of the enemy mafia group had been causing trouble for months now, hidden under the guise of being wiped out after Hiromi’s push to imprison them. But the truth was, like most things in the underworld, things were never as simple as they seemed. A new figure had stepped in as their leader—someone with a hunger for power, revenge, and a bloody trail to carve through the city. And they were standing at the apex of it all.

They had taken their time, meticulously gathering information, waiting for the right moment to strike. Tonight was that moment.

“You know they’ll come for us again after this,” Suguru murmured as they approached their target—a high-end, heavily secured warehouse on the edge of the city. His voice was calm, collected, but there was an edge of something in his words that hinted at the deep weight of their actions.

Satoru didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he adjusted his gloves, his eyes sharp with the anticipation of what was to come. They were ready. Their forces, their planning, everything was in place. This was the final step in eradicating this threat once and for all.

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Satoru finally replied, his voice low and laced with a confidence that bordered on dangerous. “They won’t make it out alive.”

Suguru’s gaze flicked to him, and a small, almost imperceptible nod of agreement passed between them. There were no words needed. They were in sync, like they always were, their bond forged in blood and shared history.

As they entered the warehouse, the world seemed to slow. Each step echoed like a drumbeat in the silence of the night. There was no hesitation, no fear. Just the cold precision of two men who had built a reputation on destroying those who threatened what they held dear.

The warehouse was a maze of shadows and metal, the air thick with tension. The sounds of the enemy’s movement were faint but unmistakable. They were in position, surrounded, but still unaware of the predators that were about to descend upon them.

Suguru gave a subtle glance to Satoru, who nodded, his signature grin playing across his lips. They’d done this a thousand times, but something about tonight felt different. It wasn’t just about cleaning up the streets. It was about sending a message.

No one would touch what was theirs.

They moved together in seamless coordination, like an unspoken dance, both taking down enemies with brutal efficiency. Gunfire rang out, sharp and rapid, but they were faster. Suguru’s hands were steady as he knocked out two of the men, while Satoru flashed forward in a blur of motion, disarming another and sending him crashing into a stack of crates.

The chaos was brutal, violent, but the satisfaction of it was undeniable. The fight felt almost effortless to them—an extension of their very beings. They were built for this, molded by years of bloodshed, power, and the will to dominate.

As the final few men fell, Satoru paused for a brief moment, catching his breath. The adrenaline coursed through him, his body humming with the energy of the kill. His eyes, sharp and cold, scanned the room, making sure there were no more surprises lurking in the dark.

“Cleaned up pretty quickly, huh?” Satoru said, his voice almost playful despite the carnage that surrounded them.

Suguru smirked, stepping over a fallen body. “Always do. No one gets the best of us.” He paused, eyeing the final figure who had attempted to flee. The leader. "This one's yours."

Satoru’s lips curved into a dangerous smile as he turned toward the last man standing. The leader, a well-dressed figure with a frenzied look in his eyes, seemed to freeze, realizing his inevitable fate.

“No one runs,” Satoru said softly, his voice a stark contrast to the chaos around them. “Not from us.”

It was swift. A few moments later, the man lay crumpled at Satoru's feet, a final, pleading look in his eyes. It was over. The last remnants of the enemy mafia group had been eradicated.

The two men stood side by side, breathing heavily but unscathed. The warehouse, now eerily silent, echoed only the distant hum of the city.

“We’ll need to clean up,” Suguru muttered, his eyes already scanning the area, thinking ahead. But despite the grim work they’d just finished, there was a certain satisfaction that lingered in the air between them.

Satoru, his grin now replaced with a look of grim determination, turned his eyes to Suguru. “Yeah. But I’m thinking about something else right now.”

Suguru’s brow furrowed, and then it hit him—the thoughts of you, the one thing they couldn’t push from their minds, even in the midst of their ruthless business.

"Let's go home," Suguru said quietly, his tone softening.

Satoru gave a small, knowing nod, the two of them turning to leave the warehouse. The mess of bodies would be dealt with, as would any lingering threats, but there was something else that was on their minds now. You. And the need to return to you.

You had been waiting. ~~~ She woke up slowly, the edges of her vision still blurred from sleep, the remnants of her dreams lingering like an echo. The bed beneath her was warm, the faint scent of both Suguru and Satoru wrapping around her like a comforting cocoon. For a moment, she simply lay there, disoriented, before the soft sounds of footsteps and murmured voices reached her ears.

Her eyes fluttered open, only to find the room dim, the early morning light still filtering in through the curtains. She could feel the familiar presence of them nearby—Suguru’s calm, steady aura, and Satoru’s sharper energy, like a crackling fire that never seemed to fade.

Groaning slightly, she rubbed her face with her palm, trying to shake off the fog that clung to her mind. The scent of them still clung to her skin, lingering like a mark of ownership, something that had become a permanent part of her existence. She shifted slightly in the bed, hearing the soft creak of the mattress as both of them walked into the room, their movements purposeful yet laced with a tenderness that made her heart skip.

Satoru’s voice cut through the silence, low and teasing. “Did we wake you, sweetheart?” He stood near the foot of the bed, a faint bruise visible on his cheek, but his smile was as radiant as ever, the playful glint in his eye unmistakable even as he appeared slightly worn from the night’s work.

Suguru, on the other hand, hovered beside the bed, a more serious expression on his face, though his eyes softened when they met hers. He was tired, she could tell, but there was also something else in his gaze—something possessive, protective. He seemed more aware of her needs than his own. “You okay?” he asked softly, as though he could sense her unease even without her saying a word.

The overwhelming exhaustion from her restless night seemed to hit her all at once. She tried to smile, to brush off the lingering tension in her shoulders, but it was hard. Everything about this situation—their world, the business they were involved in, the constant danger that hovered in the background—always left her on edge. Even if they were back now, safe for the moment, she couldn’t ignore the weight of it all.

Satoru raised an eyebrow, noticing her hesitation. He stepped closer to the bed, his eyes scanning her with an almost predatory intensity. “Something on your mind, princess?” he asked, his tone not quite teasing but more like he knew exactly what she was thinking.

Suguru shifted next to her, his hand gently brushing against her hair, a comforting touch that contrasted with the tension Satoru radiated. “You’ve been quiet since we got home,” he observed softly, as if reading her thoughts.

She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes, the weight of the world threatening to drag her back into exhaustion. “Just... tired,” she muttered, but the words felt hollow, like she was trying to shield them from her true feelings. She didn’t want them to know that the silence that had settled over her was the result of the anxiety building up in her chest.

Suguru reached for her hand, his grip firm but gentle. “Hey, you don’t need to hide anything from us,” he said, his voice soothing. “If something’s bothering you, you can tell us. We’re here. Always.”

Satoru watched them both, still standing by the bed, his arms crossed over his chest, though his gaze softened as he looked at her. His presence was like an electric current in the room, impossible to ignore. “We’ve got this. Whatever it is, we’ve got you. You’re safe with us.”

For a moment, she was quiet, caught between the overwhelming pull of their concern and her own swirling emotions. The words she wanted to say seemed stuck in her throat, her mind a whirlwind of doubts and worries she wasn’t sure how to express.

But then, as if to break the silence, Satoru took a step forward, sitting down at the edge of the bed, his hand reaching out to gently cup her face. “Don’t overthink it,” he murmured. “We’ll always take care of you. You’re ours, and we’ll protect you from everything, no matter what it takes.”

Suguru’s hand slipped around her waist, pulling her close enough for her to feel his steady heartbeat against hers. His lips pressed softly to her temple, a quiet promise. “You’re not alone in this. We’ll figure it out together. Just let us help.”

Her heart thudded in her chest as their words settled into her, warmth and reassurance seeping through the cracks of her guarded heart. The heaviness in her chest eased slightly, the tension of the past few days melting away in the comfort of their presence.

With a deep breath, she nodded, though a small part of her still felt lost, unsure of everything that was happening around her. But, at that moment, she let herself relax into them, allowed herself to fall into their embrace as they held her, as they always did. Safe. Secure. Protected.

Satoru’s smile returned, bright and teasing, though there was a hint of sincerity beneath it. “Good. Now, let’s get you back in bed. You need rest.”

Suguru chuckled softly, his hand rubbing her back soothingly. “You really do need rest. We can take it slow for now.”

She nodded again, this time a bit more firmly, her eyes fluttering shut as the last of the tension in her body began to dissipate. She wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but for now, all that mattered was the warmth of their touch, the steady rhythm of their breaths, and the feeling of being exactly where she needed to be.

In their arms. ~~~ The morning was still heavy with sleep, and the room felt warm, too warm. You shifted, burying your face in the pillow for a few extra minutes, unwilling to leave the cocoon of softness around you. The air smelled faintly of them—Satoru’s usual teasing warmth and Suguru’s deeper, quieter scent. You could almost feel the weight of their presence still hanging in the room, even though they were both long gone.

It wasn’t until the sound of running water broke through the haze of sleep that you became aware they’d already gotten up. You blinked, the faint grogginess in your head clearing as your attention sharpened.

The unmistakable sound of water rushing through the pipes filled the quiet house. The bathroom door was ajar, and you could just hear the low murmur of their voices, muffled by the sound of the shower.

Satoru’s voice—playful and teasing—cut through the noise. “C’mon, Sugu, don’t be shy. You know you want me to scrub your back.”

Suguru’s reply, soft but clearly amused, followed shortly after. “You just want an excuse to get all over me, don’t you?”

You could picture them in there so easily, like a scene you had witnessed countless times before. Their ease with each other, the affection in the way they bickered, always so natural. You could almost hear the way their bodies brushed against each other as they moved under the warm water.

Your heart raced, and you cursed yourself for the warmth that crept to your cheeks. You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but the sounds from the bathroom were so... intimate, so undeniably theirs, it was impossible to ignore. You told yourself to stop listening, to give them their privacy, but the moment you tried to distract yourself, their voices pulled you back in.

“Don’t pretend like you’re not enjoying this,” Satoru said, the tease in his voice turning more suggestive. “It’s hard not to, right?”

Suguru’s laugh followed, low and deep. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

There was a silence, but the air seemed to grow heavier, charged with the intimacy of it all. You imagined their touches, their closeness, the way their hands must have slid over each other in that confined space. You could almost hear the sound of water falling, their bodies moving, and it made your breath hitch.

You swallowed hard, feeling that familiar rush of heat rise up inside you. You were no stranger to their bond, to the way they shared everything, but hearing them like this, in this moment, stirred something inside of you that was harder to ignore.

Your heart beat faster as the sounds continued, and you wondered if they knew how much their voices affected you, how hearing them so raw made your mind spin in ways you hadn’t expected.

It wasn’t until the sound of the water turning off and the shuffle of their feet on the bathroom tiles that you realized how long you had been listening. You quickly pulled yourself out of bed, trying to shake off the feeling of unease, but there was still that tug, that undercurrent of desire you couldn’t quite silence.

You debated for a moment whether you should go back to your room or stick around. When they came out, they’d probably want to go on with their day, and you’d be left to figure out the mess of feelings swirling inside you.

Just as you were about to walk away, you heard Satoru’s voice again, and this time, it was more serious. “We don’t have to rush today, you know? We can just... take it slow.”

You bit your lip, wondering just how far they’d go with the teasing, how much of it was really just playful. A part of you wondered if you could step in, if you could close the distance between you and them—join in somehow.

You froze at the thought.

Were you ready for that?

Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe you were already too deep into this connection, too tangled in the need to be close to them, to pull away now.

Still, you didn’t know if you could just walk into that bathroom and join them, like it was the most natural thing in the world. But the more you listened, the more that sense of longing gnawed at you.

Before you could make up your mind, you heard the sound of the shower door sliding open. You quickly turned away, heart racing. You stood up, deciding to go make something for breakfast instead, you stepped into the main room. The sudden change in the air was almost immediate.

You barely had time to register the movement before you felt a strong grip on your arms, jerking you back into someone’s chest. A cloth pressed against your face, and your body froze in shock as the scent hit you—something sharp, chemical, and overpowering.

You fought instinctively, trying to break free, but the arms around you tightened, holding you firmly in place. The panic shot through your veins, and you gasped, trying to pull away. You couldn’t see the face of the person behind you, but their strength was unnerving, and the cloth seemed to be working faster than you’d expected.

Your thoughts were hazy, clouded, and you felt your body growing heavier, your movements sluggish as you tried to pry the cloth away. Your hands weren’t cooperating, your vision beginning to blur at the edges.

"Stay still," a low voice murmured against your ear, calm and almost too steady for the situation. It was a voice you didn’t recognize, rough and foreign.

A cold fear spread through your chest, and for a moment, everything felt muffled, distorted. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—only the overwhelming desire to fight this feeling, to tear away from the grip that was pulling you under.

But then, as the darkness edged in, you caught a familiar scent in the air. Satoru's, Suguru’s—both of them. It was like a thread pulling you back to reality, the suffocating pull of panic fighting with the soothing warmth of their presence.

The cloth was slipping from your face, and a rush of air filled your lungs. You felt the grip on your arms loosen for just a second, and then—then the world went dark. ~~~ When you woke, it was the smell of leather, blood, and something else—familiar yet wrong—that filled your senses. You blinked, trying to focus through the dizziness clouding your head, and when your vision finally cleared, you were in an unfamiliar room.

Your hands were bound to a chair, your body stiff and aching. You couldn’t make sense of what had happened, but something told you this wasn’t over. You were sure of that.

And then, the door creaked open.

Satoru’s voice, rough and strained, pierced the silence.

“Don’t you ever do that again.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t know if it was from relief or dread.

Through blurry eyes, you saw him—Satoru—standing there, his eyes darker than usual, a black eye still forming beneath the bruises on his face. Suguru stood beside him, equally battered but more controlled. Their expressions were grim, focused, and yet there was something more. Something darker.

“You’re safe now,” Suguru added softly, his voice much more calm than the situation warranted. “But don’t think for a second we’ll let this go unpunished.”

Satoru stepped forward, his steps slow, deliberate. He looked down at you with a gaze that was almost calculating. “You’re ours,” he murmured, voice low, almost possessive. “You’re ours. Don’t forget that.”

You wanted to say something, to protest, but the words died on your tongue as you looked at them—looked at the raw intensity in their eyes.

And then, just as quickly as it all began, everything clicked into place. They’d been watching over you in their own way, their bond with you something deeper than you’d initially realized.

The danger was real. But so was the connection.

And in that moment, as Satoru’s fingers brushed the hair away from your face, you realized—this wasn’t just about them keeping you safe. This was something far beyond that.

They were marking you in every way they could.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to gather what little clarity you had left. Your heart was still racing from the panic, and as your senses started to come back, a feeling of anger slowly bubbled up inside you. They were angry? At you?

Your voice was rough, shaky, but your words were clear.

“What the hell are you two mad at me for?” You snapped, the frustration leaking into your tone. “I was just trying to make breakfast, and then—then someone grabbed me! It wasn’t even my fault!”

The words tumbled out faster than you could stop them, a flood of raw emotion you hadn’t realized you’d been holding back. The last thing you needed right now was to be yelled at, especially when your heart was still pounding in your chest, and your head was swirling with all the questions you didn’t have answers to.

Satoru’s gaze darkened for a moment, his jaw tightening. Suguru, however, stepped closer, his expression softening slightly, as if trying to calm the situation.

“We know it wasn’t your fault,” Satoru said, voice low but laced with an edge. “But you should have stayed where we left you. You shouldn’t have gone out there alone.” He moved closer, his body just inches from yours, and for a moment, you could feel the raw, protective instinct in his presence.

Suguru stood a little further back, his arms crossed, still radiating that steady calm, though you could tell his mind was ticking over, assessing everything.

“It’s not about you making breakfast,” Suguru said, his voice far quieter and more rational, yet still tinged with that dangerous edge that you couldn’t quite place. “We left you in bed for a reason. To keep you safe, you could’ve been—” He cut off, his mouth pressing into a thin line, and you saw the concern and frustration in his eyes.

Satoru stepped in then, crouching in front of you, his intense gaze locking onto yours. “You could’ve been hurt. And we wouldn’t have been able to protect you in time.”

It was clear now—this was why they were upset. It wasn’t about the breakfast, or about you doing something wrong, but about you stepping out of the bounds they had set for you. They were angry because they couldn’t keep you safe when you stepped outside of their control.

The anger drained from you, replaced with confusion, frustration, and something deeper.

“They were here for me,” you muttered, more to yourself than to them. “But why? What do they want with me? Why didn’t you just… handle it?”

Satoru’s eyes flashed for a second, the air around him tightening.

“They don’t just want you,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “They wanted to make a statement. To us. And they were going to use you to do it.”

Suguru’s expression hardened. “We’ve been trying to clean up the mess left by that damn mafia group. But there are always going to be people like them, trying to poke at us, trying to take what’s ours.”

Your throat felt tight, the weight of their words pressing down on you. "So... I was just a tool?" Your voice cracked as you spoke, the realization settling into your chest.

Suguru's eyes softened, just a little. "No. You're never just a tool to us. But they don’t know that. And if they think they can use you to get to us, they’ll keep coming."

Satoru’s expression softened just enough that you could see the concern behind his usual cocky front. “We’re sorry. We should’ve made it clear just how dangerous this situation is. You’re not in danger because of what you did. You’re in danger because they want to break us, and they’re going to try everything to do it.”

For a moment, there was nothing but silence, the weight of everything hanging between you three.

You rubbed at your temples, suddenly overwhelmed. “I get it, okay?” You bit out, trying to shake off the fog of panic. "I get it. Just... don't be mad at me. I didn’t ask for any of this."

Suguru’s eyes softened, and he stepped forward, his hand resting on your shoulder gently. "We’re not mad at you, sweetheart. We’re mad that we couldn’t protect you. And we’re going to make sure it doesn’t happen again."

You let out a slow breath, your heartbeat starting to steady. They were angry, but it wasn’t at you, exactly. It was at the situation. At themselves. You could understand that. But that didn’t make it any easier.

Satoru was still crouched in front of you, a soft smirk finally tugging at his lips. "Don't do that again. Or I’ll tie you to the couch next time. You’re ours, remember?"

Your cheeks heated up, a mix of embarrassment and frustration hitting you all at once. “Yeah, yeah. I remember.”

Suguru chuckled lightly and squeezed your shoulder. “We’ll talk more about this later. But right now… you still need a shower. And you’re going to stay right where we can see you.”

You felt your heart thud against your chest as Satoru’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he stood, pulling you up gently. “Yeah. Breakfast can wait. We’ve got more important things to do.”

And just like that, despite everything, there was something comforting about the way they took charge again, pulling you back into their protective bubble. You weren’t sure what was going to happen next, but you knew one thing for sure—they weren’t going to let anything happen to you. ~~~ The weight of everything felt heavy, suffocating even. You stayed in your room after that, pulling the door closed behind you with a soft click, as though the small barrier could protect you from the chaos swirling around you. You sank into the bed, staring at the ceiling, your mind racing through the events that had unfolded.

There was so much to process. The men who had grabbed you, their threats, and now the realization that you weren’t just some bystander in this world—they were involved in something much bigger than you had ever imagined. Mafia. Betrayal. Violence. All of it had been lurking just beneath the surface, and you’d been caught right in the middle without even realizing it.

You let out a long breath, trying to push away the nagging feeling that was gnawing at your insides. Part of you had wanted to run, wanted to leave and never look back. But then there was that pull, that nagging sense of belonging. You were here with them, whether you liked it or not. And no matter how messed up it felt, no matter how much fear bubbled in your chest at the thought of what they did for a living, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was your life now.

And then there were them.

Satoru and Suguru. They were the center of everything, both the cause of the chaos and the ones who made you feel... safe. Wanted.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t scared. You had no idea how far this rabbit hole went. The more you learned, the more you understood how much danger they—you—were really in. And there was a part of you that questioned your place in all of this.

Your fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of your blanket, and you tried to shut out the thoughts spinning in your head. You needed time to think, time to breathe. Maybe that’s why you had retreated to your room after everything.

A knock at the door broke you from your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t move right away. You couldn’t. You weren’t ready to face them again, not yet.

The door creaked open, and a familiar voice, one that always seemed to come with a mix of care and authority, filled the space.

“Suguru.”

You didn’t need to turn to know it was him. His presence was comforting in a way you hadn’t realized you needed. He stepped in quietly, his movements smooth, and there was a hesitation in the air—like he wasn’t sure whether to push or just let you be.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice soft but firm.

You closed your eyes for a moment, exhaling slowly before finally sitting up, crossing your legs beneath you. You didn’t want to talk. Not right now. But you knew he wouldn’t leave until you did.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I think we need to.”

Suguru walked in, his long, controlled steps never faltering. He shut the door softly behind him and sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes meeting yours as he studied you carefully. His expression was guarded, but you could see the concern in his eyes, the same concern he always had for you, even if you couldn’t always understand it.

“We didn’t mean to scare you,” he started, his voice low. “But we need you to understand how dangerous everything is right now. We can’t afford to let our guard down, and we don’t want you to be in the middle of it without understanding what’s at stake.”

You nodded slowly, your gaze not leaving his. “I get that,” you murmured. “But it’s hard. You never told me any of this, Suguru. I didn’t know what I was walking into when I came here. I’m trying to process all of this, but it’s... overwhelming.”

“I know,” he said, reaching out to gently touch your arm. His fingers were warm, comforting, but you could feel the tension in his touch, the same way you had felt it from the both of them earlier. “But we want to make sure you’re safe. We need you to understand what we’re up against. And that we need you with us. Not just because you’re our mate, but because you’re a part of this, now. You’re a part of our world.”

You looked away, biting your lip as you tried to hold back the swirl of emotions threatening to take over. This was the reality now. There was no going back.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

Suguru’s gaze softened, and he leaned forward, his thumb gently brushing your cheek. “You don’t have to be. We’ll take it slow. But you can’t just shut yourself away from us. You’re not alone in this, and you never will be.”

You closed your eyes at his words, the comforting weight of them settling in your chest. But despite how good his words made you feel, doubt still lingered. Doubt about your place in their world, about the danger that seemed to close in every time you let yourself breathe.

“I’ll try,” you said softly, meeting his eyes again. “But I need time.”

Suguru nodded, giving you a small, understanding smile. “Of course. We’ll give you the time you need. Just know we’re here when you’re ready.”

He stood then, his hand lingering on your shoulder for just a moment before he turned to leave. But before he reached the door, he paused, looking back over his shoulder.

“And… if you need us, don’t hesitate to ask. We’re always here for you, no matter what.”

With that, he left, the door clicking shut behind him. You were left alone with your thoughts again, the weight of everything still pressing down on you. But for some reason, his words lingered in the air, a promise you couldn’t quite escape.

You weren’t sure how you were going to process everything yet. But you were beginning to realize one thing for sure: you couldn’t face it alone.

Taglist is always open for anyone! Just comment, send an ask, or a DM and I'll add you! Taglist: @purpleicing , mini-kunoichi , @gravity-valley , @jinjen , @c0quin , @makingtimemine , @asweetblueberry2 , @vyxte I think that's everyone who asked to be tagged, I apologize if I missed anyone!!! Perma-tags: @thenightperson

[theadhddimsenion]

Why I want millie and loona to be the "losers" of season three.

We all know that blitz moxxie and stolas have all been through the wringer when it comes to their character development and I think that it would only be fair that as blitz, mox and stole complete their arcs the butt monkey statis moves away from them and onto the girls as they go through their arcs.

I'm not saying I want them reduced to helpless damsels in constant need of rescue but I would like to see them fail a bit more so we can see their more fallible sides.

People are already complaining that the i.m.p team need tougher oppents they can't easily beat and that millie and loona are underutilized so I think having them become the "weak links" in the i.m.p as their arcs go on will be fitting.

Like for example we could have millie getting increasingly upset at being left out and her pregnancy starts to throw off her fighting skills.

And we could have loonas lack of field experience cause her to make poor choices and as a result she gets her ass kicked.

Now with all this talk of butt monkey statis I think that contrary to what some might say I don't think moxxie needs anymore lessons for his arc I think he's gone through enough no what he needs is something where he gets to SHOW his development by doing something really cool and/or mature. I actually came up with an idea for a episode where moxxie and loona are stranded in the human world and loona is injured so she has to rely on moxxie for support and unlike in pervious episodes loona is actually the butt of the joke and moxxie is the smart and competent one.

The whole thing is about loona learning that it is ok to put your trust in people and you don't have to judge people based on superficial strength because moxxie has proven that his strength lies not in physical power but in being probably the best strategist i.m.p has the problem being that he is both often over cautious and can't get people to repect and listen to him like blitz can.

So the whole episode is mostly comedy at loonas expense with her constantly being comically injured and humiliated and her failed attempts at doing things herself undermine moxxies actual competence like for example loona tries to get some fresh venison from an overly disney like deer but it turns out to be a huge elk or moose and it's whole herd chases after her trampling moxxies freshly finished cabin. At one point she gets stuck in her feral from and perved on by a pack of feral wolves and is unable to escape until moxxie saves her and after hours of being unable to care for herself loona finaly admits defeat and accepts moxxies help bitterly.

Now right here moxxie has the opportunity to get her back for everything she has said and done to him and never let her live it down but here comes the big mature moment I was talking about. Instead of being petty and rubbing her nose in her failures he does the mature thing and actually starts to relate to her when it comes to his own experiences being the universes chew toy.

If there's one thing moxxie has learned by now it's that trying to make people feel lesser doesn't make you feel greater in the long run. Let's face it moxxie was kind of a negative Nelly when it came to his profession, he was always the first to try and put his boss down even when blitz did nothing to provoke him and we all saw the horror show of unhappy campers. So I feel that moxxie is in ironically a really good place to help loona with that.

Now we can't let moxxie have all the good moments can we? So let's talk about some opportunities to show off character development for my boy blitz.

The first one I had in mind was for him to actually have to try and help veroskia for whatever reason wether it's cause she needed rescue from the dhorks or some other villain, needed help dealing with glitz and glam or even because she discovered she had a half human son and needed parenting advice whatever the case I think it would be cool if just like moxxie can share his life lessons with loona blitz could help her understand that he knows better than anyone the danger of holding onto the past and refusing to forgive yourself better than him.

Another idea is him having a real father daughter moment with loona where she asks him why he hasn't thrown her out even after all she's done to him. And he answers that he loves her and when he saw just how miserable she was in that pound he saw himself and he wanted to be the good parent he never had.

Hell I just thought up a way for stolas to help millie! I mean yes stolas has only just begun his arc but I think he would know the dangers of keeping secrets from people considering how he lost his daughter for that very reason and plus I've heard that owls can tell when other animals are pregnant and for a double bonus blitz can return the favor by helping millie by pointing out that there was no way someone like moxxie would ever hate her for her desicon regarding the child I mean it's moxxie we are talking about here.

In short the point I am trying to make here is that this show often uses physical and emotional suffering as a way of bringing out character development and I think it's only fair that the female cast members get that treatment.

[hallmarkdestiel]

This one is about one of my favorite ships. Sabriel is the relationship between Sam and Gabriel. Now I know what you’re thinking.

“But he tortured Sam in the Mystery Spot episode by killing Dean over and over again.”

I get it. That’s a valid point. But here’s the thing. Sam and Gabriel have similarities in their storyline. The younger brother who just wanted out so he ran away. He wanted to be free. I’m not sure how to do this. This is hard. The point of Mystery Spot was that Gabriel was trying to prepare Sam for Dean’s death. Oh and the fact that he played ‘Heat of the moment.’ By Asia which by the way, is a LOVE song.

‘I never meant to be so bad to you

One thing I said that I would never do

A look from you and I would fall from grace

And that would wipe the smile right from my face’

Those are the first words in the song that played every morning. Gabriel was apologizing to Sam for doing this. He was trying to make a point but clearly this wasn’t exactly the best way to do that. I should probably add in here that Sam knows how Gabriel feels and what he went through in hell. They both shared the same trauma. By that, I mean they were both tortured in hell. Oh and they both have trauma due to Lucifer. If you consider the fact that Gabriel was killed by his own brother. (Or well we were meant to think that for EIGHT years.)Gabriel stayed back with Lucifer at the hotel, telling the Winchesters to leave with Kali. He stayed behind in the AU world with AU Michael. Do you ever think about the fact that Gabriel stayed behind twice because he KNEW he was going to die? He knew he wasn’t going to survive and not only that but when Sam begged him to bring Dean back, Gabriel did (Sam gave him the puppy dog eyes. The power that he has.) Even back at the hotel, he looked at Sam first before he looked at Dean. Oh and here’s something else. You know how Castiel says, “Hello Dean. Sam.”

Gabriel said, “Sam... Dean.”

Also the fact that Richard Speight Jr himself thinks that Gabriel is a good Guardian Angel for Sam. Gabriel is the Angel of Monday and what was Sam born on. Yeah. You guessed it. A MONDAY. In the Thing, Sam was the only one that Gabriel let touch him. He wouldn’t even let his own BROTHER touch him. Sam sat there with Gabriel. He was patient. He was so gentle taking the stitches off. If you watch the whole episode, when Gabriel is with Sam. That is the ONLY time he blinks. Plus everyone knows that saying “I need you” is the Winchester way of saying “I love you.” Now I know what you’re thinking.

“But that I need you belongs to Destiel!!!!”

No. It doesn’t. It can apply to other ships too. Sabriel is just another parallel to Destiel. And I can tell you why. In Exodus, when Sam dies, Gabriel blames himself. He blames himself because he couldn’t do anything. He’s low on grace, practically human and he couldn’t do anything to save Sam. Then when Sam came back, he stood up and he couldn’t even believe his eyes. Sam was alive. And don’t even get me started on the whole leader of Heaven thing. They made this whole big deal about Gabriel being the leader of Heaven.

“Get off my moose!”

And before that, when Asmodick came back in the bunker to steal Gabriel back, that Boss hog wannabe hurt Sam and Cas and faced the wrath of a VERY pissed off Archangel. I forgot to talk about tall tales. The first time they met. The way they looked at each other is just like how Dean and Castiel look at each other. It’s obvious that Gabriel had a crush on Sam. He’s a trickster. He’s messing with Sam and doesn’t know how to handle it. Changing channels. He constantly screws with Sam. Mystery Spot. Again, he doesn’t know how to deal with his crush on Sam. Oh and did I mention that Gabriel straight up flirted with Sam? He literally said, “Don’t let anyone ever tell you that you’re just a pretty face.”

I think that’s all I can think of for now.

[ratsoh-writes]

Well now I gotta know about this for everybody... (I dare you to try and tell me Basilisk doesn't prefer trapping S/O in his coils when cuddling)

Ehehehe for anyone curious, the ask is are they the big spoon or little spoon when cuddling?

Born to be a big spoon but their soul says little spoon. Will tear up if you offer to be their jet pack lol: rust slim boss butch pepper pesto pitch possum Ollivander Hilda fossil vibrato slugger

10000% little spoon. Perfect size, build and adorable face for it. Was just made for this life: sans red mal cash lord G salt gold quill roost mango papaya saga Barin fisher finn stitches tinker pudding gem stein tempo gears compass Pluto lens

Total little spoon, but also rolls over so sometimes winds up as big spoon by accident: rhythm pop snipe butler arwin Jasper Victoria dice

Who tf cares, just hold them. Cuddles in any form is good cuddles: honey basil coffee charm sugar sparks weasel swine foxglove

Prefers to be the big spoon but can be coaxed into being the little spoon with enough pretty words ;): edge mutt green bruiser cigar crow periwinkle

Was clearly meant to be a little spoon but shook their fist at fate and said they take the wheels. They’re more of a jet pack than a big spoon but it works: Star ace Flambe Colby dandy Alden taffy thistle Helios

Classic big spoon material. No complaints here: papyrus lilac wine lush sir peaches cider barley Ram filly hook captain sails yarrow Jupiter artemis atlas orion cricket gamble

Is literally peak big spoon. Nothing else compares. You’ll feel like you’ve been wrapped in a blanket sent down from Heaven: oak willow noir rancher moose maple harpy Pearl silex Seth basilisk magma tremor steel

[lululandd]

antics; (ii.)

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader

wordcount: 700+

warnings: fluff

note: if simon is a cat he’d be orange (also on AO3)

summary: simon pranks reader back

part i. | part ii. | part iii.

Meese yowled in one long continuous tone, waking you up in a panic. You grabbed your phone to take a quick look at the clock before rushing outside to see what’s happening to your little spoiled cat. The last time he yowled like this he brought home a big leaf and the wind blew it away and he won't stop crying for a whole day, lamenting the loss of his leaf under the couch.

The little bastard meowed quieter—like the true drama queen he is—as you walked closer. You see him pawing at the front door, persistently meowing until you get close enough, before making figure eights around your legs with his tail up.

“Calm the fuck down, Meese.” You heard your neighbour on the other side of the door. You grab your kitty and hold him in your arms before opening the door.

You were greeted with a sight of your neighbour in a dark hoodie with a matching dark facemask, holding a stack of two tupperwares in one hand

“Uh.. Hi?” You offered.

He held the containers up higher, “Cooked something for you and the boy.” He said in favour of a hello. The concern in your face must have shown because he continued, “I looked up online what cats are not supposed to eat, and left some herbs out. Didn’t even salt his portion.”

You were surprised at the generosity and thoughtfulness of your neighbour. He was practically a stranger, and yet here he is, cooked salmon in hand. Thanking him profusely, with an offer to come in that he rejected, he gave Meese a little pet on the head and scritches under his chin before leaving.

When you opened your tupperware, you saw he had cooked herbed salmon with roasted baby potatoes, drizzled on top was some kind of fragrant oil—you had guessed it was truffle—and two little quartered pieces of lemon. He’s very fancy.

Opening Meese’s container however, you see a gigantic piece of salmon, like twice the size of the one in your container.

Wait, did he put the wrong fish in the wrong box?

Knocking on his door with both boxes in hand, he opened the door without his mask on, and this would be the first time you see the lower half of his face without a mask. You were taken aback for a little while before he spoke up, snapping you out of your momentary pause.

“Yeah?” He looked down at you and then at the containers. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was waiting for you, considering how quickly he answered the door.

Pushing the tupperwares higher so he could see the clear sides of it, you asked if he had accidentally mixed the fishes up.

He terribly hid a shit eating grin, “Nah. I didn’t. Made sure of it.”

“You’re smirking!” You point an accusatory finger at him, laughing when he does. His smile lines compliments his crows feet and you couldn’t help but to match his wide grin.

He moved to the side, “Come in. Get you some more salmon.”

This time it's your turn to refuse an invite to come inside. “Oh, no. I’m not here to ask for more food or anything, just wanted to make sure it wasn’t a mix-up.”

“Wanted to get you back for the whole meese situation.” He confessed.

“Pardon?”

“When you told me his name. You said Meese is plural for Moose. Told my boss that and embarrassed myself.”

This is what you had actually wanted to happen in the first place, for someone to fall for that trick, but damn you felt guilty that he probably got laughed at by his boss and co-workers.

“Sorry.."

He waved you off, gesturing at the tupperware with a smile. “Got you back, didn’t I?”

“Umm…?” You blink slowly at him. “I embarrassed you in front of your boss… so you… cooked… a delicious meal for me and my cat..?”

His face turned bright red, “Well, since you put it that way it does sound like you got me both times.”

It’s almost endearing how he thought he got you back, seeing the time and effort he put on cooking those dishes.

You repaid his kind revenge by bringing Meese over to his place more often.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s1 episode 21 "tooms" thoughts

now i may have accidentally learned what happens in this episode before i watched it which is why i try very hard to not peek at other blogs BUT. the episode certainly still delivered. return of the lizard man!!! i had forgotten about his yellow lizard eyes and shapeshifting. charming fellow.

anyway it's only been a few months since lizard man eugene tooms broke into scully's house (i think, time is confusing in this show) but they say he has been SUCH a good boy it's time for him to be released. to which i say: was breaking into her house not a massive deal? it is written off as "misplaced anger"... the fuck?!?

and scully is being reprimanded by her bosses, who say her reports don't play by the rules! but she shuts them up with her successful conviction rate. yeah of course they aren't playing by the book they're hunting bigfoot???

mulder testifies at his hearing because he spent 3 years working for the behavioral science unit profiling serial killers. now i feel that in any case involving an attack on scully, he's not the most objective guy to bring to the table. and he sure wasn't!

he openly claims that tooms is a hibernating century old lizard monster. ah, mulder, your honestly is refreshing and underappreciated. the judges think he is crazy.

scully rolls up and basically says that he also sounds crazy, to which he replies "i don't care how it sounds as long as it's the truth'' self-image be damned! spooky mulder wants answers (love his ongoing dedication to Truth as an overarching theme throughout this show. big fan)

scully just got yelled at by her bosses for not being by the book enough so she's hesitant to get involved, and mulder came out of the gate with a banger line here:

"look scully, if you're resistant because you don't believe, i'll respect that, but if you're resistant because of some bureaucratic pressure, they've not only reeled you in, but already skinned you" <- i gasped and said "get her ass" (sorry scully but i agree with him just this once!)

tooms picked up a dead rat and then licked his fingers which is Normal Behavior!

he also saw a pretty woman and began shifting into Lizard Mode, but before he could strike, mulder is on the scene! he asks tooms to help him find his elkhound named heinrich, which he uses to hunt moose

(now, to me, this line revealed some key information: fox mulder was DEFINITELY a theatre kid who took improv games VERY seriously. because where else could that even come from?)

old man says he knows where the body from the 1930's murder is and this is not treated as suspicious but shocker! he's right!

this moment also gave us scully in a big ol' coat and safety googles, which was entirely a look <3

next mister eugene tooms stakes out the house of a businessman, where mulder has followed without authorization... he begins to sneak in through the sewer to come and get the wife! who was distracted by her baby! to which i wrote the following:

"NAUR HE'S GONNA COME UP THROUGH THE TOILET NOOOOOOO don't have kids they will distract you from the lizard man climbing up your toilet to eat you"

solid advice i think we all can apply in our daily lives

(i also noted that mulder looks very at home in a shady alleyway but we don't need to analyze that right now)

then i wrote "i really hate this lizard man" which speaks for itself

scully shows up after mulder has spent 3 straight days in his car. she says mulder, your car fucking stinks. i will bring you a sandwich. you haven't slept in 3 days. let me take over.

he says he doesn't care about his career!!!! he just doesn't want her to break the rules and get a mark on her file by getting involved in an unauthorized stakeout!!!! what!!!! fuck!!!

WE GET OUR FIRST TIME SCULLY CALLS HIM FOX!!!! he laughs at this and said he even made his PARENTS call him mulder so she adjusts herself and says mulder, she wouldn't put herself on the line for anyone else AUGGHHHHHHHHH MELTING INTO A PUDDLE. THERE IS A PUDDLE NOW WHERE ONCE I STOOD.

she brought him a sandwich but he says "if there's an iced tea in that bag, could be love"

(love? the subject of love, spoken between OUR mulder and scully? at this very hour, by a man delirious from no sleep? i held my breath)

"must be fate", she says, and hands him a root beer <- LMAOOOOO the writers got my ass with that one... i fell entirely for their trap

before she heads for the stakeout he SO earnestly tells her that at 11:30 there is a sports talk radio show and leaves her with the silliest smile like :) which DID cause me to giggle. ugh he's SUCH a nerd.

but noooo the lizard man is in his caaaaar!

scully brought some magazines for her stakeout. once again NEED to know what she is reading in her free time.

cut scene back to mulder's place. whyyyyy does this man SLEEP on his COUCH?? have we investigated THAT mystery??? oh fuck he looks sooooo cozy though

lizard man cut his own face to frame mulder which made me GAG EWWWWW

their bosses say mulder has been forbidden from anymore tooms investigating since he has been framed for attacking him... they tell him to take a long vacation and he was very close to getting fired... aughhh i mean i DO want to see him take a vacation so we can get our beach episode but! stop being mean to him :(

the doctor assigned to deal with lizard man seems so nice only to get eaten. sad!

mulder IMMEDIATELY gets back on the case after the newest murder despite being told maybe 5 minutes ago his job is on the line. lol. lmao, even.

they go to the site of lizard man's old nest which is now a fancy building and mulder takes off his jacket and tie to crawl in the vents. okay but he didn't have to make it sensual. but he did. without trying. it was probably the last thing on his mind. and here we are. everyone say thank you mulder <3

sewer man ATTACKS in the SEWERS! a likely place for him to be.

LMAOOOOOO THEY KILLED HIM WITH AN ESCALATOR i knew that was gonna happen but did it make it any less funny? no!!!!

the episode ends with mulder staring at a caterpillar in a cocoon and he says that a change for him and scully is coming... okayyy cryptic <3

(i would have expected them both to be heavily triggered by the sight of a cocoon but they seem well-adjusted)

so there was no addressing of the previous bug incident from the last episode which i expected but was a little disappointed by because the bugs cocooned them and i wanted to see what that fallout was. alas i have come to accept the timeskip format

(but like. aren't you curious about their quarantine? how long it took for them to feel better? what the recovery procedure was? no? just me? well alright then)

it was a good episode! glad we got to see mulder's improv skills, our first (and maybe last?) time scully called him "fox", more sleeping on the couch, an end to lizard man's reign of terror, and their undying loyalty to one another that i drink in like ambrosia. and i only have 3 episodes left of s1!!! what could those cryptic last words to the caterpillar mean....? we must stay tuned to find out!

[pinchinschlimbah]

Continuing from my previous post let's talk about the queercoding and themes in Dick Turpin episode 3! So first off, I had previously said I was hoping we'd get to hear more about Honesty's backstory since I was having a hard time identifying what his deal was, and I was delighted to find out this episode that the reason he needed less help finding himself than the other two is because he's got parents who are actively and enthusiastically supportive of his- and I use this phrase very intentionally- alternative lifestyle :)

In direct foil to this, the other main theme of the episode is Wilde's relationship with both himself and his son. Wilde is so caught up in the old fashioned, violent, and oppressive life path he's gone down that he views it as the only path and that anything less is failure. He prides himself in this toxic masculinity, and in the exchange Wilde and Dick have about it, Dick notes that Wilde seems insecure explicitly about not being the "big boss" in charge, and possibly implicitly (unbeknownst to Dick thus far) that Wilde's boss is a woman who has power over him. Just as we saw with Dick and his father in the first episode, Wilde seems to be resentful and embarrassed of his son for not living up to his expectations of what a man should be- he expresses frustration and dismissal towards Christopher for being too soft and not the violent criminal mastermind Wilde wishes his son to be, but also expresses that he feels Christopher is too fragile to be exposed to the world without his father's protection and therefore shouldn't be given the chance to have his own experiences. In response to Wilde explaining that he expects Christoper to follow in his tough guy crime boss footsteps, Dick remarks "what if he wants to be an artist....or a barista...or an artist who works as a barista" which you cannot tell me isn't deliberate queercoding!!

In the later conversation between Dick and Wilde, Dick tries to find common ground between them as they each list their interests and we're shown the divide between staunch seriousness and compassionate enjoyment, toxic masculinity vs joyful flamboyancy. During the eventual moment of vulnerability from Wilde, he admits that he feels like the joyful parts of him have been drained away by the society he exists in, and only the serious and evil parts are left over. Dick, who by his own self-confidence and unabashed authenticity has clearly evaded this same fate despite seemingly experiencing a similarly conservative upbringing, remarks that that's a really bleak way of existing, and encourages Wilde to spend more time with his son and enjoy the world around him. Wilde, to his credit, does actually work toward following this advice! Meanwhile, Christopher (or as Nell calls him, which feels significant to all of this in that so much of Noel's work casually has no regard for traditional perception of gender, "Jennifer") once left to his own devices ends up bonding with the gang and admits that he himself wants to be a highwayman. He becomes particularly attached to Moose, arguably the most queer-coded (and I wouldn't be surprised if it becomes more explicitly stated later in the show given how he's been portrayed so far) character in the show- arriving in London twirling in his dress and being excited about dancing, flamboyant hats, and the theatre. After Christopher gets to spend a day with someone who encourages his flamboyance and sense of joy and fun rather than expecting him to be someone he's not, Christopher seems changed for the better and more sure of himself, and once he's reunited with his father who has been on his own journey of learning this lesson, the episode ends with the indication of them moving forward together towards a more compassionate, accepting, and happier future. Anywayyyy, I love this silly little show so goddamn much already. Stay tuned for probably more in the coming weeks!

Editor’s note: I just realized I forgot to address that Dick’s first choice of disguise was a female character and that the fight club leader reacts to her as a pretty lady but also like….do I even need to point that out? Standard par for the course for a Noel media hahaha

[mikkomacko]

Him and I - 15

Order of Affairs

Mob Boss Nico Hischier x reader

Warnings: Mentions of death/faking death, mentions of depression, cursing, smut

A/n: Thank you all so much for reading! And for commenting and reblogging and sending asks. I absolutely adore chatting about this story with y’all and I’m so happy you care enough to want to discuss. Enjoy this chapter and new phase of our Mob babies!

Previous Chapter

____________________________________________

The kitchen buzzes with the unintelligible hum of the men in the other room, all of them gathered for the early morning meeting session Nico called a few days ago after your visit to the cemetery. Later than he would’ve preferred but things needed to be planned out, Timo needed to return home before he could make any big moves.

Jack’s overly excited voice rises above the others, flowing into the kitchen and you can’t help but smile to yourself. When Luke first told you that they always called Jack by the name of Rowdy growing up, you didn’t even have to question it. Bright and early on a Wednesday morning and he sounds like he’s at Disneyland.

“Black coffee? That’s not a good sign.”

You gasp at the familiar voice, abandoning Nico’s plain, bitter coffee on the counter in favor of whirling around. Timo is standing there, having just coming in through the garage door and even though it was only two weeks without him he looks different. Fuller maybe, happier for sure.

“You’re home!” You screech, and he laughs as Moose comes barreling in at the noise. Racing the dog across the kitchen, you wrap your arms around Timo and he does the same, squeezing you tightly. Moose sniffs at his pants and shoes.

“Worst trip of my life,” he says, jokingly. “2 weeks without you? Never again.”

Of course it wasn’t the worst trip of his life. He’s practically glowing from the inside out but the sentiment warms your heart anyway.

“Ugh I missed you so much.” You say, pulling back from him. He ruffles your hair, shoving you back towards the island so you can finish making your morning tea and add sugar to Nico’s coffee. Even though he told you not to.

He leans against the counter, turning up his nose at Nico’s mug. “He’s so stressed he’s abandoned creamer again?”

It’s a known thing between you two that when Nico has a lot going on, when he’s been dealing with something as stressful as the situation with your family, he gets laser focus. Focus that will apparently be hindered by any kind of sugar in his morning caffeine. You think he’s a little dramatic though and you hate kissing him after he’s had black coffee, the bitterness lingering on his breath, so you sneak in some sugar anyway.

“I don’t even know if he’s stressed,” you admit, “it’s more like he’s just so angry that this is all he cares about.”

Timo gives you a knowing look, “you mean you’re all he cares about.” Shrugging, you don’t verbally confirm his statement but the pleased smile you can’t contain says enough. Nico’s lost you too many times before and he’s not about to let it happen again at the hands of another family member.

“Seriously though,” he continues, playfulness gone as you mix in sugar cubes to your own cup of tea. “I mean this was a lot. Even if you’re going to downplay it for his sake or whatever. Your parents are fucked for what they did and I’m sure whatever Nico is doing is justified.”

Dropping a couple cubes into Nico’s cup, you shrug. “I know it’s justified. I’m the one that approved it all.” The kitchen goes still, your gaze locked on where you’re stirring the sugar around the mug. The only sound is the drag of the spoon and the chatter of the boys in the other room.

Timo ducks his head down, catching your gaze with a giddy smirk. “You approved it all? Really?”

“Well don’t be so surprised,” you scoff, “I beat you and Nico in Switzerland didn’t I? Besides, he promised me then that I get to have a say in getting back at people who hurt me so.”

Timo snickers, totally pleased and when you meet his gaze with a shy grin he’s beaming so wide his smile looks like it’s about to fall off the sides of his face.

“Thank god,” he laughs, “I was thinking I’d come home and you’d be going rouge again. Hopefully taking me with you this time.”

You roll your eyes. “I could never go completely rouge on Nico, you know that.” He gives you an imploring look and you sigh. “Of course I’d invite you this time Timo.”

He reaches across the island to ruffle your hair. “I’d go with this time, just for the record.”

“I think Nico would too,” you laugh, “but tell me about Switzerland! How was Amelia? Is she going to come visit?”

Timo doesn’t get the chance to respond. Nico is in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he nods back towards the dining room. “He can tell you later. Meeting is starting.”

You both stand up straighter at his tone, shifting from playful to all business. Timo purses his lips, motioning for you to go first and you do, Nico’s coffee in hand while yours sits on the counter to cool. You hand it to him as you pass, pressing a kiss to the harsh line of his clenched jaw in hopes that it eases him a little bit. His features don’t relax, but he pats at your side appreciatively. Him and Timo share a brief hug in greeting, the three of you lining up at the end of the table packed full of every Devils mob member.

Nico takes a sip of his coffee, setting it on the table top and the room falls quiet, Jack and Luke waving at you from their seats just to the left of Nico. You smile, wiggling your fingers back at them as Nico clears his throat.

“I know this is a different look to our usual meetings,” he begins, hands on his hips. “And I know you all know what that means.”

The hush that has taken over the room feels heavy, strained by Nico’s confirmation that this isn’t just a regular weekly meeting. It was obvious from the nervous chatter earlier that they did in fact know something was up. Nico has never moved a meeting to a private location. That’s only done when there’s a shift from the normal practices and laws of the Devils. When Nico first explained to you how their meetings work, he’d briefly mentioned his ability to move meeting locations. He’d only ever do it when he needed something to stay entirely between him and the Devils. It’s used for extra protective measures that way when Nico changes rules or protocols, he can insure it stays within the group. It gives them a cushion of surprise against an enemy.

You don’t know if the boys are aware of who this enemy is today. Of course the ones that had been with you that day know, but you have no clue what Nico has told the others. Maybe he hasn’t said anything and that’s why so many of them eagerly lean forward, hanging on his every word.

“There’s going to be some changes for the time being. I don’t have a timeline on how long you’ll have to abide by them but you will follow everything I say today until I give word.”

He pauses for a moment to let it sink in, the words hanging in the air far more grave than they should be. Alex catches your eye, his eyebrows pinched together in worry and you give him a reassuring nod. Nico has to be serious for this because it is serious. He’s not trying to scare Alex or any of the boys, he just needs them to know that this is important.

“The following protocols are to be memorized and used 24/7. Meaning you’re all on shift, always. Even when you’re at home, you keep them in practice, got it?”

A chorus of agreement comes from the table. Nico eyes them all for another beat before continuing, his tone not as barking anymore. His eyes stay dark and observing through, his jaw still clenched. The knuckles of his hands are white where they’re gripping his sides.

“This first one is the most important and I want no arguing or negotiating on it,” Nico sends Alex and the Hughes boys a pointed look. “Y/n is with me at all times. If either of us have to go in for work, we go together. Other than that, we’ll be running everything out of the house here.”

Alex gives you another worried look but doesn’t attempt to argue or question Nico. You have a feeling he’s waiting though until it’s just you two and him. He’d never question his boss in front of everyone, but he will ask his guardian after they’ve all left.

“With that in place, Timo is taking over all face-to-face business with Hischier Enterprises. Everyone under that side will report to him in person and follow what he says. For matters that absolutely require y/n, you come here or do it over the phone. Unless I say so, she won’t be at the penthouse. And you’re all still in charge of wellness checks and emergency signals without her. Timo will work out a schedule with you guys.”

Timo takes a step forward, pointing a finger at the line of boys that work under you and him. At his gesture, they all sit up a little straighter.

“Merc you’re with me now. All the second hand stuff you were doing before is the same, it’s just you’re my second hand for now.”

Your best friend steps back in line with you and Nico, Mercer’s gaze falling to you questioningly. Amused, you step up now, nodding at him.

“Keep training under Timo,” you tell him, “have his back the same way you did with mine. As for the rest of you…”

The three boys wait with wide and expectant eyes, intently waiting for instruction from you. “Johnny and Alex will stick together on all assignments, and while you’re technically still under the Enterprise, you’ll be following special orders from Nico and I. You’ll report here every morning instead of the penthouse.”

Just like you thought he would, Alex relaxes back into his seat, features softening into an almost pleased smile. Luke, however, has put together that with you out of the day-to-day picture, he’s now the odd man out, and his desperate gaze reflects that.

“You’ll be back with Jack,” you tell him, “the two of you will split time between handling some things for Timo and me, and handling other tasks on Nico’s side.”

Your fiancé steps in then, a heavy hand finding your lower back as he moves to your side. Addressing Jack, he says, “You’re going to have to step up a bit, do more for Jesp and Jonas who will be covering my post, yeah?”

Jack nods, bringing his hand up to his forehead in a far too serious salute. Nico ignores him, nudging you back when you let out a giggle. Your part is done now, at least for the rest of the meeting so you stand silently next to Timo, listening intently even though you’re already aware of the new rules.

“The boys working with me,” Nico starts, crossing his arms over his chest again. “I’m upping surveillance meaning I’m also upping everyone’s shifts. You’ll also be on a buddy system. Jonas and Jesp will give you your assignments after the meeting.

“These aren’t just bar watch assignments. The whole city is to be monitored. On top of camera surveillance, you’ll have patrolling shifts with your buddy. Our target areas are Devs protected establishments, particularly ones in Jersey City.”

If any of the boys realize his intentions with the new rules, they don’t react to it. Aside for your boys, you’re not exactly sure what the others know of your past. They know you’re from here, that you lost your family for this like so many others did. But you can’t even begin to guess what they’ve all been told about your journey into Nico’s life.

Do they know about the cemetery? About the deli too? Has Nico let anyone know that you’ve been disowned and treated like trash by your parents? They probably could guess it by Nico’s new protocols. Everyone knows he would never let anyone get away with disrespecting you. He’s said before that he’d burn cities and wage wars for you. Do they know that’s what he’s doing now?

Are all of these men eager to get in the line of fire for you?

“Last but not least,” Nico runs a thoughtful hand through his hair, settling it on his hip. “I’m putting the word out. Any business with Devs horns on the window is forbidden from serving y/n’s family. Names and photos will be distributed and any form of business, in person or not, is not permitted.”

There’s an almost still reaction, like the air in the room grows solid at his words. In all his years in New Jersey, Nico has never laid out such a rule for their businesses. He never wanted to be the cruel boss, never wanted to take away from the creativity and free flow of the city that made it so great. Nico loves New Jersey, you know that, the boys know that. This shift in rules particularly says enough.

He’s drawing battle lines. He’s getting a step ahead because for the first time, Nico is preparing the Devils for the biggest defensive action they’ve ever taken. They’re not just surviving now, not just living in the fabrics of New Jersey. He is preparing for their first territory battle.

All of it at the defense of you.

It doesn’t hit you lightly.

Since joining the Devils, you knew your place in the family was different. Nico had always told you as much, Timo had warned you from the get-go. You would never just be a member. Unlike the others, you didn’t come to Nico and join out of circumstance. No, he came to you. Nico made the space for you here. More so, he made that space a place of leadership and power.

He changed the entire layout of Devils so that you ruled alongside him. Most other families simply marry the women into the group and rely on them to bring up the next generation of members.

Nico didn’t bring you into the Devs for that, to be a wife and a mother, to be a homemaker. He brought you in because he loves you, because he wants to share the family he built with you. And he wants you to keep building it by his side rather than from his shadow.

It’s a lot to take in, being loved so much. Especially coming off the low of being cut out by your family. Their only daughter, the miracle baby they never thought they’d have, and yet they let that miracle fade out. Your parents are living the lonely, childless, two-income life they used to say they feared. And it’s all at their own hand.

Knowing that they’d rather live in their worst nightmare than with you being happy hurts in a way you can’t explain. It’s the same feeling you’d imagine Luke and Jack have towards their family. Alex too, especially with the state of his departure from Sweden. At least the Hughes boys have contact with their mother.

You and Alex have nothing of the sort. Unloved, unspoken of, forgotten and abandoned by the mothers that were supposed to love you unconditionally and whole heartedly.

Nico dismisses the meeting with a final order for them all to touch base with either Jonas and Jesper, or Timo and Mercer in the case of your boys. Your best friend has only a moment to pass by you, briefly touching the bend of your elbow with a reassuring gaze as he heads to gather with the younger boys.

Lost in thought, you stare at Nico’s abandoned coffee mug on the table top until he’s touching the small of your back, fingers warm through the thin fabric of your cotton tee.

“You okay?” He asks, eyebrows creased in concern when you blink up at him, lightly shaking your head out of its stupor. Now that he’s no longer running the meeting, and a such a serious one at that, you tuck into his body, hands coming up to rest on his chest.

“Yeah,” you promise, “it’s just a lot.”

You don’t have to further explain because he already knows. It’s a lot to do for just you. Even though you looked over this plan with him and approved of it all, it still feels like too much for just you. Him putting the boys in danger like this, pulling focus away from whatever was going on over in New York.

What if he misses something significant there because he’s too focused here? Too focused on you?

“For you,” he murmurs, gravely “it’s not enough. You’ve spent years missing them, hoping that one day they’d come around just to be hurt beyond reason. With us, with me, there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do to make up for that.”

Rising to your toes, you press a kiss to the scar on the corner of his lips, then another to his mouth, smiling when his hold on your waist tightens.

“I know. I’m just worried that we’re going to miss something else because we’re so busy with this.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Miss something like the Rags?” At your hum of confirmation he continues. “We’re not going to miss anything. Lee is keeping an eye out and with you and me being together all the time, we’ll pay attention. There’s enough of us to deal with your family and deal with whatever Trouba is up to.”

You hadn’t thought of that before. How being home with Nico everyday will open up your schedules now. Even if the sole focus is work, you’re bound to get time with just him. Unless there’s an absolute emergency, he’s all yours.

A part of you warms at the thought. You’ve missed him lately. It feels like ever since you got back from the hot mess that was Vancouver, you only see him at night or the couple hours put aside to teach him to drive the new car. At this point though, he’s pretty much got it down and your lessons have turned into driving around the city with the windows down, having sex in the backseat, and then going for food. Not that you’re complaining but it’ll be nice to be at home with him more often.

“I don’t want to be on lockdown Nico,” you say though, thinking of Switzerland. You had this conversation then and you’re hoping to god he didn’t just forget it. “Please don’t ask me to stay in the house with 24 hour surveillance. I want to actually help and actually be a part of it.”

He smiles down at you with mirth, pretty dimples in his cheeks and eyes moony with fondness. Something else glints there too, underneath all that warmth and love, a look of pride, and you know he didn’t forget.

“You won’t be,” Nico assures, tucking your hair behind your ear. He takes your chin between two fingers, his thumb tracing over the dip of it with a touch so soft it makes your whole chest grow hot. “I’m not locking you up in a tower and leaving you here. The reason you’re going to be with me all the time is for emergencies. If something happens with the guys, I need you close so you can make a decision right away.

“You’re leading us here, baby. I’m just the messenger.”

Almost giddy, you giggle and blush like a schoolgirl at his words. It makes him chuckle too, tucking his head down to press a kiss to your forehead. Faintly, you wonder if maybe you and him are crazy. Laughing and kissing over the knowledge that together you’re both about to make your parents lives absolute hell. Maybe the mob did change you, did make you in this unrecognizable and unredeemable person.

Alex sidles up and you break back from Nico to pull him into a hug, rubbing your hand up and down his back in greeting. You didn’t really see the boys when they got here this morning, not that there was much time for chatting with them anyway. Though you wish there had been because Alex is turning to Nico before you’ve even fully let go of him.

“I want to stay with you guys,” he says firmly, to no one’s surprise. “After Switzerland and stuff she should have two of us with her. Especially since it’s personal this time and I understand Italian basically so I can translate.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Nico stares down at Alex with a raised eyebrow, as if he’s actually considering the offer. You have to bite your cheek to keep from laughing at his little game. You were the one to assign Alex and Johnny to special assignments under Nico, simply because you wanted Alex with you. When Nico downright refused to leave you with just Alex, this was the compromise.

You knew Alex wouldn’t be entirely happy with it, at least not until he understands what the promotion, so to speak, actually means. Which is why you wanted to explain to him before hand. Now Nico gets to have his fun with it.

“Johnny is fluent,” Nico counters, “maybe I should keep him and send you with Timo. He’s got a lot more experience too which is safer for her.”

Even with his back to you, you can picture the way Alex’s mouth drops open in offense. His whole body bristles, hands coming out to his sides as he squawks, “what? No I want to stay! Come on Nico don’t send me with Timo. Please let me stay here.”

Nico clicks his tongue. “I don’t know…” he shrugs, looking around at the few boys still lingering and Alex keeps blocking his gaze, stepping side to side so that Nico is always looking at him.

“Okay,” you laugh, cutting in after Alex lets out a distressed huff. “Alex I assigned you and Johnny together.”

He whips around, gaze wounded and mouth open in offense. You quickly shush him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Special assignments from Nico means you’ll be with us most of the time. Unless there’s an actual location you need to be at with Johnny, the two of you will be monitoring and working with us.”

His whole body relaxes, features morphing into a happy smile and he shrugs, “Oh cool.” Like it’s no big deal, like he didn’t just get all wound up and defensive over the thought of not working with you and Nico.

“Oh cool,” Nico mocks, pinching at the back of Alex’s neck and he yelps, shoulders hunching up to try and get away from the sting. “Who do you think you are questioning us, huh?”

His tone is light hearted and teasing, easy going as him and Alex start shoving and pinching at each other.

“I’m a hyphenated Hischier,” Alex retorts, sticking his tongue out and then laughing when Nico jabs at the soft spot between his chest and arm. “I can say what I want here.”

They keep half wrestling and bickering, Alex laughing at each little poke and swipe as Nico backs him into the wall. He’s not giggling quite as much as Alex, but he’s got that smile on his face he only gets with the boys, especially Alex. The one that crinkles by the corners of his eyes, narrows them so much he’s all dark and long eyelashes, jaw clenched as he tries and fails to fight back that big of a grin.

Timo slings his arm over your shoulders, squeezing you into his side and you laugh, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Glad he’s still having fun,” Timo says, referring to Nico. “Didn’t really know how he’d be with all of this.”

You know what he means. Nico can be far too serious sometimes, shouldering things that are too heavy for just him but he never tries to share the burden. He likes being the to one to do it. To fix things, to take care of everyone, especially you. Even if it’s not good for him, he’ll wear it.

“Yeah,” you agree, “Alex is good at getting to him to take a breath and start acting his age instead of like a 50 year old man.”

Timo laughs under his breath, the two of you still watching them fight with each other. Moose has joined in now, wiggling between their legs and bullying his head into Nico’s knee or Alex’s calf.

“You think we’re ready for this?” You ask Timo, a little quieter than before.

He’s silent for a beat, contemplating. “Yeah I think so. Like I said before, Nico is ready for everything. Even when the rest of us aren’t.”

“I really missed you.” You turn into his side, wrapping your arms around his middle and squeezing him tight. He returns the embrace, patting at your back soothingly.

“I missed you too, a lot. We’ve got a lot to catch up on huh?”

There’s so much to talk about. Not just the rundown of what happened with your parents and everything else concerning work, but with just you two. You want to tell him how much it sucked seeing them that day. How stupid and powerless you felt. That you really wish he’d seen how well Mercer did too. And you want to know about Amelia and Switzerland, if they talked more about the future. You want to ask if he saw Luca or Katja, how they’re doing. Did they mention Nina too?

Right now isn’t the time though. Nico’s let Alex go by now, ruffling his hair before giving him room to escape into the kitchen. Which means it’s time to get work now. Starting with a visit to your gravesite.

~~~~

“This is actually insane.”

Nico scoffs out a sarcastic laugh, shaking his head in disbelief and planting his hands on his hips. It’s such a far off look from the man that was horsing around with Alex this morning, laughing and full of light that you immediately reach for his arm, hooking your hand through the crook of his elbow.

“That’s one word for it,” he mutters, but he lets out a deep breath and stretches his arm out to you, lets you tuck your fingers between his.

“At least it’s going to be gone.” You offer as a comfort, and then, like he’s trying to back up your statement, the slow rumble of the crane starts up from across the way, the groundskeeper already rolling it forward and towards your plot.

“Where am I supposed to put my flowers for you?” Timo pouts, the store bought bouquet of white roses in his hand and you laugh. Nico, who doesn’t find it very funny, reaches around you to snatch them away.

“Hey,” you complain, “those are mine!” He dodges your swiping hand, tucking the gathered stems of the flowers under his other arm. The crane inches forward, the three of you backing up to give it more room. You shift in the thick leather jacket Nico insisted you wear, the fabric hot and sticky in the humid air. Between that and red bandana tied over your head, pinning down your hair that’s grown frizzy, it’s almost unbearable out here.

You’d take sweating in Nico’s jacket and hiding behind devils red any day though if it means you get to see this. It swells up inside you, bubbling in your gut the closer the claw of the crane gets. Your fingers squeeze Nico’s, the relief and excitement growing and growing as the metal teeth enclose around the top of the headstone, digging into the stone until it cracks. There’s no need to preserve this stupid rock anyway.

You almost laugh at how easily it’s lifted into the air, not even constructed to look or act like a real grave marker. Temporary. Hastily done. It makes you wonder what the point even was. Did they plan on removing it if you ever came back? Pretending nothing happened? That they never did this? Or was it made so shitty because they put no real thought into killing you off? They made the decision and just executed it off the bat.

“That’s a little lackluster,” you grumble, “It’s so small. I fake died and they couldn’t even get one that goes buried in the ground?”

Nico elbows you, gaze unimpressed under those dark eyebrows of his. You wish he could see your eyes through your black sunglasses, see that you do find this kind of funny. You jut your bottom lip out at him.

“You’d never do this to me, right baby?” At your teasing tone his lips twitch, fighting back an amused smile that just eggs you on. “Right?” You press your chin into his bicep, nudging his arm annoyingly so.

“No I wouldn’t,” he assures through a grumble, rolling his eyes fondly. “Build a fucking statue for you baby, okay?”

Smirking proudly, you rise to your toes and press a chaste kiss to the hinge of his jaw. “Yeah I know. Nico Hischier and too small have never been in the same sentence, have they?”

Both him and Timo snort, Nico’s ears turning pink at the tips and he runs his tongue along the inside of his dimpled cheek. Shaking his head in both disbelief and laughter, he hands you your flowers in favor cupping your jaw. Holding your gaze, he narrows his eyes in an all too telling way. The same one he gives you when you’re toeing the line of what’s acceptable to say to him in public. The line has a little more grace when it’s just Timo around, fortunatly for you, but you already know you’ll be making it up to him later for that one.

“We’re surrounded by dead bodies and you’re trying to get in my pants?”

You shrug, the movement a little awkward with how he’s holding your face still. Over his shoulder, the crane inches away with your headstone swaying from the hook.

“Can’t do it in front of living people, can’t do it in front of dead ones, when am I supposed to do it?”

Nico shakes his head, fingers flexing into a light pinch and then he lets you go. He blows out a puff of air, fighting to contain the smile you were searching for in the first place. You and Timo share a hushed snicker, only silencing when the rumble of the tractor returns.

This time in its claw hangs the thick chain weaved around the new headstone, a hulking black slab of marble dangling from it.

“That’s a little menacing,” Timo says, arms crossed over his chest as the new marker inches closer and closer to your newly renovated plot. Shifting to look at you, he eyes you carefully.

“Why do you think they did it? Like what was the point of the headstone?”

It’s the same question you and Nico have been pouring over everyday since you first came to the cemetery. What did they want to accomplish with that? How long had it been sitting here before you found it? Most concerning, how did they pull it off? You know how Nico got the new headstone made, how much he paid for it to be illegally placed here. With his influence though, that’s a price he can easily pay.

Your parents can’t. You have no idea how they got around the law to fake your death. It was a risky move, one that could’ve ended with them in jail. Instead they’ll face something worse. They’re staring directly at you and Nico now, two people without much of a limit on what kind of damage they can do.

All to send a message that could’ve been sent in an email if you’re being honest.

“Isn’t it obvious?” You mumble, “it was for me. They wanted me to know it was actually over.” What you did when you chose Nico was unforgivable. Even though you’d always left that door cracked for your parents, always hoped maybe things would be better again, they shut that door a long time ago. Locked it from the outside and sealed it tight with a pretty headstone on top. “They never intended to be my parents again.”

Nico reaches for you again, nose flared and eyebrows lowered thoughtfully. You step into his side, let him pull you close and comfort you in the only way he really knows how. Protecting you, loving you. Even if he looks like he’s mentally far away from you, his mind most likely sifting through everything he wants to do to your parents. He wants to kill them. You know he does.

“How’d they do it?” Timo questions, “Do we know anything yet?”

Nico’s tone is clipped when he responds. “No we don’t.” You slip your arm around his waist, pressing your hand into the tense spot between his shoulder blades and rub your palm in soothing circles. He’s frustrated, you know that. He wants to get ahead of this, needs information if he wants to get a foot up. Every time you’ve said Nico is smart, you mean it. Knowledge is power and like he told you the night you met him, he’s never just on a power trip.

“There was nothing on public record of it,” he continues, a little less angry and more exhausted sounding now. “No obituaries, no news headlines or articles, not even a certificate of death.”

On paper, all of this is impossible. If you were to look at it in black and white, there’s no way your parents would’ve been able to pull this off. And if you had any other life than a mob one, it would all seem like some sick prank or joke. Except you are a mob wife and you know there’s always more.

“That’s what Alex and Johnny are for,” you explain, motioning to the two boys that have been monitoring your corner of the cemetery. They’re not as bundled up as you but they’re in all black, weapons concealed in their waist bands and a red bandanas tied around one of their legs. “Alex is like obsessive and Johnny is good with details. We’re hoping together they can do better digging than Nico and I could.”

That and you need a distraction. If your parents are now on the lookout for you and Nico, especially after he visited their home, they’ll have their ears to ground for any sign of him. They don’t know Alex or Johnny, didn’t see either of them with you that day. If anyone can sneak around them for information, it’ll be those two.

While they’re watching you and Nico, your boys will be watching them.

Almost impressed, Timo looks you up and down, something warm in those blue eyes of his. Not the same warmth that he gives you and Nico just because you’re his best friends. It’s more like…admiration.

“You’re good at this,” he says in explanation when you give him a questioning look. “Being in charge, being a prinzessin.”

His words make your heart well, fluttering up with relief. By now, you think you’ve proven yourself about being able to handle mob business. But Nico has grown up in this. He was literally bred to be the head of a mob family. And Timo, while not born into it, got in with Nico at such a young age too. They’re the ones that know what to do, have this life ingrained in them.

Hearing that from Timo, seeing that look in his eyes, is such a heavy compliment it makes you want to cry. He’s known you from day one, has heard every fear and concern you’ve ever had about Nico and the Devils. He was the one that took that broken girl, the one still insecure and lost after you’re break up with Nico and the loss of your family, traumatized and mentally unwell from Philadelphia, and taught you to be strong and capable.

These past few months, between Nico showing you that all this time that he’s been building up the Devils for you and Timo admitting that he’d follow you over Nico, it’s almost too much.

Blinking away the flattered tears that have gathered in your waterline, you take a steadying inhale as the crane comes to a stop. The groundskeeper, a man unknown to you but now on Nico’s payroll, maneuvers the arm until the newly engraved headstone is placed in the indent left from yours. Only this one is triple the size, stretching across the entire plot, on all three spaces under your parent’s name.

Shiny and new, the black marble swirled with flecks of gold is a stark contrast to the white one that had been here. It’s unmistakable, unmissable. If your parents so much as drive by and glance over they’ll know that it’s been swapped. And they’ll come over to see the latest warning that’s been put in place.

Glaringly obvious who it’s come from. The stone is engraved with their names, a large and gothic looking font spread across the entire top half. Nico didn’t put any dates on it but he did add a personal touch.

For if God did not spare angels when they sinned, but cast them into hell and committed them to chains of gloomy darkness to be kept until the judgment.

You can’t help but smirk at the scripture he stamped under their names, framed by two imposing devil horns on either side. In case they happened to miss the message, the devils logo will hopefully do the job.

No matter what they do now, how they might try to go back or rationalize themselves, Nico will not be sparing them. As of right now, they’ve already been caught. All he’s waiting for is the explanation you want, the reasoning that will condemn them.

The irony of him being God here isn’t lost on you. If they want to take you off this earth unwilling and untruthful, he can play God bigger and better than anyone. He can do worse. And you won’t stop him.

“What’s next?” Timo asks as the groundskeeper dropping the chains from the crane. They crash to the ground with a ringing clatter, falling away from the headstone until the whole thing glints freely at you.

Nico squeezes your hip, peering over your head to his friend. “We start pushing in on them,” he says, going into the plan you and him have laid out. You’ll monitor Johnny and Alex from the house, sending them out to tail and take tabs on your family. They’re going to get down whatever routine and schedule your family might have, figure out why and how your nonna is suddenly in town. And anything she might’ve known about your death. While the four of you work on that, Timo and Mercer are going to be enforcing the new rules for Devils protected establishments. The next round of check ups he’ll make sure they’ve been notified and are in agreement with the protocols. Anyone who isn’t will be dropped from their contract.

The others will be awarded a compensation for any income they may miss out on by denying your family services. Timo will be working out the numbers on that and making sure it’s all distributed. Then he’ll be double checking that all businesses have a way of reaching Jonas and Jesper in case of emergency or any retaliation on your parents side.

“I don’t want any trouble for our people,” Nico concludes. “You gotta keep a close eye there Timo. That’s the only way we keep them safe and her.”

He gives you a shake on the final word, your sunglasses slipping down your nose as you giggle and curl into his chest. Smiling softly, he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.

Timo makes a noise of realization. “You’re going to up root them. Make them unwelcome in their home.”

You purse your lips, unwilling to admit that this part of the plan was fuzzy. Yeah you want them to suffer, want them to feel as lost and uncomfortable as you did. But Nico had offered more, the ultimate punishment and you still haven’t answered.

“It’s nothing worse than what they did to her,” Nico defends but you both know Timo wasn’t judging. He just hasn’t been here for it all, doesn’t know what exactly you’ve contributed. He’s trying to get a feel for how far this will all go because from the looks of it, Nico is going to cross that line.

“So this is how it ends?” He nods towards the headstone. “It’ll stop when they’re here?”

The words hang in the air, both of you unable to answer. Nico won’t make this decision for you and you won’t make it either. Obviously you know they’ve done that, have made the hard choice of completely removing you from their life but they lied about it. They didn’t actually try to kill you. Though you supposed the only reason they didn’t is because they’ve always assumed the worst of Nico. They probably thought he would get you killed and then all of this here wouldn’t be a lie. More of a prophecy come to life.

Up until last week though, you still had a space for them in your future. You were already mulling over the idea of inviting them to your wedding, of figuring out a way with Nico to at least let them know that they’d be welcome to be there for you if they wanted to make the leap. You hadn’t written them off yet and you’re still not sure you want to.

All you know is that you want to make them pay. And you want them to know it was you. Nico isn’t the only one calling the shots here, even if you’ll let it appear that way. So you step out of Nico’s hold, crossing the untouched dirt of your fake gravesite and lay the bouquet of flowers at the bottom of the new headstone.

A pretty little personal touch, a gesture of hello from you to them.

~~~~

The soft glow of the kitchen lights, only half of them flicked on, greets you at the base of the staircase. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you tip toe across the entryway and into the kitchen, a low smile taking over your lips at the sight before you.

Nico’s hair hangs messily over his forehead, still rumbled and frizzy from what little sleep he’s had. The pajama pants he so rarely sleeps in hang low on his hips, the band of them hidden under the apron he’s tied around his bare torso. In the little light he’s given himself, he’s hunched over the countertop and layering a spoonful of cream in a glass dish.

“Hey,” you greet softly, pausing in the doorway. He looks up, eyes a little wild and startled before realizing it’s you.

“Hi,” he murmurs, gaze softening. He drops the spoon into the large bowl of whipped cream, straightening out. “What are you doing up?”

Laughing to yourself, you round the island as he wipes his hands clean on a dish towel. “Not baking, that’s for sure.” You tease, stepping into his space.

“S’not baking technically.” He defends, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. Laying your cheek against the scratchy fabric of his apron, you examine the contents laid out on the countertop. The lady fingers, the bowl of cold coffee, and whipped topping.

“You’re making tiramisu?”

He hums, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Yeah. Wanted to make you something sweet for when you woke up.”

Slipping your hand around his waist, you let your fingers trail up the curve of his bare spine, reaching the peak between his shoulder blades before tickling back down.

“Could’ve done it in the morning,” you reply ambiguously. If Nico is up in the middle of the night, unsettled enough that he had to come down here and physically do something with his hands, it’s not a great sign. Whether he’s unable to sleep from the general events of the past week or something else, you don’t know.

Luckily, he takes the opening you give him.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he mumbles, fingers squeezing your shoulder. “Got a call while you were tucking Alex in.”

Dramatic, you gasp. “And you didn’t tell me until now?”

He scoffs, shushing you by reaching down and pinching your ass through the thin cotton of your pajama shorts. Hard enough that it has you jolting, leaping forward just to end up squished even closer to him.

“Hey!” You complain but he just snickers, dropping his hands to grab at the back of your thighs. He hefts you up and onto the counter, fitting his hips between your knees.

“Do you mind?” He asks, “M’trying to tell you something important.”

Clearing your throat, you sit up straighter, hands on his shoulders as you stare intently into those warm eyes of his. Fondly, he shakes his head before continuing.

“Keefe down at the station called,” he says, lips twitching with amusement when you scowl. You know Keefe all too well from the time he arrested you and the boys. No matter how many times you told him you were Nico’s wife, he insisted that it was in his contract with the Devils to hold you until Nico could come get you. The worst part was that he made poor Luke sit on those stupid hard benches even though he’d just been hit by a car.

Teasingly, Nico squeezes your knee. “He said your parents have filed a police report. About a break in at their house and they’re insisting it’s organized crime related. They want him to escalate it even though nothing was reported stolen.”

It worries you a bit, that Nico was up in the middle of the night over something like this. Like he said, nothing was stolen and you know it was him that did it. Keefe can throw away the report, no harm done and they can all move on. Your parents will then know that the police will be of no help to them and hopefully they’ll back down from whatever they were trying to achieve with reporting in the first place.

“He can just get rid of it, can’t he?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “It’s not a big deal right? Like you said, you didn’t technically break anything or steal anything.”

Almost pityingly, Nico purses his lips, head tilting to the side like a sad puppy. His thumb starts to draw soothing circles into the bend of your knee and your breath catches in your throat, wondering what the hell could be in that report that has him this worried.

“I can have him throw it out, yeah.” He says gently, “But this still means they know baby. Or they at least know I’m up to something and they’re willing to fight back.”

Oh, you think dumbly. Of course that’s what this all meant. You feel a little stupid for not thinking it earlier. Why else would they go to police? They’re making an effort (a futile one at that) to take a stand against the Devils, against Nico, against you.

“So?”

He takes a deep breath. “I could tell Keefe to throw it out and we carry on with the plan. They’d know after that, that I’ve got the cops in my pocket. Or I let him escalate it.”

Toying with the knot of his apron, you frown. “What happens if he escalates it?” At your worried tone, Nico cups your face, the pad of his thumb tracing under your sleep swollen eyes.

“Nothing bad,” he assures, “S’just we didn’t account for it. If Keefe escalates though, we could get into the station for interviews and statements. Hear directly from them what they think they know about us.”

It sounds like a good thing. Nico had been plotting how to get direct information out of them. You’ve been using Johnny and Alex to try and do it. This way is so much simpler and you don’t have to risk your parents noticing the two men suddenly tailing them everywhere. Except Nico is still looking at you like it’s not a good thing. Dark eyebrows furrowed in worry, bottom lip between his teeth as he anxiously waits for you to say something.

“Isn’t that good?” You ask. “You could get Keefe to give you answers to everything.”

“Yeah I could,” he shrugs, a little indifferent. “But I’m not going anywhere without you by my side and I don’t know if it’s the best idea for you to be that close to them.”

You’ve never really considered yourself to be an aggressive person. You can be protective and mean when pushed a little too far, and yeah you maybe have killed a person or two but that was all self defense. You can confidently say however, that you’ve never had the downright urge to hurt someone with your bare hands.

You could right now though, you think. Cuteness aggression must be a real thing because the overwhelming need to take Nico’s precious face between your hands and squeeze him until he pops has rushed through you. This is what the big fuss was about? He’s up in the middle of the night making your favorite dessert because of this?

Nico’s always made you feel so special and loved, like you’re the most important thing to ever walk the Earth, but this is a new high for him, you think.

“Neeky,” you murmur, holding the sides of his face with gentle fingers despite your brain telling you to pinch and poke violently at the dimpled scar on his cheekbone. “I’m not afraid of them. Especially not if you’re going to be there with me. Anything they could say about me or you, it doesn’t matter. We know us. I know you. They’re not going to change that ever.”

He’s still for a moment, lips parted as he takes a deep breath. His gaze flickers between yours like he’s trying to decide if you’re being serious. It’s almost devastating to think that he was willing to give up this good deal because he was concerned of how it’d affect you. He didn’t want you to hear terrible things and get hurt.

Even if it meant making his job harder. Putting the boys in risky spots when now they won’t have to. You shouldn’t be surprised though. After all, he argued with you in Vancouver when you tried to make him promise that he’d protect Luke and Jack before you. Even then he never fully agreed, just let you talk until time was up and you had to get moving.

He’s always putting you first.

“I-I don’t want you to be hurt by this.” He insists. “We don’t know what they’re going to say and I can’t protect you from mean words. Not as much as I’d like to.”

You thread your fingers through his hair, dragging his face down until you can smash your lips to his. He makes a high pitched sound in the back of his throat, his hand slipping around your waist to draw you closer to him.

“Escalate it,” you tell him, the words just a murmur against his lips before you’re pecking at them again. “I trust you Nico.”

He groans, surging forward to kiss you again. Warm hands trail up your thighs, slipping under your pajama shorts to grab at your ass. He pulls you to the edge of the counter, your knees hiking up by his waist. Swiftly, you find the knot at the back of his apron and pull it loose, breaking apart long enough for you to lift the strap over his head. He doesn’t complain when you drop it haphazardly to the kitchen floor, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You trace the muscles there, the dips of his shoulder blades. His skin is overly warm the way it always seems to be. Even in the frigid air of the alps he radiated a heat you’ve never had. Underneath all that warmth though, your fingers find the knots in his back, tight lumps from days of stress, of apparently not sleeping enough, of choking down black coffee to keep himself focused.

“You’re all tense,” you murmur into his mouth, Nico humming absentmindedly as he tucks his face into your neck. Like the rest of him, his lips are too warm on your pulse, his teeth biting a mark of heat there that blossoms down your body, spreading like wildfire. “My poor baby, all worked up.”

He groans at your teasing, rising on to his toes and shifts his hips forward to grind the bulge of his cock into your center.

“Course I’m fucking worked up,” he says into your collarbone where he’s stretched your shirt down your shoulder. “What was it you said the other day? Something about being small…”

“Oh that,” you giggle, massaging your fingertips into his tight muscles. He groans, the sound devastatingly beautiful in how it rattles out of his throat. “I think it was something more about you not being small.”

He hums, content and flattered, and you lock your legs around his hips, balancing precariously on the edge of the counter to grind against his hard cock. “And I stand corrected.”

A thread in the collar of your shirt snaps, drawing you back from him with an affronted gasp. Nico does the same, a wolfish smile on his face when you pout at the loose neck of your shirt. It’s technically his shirt, one you’ve been stealing since the first time you ever slept at his place though so it is practically yours. And now he’s gone and messed it up.

“Nico,” you whine, “you stretched it out.”

Pleased with himself, he blinks those pretty brown eyes at you. “S’not gonna be the only thing stretched out, huh?”

It’s a terrible joke. Actually horrendous and even he seems to think so by the way his own nose scrunches in distaste. But then you’re both giggling, cupping his face and drawing him down until your smiling lips are messily pressed together.

“Alex asleep upstairs?”

You hum in confirmation, knowing that he’s still tucked into the bed in his room, exactly how you left him after you laid with him until he fell asleep earlier. You had enough mind to check on him in your search for Nico earlier, worried that maybe your fiancé was up and soothing him from a particularly bad dream. He’s been on edge lately, more than usual with all that’s going on so you didn’t hesitate to follow him upstairs after dinner when he asked you to tuck him in, ignoring the amused smirks coming from Timo and Nico.

Speaking of.

“Timo?” You mumble, letting out a noise of protest when Nico blanches, pulling back from you with terrified eyes. “What?” You asks, heart suddenly thumping nervously.

“Baby we are not- M’not stretching out Timo.”

“Oh my god!” You groan, shoving at his chest. “No I was asking if he went home, oh my god.”

Disgusted, you shiver with a frown, physically shaking off the idea. You love Timo, really you do. And he knows practically everything about you and Nico, even in your private life, but that’s too far. Way too far. The reason you’ve always been able to go to him about stuff like this is because of the fact that he’s simply your best friend. There’s never been anything there but that.

Nico’s whole body slumps with relief, dropping his forehead to rest against yours as his eyes flutter shut. “Oh thank fuck,” he gasps, “I was honestly about to throw up.”

You frown. “I think you’ve maybe ruined the mood Hischier.”

He blinks open his eyes, annoyed as he swiftly slips a hand under the flimsy fabric of your shorts, fingers immediately coming in contact with your bare pussy. Instinctively, you shift into the rough pads of his fingers, mouth dropping open in a soft moan.

“Ruin the mood my ass,” he jests, but then his face softens and he touches a gentle kiss to your lips. “Do you want to just go to bed baby?”

You bat your eyelashes at him. “No, I want you to fuck me.”

A sly grin takes over his face. “Right here? Want me to fuck you just like this?” He punctuates the question with a slow rub of his middle and ring finger in a circle on your swollen clit. Your eyes flutter closed, mouth dropping open with a soft breath of pleasure. But-

“No I want-on the couch Nico.”

You can see the face he makes even with your eyes closed just by the displeased tone of his voice. Well that and the way his fingers have stopped their ministrations, stoic between your legs. “The couch?”

Sure enough when you blink your eyes open, he’s frowning down at you like this is the biggest inconvenience of his life. You grip his shoulders, kneading your fingers into the knots there and his demeanor shifts, lips parting in a content moan.

“You’re already too tense baby. Let’s go to the couch, please?”

He offers no rebuttal, planting a hand on your ass and slipping the other down your thigh as he stands with you plastered to his chest. Abandoning the mess of half made tiramisu on the kitchen counter, Nico navigates into the dark living room with you, laying sweet kisses to your temple and cheek as he goes.

Somewhat graciously, Nico drops you into the overly stuffed cushions, chuckling at the little “oof” you let out as you flop into the couch.

“Undress for me,” he instructs in a quiet voice, nodding to your shorts as he goes to work on his own bottoms. You don’t bother with the pathetic excuse of a shirt you’ve got left, simply letting it hang low on your chest as you wiggle out of your pajama shorts.

Nico’s undone the knot on his pants now, dropping them down his legs and kicking them off to the side. Even in the dim light of the living room he looks so good, all dark body hair and thick muscles, the effects of his stupid black coffee diet already apparent in the smaller pudge of his stomach. Upset about it, you splay your hand out under his belly button, the coarse hair of his happy trail tickling your fingers as you admire him with a pout. From the tip of his fluffy bed head all the way down to his thick thighs, cock hanging hard and heavy between them. Noticing the absence of his boxers, you laugh and snuggle back into couch when he lays himself on top of you.

“Not much for us to take off, is there?” You comment as he settles back on his haunches. His hands travel up your thighs, squeezing at them appreciatively before spreading them wider. Compliant, you let him drape them over his hips, knees parted to his liking. It only takes him a moment to shove your shirt up, just high enough for you boobs to peek out at him.

“Couldn’t be bothered,” he replies, palming at your chest, the skin of his hands hot and calloused. “Was just waiting for you to jump me.”

You raise an amused eyebrow. “Oh really?” He nods, a close lipped smirk on his face as he traces the inside of your thighs again. “Should’ve been taking care of you huh? My poor Neeky, so stressed and worked up.”

His eyelashes flutter prettily at your words, a hand dropping from groping at your thighs to wrap around his heavy cock. Nico’s body is strong over yours when he shifts forward, bracing himself on his elbow above your head. Giddily, you tangle your hands in his hair and bring his mouth down to yours, parting your lips for him when the soft, slick sounds of him working his hand up and down his cock fill the otherwise silent room.

Never one to indulge in his own palm, he’s quick to tease the thick head of his dick through your wet folds. There’s no real rush to his movements but you feel like you only get a moment or two to breath in the air he exhales against your lips before he enters you in one swift, solid movement of his hips. Whatever shallow breathes you’d managed to inhale get caught in your throat, so full it’s like there’s no room for any air to fit around the space Nico’s taking up in your body.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, voice heavy and rough in your ear. Lazily, he presses wet kisses to your jaw as you hitch your legs around his waist and force yourself to take deep, relaxing breathes. “Fuck you feel good baby.”

“God Nico,” you gasp after a beat, turning your head to capture his lips. All at once he’s licking into your mouth, drawing his hips back and finding a slow but bruising pace of fucking into you. You slide a hand down his back, finding those same knots and tense muscles you’d poked at in the kitchen, now flexing with effort, and massage your fingers into them again.

A whimpered noise comes from the back of his throat, almost pained sounding but more pleasure filled than anything else. Your knees shake with it, the drag of his cock and the gruff of his voice so attractive it burns you from the inside out, pulls at every sensitive part of who you are.

“Feels good,” he grunts through a rattled breath. You keep going, fingers aching as you dig into all the tense spots of his back, and Nico - god Nico makes these raw little groans with each one, jolting and jumping when you catch a particularly tender spot. It throws off the rhythm he’d been fucking you with but you don’t even care. The startled, sporadic juts of his hip work just fine if not better, whatever intensity they’re missing being made up for with the pretty sounds he’s making.

“M’sorry I didn’t take care of you sooner,” you coo at him, scratching your nails at his scalp. Goosebumps run down his skin and he lets out a disbelieving laugh. His eyes are inky dark and wet when they meet yours, pupils blown so wide you might see a perfect reflection of yourself in them if the room weren’t so dark.

“Shhh, you’re perfect.” He assures, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth when your thumb circles a solid knot of muscle on his lower back, right where his spine first starts to curve down to his ass. The pain must be good though because neither of you miss the way his cock twitches appreciatively. “Fuck, taking care of me now aren’t you? Doing it so good too. Letting me have you like this, dead in the middle of the fucking night.”

You don’t bother giving a real answer. You know what his rambling means, when his accent bleeds in thicker and his heavy tongue lets every thought on his mind drip out. If you ever wanted words out of Nico, you know by now that you can get them out of him when he’s on verge of coming. Whatever block in his head that silences him under normal conditions falls away as soon as he’s laid bare like this. When he’s with you, vulnerable in one the most terrifying yet exhilarating ways.

Where he knows he can trust you, can just be with you. Somewhere you’ll always take care of him, hold him and make him feel good no matter the time of day.

He’s got you and you’ve got him.

~~~~

You’ve been in this interrogation room before.

The slick, silver table and metal chairs that are nowhere near comfortable. Vulnerable and exposed in the air that’s just on the far side of too cold. Above your head, the vent rattles with the constant hum of the air conditioning system.

You remember that from when you sat at this table directly across from Nico, shy under his mafioso stare as you admitted to being an accomplice in the hit and near-run of Luke.

Today Nico sits next to you though, his knee touching your thigh where his legs are spread out wide. A possessive hands rests on the inside of your thigh, not commanding or patronizing, but instead a comforting weight. Solid and soothing.

Across the table, Keefe is fielding the brunt of your fiancé’s attitude today. In his own place of work, sat at the interrogation table he typically mans, the sheriff looks small compared to Nico’s looming presence.

“They’ll be here in about twenty minutes,” Keefe says, sliding the file over to Nico. The tab of the  manila is labeled with the first initials of your parents and their last name, the sight of it making your stomach tighten with anxiety. You hate that name, hate that’s it’s been attached to you for so long even though you haven’t been in that family in a long time.

You don’t want to rush your wedding with Nico, but you can’t wait until the day you get to legally change your name on everything. When you’ll finally match him, and Alex too, and even Moose. You don’t doubt that you’re an apart of the family, don’t feel left out or anything, but it’ll be nice to share that with your boys.

“This is all they shared?” Nico asks, free hand flipping the file open. “Pretty thin.” He sits forward to start reading the police report, eyes ghosting over most of it before he’s presenting it to you.

“We didn’t expect it to go anywhere so we never followed up,” Keefe explains, “Besides, they didn’t seem to eager to be sharing a lot of detail.”

Yeah, because they’re liars. Leaning your elbow on the table, you lay your palm over the edge to keep the a/c from blowing it anywhere and read over the statements. Much to your annoyance, Nico and Keefe are right. Your parents barely even gave enough information for this to be fileable. The date, where they were when it happened (out on an errand, how cryptic), and what they noticed. Nothing stolen or broken, but things moved around and paper burned in their sink. No sign of forced entry.

“This is nothing,” you sigh, closing the folder and giving it back to Nico. “They won’t say where they were or what was destroyed.”

Keefe raises an eyebrow, looking from Nico to you and then back. “Do I need to know what was destroyed?”

Nico makes a face, shaking his head. “It was all fake documents,” he says, patting the inside of your thigh. “It’ll be fine baby. We’re going to listen in to their questioning. Keefe’s got some stuff I told him to make sure to ask, we’ll figure out what they’re up to.”

Keefe nods in agreement, picking up the file and you all stand from the table. Wrapping Nico’s leather jacket tighter around yourself, he guides you out of the room and out into the hall. Moose perks up from where you left him sitting by the door to the interrogation room, coming to your side when Nico whistles at him. Intrigued, Keefe watches Moose flank to the side Nico’s not at, the two of them standing protectively around you. He doesn’t say anything though, instead just leading you a few feet down into another open doorway.

The room is small, roughly the size of a large storage closet with a few chairs lined up. But the two way glass covering the far wall overlooks the room you’d been sat in not even five minutes ago.

“Can settle in here,” Keefe motions to the seats. “If you need anything Nico, they’ll be an officer posted outside the door. Just knock on it and she’ll come in.”

“Thanks Keefe,” Nico nods, nudging you into the room. You settle into one of the chairs, Moose sitting politely by your feet. “Appreciate it.”

The two men share a hard handshake, Keefe giving you a half wave before he’s stepping out of the room. You shift in the tall chair to face the two way glass as the door clicks shut behind you. You can feel when Nico turns to look at you.

“You doing ok?”

Running your fingers through Moose’s fur, you nod. You were never nervous for this. Maybe anxious, but more so in the way that you’re ready for answers. You’ve already had an awkward, panic inducing interaction with them and you’re not going to have one again. Whatever care you held for them vanished after that day.

“Yeah I’m fine,” you promise, offering him a soft smile over your shoulder. “Annoyed with them but I don’t- I don’t really have any feelings towards them anymore.”

Nico comes to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around you and leaning in to kiss your temple. Moose’s tail wags, tilting his snout up to look at Nico and then he’s resting his head on your thigh where he can see you both.

“Hi Müsli,” he murmurs, chin digging into your shoulder and his fingers scratch softly between Moose’s eyes. Softer this time, he asks, “What about your nonna?”

Until now, you hadn’t been thinking of her. It’s a little too much if you’re being honest. So much went down that day and so much has happened since then that you haven’t wanted to think about your grandmother. If you don’t think about her, you don’t have to think about what she may or may not know. She was shocked to see you that day in the deli, so obviously she didn’t have any idea of your death being fake, but she hasn’t reached out since. You don’t want to think about what that means.

“I guess we’ll see right?” You shrug, but an ugly feeling is bubbling in your gut. A little anxious, a little scared, but more disgusted. Everything about this situation has just left a bad taste in your mouth.

Nico hums, mouth parting with words that never get spoken because the muffled sound of the door opening on the other side of the wall comes through the low speakers. You both sit up, attention turning to the glass where Keefe is guiding in the two people you’ve been waiting for.

“No nonna,” Nico comments, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders. He gives them a reassuring squeeze, thumbs pressing into the tense spots on your neck.

Your mother is the first to sit at the table, a modest black dress on her frame that looks like it’s meant for church more than it is a casual Friday at the police station. Like the fabric of her clothes, she sits cold and stiff, purse balanced on her crossed legs.

“Yikes,” Nico murmurs, “Katja Hischier anyone?”

Which he’s not exactly wrong. While you’d say your mom was a lot warmer than Katja seemed to be, they both exude the same haughty, superior air. Your mother especially now that you’ve become public enemy number 1.

By now your father has sat down too, awkwardly folding his hands on the cool metal of the table. Keefe doesn’t so much as glance at the two way mirror as he moves to sit across from them, an unknown officer with him. They take a moment to settle, the officer pulling out a blank form from the folder and a pen.

“Thanks again for coming in today,” Keefe starts and your mother’s lips twitch into a polite smile. “I’ll try to make this quick so you’re not spending all day here. Why don’t you just walk me through the initial report again.”

Nico’s fingers continue to massage at your shoulders and neck, gentle but strong in their touch. He doesn’t speak, any words unnecessary when his hands, the ones that always know how to hold you together, do enough to keep you grounded. A silent support as the two of you intently analyze the scene happening in front of you.

“Well last week we returned home to find that someone had been in our house,” your mother states, her tone plain and simple. Like it’s all that clean cut. Someone broke in so the cops should arrest them. No further details needed.

A silent pause. Keefe and the officer, pen hovering over the paper share a look. “Do you remember what day?”

Your mother purses her lips. “Thursday.”

Another awkward pause. The officer writes down the date on his sheet. Your father shifts uncomfortably and Keefe clears his throat. “What time did you arrive home?”

“It was dark,” she responds immediately. “After dinner hours.”

You roll your eyes. “Dinner is six o’clock,” you murmur to Nico. It’s been dinner at six every day of your life until you went to college. No matter the date, weather, holiday, birthday, whatever dinner was always served at six.

“What?” Nico asks, his fingers pausing their massaging. “Everyday dinner was served at 6. Even if we ate out, it was timed so that we’d be seated and ordering at 6. She’s being cryptic for some reason.”

He hums thoughtfully, squeezing your shoulders again. Methodically, he drags his hands down your biceps, flexing his hands as he goes. On the other side of the wall, Keefe purses his lips.

“What do you consider dinner hours?”

Indignant, your mother scoffs. “Anytime after dinner?” Her expression has gone sour, neck growing splotchy with agitation and you revel in for a moment. At least until your father sits forwards, offering a placating smile.

“It was probably around 7 or 7:30 that night. We got home and found the rug in our living room messed up, pictures and things moved around. Something was burnt in our sink.”

Finally, the officer starts scribbling down actual useful information and Keefe’s large shoulders slump with relief. Even as your mother side eyes your father, tongue in cheek.

“Was there any sign of forced entry?”

“No sir,” your father replies, blowing out a sigh. “The door was locked even. We checked the windows and other exits, nothing. We have no idea how someone got in.”

Your mother scoffs, rolling her eyes. She crosses her arms over her chest, foot beginning to shake restlessly under the table. “We know how he got in.”

He. Nico. So she does know.

“Oh,” Keefe hums, “you do? Nothing was stated in the initial report?”

She takes the chance to argue her case, to prove that she’s right just as she always has. You’re all to familiar with the way her nose flares, eyes narrowed in challenge as she speaks yet it still takes your breath away.

You can picture her standing over you as you sat on the staircase, telling her about how you’d failed your elementary Spanish test that week because you kept mixing in Italian phrases instead and she’s muttering that she knew it, that she knew it’d be too much for you, that you couldn’t handle it all.

“It was that mafia running around here,” she says matter of fact. “The only person who’d be interested in our home, our lives would be that Hischier man.”

Behind you, Nico makes a pleased noise, like the disdain dripping off her tongue is the biggest compliment. His breath is hot on your cheek when he leans in, a giggle in his voice. “That Hischier man huh? Sounds pretty legit.”

You shake your head in amusement, turning to catch his smile for a chaste kiss. “You are pretty legit Hischier.” You tell him, warmth blooming in your chest when his smile widens, and he starts thumbing at the hinge of your jaw.

“Hischier?” Keefe asks, almost incredulous. “As in Nico Hischier?”

“Yes!” Your mother insists, gaze a little wild. “You know him then? And what he does?”

“Yes ma’am we know all about Nico Hischier.”

The two of you snicker under your breath. She has no idea just how much Keefe knows about Nico and the Devils.

“Then you’ll know that this wasn’t a coincidence or anything,” your mother says triumphantly, shaking her head. “No he’s had an eye on us for a while. A few years ago my husband here was being followed, kept feeling like someone was watching him. He’d see that Hischier guy all over town almost everyday. And then it just stopped. Now all of sudden our house is messed up and no one can find any sign of who did it. It’s sneaky mafia business is what it is.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh, rubbing at your eyes. “Following my dad? I think she might actually be insane.”

Except Nico is suspiciously quiet. Eyes narrowed, you slip out of the chair to look at him, hands on your hips. He’s still leaning into the chair you were sat on, eyes wide and innocent. Too innocent.

“Oh Nico,” you mumble, exasperated. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” He insists, holding his hands up in defense. “I didn’t do anything technically. I just maybe was keeping an eye on them.”

You’re not even surprised. Despite laughing at how absurd your mother sounded accusing him of tailing your father, you should’ve known better. It’s not the first time you’ve become privy to him tailing someone unknowingly. He’d done it to you back when you were in school.

“When?” You ask, unimpressed.

He shrugs. “When we were broken up. I just- it wasn’t even about them, I was making sure that you were okay. I wanted to know that you didn’t go back to them.” 

Of all the reasons, you didn’t think that would be why. He was following them for you? When you weren’t together and thought you meant nothing to him? Was he following you then too? When he had no right to? Though you suppose he always had that right with you because something about the thought of him still being with you back then is nice. All that time you spent feeling so scared and alone, abandoned by family and friends but worst of all abandoned by him. He had your back even then.

You wonder why he didn’t just ask Timo about you. He was still your friend at the time, the one you turned to for everything and maybe you weren’t the best of friends back to him, but he was always there. Always just a text or call away. Like he was right there. A sour thought bleeds into your brain.

Was Timo tailing you? When you thought he was just being a friend did Nico actually have him watching you? You know Timo and Nico had a strained relationship after the breakup but you also know that Timo is undeniably loyal to Nico. He’s picked him over you before. Why wouldn’t he have done it then, even if they were on rocky ground?

“We can’t talk about this here,” you shake your head, moving back to your seat and ignoring the guilty droop of his eyes. “We already missed things.” Settling back in your chair, you cross your arms over your chest but you don’t shake off Nico’s hand when it sweeps your hair to the side, finding its resting place on the back of your neck.

“And your daughter,” Keefe says, flipping through the folder like he’s looking for something. “Y/n, she’s his target is what you’re saying?”

You have no idea what she said before to bring you into the conversation but you don’t care right now. Eagerly, you lean forward, not wanting to miss a single word about what she says of you.

“No not a target just-“ she makes a frustrated sound. “She had been seeing him a few years ago. Before he was following my husband. We heavily disapproved and they both knew it. Now he’s retaliating against us because we told our daughter about who he really is.”

The air feels tacky and sticky in your throat, stuck like it’s trying to hang around and hear what else she has to say. Because she hasn’t said it yet, that you’re dead. She’s implying it for sure, saying you were with Nico in the past tense, that after they warned you of him that was it. That all of what is coming at them is Nico’s fault, is Nico’s reaction to them stopping your relationship.

Lies, lies, and even more bullshit lies. It’s terrifying, disorienting even that she can do it so easily and without remorse. What else in your life has she lied about and you never knew? Because if it weren’t for the fact that you’ve been with Nico all these years, you’d believe her right now too.

“Would your daughter be willing to give a statement? Tell us what she knows about Hischier and his friends?”

There’s an uncomfortable pause, one that makes your father drop his gaze to the table with what you hope is shame.

“No she wouldn’t,” your mother answers plainly, “we’ve been…estranged with her since everything happened with Hischier. There was a lot of tension and emotions. You know teenage girls and their feelings, they’d rather run than admit they’re wrong about a boy.”

It makes your blood boil. You weren’t a teenager and you weren’t wrong. Your feelings, your emotions were right this whole time. The gut instinct you had at the young age of 21 made a better decision in trusting Nico than hers did in deciding she’d ever be a fit mother.

“So she’s had no contact with you?” Keefe asks and your mother shakes her head. “Has she had contact with Hischier?”

Your mother clicks her tongue. “I don’t believe so, no. My daughter would never make such a dumb decision.”

Ouch, you wince but what can be done. You’re not their daughter. You haven’t been for a long time now. While the reminder hurts, it only throbs dully in that bruised part of your heart. Yeah you lost them, but look at everything you’ve gained.

“Why would Hischier come after you now then? Unless he’s been in contact with her?”

Your father is the one to speak up and you’re grateful. Unlike your mother, he’ll at least give something of significance.

“We ran into her last week at lunch. She was out with another boy and a dog. We tried to talk to her, to ask her how she was doing and about this new man but she freaked.”

Freaked? You freaked? You guess that’s a valid thing to say considering you did well up with tears and almost knock over a table before leaving. But without the context, no that’s not true.

“Freaked how? Did you know she was in town?”

Sighing, he shakes his head. “We had no idea where she’s been. She spoke to my mother for a moment but then got weird. Started to leave and when I tried to tell her to wait she turned her dog at us. This big, vicious thing of a dog. Honestly, it shouldn’t have been around anyone else acting like that. My mother almost had a heart attack.”

As if knowing he’s being talked about, Moose rises from his ball on the floor, tilting his head curiously at Nico.

“Is that you Müsli?” Nico asks teasingly, patting his head. “Vicious thing? Daddy is so proud of you.”

You both know he’s not joking about that. Moose did exactly what he was trained to do. Keep harm away from you at whatever cost. When it comes to protecting you, Moose rivals Nico in his viciousness.

“She just ran?”

“Yes sir,” your father raps his knuckles on the steel table. “The next day the house was broken into. We thought maybe it was no big deal, just something to unnerve us. But then a couple days ago we drove by our cemetery and found something else.”

Oh, you think giddily. They noticed almost right away. You wish you’d thought to leave a camera or something at the site. You’d pay good money right now to see their reactions, the horror on your mother’s face when she saw the scripture and devil horns. You bet she grabbed at the cross on her neck, bet she backed away like she’d been burned.

“There was a headstone placed there. With our names on it and devil horns.” Your father continues. The sign of Nico and the Devils. The horns that are littered around Jersey courtesy of him and his boys.

“We decided to report the break in after that.” Your mother says, “The threat was clear as day. Everywhere that man goes those horns follow.”

You touch the horns around your neck, pulling them out from under the collar of Nico’s leather jacket to thumb at the metal. Does she know just how true that statement is? Does she know just how many wear those horns for Nico? Does she know that you’re one of them?

“Yes we did some digging,” Keefe responds, looking through the folder again. For what, you’re not sure. “Yesterday some officers just did basic investigating of the neighborhood, looking for any suspects. We saw the gravesite but it appeared another one had been there first. Do you have any relatives buried there?”

That wasn’t in the folder. He wasn’t looking for anything, just a way to bring up the topics and questions Nico specifically asked him for. He even told Keefe that he’d illegally placed the new headstone there.

“No we don’t,” your mother says, frowning. “Another headstone? Are you sure?”

“Yes ma’am. It was apparently on the far left plot.”

She makes a noise of realization. “Ah yes we sold that plot after the falling out with our daughter. I’m not sure if anyone new bought it and buried a relative there but it wasn’t us.”

And back to square one on the lying. There’s no way they sold that plot back to the cemetery and then didn’t notice that headstone with your name on it. The dates themselves gave it away. They knew when you picked Nico over them.

“That’s bullshit,” Nico suddenly spits. He’s stepping away from you then, pacing back and forth as he glares daggers at your parents through the glass. “Everything they’ve said this whole time hasn’t been true! Including the part about you being dumb.”

It startles you for a moment, seeing him like that. You know angry Nico, felt the sting of his harsh words and mean eyes. You heard the way he mocked you, cold and brutal when you defied him in Switzerland. You always through he could be meanest when he’s scared but now you think this is it. He’s not scared, not nervous, he’s just unfathomably angry. His neck and cheeks are turning splotchy red, cheeks hollowed by the tight clench of his jaw, but it’s his eyes that are the most telling.

They’re so dark, so unlike the warm honey ones you’re used to. Even when he was mad at you, he’s never looked at you like that before. You’re jarringly informed of why so many people are scared of him.

“I know that Nico,” you say carefully, rising to your feet. Tentatively, you approach him with a hand reaching out to touch him. “I know it’s bullshit Nico, it’s ok.”

He halts, gaze turning to you with such ferocity your heart stutters. “It’s more than bullshit,” he hisses but he lets you touch him, doesn’t move as you take a hold of his wrist. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. You- I mean imagine if they knew that it was you that figured this all out. It was you that got me into their house. That everything coming for them, even this interrogation is you playing games with them. Because you’re smarter than them.”

“I know,” you assure, cupping his face in your other hand. He presses into the touch, eyes fluttering shut. Nico looks so sweet like this, standing over you with his dark eyelashes resting prettily on the apples of his cheeks, leaning into you with the gentlest of movements. You wonder how everyone thinks he’s so hard to read sometimes, especially with what just happened. Because if he opened his eyes right now, you’d know just how upset he is. They’re his tell, always. His eyes and eyebrows have always given him away.

“Imagine how stupid they’ll feel when they realize.” You murmur. “We’ll get to see the looks on their faces when we tell them that the cops are with us. That the whole city is with us and they have nothing left.”

Taking even breaths through his nose, Nico blinks his eyes open. Under his lowered eyebrows he still looks angry, but his gaze is warm and loving again, shining with adoration when he looks at you. “They’re liars Nico. And we’re going to use that against them.”

“Yeah we are,” he promises.

You press your thumb into his clenched jaw, urging him to relax with slow circles. “But you’re not a liar so I need to know why you didn’t tell me you tailed my father.”

His eyebrows soften with guilt. “Because it was pathetic, wasn’t it? Me acting like I was protecting you when I was the one that had hurt you? I had no right to do that and I- I didn’t want you to see how much I failed.”

Your eyebrows knit in concern. Pathetic? Failed? Does he not remember how pathetic and useless you were without him? That you consumed more alcohol in that month than you have your entire life, even now. That you compared every man you met to him, that he followed you everywhere. The smallest of things reminded you of him and once that reminder was there it festered until you were actually envisioning him in front of you.

“You-what Nico? You didn’t fail me, you came back for me. I didn’t- I never tried to get you back. If anyone was pathetic then it was me.”

His frown deepens, dimples popping sadly at the downturn angle of his lips. “No I had just broken your heart baby. You’d lost everything and then I made you think you’d lost me. That’s- none of that was your fault.”

You had lost everything at the time. Not because you’d been disowned by your family and lacked genuine friends, but because you’d lost him.

“Timo,” you murmur, almost afraid to ask. “Did you have him follow me?”

Nico blanches, pulling back from your touch like it’s just stung him. Taking ahold of your wrists, he squeezes them so tight your fingers tingle. “No I didn’t. Timo wasn’t- he wasn’t my friend then. Not really. He was so pissed at me. Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, burning with embarrassment. “You were tailing my dad and I know now that you always intended in coming back from me so I thought maybe you were having him keep an eye on me. He was- he did a lot for me then Nico. And it wouldn’t be the first time you had one of the boys follow me to make sure I was okay.”

Almost desperate, he brings your hands up to his lips, pressing a smattering of tender kisses to your palms. His beard scratches at your fingers. “Timo was there for you because he loves you. He didn’t do much with me then. We could barely sit in the same room together. And I was doing jobs on my own so he was free a lot.”

You let out a sigh of relief, shoulders slumping as you accept his answer. He may have kept things from you before but he’s never lied. As soon as you ask him for something, he always gives his all.

“Okay,” you nod, and he presses one final kiss to the ring on your left hand. “Sorry I just had to know.”

“S’okay,” he promises, watching you for a moment. The questioning happening behind you has long been over, Keefe and his officer now sharing notes, waiting for you and Nico to emerge. Then he’ll hand over the information your parents gave and you’ll have another one up on them. “Can ask me anything, anytime baby, you know that.”

“I know,” you promise, squeezing his hand. “We should get going. We have to meet Alex and John.”

Nico hums in agreement but doesn’t move to leave. Instead he slips his hands out of yours, wrapping them around your shoulders and caging you into his chest. You melt into his hold, face tucked into his shoulder and inhale the rich scent of his cologne.

“In a sec,” he mumbles, “need to put more space between your parents and me.”

Which is fine with you.

23 blocks away, Johnny and Alex move silently through the house Nico had bullied his way into last week. Just as he’d entered, they’d come through the front door with guns tucked into their waistbands and black duffle bags over their shoulders. And for the whole hour and half your parents spent being questioned at the police station, they tucked into every crook and cranny of the house, wireless bugs. No visuals will come with but you’ll have constant access to the sounds in their home.

Johnny is finishing up placing the last black microphone onto the inside paneling of the curtain rod when Alex comes into the kitchen, a vase of flowers in hand. He stops at the sink to fill the vase, oblivious to the way Johnny is watching him in confusion.

“What are you doing?” He asks, leaning against the counter. Alex shuts off the water, tastefully rearranging the white roses.

“Y/n asked me to leave them,” he explains, carrying them over to the dining room table. He places the vase at the center of the table, admiring it for a moment. “Are these the flowers she left at the cemetery?”

Johnny purses his lips. “Yup,” he nods, “so I’m guessing they’re not exactly a gift huh?”

Alex steps back, picking up his duffel bag from the kitchen tile and shouldering it. “No I don’t think it is.”

The significance of them goes unspoken. You’re playing the game too, the twisted and demented narratives they’ve been spinning all turning to this tangled mess of paranoia. You want them to know that the Devils have been here again. Maybe they’ll think it was Nico. Maybe they’ll think it was you.

Either way they’ll know. You’re not backing down again.

~~~~

The steaming shower water fogs up the glass doors of the showers, drips down the bathroom mirrors. Nico’s skin is red from it, splotchy in a way that makes you wince. You have no idea how he’s capable of taking such burning hot showers. Though you can’t say much because the steady jet beating down on your skin is cool compared to the heat of his mouth below your ear.

“Fuck Nico,” you whimper, hips jolting forward when his fingers curl up into your g-spot. He presses a hot kiss to your wet skin, voice deep and husky when he goes, “yeah baby? That your spot?”

“Yes, yes right there Nico.”

You arch down into his hand, head pressing into the tiled wall and the claw clip keeping your hair out of the water digs painfully into your scalp. Not that you care. The feeling is dull, almost nothing compared to the way Nico’s fingers are taking you apart. Thick and calloused, they rub brutally at that sensitive spot inside of you, winding up the invisible string that’s still holding you together.

Your hand shakes, the detached shower head in it trembling as your other hand claws at Nico’s shoulder, desperate for something to ground yourself with. The slight slip of your hand doesn’t go unnoticed however.

“Nuh-uh baby,” Nico grunts, the hand on your waist gripping your wrist. He shifts it back up, directs the jet of water directly on to your throbbing clit. Your legs shake with it, body only head steady by the thick thigh he’s got pressed between yours. “Hold it right there for me.”

It’s too much, his voice, sexy and heavy with his accent, his fingers curling relentlessly inside you, his mouth on your neck, the water stimulating your clit. You feel overpowered in the best way, helpless to him even if you’re the one holding the shower head. “Please, please, please…” you beg, hips shifting on their own accord. You don’t know whether you should be moving down into his fingers or forward towards the stream of water.

“I know baby,” he mumbles, a little mocking in his sympathy. “Feels so good, doesn’t it?”

Blindly, you nod, gnawing at your bottom lips as that thread of pleasure pulls tighter and tighter in your belly. “Keep that hand still,” he reminds, “you’ll come if you do what I tell you, yeah?”

“Yes Nico,” you gasp, unsure if you’re agreeing with his words or the vigor of his fingers. Placating, he nips at the column of your throat, the muscles in his shoulders and arm flexing with each curl of his middle and ring finger.

“Sound so pretty, sweetheart,” he compliments gruffly, chuckling when your pussy bears down on him. “Can you even hear it? How wet you are for me? Dripping down my wrist. Or how about those little sounds baby? Crying for me like that. It’s too good huh? You need to come?”

You can’t hear it, can’t hear anything except his voice and the blood rushing in your ears. He makes you sound pathetic and desperate though, a whiny and sloppy mess just for two fingers in your hole and it’s so hot. The way he says it with awe, never mocking or degrading, but honored.

That thread in you snaps, the coil of your orgasm spinning out in your core in a rush of white hot pleasure. You lose track of holding the shower head exactly where he told you, your limbs shaking and trembling as you pulse around his fingers and claw at his back.

Faintly, you feel his lips moving against your ear, his hand leaving your hip to cover the one you had holding the shower head. He’s gently with it, drawing your hand back and then moving it in slow circles, dragging out the last aftershocks of your orgasm.

His hand stills, letting your trembling one let go in favor of holding his bicep that’s still flexing with the lazy drag of his fingers in your pussy. The static in your head fizzles out as he returns the shower head to its holder, softly gripping your side again.

“You okay?” He murmurs, kissing your damp temple. “Done?”

Tongue heavy, you blink up at the ceiling and nod, then mumble out “mhm Nico.” Another kiss to the bulb of your nose, one to your chin, his lips whispering light apologies as he slips his hand from between your thighs, you wincing in overstimulation. You’re still staring blankly at the ceiling when he grips your chin between two fingers, tilting your head down to look at him and you frown at the sticky feeling on the pads of his fingers.

“Ew Nico you did not-“

He buttons his mouth to yours, licking into your slack mouth and giving you a taste of yourself. Your complaint from earlier goes forgotten. When did he stuff his fingers in his mouth and lick them clean?

“Tell me for real now,” he says when you part. “Are you okay? With everything?”

It’s an odd place for him to be checking in, an odd time too with the way your thighs are still quaking but it’s sweet too. Because to him there’s never a bad or weird place to make sure you’re okay.

“I am,” you promise. His gaze is soft and imploring when you finally get your brain to focus, stirring with arousal but more concerned with you than himself. “I know it’s a lot- or it should be a lot- but it doesn’t feel like it. I just feel like I’ve earned this I guess.”

“You have,” he encourages, wide palms cupping either side of your face. “You’ve earned the right to break the Geneva Convention I think.”

“Wow,” you giggle, “permission from the Swiss himself. Maybe I will then.”

He chuckles, all deep and rumbly in his chest as he touches his forehead to yours, wet hair hanging over his dark eyebrows. “Before we do that, you don’t need anything, right? Like you’re not feeling…sad again?”

Sad. Depressed. The word you’ve never let him use even though it was true. It’s always that you were sick or unwell because you were. You took meds though and you went to the doctor and you’re better now. For some reason though that word gets stuck in your throat, has been lodged there since the first day you came out of therapy with an official diagnosis and prescription. And when Nico saw it, asked you what it was for you couldn’t even say the word then. You simply showed him the slip.

“I’m not…” you pause, unable to look into his eyes as you clear your throat, feel the words on your tongue. If you can’t say it, it’s because it’s still there right? You don’t feel like it’s there though. This is the happiest you’ve been in years. So you need to say it.

You inhale, steel yourself. “I’m not depressed.”

His eyebrows shoot up, eyes widening in surprise that you’ve actually said it out loud. But then he goes soft again, shock turning to awe and his eyes shine with happiness when you finally meet his gaze again.

“That’s good baby,” he says with earnest. “That’s so good. M’so proud of you.”

Your ears go hot, body flush with heat. “It’s you. I feel better with you. Like you’re so solid all the time I don’t ever have to worry.”

He’s silent for a moment, dimples sinking into his cheeks as the two of you listen to the lukewarm water splatter into the opposite shower wall. Nico butts his nose into yours. “I- I’m glad. You know I’ve got you.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “No pressure or anything Neeky.”

He laughs, eyes crinkling fondly before he’s closing his mouth to yours again. Nico kisses you into the shower wall for a few more minutes, strong and solid just like you said he was, like he’s telling you just what he thinks of the ‘pressure’ of taking care of you. The shower water grows icy though and the two of you get out shivering, fighting over the large fluffy towel hanging on the bathroom door before Nico manhandles you into wrapping up with him.

You spend the rest of the morning giggling and kissing him, sharing pecks and teasing comments as the two of you dress and get Moose ready to go. Still laughing as you pile the dog and Alex into the car, trying not to blush when Alex visibly brightens in the backseat at your bubbly mood today.

That floaty feeling is still there when Nico pulls up behind Timo and Johnny at the cemetery, the two older men already chatting with the groundskeeper. Timo is the first to greet you when you get out of the car, abandoning the conversation to throw his arms out wide and you drop Nico’s hand in favor of skipping over to hug him.

“Oh god I miss you,” you whine dramatically, Moose wondering up lazily behind you to sniff at Timo’s shoes. “We used to see each other everyday and now I’m stuck with him.”

“Oh okay,” Nico says from behind you, his large palm swatting at your ass in a stinging slap. You flinch away from him, pouting as he stares you down through narrowed eyes. Moose makes an unhappy growl in his chest that Nico chooses to ignore. You scratch behind the dog’s ear in appreciation.

“Now who’s being inappropriate in a cemetery,” you mock, slipping up and laughing when his smile widens with delight.

“You’re chipper today,” Timo interrupts, falling into step at your side as you all gather back with Johnny and the groundskeeper. “Good morning?”

“Yeah,” you laugh, leaning into his shoulder and lowering your voice. “It was a really good morning. In the shower specifically.”

He snorts, elbowing you into Nico and your fiancé snatches up your hand in his, a knowing smirk on his face. You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s in on the bit, even if he didn’t explicitly hear you talking to Timo. The conversation stops there, replaced by a new one as Nico greets the man waiting with Johnny.

“Hisch,” he nods, “I was just telling your boys here that I looked into that site. There’s a transaction under that last name of when they bought all three plots but that’s all. Clerk made a note though that about a year ago they came by and looked into the price point of selling back to the cemetery but nothing official happened.”

Nico’s eyebrows stitch into a frown. “They never sold the third one? Is there any record of them laying that headstone there?”

The groundskeeper scratches at his neck uncomfortably. “Nah man. If they sold it, it was done under the table to someone else which you can’t do without approval here. Must’ve been done illegally. And there’s no record of the headstone either. Don’t even know who made it. Must’ve been laid there before I got here though.”

Nico’s jaw ticks, his grip on your hand tightening for a moment. Johnny sighs through his nose, shifting his weight onto one leg. “That’s it? They just did it all illegally and now no one knows anything?”

Helpless, the guy shrugs. “I’m really sorry. I wish I could help but this is my first summer here and I don’t know who even helped those guys out with doing that.”

Almost in sync all four boys huff, clearly annoyed and disappointed at the lack of information they’ve been given. You can feel it radiating off of Nico, the thought that he’s paying this guy for nothing if he can’t help them.

“It’s fine,” you assure the poor groundskeeper who’s already done more than he could. “I mean, lots of things can be done illegally for the right price so just-thanks for your help.”

He smiles in thanks at you, look to Nico imploringly. You’re fiancé waves him off and the guys almost scrambles away, heading back towards the cart he must’ve drove over here to meet Johnny and Timo.

“We’re never going to figure out where that headstone came from,” Timo says, “not unless we get her parents talking.”

Alex perks up. “We have! Well kind of. Johnny and I haven’t listened to all the bugs yet but I mean, we can probably scare them into talking about it right?”

It’s a smart idea, you’ll admit. And Nico must think so too because he tilts his head thoughtfully, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he thinks.

“Could work,” Nico finally agrees. “Maybe get Keefe to call them back in, nonna too this time. Have his question them separately about the grave. Play it off like he’s investigating us so he needs to know where the stones came from. If they think it’ll keep them safe, they might admit who they sold it to.”

The five of you lapse into silence, thinking it over. You saw first hand how your parents lied to Keefe. They must not be too concerned with secrets infringing on their goal of taking down Nico if they blatantly made up stories just days ago. They haven’t spoken to your nonna though, left her waiting in the front area during their questioning but with the right questions she might speak. After all, she has no background with Nico or your relationship with him. All she knows is what your parents told her. And who knows what was true there. Maybe you could even catch them in a lie.

“Let’s head home and start sorting through audio files then,” Johnny finally says, clapping Alex on the back. “Smart idea though kid.”

You’re trudging back to the car when Alex stops, lightly touching your free hand. You look to him, find him pointing to a bouquet of lilies on a gravesite. “Those are nice,” he says casually. “Like for a wedding.”

His sly smile gets you, makes you and Nico both laugh. He reaches around you, flicking Alex on the ear. “Stop prying would ya? This is personal.” You shoo Nico away, taking ahold of Alex’s hand and swinging them between you.

“They are pretty but we already picked flowers.”

Timo and Johnny stop, the three of you barely having time to stop before you’d bump into their backs. They both turn around, eyes wide like they can’t believe what you just said.

“You’ve been wedding planning?” Johnny asks in disbelief. “Finally?”

And well that’s a little offensive because you’ve had a lot going on! You and Nico wanted to enjoy the holidays and bask in your engagement for a bit before jumping into planning. And then you went to Vancouver and that was a mess. With Nico working so much now and you and the boys getting Hischier Enterprises together, you’ve been busy. Not putting off wedding planning or anything. Just busy.

“For your information we’ve done a lot of planning.” You scoff, jabbing at his shoulder.

“Do you have a date yet?” Alex cuts in, “A venue? Am I in the wedding? Is that allowed actually-“

“Okay calm down,” Nico interrupts, giving them all a pointed look. “Nothing has been ordered or reserved or anything, we’ve just agreed on some things. Wedding party not being one of them so don’t even ask.”

Wedding party, you internally wince. That’s going to be the worst part of the wedding you think. That’s a topic you and Nico haven’t even brought up, well aware that there’s going to be overlap in who you both want standing next to you. You have no doubt that all three of the men in front of you will be in the wedding but you have no idea where and with who.

“We have to settle on a date and venue first,” you tell Alex, squeezing his hand. Slowly, you all continue moving to the car, dragging your feet because Moose is taking his time to sniff at every blade of grass before Nico steps on them.

“Sweden is nice,” he offers innocently. “Really nice, especially in the summer. Have you heard of Midsummer?”

“I have,” you nod, “but we don’t know if we want to do something in Europe. We have to figure out guest lists first.”

“I think you could do France,” Timo throws out over his shoulder. “Nina would be over the moon. And it’s nice there.”

Nico, tone a little suspicious is the one to respond. “Since when are you thinking about Nina? Or France?”

It makes you pause, eyeing the back of Timo’s head as he shrugs. You still haven’t had time to talk about his trip to Switzerland. Did he see Nina there? Is that why he’s thinking of her? Does Nico think that Timo dropped in on his family?

“S’just close to home without being in Switzerland, right?” Your best friend deflects. Questioningly, you turn to Nico. He’s frowning at Timo too, cheek flexing as he gnaws at the inside of it. Something is going on there and you have no idea what. But you’ll find out, that’s for sure. Even if it means talking to Nina yourself.

“Doesn’t matter right now anyway,” Nico finally reminds, any playfulness he had from this morning completely gone. “Wedding can wait. We all need to focus on this and that stupid fucking headstone.”

He goes on to remind Johnny of the quickest way to sort through the audio, reminding him to actually let Alex do some of it too so that he can learn the skill. And two sets of ears is better than one. You’ve stopped listening by then though because your phone chirps from the pocket of Nico’s leather jacket, and you dig it out to an email notification.

Not even to your personal email though. It’s to the default, private user email that everyone under Hischier Enterprises is given when you officially hired them. It’s an odd combination of numbers in place of a name, the domain email being one you don’t recognize. You quickly unlock your phone, opening up the notification in the mail app.

They’ll never tell you anything about the headstone. At least no one that’s left in the clerks office. I can help but not right now. Need things to calm down first. Sorry. Be in touch when I can.

-M73

“Nico,” you call, steps faltering as the full message hits you. Whoever this is, however they got your email and know about it all, they’re not a Devil.

“What?” He asks, grabbing both of your arms, crowding around you. “What is it baby?”

You hand him your phone, biting at your bottom lip as the other boys press in around you, shielding you and Nico as he reads over the email. You don’t even know what to say. Not really. That email isn’t listed to anyone public. It’s for clients only meaning it had to come from someone who’s under contract with the Devils. Or really close with a business that is. You think of the tag line at the end. M73.

Your mother was born in 73. Not that you’d ever think she’s helping you. The number is significant to her though. After all it was the passcode to all her things when you were a kid, the pin on her credit card, the combination on the safe in her closet, the code to unlocking her car. The M could be anything of your honest but there’s something about it that sticks out.

“M73,” Nico murmurs, looking up at you. “Who is that? Do you know anyone it could be?”

It stupid. A thought you shouldn’t even have but as the boys pass the phone around you become more and more convinced. Because she wasn’t in that room with your parents. They didn’t want her to know everything, or didn’t want her telling Keefe that your parents faked your death. Maybe she knows something.

“My mom, she was born in 73,” you tell him, still hesitating. “And my nonna, she was married that same year. It was her second husband I think but his name was Mateo and everyone always said how in love she was with him. Like obsessed. She’d talk about him all the time.”

It’s embarrassing the way Nico’s face crumples into a pitying look. Like he doesn’t believe you, like he thinks you’re grasping at straws to salvage something. Maybe you are because it does feel stupid. How would your nonna be able to get ahold of this email? And who would put her in danger in favor of protecting that gravesite?

But it feels right. At least you think it does.

“Baby,” he sighs softly, “this could’ve come from anywhere. It could just be something to throw us off even. I don’t- I don’t know how your grandma would even know what’s going on.”

He’s right. You know he’s right. The thought is almost impossible. She was sick, really sick. Even if she’s capable of travel now, you don’t know how she’d be able to get away from your parents for all of this. You don’t even know if she knows how to send an email if you’re being honest. Still, it’s disappointing to hear, makes you deflate pathetically and you have to swallow hard to get rid of the lump in your throat.

Alex hands your phone back, watching the side of your face intently as you stare at Nico’s shoes. He sighs again, squeezing your biceps as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry baby. Maybe it’s her but we don’t know enough so maybe we should just ignore it for now. Focus on the bugging system and all.”

Numbly, you nod. Focus on the plan, on what you have now. That’s the protocol but as you tuck your phone away, you can’t shake it. You know that message is real, that’s it’s not some joke or distraction. It was done too hastily, too informal. If you didn’t know better, you’d say it sounds like Alex or Jack wrote it. It’s filled with the genuine concern of someone trying to help.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. Nico pulls back, eyebrows high on his forehead as he stares blankly at you. “It’s real. I know it is. The message is too rushed and- I don’t know but I know that whoever it is they’re actually trying to help.”

To his credit, Nico doesn’t shoot down the idea even if he’s not entirely convinced. You’ve always had good intuition though, have known to trust your gut. It’s what gave away Rino and Lena in Switzerland. It’s what got you Johnny and Alex. Nico knows that. Maybe that’s why he’s willing to entertain the idea.

“Okay baby,” he shushes, “if you really think so we’ll figure it out, yeah?” He waits for you to nod, for the tension to leave your shoulders before continuing. “We’ll focus on your nonna then, listen to see if she mentions Mateo or her wedding at all. Anything that might connect to the email.”

Grateful, you nod. Then- “or the businesses,” you add, looking to Johnny and Alex. “This email is only accessible to people under contracts with us. If she mentions any of the businesses or clients that could be how she got it.”

It’s a long shot. People of her age aren’t very tech savvy but it’s all you can think of. She’s smart enough to know that if she had to get ahold of you away from your parents, an email could work. And she’d have no shame in asking someone for help, you know that. Maybe she picked up on what the Devils horns on the windows mean. Maybe she went to one of them looking for you.

You ignore the nagging voice reminding you that anyone who stumbles in looking for you or Nico gets reported directly to him.

You have to believe it’s her because there’s no other options.

“We’ll be thorough,” Johnny promises. “Can even listen in with us if you want.”

“Yeah,” Alex pipes up, “you can show me how to do the audio stuff instead of Johnny.”

Letting out a breath of relief, you give him a thankful smile. Alex preens under it, cheeks going red when you press a motherly kiss to his cheek. Before any of them can break away to leave, Nico catches your jaw, makes you look at him.

“I’m trusting you on this,” he says carefully, head tilted in that way that means business, that he’s not at all playing around with this. “I know you’ve got some kind of sixth sense for this but with everything that’s coming, I have to be extra careful, okay?”

Intently, you nod, the action cut short by his grip on your chin.

“M’gonna call in a couple back-ups. Just reinforcements in case we miss something here.”

It’s not a surprise to you. You’ve been at home with him all week, have helped him sort through things in the home office. Including files of potential Devs and prospects. It is a shock to the others though, Timo especially who has never seen Nico call in a prospect before. Not since Luke and he only did that because it was Luke and Jack.

“What? Who?” Your best friend gasps. “And don’t say any of Luca’s friends or whatever from home because I don’t trust those dickheads any further than I could throw them-“

“It’s not them,” Nico interrupts, running a hand through his hair. He releases your jaw, knuckling softly at the curve of your chin, all sweet and tender before looking to Timo. “I would never use Luca’s guys. I’ve got a couple rookies in Utica that look pretty good.”

“Utica?” Timo balks, “you’re bringing up one of them?”

Nico clears his throat. “No, I’m bringing up a couple of them.” He doesn’t expand further than that and no one asks him too. Even if they want to poke at him, beg him for more information. Utica isn’t far from here. He can have the call ups here tomorrow if he wanted. They can all wait.

“Are you sure?” You ask him though, because you already know who he’s been looking at. You didn’t study them as intently, but you read over the files with him, memorized their names and specialities. “They’re still training. Are they ready for this?”

He doesn’t flinch. “They’re going to have to be because we need them.”

You let him tuck you into his side, a protective arm around your shoulder and when the boys all part, Moose breaks from the circle he was sniffing around you all to join at your side. Moving back towards the cars, pace quicker now that you’ve all been thrown by the email and the call-ups, you send a mental prayer out to whoever is listening because S. Nemec and S. Casey have no idea what they’re about to be called into.

[shadyufo]

The babies are getting so big!! They've moved into the coop full-time now and overall they've been getting along really well with Foggy and Olivia. Foggy is still the big bad boss of the coop but for the most part she's been ignoring the babies and they in turn give her a wide berth.

Very surprised at how light-colored Mink has gotten! She and the other Easter Egger, Moose, are both starting to really grow their mutton chops out. Honey Bee and Buttercup the Buff Orpingtons are getting fluffier by the day. Buttercup loves to sit in my lap and on top of my head haha. <3

[thetreehousenews]

Land of Whispering Pines 🌲

Good morning! May the Great Spirit bless you 🙏

It's a beautiful sunny morning ☀️ here and the birds 🦜 are a-singin'' here in the Niagara Peninsula region of Ontario. Don't go to Ohio, go to Ontario, Canada ~♪♫♭~♪♫~ where the moose roam in the fields of Moosennee. 🍁 I certainly didn't waste time after my cereal to go sit out in my green space with my coffee. I almost drifted away to Wonderland in the warm morning sun. All systems appear to be operational, and everything is a go! Now, to turn on the juice to activate the brain for the day. C.O.F.F.E.E. ☕ Nothin' like a bit of humor to start the day. Well, some like their coffee black, I prefer mine with a little cream, and I pass on the sugar. I'm not a sweets person, but sometimes it doesn't hurt to throw in a little sugar when needed.

My only other plan for today, besides reporting the news, is to wash the windows. Maybe walk tomorrow. I don't miss my exercise. I use the cubie and the stair climber stand-up machine for at least half an hour per day. Now, onto the international news for the day. Thank you for reading the News.

TODAY'S DISCUSSION:

When and when not to Humor

Close follow-up of yesterdays Discussion Tree House News

TREE HOUSE NEWS🏡 June 27, at 100:35 AM

About using the humor side of things.

Example. Below is my own experience:

I once worked for a grouchy boss who never had anything nice to say at the start of the morning, grumbling like Scrooge. One morning, he and his wife, both dressed up as if they were going to a special occasion, I thought, 'That's good, I'll be the boss of the shop for the day.' As they walked into the room, he began his usual grumbling. I stood up, curtsied slightly, and politely said, Good morning to you, too, with a smile. His wife laughed her arse off. It worked, and I didn't forget that; it was the first tool I learned when I became a social worker, some years later - humor.

- Google Search -

Using Humor To Resolve Conflict:

What type of stress is relieved by laughing loudly?

Laughter is the Best Medicine - HelpGuide.org

A good, hearty laugh relieves physical tension and stress, leaving your muscles relaxed for up to 45 minutes after. Laughter boosts the immune system. Laughter decreases stress hormones and increases immune cells and infection-fighting antibodies, thus improving your resistance to disease. May 16, 2025

Usually, when I make fun of something, it's to lighten up a heavy topic. Better to laugh than get angry over something you can't do anything about, or the cat already got out of the bag, or it's already spilled milk. Ya can'ts put the spilt milk back in the jug!

BREAKING NEWS:

Senate votes to move forward on Trump’s ‘big, beautiful bill,’ though measure’s fate remains in question

Senate Republicans took a major step toward delivering President Donald Trump his “big, beautiful bill” late Saturday, though the fate of the giant tax cuts and spending measure is still in question as other hurdles remain.

After an hourslong push by Senate GOP leaders Saturday, the bill cleared a key procedural vote, 51-49. Republican leaders must now satisfy numerous holdouts still demanding changes to the bill. Trump’s multitrillion-dollar bill would lower federal taxes and infuse more money into the Pentagon and border security agencies, while downsizing government safety-net programs including Medicaid.

The timeline is extremely tight: Trump has demanded to sign the bill on the Fourth of July, but the measure must still go back to the House if it passes the Senate. Saturday’s vote allows the Senate to begin debating Trump’s bill, teeing up a final passage vote in that chamber as soon as Monday. In a late-night post on social media, Trump declared a “GREAT VICTORY” after the bill cleared the Senate, offering praise to four key senators who shifted their votes to get the procedural bill over the finish line...

Read More:

Updated 2:30 AM EDT, Sun June 29, 2025

- CNN -

UN nuclear watchdog chief says Iran could again begin enriching uranium in ‘matter of months’

The head of the UN’s nuclear watchdog says US strikes on Iran fell short of causing total damage to its nuclear program and that Tehran could restart enriching uranium “in a matter of months,” contradicting President Donald Trump’s claims the US set Tehran’s ambitions back by decades.

Rafael Grossi’s comments appear to support an early assessment from the Pentagon’s Defense Intelligence Agency, first reported on by CNN, which suggests the United States’ strikes on key Iranian nuclear sites last week did not destroy the core components of its nuclear program, and likely only set it back by months.

While the final military and intelligence assessment has yet to come, Trump has repeatedly claimed to have “completely and totally obliterated” Tehran’s nuclear program.

The 12-day conflict between Israel and Iran began earlier this month when Israel launched an unprecedented attack it said aimed at preventing Tehran developing a nuclear bomb. Iran has insisted its nuclear program is for peaceful purposes...

Read More:

Published 6:17 AM EDT, Sun June 29, 2025

- CNN -

Republican plans to overhaul Medicaid are already shaking up the 2026 midterms

Senate Republicans have yet to finalize their version of President Donald Trump’s sweeping domestic policy proposal, but GOP lawmakers up for reelection in 2026 are bracing for the political impact of the bill’s Medicaid cuts.

Sen. Susan Collins of Maine is pushing for a provider relief fund. Sen. Thom Tillis of North Carolina has warned GOP leaders about how many in his state could lose care. And Sen. Joni Ernst of Iowa has picked up a crop of Democratic challengers campaigning off her “Well, we all are going to die” response to a town hall protester.

Tens of thousands of people could lose coverage in each of those three senators’ states, according to a KFF analysis on the version of the bill passed by the Republican-led House last month. Beleaguered Democrats, meanwhile, hope that laser-focusing on health care will help them chip away at the Republicans’ 53-seat Senate majority and take back the House. A key part of Democratic messaging has been to tie the Medicaid cuts, which would largely affect low-income Americans, to tax breaks for the wealthy...

Read More:

Published 6:00 AM EDT, Sat June 28, 2025

- CNN -

CANADIAN NEWS:

Teacher shortages persisted this school year. What's being done to fill the gap for the next?

Teacher shortages have become an issue for nearly every province and territory

For several months this year, Katherine Korakakis' kids had substitute instructors that were "not qualified to teach the subject," said the Montreal parent, whose province started this school year thousands of teachers short. "It wasn't a math teacher who was teaching math. It wasn't a French teacher who was teaching French."

She was already worried about learning loss after the pandemic, and scrambled to get her teens extra tutoring, a luxury she knows not everyone can afford. "Having a child score in the high 90s … one year in math and then having a non-qualified teacher coming in the second year and the child scoring a 50 — there's something wrong here," she said. Teacher shortages have become an issue in nearly every province and territory. Kids facing one substitute teacher after another. French taught by a non-speaker. Relying on uncertified adults to supervise classrooms.

While some governments suggest an aging workforce and growing populations are behind the shortages, teachers themselves point to working conditions. So what's being done to improve the situation for next year?...

'Just getting through the day':

Nearly 200 uncertified teachers now filling N.B. teacher shortage

Quebec relies on thousands of uncertified teachers

B.C. boy denied full-time class due to lack of school assistants

What's influencing shortages?:

Territory considering Whitehorse school's proposal for more full-time substitute teachers amid shortage

Ontario teacher shortage to worsen in 2027, ministry document warns

Job 'isn't worth the conditions that we're facing':

What's being done about shortages:

Launching new recruitment campaigns and strategies (N.B. and Alberta).

Funding programs for rural and remote teacher candidates to train in their home communities (B.C. and Alberta).

Bursaries for teacher-candidates or cash incentives for new teachers who relocate to remote regions (B.C. and Alberta).

Developing certification programs targeting those without formal qualifications already teaching in schools (Quebec).

What do aspiring teachers think?:

Read More:

Jun 29, 2025 4:00 AM EDT | Last Updated: 6 hours ago

- CBC -

♪♫NATURE'S SOUNDS AND MUSIC TO SOOTH THE SOUL♪♫

🌸 🌺 🪷 ~ Come with me to a gentle place to be ~ 🌸 🌺 🪷

[shores-of-oblivion]

I've been playing a ridiculous amount of Elden Ring lately and wanted to share some highlights so far. In no particular order:

"Hello, welcome to Elden Ring, you are a Maidenless scrub. Fuck you."

Garfield the Grafted and his fucking awesome dragon arm. Stormveil Castle too, it's a very fun dungeon. I like the part where birds throw explosive barrels at you.

BIG GOLDEN TREE

Summons. I have three wolves I summon quite often and they're the best, I fucking love them. Not only do they make boss fights a bit easier but it feels so good to finally harness FromSofts ultimate power: packs of rabid fucking canines

The magical fire breathing moose boss

Swampy areas and the giant crab/lobster enemies. Very fun.

The underground caves filled with giant ants. Also very fun. I like how much of this game is expanding Dark Souls into a high fantasy setting instead of their usual grim/dark fantasy.

T H E F I N G E R S

Ranni. She's just so pretty and I love her giant witch hat. I gave her a deadly God killing knife and I have no idea what she's gonna do with it.

Marcille and everything about Scarlet Rot. I gave her a cool Valkyrie (heh) prosthetic arm and she helped me kill a boss. I love her.

The insane party that is the Starscourge fight. I've always wanted a Dark Souls boss fight with more than one or two allies.

All of Caelid. Horror themed enemies (my favourite are the horrible crow monsters) and scarlet rot and so so much red.

Multiple instances of "how big is this fucking game?!"

Ashes of War and that whole gameplay concept. "What if Dark Souls but extra fucking rad abilities." Genius. Quickstep is my favourite. It makes me feel good at the game when I dodge and step around attacks.

I'm currently making my way through Leyndell, a big big city that feels like Anor Londo. I have no idea how much of the game I have left, it feels like this would be a good place to start the final act, what with finally making it to the big tree, but I haven't even been destroyed by Malenia yet so I'm sure I've got plenty more stuff to work through. (God I'm so excited for her, yes hello 8ft tall swordswoman, please turn me into finely diced chunks)

[monstrousgourmandizingcats]

WIP game

Rules: you will be given a word. Then you share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word!

Tagged by @staghunters with the word "moose"!

My main WIP at the moment is the novella with the working title Arsonist of Paradise that I've mentioned a few times before.

under the cut:

M: More things clanged open and a woman who was also some sort of bailiff, jailer, or the like came in and took Carol by the arm. She took her out to do some more paperwork. Carol saw the charges that were being prepared against her. There were lots.

            She also heard chatter, people who worked in law enforcement, the same field that Officer Chris Landis of the Orleans County Sheriff’s Office had worked in, talking amongst themselves.

            “I have got to break up with him. I have got to just fucking break up with him, pardon my French.”

            “They’d say all sorts of racist things to one another and about one another. They were just very racist people, or at least they acted that way, and it was really unpleasant to be around them, even though it didn’t seem to upset any of them when they were the butt of it.”

            “The announcement was a super-spreader event. Of course that happened. None of this should surprise us at this point.”

            “My great-uncle says his bridge buddy in The Villages, which is really what they call it, is on a ventilator. This was Jack Korn, who played clarinet in that band.”

            “I don’t know, I don’t think anal ‘hurts’ as much as—oh. Sorry, boss.”

            “Can’t believe this. So unprofessional. Anyway, you were saying about your mom’s leukemia?”

            “He saw one of those infographic things they do on Instagram. Five or six paragraphs that are really more like bullet points, dark purple background, I’m sure you’ve seen them. Anyway, from this he decided that the real thing to do about his situation was to take to the open roads and start boning up on naval history.”

            “No, you’re thinking of the wrong ‘Goblin Market.’ That’s that woman who used to draw for Playboy. This is some other illustrator.”

            “Album of the year. Phoebe has done so much for us.”

            “New Jersey? They got the New Jersey State Police involved? Sorry, I know it’s not my department but…how?”

O: On it an eagle, two kinds of hawk, a Canada goose, a loon, and a mallard revolved and cavorted continually. The eagle and one of the hawks had little glass bead eyes and so when the light glanced off them just so they shone gold-silver. Officer Chris Landis of the Orleans County Sheriff’s Office seemed for some reason to regard the mobile skeptically, as if migratory birds struck him as a form of foreign influence, perhaps.

O: “Oh, absolutely wonderful. One moment.” Alexis sat down and booted up her computer and opened up Internet Explorer. “Okay, I’m checking his website now.

            “Oh for crying out loud,” she said then to Shana. “Yes, I see what you mean. This could definitely bring even more attention that my family really doesn’t need right now.”

S: She put on a Rimsky-Korsakov CD as she drove; it was in the little black CD case that she carried around with her. She was lucky that she had rented a car that was old enough to have a CD player that she understood in a more or less intuitive way how one was to use. You did not, appallingly, get that always, any longer. Alexis mused, as often, on how in twenty or thirty years’ time her instincts about politics would probably take on a strongly reactionary flavor, although she doubted the way she actually voted ever would. Filial piety of the extreme kind that she was exhibiting right now demanded also, in this part of the country, maintaining a certain kind of leave-me-alone liberalism, an idea of a center-left that was devoted to empowering the little people to tell the big people (and other little people as well, sometimes) to fuck off. Certainly it was hard to convince oneself that this was what Trump was about; she was not following the election very closely at this point, but Shana and Shana’s friends ranted about it a lot, and there was an all-pervading aura of protagonistic angst in the country that struck almost everyone they knew as unnecessary and offensive. Rimsky-Korsakov was probably not to the Right’s taste now, anyway; he had probably not been the right kind of Russian for them.

E: “Everything they had was borrowed,” Carol was saying; she sounded to Chris like she was quoting something; “they had nothing of their own at all. Nothing. In spite of this, my brother said, they were touchy and conceited, and thought they owned the world.”

            “They? Who are these ‘they’?”

            “My children, my grandchildren, me, you, George, your George—Officer Cornwall,” Carol said, making an effort to express this honestly over against what Wintermute was halfheartedly insisting she say or do instead. “1975, 2020, hell, even way back when Jimmy died, we’re all just fighting over who to throw tons and tons of extra money at, and how, when having the extra money to throw around at all is a great gift. People are so ungrateful now, myself not least of all. George dying of coronavirus in a hospital is probably better than George dying of coronavirus at home, if we assume he’s even coherent enough to prefer one over the other at all. But at this point, God help me, it seems to me like you people are just trying to win a power struggle, by hook or by crook, and it’s that that I won’t abide; it’s that that George won’t abide, that he still has enough wits about him to reject. I’m going to fight you in the dust, Chris.”

Tagging @lucythornwalter with the word "blood" and @carys-the-ninth (if she's writing anything right now) with the word "snowy"!

[ratsoh-writes]

Which of your skellies are smokers?

Smoking is bad for you!!! :(, they would never be caught dead with a cigarette! Will be very disappointed in any friend who takes it up: papyrus willow oak star sugar rust green boss cider dandy filly compass taffy pudding rowdy Pluto Jupiter Helios Artemis atlas gamble Jasper finn Pearl silex Ollivander Hilda saga Barin yarrow thistle sparks salt pepper sir cricket gem magma tremor crow mango papaya

Doesn’t care if someone else smokes, but has zero interest in it themself: mal charm rhythm ace pitch barley Colby gears tinker stitches basilisk Seth Alden arwin zen weasel butler Flambe fossil quill roost

Has tried smoking once. Wasn’t for them: sans Pop peaches rancher possum orion fisher shield lord gold stein

Smokes on rare occasions when they need to calm their nerves, or in a social setting: edge honey noir lilac basil ram partner slugger steel dice foxglove wine lush pesto harpy Victoria

Smokes regularly: red G bruiser moose maple swine hook captain periwinkle coffee lens

Smokes so much it’s become part of their natural scent as well: cash snipe butch slim cigar sails mutt

Whew! That’s a big list!

Here’s some fun facts about smoking in ebott!

Human cigarettes are extremely toxic to any monster subspecies that doesn’t have a natural poison affinity! Instead the majority of monsters smoke a type of plant called cay-mint!

Cay-mint: a greenish grey mint plant that grows very low to the ground. Its leaves are sharp looking and slightly curved resembling a canine tooth. The plant has a musky smell like a mixture of spearmint, dirt and wet dog :(. When eaten it has a calming effect on magical creatures, but has zero effect on humans and normal animals.

There’s dozens of brands of monster cigarettes that use this plant instead of tobacco. While they don’t immediately get a monster sick like human smokes do, regularly smoking cay-mint over time does in fact come with health problems like:

Hair and fur thinning

Increased anxiety or stress levels

Lowering of the DF stat

Stomach sensitivity, having more trouble processing heavier or non magic foods. Inability to tolerate overseas human foods.

Slowed physical healing rates.

Lowered fertility

Foggy mind, lethargy and lack of motivation.

Muscle twitches and spasms

There’s also the fact that cay-mint can be extremely addictive just like nicotine. Any monster under 25 is banned from buying cay-mint products and it is generally discouraged to take it up. Smoking is still pretty wide spread though.

Popular monster cigarette brands:

Dog Treats: the biggest type of monster smokes around, dog treats are cigarettes made from dried cay-mint rolled in a type of rice paper made in waterfall. You light the end of the cigarette where the cay mint is packed, and when you’re done you can eat the rest of the roll. The rolls do smell a bit like burnt rice though.

Gentlemonster: a more high end cigar brand that includes sage, white pepper, and rosemary in the cigar for a more fresh scent. The cay content is also pretty high in these cigars. If you smoke enough of them in a short amount of time, you can achieve a high not unlike smoking weed.

Loose-ends: popular with the fell monsters, these cheap cigarettes come pre-wrapped and can be lit by striking the end against a hard surface. No need for a match or lighter. They’re a huge fkn fire hazard though, and many complain they smell like roadkill.