#Nico: *sliding down in his seat hiding his face with his hand*

[sodamnbored]

Will, smugly: Yep, off on a romantic trip to Tartarus with Nico, my boyfriend.

Jason, just as cocky: If he’s your man, then why is he dreaming about my strong arms around him?

[mikkomacko]

Him and I - Broad Street Bullies

Mob Boss Nico Hischier x female reader

Warnings: kidnapping, cussing, blood, weapons, general violence and threats

A/n: She's finally here!! This is a blurb from the beginning months of Mob Boss Nico and reader's relationship. It is extremely long but I tried to keep it as short as possible without cutting out any pivotal moments or details. Also disclaimer, I have nothing against the Flyers and they're simply a plot tool in this.

Thanks for reading!

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The streets of Manhattan are busy, even with the chilly fall weather. The line outside of Lady Liberty stretches around the block, all the rich and famous of New York trying to get in.

Nico doesn’t care. He pushes through the groups of people, feels the weight of the gun in his waistband as he shoulders his way to the front of the line. Igor is bouncer tonight, long hair tucked back under a beanie and he’s smiling and laughing with the group of blonde influencers at the front of the line when Nico gets there.

The smile quickly falls when Nico splits through the group, grabbing Igor by the collar or his long sleeve. Someone gasps behind him, a few people shout at him but it falls on deaf ears.

“I’m here to see Trouba,” he grits out, “now!”

Eyes wide, Igor lifts his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. Give us a sec would ya?”

Nico lets him go, clenching and unclenching his jaw as Igor calls over Rempe and mutters instructions in the rookies ear. A hand slides up Nico's bicep, fingers tapping at the clenched muscle.

"Hey handsome," a drunken voice purrs. Nico's ears go hot, anger flushing through his body and he shakes the girls hand off, glaring over his shoulder at the honey blonde making eyes at him. Even in her drunken state she flinches away, the rest of her group yanking her a couple steps back.

When he turns back forward, Rempe is already watching him and the stupid kid has the audacity to smirk and wink at him as he heads to the bar.

That’s all it takes for Nico to lurch forward, yanking the security rope down and storming towards the door.

“Whoa, whoa, Hischier!” Igor cuts him off, shoving at his chest to push him back. Rempe disappears inside, Nico struggling to follow after him. "Give him a sec, Jesus fuck," Igor mutters, giving Nico one final shove back.

He's angry, but he's not stupid so he doesn't retaliate, instead paces back in forth in the area between Igor and the dismantled security rope. Finally, Igor lifts a finger up to his ear piece, eyes squinting as he listens. Then he's nodding to the doorway and Nico pushes around him into the humid and packed bar.

Jacob Trouba is sitting at a large booth in the upper level, the brown leather of the seat cracked and sticky when Nico slips in across from him. Mika and Bread eye Nico, standing guard by their boss but with a wave of Trouba's hand they disperse.

"When you asked to visit a bar on this side tonight, I didn't think you meant mine." The Rag jokes, a crooked smirk on his face. Elbows thudding on the table, Nico leans into closer to him.

"My men were attacked tonight," he spits "at your bar, on your side of the Hudson. And I want everyone who was taken back right now or you'll be cleaning up a big mess here tonight."

Red and blue party lights pulse around the bar, the crappy lighting obscuring some of Trouba's features. But it does nothing to hide the way his eyebrows pinch in confusion.

"My men have been here all night Hischier," Trouba says earnestly, and Nico feels his heart sink to his stomach, the anxious knots in his belly squeezing it tighter and tighter.

He hadn't even let himself think it might be possible that the Rags don't have you. There was no reason to entertain the idea because the universe wouldn't do that to him. There's no way you're that far from him, that lost. It can't be true because if it is, this just got a lot more complicated.

Trouba is looking at him curiously, head tilted to the side like he's examining him. Nico ignores the inquisitive eyes, pulls his phone out of his leather jacket and texts Timo.

Start pulling up camera feeds around our hot spots, familiar faces but not NY ones

"Who is she?"

This isn't what he's here for. Not to tell Trouba about you, to reveal to his biggest rivals that he's got a vulnerable spot for them to exploit. But when he meets Trouba's gaze, it doesn't matter. He's already given it away.

"Important to me."

Trouba smacks the table so hard his scotch rattles, a deep laugh bellowing out of him. "Aren't they all? Or have you just gone soft?"

"No," he spits out, jaw clenching and unclenching "which is why I need you to start talking or I'm outta here and my boys are coming in."

Amusement twinkling in his eyes, Trouba sips his drink. "This is clearly new for you Hischier, so I'm gonna help you out. Lee and Barzal spotted Farabee and Couturier around the Upper West Side earlier today,

"My guess is that they've got your girl."

His ears ring, like someone just shot a gun right by his eardrum. It echoes in his head, beats against his temple. This is the worst thing he could've been told, absolute worst case scenario. That would mean you're not tucked away somewhere in this bar or just down the street, but that you're halfway to fucking Philadelphia with the biggest jackasses Nico's ever encountered.

"You're lying." He denies, standing up from the booth and crowding over Trouba. "Giroux doesn't know about her."

The Rag leader scoffs, mockingly pouting at Nico. "You have lost it, Hischier. What is that girl doing to you that you're not using your fucking brain anymore?"

"Don't fucking talk about her!" He's seething, pinning Trouba into the back of the booth by his shoulders until the man is wincing.

"Alright alright, calm down! I'll tell you what I know if you just fucking sit down!"

He has to pry his hands off Trouba, chest heaving as he slumps back into the booth and glares at the man across from him. Luckily, Trouba is just as fed up with this little meeting as he is and he starts explaining right away.

"You've been different the past like year," he starts "we saw less and less of you, more of the boys. And yet your operations were going smoother than ever, deals were coming in easy, it all worked.

"And then you were back for about a month, and worse than ever I'll tell you that. Fucking everywhere I looked, you and Devs were there, you were ruthless and angry.

"And then it all went away again."

Nico doesn't get what he's saying, the point of it all. None of it has anything to do with you other than the fact that he met you almost a year ago.

Sighing, Trouba rakes a hand through his hair. "Look, it's obvious that you were with someone. Less hands-on time with the job for more hands-on time with her. It's what happens when we finally decide to try and have it all, because you can't. It's the business or the girl, you can't protect both."

Nico huffs. "Maybe you can't but we're-"

"Different, yeah I know." Trouba interrupts, lips smiling knowingly. "My girl and I were different too. Until we weren't. Because she made it better, all of it. The Rags run so well today because of her. And you can't hide what having that partner does for you and the business.

"That's how Giroux knew. He's been there too."

Sinking further into the seat, Nico lets it fully hit him. Trouba is right. That long streak of deals and success were because he had you, because he was happy with you and was trying to make it all work. He couldn't separate you from his work and it showed, even when he did everything to hide you.

You're the soft spot of the Devs.

Even tonight. He missed the Flyers roaming around the city because he was too busy letting all his patrollers follow you. He was so paranoid about a night out in the city that he put all his resources into protecting you, and instead it just revealed his greatest weakness. He doesn't know how to do this with you.

"I gave her up," Nico mutters, "I brought too many men over and it showed them that it was her."

For what it's worth, Trouba does look sorry when Nico meets his gaze. Nico imagines he's reliving it, how terrifying it was for him to fall in love too.

"Yeah," Trouba says softly, throwing back the rest of his drink. He drops the glass back onto the table. "They're our best and our worst, our strength and our weakness.

"And they always will be, so you gotta let her in Hischier. Once she's yours, even for a second, that's it. Every squad in the area will know, so you better make sure she's ready for it."

That's the thing. Nico isn't sure you're ready for it. God knows he hasn't done jack shit to make sure you are, not like this.

He feels like he's moving on autopilot when he gets up, throwing a half-assed thanks to Trouba and stumbling out of the bar. He recognizes Igor as he leaves, but the faces and bodies are blurry, just obstacles between you and him right now.

Nico doesn't know what he's doing, how he's going to fix this. All he knows is that the longer it takes him to think, to act, the further you get from him. And the more danger you're put in.

Timo is waiting outside the Range Rover when Nico rounds the block, practically running towards the gathered group of vehicles. Jack and Haula are hanging out of Erik's truck, ready to move at a moments notice. Jesper's SUV hums, him and Jonas leaning against the light up headlights. He can see the silhouette of their guns in hand. Mercer is with them too, and for the first time in his life he doesn't have that goofy grin on his face.

He looks like he might throw up. In fact, almost all of them do.

Nico imagines he must look the same.

"We gotta go," he rushes out when he's in earshot. "Giroux has her, we gotta get to her before he gets her into Fargo."

Like a gun at a starting line, the boys shoot into action. They're clambering back into the vehicles, engines roaring to life. Nico climbs into the passenger seat, flicks on the radar gun and map for Timo who's already pulled away from the curb.

Grabbing the radio off the dash, Timo brings it up to his lips. "They've got an hour on us boys," he informs the following vehicles, "let make it up."

Static beeps of confirmation come in, a shaken but determined "copy that." from Jack. Timo steps on the gas harder, and Nico tries to piece together a plan in his head. No matter how fast Timo drives, they won't catch her before the Flyers make it back to Broad street.

Yanking out his phone, Nico brings up the contact of the one man that he knows can help. Rumor has it that the Flyers were causing trouble in Pennsylvania lately, and the Pengs pushed in on the boundaries to keep them from heading West.

Praying it's true, he hits dial and brings the phone up to his ear. It rings, and rings, and rings, and then it clicks.

"Sid, I need a favor."

~~~~

The air smells of garbage and popcorn, so thick it cuts through the fabric of the hood over your head. It's an odd and disgusting combination, and it makes your heart thump even quicker in your chest. You have no idea what place could be responsible for such a smell, no idea at all of where you could possibly be.

All you know is that you were in car for a long time, long enough that you're almost certain you're not in New York or Jersey. Time is hard to tell when your head is in a bag though.

And that's even worse. The more confused and discombobulated you become, the harder it'll be to survive.

A loud, metal clanking sounds behind you, like rusty gears of an industrial door closing. Sure enough you here it bang shut, and immediately the air grows thick and hot without the fall breeze blowing in.

"Move it!"

You flinch at the demand, flailing forward when two hands roughly shove you. Blindly, you stumble forward until the men take ahold of your arms, pining them behind your back and marching you forward.

Panicking and unsure of what to do, you think of every self-defense tip you've ever seen online, on posters around school, from friends.

"Hello!" You shout, and relax all your weight into the ground. "Help! I don't know these men! I need help!"

Your knees scrape the ground, feet dragging and shoulders stretching painfully as the men struggle to hold your weight up. Someone kicks at your foot, screams for you to shut up but you keep yelling.

"I'm in danger and I need help!"

The words echo, bouncing off the walls of wherever you may be and you feel your throat close up in panic. It's silent, there's no one here to hear you.

"I said shut the fuck up!" The hood is yanked off your head. You blink, shake your head and frantically look around for any sign of help. It doesn't matter.

Your surrounded by cement walls, long tunnels of a dark and empty warehouse. Pallets and boxes line the walls, industrial freezers and coolers tucked into the sturdy walls.

"No," you mutter, tears blurring your vision. "No. no. no-"

A hand clamps over your mouth, squeezing your jaw tightly. You still can't see who it belongs to, but their grip is so rough it makes the tears in your eyes bubble down you cheeks.

"Walk!"

Helpless, the men drag you down the long hall, away from whatever door led to the outside world. Rounding a corner into a smaller opening, you wiggle and try to kick free when you see the enclosed cage against the backwall. It's surrounded by boxes and trash, abandoned warehouse equipment tipped over against the chain link. But the door in the front is wide open, taunting as you get pushed closer and closer.

Now within reach of the cage, you quickly spring to your feet and press your toes into the bars of the door. Trying to fight back, you push back into the men, locking your knees and bracing yourself against the opening.

"For fuck's sake," one of them cusses behind you, pushing your wrist up towards your shoulders. You cry out, the sound muffled by the hand over your lips and crumple to the ground in pain. In a last ditch effort you yank your head back, the hand sliding down to your chin and you clamp your teeth down on the man's palm, biting until you taste blood.

"Oh you bitch," he screams, pulling his hand from your mouth and stepping away. The sudden action makes them both release you, and you spit the coppery-blood taste from your mouth. Spinning around in hopes to get up and run, your stopped when stars suddenly flash in you vision, everything going dark for a split second as pain shoots across the right side of your face.

The hit knocks you onto your side, startles you so much that your being picked up and thrown onto all fours into the cage so quickly you'd think you were on fire or something. Which you might be because heat springs up in your left wrist, burns and sizzles up your arm and you instinctively move to get the weight off of it.

Not that it matters, because a new slice of pain bites at your thigh, far worse than the sting on your cheek and in your arm. You cry out, jumping up and backwards onto you behind. The closed door of the cage digs into your back, the footsteps of the men fading as they leave you there.

You don't even get a chance to turn and see what they look like. Because a large shard of glass has stabbed into your left thigh, the jagged end sticking out of your ripped jeans. Blood soaks into fabric, wet and sticky against your skin. Fingers shaking and numb, you touch the large piece of glass and hiss when it knicks your fingertip. You're not sure what's worse, the blood or the fact that you have no idea what to do.

Or any idea where you are.

~~~~

Music plays throughout the office, the bluetooth speaker in the corner swapping colors with the beat of the song. Johnny's not sure what song this is, but the artist is definitely British and can definitely play a fucking guitar well.

He bops his head along with it, gnawing at his bottom lip as he looks through expense books. Tanger is pretty good at keeping them up to date, but with the group not fully in Pittsburgh right now, Sid thought it would be best to have a second set of eyes look over them.

Taking a swig of his Red Bull, Johnny blinks to refocus on the ledger when the music cuts out abruptly. His phone vibrates on the desk and the speaker announces "Incoming call from Sid."

It's really late for Sid to be calling, especially when he knows Johnny is here at work so the boy swipes up his phone and accepts the call.

"Marino," he answers, leaning back in the desk chair and nibbling on his thumb nail.

"It's Sidney," his boss answers and Johnny rolls his eyes because obviously he knows that. Sid is still old school though and forgets the world can see his contact just fine.

"What's going on boss?"

"Got a quick job for you," Sid replies, the sound of an engine turning over in the background. "I got your gear in the car and I'm coming to get you so be ready."

Johnny gets up, holds the phone between his ear and shoulder as he begins to clean up. "What's the job?"

"I'll explain more on the way, but it looks like the Flyers found their way up to New York and started some trouble."

"With the Rags?"

"Nah the Devs," Sid corrects, sounding amused. "Hischier's got himself a girl that likes to go out in New York apparently. Claude jumped at the first chance to get her."

Locking the books away in the safe and shutting off the speaker, Johnny flicks the lights down and grabs his keys. "A girl? With Hischier?"

He locks the office door, making his way down the old creaky steps.

"He may be untouchable as a boss but at the end of the day he's still just a man. And the right girl will turn any man stupid."

Johnny shakes his head, praying to god that's not him one day. This must be some girl though, if she's got Nico dragging the Devs all the way to Broad Street. Wonder what's so great about her.

~~~~

Digging your teeth into the back of your hand, you yank the shard of glass out of your leg and bite down. Electric shocks of pain zip down your thigh, your toes feeling numb as you curl into yourself and cry.

Hot tears roll down your cheek, the saltiness making the right side of your face ache and you guess that whoever had hit you earlier had broken skin.

Grabbing the jacket you peeled off earlier, you press the fabric into the wound and wrap the sleeves around your thigh, tying it off as tightly as you can. The knots digs into the tender flesh, sends another wave of tears down your cheeks and you sniffle, wiping your blood stained hands off on your shirt before wiping at your cheeks.

Gentle and curious, you prod at the right side of your face. It's sore and swollen, and sure enough you can feel a freshly opened wound right on your cheekbone. Your fingers shake as you push up the sleeve of your shirt, stretching the fabric up to pat at the wound. Little flakes of dried blood stick to the sleeve, and you sigh in relief, at least a little bit of it. It's not bleeding too much so that's something.

Still propped up against the door, you finally take a look around the area. Two rows of metal shelves rise to the top of the cage on either side of you, bottles of every kind of liquor in the world stacked on them. Which would explain the broken glass on the floor.

Sure enough when you look down by your feet the orange lid of a Tito's bottle lay there, surrounded by shards of the glass. With your good foot you push the glass away as best as you can, careful to not cut yourself anymore.

When your fairly sure it's safe, you press your weight into your good foot and wrist, climbing up from the floor. You have to hold onto the cage to keep yourself up, your injured leg trembling in protest when you begin to put weight on it.

Ignoring the painful throbbing, you slowly look around the area. More freezer doors line the walls, the giant silver handles stamped with signs that say "Cooler 1" and so on. You shiver, not even wanting to imagine what these men store in there, if it's something that actually belongs in a freezer or not.

Nausea stirs your stomach, mouth watering as the taste of bile builds up in your throat and you squeeze your thumbs in your fists, wincing when your wrist painfully aches.

The pain is a good distraction from the nausea though, and it gives you time to choke in and out deep breathes. Looking around the area, you take in more details of the place.

Championships signs on the walls, old broken hockey sticks scattered in pieces around the room, an abandoned Zamboni in the opposite corner.

It's an arena.

And you were correct about it not being in Jersey or New York. Because a large crate by the Zamboni is stamped with a location in big, black letters.

3601 S BROAD ST, PHILADELPHIA, PA

You've never been to Pennsylvania, don't even know how far from Jersey it is. Which is stupid because you know geography and should be able to recall how close the states are to each other but you can't get the photo memory of the map to focus in your brain.

All that keeps flashing in your head is that you're in another state, bleeding and hurt, surrounded by freezers large enough to hide a body (or 12).

Nico's not coming, you realize. Why would he? How could he? He has no idea where you are. Maybe he'll sniff around New York but for how long? How long until he gives up on it, on you?

It's not like you’re a Devil, not anyone big like Timo or Jonas. You're not in the family, so why would it matter if you disappeared from it?

Bone crippling fears claws up your throat, chokes you and you slump back onto the concrete ground. Gasping, you rapidly blink against your blurring vision and try to focus.

You need to find a way out of here.

~~~~

The interstate passes by far too slow for Nico's liking. He feels like he could get out and run faster, and it makes him uneasy. That stupid gut-wrenching, heart pounding, nausea inducing uneasy, and he can't stop himself from peaking over at the dash.

102 MPH

Groaning, Nico throws his head back against the headrest, brings his hands up to his hair and painfully tugs at it before he explodes. It doesn't really help but the pain is a little distracting.

"I swear I'm going as fast as I can." Timo defends but that just pisses Nico off even more because he knows that, he knows this isn't Timo's fault but saying that just makes him realize even more that it's his fault.

"We're not gonna make it in time at this pace."

"In time for what?" Timo scoffs, "It took us too long to track her down, they've already got her inside Nico. There's no intercepting her."

His fault, his fault, his fucking fault. That's all Nico hears as Timo goes on and on about how the Flyers and how they finally managed to do some damage to a rival. The words bubble in his veins, his skin growing hot and bones jittery. He feels like he's choking, gagging on the guilt in his chest and he explodes.

"I know! I fucking know Timo! I fucked up, I let her go into the city tonight and I'm the fucking idiot that brought all our men with!"

The silence in the car seems to ring in his ears, so unbearable that he just keeps blabbering.

"I should've told her no, I should've been a fucking man and just dealt with the puppy dog eyes or the cold shoulder or whatever bratty treatment she would've given me because at least she'd still be here!

"Or I could've gotten her a better spot in the bar, made her stay in the back by an exit or next to the wall but no she wanted to be close and I couldn't disappoint her..."

Nico feels manic, like he's sliding down an icy hill and kicking his feet trying to stop but he can't. And he's just falling and rolling on the ice, the cold, hard surface smacking him in the face.

"And I brought every fucking available man with us, and I didn't even put them to good use! They should've been patrolling, watching the bar but I let everyone just hang out because she wanted to, she wanted everyone to have fun!

"Some fucking fun we're having now Jesus fuck!"

Chest heaving and throat burning, Nico runs his hands down his face and realizes his cheeks are wet. He's not sure if the few tears that trailed down his face are from sadness, anger, or fear but it doesn't matter. All that matters is that he royally fucked up again and has lost you worse than he had before.

"Are you done?"

Nico clears his throat, feeling pathetic as exhaustion settles in the little space left in his body for even more emotions. He nods, watches the yellow line on the highway fly by his windows.

"I know you probably don't want to hear this from me because I know you don't wanna hear it at all, but just listen for a sec, ok?"

Timo waits for him to nod before continuing.

"This is not your fault Nico," the words sound earnest but they hit hollow to Nico. Of course this is his fault. Who else's could it be?

"Yeah we should've been better prepared for an emergency like this, and I mean we, not just you. But this has never happened before. None of the other girls have ever been messed with, because they're not yours. And like it or not, that's what really matters. Is that she's yours Nico."

He hears what Timo is saying, tries to shove it into his brain so he'll understand. Mine, he says over and over in his head, she's mine. All it does it remind him that the blame is also his.

"You love her, you wanted to do something nice for her after the past few months she's had. And that was the right thing to do for her, but we weren't ready for this, for her. And accidents happen Nico, you can't beat yourself up over it like this."

Nico inhales, takes a moment to hear his best friend. Timo is right. You, the whole situation tonight, it's all different. He's never had to deal with something like this. Still, he was raised in a mob family, he knows what it means to bring a partner into this life.

"I should've been ready," he argues, but it feels weak. Defeated, he feels defeated. "It's my job to be ready Timo and I didn't do it, and who knows how she'll pay for it."

"You can't pick when to fall in love, man. Just like you can't pick who you fall in love with, and how it'll happen, and how it will go. So you can't really be all that ready for it either.

"The fucked up thing with our lifestyle is that tiny detail of unpredictability usually gets someone hurt."

Again, he knows deep down that Timo is right. His friend has become wise beyond his years in the time since they started the Devils. It's what's made him such a good #2, a good person to work with. That and the fact that Nico has never had to shy away from his feelings and thoughts with Timo. Not like he does with the others. With Timo, he doesn't always have to be strong.

"It' scary," Nico mumbles, "Every day of my life since I've met her I've been scared. Scared to lose her, to hurt her, to ruin her life, to have her in my life. But it's even worse to not have her in it."

Fingers find his shoulder, hold onto his hoodie tightly and squeeze reassuringly. Nico looks over across the center counsel and meets Timo's quick glance. Even in the small fraction of time before he refocused on the road, Nico could see the certainty in Timo's eyes.

"It's worth it though, isn't it?"

Nico nods, licks at his dry lips and chokes out a painful chuckle. "Yeah, it's worth it. Of course she's fucking worth it."

Timo laughs with him, puts both hands back on the steering wheel and checks the police radar scanner before pressing down a little harder on the gas. The engine roars in protests, hesitating for a moment before pushing forward.

"I can't lose her Timo. I don't think I could ever get over her."

"You won't have to Nico, we're gonna get her."

Nico checks the GPS on the screen. Halfway there.

~~~~

Sid parks the car two blocks away from Fargo. Him and Jarry open up the back hatch, Jarry immediately pulling out equipment for Johnny to take in with him.

"Simple task John," Sid starts, taking a firm hold of Johnny's shoulder with his left hand to make sure the boy is actually listening. He is, but Johnny has one of those faces that always looks clueless.

"My guess is Giroux has got her somewhere in the warehouse. He wouldn't want her near the offices or shop talk..." If she's new to Hischier, she's new to it all. No sense in letting her hear anything that could help her out. "You just gotta get in, find her, and report back to us on how she's doing. Hide somewhere and keep her company until Hischier or his boys get in there for her."

Jarry shoves a mic pack in Johnny's jean pocket, handing him the wireless cuff to put in his ear. He rolls the little bud in his fingers, waiting for the signal to test it.

"Under no circumstance do you engage with the Flyers, ya hear me?" Sid shakes him a bit, brown eyes serious and commanding. Johnny nods.

"Unless they're gonna kill you or her, you're just surveillance. Keep her alive long enough for the Devs."

"Yes sir," he confirms, and Sid ruffles his hair, grins proudly.

"Atta boy, now test out that mic for us."

Johnny puts the earpiece in, hears the static burst of it connecting to Jarry's equipment. He tests it out, listens to his own voice echo back to him through Jarry's speaker. Once they're certain it works, he grabs brass knuckles and a knife, tucks them into his pockets.

"Ready?" Sid asks, and Johnny quickly agrees. "Report back to us how you find her, I gotta let Hischier know how to get to her the quickest."

"Yeah, no problem Sid." He confirms, the toe of his boot crunching as he turns to start walking towards Fargo. He only makes it a couple feet before stopping and turning back around.

"She means that much to him?"

It's unspoken who him is. They all know Hischier is the topic of the night. More specifically his sudden loyalty to this girl, sudden interest in a relationship.

Sid shares a look with Jarry, one Johnny can't really read from where he's at but he feels the weight of the words just as heavily.

"She's everything to him Marino."

~~~~

Your fingers ache, wrist throbbing painfully as you maneuver try to jam the sliver of metal further into the padlock. You’re not even sure where the thing came from but after scrounging around on the shelves you found it and figured might as well try.

It’s difficult to hold the padlock, your wrists having to twist it at an odd angle to reach the key hole on the bottom. You don’t even know how to pick a lock but something’s gotta give right?

Cursing when the lock doesn’t budge, you violently jiggle it and hope that something gets knocked loose or falls into place. You yank on it, metal clattering loudly in the abandoned warehouse before dropping it. Petulant and annoyed, you tenderly rub your rapidly swelling and bruised wrist, glaring at the lock.

The shuffle of a shoes scraping on the dirty floor of the warehouse makes you freeze, body stiffening and sense going on high-alert. You look around the large room, a cold chill trickling down your spine as you wait for any sign of the men from before.

But no one comes through the open door, not even a mouse. Yet you can hear movement from somewhere, little scuffles like they’re sneaking around.

“That things too dull to pick the lock.”

You whip around, gasping in surprise at the head of curly hair and brown eyes peeking out from behind stacks of crates and boxes.

“W-what?” You stumble, unsure of what to even say. You don’t know who this boy is or how long he’s been here. Is he with them? Or did they take him too?

“You can’t pick the lock with that,” he says again, pointing to the hunk of metal you had previously been holding. “It needs to be thinner at the top.”

You look down at it, kick it away with your shoe and take a deep breath to try and calm your racing heart.

“Oh,” you mumble, dumbly. “Ok. Who are you?”

The boy looks around the room, checking for anyone else. When he’s sure it’s just you, he rises to his feet and perches on top of one.

“John,” he introduces. “Marino. M’here to make sure you’re ok and not like gonna die or anything.”

And well that tells you nothing. Not about who he is, who sent him, why he’s in charge of checking up on you. For all you know the men that took you sent him here to make sure you don’t bleed out.

However, he did seem to be sneaking around. Like he shouldn’t be here. Or he could just want you to think that, think that he’s actually helping you so you let your guard down.

John looks confused when you don’t say anything. He taps at his ear, purses his lips together and starts gently swinging his foot.

“Nico sent me,” he adds and just the name of your boyfriend has you trembling. Instinctively you stumble forward, pushing yourself to the far end of the cage. It’s pathetic, the way you half drag your injured leg behind you and crash into the chain link.

“Nico sent you? You know Nico?” You beg, desperate to know anything at all. Desperate to see him, to know that you’ll see him again.

Your fingers cling onto the fence, squeezing painfully and your wrist throbs so hard you think you’d be able to see it beating if you looked down. But you can’t look away from John, not until you know for sure that he knows Nico.

“Yeah I do,” he confirms, skeptically.

Frowning, you pull back just the slightest bit. “If you really know him,” you murmur “then tell me something about him?”

John bawks, looks you up and down like you’re crazy before his eyes narrow challengingly. He hums, taps at his chin like he’s thinking really hard.

“I think you’re lying Johnny boy.” You taunt, narrowing your own eyes at him.

“Fine,” he grunts “I know that Nico has a tattoo of a triangle on his ankle that he never shows anyone and no one knows what it means.”

You’re shocked by his answer, leaning back and loosening your hold on the fence. Nico does have a tattoo like that on his ankle and no one who’s just passed him in the street or heard of his reputation would know that. It’s always hidden by his clothes, a secret mark of his and he’s yet to tell you its importance. Even Timo told you he doesn’t know.

John takes your silence as victory, smirking proudly and tauntingly pointing at you. “Did you know about the tattoo sweetheart?”

“Of course I did,” you scoff “I know every little mark on that man’s body, thank you very much.”

Facing scrunching in disgust, he groans quietly, leaning back on the crate as if he’s trying to physically get away from you. “Ok didn’t need to know that.”

“Sorry,” you say quietly, and then the room is silent again. Nervous, unsure of what’s happening or what you’re supposed to do you gnaw at your bottom lip.

“It’s ok,” he says gently when you don’t continue. For the second time that night John looks you up and down, slower this time as he takes in the details of your face and clothes, eyes lingering on your wrist that’s now turned a dark shade of purple.

“Are you hurt?” He asks, “like really hurt?”

Teeth sinking painfully into your lip to keep it from wobbling, you inhale shakily and nod. Up until now it felt like you couldn’t admit how much your body hurt, how every muscle feels sore and bruised. Your leg feels useless and cold, and just the air on your wrist makes you want to curl into a ball to shield it.

“My leg is bleeding,” you choke out, hands shaking as you let go of the fence and reach for the jacket you’d tied around it. “A lot, I don’t know what to do about it.”

John is silent as you untie the knot with trembling fingers, unwrapping the jacket and revealing the rip in your jeans, the dark red and still gushing blood slit only your thigh.

“Oh my god,” he mutters, jumping up from his seat like he’s just been electrocuted. “Ok, quick wrap that back on there.” He instructs you and you immediately do as you're told, tears slipping down your cheeks as you try not to cry out in pain. It hurts even more the second time around.

John holds his finger up to his ear. “Sid we gotta get a sewing kit or something in here, she’s gonna bleed out on the concrete.”

Your head snaps up to look at him. "Who's Sid?"

"My boss," he responds, looking away as he listens to whoever is in his ear. Sid, you guess. "Hold up, yeah that'll work. Get it to the Southwest vent, last one on the right. I marked it with my knife."

Now addressing you, John crowds up close to the cage, his own fingers gripping the chain link. "I'll be right back ok, just sit down or something and don't move, capisce?"

Alarm bells go off in your head, your hands reaching out and locking over his in panic. "N-no don't leave, please don't leave Johnny."

"Hey, hey, hey..." he murmurs, ducking his head down to be eye-level with you. His gaze is reassuring, strong and certain in a way you've only ever seen from Nico. It makes you stop, heart jumping into your throat. God you wish Nico was here. "It's gonna be ok, I just need a moment to run and get something to fix that leg of yours, ok?"

He waits for a signal that you're hearing him before continuing. "I'm gonna be right back, I promise. You'll be ok, you're tough, I can tell. No girl of Nico's wouldn't be, huh?"

"Yeah," you mumble, the words sounding muffled in your ears.

"Ok good," John nods, rising up to his full height. "When I come back you're gonna sit your cute butt right there and tell me all about it, ok? I gotta hear how Hischier hooked you."

Nervously, you laugh and agree but you're not really sure what you're laughing at. You just know he was smiling at you like he made a joke and that was all you could do.

Watching John disappear in the back corner, you slump back to the ground and squeeze your eyes shut, counting your breaths until he gets back.

~~~~

The phone line rings, trilling through the speaker. Giroux sits with his feet propped up on the desk by it, dirty black boots lulling back and forth with each ring.

He answers moments later.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"Now, that's not a very nice way to answer the phone." Giroux tsks, lips curling in amusement when Farabee shakes his head across the room. "Is this how you always handle business?"

"I have no business with you Claude," Nico snarks back, the static of the phone giving him more of a growl than he usually has.

"Hmm then what would you call the pretty little bird I've got here?"

"Off-limits," he spits, "touch one hair on her head and you'll be fucking sorry."

Giroux laughs, a loud obnoxious belly laugh that has Couturier and Farabee snickering alongside him. "Oh I don't think I will Hischier," he sighs happily. "But I can offer you her back, in mostly good condition, just as long as you hand over the contract for the deal with Met."

The line goes silent for a moment, so quiet that Giroux sits up and drops his boots back to the floor just to make sure the call is in fact still going.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Nico finally responds, and his tone sounds like it's dropped a few octaves, heavy with rage.

"You heard me, hand over the deal?"

A sarcastic laugh barks through the phone, harsh and unforgiving. "You even dumber than I thought you were," he goads, "there's no fucking contract you idiot. Unlike your gang of fuck ups, I actually know how to do business."

The two men are watching Giroux, confusion etched all over their faces. His face flushes with embarrassment and anger, hating being talked to like this in front of his men.

"Watch your tone Hischier or that girl of yours will hear for it."

"Like I said, touch her and I'll make you regret it," Nico spits, the venom of his words practically dripping through the phone and all over the desk. It makes Giroux rise, his stomach twisting uncomfortably.

"Let me tell you about how we do things in Jersey, Claude. We're respectable gentlemen, we hold open doors and we help carry grocery bags, and we shake hands with our acquaintances. Acquaintances that we do business with, and that personal touch is a helluva lot stronger than a fucking piece of paper."

Dread creeps down Giroux's spine. There was never a deal, not one that can be breached. Nico and the Devils had a Jersey contract with MetLife, and even if they stole deal right out from under the Flyers, local gang sealings always win out over paper contracts.

Giroux has just never bothered to have one, never needed one. The Philly deals have always been minor. But he knows the unwritten law of the gangs, knows what not to breach. His mistake was believing Hischier had done this on the books.

"On the other hand," Nico continues, cutting off his spiral. "we protect what's ours. And you've taken something of mine that was not up for grabs, you've taken one of ours. I don't know how you run shit down there, Claude, but up here in Jersey, we don't play games with the women that feed us, clean up our wounds, keep the family together ya know?

"That's just bad manners. And we answer bad manners, with bad manners of our own. Things like showing up uninvited, or I don't know even burning all of Broad Street to the fucking ground. And don't think I'm joking Claude, there's a reason we're called the Devils, after all.

"We're not afraid to fight with fire. And we will raise hell."

Claude smacks his hand over the phone, hitting mute before looking up at his men. "Find somewhere to move her, now!" He demands frantically waving them around the room. "Hischier can't find her here, we need another safe house or drop her on the fucking street, I don't care. And call in back up!”

Farabee and Couturier spring into action, moving around the room like headless chickens. Nico barks his name through the phone and Giroux unmutes it, clearing his throat and putting forward his best amused voice.

“You do that Hischier,” he encourages, “Drop out of the deal or the only place you’ll see your girl again is in hell.”

~~~~

You’re still counting your breaths when his boots scuffle on the floor again, eyes snapping open to find him crouched by the cage. John is holding a little black box in his hand, fingers trembling slightly as he grips onto the fence.

"You still with me?"

"Yeah," you nod, swallowing thickly and sitting up straighter. "What do I do?"

John motions to the shelf behind your back. "First, I need ya to get that bottle of Everclear."

Doing as told, you force yourself to collect the bottle of alcohol for him, sitting back in your original spot with your wounded leg straightened out in front of you.

He keeps going through instructions, almost methodically as he tells you to take a quick swig of the drink, for nerves of course. Choking back the drink, you untie the jacket from your leg once again and lay it off to the side, looking at the boy next to you expectantly.

"Now here's the hard part," he winces, "you gotta sterilize the wound as much as possible."

"What?"

Sighing, he jabs a finger at the bottle of Everclear. "Pour it on there, as much as you can for as long as you can. And try not to be too loud, last thing we need is Flyers coming down here."

Hesitantly, you bring the bottle up and over your leg. Your free hand grips onto the collar of your shirt and you lift it to your lips, biting into the thin fabric. Squeezing your eyes shut, you tip the bottle and let the alcohol pour down onto the wound.

The pain is unbearable. You want to scream, cry, kick your legs like a toddle in a rampage. But it's paralyzing, has you stiff as a board as you cry into your shirt and twitch uncomfortably.

You don't know how long you keep pouring, but it feels like minutes to you, though it can't be. Not judging by the amount of liquid still in the bottle. Even so John looks pleased when you pry your collar out of your mouth, swallowing down another harsh gulp of the drink before discarding the bottle to the side.

Messily, you wipe at your cheeks, sniffling as you blink up at him.

"What now?"

The box in his hand is a sewing kit. Meant for clothes or bags, but he insists it'll do the job, at least for now. John cleans the needle for you, pulling out a small pink lighter from his pocket and holding the needle in the flame. Then he's threading it for you, softly muttering instructions as he shows you. You're glad he doesn't make you thread it because you can't really feel your fingers anymore. Just buzzing, numb fingertips.

Too soon, he's slipping the threaded needle through the cage to you, telling you how to hold it and keep the thread untangled. He doesn't have to tell you what i's for, you already know.

So you steel yourself again, biting into your cheek as you follow his commands of pinching the wound shut with one hand, methodically pushing the needle through the flesh until you've got a fairly good looking stitch.

"Atta girl," he compliments, grinning proudly and it makes your chest flutter with relief. At least something is going well tonight. "Bellissimo."

You chuckle wetly, beginning the next one. "Non male, eh?"

John's grin grows at your words, eyes twinkling. "Tu parli Italiano?"

"Sì lo faccio," you answer, wincing at the pinch of the needle. "My family is Italian. Mamma and papa left Italy to get married, here in Jersey."

You're not sure why you're telling him all of this, but having something to talk about it making it easier to sew up the wound so you keep going.

"They were running from the mafia," you snort, humorlessly. "Little did they know, huh?"

John shuffles, drops down onto his bottom so he's sitting facing you, back leaning against the crates. "I left Italy for school," he says quietly, "my Papa stayed back to pay for it. Went through some mafioso friend to pay for it for me. Four years at Harvard, he's sill paying for it."

You tilt your head in confusion. "Still?"

He clears his throat, nodding solemnly. When he speaks, it's in Italian again. "They killed him, when he couldn't pay it back in time. I was two months away from graduation."

Pausing, you sit up and look at him. He looks younger than he did before, hunched in on himself, brown eyes heavy and sad. "I'm sorry John." you reply, addressing him in Italian too. "I can't imagine."

"Johnny," he corrects, "call me Johnny. And it's not all that bad. I got to stay here, with Sid and the Pengs. S'nice. M'sure you get it, feeling at home with the Devs, yeah?"

You scoff, rolling your eyes and slowly going back to stitching yourself up. "They don't speak Italian," you say, "For awhile I think it was just Swiss guys and Bratter. But Nico's got a big heart, he ended up letting anyone in."

Johnny laughs. "You joined a mob that's not Italian? How'd that happen?"

"I didn't join," you correct, "I fell in love."

The two of you continue on like that, speaking softly in Italian like it hasn't been months since you've used the language. Johnny seems to enjoy it too, giving you tips and pointers on your stitches.

And you tell him everything, the story of the past year of your life with Nico and the Devils. How you met Nico just before the start of your senior year of university, at his bar that you basically made your own. And for months you were with him all the time, spent every free second with him, even if meant he was just watching you study, patiently waiting until you gave him the sign that he could slip you out of your clothes and into his bed.

You're friends learned about him, warned you about what the streets said. But you ignored it because he felt so right, and the more you were with him, the more wrong you're friends became. Around Spring you become his unofficial girlfriend, his girl to the group and to your friends, but hidden from everyone else.

Two weeks before graduation you asked him about the group, for real this time. And he told you everything, what he did, how he got into it, how they got their reputation. Exactly what kind of lifestyle it was.

Not the greatest, but for him worth it. So worth it that when you went to your parents with the information that your boyfriend, your mafioso boyfriend would be attending graduation, they gave you the ultimatum. They didn't flee organized crime just for you to bring it back into the family here.

You showed up for graduation unsure, confused, and lost. But Nico had shown up, and with him came Timo and Jack and Dawson, all somehow in the front row being rowdy and annoying.

It was a no brainer. You'd pick him in any lifetime. Because you know he wouldn't make you choose, he'd find a way for you to have everything. After the ceremony was the last time you spoke to them.

Four days later you told Nico you were all in, that you'd given up your parents and brother, your life to be a part of this life.

And the worst happened. He said no. Even when you begged and cried, told him that you love him more than anything else, he still said no. You're not dumb, you knew what he was doing. You loved him enough to lose everything, and that terrified him.

For a month, you lived without him. Miserable, family-less, and doing everything to just move on. It came in the form of going out every night with your friends, to forget him, to let loose before your adult lives started for real.

That month must have been hell for him too, because he came running back not too long later. Telling you he was sorry, that he had been scared and unsure, that you caught him off guard. He hadn't been ready before, but he was now.

You knew better than to let that feeling of love go, so you went against the advice of your friends. You followed him to Jersey, set roots in the Devils that had been growing ever since.

Talking to Johnny is nice. It feels like having an old friend back, not one Nico has assigned to you or ordered to listen to you, but someone genuinely curious. You haven't felt like that since early summer, when you were still with your college crowd.

"Wow," Johnny whistles when you've finished. "I never would've thought that that is what Hischier had up his sleeve this past year."

"Yeah," you laugh, listening closely as he tells you how to tie off the thread of your stitches. They're a little wonky and sloppy, but they do the job just fine. At least that what he tells you before instructing you to cover them with your jacket again.

"So when did you officially join?" He continues, and you chuckle.

"I haven't," you reply, "I don't have a pendant yet. Up until tonight, I didn't even think anyone actually saw me as Nico's girlfriend except him an-"

"Wait," he interrupts, shaking his head. "Giroux and the Flyers came after you without a Devs mark?"

Assuming that's who you've been taken by, you silently nod. He fishes out a pocket knife, slips it to you so you can cut the thread off. You hand him the needle back, trying to slip the knife back through when he grunts.

"Nah you keep it," he says, "you can use it to carve up some Flyers when we get you outta here."

~~~~

Timo has barely slammed on the brakes when Nico is throwing the door open, jumping out of the vehicle and stalking towards Sid and Jarry.

"What's happening?" He demands, shoving his gun back into his waistband. Behind him, the other vehicles come to a stop, all the boys slipping out in similar fashions.

Sid waves him over, an iPad in hand that he holds out to Nico. It's a simple map of Fargo, specifically the ground level. A thin red line trails through it, carving out a path.

"Earpiece my guy has got in has a tracker," he informs Nico, nodding to Jarry's equipment. The broody brunette is hunched over a radio system, large headphones over his ear. "He's in there with her now, this is the route he took."

Nico's head snaps up, glancing over at Jarry. "He's in there now? And she's with him, you're sure?"

"Yeah," Sid laughs, "he's been in there for a little over an hour. No sign of them coming down to fuck with her since he got there, but he mentioned medical aid."

Jittery, Nico takes in the map, commits it to memory. Then he's handing it off to Timo. "Memorize it," he instructs gruffly, "all of you. We get in, get to her, and take the same way out. Jack and Mercer, you keep two vehicles out here running. We get out with her, get her in one and drive, no matter what. Seperate, don't let anyone see what car she is in. You don't meet up again until you're sure you're not being followed,

"The rest of you will kill as many fucking Flyers as you see in there. And on the way out, burn it."

Sid is giggling when Nico finishes explaining the plan to his men, and he looks over at him through a burning glare. "What's so funny, Crosby?"

He holds both hands up, shaking his head in amusement. "Nothing. I’ll instruct the boys on where to take her. Got a safe house not too far away.”

“Thanks,” Nico nods to Jarry. "What's he doing?"

Sid looks over, raises an eyebrow. "He's in Marino's ear, taking reports on what's happening inside. Been listening to him chat with Miss Devil for a bit now."

"He's listening to her?"

"Oh yeah," Sid nods, "not that he really got anything. They've been talking in Italian I guess. Jarry's strictly English over there and well I just know a little Russ-"

"Can he talk to her?" Nico interrupts, impatient and tired of this conversation. "Can she hear him?"

"Well Marino can," Sid confirms, "he can't take the comm out because it'll disconnect but he can relay a message to her, for sure."

That's all Nico needs to hear. He's ripping the earphones off Jarry, the cord slipping unplugged and static erupts from the machine. But then he hears it, slightly muffled but definitely you. He'd know that voice anywhere, how sweet it sounds, even when it's speaking a language he barely knows.

"The mic," he demands, and Jarry is handing him the tiny mouthpiece, bristling when Nico yanks it out of his hand and shoulders him away.

"Marino," he calls into it, "it's Hischier, do you copy?"

The speakers go silent for just a moment before his voice flows through, louder and clearer then yours. "Marino here, I copy."

Nico breathes out a sigh of relief, shoulders slumping inwards. "I-just wait with her a bit longer, ok? My men and I are coming in, tell her to hang on for me, ok?"

He knows he sounds pathetic, weak and desperate but he doesn't care. Not right now, not with her so close but so far.

"You got it," Marino confirms, continuing his words in Italian and Nico knows he's sending the message along. He's not sure entirely what he's telling her but he recognizes the words good and lucky.

Nico barely gets to here your far away voice say his name before shouts are cutting you off, scuffling and you screaming breaking through the line.

And then it goes dead.

~~~~

"Looks like it's our lucky day," Johnny grins at you, removing his finger from his earpiece. "The good guys are here for ya."

Your hand clenches around the pocket knife you've been holding, heart thudding in your chest and you try to fight back the smile tugging at your lips, the relief fluttering in your veins.

His name is on the tip of your tongue, desperate to ask for him, to ask to hear him through the earpiece, just for one moment, just to know he's actually here.

All that comes out instead is a terrified screech, one that rips through your throat and chest painfully. Johnny is roughly hauled up into the air and around the side of the cage, tripping over his feet as a tall brunette towers over him. Though he's got quiete the build on Johnny, it's not him that's terrifying. No it's the barrel of the slick, black pistol pointed at Johnny's head.

"Well look what waddled in," the man hisses, effortlessly tossing Johnny to the ground next to him. You're frozen, mouth hanging open with horror as Johnny scrambles to his feet only to hold still when he comes face to face with the gun.

"Farabee," Johnny says lowly.

"Last I checked she was with the Devils, not the Penguins," Farabeee says, tilting his head in thought. "Walk, now."

Farabee shoves Johnny around the front of the cage until he's at the locked door. Then the brunette is glaring over at you, dark eyes so piercing and cold you stutter, mouth clamping shut.

"Over here sweetheart," he instructs and you hesitantly get up, wincing at the pull in your stitches. You don't stop until you're standing in front of the door, peering at Johnny with wide eyes through the chain link.

"I'm gonna unlock the door," Farabee explains, faux sweetness dripping off his tongue. "and you're gonna open it for your good friend Marino here. Then I'm gonna close it, and we'll see how much fun Giroux let's me have with you two, ok?"

Johnny's jaw clenches, nose flaring as he grunts out his agreement. Your throat is to dry, tongue too big in your mouth to say anything so you just nod, meekly.

"Good, now get on your knees!" Farabee barks, his voice echoing off the concrete walls and you sink down onto your tender leg, gnawing at the inside of your cheek.

"Oh you like that one, huh? No hesitation, sweetheart? No wonder Nico likes you." He taunts. Heat crawls up your neck and ears, burns at the apples of your cheeks. You keep your gaze lowered, focusing on the low top converse Farabee is wearing. No socks underneath either, the pale skin of his ankle sticking out.

Nico never wears those. Of course he's got Nikes that he loves, wears them everywhere, even with formal attire. But he always wears boots on a job, protective and steel-toed. Heavy too, you know from the time you tried them on and clunked around his apartment like a clown.

He's protecting weak spots, you realize, he can't get away if a deal goes bad if someone's injured his ankles or feet.

Ears ringing, you swallow harshly and let your fingers find the blade of the pocket knife in your hand. You hear key rattle, the lock above your head jingling, though it's muffled by your thoughts.

With a shaky left hand, you push open the door of the cage, looking up at Johnny through your eyelashes. Farabee shoves him into the cage and he stumbles into you, enough that when you lean to the right and leap forward, it looks like you're simply moving out of his way.

But your fingers have locked on the knife, pushing the blade out and you quickly swipe at the left foot of Farabee. With all your strength you drag the blade over the back of his ankle, the knife getting hot and slippery at the amount of blood that spurts out.

Farabee cries out, falls forward onto his knees. The gun in his hand clatters to the ground as he reaches for the wound behind him, and you drop the knife to reach for the pistol.

You don't know much about guns, but you know that the safety is off and all you really have to do is pull the trigger. Which is what you do, aiming for his chest, but the recoil makes you flinch back and the bullet sinks into his right armpit.

Falling back, the gun once again clatters to the ground. You're ears are still ringing, hands numb as you scramble back into the cage, kicking until you've collided with the shelf behind you.

He is laying in a heap on the ground, is legs squished under his body awkwardly. Even from here you can see the pool of blood around him. But you can't move, can't hear, can't see anything but the blood on him and on your hands. It feels like the gun is still in your hands, heavy and daunting.

You gasp, wheezing as you try to catch your breath, try to get your head to focus. Someone will definitely come down here after that, and you and Johnny can't be here.

Two hands cup your face, so cold on your flushed and sweating skin that it jolts you, makes you blink and look up to find Johnny looking down at you.

"Cara," he calls gently, in Italian “we gotta get up, we gotta go now."

Dumbly, you latch onto his arms, let him haul you up onto your feet. He leaves you standing there as he picks up the gun and knife from earlier, glancing at Farabee on the floor before rushing back to your side.

When he speaks to you again, it sounds like your underwater. "Take this, try to keep up."

He shoves the bloodied knife back in your hand before crouching down to slip your left arm over his shoulders. Then he's taking you by the waist, practically dragging you as you limp out the open door and past Farabee’s body. You can't bring yourself to look at him, to see if he's dead or not.

He's not moving, and that's enough for you.

You're choking down breathes, clinging to Johnny as he guides you back towards the old zamboni. The two of you have just rounded it to reveal a short hallway when your eyes seem to focus, a familiar figure busting though the door at the end.

"Y/n!"

It's instinct, the way you immediately leap from Johnny's hold at the sound of his voice. More figures have followed him through the door, but you don't spare them a glance, you can't look away from him.

Nico seems to pick up his pace when he realizes your limping, quickly closing the gap between you two. You fling yourself at him, arms locking around his neck as you push off your good leg.

The knife Johnny had given back to you presses into his shoulder, the blood staining his white shirt but you don't care. You just squeeze your eyes shut, let the others shove around you two as you try to keep sucking in air.

You’re panicking, dry heaving, shuttering sobs that get caught in your chest and throat. Nico strokes over the back of your head protectively, his arms and body so strong and safe.

Gunfire sounds behind you, some shouting and you pull back from Nico, grabbing onto the hem of his shirt as you look back down the hallway. Johnny and Timo are there, leaning around the corner to fire shots. And pressed against the side of the zamboni are Haula and Jesper, their own weapons out and ready to go.

"Let's go baby," Nico urges you, hands on your waist as he guides you back down the hall. After a few limping steps, Nico stops, turning and swiftly picking you up.

Your hands stay locked in the fabric of his shirt, terrified that if you let him go he'll disappear. Through the door is another abandoned room, smaller and darker, with old wooden desks. Like it was some sort of office.

Numbly, you look around, only stopping when you come face to face with Nico. He's glancing down at you as he goes, trudging through another door and hall. You bite your lip, take in the way his eyebrows are pinched together and mouth pursed in a thin line. And his eyes, they're so unlike him that you don't even know what to say. Dark and droopy, almost haunted looking.

You open your mouth and the only words that come out are “You came for me?”

Nico falters in his steps, slowing down as he stares at you incredulously. “Of course I came for you baby,” he says and shakes his head in disbelief. “You thought I wouldn’t?”

“I don’t know,” you hiccup, dropping your gaze in embarrassment. “I-We’re in Philadelphia and it’s far and I didn’t know h-“

“I will always come for you,” he interrupts, unable to just stand there and let you break his heart. "Baby, you gotta know that. There's no way I would have just left you here."

His earnest rattles your chest, brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes and you swallow heavily. After everything these past couple months, you should know that. He came back for you before. But you're mind loves to focus on the month he didn't want you, the month that he did leave you.

You shake the thought away, sniffling as he comes to a stop by the back corner of the wall. "Alright baby," gently, he places you back on your feet. "I'm gonna lift you up through the vent. Jonas is out there waiting for you, he's gonna help you ou-"

"You're coming too right?"

Nico clamps his mouth shut, tilting his head sympathetically. You immediately shake yours, tightening your hold on him. "I can't - Nico please-"

"Ok, ok, breathe for me baby, breathe."

He holds your face in his hands, frowning when his thumb ghosts over the cut on your swollen cheek. Trembling, you breathe in and out with him, squeezing your eyes shut when he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.

"M'not leaving you," he promises quietly, "s'ok, I'm not leaving you."

Clinging onto him and his words, you take another deep breathe and for the first time all night, bask in the hope of walking out of here alive.

~~~~

Sidney Crosby is his real name. That's what he tells you when Nico helps you out of the car Mercer had been driving. By the time you'd driven away from the warehouse it was already going up in flames, Nico looking through the back windshield with glee.

You felt it too, for a moment. Heart thumping excitedly and relief flooding through your veins. It quickly faded when the adrenaline did, and the pain in your face, wrist, and leg returned.

Barley able to hold yourself up, Sidney motions you into the front door of his overly large mansion. Right, he's the boss, he's Johnny's boss-

"Johnny!" You gasp, straightening in Nico's hold as alarm bells go off in your head. You remember seeing him with Timo, seeing Farabee’s gun in his hand. "Johnny, where is- I left him Nico."

Both him and Mercer look at you like you’re crazy but you're already fighting off their hold, trying to limp back to the front door. "I have to go back for him," you cry when they latch onto you again, Nico easily pining you to his chest. "No, I have to-"

"He's ok, he's ok!" Nico is yelling over your cries, "He's with Timo and the others, he's ok."

You grab at Nico's hand, dig your nails into them as you sob. "I forgot him, I forgot him..."

Everything in you gives out after that, bones and muscles turning to mush in Nico's hold. He drags you across the living room and into the kitchen where a man is standing by the table with a medkit.

Now that you're crying again, you can't stop. You can barley see through your wet and swollen eyes, broken whimpers leaving your lips and Nico has to fall into the dining room chair with you in his arms, holding you tight to his chest.

You feel the sharp sting of the needle in your arm, bristling as you look up to find an unknown pair of brown eyes and a thin face peering down at you. Warmth spreads through you, everything turning to Jell-O and all you can do is lay in Nico's arm, hiccupping as they go to work fixing you.

~~~~

"I didn't realize she had such an attachment to Marino," Sid says quietly, him and Nico watching you from across the room. After Sid's personal doctor Fleury sedated you, Nico was able to hold you still until your hysterical cries had quieted. But as soon as the rest of the boys arrived and Marino came barreling into the kitchen shouting for you, he was quickly kicked out of the dining room chair.

You're holding Marino's hand, perched on top of the kitchen counter as Fleury finishes up stitching your cheek. Your poor little face is swollen and bruised, lip busted in the corner. Fleury's got a temporary cast around the wrist you fractured, and he's had to cut the pants leg off of you're injured leg to redo the messy stitches there.

"Me either," Nico murmurs, arms crossed over his chest. You look like a trainwreck to put it honestly. And yet still so sweet, even when your mind is half gone. You're talking, the words slurring a bit but it's in full, fluent Italian and from the look on Marino's face, he can understand you. So you must be pretty coherent.

It has been awhile since they sedated you to be fair. Nico still worries though, wonders what you're blabbering on about.

"Eh kid needed a friend," Sid says, nodding towards Marino. "I took him in after his father was killed in Italy, he was fresh outta college. Never really got to have fun, to be a kid. And he sure as hell never gets to speak Italian."

Nico hums. "She doesn't either," he says. "All the family she's got is us, and we don't know the language."

Him and Sid look around, take in Haula, Timo, Jonas, and Jesper sat at the kitchen table, sipping on beers as they too watch her. Jack and Mercer hover, standing behind her like they might jump into the conversation if they could.

"S'pretty good fucking family." Sid compliments.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Thanks, for your help tonight Sid. And tell Jarry thanks too."

"Of course, no problem Hischier."

"If you ever need anything, you know who to call. I guarantee my men will be fighting over chances to pay you back for her."

Sid laughs, claps Nico on the back. Before he can say anything, Marino is calling for him.

"Her highness over here is ready for a shower," he says, jabbing a thumb at her. She giggles at him, messily wiping at her sniffling nose before looking to Nico. "And she really needs one too, peeew."

Nico comes over, takes her warm hand from Marino and helps her off the counter. Sid motions to the hall across the room. "Gotta a room down here for ya, Geno took in clothes for you both."

Nodding gratefully, Nico leads you and your bambi legs down the hall and into the bedroom, closing the door behind you. Not wanting to get blood or dirt on anything, he doesn't let you sit down until your in the bathroom, perched on the countertop.

He turns the water on, strips himself of his shirt and jeans before moving to you. You're already watching him, eyes red and glossy, and you hold your arms up for him to peel you out of your shirt.

"I think I killed a Flyer," you say quietly "Johnny said maybe he lived but I didn't see him move."

Nico swallows, distracts himself with gently removing your cast from your arm. "You didn't kill anyone baby," he comforts. "Anyone that died, anyone that got hurt tonight is on me."

His throat burns as he says it, eyes stinging with tears. It's the truth, all of tonight was his fault. Your pain, Johnny's, even the Flyer you hurt, is on him. Because he put you in that situation.

"He was a bad person," you say slowly, but the words are strong and certain. Nico keeps going, helping you undress and lay your ruined clothes on the bathroom floor. "I don't feel bad, but it was scary."

"Yeah," Nico sniffles, "I was scared too."

You gasp. "You were?"

"Of course I was, I was scared I'd lost you for good this time."

Tender hands cup his jaw, force him to look up at you. You've got the sweetest smile on your lips, so pretty even with all the bruising and cuts.

"I told Johnny how much I love you. While he taught me to stitch."

He nods. "Marino kept you alive."

"Eh," you make a face, "I think it was more the thought of you. Of getting back to you. That's why he asked me about you."

Nico heart aches, the pain so bittersweet he thinks he could look down and physically see his own chest cracking open. But he keeps his eyes on you.

"You don't cry very much," you whisper, stroking his cheeks. "Maybe we should sedate you too."

Unexpectedly, a wet laugh bubbles out of him and you giggle in response. Yeah, you're definitely still feeling that shot.

"Maybe," he agrees, "but first let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed, ok?"

"Ok," you agree, sitting there patiently while he finishes undressing. "Can Johnny sleep with us?"

He frowns, helps you down from the counter. "No, he can't"

"Just in the same room then?"

"Baby, no. Why would you want that?"

You pout, looking up at him with sad eyes as he peels back the shower curtain. "I like him," you say, as if that's enough of an explanation for Nico to let another boy sleep in the bed with you.

"He's got his own bed."

"Can we sleep in there with him , then?"

Nico huffs, steps into the hot water and tries to urge you in. You don't budge.

"I want to sleep in our own bed."

You sigh, holding his hands and join him under the spray of hot water. "How about Sid then?"

Nico runs his hands over your face, wipes away all the dripping dirt and blood. "Why do you want us to sleep with everyone?"

"I don't know," you shrug, "I like Sidney Crosby."

Shaking his head, Nico laughs and helps you wet your hair.

"He's pretty," you continue, fingers reaching out to play with the wet hair matted to Nico's forehead. "If he had dimples he'd be as pretty as you."

Nico blushes. "Thank you."

"Johnny has no tooth," you add, "but he's still cute too..."

And he lets you go on and on for the rest of the shower, any little thought that pops into your head coming out, even when he's in the middle of rinsing shampoo out of your head and instructed you to keep your mouth closed. Instead you get a mouthful of suds.

Neither of you care. You mostly because you're still loopy, but for him, it's because he knows you're home safe and sound. And Giroux and the Flyers on choking on their own ashes right now.

[xoxochb]

⋆·˚ ༘ * you and I go from one kiss to getting married

warnings: this chapters short but the next one will be longer I promise

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of hades and persephone

series master list

the next morning you awoke to loud noises from outside your room. you sit up and hear the door begin to open

“I was wondering when you would wake up”

nico

“what’s going on?” you ask

“dad wanted to start wedding preparations at the crack of dawn” he closes the door and walks to the side of your bed

you look at him skeptically “are you going to take a seat?”

he shakes his head “not after what I saw last night, no”

you roll your eyes and stand up “what am I contributing to this wedding?”

nico hesitated before speaking “absolutely nothing. unless you count wedding dress try ons, that’s tomorrow”

“I thought so” you look through your closet for todays dress and nico takes this as a hint you were going to change

he gives you a sentimental smile before walking out the door, closing it behind him. once your dress had been picked out you place it on your bed and begin to slip off your nightdress but you’re interrupted- why is this your life?

“putting on a show for me?”

you slide up the straps of the nightdress and turn to see none other than perseus jackson- yet again climbing over your balcony’s railing

“what are you doing here?”

he walks over to you and puts his hands on your waist “wanted to see last nights outcome”

“I’m going to be a bride, isn’t that exciting!” you say with fake enthusiasm

he laughs at your antics “when is it?”

you shrug “wedding preparations started today, wedding dress try ons tomorrow, I assume it will be soon”

“I suppose I’ll have to swing by tomorrow”

you shake your head “how do you get down here so easily?”

“I have my ways”

“what’re you doing here now?”

“my girlfriend is getting married to another man, do you really think I would sit back and let it happen?”

he’s up to something, you know it. you stay silent until his confession

“don’t get mad-”

you cut him off quickly “I’m already mad”

“I want to stay here until the wedding”

there it is

“I don’t think so” you cross your arms “you staying here means there’s a ninety-nine percent chance you will be caught by my mother or father, would you like that? no. I have this under control, you can’t be here”

“I can’t sleep. I can’t do anything knowing that you’re down here setting up for a wedding with another man. I stay up at night thinking about you being with some random guy, marrying him, kissing him, and what if- on the wedding night he wants-”

“stop” you cup his face with your hands “do you trust me?”

“yes”

“then trust me when I say everything will be fine” you kiss him “you can stay here until tomorrow but after that you have to leave”

“yes ma’am” he agrees with a large grin

now you have to figure out how to hide a boy in your room for two days

[abiiors]

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚠𝚘 — 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚒𝚒

✧ — 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

✮ a/n: well… hashtag justice for pancake

✮ cw: smut, oral (m receiving 👀)

✮ wc: 3k

“looks like the date went well,” carly slides into the chair opposite jules, cup of coffee in hand and plate piled high with toast between them. “nico was a success?”

it takes her a full minute to remember who nico is. right, the boy that had stood her up. she’s about to open her mouth and say as much. but what will she say after? does she want to explain the deal she’s made with matty? 

forget the deal, does she want to tell carly that she slept with him?

besides, before she can even open her mouth, carly’s eyes widen, pointing at her neck. 

“jules…” she’s half-out of her seat with curiosity, “what’s that on your neck…?”

jules touches her neck in a trance, knowing exactly what’s on her neck, knowing why the skin feels tender beneath her fingers. her hair is up in a bun too, there is no hiding it. 

fuck. how had she not thought to cover it up before coming into the kitchen!

“um…” she closes her eyes, blushing slightly, “a bug bite?”

“a bug bite,” carly snorts, “looks like it was a… passionate bug.”

“ew!”

they both burst into a fit of giggles, clutching their stomachs and laughing till her ribs hurts and carly’s cheeks are red. she’s happy, jules realises with sudden clarity. there’s sun shining in her kitchen and she’s laughing with a friend and her coffee tastes extra fucking magical if she’s being honest. 

the laughter peters out and carly smiles at her. 

“you look happy, jules…”

“i am,” she bites her lip to keep her grin in. 

“are you seeing him again?”

she knows carly means nico and not matty but she’s not ready to spill that particular secret just yet. still, she tries to be as honest as possible. 

“yes, i think i am. it’s very casual though, that’s all i want right now.”

“casual is good,” carly nods, “i also have some news though, perhaps not as casual…”

jules can see her chewing on her lip in anticipation, a little flush on her cheeks as carly takes a sip of her coffee. 

“adam asked me to move in with him…”

jules bolts upright, almost upsetting the tower of toast. “what?! carly that’s amazing!”

her eyes sparkle and she grins so wide that jules can’t help but mimic it. “it is, isn’t it! but…”

“but?”

“well, you. i can’t leave you alone to pay rent on a two bedroom flat. that would be cruel!”

her eyes soften, and she extends her hand towards carly, holding onto it tight when carly places her hand in hers. 

“you are a sweetheart, but i promise you, i can afford the rent for a few more months. and i can always look for a flatmate, remember?”

carly hesitates. 

“i promiseee,” jules urges stronger. she knows how much carly likes adam, she knows how excited she is to move in with her boyfriend. it’s written all over her face really. “i’m not a child, MUM!”

carly snorts, but jules knows she’s not going to need more convincing. 

still, they go back and forth some more, jules trying to convey that she is more than happy to be alone for a few months, that she’s looking forward to it, even. she’s never lived alone before. and yes, it makes her nervous, sure, but it also fills her up with excitement.

“when do you move?” jules asks. 

“i was thinking…two weeks?”

once back in her room, jules checks her phone, frowning in disappointment. until now, she hasn’t really allowed herself to think about all of last night, but now she’s alone with her thoughts. and they won’t let her feel a moment of peace.

every time she thinks about matty she feels a familiar ache between her legs. she feels the flick of his tongue and the slight burn of his stubble. jules slides the fabric of her shorts aside and peeks at the still pink skin. she’s sure her cheeks match that shade. 

she can’t believe she’s trusted max enough to let him convince her that it would be bad. that she’d effectively never asked him to go down on her in their three year long relationship. and now jules just feels stupid. 

she has a sudden and strong urge to call him and yell at him but she’s not ready to open that can of worms yet. instead, she goes to facebook and looks matty up. 

they don’t have each other’s numbers yet—they hadn’t gotten the time to do that last night, and he’d snuck out before she’d woken up. it stings a little but jules understands. it’s better that he’d snuck out before carly got home. 

what will she say now that she’s found his facebook?

her fingers hover over the ‘send request’ button. what will she say after? love your tongue. big fan?! that’s fucking stupid. she almost backs out then, but she’s going to have to do it sooner or later. 

so she clicks, looking away like the laptop is going to implode from this simple action. her heart leaps in her chest when, a minute later, she gets a notification. he’s accepted the requested. another second later, there’s a ping.

matty: stalker ;)  matty: sorry i snuck out like that  matty: did u have a good time tho?

well, he’s direct…

jules clears her throat and starts typing. 

jules: you can say that ;) jules: sorry about looking you up like this, i didn’t have your number and… matty: u didn’t check ur nightstand?

jules sets the laptop aside, turning towards her nightstand. and there it is, clear as day and half-peeking out from under pancake the bear—a piece of paper. just as she reaches for it, her laptop pings again. 

matty: nice bear btw 

she giggles at the thought of half-naked matty finding pancake in some corner of the bed and having a little laugh. then she unfolds the paper and there it is, his number, scrawled down in uneven handwriting with the words ‘call me’ scribbled right underneath. 

jules grabs her phone and dials the number. he picks up on the second ring. 

“his name is pancake,” she speaks as soon as she hears the call connect.

“poor pancake,” matty tuts, his smile so clear in his voice, “he saw a lot of things last night.”

last night… jules flushes despite herself. she’s new to this, she doesn’t know how to act around a casual partner. all she knows is she wants to see him again… maybe return the favour.

“hi, jules,” matty says in a singsong voice, bringing her out of her thoughts. 

“about last night,” she swallows nervously, “i had fun…”

“oh yeah?” jules strains her ears to figure out where he is but everything in the background is quiet. “should we…repeat last night then?”

she’s sounds a little too eager when she responds. “when?”

“you tell me.”

if it were up to jules, she’d call him over right now. she doesn’t remember feeling like this ever, so teeming with lust and like matty’s awakened something within her that she didn’t even know was there. jules twists a strand of her hair around her finger, wondering how soon would be considered too soon. 

“tomorrow night?” she hedges, hoping it’s acceptable.

matty clicks his tongue. “shame. i was hoping for tonight.”

the fire in her stomach burns a little hotter. tonight. he was hoping for tonight. 

“i thought…”

“you thought…?”

“i thought it would be too fast.” she feels a little shy admitting it to him. for a solid minute, there’s silence on the other side, so much so that she wonders if he’s hung up on her. then she hears a small exhale. 

“i told you it’s not a relationship, jules. we don’t have to worry about speed.”

right. that’s right. he had told her that. she kicks herself for forgetting that and toys with a stray thread of her blanket. 

“tonight would be nice,” she confesses, her voice suddenly all quivery and breathy. she hears matty’s shaky exhale too. “maybe i could return the favour.”

“what favour?” the interest in his voice is clear. she giggles. 

“you’ll see.”

and then she hangs up the call, too flustered to keep on going. her body already feels like it’s on fire and jules starfishes on the bed, closing her eyes to think about last night, to think about matty in the darkness and his mouth making her see stars. how by the end of it, she’d barely been able to keep her eyes open. 

tonight, it’s his turn to feel all that.

the entire day she spends vaguely distracted and in a dreamy haze. there’s a phantom feel of matty’s fingers on his body, lust simmering under her skin. 

it’s when she showers before bed does she see the faint bruises he’s left behind, marking her with his fingers. jules blushes. 

she doesn’t know when he’s coming—pretty late, she assumes. she wants to text him once or twice, but then again, she’s rather enjoying the anticipation of it. carly, mercifully retires to her room at 10, leaving jules twisting and turning in her bed, still fully clothed. 

at 10:33, there’s a small clink on her window. she narrows her eyes at it, wondering if she hallucinated it.

a second later, another tiny clink comes. someone’s thrown a little rock at her window. oh my god! she dashes, leaning in so far out that she’s in danger of falling out.

“matty!” she hisses, half-impressed, half-concerned. 

one look at him though, and her face breaks out into a smile. his curls are all over his forehead, practically in his eyes and matty’s in the clothes that she’s started to call his ‘uniform’—a pair of black skinny jeans with rips on the knees, and an old band t-shirt. usually one of the classics. 

tonight, it’s a mazzy star one.  

he gives her a crooked grin. “can i climb up?”

jules bunches her eyebrows in concern, wondering if the pipe he’s looking at is going to hold his weight. he slaps it once as if that’s enough to test its structural integrity. 

this is bizarre! insane! he is insane. she could try to sneak him in, she’s like 50% sure it would work too. but there’s a small part of her brain that’s enjoying this thoroughly. her heart skips a beat when he slips about six steps up, only gripping onto her window frame at the very last second. 

she lets go of the breath she’d been holding, giggling at him while he swings a foot over the frame, making it inside safely. 

“hi,” she smiles, suddenly a little shy. matty gives it one second before he crashes his lips against hers. jules forgets the world.

she calls out his name in a half whisper and nudges him until his back is pressed to the wall. matty lets her manoeuvre him, mostly to satisfy his curiosity, she thinks. she can feel his smug little smirk. 

he smells mouthwatering—like the night and cigarettes and maybe even a little weed. he feels so solid and hard against her. he holds her so close too. jules pulls back reluctantly to take off his t-shirt, fingers bunched up in the hem while she goes back in for another kiss. 

“your turn today,” she whispers, trailing the kiss down to his jaw. matty jerks his head, a half nod, and moans out a yes. his pupils are dilated when he briefly opens his eyes to look at her, just it time for her to get the t-shirt off him and somewhere on the floor.  

every touch of his fingers on her chest, stomach, neck leaves little jolts of current on her skin.

he slides the straps of her cami aside, trailing his fingers down her shoulders while jules is busy kissing the hollow of his throat. his skin feels cool, like he was outside for quite some time before showing up under her window. 

under her window like some perverse iteration of romeo. 

his hand trails down, bunching her shorts up enough so he can touch her properly. jules gasps. 

“thought about you all day, darling,” he confesses, “thought about your mouth.”

jules is so lost in the feel of his touch that she doesn’t even bother correcting him. no darling, no pet names. with one last kiss, she kneels and matty shivers. the lust and anticipation is so clear on his face, in his pink, swollen, parted lips and the drooping of his eyelids. 

she feels confident like she’s never felt before. 

her hands ghost over the zipper, asking for permission. matty rests his hand on her head, fingers tangled between her wavy brown hair. it’s nowhere near tight enough to hurt but tight enough that jules knows how badly he wants it. 

the room burns hot as she fumbles with his jeans, fingers shaking with excitement. she even looks up at him, making sure to stare at him through her eyelashes like she’s the portrait of innocence. matty swallows so hard she can see his throat bob. 

“stop teasing, jules, you’ll kill me…” he sounds desperate, he sounds like he’s aching all over and heat pools in her belly. low current simmers under her skin.

“open your mouth,” he begs, “please.”

jules obeys like a good girl. 

matty pulls himself out the second she’s done undoing his zipper. the size of him, the hardness that almost twitches under her fingertips makes her mouth go dry. there’s a tiny warning, his hand caressing her head, before jules feels the weight of his cock on her tongue, tastes the vaguely salty precum. 

if this were ma–someone else, she would fake her moans and act like she’s having the best time in the world while trying to quickly get it over with.

with matty her moans are involuntary, almost like it’s him controlling her body even though one look at him and jules can tell he barely has control over himself. it’s clear from the way his hips buck, and he lets out one shaky breath after the other. 

“don’t look at me like that,” his voice quivers, “fuck, jules—”

“should i look away then?” she teases, pulling back a smidge so she can speak.

“no!” his voice is firm, a little commanding too if she’s being honest. she wants to be touched so badly. she wants to be fucked so badly. 

desperately, matty thrusts his hips and jules gags a little. his breath hitches and he’s almost about to apologise and hold back, she can feel it in her stomach, so she swirls her tongue over his slit. instantly, she is rewarded with the loudest moan she’s ever heard from him. 

her head spins.

“use me,” she moans, scratching his hip with her nails. she tilts her head up again, stealing a glance at matty. and that’s what it takes for him to lose all restraint.

she gets a second to relax her throat before he's pulling out a bit and thrusting in, harder now, deeper too. he’s using her just like she asked. fucking her face just like she wants. tears run down her face, a bit of drool running down her chin too while she breathes through her nose and matches his pace. 

jules hums and moans around him, relishing the way his whimpers and gasps have given way to soft praise. 

“pretty, perfect girl,” he almost growls, “my pretty, perfect jules.”

her stomach flutters. she clenches around nothing, rubbing her thighs together and desperate for some friction. 

she can tell he’s close by the way he's twitching inside her mouth. his hips move at a fast, erratic pace and matty’s so loud, jules wonders if carly can hear it. not that she cares… she’s never had a man so vocal. she’s never had someone groan and moan as loud as him. she feels smug pride—the kind that almost has her gloating internally. 

she’s the one making him feel that way… no one else. it’s a possessive thought that has no business being rooted in her brain like that, and yet try as she might, jules can’t get it to leave.

so she just wraps her hand around his base, giving it a firm squeeze. it pushes him over the edge. 

a moment later, she can feel her mouth being filled up with warm, salty liquid, can feel him struggling to stand on shaky legs. she tries to swallow it but she’s not a pro, some of it dribbles down her chin, mixing with the drool and the tears. 

“pretty little mess,” matty coos when he opens his eyes and looks at her. 

she grins at the praise. matty kneels in front of her, traces her lip that’s already sticky. traces its corners too. the skin under his fingers burns a little, perhaps from a stretch. but matty looks at her so much tenderness that her heart melts. 

“was i too rough?” he sounds a little uncertain, jules clicks her tongue.

“you did what i wanted you to.”

“wanted me to use you?” he smirks, almost back to his usual flirty self. “didn’t know you had such twisted ambitions.”

neither did she, jules thinks. she never thought she would enjoy any of this as much as she did. she never thought she’d be the type of person to get into a friends with benefits arrangement. and yet here she is, kneeling on the floor with her knees all red and raw, cum on her chin and her hair a mess. 

matty wrinkles his nose as he looks behind her. “poor pancake.”

she turns around too. the bear is exactly where it was before, turned just a little so it’s facing them. a beat passes and they burst into a fit of giggles. 

“poor pancake,” she echoes, looking back at matty. “i guess he’ll just have to get used to this now.”

[homestylehughes]

another blurb idea cause your girl is at loose ends rn lol

but luke is secretly seeing the new team photographer bc they’re both scared what would happen if management found out, etc. so one night jack is like “i’m going over to nico’s. don’t burn the house down”

immediately luke is texting her, telling her he’s got the place to himself and to come over. they’re enjoying their alone time. getting a bit more than comfortable on the couch… they’re so busy they don’t hear the door open until jack screams

“i thought you were going to nico’s?!”

“what?! that doesn’t matter!! you’re sleeping with the team photographer?!”

AHH MY FAVORITE forbidden love😵‍💫😵‍💫

luke has been going out with the teams for photographer y/n for around 8 months now. both of them wanting to keep it under wraps, fearful of what could happen if anyone found out. so they’ve been sneaking around everyones backs for almost a year now, not by choice. luke staying at her place once awhile and y/n coming to their place when jack wasn’t home.

so when jack told luke he’d be going to nico’s for the night, not sure when he’d be home, luke took it upon himself to invite y/n over, he hadn’t see her in a week he was starting to go crazy without her.

as soon as jack told him he’d be leaving, luke whips out his phone sending her a text, saying it’s good to come over that jack won’t be there. y/n reading the message instantly, went to get ready, quickly got into her car driving bro their place.

luke hears a knock at the door signaling that she’s there, opening the door right away he pull her into a kiss “i missed you so much” he says against her lips before walking her into the apartment. sitting down on the couch, quickly pulling her on top of him to rest in his lap.

once she’s in his lap hes quick to bring their lips back together in a heated kiss, y/n struggling to keep up with kiss. pulling away to catch a breath of air, staring at luke with a smile on her face.

“hi baby” y/n says running her hands through his hair, “hi” he responds bringing their faces close together again. their eyes full of love, locking their lips together again in a passionate kiss making up for lost time.

the make out continues to grow in tension and desperation, luke’s hands falling to her ass grabbing handfuls of it, pushing her further into his body causing her to moan into his mouth. the opening is large enough for luke to slide his tongue in her mouth as they began to fight for dominance.

luke and y/n are so into each other, that neither of them hear the front door open. jack walking in the house. his jaw immediately dropping when he sees luke making out with a girl on their couch, a girl that looks too familiar to him.

“LUKE!” jack yells from the door way, causing them to break apart, both sets of eyes widening as they see jack standing in front of him. y/n immediately dripping her head into luke’s neck shelding herself from jack hiding in embarrassment.

“i thought tou where going to nico’s for the night?” luke says his voice frantic

“i didn’t know you where sleeping with the team photographer” jack replies raising his hands up in the air before dropping them.

“she’s my girlfriend” luke replies

“WHAT?” jack says now making his way to one of the chairs in the living room taking a seat.

“tell me everything now” he says with a smile on his face.

OKAY OMG HOPEFULLY THAT WAS GOOD. I LOVED THIS IDEA!!! MWAH

[buoyantsaturn]

for writing prompts!! the line “i wish you told me your mom was coming” or “stay here with me. for the rest of our lives.” which give very different vibes lol <3 but if you hate them no pressure!!

thank u for the prompt!! this came out so much longer than expected!!! 1.1k under the cut!!

Nico had been buzzing all day with the knowledge that he and Will had a movie date that evening. Will’s mom was going to pick them up from school and drop them off at the theater, since Will wouldn’t be able to get his license for another few months, and since there weren’t any busses that would get them where they needed to go.

They were going to see some space movie that Will loved, because the nearby theater was doing a special screening for some of the classics, so naturally Nico jumped at the chance to get them tickets. Personally, he didn’t care much to see the movie, but he was happy to see how excited Will had been, and he was looking forward to spending time with his boyfriend.

Most of all, now that he’d finally thought up the perfect way to do it, Nico was bursting at the seams to kiss Will for the first time. He knew it was a little cliche - the hand holding on the armrest, the yawn-and-stretch move, and most of all kissing in the back row of the theater - but these things were cliche for a reason, okay? It was all going to work out perfectly, because Nico refused to chicken out.

Until he realized that Naomi wasn’t dropping them off in the firelane outside the theater, but instead pulling into a parking spot. Then, she was walking them inside, flashing her own ticket to gain access to the concessions stand, and… Nico kind of wanted to cry.

He squeezed Will’s hand and tugged him closer, whispering in his ear, “I wish you told me your mom was coming.”

Will looked at him with confusion clear on his face in the furrow between his brows. “Why wouldn’t she? She loves Star Wars, almost as much as I do!”

Nico tried not to pout. “But… We’re on a date.”

“It’s fine,” Will assured him, “it’s not like she’s gonna sit with us. Maybe she’ll even buy us popcorn!”

Nico started to feel a little better once they got into the theater and Naomi picked a seat near the middle of the room, while Nico and Will kept climbing higher. Will propped the bag of popcorn on the armrest between them - bought by Naomi, which, okay, that helped Nico feel a little better, too - though Nico suddenly couldn’t think of anything other than his master plan. How was he supposed to hold Will’s hand on the armrest if there was a bag of popcorn there? How would he smoothly slide an arm around Will’s shoulders if Will wasn’t leaning in that direction? How was Nico going to draw Will’s attention away from the popcorn and the soda and his favorite movie long enough for Nico to kiss him?

Maybe he hadn’t thought this through as well as he’d thought.

As soon as the movie started, Nico turned into a nervous wreck. He couldn’t focus on a single thing - he had no idea what was happening in the movie, though he’d caught Will whispering some of the lines to himself at the same time as the actors spoke them on screen, which was just proof that Will had seen the movie too many times already. At some point, Nico was pretty sure Will had moved the bag of popcorn to the floor, because his hand wound up on the armrest. Nico’s eyes kept flickering down to it, though his nerves got the best of him, so he never reached out to take it. He did lean closer to Will, though, as if psyching himself up for the yawn-and-stretch move.

Then, Will’s arm slipped around his shoulders, and Nico almost jumped out of his seat. Did this mean that Will was on the same page? Was Will going to try to kiss him? Oh, now Nico’s nerves were through the roof. Why did he ever think he would be able to pull this off?

Nico tried to relax against Will’s shoulder, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to untense. He lifted his head a few times, trying to catch Will’s eyes so that he could pull the other into a kiss, but Will was always too enthralled by the movie. When the end credits started to roll, Nico felt himself sink into his seat in shame, having officially chickened out despite having the perfect opportunity. Or maybe it hadn’t been as perfect as it seemed.

As other moviegoers started to pack up to leave, Will sat up straighter and turned to Nico with a bright grin. “So? What did you think? Wasn’t it amazing? It’s so much better on such a big screen, it’s almost like you’re there, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Nico said nervously, “it was...great.”

“What was your favorite part?”

When you put your arm around me, Nico thought, but he knew he couldn’t say that, because that would be embarrassing, and would probably also cue Will into the fact that he hadn’t been paying any attention to what was happening on screen. He flushed with embarrassed horror as he watched Will’s eyes widen, and he realized that he had, in fact, said those words out loud.

“Oh,” Will said, a blush rising up on his own cheekbones. “Yeah, I...thought that was nice.”

“Me, too,” Nico replied, and ducked his head. He reached out for Will’s hand and held it on the armrest between them. “I also kind of wanted to hold your hand the whole time, and, um…” Would he have the courage to say it?

“Can I kiss you?” Will asked, and Nico’s head snapped up as Will beat him to the punch. “I, um-- I mean, is that too cheesy? Having a first kiss in a movie theater? If you’re not ready, we don’t have to, but. Um. I would...like to, if… If you wanna.”

Nico was nodding his head so fast he started to get dizzy.

“Okay,” Will whispered, and took a deep breath. Nico realized in that moment that Will was just as nervous as he was, which actually helped to calm him down.

Nico leaned in, squishing their noses together as their lips met, and he pulled away just as quick. He squeezed Will’s hand, though he had to look away, as if to hide the growing red coating his face.

When he finally chanced a look back at Will, he saw the other boy beaming back at him.

They held hands in the back seat of Naomi’s SUV for the entire drive to Nico’s parent’s house, both as red as tomatoes with matching smiles. When Naomi pulled into the driveway, Will insisted on walking Nico to the door, where he kissed Nico just as quickly as before, though there was a distinct lack of nose squishing, so it was so much better than before.

Nico couldn’t wait for the next kiss.

[ocegion]

Joe hadn’t been able to read a single paragraph in his book for the last fifteen minutes. His eyes couldn’t stay on the page for more than a few seconds before they fleeted over to the other side of the room, fixing on Nicky, who was reading a book of his own. The lamp in the little, narrow bedroom in their current safehouse had a cold, sterile light that that made him look paler than usual, nearly sick. His gaze trailed on the way Nicky’s fingers twitched on the edge of the page, again and again, before they unconsciously rose up to brush the exact point on his neck where he’d been sedated, little more than 24 hours before.

He’d had a bullet come out the back of his head, and yet it was that syringe, the sensation of its prickle faded before its effect could even kick in, that had his body dealing with the aftermath.

For Joe, it was the sensation of his bound wrists. The feeling of his skin tearing and healing as he pulled and pulled as hard as he could, as hard as he’d pulled in his long life, and earned nothing to show for it but the worry he saw in Nicky’s eyes from the bed next to his.

Pain was easy to brush off at this point. Not so much what came along it.

Joe sighed, minute and silent, barely more than an exhale, and closed his book. Nicky hadn’t given any sign of having being paying attention to him, but he closed his own book as well immediately after. His eyes remained on the cover for one, two, three seconds before looking at Joe, expectant.

‘We need to talk.’

No one else would have noticed the way Nicky’s lips twitched, less than half an inch, less than half a second. But no one else had spent centuries studying that face. Joe studied it once more, never tired of it, took in the way the other waited for him to go on.

He shook his head lightly, crossed his arms.

‘So twenty years, huh?’

Nicky tried his best to remain stoic, but the edge of his lips twitched again in a far more noticeable manner now. Slowly, he mirrored Joe’s position, a slight tension giving a square shape to his shoulders.

‘A hundred years, Joe. We settled on a hundred.’

‘That’s not what you wanted. You wanted to make it twenty.’

‘What does it matter? I agreed on a hundred, we all agreed on it, and I’m going to stick with that’ the other said, voice even, the layer of frustration under his voice barely even there. ‘Do you think I’m going to sneak behind your back to send him text messages? I’m not that childish. I can commit to what I say.’

‘You’re not that obtuse either’ Joe huffed, rolling his eyes. ‘You know what I’m getting at.’

‘You expressed your opinion, and so did I. We didn’t agree at first, so what?’ Nicky’s lips thinned and he crossed his arms tighter, nearly petulant. ‘We’re far past thinking we should be of a single mind about every single subject. You know that as well as I do.’

Joe stood up, his jaw twitching in annoyance, his fingers tapping repeatedly on his bicep. He took two steps closer, more than half the distance between them. Nicky raised his eyes at him, but remained unimpressed. ‘I know that. I know you. Which is why I’m having such a hard time believing you think Booker deserved as little as that.’

The scowl on Nicky’s face faltered, and again it was just long enough to be noticed by someone who knew those features better than his own. He looked away, at the floor to the right of Joe’s feet, and shifted in his seat. ‘Booker betrayed us, he exposed us and put us at risk, and he has to answer for that. I’m not denying that, Joe, I’m not. But how can we ignore what drove him to betraying us in the first place?’ He met Joe’s eyes, his own wide open, earnest, as if honestly looking for an answer. ‘A hundred years is going to leave all of us worse off than we’re now. Leave him worse. Do you really not feel at all like we’re making a mistake?’

‘Don’t be self-righteous, it doesn’t suit you.’

‘And it’s not like I was letting it slide with an apology, like Nile’ Nicky continued, pointedly ignoring Joe. ‘Twenty felt like enough to get the point across.’

‘Nile is young and she is soft. Life will take those things from her, and I have no intention of speeding up the process. But you, Nico, you should know better than that. You know what he’s done deserves far more than twenty. That’s letting him go with a warning. A symbolic punishment.’

‘To us, but not to him’ Nicky raised. ‘It’s so much more to him. He’s barely older than Nile. He’s almost a child.’

‘A brat, that’s what he is’ Joe huffed, narrowing his eyes. ‘A selfish brat who doesn’t want to grow up because he likes wallowing in self pity in the corners saying no one understands him. And you know what? Maybe he’s right and we don’t. I don’t care. That doesn’t give him the right to drag us down with him, to resent us for daring to be happy. Don’t forget, Nicky’ he added, pointing a finger, ‘that this isn’t about him, or about getting a point across. It’s about the time we need to get past that stunt of his. I can’t speak for you, but twenty years isn’t going to cut it for me to forget he was willing to have all of us tied to a lab table being experimented on for who knows how long. We have a right to be angry.’

Nicky didn’t immediately answer, just stared for a long moment, jaw tense, and then looked down. Joe managed to stay firm for about ten seconds before he couldn’t keep the angrily stern look on his face. Closing his eyes, he let out a long, deep sigh, the frustration and roughness leaving him as the air left his lungs. He felt like a wound that had had the scab ripped off, exposing the flesh underneath, an angry, furious shade of red, but most of all tender and vulnerable.

He found himself getting into his knees, making a space for himself between Nicky’s legs as he reached for the man’s hand, meeting no resistance at all. He held it, gently, then brought his other hand around it so that he was sheltering it between his own. He kissed it once, twice, thrice, then brought it up to his face, held it against his cheek. Nicky’s thumb gingerly brushed against his jawbone, and Joe sighed again. Their eyes met, both calm this time, searching the depths of the other’s gaze.

‘I know what you’re thinking. But Nicky, you’re allowed to be angry. You know that, right? You are.’

Nicky didn’t immediately answer. He escaped Joe’s gentle yet firm eyes, jaw clenching as he swallowed hard and his lips twisted into an uneasy grimace. Not at Joe, just at it all.

‘He did what he did because he felt alone. How are we supposed to look him in the eye after leaving him on his own for a hundred years? Tell him we didn’t care he was suffering on his own, then act like nothing happened? I don’t know how I can do that.’ He stopped, waited a long moment, then added, unsure, ‘Do you think…? Have we ever given him reason to think we don’t care?’

‘No’ Joe replied immediately, gentle but giving no room to argument. ‘Andy knows we care for her and would do anything for her, and it’s not our fault Booker didn’t want to see it too. Even if it was, he had no reason to keep it all to himself and then blame us for not being able to read his mind. He’s not a kid and he’s not a moody teen, either. He’s been an adult for nearly three centuries, it’s about time he learned to act like one. That includes learning he can’t wipe it all away when he fucks up just by saying he’s sad. You’d agree with me if it was anyone else.’

It was, mostly, things that they’d already said the previous day, but Joe knew Nicky needed to hear them again, in private, calmly, from him. Needed it so he could accept it.

‘He’s our friend’ Nicky tried one last time, unsure.

‘He’s our friend,’ Joe accepted with a nod, ‘and he betrayed us both. He betrayed us all. He betrayed Andy as if she hadn’t given us her everything since the very beginning. He betrayed Nile and he didn’t even care that she’s a kid going through the most terrifying moment in her life, he was willing to have her experimented on all the same. How am I supposed to act like he deserves having his feelings taken into account over ours?’ He reached out, brushed his fingertips on Nicky’s chin, asking for him to look at him again. ‘Nicky, he had you tied to that table. I can’t forgive that within a lifetime.’

Nicky’s eyes were still cast down, his expression tense, conflicted. Joe’s thumb dragged along his chin, traced the edge of his lips.

‘He had me tied to that table to be tortured until I died. Are you okay with that? Nicolò, do you expect me to believe you’re not angry about what he did to me?’

Nicky’s eyes shot up, sharp and full of a cold clarity. ‘Of course I’m angry’ he said, and his words shook with the latent strain underneath he no longer bothered to hide. ‘I’m furious. I’m confused and I’m hurt. I swear to God that I’d kill him with my own hands if he were here. I hate him, Joe. I don’t want to, but I hate him.’.

‘Nicky, let yourself be angry. It’s alright. You don’t need to be the better person, not when he’s hurt us like this.’

Nicky brusquely stood up, taking Joe with him so he could embrace him. He wrapped his arms so tightly around him that they shook, fisted his hands on his back until they dug into his flesh, hid his face on Joe’s neck to the point he feared he’d suffocate himself. Still, all Joe did was hush him and lovingly return the embrace.

‘He heard us talk about Quynh and he said nothing’ Nicky said, the strain stronger now, making the words come out in uneven exhales of hot air on Joe’s skin. ‘He had already set us up to suffer the same way she did and heard us talk about how much we feared it and he just- He said nothing. He could have told us what he’d done, give us enough time to run, and I would have understood why he did it and forgiven him. But- He didn’t care. He didn’t, Joe, he didn’t. I can’t believe-  I wanted to hurt him, when he told us. I wanted to make him feel it, and I feel awful about it. And then I get angry because I shouldn’t be the one feeling bad. Of course I’m angry. How could I not be?’

Joe didn’t say anything, just caressed his head, kissed his temple, encouraged him to go on.

‘I just- I can’t understand it. I’m trying to, but I can’t. And all I can think of is that he must have been suffering so much and we didn’t even notice, because I can’t understand how he could be so selfish. We’re his family. We’ve tried to be, at least, but he clearly doesn’t feel that way, and I want to understand when and how we failed him so much, and if I’m angry at him then I’m not going to figure it out and I can fix nothing and it’ll be the same, so I can’t be angry, and that makes me feel worse, and I just-’

‘You can be angry’ Joe repeated, soothing, gently rocking Nicky with him. Nicky didn’t protest the interruption, just inhaled deeply and buried himself deeper in Joe. ‘You need to be angry. He’s got to deal with this shit, but we have to deal with it too. That’s not gonna happen if we don’t accept it. I know sometimes it’s hard for you to be selfish, but please, Nico, be selfish. Accept it. Tell yourself it’s okay to let him face consequences and forget about him until then. I don’t want you to still be hurt over this in a hundred years, alright? Promise me.’

Nicky didn’t say anything back, but the small nod Joe felt on his shoulder was more than enough for him. He breathed in, filling his lungs as much as they would with Nicky’s scent, still needing to make sure he was there with him, safely in his arms.

For a long, long moment neither of them spoke. Then, Joe let out a shaky chuckle.

‘I was terrified’ he confessed, his tone nearly cheerful as the hysteric tension finally left his body after having been kept in for so long. ‘I’ve forgotten the last time I felt so scared. I was terrified of them actually figuring something out and then I’d lose you. Or I’d leave you alone. I’m going to have nightmares about yesterday for years. I can’t just brush that off. I can’t and I don’t want to, and I’d like to think I have a right to that.’ He realized a tear was falling down his cheek, and he promptly let the rest follow suit. He buried his face in Nicky’s hair and let out a sound that was halfway between gasp and sob.

Nicky’s grip tightened even more, then loosened, just a bit. He waited for a long moment, waiting to see if Joe had to let any more else out, and then drew back, just enough to be able to look at his face. He cupped his cheeks with his hands, brushed a teardrop off, and came closer,  kindly pressing their lips together.

‘I was being selfish’ he muttered against Joe’s face. ‘I didn’t want to even think about it and didn’t realize you needed to talk about it. That I made you think I didn’t care. I’m sorry, Joe. I’m so, so sorry.’

Joe shook his head, denying the apology, the need for it. Nicky scowled, took air, but Joe beat him to it before he had time to complain. ‘I needed to know that you understood me’ he admitted, his smile weak but more genuine than he’d been able to muster lately. ‘Of course I know you care, Nicky. You always do. And I have no doubts about what we did. But it helps, hearing it’s just not me.’

Nicky still looked unconvinced, but he said nothing, merely shaking his head instead. He caressed Joe’s cheek agan, then pressed his forehead to his neck. He let out a tired chuckle.

‘And I say Booker’s a child. Look at me. You’d think emotion management would be something I’d have under control by now.’

‘We’re still human, Nico’ Joe supplied kindly. ‘That’s the one thing we’re never going to outgrow.’

Joe patted Nicky on the back, directing him towards the bed, and the other presented no effort otherwise. They lied down, side by side looking into each other’s eye. Their hands were joined in between them, and their faces so close that their breaths mixed, hot on their faces. For a long while, that was all they did.

‘He’s right, you know’ Nicky eventually said, barely more than a whisper. ‘We’re lucky. We’ve always had each other. If it hadn’t been like that… I couldn’t function. I don’t want to know the person I’d have become if you’d never been there. He would have done much worse things than Booker.’

‘You wouldn’t’ Joe complained, and Nicky let out a laugh before going in for a kiss. Joe’s features softened immediately, and his eyes were warm with tenderness when they parted.

Nicky had had nightmares, too, and had spent the day afraid of going back to sleep. Now, his eyes went over Joe’s face once more, taking in every inch of his skin, and had no doubt that when he showed up in his dreams that night, this would be what he looked like.

‘I’m glad we never have to find out.’

[solbabies]

CSI But Make It PJO

While writing this I remembered that Will is from Texas so I tried to incorporate some generic southern twang but IDK! Enjoy!

________________

Will lifted the thumbprint off of the broken shard of glass, holding the tape under the light to make sure the transfer stuck. Laying in onto the tracing sheet, he ran his finger over it to secure it in place.

“Anything interesting?” Jackson asked from the doorway, his badge catching the strong fluorescent lights overhead.

“Nothin’ anyone’s gonna to write a book about,” Will joked, peeling away his rubber gloves and tossing them into the trash, next to the work bench. “What can I do for you, detective?”

“I came to see if you started on my case yet?” He wore a brilliant smile that only served to charm the forensic scientist and convey how desperately he needed his evidence processed.

“Which is that again?” Will asked, sliding his chair to the stack of boxes piling up in the workspace.

“Beckendorf. C,” Percy told him with a somber note to his voice. Will raised his brow at the infliction, but didn’t press. Muttering the last name to himself, Will moved alphabetically past the As to the Bs.

“Here it is,” Will announced tapping an unopened box from Major Crimes. “I haven’t gotten to it yet, I’ve had a shortage of hands and too many cases to get through.”

“Is there any chance you can bump it up your ‘to do’ list?” Will hummed, slicing through the seal on the box and removing the case file. Looking through it, he shook his head.

“Even if I could, I wouldn’t be able to finish the report. The autopsy hasn’t come through, which means the shrapnel from the… explosion, is it?” Percy nodded. “The explosion hasn’t been removed and sent over yet.”

“Great,” Jackson sighed, running his hand through his hair, sweeping it out of his face. “Do you know what morgue he was sent to?” Will pushed his chair over to his computer, typing in the case number into his system.

“The one downstairs, actually,” Will mused. Bodies got sent anywhere and everywhere depending on the day; Percy was lucky the body wasn’t sent to the Bronx or Jersey.

“Great! So you can go and get that report fast tracked then!” the detective cheered, tapping his hand on the doorframe. Will leaned back in his seat.

“I’d love to, Jackson, but that ain’t happenin’.”

“Come on, di Angelo hates me. He will literally move it further down his list to piss me off.”

“What’s so important about this case? You know we can’t just magically move cases around at the beck and call of the precinct.” Percy shifted from foot to foot, a serious look overcoming his usually positive attitude.

“I have a personal stake in this case and I’d like to solve it as soon as possible.” Will bit his lip, watching his friend beg him for help.

“This is an abuse of power,” Will groaned, standing up and snatching the casefile as he rose. “I can get in serious trouble for this, Percy.”

“I love you so much, Will,” the detective said with a smile curling on his lips.

Will scrunched his nose up as the elevator door dinged open, flooding him with cool air and the anticipated unsettling smell of the mortuary. He hadn’t gone completely numb to the smell but it had lost its edge.

“Hey,” Will announced his presence as he walked into the office. Luckily di Angelo hadn’t been cutting into a cadaver at the moment but rather searching through files in the small room near the back. Nico turned around at the sound of Will’s voice, a surprised but content expression settled on his features.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Will shrugged walking over to perch himself on the desk.

“Visitin’.” Nico’s skepticism came in the form of a huff and a side eye as he continued to rummage.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any ulterior motives?” Will tucked the file behind his back, playfully hiding it from the other’s sight.

“Absolutely not, sugar.” Nico made a face at the endearment, the southern nicknames always worked best to make him blush.

“Sure,” Nico said, shutting the drawer and allowing Will to pull him by his hand into the other’s arms.

“Can’t I just miss you?” Will asked innocently, before kissing Nico sweetly. While the kiss was meant to distract his husband, in the moment, Nico managed to steal the file out of Will’s hand instead. “Cheater.”

“Hate the game,” Nico countered with a laugh. He opened the file, skimming over the contents of it before handing it back to Will. “Yeah, this is Jackson’s case. It’s like…” Nico looked up at the ceiling as he counted in his head. “Like number eight on my list right now, what about it?”

“Is there any way you could bump it up?” Nico tipped his head to the side, his arms crossing in front of his chest.

“So Jackson is using you against me? Low.”

“It’s important to him, Ni.” Nico rolled his eyes.

“So are all the other cases I have going on. I have so many bodies piling up in here it’s practically like the underworld.”

“Does that make you… Charon?”

“I see myself more as Hades, thank you very much,” Nico corrected him. Will looked at him with big eyes, hoping to use love to his advantage. Nico glared at him, his straight face not budging under the pressure of Will’s look.

“Please, sweetheart?” Nico held his stare for a few more moments before sighing.

“I’ll bump him to five.”

“Three.”

“Four, and that’s it.” Will smiled at him, slipping off the desk and landing his feet back on the floor.

“Thank you,” he said, kissing him again.

“Only for you, sunshine.”

__________

“I got it bumped to number four,” Will told Percy over the phone once he had arrived back at his office.

“You’re magical, Solace,” he praised, thankingly. Will gave him a light laugh, rolling his eyes although he knew the detective couldn’t see him.

“Yeah, yeah, but Nico wants you to know that if you, and I quote, ‘ever use my husband against me to complete your own agenda, you will find yourself visitin’ my morgue in a bodybag’.”

“Lovely,” Jackson noted. “Understood. Thanks, again.”

“This is where most people would say ‘anytime’ but this is never happening again.”

“Nice talking to you too, Will. I swear, di Angelo is rubbing off on you. You’re sounding like him more and more each day.”

“Goodbye, detective.” Will hung up but not without a shake of his head as he did.

[writingpaperghost]

There is a Me Who Can Become Strong (Chapter 17)

Chapter 17: A Non-Standard BURGSTER?!

It's Emu's day off, but Yuko finds someone strange.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32857183/chapters/83823709

Today, Emu was given the day off. Mostly because, according to Poppy, he was “too stressed” and “needed rest after everything with Yuko and revealing himself”. Also because Saki had a full day of surgeries today and wouldn’t be able to supervise him. So barring any Bugster related emergencies, he had the day off.

He’d allowed himself to indulge in a day of just being himself and not being Emu, so he wasn’t even in his Emu disguise, which was odd given he didn’t often do that. He’d gotten so used to both looking and acting like Emu, so it was still weird when he wasn’t. Acting like Emu sometimes fell away, when he just couldn’t keep up the personality, but even then, he still kept up his appearance. Admittedly, his outfit might draw some attention, but for the most part he figured he’d be fine.

Normally, when Emu took the day off, he just stayed inside, since people were, well, hard. But not today! Today he was being adventurous. Today, he was at a park. He was still playing video games, obviously, but now he was doing it outside. Which is pretty different from what he’d normally do.

Of course, Emu was never quite so lucky to have a boring day stay boring. And then Yuko arrived.

---

Yuko was idly munching on her burger and fries, not that she was a big fan of burgers. But she was settled at a restaurant today, her laptop opened. She was mostly focusing on typing away on her keyboard, occasionally taking a bite of burger or fries.

At least, she was, until she finds her burger mysteriously missing. The culprit of which she was easily able to find, only because he was large and burger shaped, though a scarf attempted to hide such a thing. She quickly deduced he was probably a Bugster, but why was he stealing burgers? Jumping up from her seat, Yuko grabs her laptop and chases after him.

“Hey!” She called, prompting the burger to run away, “Come back here!” This probably had the opposite of the intended effect, but Yuko was pretty good at running.

Eventually, she catches up with the burger shaped burger thief, who had found a man, who was clearly worrying over the burger Bugster. Concerned, the man said, “Burgermon, you have to be careful…”

“I’m sorry, Tsukuru,” The burger Bugster, Burgermon, responded, “I just wanted some burger, burg.”

Slowing down, Yuko watches the two for a moment, before speaking up, “So a burger Bugster who likes burgers?” This causes the two, Tsukuru and Burgermon, to turn their attention to her, “You could have just, like, asked. I don’t even eat burgers all that much.”

Tsukuru quickly apologized, “I’m sorry he stole your burger,” An act that Yuko didn’t’ think was necessary, given she wasn’t really all that mad. “Don’t tell anyone about Burgermon! I don’t want them to hurt him!”

One thing that was quickly becoming clear about Burgermon, was that he wasn’t like normal Bugsters. At this point, a regular Bugster would definitely have tried to do something to really stress out their host. Not to mention, what game is a burger Bugster even from?

Compared to other Bugsters – and Yuko knew that she had a small pool of reference to pull from – Burgermon was hardly dangerous. Yuko blinked, “I’m going to assume you’re the one who’s infected. But… why are you so fond of him? He could cause you to die.”

At that, Burgermon shrinked closer to Tsukuru, nearly trying to hide behind him. Tsukuru just seemed sad, “I know, but he’s… He’s not violent like other Bugsters. Burgermon just wants burgers.”

“Clearly,” Yuko laughs, “But… I still think you should go to the CR about this. They might be able to figure out a way to cure you without having to… kill Burgermon.” Given they had both Poppy and more importantly Emu on their team, it was almost certain they’d want to figure out how to cure Tsukuru peacefully.

Still, Tsukuru seemed hesitant, so Yuko tries again, “Really, they’re all weirdly nice there,” Then, what she really hopes will convince them, the reason she herself was convinced, “Besides, there’s twoBugsters working at the CR, I’m sure they’d all love to let there be another Bugster who can live peacefully with humans. They only fight Bugsters because the ones they fight don’t give them a choice.”

Tsukuru looks at Burgermon for a moment, then back at Yuko, “Okay,” He answers hesitantly.

So Yuko leads the two with her back to the CR, seeing no reason in calling in and making a fuss. Along the way, she talks with Tsukuru and Burgermon, finding that Burgermon was really a polite boy and the two almost seemed like father and son. Which was sweet, really, and made Yuko hope even more that the CR would be able to find a solution to this dilemma.

It was along the way to the CR, that she sees Emu, not at all disguised as Emu and instead in his proper appearance. He was sitting on a bench in the park playing a game on his Gemnboy – Mighty Action X, she determines when she comes close enough to hear the sounds.

“Hey, Emu!” At her call, Emu startles, then looks up, visibly confused.

After a moment, he sighs and asks, “Yuko, why is there a giant burger behind you?” At that question, Burgermon shrinks behind Tsukuru once more.

“He’s a Bugster,” She answered, “His name is Burgermon.”

---

Emu joins Yuko on her journey to bring Tsukuru and Burgermon to the CR, once more in his Emu appearance. Not that the journey lasted much longer, since they were dramatically interrupted by the arrival of none other than Kuroto Dan.

“Para-DX,” He called, pointing at Emu, “I will destroy your illegal game!”

Tsukuru blinked and quietly asked, “Is that…?”

“He’s gone a bit crazy in six years, I think,” Yuko answers.

Yet it’s Emu himself who disrupts Kuroto’s plan. Not by resisting, though, but by sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. “Um, about that…” He pulls out only Mighty Action X, “I… left my other Gashats at home.”

“What?!” Yuko gasped, grabbing Emu’s arm, “Seriously?”

Hurriedly, he tugs his arm away, “Yes!”

Kuroto pauses in thought for a moment, “Well I have another bootleg to get rid of,” Then he turns his sights to Burgermon, “He too comes from an illegal game.”

Yuko whips her head to look at him and glares, “I swear, if try to harm a crumb on Burgermon’s body I will murder you with my own two hands!” She attempts to run at him, but Emu grabs her and holds her back.

“Yuko, no! That’s a bad idea!” Despite his protests, Yuko continued to struggle, but was unable to break free.

Finally, Yuko calmed down, right in time for Kuroto to pull out his Buggle Driver and the Dangerous Zombie Gashat. In turn, Emu pulls out the Mighty Action X Gashat.

Dangerous Zombie!

Mighty Action X!

Buggle Up! Danger! Danger! (Genocide!) Death the crisis! Dangerous Zombie!

Level up! Mighty jump! Mighty kick! Mighty-Mighty Action X!

Gemn lunges towards Burgermon, but Emu intercepts, slashing at him with his axe. It does little to phase Gemn, though. The best he can really do is block Gemn’s attacks, which was better than nothing, but certainly not ideal.

Bang Bang Critical Strike!

A shot hits Gemn, knocking him back as Nico slides on scene, “Not getting in too far over your head, are you M?”

As the two begin to fight Gemn, both mostly blocking his attacks, behind them, Tsukuru perks up. “I know,” He said, pulling something out of his pocket, “One of them could use this.”

It was a Gashat, yellow and red, with it’s label declaring it the Ju Ju Burger Gashat. Yuko’s never heard of the game, though she isn’t really one who’s terribly knowledgeable about games. Still, she grabs it and catches Emu’s attention.

“Hey, Emu!” At her words, Emu turns to face her and she throws the Gashat. “Tsukuru said to use it.”

Emu nods and activates the Gashat.

Ju Ju Burger!

Bur~ger~ (Ju Ju) Bur~ger~ (Ju Ju) Ju Ju Burger!

The first thing Emu realizes is that he has roller skates. The next thing he realizes is that he has mustard and ketchup bottles on his arms. Thankfully, Emu wasn’t as clumsy as the real Emu was and was actually able to use roller skates.

“I’ll make burgers with no continues!”

The usage of this Gashat only seemed to piss off Gemn more, “You dare to use a bootleg Gashat? Against me?”

Nico shoots him, “Shut up, Gemn,” She groans, “No one wants to hear you gripe about illegal games or whatever.”

The two were able better keep Gemn back, but even then, were still clearly struggling. Ju Ju Burger helped, but it still wasn’t quite enough to really stop Gemn. Ju Ju Burger was only Level 4, which was definitely better than Level 2 like Emu’d been using, but Nico was still only using Level 2…

Finally, Gemn huffed, “Fine, the illegal games survive this time,” His voice is cold, “But it won’t next time.”

---

When they return to the CR, their able to ask Tsukuru more about who he was and what had caused Burgermon. He worked at Gemn Corp. and had been infected somehow when working on Ju Ju Burger, causing Burgermon to appear. He then made the Ju Ju Burger Gashat, hoping that it could help the CR if they ever found out about Burgermon.

Yuko was right that Burgermon was more or less harmless and it was clear that the source Tsukuru’s stress was if something happened to Burgermon. So they were in a bit of a complicated position.

Not too long after they got to the CR, Saki arrived and stared right at Emu, “You’re supposed to have the day off,”

“Yuko found us a patient,” Emu explains, “But it’s a bit complicated.”

“Burgermon is a nice Bugster,” Yuko frowns, “And hurting him will stress Tsukuru.”

Nico groans, “But if Tsukuru gets too stressed, whether from Burgermon being in danger or otherwise, we’ve also got a problem,” She stretches, “We can’t not do something, but we also can’t fight Burgermon.”

Adding on, Emu sighs, “And Kuroto seems really annoyed about both Burgermon’s and the Ju Ju Burger Gashat’s existence,” He shakes his head, “He’s already targeted him once.”

Saki takes in their words, the sounds of Poppy and Burgermon making burgers in her cabinet in the background. No one wanted to fight Burgermon, let alone kill him, but they weren’t sure how to cure Tsukuru otherwise.

---

“Ju Ju Burger, you said?” Mu was perched on the couch, staring at Kuroto, “Like the one that Mr. Tsukuru’s always wanted to continue? The one that’s practically his baby?”

Kuroto huffed, “Yes, Mu, that Ju Ju Burger,”

Who would be able to get infected by a game that wasn’t even finished? The only one who even kept working on that game was… “Is the one infected Mr. Tsukuru?”

“Hm?” Kuroto had already turned his attention back to his computer, the other double Gashat with a knob and Taddle Quest hooked up to it. “Oh, yes, I believe so.”

Mu stared for a moment, “I hope they cure him,” He said quietly. He liked Mr. Tsukuru, he was nice and often would talk to Mu about what he was working on. Mu hadn’t had a chance to talk to him in a while, having not been at Gemn Corp as much since Christmas. Masamune didn’t want to risk another run-in like the one he’d had with Lazer. “So what are you working on now?”

Curling his lips into a smile, Kuroto answers, “I’m upgrading Taddle Quest, of course. It’ll be stronger, like your Gashat.”

Furrowing his brows, Mu just nods, “Okay,”

---

When Emu comes into the CR the next day, he’s startled by Poppy immediately popping into his face, “Burgermon’s missing!”

“What?”

How could Burgermon have gone missing? It would be really hard to lose a whole burger Bugster. Still, Poppy’s worry makes it clear that Burgermon has, in fact, disappeared on her.

As the two rush up the stairs, hoping to find some kind of clue hiding somewhere. The clue was rather obvious, though, given the pickles placed carefully on a tray, with letters written in ketchup.

Saki began to walk up the stairs with Director Kagami at her side, when Poppy declares, “It’s a message in pickles!”

Blinking, Saki asked, “A… message? In pickles…?”

Emu quickly explained, “Burgermon’s disappeared, but it looks like he left a message.”

Poppy reads the message, “I’ve gone to go make Tsukuru better, burg.”

“Make him better?” Emu echoes, “How does he think he’ll do that?”

“I don’t know,” Saki shakes her head, “But we need to find him.”

They find him in a park, dramatically declaring, “If you don’t get away from me, they’ll be ketchup! I mean blood!” It certainly prompted people to run away. Except for Nico and Yuko, who had already been there.

Yuko was practically pulling at Burgermon’s arm, “Come on, Burgermon! Think of how sad Tsukuru will be if something happens to you!” Nico just watches, transformed, but clearly unsure what to do.

“She’s right, Burgermon,” Tsukuru pleaded, “Don’t do this!”

Burgermon just shakes his head, “No, I was actually evil all along, burg!”

Emu didn’t believe that, “Even if you are a villain, there are other roles you can play than being defeated.”

“Remember Burgermon,” Poppy began, “Your game is about making you happy, not hurting other people!”

He doesn’t say anything in response, instead, he launches an attack of various burger toppings. Emu transforms using Ju Ju Burger, and shoots at the toppings with the mustard and ketchup cannons on his arms. Nico just watches, letting Emu do whatever it is he has planned.

As the parts came together, a burger lands in Burgermon’s hand.

Game Clear!

“That means you’re cured, Tsukuru!” Poppy cheered, though it was quickly cut off by slow, ominous clapping.

“Quite a show,” Kuroto said, “I like your little words of encouragement.” He halts his clapping. This time, he’s joined by Ex-Aid.

Tsukuru looks at Ex-Aid and gasps, “Mu? What are you doing with him?” Emu paused at that. Mu? Like Masamune’s assistant? The one that was dead? Or at least, they thought he was dead.

Ex-Aid, rather, Mu, startles and looks at him, “Oh, Mr. Tsukuru…” he mumbled, then tugs at Kuroto’s sleeve, “Kuroto, why are we still here? Mr. Tsukuru’s been cured?”

Kuroto just smiled, “I have a bootleg game to destroy,”

Mu clearly frowned, “Ju Ju Burger? Or do you mean…?” Then he gasped, “Kuroto! You can’t kill Burgermon! He’s harmless!”

“He’s from an illegal game, Mu,” Kuroto says, “I can’t just have those running around.”

“Are you serious?” Mu huffed, “Mr. Tsukuru works at Gemn Corp, what more could you ask for?”

Kuroto ignores him and takes out the Dangerous Zombie Gashat. Nico quickly grabs Jet Combat, finally leveling up. Nico and Emu quickly run to stop Kuroto’s attacks. Mu doesn’t transform, instead watching for a moment as Kuroto, Nico, and Emu fight. Finally, he walks over to where Poppy, Saki, Tsukuru, and Burgermon stand.

Saki and Poppy place themselves between Mu and Tsukuru and Burgermon. With an almost hurt expression, Mu says emotionlessly, “I’m sorry,” He’s looking at both Burgermon and Tsukuru, ignoring Poppy and Saki. “Kuroto’s made up his mind. I’m not sure anyone can stop him now.”

Tsukuru gently pushes past Saki and Poppy, “Why do you work with him, Mu?”

Mu looks away, “When I found out you were infected, I was so worried. Now you’re cured and it’s clear that Burgermon is important to you but…” He had a pained expression, “I’m sorry, I just. I have to complete the game, so these sort of things don’t happen again. Alright? I’m sorry, but this is something I need to do. You’ll understand soon, I’m just… Not allowed to talk much about it.”

Quietly, Poppy asked, “Not allowed by who? Kuroto?”

“You’ll find out soon, when the game is completed, I’m sure,” He looks a bit… worried, though it’s unclear why. Then he reaches into his pocket, hesitating for a moment. Saki and Poppy were clearly put on edge by that action. He pulled out his Gamer Driver and two Gashats, the Proto Mighty Action X and Proto Drago Knight Hunter Z Gashat. He turns to face towards where Nico and Emu were still fighting Kuroto, struggling to keep up.

Mighty Action X!

Drago Knight Hunter Z!

Do-Do-Drago Kni-Kni-Kni-Knight! Dra! Dra! Drago Knight Hunter! Z!

Saki, Poppy, Tsukuru, and Burgermon watch for a moment, as Mu just stares at the fight. As Gemn knocks Emu and Nico down, the Ju Ju Burger Gashat clattering to the ground, Mu runs up to Kuroto.

“Come on, Kuroto! Stop it! This is unnecessary.” Emu can’t help but think that Mu sounded familiar. He’s thought that a few times before, but he wasn’t sure why.

“Why are you so insistent in sparing that bootleg Bugster?”

“Because he hasn’t done anything wrong! Because I don’t want to see Tsukuru hurt! Because your reasoning is stupid!” Mu continues to tug at Kuroto’s arm.

Kuroto shakes him off and turns his attention towards Burgermon and Tsukuru, and by proxy, Poppy and Nico.

Critical Dead!

Mu gasped and lunges forward, using Hunter Gamer’s tail to knock Saki and Poppy away. Annoyingly, Tsukuru and Burgermon were just a little too far. Yet before the Critical Dead could reach them, Burgermon rushes forward and takes the hit entirely.

Stalking over to where Emu was, Kuroto picks up the Ju Ju Burger Gashat. “Come on, Ex-Aid, we’re done here.”

Mu just stares as Kuroto walked off. Stunned, he removed the two Gashats from his Gamer Driver. He stands there, for a moment, before glancing back and Tsukuru and quietly repeating, “I’m sorry,” Then runs off after Kuroto.

---

Back at their hideout, Mu just sits on the couch, his arms crossed as he glared at Kuroto. He doesn’t say anything, just glare. Kuroto types at his computer for a moment, then sighs. Standing up, he walks over to the couch and hands Mu the Ju Ju Burger Gashat.

“What?”

“Take it,” Kuroto held it closer, “It won’t do me any good. I don’t care what you do with it.”

“But… why?” Mu couldn’t understand. Mu couldn’t understand a lot recently.

Kuroto just shakes his head, “Burgermon had to be gotten rid of, but the Gashat doesn’t really matter,” He walks back over to his desk. “Now I’m going to figure out what’s wrong with your Gashat.”

---

Mu wasn’t supposed to be at Gemn Corp right now, he knew he wasn’t, but he just. He had something he needed to do. He still felt bad about what had happened earlier.

He peeks into the office that Tsukuru worked in, seeing an nearly empty room, save for Tsukuru who quietly and slowly typed at his keyboard.

“Um, Mr. Tsukuru?” He called out, watching as Tsukuru looked up at him, “Um… I know you probably don’t… want to see me. But, um, I have something for you.”

Reaching into his pocket, Mu enters the room and holds out the Ju Ju Burger Gashat, keeping a distance as he hands it to Tsukuru. Tsukuru takes it, giving him a confused look. “Why?” He asked.

“We don’t need it,” Mu answered, “It’s not important for the game, so I think you should have it.”

Tsukuru looked at the Gashat, then back at Mu, “I see, thank you.”

Wasting no time in leaving, Mu quickly returns to his and Kuroto’s hideout, not wanting anyone else to see that he’d been at Gemn Corp. When he gets back, he can hear Kuroto talking, “Yes,” He sighed, “I understand.” He must have been on the phone.

As Mu quietly enters the room, it becomes clear that Kuroto had just finished his phone call. Immediately, Mu can tell that something’s wrong.

“Is something wrong?” Mu asked, catching Kuroto’s attention.

Kuroto shakes his head, “No, no, I’m fine,” though it’s not entirely convincing, Mu doesn’t ask farther.

It’s really not his business.

[zer0pm]

Imagine V’s book getting damaged beyond repair after a battle. You, driven by your secret affection for him, mend it good as new.

Based on @pop-vicky-love’s wonderful ask (thanks again Victoria :D):

.

.

.

The trailer comes to a sudden halt. And by halt, you mean crash landing as it comes busting in through several floors of an abandoned building before hitting solid ground. When you recovered, you glanced out the window to see V already waiting by the payphone he must have used to contact you. Nico greeted the tattooed man as he entered the vehicle.

Nico: “Help has arrived. Got any cash?”

V simply nodded to her before reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a pouch that jingled with what you assume to be a generous amount of red orbs. He tosses it at the weaponsmith who catches it eagerly before zipping on over to her workstation. Already you were hearing drills and tinkering going off in there as you sat at the little table in between the juke box and the driver seat. You, on the other hand, were working on your next project.

V: “What are you working on?”

The man took a seat across from you, he spares a glance over at your work before meeting your eyes in greeting. You quickly bow your head low when you saw his green eyes, a slight blush forming at your cheeks. You were always nervous around the man. Not because he frightened you, but because...well, you were attracted to him. Yet unlike the the rest of the Devil May Cry crew who were all rather upfront with whatever thoughts come to mind, you were rather shy. You didn’t speak much to the others unless needed to and with V, you were a nervous wreck. It got better as time went on. Luckily so far with as long as you’ve gotten to know him, he doesn’t seem to have noticed or at least has not called you out whenever you stumbled over your words or refused to make long eye contact with him. It brought you much relief, really, as it allowed you to secretly relish in being in his presence despite the pounding in your heart at being so physically close to him.

You: “You’re gonna think it’s silly.”

V: “Silly? Why do you say that?”

You: “W-Well...”

You lift your hand to reveal the tool you held. It looked like a makeshift fine-tipped pen. The man eyes it curiously then watches you as you carefully pull out another object from beneath the table. At the sight of it, his eyes widened, a complete contrast to his resting stoic expression.

It was V’s book, his hard-covered collection of poems that he’s so fond of. It was usually found on his person but...

V: “I had thought it was beyond saving in my battle against the Geryon Knight. Torn to shreds before my very eyes.”

You: “Yeah... I found the pieces while helping Nico and Lady clear the roads. I saved what I could, but much of it I remade. Just about finishing up the last details.”

With the tool, you etched onto the hard cover to bring out the newly fine design on the book. Carefully blowing aside the excess, you lift it and was satisfied. It looked exactly the same as before only good as new and offered it to V. You can only hope that it lived to his standards, nervous to see his reaction to what you did to the inside.

He carefully takes the book from your hands, cracking it open and listening to the satisfying break of the spine and the turn of the pages. It sounded new. The man worked through some of the pieces, familiarizing himself with the words. His eyes linger on a few pages here and there.

V: “These illustrations, I do not recall some of them.”

You: “O-Oh! Yeah. I saw that some of the poems have them and thought others might too. So I tried to... I-I’m sorry. I can fix that!”

Believing you may have offended the man, you try to mend your “mistake”. At the sight of you trying to retrieve his book, he pulls it out of your reach.

V: “No need. This is better. I had no idea that you were an artist of other trades and an admirer of Blake as well. The style is almost exact to the original. Impressive.”

You: “You think so?”

V: “Yes. Even the penmanship can be mistaken for the print. It is like I have never lost it.”

You did not miss the way his eyes glazed over in appreciation of your work and your heart nearly skipped a beat when he looked up from the pages to meet your eyes.

V: “With this, you have proven to me that what is ripped apart can be mended together again. And become greater than they were before.”

There was a spark in his eyes when he said this and it was a moment where you wished you knew exactly what was on his mind. Still, you would dare to say that V looked...hopeful. For what, you were not sure but you felt elation that he was pleased with your work.

V: “What compelled you to do this for me? I do not believe I have done anything that would merit your kindness.”

At this, you looked down at your folded hands on your lap. You were not sure how to answer this and didn’t want to sound like a fool.

You: “I just...thought it would be a n-nice gesture. E-Everyone seems so wary of you sometimes but I...I-I...”

V: “You...?”

You: “I think you’re a good person, V. The others might not see it, but throughout this whole mission, you’ve done nothing but look out for us. You saved Nico and me once in one of her famous entrances.”

The man chuckles at the memory and your heart skipped a beat at the wonderful sound.

You: “You’re really caring. In your own way. So...”

Your eyes sneak over at the book in his hands.

You: “I wanted to show that I care too...”

Embarrassment was burning at your cheeks, the instinct to hide was so strong within you. You couldn’t believe that you admitted to something so cheesy, but it was the words that came straight from the heart that climbed to your mind and surfaced to your lips. There was a growing panic within you when you realized that it had gone quiet between you two and was terrified that your words may have spooked him. Perhaps he thought you were being a delusional creep. An apology was at the edge of your tongue when your hear a low hum purr in his throat.

V: “Do I care? I’ve never asked myself this question before.”

He places the book down on the table, keeping his palm flat on the cover. The ends of his lips tug into a soft smile on his handsome face. His forest green gaze slowly sliding over all the features of your face before locking onto your eyes.

V: “But now... I believe I’ve found my answer.”

[mikkomacko]

New Year’s Resolution

Nico Hischier x reader

Warnings: smut, a bit of a daddy/breeding kink

Part 2

~

Babbling and stumbling, Nico shoulders his way back from the bar and towards you. The silver beads around his neck sway as he messily approaches the tall table you’re perched at, the drinks in his hands tittering towards the edge of the glass.

You bite back a laugh as he continues to chatter to himself about god knows what, any words made unintelligible by alcohol and the music in the club. Digging a lip gloss out of your purse, you hide your giggle with the glittery tube as you apply a coat.

Nico presses himself up close to you, chest against your shoulder as he slides your rum and coke towards you. You tuck the lipgloss away again, tilting your chin up towards Nico as he takes a swig of his beer.

His gaze settles on you, eyes zoning in on your glossy smile and you watch his already dark eyes grow even more black.

“Pretty,” he mumbles, dipping his fingers into your hair, “I love having a pretty girl.”

Heat floods your cheeks and you purse your lips to keep from giggling. Nico always gets a sweet tongue when he drinks so you don’t shy away from his loving look at bars anymore but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still fluster you.

“Thank you,” you say, holding his gaze as you sip the drink from the little black stirring straw. Nico blinks slowly, licking his own lips at the sight of your puckered ones. “For my drink and for being sweet.”

His already flushed cheeks turn a shade darker, dimples sinking into them as he grins. You’ve barely placed the rum and coke back on the table when he leans down to kiss you, his fingertips pressing into your scalp. You grab his bicep, steadying yourself because Nico drunk and in love is a force to be reckoned with.

He dips his tongue into your mouth, wrapping his other arm around your middle and drawing you up to him. The fresh beer bottle presses into your side, ice cold glass on your skin that makes you shiver and fold into the warmth of Nico’s chest even more.

“Schao!”

Nico reels back from you, lips red and wet as he looks behind you for whichever teammate called his name. You settle back into your seat, still holding tight to Nico’s arm as you haphazardly wipe away any smears of lipgloss around your mouth.

You don’t hear whatever Jack shouts to Nico but your boyfriend does, nodding along as he sweeps his finger through your hair. Absentmindedly, he twirls his finger around a strand, playing with it and you take another drink from your sweating glass, trying not to smile too widely at the sweet man standing over you.

“M’gonna play pool with Jack,” Nico addresses you, tugging playfully on the strand of hair he’s been fiddling with. “Come watch?”

You nod, collecting your purse and drink. You nudge Nico back so you can stand up but he doesn’t budge, smirking down at you and drinking his beer. Rolling your eyes, you climb to your feet and come chest to chest with him. He smells like cologne and the bar, the yeasty scent of his beer flooding your nose. You must make a face because he laughs, placing a hand on your back and moving to guide you towards the rows of booths in the back.

Jack is awaiting your boyfriend impatiently, tapping his foot like a child with a pool stick in each hand. You squeeze by him, meeting his pointed gaze with an innocent batting of your eyelashes.

You find a seat with Bratter and his girlfriend, smiling as the two greet you as if you hadn’t seen them earlier in the night. Nico is pulling at your purse on your shoulder, tugging the bag down your arm. Glancing over, you find him digging through the main pocket until he finds a stick of gum. Dramatically, he pops the gum into his mouth with an amused smile before handing your purse back.

Laughing, you set it in the booth next to you, turning back to your conversation. Nico kisses the top of your head before he goes, finally joining his alternate for a match against Timo and Luke.

You keep chatting for a bit, sipping your drink and occasionally checking on Nico. The club is starting to get more packed in the general floor area and you realize midnight is quickly approaching so you and a few others head to the photo booth before it gets too hectic. A Happy New Year headband is distributed to you as well as blowers and poppers. Bratter finds a top hat and Nicole glasses.

Peace signs and funny faces, kisses to the cheeks of Bratter and you hugging Nicole with him pouting behind you, the camera flashes and flashes. You’re taking the last photo of you and Nicole downing your drinks with arms intertwined when your boyfriend sneaks up.

Him and Bratt catch you two at the last second, arms snaking around your waist and lifting you into air with a shocked laugh as the flash goes off. It almost looks like the two boys planned it but you’d imagine it’s just whatever telepathic co-dependence they’ve acquired over the years of playing together.

Nico smells of mint when you turn and sling your arms around his neck, the gum he swiped earlier smacking obnoxiously as he smiles. He’s drunker than he was before his game of pool and judging by the wet spot on the collar of his shirt he had to pay the price of losing with a shot.

“You’re druuuunk,” you tease, slipping your fingers under the edge of his beanie.

“So are you.” He responds, voice heavy and thick with his accent. You laugh, the last bit of your third drink of the night making you feel a little loopy and light. Fiddling with the short edges of his recently trimmed hair, you nudge him backwards until you’re out of the way of photos.

Nico finds your mouth, the hand that had been on your waist slipping down to fit into the back of pocket of your leather pants. Heat creeps up your neck, fueled by the stirring in your belly as Nico’s large hand palms at you.

“Come down Neeksy, it’s not midnight yet.”

Siegs shoves at Nico’s shoulder, jolting you two apart and Nico looks over at him with annoyance. You two separate enough for him and Nico to start chatting in Swiss-German, something you’re still struggling to understand when you’re sober let alone drunk so you tune out.

Hugging Nico’s arm, you peer up at him with big moony eyes. He’s so handsome with his kiss bitten lips, that stupid piece of gum still visible with every laugh. His voice sends pleasant chills down your spine, his words deep and sloppy from drinking. But most of all, he looks happy. Yeah he’s got that drunk, cocky swagger that comes with almost every attractive NHL player but he’s still himself. Giggling and talkative, eyes dark and lidded but still welcoming.

You watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, how shiny his neck is with sweat and you can almost picture the shimmer you know rests on his chest and collarbones and everything beneath his clothes. Suddenly you want to forget all about midnight in favor of taking Nico home.

By the time Nola is drawing you into a conversation you’re about to be a puddle on the floor.

“Hm?” You hum, blinking out of your daze and meeting Nola’s gaze. She laughs though you know by the teasing look in her eyes that she can see right through you.

“What’s your resolution for the year?”

Nico and Siegs focus in on you now, awaiting your answer and while you wish you had something good to say, you’ve never been a resolution person.

“Oh I don’t have one. I can make changes and goals whenever I want, I don’t need a new month to do that.”

Unsurprised by your answer, Nico just laughs but the other two scoff and complain, listing off the pros of doing a January reset.

“Mine is to drink more water,” Nola says and you applaud her even if you think it’s a bit dumb to only start doing that because of a new year. “And mine is to stop drinking alcohol.” Siegs adds, lifting up his glass of water as if proving his success already.

“What about you Nico?”

Nola’s question makes him stop and think, which you weren’t expecting because Nico has the same views about resolutions as you do. But his eyes twinkle with excitement and something you don’t recognize as he shrugs, looking from you to his friends.

“Not sure yet, gotta think about it.”

Siegs ribs him for not being prepared but Nico takes it all in good fun. You ponder that look in his eye, curious as to what he’s up to because you know he does and says everything with intention.

“Come on baby,” Nico pulls you from your thoughts. “S’almost midnight.” All the Devils and friends cluster together in the middle of the vip section, Timo and Jack now standing on the pool tables and you cringe, knowing they’ll be paying to reupholster that later.

Guiding you by the hand, you think Nico is leading you towards the others but he simply drops off the empty drink glasses at a messy booth table before tugging along to the back room. It’s quiet and cold compared to the rest of the bar, and you crowd into his back to maintain some sort of warmth.

Nico finds his way into the single use bathroom, nudging you in before himself and then kicking the door shut. You barely catch the sound of the lock before he’s taking hold of your face. Warm hands squish your cheeks together, puckering your lips and he giggles cutely.

“Know what I want for my birthday,” he says after moment of just looking at you, words still slurred but more serious than he’s been all night. You’re tempted to tease him that new years comes first but you know how much he hates having a birthday close to a holiday so you stay quiet. Rather than answer, you wrap your fingers around his biceps reassuringly and raise a questioning eyebrow.

He hesitates, sweeping his gaze over your face as he gnaws on his bottom lip. It’s not until he meets your eyes does he speak. “I want a baby.”

It’s not news to you, his wish. You’ve had the marriage talk, the baby talk, the everything talk. And you both decided that the whole white picket fence in a large house with children and a dog is in the cards. But a time limit was never mentioned, instead both opting for a feeling it out vibe.

You suppose Nico is feeling like he wants to be a father. And that, you realize is what was twinkling in his gaze before. It was unknown to you because this is uncharted territory, being parents. Maybe it’s a similar glint he gets on the ice when he’s in charge of the team, when he’s ready to step up.

“I can’t have a baby in four days,” you say because you need time to think. Could you guys do this? Are you ready to do this? To change your life and your body forever?

Nico doesn’t laugh, he doesn’t even smile. His eyebrows pinch together, his thumb beginning to stroke over your cheek.

“M’serious,” he grumbles “I’m ready. To do this. With you.”

You soften, frowning at the annoyance and hurt in his gaze. Of course you knew he was serious, he doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean but you didn’t realize just how serious he was. You wonder how long he’s been thinking about this.

“I know baby,” you soothe, “sorry I know. I just-what if we’re just drunk and horny?”

He lightens up a bit, the pinch of his forehead smoothing out. “I am drunk. And horny,” he confesses with a small laugh. “But I’ll still want this tomorrow when I’m hungover and mad and again when I’m sober and tired.”

A while, you decide. He’s been thinking about this for a while. There’s no way he hasn’t been and judging by his confidence, he’s got it all figured out in his head. The timing, the money, the change it would bring to both of your lives. He’s prepared to do this with you.

And how could you say no? Of course you want children with him. How could you not? He’s the most perfect man you’ve ever met and by the way he wrangles hockey boys you know he’ll be a perfect father.

“Ok,” you agree. “I’m ready if you are.”

It’s like a weight has lifted off him, his whole body relaxing and his lips twitch into a smile. You laugh, running your hands up and around to his neck. Drawing him closer, you tip toe until his mouth meets yours.

“Sure?”

“Yes.”

“100%?” He presses, running his nose along the side of yours.

“Yes.” You breathe against his wet lips. “I want to have your baby Nico.”

His chest rumbles with a suppressed groan, Nico’s eyes squeezing shut and nose scrunching in both pain and pleasure. You giggle, kissing at his chin and jaw as you paw at his shoulders.

Outside, the muffled cheers of the minute countdown reach your ears.

“You know, they say whatever you’re doing at midnight is what you’ll be doing for the rest of the year?”

Eyelashes fluttering, Nico blinks open his dark eyes to peer down at you. “Gets those pants off then. I wanna be between your thighs.”

Sloppy and hastily, you yank your boots and jeans off as Nico tugs at his belt. His drunk fingers fumble and by the time he’s got it off and unzipped his jeans you’re removing the beanie from his hair and tossing it to the side. You yank at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours and bite at his collarbones. He lets you manhandle him for a second, pulling the shirt over his head himself before he’s dipping a hand into his boxers, maneuvering them enough to get his hard cock out.

Giddily, you jump at him so he can lift you up around his waist, your feet locking above his ass. You wrap your arms around his neck, needing something sturdy to hold onto. Stroking through his hair, Nico manages to push your underwear to the side, enough for him to line up the swollen tip of his cock with your entrance.

You moan softly, shifting your hips lower to pull him in even more and Nico takes that as his sign to drop you down onto his cock fully. You gasp for a breath, squirming as his thickness stretches you open. Whistles and cheers sound throughout the bathroom, the celebration in the bar echoing into you both and Nico laughs softly, pressing his lips to your cheek.

“Happy New Year sweetheart.” He tells you, his fingers rubbing circles into your lower back.

You smile, smooching a wet kiss to his lips. “Happy New Year baby,” you mumble, sneaking your tongue into his mouth. He moans, chasing your kiss with his own tongue and grabs your ass with both hands.

Slow and steady, he moves you up and down on his cock, leaning backwards until his shoulders rest on the wall behind him. You have no idea how he’s capable of holding you like this, moving you in his large hands but it makes your stomach tighten in pleasure and you clench down around him.

“Fuck,” he mutters, panting heavily. You whimper, dropping your mouth to the side of his neck as his cock brushes that velvety spot inside. “So good baby, gonna make me a daddy?”

Clinging to his shoulders, you nod pathetically. “Yes Nico, gonna make you a daddy. Please let me make you a daddy.”

His mouth finds yours again, flipping himself around so he can press you into the wall. His thrust grow quick and strong, fucking up into you like a man starved. Your brain goes fuzzy under the haze of him kissing you silly and driving his cock into you. He takes short shallow breathes, pulling away to mumble drunken nonsense about filling you up, about having you on his cock all night long until you’re swollen with his baby.

It’s frantic and hot, a new side of him you’ve never seen before and it has your orgasm rising quickly. Whatever breeding, baby-obsessed persona that has taken over him is driving you wild and you’re practically sobbing into his chest when you reach your peak. You bare down on him, thighs straining and burning as you work with him to stretch out your own orgasm and help him reach his.

When Nico does come it’s instant and strong, his hold on you tightening as his cock twitches and his orgasm burst from him. He mewls and groans, his voice cracking as he whimpers and you encourage him with soft fingers through his hair.

“That’s it Nico,” you murmur, your own voice rough and scratchy. “That’s it baby, let me have it all.”

Your toes tingle and you’re unsure if it’s your fading high, the alcohol, or how tightly Nico has you pinned but you don’t care. You fight off every tired muscles, every burning limb and just hold him. He buries his face in your neck, hot breathes making your skin sticky as he takes a few shallow ruts of his hips into you.

By the way he hisses and shivers you know he’s feeling the sharp stings of his oversensitive cock, yet he still knocks his hips into yours. You don’t think it’ll actually do anything more, him torturing himself by trying to fuck his come deeper into you but you don’t complain, instead enjoying the aftershocks of your own high.

Finally, he settles, still buried to the hilt but holding still. You give him a moment to breathe, to ground himself again before encouraging him to look at you with a soft tug on his hair.

Hooded black eyes finds yours, his cheeks red and sweaty with long strands of hair stuck to his forehead. You brush them back, cupping his stubbled jaw in your palm.

“If we planned this better you could’ve been fucking me in our bed.” You say quietly, a small smile rising on your lips.

Nico blinks sluggishly, fucked out as he hums his disagreement. “I like this better. ‘Sides, it was the beer that made me ask you.”

You kiss him softly, stroking his cheek. “Really?”

He nods. “Yeah, and the boys. Everyone kept asking me for a resolution and what I want this year and yeah. I decided I should just do it now, as my resolution or whatever.”

Tilting your head in confusion, you wonder what his plan had been before tonight. How long he would’ve waited to tell you that he was ready. But right now isn’t the time to quiz him, not when you need to get cleaned up and rejoin the party outside.

“I like this resolution,” you answer. “Think I’m gonna steal it.”

He laughs, nuzzling into your hand and closing his eyes in exhaustion

“M’tired but I don’t want to put you down.” He mutters. “Don’t want to pull out yet either.”

Shaking your head in amusement, you admire him for a moment. His long eyelashes, his thick eyebrows and perfectly curved nose and he’s pretty pink lips.

“We can do it again at home,” you promise “think it might take a few tries anyway baby.”

He grumbles, scrunching his nose. “No I think I did it now,” he argues “but I still want to do it again at home. And on my birthday.”

This time you do laugh, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, as you mentally piece together a plan for getting the both of you dressed and into an Uber home.

The hardest part, you decide, will be getting away from the team without them bugging about where you disappeared too.

And you were right, because as soon as you and Nico return fully clothed and put back together again he’s loose lipped and cocky. You’re hurrying to gather your purse and coat when Timo ribs him for not popping champagne with them and Nico proudly puffs his chest out, wrapping his arms around you lifting you into the air like a prize.

“I was too busy popping one into my girl,” he says casually. “M’gonna be a dad this year!”

Mortified and blushing, you kick Nico’s shins until he puts you down as Timo and everyone hoots and hollers. You spin to face your drunk boyfriend, smacking at his chest but you can’t even be mad when you see the innocent glee in his eyes, the sweet smile he gives you like you’re the greatest gift in the world.

“Nico,” you whine, unsure of what to even say. He doesn’t catch the hint, slinging his arm around you and pulling you into his chest. That sweet tongue of his murmurs into your ear how much he loves you, how excited he is to have a pretty baby to go along with his pretty girl. And you melt into it, cheeks red as you hide in his shoulder.

“Cap,” Holtz says, shaking his head as he smack Nico’s shoulder. “Starting the year off with a bang huh?”

You burrow further into him, embarrassed as he laughs and laughs.

The only solace is knowing that you’ll get to remind him of his big mouth tomorrow morning.

[lonelypond]

Surprise PARTAY!!! In The (Idol) House

Nico Maki, Love Live, 4K, 1/1

SUMMARY: Everyone has a plan for Nishikino Maki's birthday. Which one is the winner?

SURPRISE PARTAY!!! IN THE IDOL HOUSE

TWO NIGHTS BEFORE NISHIKINO MAKI'S BIRTHDAY

Hoshizora Rin flumped, hanging her upper torso down off the bed she and Koizumi Hanayo were sharing to watch the latest installment of Idol House.

“ ‘S weird, Kayo-chin, we were talking about all this with Maki two weeks ago and now it’s on TV.” Rin did an ab curl.

“Having only a two week delay is HUGE." Hanayo's eyes gleamed behind her glasses. She loved talking Idol House. "Nico worked so hard for the initial set up, to make everything go smoothly. She originally pushed for one week, but there was no way editing and song rights could have happened.”

Rin giggled. “It’s like Maki’s in soooper slow motion.” 

Rin bounced a leg impatiently, Hanayo leaned down to pull her up, “Come on, it’s coming back. Maybe we’ll see Maki.”

But no, they cut to a conversation in one of the three girl’s bedroom, Kawano Aki talking to Bokeh Blossom guitarist Harada Mai, who had switched rooms with Yazawa Nico after Kawano confessed her crush on Muse’s tiny tempest.

Aki was lying prone in the bottom bunk, dressed in sweats, her arms wrapped around her favorite huge purple plushie. Fluffy bathrobe pulled around her, Mai was sipping from a mug of herbal tea in the padded, circular seat catercorner to the bunks.

“They fight all the time, Mai-chan. Maki-chan…”

“Maki-chan?” RIn and Mai spoke at the same time, Rin sitting up, suspicious.

Aki shrugged and blushed, “She is awfully cute. And it’s no wonder she’s grumpy. Nico leaves her down in the recording studio alone for half the night. Just yesterday, I heard Nico shouting at Maki-chan that she needed to put a better effort into Shizu-chan’s new song. And why is Shizu-chan getting Muse’s composer to work on her solo?”

Mai shook her head, “Maybe she didn’t tell Japan about her crush on the composer’s fiancee?”

AKi frowned, “Shizu-chan has a crush on Nico? Well, Nico’s being so nice to her…”

“No, Aki-san, I meant you.” Mai quietly correcting.

Aki shook herself, disgruntled, pounded the plushie a little, and shifted so she was sitting cross legged on the bed, “Well, I don’t think Nico’s so nice anymore. Maki’s probably used to being fussed over and instead of fancy takeout or bentos, Nico just leaves these...dented soup thermoses full of curry or something and disappears. Maki-chan’s probably used to expensive restaurants. Her parents own a hospital, they're super rich, it’s why they didn’t want her on the show.”

“Really?” Mai seemed surprised.

“Yeah, I looked her up on a Muse fansite.”

Hanayo and Rin held hands for comfort, “Maki’s not going to like this.”

“Nico’s going to hate this.” Hanayo sighed.

“The site said Maki-chan’s birthday’s coming up. I think we should throw her a party.” Aki put the plushie aside, “Shizu-chan suggested it because Maki’s been so helpful.”

“Nope.” Rin shouted, waving a fist at the screen. “You’re lying, Aki-san.”

Mai took another sip. “That could be fun. Have you talked to Nico?”

Aki pouted. “She’s too busy. She’s got that sakura shoot in Kyoto.”

“I bet Nico has already made plans.”

“From what I heard it didn’t sound like it.” Aki slid closer, whispering.

“What did you hear?” Mai put her mug down and leaned forward. 

TWO WEEKS AGO

Maki was sitting behind her keyboards, headphones on, eyes closed as she concentrated. Nico paused in the door for a moment, jacket over her arm, to enjoy the sight of Maki totally absorbed in music, luxurious eyelashes fluttering, luscious lips mouthing lyrics. Nico missed that voice, she was sorry she didn’t have more time to spend here with Maki working on music, but if Nico was going to really launch her solo careeer in two and half months, she had a lot of miles and hours to put in. Plus, Maki was so relaxed here, in the recording studio, with the best equipment, able to move more than she had cramped up in her room with a laptop and midi synth, hiding her habits from her parents. After a few minutes, and Maki's luscious lips mouthing lyrics Nico didn't know, Nico couldn’t watch anymore, and just decided it was time to slide her arms around her talented, gorgeous, spaced out fiancée. But Nico had forgotten just how spaced out Maki could get when she was working out a problem, so when Nico’s hands slid over Maki’s, Maki screamed and jumped, Nico reflexively holding onto the chair so Maki didn’t tilt onto the floor.

“Nico-chan?!!!!???" Maki's voice trembled,  "What are you doing, why did you, that was….”

“I’m sorry, Maki, I thought you saw me…”

Maki snapped, “I wasn’t expecting a ninja stalker.”

Nico grinned, “Nico did look dangerously hot in that ninja photoshoot back then.”

Maki reached for the power cord that had been pulled out of the computer, “The only thing you’re a danger to is electronic devices.”

“Hey, you’re the one who nearly knocked the laptop over. Don’t blame Nico.”

“I almost had it, Nico...you know how I work, why did you interrupt me?" Maki scowled, "I’m doing this for your stupid show.” 

“It’s not a stupid show,” Nico turned to the camera, glitter smiled and did her signature move, “Nico Nico Ni, you know how important it is for people to see the real work Idols put in. Too many people think we’re silly airheads.”

“I WAS working and you…” Maki had her headset in one hand, gesturing with it, “Can I get back now, before I totally lose the counterpoint.”

Nico sighed and shrugged, “Sure. Nico is sorry she scared you.”

Maki’s voice was almost a shout, “I wasn’t scared.”

Nico fluttered her eyelashes alluringly, “Nico just wanted to see if you wanted an escort home.”

Maki put the headphones around her neck, leaned over the table, glancing at the clock on the laptop, “Nah, I’m going be up for a couple of hours to finish this. And I’ll sleep on the couch down here.”

“You could come up to Nico’s room.”

“I thought we agreed that wasn’t a good idea.”

Aki had been standing outside the door, waiting for a moment to break into the conversation. As soon as she pushed the door open, Nico’s head swivelled, ruby eyes narrowing. Then Nico relaxed, “Hi, Aki. Did you need Nico?”

Aki toyed with her ponytail, “I didn’t know you were here, Nico.”

Maki snorted and leaned into her hand, elbow propped next to her laptop, laser focused on the distance Nico was keeping from her former bunkmate.

“Nico is ninja tonight.” Nico glanced back to stick out her tongue at Maki, who rolled her eyes.

“I was wondering if Maki-chan wanted a snack.”

Maki saw irritation flash across Nico’s face and didn’t know why, but when Nico answered Aki, there was only the slightest whip of sarcasm as Nico began, “Maki-CHAN is fine. Nico is taking care of her. But it’s so late, Aki. And Nico’s been telling you that there’s nothing better for an idol’s skin than 8 hours of sleep.”

Maki wondered when the last time Nico had slept for that long.

Nico put a weighted arm around Aki’s shoulder and hurried her to the door, “Why don’t you try the cucumber mask Nico showed you the other night? Nico will check later to make sure you placed the cucumbers right.”

“Thanks, Nico-chan.”

“Nico Nico no problem.” Nico flashed her hand gesture, shut the door solidly, turned the lock and faced Maki, leaning casually back, “Nico misses you.”

“I’m sure the centimeter Kawano-san’s skirts lose everyday soothes you.”

“Nico doesn’t notice.”

Maki glared at Nico as she dropped back into her chair.

Nico pushed off the door and ran a hand through her hair, “Nico doesn’t care.”

“I do.”

Nico was behind the chair again, her mouth close to Maki’s ear, “Can we try this again?”

After a hesitation, Maki nodded.

Nico slid her hands down Maki’s arms, squeezing Maki’s hands before pullling the composer into a hug, “I missed you. I’m sorry I have to leave before breakfast.”

“Oh..is that…”

“Kyoto.”

Maki’s forehead hit the keyboard, “This April sucks.”

“Nico will make it up to you.”

Maki slid the headphones up, surprising Nico with a smile, “I know it’s important. And I love you.”

“Thanks.” Nico leaned against the table, staring into the tempting warmth of Maki’s eyes as she took Maki’s left hand, running her fingers over the stones of the engagment ring. “Once Nico gets everything set up, we’ll have more time together.”

“Good.”

“Come upstairs and snuggle.”

Maki blushed and shook her head. Three in a room was not a thrill or a draw for Maki.

“Okay, Nico will stay here for awhile.” Nico pulled her shirt out of her skirt, pulled up her knees after she sat, and wrapped a throw around herself.

“Listen to this for me, Nico-chan.” Maki moved a lever and the speakers came on.

“Any time.” Nico would sit on nails, glass, and lava for the brilliant gleam in those sharp, amethyst eyes. Maki’s daredevil grin brightening all of Tokyo when Nico was all in on Maki was a more enticing show than anything Nico had ever imagined.

 ONE WEEK AGO

All of the residents agreed that one of the coolest things about Idol House was that it was also Muse House, with Nico living there, Hanayo helping with social media, Umi leading workouts, long distance dance tips from Eli, Maki in the basement, Kotori dropping off clothing samples, Rin leading a dawn run three times a week, Nozomi dropping by via virtual hangout to gossip and to give insights from her cards, and possibly everyone’s favorite perq, Honoka sweeping through occasionally with an encouraging smile and a week’s worth of desserts from Homura. Today was drop off day and Honoka popped in, glad to be away from the bakery for an afternoon.

“Honoka-chan!” Aki had been waiting in the kitchen, taking Hanayo's advice and making supportive comments on fellow house members TWIG posts, although she ignored Nico’s posts from Kyoto. Three weeks, two guest spots, several photoshoots. Aki didn’t know what Nico’s trick to success was, but she was determined to at least get a Nishikino Maki tune of her own, if not Nishikino Maki.

“Aki-chan! You look cute today!” Honoka put down the stack of boxes with a sigh of relief.

“Let me get you a juice.”

“Thanks!” Honoka sat at the table, glad to have someone getting her a cold drink instead of fussing at her like her mom did.

“So did you hear about Maki’s birthday party?” Aki asked over her shoulder.

Honoka tilted her head, puzzled. She knew Nico had planned a surprise Muse get together and Rin and Hanayo were going to take Maki out to dinner and bring her to the restaurant they'd all decided on since Nico had to nearly hit hyperspeed to get back to Tokyo in time. “Yeah, Maki’ll be surprised.”

Aki took a deep breath, “You know we’re having it here, right, the night before so we can all watch the broadcast together.”

“But RIn and Hanayo were…” Honoka scratched her head.

“Oh, Rin went and told Maki…”

Honoka snorted, “And Nico thought I was going to be the one spoiling the surprise. I can keep a secret.”

“I knew I could count on you." Aki patted Honoka's hand, "Muse really benefited from your leadership.”

Honoka reached into the box she’d placed on the table and pulled out a daifuku, “Nah, we decided not to have a leader. Or Eli would have been if she’d joined earlier.”

Aki opened another box, “Ooh, sakura mochi. Thanks, Honoka-chan, you’re the sweetest.”

“Better eat them before Nico gets back. She never admits to having a sweet tooth, but Maki says she can never find a dessert after…” Honoka froze, suddenly remembering she was in a house full of cameras and Umi’s lectures on not revealing private details ever, but especially when visiting Idol House, especially about Nico, because EVERYONE wanted to know things about off camera, behind the scenes Nico.

“Are you making the birthday cake?”

“Me and Kotori always make the cakes.”

“That’s so sweet. I hope I find people who help me like you help each other.”

Honoka finished her bun, debating whether she wanted another or just the juice. “Well, now you know us.”

“That’s the most amazing…” Aki hugged herself, it really was amazing that THE Kousaka Honoka just bounced into the kitchen to talk about anything. She was never leaving Idol House. It was too exciting.

Juice, Honoka decided. “I guess I’ll see you next week for the party. I’ll have to get Umi to remind me.”

“Just give me your number and I’ll text you.”

“Sounds good.” Honoka bumped her phone against Aki’s.

BACK TO THE RIN PANA BEDROOM

Rin’s phone played "Start Dash". “It’s Honoka. She wants to know what time she’s supposed to bring the cake tomorrow.”

“Maki’s party is in two days.”

Rin typed rapidly, “Yeah, I’m telling her.” Rin read the reply and whistled, “She says Aki-san says Nico moved it to tomorrow because I ruined the surprise.” Rin’s chartreuse cat eyes were wide as she stared at Hanayo, “I didn’t ruin the surprise.”

“No.” Hanayo glanced at the screen where the studio team was discussing Aki’s sudden interest in Maki, “Oh no!”

“Oh no?” Rin asked quizzically, then shouted, “OH NO!”

“We have to call Nico!”

“And Maki!”

Hanayo hesitated, “But if we do anything to mess up the show…”

Rin interupted, “If it’s a surprise party Aki throws, Maki will hate it.”

“Maki will hate it.”

Maki’s our friend, Kayo-chin. We have to tell her.”

Hanayo hummed, nodding, her fingers pushing into each other.

“Kayo-chin?”

“I’ll talk to Nico first.”

Rin frowned, then threw herself back into the pillows, “All right. But then I call Maki.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Rin grabbed the remote.

 THE DAY BEFORE MAKI’S BIRTHDAY

Rin paced the clubroom, “Maki’s not in school, not answering her phone, not at the House.”

Hanayo glanced up from her phone, “Nico hasn’t heard from her either, but Nico hasn’t really been available.”

The club room door slammed open and Honoka fell in, followed by Umi.

“We have a problem.” Honoka annouced.

In contrast to Honoka's vibrating with concern, Umi sounded her most serious. “We have an opportunity, Honoka, to model proper behavior for our peers.”

Honoka grabbed snack bread out of her bag and tilted her chair back as Umi fussed at her.

“What do you mean?” Rin asked.

“You saw last night’s Idol House too and you know Aki-san is plotting something.” Hanayo sped through her words as she connected clues.

Umi settled very primly into her usual seat, ‘Yes, that was the final clue. Honoka had been bothered by a conversation she had with Kawano-san last week, suggesting Nico changed the plans for Maki’s birthday party.”

Honoka nodded, “It took me awhile, but there was something very weird about our conversation. So I asked Maki and Umi.”

“YOU TOLD MAKI ABOUT THE PARTY!?!” Hanayo squealed.

Honoka shrugged, “Rin would have ruined the surprise anyway.”

Rin got to her feet, hand slapped to her heart, “Rin can keep secrets.”

Hanayo smiled fondly at Rin, “We know, Rin.”

“Honoka is just deflecting blame for having spoiled my surprise party last month.” Umi tapped the table.

“UMI!”

“Hah!” Rin pumped both fists in the air.

Umi reined in the mood, “Rin, Honoka, please control yourselves. We need to make a plan.”

Hanayo slid her chair from the computer screens to the table, “What do you want us to do, Umi?”

 IDOL HOUSE, EVENING BEFORE MAKI'S BIRTHDAY, AS KAWANO AKI SETS UP A PARTY

“Shizu-chan, can you go see if Maki-chan is ready to take a break? I bet she’s been working all day.”

“Maki-san is not here today, Aki.” 

Aki leaned away from the banner she was hanging. She’d had a makeover session with a stylist that ran late and started setting up the party as soon as she got back to the House. “I thought you had a recording session this afternoon.”

Shizu smiled, “I had to reschedule.”

“Oh, I wonder if she’s…”

“AKI-SAN!” Honoka bounced in, waving, “That’s such a cool banner. I brought a cake.” Honoka carefully placed a box on the kitchen counter.

“That’s great, Honoka. Just give me a minute and I’ll take a look. If Maki-chan’s not here…”

“Maki is not here.” Umi announced, as she placed a laptop and projector on the table, “And since you find yourself with free time, we have a wonderful opportunity to discuss why integrity is the foundation of success in any industry or situation.”

“Um.” Aki got down from the step ladder, looking confused.

“Unless you have an objection, Kawano-san?” Umi’s expression was tightly masked anger, but her voice was sickly sweet. Aki suddenly felt nervous.

“Of course, not, Sonoda-san.” Aki bowed, as Honoka nodded approvingly, “Please teach me.”

“Take a seat.” Umi pointed to a specific seat, in case Aki mistakenly thought there were options.

“And then cake and karaoke, right, Umi-chan? Rin-chan can’t beat my score…”

“FIRST, Honoka, we watch the presentation. Attentively.”

“Right.” Honoka suddenly hoped Umi would dim the lights so maybe she could take a quick nap. Rin had been smarter, deciding to show up AFTER the lecture.

Umi smiled at Aki, “Feel free to take notes.”

 KYOTO, AFTERNOON OF THE DAY BEFORE MAKI’S BIRTHDAY

Nico hadn’t heard from Maki since yesterday lunch and after texting with Hanayo this morning, she was worried. But Honoka had texted that she and Umi were taking care of it, so Nico didn’t just walk off the set. It was too early in her career to be anything but cheerful and helpful no matter how many cute girls were trying to hijack your fiancée’s birthday party. It was always too early in your career, but right now, Nico was working especially hard to build a reputation as flexible, dedicated, and professional.

The Kyoto temple setting was almost beautiful enough to take her mind off Maki. Nico watched blossom full branches bounce gently in the wind, creating a gorgeous floral tunnel through the red torii gates of the shrine. The pink and white against the red was breathtaking and Nico watched the video crew set up, excited to be filming here. And then a flash of moving red caught her eye, a smiling redhead in a soft pink and white floral dress, a long sky blue coat open, walking confidently through the gates. A hallucination? A dream? No, Nico shook her head, watching as Maki reached up with an easy grace to let her fingers glide through the silky blossoms as she neared, a vision of earthly beauty touching on divine, the jewels on her engagement ring glinting in the sun. Sweetness, confidence, and poised beauty demanded Nico’s immediate approach. Nico had to stop herself from running, but she lifted her kimono skirt so it wouldn’t impede power walking.

“Hi, Nico-chan. You blossom.” Maki offered her hand. Nico wondered if this was actually a scene from a movie, rather than the ordinary, daily life of Yazawa Nico, aspiring super celebrity idol and number one producer in the universe. But whatever this was, she caught Maki’s hand in hers and pulled today’s gorgeous surprise gift closer.

“Hi, Maki-chan. People are looking for you. In Tokyo.”

Maki’s eyes widened with fake innocence and she spoke in the tone Nico had come to recognize as indicating Maki had done something she thought clever. “But I’m here.”

“Why are you here?”

Maki continued smug, using her explain math to Cocoa voice, “It’s my birthday tomorrow, Nico-chan.”

“Nico knows. We had a surprise party all set up.”

Maki shrugged, other hand in her coat pocket, glorious amethyst eyes glowing as she glanced up at the fragrant cherry blossoms surrounding the path, casually leading Nico away from the crew. “I wanted to be here." Maki looked straight into Nico’s lustful heart and winked. "It’s scenic.” 

Nico still had Maki’s hand and she pulled the redhead to a stop, her wooden geta adding enough height that she could peck Maki on the cheek easily. “Nico didn’t notice until now.”

Maki nodded, pleased at Nico’s attentiveness, and continued her steal Nico away stroll, “It was nice of you to reserve the Suite Tsukimi at the Ritz Carlton for us, Nico-chan. There’s a private moon viewing deck and a Japanese garden.” Maki giggled. “It’s exactly the kind of place I’d want to spend my birthday.”

Ah, Maki had been planning this long before the surprise parties. Nico chuckled, swinging Maki’s hand. “Of course, Nico knew that.”

“Of course. Nico knows everything.” Maki checked to make sure they were out of view of the shrine and pulled Nico in for a hug, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Maki-chan.”

“I’m proud of you.” Maki stepped back, sounding pleased and worried, “And you look so cute in your kimono. Maybe I should have worn one?”

“No.” Nico flipped Maki’s gossamer skirt gently, enjoying Maki's slight shiver at the contact, “You are perfect.”

Maki blushed, both hands going back to her pockets,

“Nico plans to show you how perfect as soon as we wrap up here.” Nico's voice was soft, but certain.

Suddenly eager, Maki pulled a bag out from behind her back. Nico hadn’t noticed the strap over her shoulder, “I brought my Fuji. Will they mind if I take some pictures of you?”

“Sure. Nico will make sure no one bothers you. Take some of the the cherry blossoms too. This feels like a blessing.” Pleasure bubbling through contentment, Nico held out her arms and spun, “Nico knows there will be gray days, and no sleep days, and no gorgeous surprise visitor days, but today, Nico wants to keep this all close to remember.”

Maki had her cell phone out and Nico heard the soft click, as Maki whispered, “Yeah.”

Nico glanced at the screen. She hadn’t noticed the drifting petals or how the dappled white pink of the kimono made her look like a cascading charm of blossoms against the red of the gates as she smiled sweetly up at the bright blue sky, but Maki had caught all that. “You’re showing promise, Nishikino." Nico announced with a playful gruffness,  "You can take all of Nico’s promotional pics.” Nico pushed into Maki’s shoulder, “And write all of Nico’s hit songs.”

“Would that make your life easier or mine?”

Nico laughed, shrugging, grabbing Maki’s waist to pull her in for a bold kiss, “Ours. Happy Birthday, Maki. Spend them all with me. Just like this.”

“Well, that was my plan.” Maki tapped the ring she'd given Nico, in case Nico needed a reminder.

“Marry a smart girl, that’s Nico’s advice.”

“But I want you.”

Nico frowned, Maki laughed and claimed her own kiss, “Sorry, Nico-chan, you’re just so cute when you're aggravated.”

“Nico might decide to do the SMART thing and spend the evening comparing her career options before catching up on her sleep, alone. It might be good for Nico’s complexion.”

Maki pouted. Nico didn’t let her sulk long, It was too bright a day.

“Or maybe Nico will try out a local honeymoon spot she’s heard so much about.”

Maki stepped closer, her scent a light musk in this celestial, floral heaven, her eyes so bright Nico would swear there were flickering flames in the faceted depths, “I could help.”

“Nico would need help.” Nico licked her lips, feeling the pull that always drew her in, Maki tilting her head, a look of surprised wonder just waiting to bloom.

As their lips resealed, with crackling fireworks, their bond and their hands found each other by instinct, Nico felt as if blossoms, pink and perfect, carving in soft sweeps and swallows the shape of Maki’s lips, were bursting, tingling, through her skin. Love, this love, sakura soft in this Spring, was going to turn Nico poet. And Maki was going to get Nico fired. Nico heard footsteps approaching, someone muttering Yazawa-san.

“I have to go, Maki-chan.” Nico forced herself away, It got more difficult with every caress that brought them closer.

Maki’s smile was another sun on this bright, blessed day as she raised her camera in salute, “I’ll keep my eye on you.”

Perfect dreamfuel. 

A/N: I appreciate your patience with the delay in my other ongoing stories, but I feel like I've had a much needed reboot by revisiting this AU. Added bonus: it's fun to fanfic travel on a Nishikino Maki budget.

Happy Birthday to the gloriously grumpy, fabulously kind Nishikino Maki!!! And thank you to everyone I've met here who shares an affection for these lively and silly idols. I hope this brightens your day. Take care!

[t-citurnity-moved]

Convinced

Summary: Caine still isn’t quite sure how he feels about waking up next to V. But if it means more mornings like this, then he’s fine with it.

Warnings: Self Insert / Canon. That’s? About it. I kinda wanna say it gets a bit suggestive at some part, but that’s subverted by fluff instead LMAO.

Author’s Notes: Haha I totally didn’t write this because of that ask I got. This is kind of AU-y??? I don’t really know what to say about it, other than canon is out and doing whatever I want is in.

A tired groan broke the early morning silence. Caine shifts, too tired to really get up quite yet – and even if he wanted, the feeling of arms locked tightly around his waist gave him pause.

At first, he blinks blearily, mind grasping at any remnants of memories – anything he could recall from the day prior.

He twists himself around slowly to face whoever’s grasped so tight to his waist, like they’re afraid to let him go. He half expects it to be a figment of his imagination or maybe he’d even fallen asleep near someone who tended to be a clinger – Nico, Dante, or Nero could’ve easily ticked those boxes.

But he blinks when he’s met with the surprising sight of V, and the both of them managing to squeeze together on the van’s couch. Not that either of them took up much space to begin with, both being worryingly thin – V’s height alone, though, was definitely a concern considering he seemed to have thrown his legs over the arm of the couch instead of curling in on himself.

All while this crosses Caine’s mind, V is simply staring at him and smiling. It’s only when V’s fingers brush hair from his face that he finally reels and recognises the situation for what it is.

He has a host of thoughts in his mind, questions he wants to ask, but V says something before he can.

“It’s much too early for you to be waking, is it not?” He says with a pleased hum, the tone of his voice teasing.

For a few brief minutes longer, Caine is quiet aside from small yawns and incomprehensible mumbles – he’s trying to piece things together, but nothing is coming to mind.

“What…” is all he manages as his face screws up in confusion.

V lets out a breathy chuckle. “Do you not remember yesterday?” He asks, seeming genuinely curious through his attempts to tease. He adjusts slightly, his hand moving to press against Caine’s lower back.

“No…” Caine mumbles tiredly, “what happened?” He follows up, eyes slowly scanning over V’s face. He’s not sure what to do with his own hands, laying on one arm while the other is brought up to nervously bite at his knuckle.

Now it’s V’s turn to fall quiet, his brows furrowing that slight bit. Then, he allows a sigh passed his lips as he presses his other hand gently to Caine’s face.

“It seems you’re more danger prone than you think, little witch,” he says so plainly, but the expression on his face is clearly one of concern.

Before Caine can ask what he means, V continues, “you wounds from yesterday may not have healed yet…”

Caine blinks in disbelief, immediately trying to sit up to see the damage. He stops when a shock of pain runs up the length of his spine. “Fucking-!” He hisses.

V is quick to ease Caine back into his arms, fingers gingerly tendering the wound on his back by rubbing small circles around it. He’s quiet until Caine finally relents and nestles against him.

“Allow yourself to rest, little crow,” V says as he presses a kiss to Caine’s temple, “we have miles to go before we are home.”

Caine’s fingers curl around V’s arm as if that would ease the dull ache pervading his mind now. He relaxes when he feels V’s fingers trailing down his own arm, until their hands finally touch and their fingers interlock.

“’M fine…” He tries to convince, but when he looks to see if V believes him, he sighs and dips his head to bury it in the crook of V’s neck.

“You’re only human,” V soothes, “you are allowed to rest when you’re injured. Or tired, for that matter.”

Caine only cringes at those words, reflexively tightening his grip on V’s hand.

V slowly slides his hand from Caine’s to nudge his chin upward. He stops to press a kiss to his forehead, then continues, until their eyes lock.

“There is no shame in resting when you need to,” he says, seeming so certain of his words. His hand moves to brush down Caine’s cheek, fingers tending a bruise on his jaw.

“No shame in allowing someone to tend to you when you feel weak,” he continues, his thumb brushing across a cut on Caine’s lip.

“You are more than deserving of rest… So much more than you believe,” these words are capped with a featherlight kiss.

Caine’s uncharacteristically quiet, though the redness creeping up his neck to his face is tell-tale enough of his embarrassment.

“Stupid…” He mutters, averting his eyes, “you’re just sayin’ that…”

“Oh? Is that what you think?”

Caine huffs, catching the slightest hint of V’s smirk from the corner of his eyes.

“Then allow me to show you otherwise, my love.”

Caine only flusters more at the thought, his mind wandering briefly before he’s caught off guard by V’s lips on his cheek. Then his jaw.

And before too long, there’s not a spot on his face that hasn’t been kissed. Not a single bruise, cut, or injury that hasn’t been tendered with gentle lips.

And he’s laughing and pushing at V, saying how convinced he is, though V doesn’t seem convinced by him.

“Okay, okay!” He says in a hushed tone despite the hurriedness of his words.

V smirks at him, laying one final kiss to his lips. “Are you convinced of my love now, little crow?”

“Yeah, yeah…” Caine rolls his eyes, looping his arms around V’s neck. He leans in to catch his lips again…

“Will you two please take that shit somewhere else? Some of us are trying to sleep!” Comes Nero’s voice from the front passenger seat, huffing and grumbling.

“… Ah. S-sorry!” Caine manages to get out, burying his face in V’s chest to hide his embarrassment – it only gets worse when he hears Nico and Dante trying to contain their laughter from their respective sleeping spots.

[imagethat]

Jenny | Nico x Female Reader

This one's for the girls, I try to keep everything gender neutral but I really wanted to write something to the song Jenny. Nico x Female Reader~

You had known Nico ever since the two of you were kids. She was always just as excitable, ambitious, and talented as she was now. The way her eyes lit up when she got an idea, how she'd ramble on for hours, or request your help in the garage. You couldn't help but fall in love with her. As the two of you drove towards the phone booth Nero had rang from you tapped your fingers on the seats handle.

Jenny darlin, you're my best friend

It was a month into the Quipoths reign over Red Grave. You, Nero, and Nico have been working night and day to help any survivors.

But there's a few things that you don't know about

You had to slam your hands on the dashboard to keep your face from smashing into it first as Nico leaned out the window to chat with Nero. "No! Not that one! Next to it!" She pointed, wanting the demon part clearly. You internally laughed at how much of an airhead Nero could be, whether it was intentional or not. As Nico fashioned the new demon part into a work of art, you decided to check on Nero. The demon he took down was pretty big after all. "Fuck I need some fresh air." Nero said, waving a hand in front of his face. "Suit yourself." Nico said from her work station, cigarette lit in her mouth even as she worked. Nero grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the van.

Why I borrow you lipstick so often, or how I'm using your shirt as a pillow case

"Ow!" You hissed as he released you. "So!?!?" He asked. "So what?" You questioned, already knowing well what he wanted to hear. "You know what!" He replied with a pointed look. "You get injured so conveniently and I leave so you two have the whole van to yourself and you still don't do anything!" Nero said while crossing his arms. You did have the van all to yourselves but what are you supposed to do. Just be like 'hey I've been mega crushing on you hardcore and like I dont know if you like women but if you do then like maybe we should be together.' You cringed at even the thought of it. "I… I can't do it Nero! I'd rather just be friends… that way I won't risk losing anything." You said while pressing your back to the van and sliding to the ground. You buried your face into your knees. "I already know though, you don't need to remind me." You added quietly. The situation was already grim and some nights the thought you'd never make it back to Nico at all was overpowering. The demons were growing stronger, and at this point in time you three still thought Urizen killed Dante. Unaware he had miraculously survived. Nero sighed softly before crouching down. "Listen, you know Nico well and I know Nico well. She cares for you a lot." He said. You could tell he was being honest, but the thought of telling her scared you. Would you never be able to return to building your motorcycle with her? Would trips to the beach be awkward after this? Your thoughts spun around. The door slammed open and hit something metal. It was Nero's arm, and had he not stopped it, it would've hit you. "Hey! Careful with my-" Nico demanded before noticing you behind the door. "Shit sorry!" She said in a panic. You forced a smile and reassured her it was fine. "Alright! Come see what I've cooked up!" She exclaimed excitedly, Nero following her back into the van. But not without giving you a certain look.

I want to ruin our friendship

Later that night you took over the driving so Nico could get some needed rest. She seemed so peaceful. You didn't have any spare blankets in the van, so you draped your jacket over her instead. The phone rang, but lucky for you Nico was a pretty heavy sleeper. "Where are you?" You asked and Nero ignored you. "So!?!?" He demanded and you slammed the phone back into the holder. He was a persistent jackass and kept trying to call until you had to turn off the phone. By the time you did, Nico was awake though and looked a little displeased. "Somethin' happening hun?" She mused groggily. "No, no! Everythings fine. Nero is just being annoying as usual." You reassured in a soft tone. She nodded and searched for her glasses, unable to find them in the dark. You grabbed them from the dash and slid them carefully onto her face.

We should be lovers instead

Your hand lingered for a moment too long before you pulled away. Thankful it was night, because the dusk hid your blushing cheeks. "Sorry!" You quickly said before taking your seat again. "You can go back to sleep, I've got this. Don't worry." You said with a smile. She tucked herself back in with your jacket, which made your face burn even worse. 

I don't know how to say this, cause you're really my dearest friend

These feelings would continue to consume you the way they had for months. The first time you realized you had them was one time when the two of you were working in the garage on a truck. You always teased her, saying it looked like a toy truck. But having something that could go off road would really help with getting more jobs. The thing was her prized joy and the two of you built it from the frame up. Adding your own flare to the inside with decorations too. "We have to test it!!!" She cheered, hands clenched near her chest. It took a good half hour before she convinced you. "No crazy driving though! We still need to do a bit more work." You warned while climbing into the passenger seat. She squealed and climbed into the driver's seat. The ride seemed to be going well and was tame for her until she spotted a completely empty parking lot. You could see it in her eyes. "Nico no!" You cried as she drove over the sidewalk into it, starting to do cookies in the parking lot. Part of the tire had lost traction though and simultaneously the power steering gave out. Causing the steering wheel to become too hard to turn. You could feel the momentum and Nico let out a scream. You were quicker, unbuckling your seatbelt and moving into her lap almost. You were part demon, and stronger than her, so you had no problem turning the wheel as you flicked through the gears. When you finally came to a stop that showed no sign of tipping you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. Your chest heaving for air, Nico's doing the same. She was used to stuff like that, but even it had frightened her. In this moment of closeness though, your legs lightly tangled together, your noses almost touching as you looked at her. It burned in your chest. You buried your face in her shoulder as you laughed at the pure luck you had just encountered. She hugged you tightly. "You're a gift from god, you are a gift from fucking god." She sang through her breaths. Suffice to say you drove back and made a pact to never tell Nero because he'd never let you live it down. You got lost in your thoughts, recalling every good time you've had with her. 

I've been doing bad things that you don't know about stealin your stuff now and then

Nero knew about your feelings early on and joked about how Nico was blind for not being able to see them. The only reason you think he knew though was because one time you had gotten completely covered in demon gunk so you borrowed one of Nicos shirts. And you had carelessly worn it in front of Nero when he came to hang out at your house. When he offered to take it back to her you got flustered and tried to lie and say it was a gift. But he knew. Oh he knew. You always gave Nico extra attention, taking hard missions just to get her new materials. Offering to buy her food so you could see her. 

Nothing you'd miss but it means the world to me

But most telling of all was when Nicos birthday rolled around. You spoiled the girl senseless with all the attention, demon parts, and gifts you could afford. The thing she adored most though was a tiny sterling silver heart necklace you had bought her. Sure, it was a little tacky, but it was small and clung close to her neck. You knew she wouldn't want anything too fancy. Later that night all of you had gone to a club, just to dance and enjoy her special night. Nero stayed away from you two because he could see the way you laughed and danced with her. Your eyes gleaming, even in the slightly dark disco room. But the way the lights landed on Nico as she moved, you couldn't help but be mesmerized. 

I wanna ruin our friendship we should be lovers instead but I don't know how to say this because you're really my dearest friend

As your thoughts become overbearing, you gave into sleep. How you wanted to hold her right now. You woke up to the sound of Nico tinkering. She noticed you sit up immediately and dropped a wrench in surprise. "Oh my god I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to wake you!" She said apologetically. "It's fine, you've gotta be ready for the day n all." You hummed tiredly as you stretched. "Oh my god I'm so sore." You whimpered, not used to sleeping in the drivers chair. You got up and made your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up for the day. As you made your way out, informing Nico you were joining the hunt again, she stopped you. She seemed embarrassed, hiding something behind her back. "What is it?" You asked curiously with a confused expression. "C-close your eyes and hold out your hands!" She demanded. You followed her orders and tried to guess what she placed in your hands. "Open!" She exclaimed. You opened your eyes to find your weapons in your hand. But she had improved them by heaps and bounds. "Oh my gosh! Thank you!" You said excitedly, wanting to test them out. "O-of course, I've been saving up parts to make 'em really good." She said while averting her eyes from yours. "R-really?" You questioned and she nodded. "Yeah, but don't tell Nero! It's only free for you!" She exclaimed and you nodded while smiling. "Of course!" You said while offering a pinky. She locked hers with yours and nodded with a grin. "Alright, if that's all, I'll be on my way. Thank you so much!" You exclaimed, making your way to the door again but she stopped you. 

Jenny take my hand

She was holding your hand from across the counter, and before you could turn to face her she had ducked below the counter and gotten behind you. Placing her hands on your shoulder blades. It made you shudder but you kept deathly still. "Nico?" You asked, voice barely above a whisper. She wasn't one to be tender with anyone but in this moment she seemed so soft. Her arms wrapped around you from behind. Was she… Crying??? She wasn't one to cry either. She wasn't worried about the demon outbreak until you had been injured and had to stay with her in the van. The wound was pretty deep and if you were honest, you got lucky. She pressed her face into your shoulder. The past few days you had been too absorbed in your thoughts to notice how she had changed or how much she was working. "Stay safe out there." She said quietly, giving your stomach a squeeze. Slowly your rested your hands on top of hers.

Cause we are more than friends, and I will follow you until the end

"I will." Was all you could manage to squeeze out. You don't know how long you two stood like that before you peeled her hands from you so you could turn and face her. You hesitated for a moment before raising your hands to her cheeks. Rubbing away the remnants of her tears softly with your thumbs. "I will, I promise." You repeated in a more affirmative voice. She nodded before leaning in. You closed your eyes as you accepted her kiss. Her lips were soft and you could taste whatever chapstick she had used earlier. You got caught up in the moment as she leaned into you more heavily. You wished you could stay like this forever, in this perfect moment. You pulled away slowly and rested your forehead against hers. 

[dylan-o-yumm]

Breaks from angst? Fluffy Nero at his wedding? Possibly?

(Fuck I got so carried away with this... whoops. Anyway I had a lot of fun conjuring this one up)

Nero didn’t want a big fancy wedding with a huge ball room and ceremony with a hundred people attending. And to be honest, you didn’t either. You knew how shy Nero got about PDA, so asking him to marry you and say his vows in front of a huge crowd didn’t even cross your mind. You both knew it would be far more special if it were smaller, with just the Devil May Cry crew and some of your family and friends, a small outdoor venue, and some booze and food. 

Nero was wearing a navy blue suit that fitted and hugged his muscles well, while you wore a nice knee length dress that fanned out slightly at the waist. You saw his jaw drop and eyes widen when you walked down the isle, and you definitely didn’t miss him wiping away tears with his thumb before you came to stand beside him, resting your hands in his. You too felt very emotional, unable to wipe the smile off your face as you started lovingly into his blue eyes. It was cheesy, but you felt like it were just you and him, no eyes on you except for his.

The ceremony was short, after saying your vows and exchanging rings, you sealed it all with a kiss. It was the best kiss you’d ever had, so much love and promise held in one action. You held onto his shoulders, pulling him to you as his arms wrapped around your waist, bodies pressed together while you waited for all air to leave your lungs before pulling away. You shared a loving gaze before large smiles made their way onto both your faces, the small crowd standing and they clapped and whooped. Nico and Dante were the loudest, cheering loudly like the children they are. 

The night rolled by and everyone began to drink and dance, mingling and enjoying being with each other before dinner came. There was one large, rectangle table, big enough to fit all your guests around it while you and Nero sat together in the middle, able to talk to anyone you wanted to. You talked to Nero the most though, whispering in each others ears and stealing kisses every now and then, just happy to be together. You did talk to Nico, Lady and Dante as well, since they were sitting on the other side of the table across from you, easiest to converse with. 

Dante stood up suddenly, tapping his whine glass with a fork to get everyones attention as they ate. You and Nero shared a worried glance at each other, not knowing where Dante was going to take this as he opened his mouth to speak. He began with warning his nephew, saying that if he ever hurts you he’d personally kick his ass, to which everyone laughed since he should be giving that warning to you instead, being Nero’s uncle and all. However, his speech didn’t end so wholesome and family friendly as he mentioned how the two of you were probably just waiting to get to the honeymoon part already. 

“To Nero and Y/n! The cutest fucking couple I have ever seen.” Dante raised his glass before taking a sip and smirking at the two of you. Your cheeks were pink but Nero was too happy to care about his goofy uncle embarrassing him in front of everyone, chuckling and pressing a kiss to your temple as he too picked up his drink and took a sip. A few more people stood up to say a few words, all a lot more kind and congratulating… except for Nico, she was just as bad as Dante, if not worse. 

After dinner and awkward speeches, slow music started and it was announced that it was time for the bride and groom to dance with their mother and father in law. Nero kissed the back of your hand as he went to offer his hand to your mother, pulling her from her seat and beginning a slow dance while they talked and laughed. You loved watching them get along so well. A finger tapped your shoulder and you spun around to see Nero’s father, Vergil extending his hand to you. He looked displeased that he’d be dancing in front of everyone but he did agree to do so anyway… After Dante offered to take his place that is. 

You took Vergil’s hand and followed him to the open space, his hand resting respectively high up on your back while the other held your hand. Your palm layer flat against his shoulder as you both began swaying slightly in time with the music. You could hear Nero chuckling and laughing with your mother still, smiling at the sound as Vergil shifted so you could see the pair dancing over his shoulder. You smiled warmly at Vergil and figured you better strike up a conversation since he didn’t look like he was going to. 

“I’m glad you’re here… So is Nero, even if he doesn’t say it” You stated genuinely, your smile fading to show him you were serious. Vergil met your gaze for a brief moment, humming as if it didn’t bother him either way before he averted his eyes again. You thought that was it, the end of the conversation and leaving you to have an awkward dance with… the devil. However he surprised you when he broke he silence. 

“My son is a fool about many things. However, I believe he is doing right by keeping you as close as he is. Without power, you cannot protect anything. With nothing, power has no use” He quotes as if it were a poem but you’re sure it isn’t one, his tone lacking emotion as usual but you didn’t mind. His words hit you like a ton of bricks and you wanted to ask him what he meant but he quickly raised his hand holding yours, spinning you before letting go. You expected to be left alone, having gotten your dance and words of… congratulations? However you smack right into someone, a hand quick to grab yours and resume the position you were previously in. 

“Funny bumping into you here” Dante joked, resting his hand on the middle of your back. You realised it was lower than where Vergil’s hand had been, but was still at an appropriate distance from your backside. You chuckled, fixing your hand on his shoulder and turning to watch the older brother head back to the table to watch the four of you dancing. “Figured I’d cut in since I’m clearly more of a father figure to the kid than Verg is.” Dante puffed his chest as if it were another title he was adding to his name. 

“Vergil is getting better. At least he isn’t killing anyone, so thats a plus in my books” You sighed, smile returning as you stepped side to side in time with the music. Dante definitely had more energy when it came to dancing than Vergil did, his feet tapping and hips swaying. Either way the two seemed to be pretty good dancers but in different genres. 

“I hope you have some tissues, kid. Cause I’m about to get sappy on you here” Dante warned, slowing his movements down considerably as he held a serious expression on his face instead of his usual smirk and carefree smile. “Nero hasn’t had a proper family before. It wasn’t until he started working for the business that he had us to call his family. He’s had a crappy life, no mother or father… until now, but thats not the point.” Dante frowned, telling you things you already knew but you didn’t dare interrupt him. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is thanks. I don’t think he was ever truly happy until he met you, and when you two started dating it was like a breath of fresh air for him. You changed him in ways I didn’t think were possible, but I’m glad you did because… I don’t know where the poor kid would be without you…” Dante was so uncharacteristically serious it sent shivers down your spine, but what he was saying only made your eyes well with tears. “So… thanks. For being there for my punk of a nephew when no one else was. Both Vergil and I owe you a great deal for you simply being you” He concluded with a soft smile.

You didn’t have words to express what you were feeling. You wanted to tell him that it was your absolute pleasure, being there for Nero, being with Nero… its been the greatest life because of him and you felt like you should be thanking him. It was Dante who introduced the two of you anyway. Instead you forgot about dancing for the moment to wrap both arms around the legendary devil hunters waist, hugging him tightly as you forced your tears away so you didn’t come back with puffy eyes. 

Dante laughed, patting your back as he hugged you back. You didn’t let go until you heard someone behind you clear their throat. You turned around to see Nero smiling softly at you, your mother already walking back to her seat as he stood before you. Dante pressed a kiss to the top of your head before walking off, too, going to sit down the the rest of your guests to watch what everyone has been waiting for. 

Nero held a hand out, letting you slide your palm against his as you stood to him. He gently tugged you into the middle of the dance floor, walking backwards as he did so, before pulling you to him, going to rest his hand on your waist like the two men before him did. Instead, you felt the overwhelming urge to be closer, far more closer to him. You didn’t give him the chance to react as you flung your arms around his neck and buried your face in the crook of his neck, body pressed firmly against his. He must have been shocked, the small crowd chuckling at the two of you as he settled for wrapping his arms around your waist, bowing his head to hide his face in your neck as well. 

“You feeling okay?” Nero asked and you nodded against him, chuckling at the fact that he was worried right now when you were holding each other as you swayed to music. Your chest was so warm and heavy with love and appreciation for the boy in front of you, Dante’s words echoing in your mind and you were sure they’d stay in your brain for as long as you were alive. 

“I just feel… so damn lucky” You breathed out, pulling back slightly and cupping his face in your hands to pull his face up, off your shoulder. You didn’t care that people were watching, and he seemed to let all PDA slide for today, since he usually wasn’t a fan of it. You pressed a soft peck to his lips, smiling when he chased you for a longer kiss. “I love you so damn much” You whispered. 

“I love you more. But, you got one thing wrong” Nero sighed happily, squeezing your waist a little as he pulled you tightly against him. You guessed what he was going to say before he said it, but hearing the words still made you smile like a love sick teenager non the less. “I’m the lucky one here” He whispered in your ear before kissing your cheek.  

Dante, Nico, Lady, all your family and everyone that were watching the two lovebirds on the dance floor, wished they had a love like yours. Thew were all smiling and imagining themselves in your position, being with someone they love like that. Everyone was happy. Even Vergil couldn’t help but smile at the two of you embracing each other, ignoring everyone’s eyes no you. Nero was all that mattered to you and you were all that mattered to him. 

[thetoffeefox]

That wasn’t very subtle [Vergil X Reader]

Ok so I have been entertaining our timid reader having a slight bout of jealousy for the older Sparda brother that she has an enormous crush on. I just wasn’t able to form a plot in my head until I received a prompt from my drabble challenge I am doing. Specifically Prompt 53. “That wasn’t very subtle” @jockgothbitch requested the prompt and stated that she adored the series and then bam the final puzzle piece clicked into place! So my dear (even though it isn’t NSFW, which you were somewhat hoping for) this chapter is just for you! As a thank you for helping me beat that dreaded monster that lives underneath my keyboards backspace and enter key(writer's block) and for the love and support you have for this series! 

       The loud bar scene wasn’t something you favored in your 20s but ever since you met the gang you found yourself in it. At first, you loathed it, the music and people were loud sometimes even crass.Then there were the rare occasions you got hit on and oh boy was that an interesting scene. The first time you were hit on you were near the bathrooms. No seemed to not be in this man vocabulary because he persisted and persisted cornering you. It made a level of fear flare up in you; you have never felt before in your life. Well, you were scared until the guy was on the ground knocked out thanks to Nero who had noticed you were gone far too long to be taking a pee break. You and Nero both became close and quickly at that. He saw you as a little sister of sorts even though you were almost ten years older than him. So when he saw you cornered and shaking like a helpless rabbit under a wolfs gaze it lit a fire in him. Be it to say all of you were kicked out of the bar because the young devil hunter just couldn’t let it go. Kyrie scolded not only Nero, Trish, and Lady for allowing you to go off by yourself but she scolded you as well for thinking it was a bright idea to do so. Ever since then you guys had implemented the buddy system. Once Nico joined the fray, she was your go to; the woman had a glare that could send a man packing. Now though any regulars or bar patrons knew well enough to leave, you be least they wanted to face the wrath of three devil hunters and an arms dealer. Now when it came to bars, you enjoyed the setting. You could relax and let loose a little. Occasionally you would even have a semi-decent and intelligent conversation with another patron or bartender. Right now you weren’t doing anything of those things. Right now you were glancing at the only person in the bar who was anything but pleased to be there. It was glaringly obvious that Vergil was not one for the bar scene. You could see from here his brows was furrowed in irritation and the corners of his mouth were almost turned to a very obvious frown. However, you had to give him credit; he was trying his best to blend and meld into human society. He probably only agreed to go because Nero had asked if he wanted to. After a few months of staying with all of you, it became obvious he was trying his best to get to know Nero and somewhat of a father figure to him. As much as he could be a father figure to his 25-year-old son. Jumping you turn back to Nico who was glaring daggers at you. Shit, she was talking to me, what did she say? You flash her a sheepish smile while thinking this and she growls her glare intensifying.

   “If you’re gonna stare at him, go talk to him.”  She grunts out taking a sip of her whiskey, your cheeks heat up at the notion.

   “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You huff out your face red as a strawberry at this point.

   “Well, if you won’t then that little blond thing over there will.” Nico states waving her hand over in Vergil’s direction.

   Confused you turned and noticed that in past what felt like five seconds a petite and slender blond woman was now trying to converse with the oldest of the Sparda twins. Instantly your neutral state sours and your frown as you watch the woman’s hand go to his shoulder. What the hell does she think she is doing? Gripping your drink tighter you watch as she seems to be deflected but right away tries again. Whatever she said seems to pique his interest, and he converses with her. What the hell!? Evidently, you made a funny face because you hear Nico snort making you snap your head towards her to glare. She chuckles and takes another sip of her drink as you turn and watch the exchange. An urge comes over you and oh lord is it childish and you try to mash it down and take the reins that are your impulse control but you can’t. The liquor in your system has muddled such a thing along with any reservations or inhibitions that would be connected with what you are about to do. With a deep breath, you take a swig of your drink and hop up from your seat and make your way to the other end of the bar. You notice Nero in the bar's corner he’s with Dante at two pinball machines and it looks like both men are fiercely at each other's throat determined to get a higher score than the other. Perfect, great conversation starter and even a better way to get that WOMAN away from him! Finally, you get to him acting as if the blonde next to him doesn’t even exist.

    “Hey, Nero and Dante are really going at it at the pinball machines you wanna watch?” You ask a light smile on your face.  

    You were a hell of a poker player, and if there was ever a time, you needed your best poker face it was now. Luck seemed to be on your side because the woman beside him was but forgotten as he got up to presumably watch his brother and son go at it over something mundane. Quickly you fire off the excuse your grabbing another drink and you'd be right there with them. As you order your drink make eye contact with the woman that was sitting next to him, her lip up turns slightly in anger as she hops off her bar stool and moves her way back into the crowd. About the same time Nico comes up beside you so once again you use your poker face to hide that fact you wanted to grin from ear to ear. The arms dealer leans against the bar making eye contact a smug look on her face that was clearly meant to tease and taunt you. She even adds a wiggle to her eyebrows that makes you go stiff as the bartender slide your drink to you

    “Yknow darling.” She shifts her position as you take a sip of your drink. “That wasn’t very subtle.” You almost choke on your drink as she nods her head towards Trish and Lady who were wearing shit-eating grins.

    “....Shut up, Nico.”