#no matter if he's proven time and time again that he cares so much and is the sweetest loving person

[shadowsingercassia]

The Day Hope Died

Rhysandxreader (on the second part)

Warnings: torture, mentions of torture, wing damage (very innacurate from the actual books but anyways), Amarantha (she's a TW herself fr), angst (tell me if i missed anything!!)

Words: 1.2k

a/n: even if people don't enjoy this, I'm proud of it

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Being under the mountain was like living in hell. Rhysand had been forced to do all sorts of atrocities. Invade people's minds and collect information from their memories, torturing them, and killing them with his daemati abilities.

As he sat on the mattress on the bed he was unavoidably sharing with Amarantha, he finally let the tears fall, flowing down his face in thick rivulets. His wings dangled behind him, the talons at the ends scraping against the sheets.

Quiet sobs left his lips, sounding so broken, filled with years of held-back emotions and suppressed feelings. The taste of his salty tears reached his mouth and his hand went to brush them away.

But the tears only fell, uncontrolled. All he had kept shunned down to the depths of his heart escaped, pouring into those tears. His chest ached, his body ached, his soul ached, and the ache wouldn’t go away, sitting heavily on top of his heart.

Rhysand sat there for Mother knows how long, crying, letting it all out. He sat there until the tears dried and the redness in his eyes faded. Yet still, the corners of his eyes prick with tears now and then.

Deep down, there was a sorrow he couldn't calm. A sorrow that would never leave him, no matter how much he wept.

He knew Amarantha would return before he knew it, and then compel him to do unspeakable things anew. Or perhaps she was already there, observing him as he broke while she laughed silently and mocked him.

He hadn’t felt her presence though, and it filled him with a spark of hope. It was always there, prepared to flare up with the smallest chance - yet each time she returned, it was lit out. And every time the hope was dimming. Perhaps it soon would be the time that the spark was finally shut down. Forever. For eternity.

Hope was useless anyway; there was no hope for anyone trapped here. It was pointless, dreaming. Rhysand couldn’t even dream of anything besides the nightmares Amarantha shoves into his mind. He can’t dream of anything other than the faces he has been forced to torture.

And Cauldron, he was a dreamer, a hopeful person. Where was that hopefulness now? Where were the dreams?

At least he knew his family was guarded and out of harm's way. Truly, that was all that mattered to him. Rhysand didn’t care about what happened to him, not at all, so long as his family was secure, he didn’t care if he lived or died under the mountain.

Wiping away the last remnants of his tears, he heard the door unlock, as Amarantha entered the room. “Rhysie, Rhysie… oh, how pathetic you are, look at you, crying,” her voice was full of mockery, yet Rhysand wasn’t infuriated. Instead, he faced her words and accepted them. He knew that in some sense, he was pathetic. In some sense, everything she said is true.

Hence, he believed her, and he forced himself to believe everything she told him. Perhaps the nightmare would end that way. When he finally shows his full acceptance and submission, maybe it will end.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

But it all was just a big what-if, and there was no sign of anything changing. It was the same routine, the same days over and over. Wake, please Amarantha. Torment people and then go back to rest, if he could only get a few hours of it.

Rhysand lowered his gaze to the floor, tears blurring his vision again. He used to think that rebelling against Amarantha would make her stop everything. But soon, his naïve mind was proven wrong. So he tried to submit to her desires, no matter how physically sick it made him. At least she wouldn’t torture him, wouldn’t hurt him.

In truth, he was scared of the suffering, scared of her. Everyone was, and everyone is. Because torture is agony and there’s nothing he could do about it.

Rhysand hated whenever she tortured him, he hated feeling the sting of the scars after.

No one there could heal him, Amarantha wouldn’t allow it. So whenever she tortured him, the blood would stick to his skin for days, weeks before he was allowed one single bath. Then, he would scrub his skin raw to rid himself of the blood.

“Just stop crying already you’re such a useless toy,” she starts again, "can’t even do your job right and please me. I should just kill you already.” She added. Rhysand’s chest tightened. His lips pressed into a thin line as if that could stop the fresh tears pooling in his eyes.

He felt her long nails on his wings, the pads of her fingers trapping the talon of his wing between them. Then she twisted it.

A scream tore from his throat as he propelled forward to his knees. His head dropped to the ground, his forehead meeting the cold stone as he felt the tears against his cheeks.

Sharp sensations tore through him again as she twisted and twisted, intending to pull the talon right out of its place. The pain grew stronger and stronger, his screams drowned out by the burning in his throat.

Rhysand felt something disconnect before he heard her voice. “Well, wouldn’t this make such a lovely charm for my necklace? I’ll wear it like jewelry, just like I do with Jurian’s eye,” she stated, her tone cold. The feeling of something utterly wrong consumed Rhysand.

Everything was amiss, Amarantha hadn’t simply torn the talon. She took a part of the membrane with it. He heard the sound of it tear and then it was shoved in front of where his forehead was pressed.

It smelled like blood and as he opened his eyes, his gaze fell on the piece of the leather-like skin of his wing in front of his eyes. Bile stung his throat before he threw up. His wings, his Illyrian wings, the one thing that made him feel alive, now one of them torn, scarred for life. And there was no way of fixing it, no way of healing the tissue.

A door slammed shut and Rhysand realized Amarantha left the room. He lifted his face from the ground and looked at his wing, the top bone completely torn off. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. So much so that he wasn't certain if someone was also tearing his heart from his chest with their hands at the same time.

Once, he had been told to embrace his pain but this was unlike any other. It was a pain that made him feel too empty. He was unable to embrace it because this pain was the kind of pain that came from losing a part of yourself - something he has experienced once too many times.

But his wings were still such an important part of him that he couldn’t bear thinking that now, he wouldn’t be able to fly. Never again, he would ever fly alongside Cassian and Azriel, alongside his brothers. He will never be able to feel the wind as it kisses his face.

He would never feel freedom again.

And maybe that was when all of his hope evaporated. Perhaps, that was the day when this spark died.

Because Rhysand felt utterly helpless, utterly hopeless.

And alone, so alone.

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a/n: part 2 coming soon (with a happy ending)

general taglist: @blessthepizzaman @amara-moonlight @homeslices @flourishandblotts-inc @anarchiii @barb00235

comment '💕' to be added to my general taglist!

Love, Cassia ❤️

[crownedwille]

.

[ednacrabapple]

“Ken Jennings hate account” is not a fucking joke btw. This man has absolutely ruined jeopardy. Literally the entire reason I didn’t watch celebrity jeopardy as it was airing was because I cannot stand him. I saw one episode (Chris Meloni’s because unfortunately I am SVU trash) and it was so painful to sit through. Ken is bad enough on regular jeopardy, but on celebrity jeopardy? He is a million times worse. Every joke feels so painfully forced. He has horrible banter. The celebrities basically have to take over and run the show themselves for any sort of entertainment value (because let’s be real here, celebrity jeopardy is not real jeopardy. It’s just all for fun). I refused to watch it because it was just so awful and I didn’t feel like torturing myself that way. But for whatever reason, I finally did watch it all, and now I feel so heartbroken that I didn’t get to watch it in real time. I should have completely shocked watching Lisa Ann Walter’s come from behind win in the championship game, but instead I’ve known she was the winner for months and watching it happen was just a formality. I get that not everybody likes Mayim Bialik - I honestly don’t love her myself - but she was quite literally a million times better on celebrity jeopardy (and regular jeopardy!) than Ken could ever hope to be, and if she really isn’t coming back, then jeopardy needs to figure something out and find somebody new to host this show because Ken is not the fucking answer.

[surftrips]

ABOUT YOU | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

request: luke x reader fluff w like an aphrodite!reader? reader is all sunshine and flowers and makes luke all soft/campers teasing luke abt the way reader changed him 🤭

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is probably my favorite luke fic that i've written so far thank u so much anon for sending this request in! writing aphrodite!reader is so much fun, i'm such a sucker for the opposites trope. hope you all enjoy 🤍

You were the human embodiment of sunshine, a real life angel. Gentle, kind, and lovely— in other words, the complete and total opposite of Luke Castellan. He was dark and broody, strong and rough, and not totally unfriendly, but definitely intimidating. 

But even if you weren’t the daughter of Aphrodite, Luke believed that you would still be just as beautiful. There was something in the way you carried yourself that had made his heart surrender the second he laid eyes on you. You became the one and only exception in his long list of grievances. 

So it came as no surprise to anyone at camp when the two of you started dating, just to the dismay of many of your admirers and a few of Luke’s as well. If there was one thing you had in common, it was your beauty. With his puppy dog eyes and curly brown hair, Luke was a sight for sore eyes, almost as much as you were. 

One day, you were walking hand in hand when one of the younger campers accidentally bumped into Luke. On any other occasion, Luke might have started an altercation, but today, he simply smiled and said, “Just be careful next time.” The camper stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked into place as you softly giggled.

“What?” he smiled, looking over at you as the kid took it as an opportunity to run away. 

“Nothing,” you mused. “Just that I think you’re getting soft, Luke Castellan.” You poked a finger at his chest playfully. 

“What?” he shook his head. “No, I’m not.” 

Though he attempts to keep a serious face, you could see the amusement in his eyes. He often looked at you like this, ready to go along with anything you said— no matter how silly or whimsical your remarks. 

“Okay, lover boy. Whatever you say,” you shrugged, offering him a kiss on his cheek that instantly causes color to rush into his face. Ignoring that he’s just proven your point, he attempts to hide his expression by seeking solace in the crook of your neck. He would never admit it to anyone, but he often thought his favorite place at camp was the spot in between your jaw and collarbone. 

Even though most of the campers were still a little frightened by the idea of approaching Luke, his closest friends were not afraid to speak their minds. 

“Dude, you’re like, totally whipped for her,” Percy remarked over lunch once. 

“And you’re like, totally fourteen years old,” Luke said.

“I think the fourteen year old’s right,” Chris jumped in.

“Dude! I thought you were supposed to have my back,” Luke throws up his arms in mock aggravation.

The two boys snickered, causing Luke to speak up again. “I am not whipped for Y/N.” 

“Oh, sure,” Chris began. “So the reason you’re practically skipping around camp and letting whatever team Aphrodite cabin is in win Capture the Flag is because…?” 

“Oh, and don’t forget the constant checking his phone to see if she texted back and sharing his blanket with her at the campfire!” Percy pointed out. “Meanwhile, I’m over here freezing…” 

“Maybe,” Luke scrambled to come up with an answer. “Maybe, I was just in a really good mood those days. It could have absolutely nothing to do with Y/N.” 

He barely believed the words himself, and Chris and Percy were certainly not convinced. Luke wasn’t even sure why he felt the need to defend himself. 

“Dude, it’s okay if you are, she’s literally your girlfriend,” Chris said.

“Hey! I have an idea, let’s ask Annabeth!” Percy declared.

“Annabeth? Why her?” Luke furrowed his brow. 

“Because, she’s a girl. And she’s known you the longest, she can give us a real answer,” Percy said matter-of-factly. 

Luke thought it over. The young boy was technically right, Annabeth was like a little sister to him. If anyone could tell if he had changed since dating you, it would be her. This came as both a good and bad realization to him, because what if he had changed? Gods, was it that obvious? 

Before he could agree to asking Annabeth, the young girl was already at their table. Percy must have called her over while Luke was thinking. 

“What’s up?” she asked, sitting down across from him with her plate of food. 

“Oh, nothing, just talking about how soft Luke has gotten since he started dating Y/N,” Chris explained with a grin on his face. 

“Oh?” Annabeth said, seemingly amused. 

“Yeah, we actually wanted to get your opinion,” Percy continued. “Would you say you agree or disagree, that you know, Luke is nicer now that he’s with Y/N?”

Annabeth seemed to think it over for a second. “Gods, you guys are such children,” she scoffed. 

“Thank you!” Luke cut in.

“I mean, all of you,” she looked at Luke pointedly. “Why do you care what a bunch of kids think about you anyway? And not that it matters, but you, Castellan, are most definitely whipped for Y/N.” 

That shut Luke up immediately, and caused cheers to erupt from Chris and Percy, who were clapping each other on their backs as if they had just won Capture the Flag. 

Annabeth smiled and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say “Sorry, Luke. It’s true.” 

Later that night, Luke snuck over to the Aphrodite Cabin to find you. You were surprised when Luke woke you up, it had been a while since he came seeking your comfort in the middle of the night. He used to have bad nightmares, but you noticed he had gotten better since you started dating. You’d like to think it was because of you, but perhaps that would be thinking too highly of yourself.  

In an effort to clear his mind, you suggested to go on a walk together. He agreed, and you climbed out of bed as quietly as you could.

You allowed him a few minutes of silence until his heavy breathing had slowed down and his grip on your hand had loosened. 

“What’s on your mind, hon?” you asked softly. 

Luke didn’t respond at first, distracting himself by tracing the lines on the palm of your hand. You were happy to give him as much time as he needed, placing your other hand on his back and gently drawing circles.

After a while, he did speak up. “Uhm, do you think that I’m, like, unapproachable?” 

Your heart sank and you stopped in your tracks. “What makes you say that?” 

“I don’t know, it’s just something that’s been on my mind recently.” 

“Luke, is this about what I said to you the other day? Because I didn’t mean it like that—” 

“No, baby,” he rushed. The last thing he wanted was for you to think you had done something wrong. He wasn’t sure that you could ever do wrong, not in his eyes. “I was just talking to Percy and Chris at lunch today and they were kind of teasing me.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of your boyfriend, Mr. Tough Guy, being teased by a few kids younger than him. “I’m sorry, babe. Continue,” you placed a supportive hand on his chest as you regained your composure. 

“They said that I’ve changed since we started dating.” 

Though you were an expert in human emotion, there were still times you couldn’t read the expression on Luke’s face. You couldn’t tell if he thought of this as a bad thing, or if he was just curious to see what you thought. You decided on the latter. “Changed how so?” 

“They think I’m soft now because I’m always in a good mood and stuff…” he trailed off. Even now, in the dark of the night, you could tell he was blushing.

“Well,” you started, trying to find the right words. “You know, I was just teasing you the other day, babe. I think you’ve always been this way.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I think you’ve always been a giant teddy bear,” you grinned, unable to contain yourself. “Luke, you’re not as bad as everyone thinks you are.” 

By now, both of you had stopped walking. Ever since Luke arrived at camp, he had been characterized as the tough, stony, and slightly antagonistic guy. All because of a scar he carried and the stories of what he had gone through with Annabeth and Thalia. Many people were still intimidated by him, despite his position as the counselor in Hermes and his job to welcome newcomers. It had been so long, he wasn’t sure if this was the way he was, or the way that he was made to be. 

As if reading his thoughts, you said, “You don’t have to be what they tell you to be. Do you know the words I use to describe you when someone asks me about you?” 

Unable to speak, Luke simply shook his head. 

“Gentle, kind, and lovely.” 

Luke wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but certainly nothing close to the words you had chosen. “You do not,” he objected. 

“I'm serious, baby,” you placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him in until your foreheads were touching. “I think you’re the most wonderful and caring guy I’ve ever met. I think you always have been, you just don’t always show it.”

He stared at you intently before pulling a loose strand of hair out of your face. You kissed the top of his head, “I must be one lucky girl.” 

“Hey, if there’s one thing I’m sure about, it’s that I’m the lucky one,” he said, before pulling you in for a kiss. 

[morbiderotica]

Hii! Can i pls request a Light x reader nsfw? You know the scenes where L planted a camera in his room right? Well maybe to make L less suspicious of him Light fucks the reader in his room? I thought that it was a hot idea♡ you dont have to do it if you dont want to😊

★ DECEPTION ─ fem!reader

#NOTES ─ i love you for requesting this i cannot tell you how many times i've day dreamed about this (sorry it took so long)

#WARNINGS ─ smut, cnc peeping toms (L), p in v,

#SUMMARY ─ "there was an elaborate plan set in place. but as soon as light's hands snaked around your waist you seemed to forget everything you were supposed to do and say." innocent until proven guilty

there was an elaborate plan set in place. but as soon as light's hands snaked around your waist you seemed to forget everything you were supposed to do and say. his moderately chapped lips kissing your cheek lovingly. much unlike how light usually behaved around you.

"light." his name left your lips, trying to warn him he'd made your mind go blank. but he knew.

"i know." he whispered back, displeasure laced in his voice. luckily, light was more than capable of carrying out the plan for the both of you.

"just let me do all the work." he muttered, his voice not loud enough to be picked up on by the mics on the camera but still he was careful with what he said.

he hoped you would be too. you nodded. looking up at light with a lustful look in your eye that he couldn't deny was making him a little aroused. light kissed your jaw, roughly. as if light was capable of doing anything without roughness.

"last chance to back out." it's not a soft tone, but it does let you know that he won't be mad at you if you do decide you don't want some random creep watching you have sex with your friend.

you shake your head, you weren't going to let him down now. and to be totally honest, the thought of someone watching you in such a vulnerable position was intriguing to say the least. light began to undress you once you'd given him your final consent.

meanwhile, L watched his screen with wider eyes than normal. his eyes grazing every pixel of the screen as he watched light take off your shirt. neglecting the other screens that were broadcasting equally, if not more, important information. L racked his brain trying to figure out if this was just a trick of if he was really witnessing this dirty scene play out.

all your clothes were off in what seemed like a blink of an eye. pressed into the mattress with light's knee inches away from your heated core. you dumbly pull at his tie, fucked out expression but light hadn't even gotten started with you yet.

"you got any thoughts in there at all?" he smirks. silently gloating now that he knew he had every single person he knew wrapped around his godly finger. there was not a thought behind your blown out pupils. it prided light to know he had such an effect on you.

"i haven't even done anything yet." he furthers. and L was hearing all of it.

you paw at the waist band of his bland khaki pants. light chuckled feeling your shaky hands trying to get more of him. his rubs his hand over your chest, caressing your nipple with his pointer and thumb.

"patient girls get rewarded." he tsks. he's met with a whine to which he chuckles again. he knows L will over analyze and find something wrong with the scenario if he doesn't hurry up.

"you wanna get rewarded?" he unbuttons his pants with one hand. you're eager, desperate. you need hm in a way you didn't even know it was possible to want one of your friend.

he reaches over you, grabbing a condom from the book shelf. it was wedged between two books. clearly he was trying to keep it hidden from his maid of a mom and his nosy sister.

he opens the condom with his teeth and you might as well just have hearts in your eyes as you watch him. the wrapper falls somewhere unimportant on the bed. he rolls the condom on. you knew it was only a matter of time before you finally felt full with his cock.

© 2023 MORBIDEROTICA

[unknownplane]

The Court Jester Part 1

Yandere Batfam x GN Reader

Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4

"How did this happen?" the man who claimed to be my father asked.

"It started when I was young. My mother was close friends with Bruce Wayne. So when she died, he decided to take me in. Looking back on it now, I can tell it was just so he could have a piece of her even though she was gone. He, like many other men were infatuated with the idea of her and what could happen if they had her. That is how I came along. Someone couldn't keep their hands to themselves. Nobody, but my father knows that they are my father. We have tried finding him before, but there has been no luck.

I was 4 when I was brought to the manor. Bruce, overwhelmed with anguish, couldn't even look at me as I had my mother's features. Alfred showed me around. I even got to meet my new brother Richard, better known as Dick. An accurate nickname because as soon as he met me, he decided he did not want to be around me. That was fine. I was still dealing with the loss of my mother. As time went on, I felt as if I was forgotten. Bruce was busy throwing himself into "work" and he only needed Dicks help. It didn't take me long to figure out who he was. With all the bruises and tension around the house when things got bad in Gotham anyone living in that house could tell he was Batman. He had claimed he didn't want me to get hurt that's why he never asked for help but I knew it was because I looked like mom. I had her (h/c) (h/t) hair and her (e/c) eyes.

A couple of years later, a new boy came into the mix. His name was Jason Todd. He was okay. He didn't really know when to stop, though. I heard a lot of fights between him and Bruce. He talked to me sometimes when we had time. I was in school getting good grades and he was a Robin so we didn't have much time for each other. But then he died, and I had no one again. Even when he did come back, he came back changed he no longer cared for me. He was harsh. Ruined.

Then there was Tim Drake. He was really nice at the beginning, but he got busy and sleep deprived, so I stopped reaching out. I didn't want to take up his time as he had an actual job.

Then Stephanie Brown came, and I realized that there was a pattern. These people were too busy for me. I should stay out of their way and not be a burden as I have proven to be before.

It was like that until Damian came. He was unlike all the other Robins. He was mean and brutal. It was around this time that I started to reach out to the family. I had realized I had severe depression and self esteem issue from being the only one in this family that did not excel at anything. When I reached out, he was the one who but me back in my place. He was the one who told me to stay in the background where I belonged. And I might have if I was still the child that came here unwillingly at 3 years old, but I am no longer that child. I am an adult who has a degree in psychology and has a stable job. So I left.

When I first moved out, the first person I told was my online friend. I had been in contact with him since I was 5. He was like a father to me. He was very happy for me and told me, "You are finally free from that dreadful house!" and I couldn't agree more. I stayed in contact with him over the years, and our bond strengthened.

Then, one day, not even a month after I left the manor, he asked to meet up. I agreed. We met up at an abandoned wearhouse. He had told me he was a wanted man, so I did not mind. When I saw him, my face lit up as did his. We talked about a lot of things that night. One of which was if I wanted to help him in his endeavor. Chaos. And I gladly agreed as I would do anything for him as he was my father.

He soon started training me. Making sure I could deal with pain and know how to fight. The first week was agony, but then we both realized something. No matter how badly I was injured, it never had reproductions as the injuries would heal almost supernaturally. So soon, we started experimenting. Of course, I still felt pain, but anything for my dad. We found that no matter what happened to me, I couldn't die.

Then, I became strong enough to take part in one of his acts. Which leads us to now. Dies that answer your question?" I say, looking into the desperate eyes of The Batman with an elongated smile. Glee shined in my eyes as I finally had his attention.

"But SHHHH dad doesn't want to know your secret identity! Says it would ruin all the fun!" I proclaim. My teeth are fully showing as I giggle.

"What did I do wrong?" Bruce whispers to himself. As if he didn't already know. This was all his fault, and now the last piece he had of (M/N) was out of reach.

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Hello!! This is my first time writing on Tumbler and just wanted to say Hi. Please let me know if you want this to continue. If it does, updates would probably be slow as I am in college and am using this as an artistic outlet. Thank you so much for reading!!

[girlkisser13]

being married to james "logan" howlett would include

• logan's protective nature is heightened when it comes to you. whether it’s shielding you from danger or simply ensuring you have a coat on a cold day, his instincts to keep you safe are always present.

• you and logan often go on adventurous trips together, from hiking through dense forests to exploring remote locations. he enjoys these moments of peace with you, away from the chaos of his usual life.

• logan isn’t the best with words, but he shows his love through actions. he’ll fix things around the house, cook breakfast, and take care of anything that might be bothering you without being asked.

• despite his rough exterior, logan appreciates the quiet moments with you. he loves sitting together by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey in his hand, enjoying the simple pleasure of your company.

• logan struggles with his past and often has nightmares or moments of doubt. you’ve become his anchor, the one person who can calm him down when the memories become too much. he never thought he’d find someone who could handle his darkness, but you’ve proven him wrong time and again.

• you’re one of the few people he allows himself to be vulnerable around. he shares his fears, his regrets, and his hopes with you. your relationship is built on mutual trust and understanding, a bond that he never thought he’d have in his life.

• logan has a dry sense of humor, and he loves to tease you in a lighthearted way. it might be a comment about how you can’t keep up with him on a run or how you hog the blankets at night. it’s his way of showing affection, and it always makes you smile.

• he’s not overly affectionate in public, but in private, he’s incredibly tender. he’ll wrap his arms around you from behind, nuzzle his face into your neck, and kiss the top of your head, murmuring how much you mean to him.

• logan is fiercely loyal to you. he would go to any lengths to protect and defend you, no matter the cost. You are the one constant in his chaotic life, and he values that more than anything.

• he often trains with you, whether it’s sparring or teaching you self-defense. it’s his way of ensuring that you’re capable of handling yourself if he’s not around. plus, he secretly enjoys watching you hold your own against him.

• logan can get a bit jealous, especially if he senses someone might be interested in you. his feral side can come out, and he’ll make it clear that you’re his. but you know how to calm him down, reminding him that he’s the only one for you.

• despite his rough exterior and sometimes gruff demeanor, he’s always gentle with you. whether it's holding your hand or helping you with something, he treats you with a level of care that shows how much he cherishes you.

• logan enjoys cooking, especially when it’s for you. you often cook together, and he loves watching you try to keep up with his culinary skills. there’s a playful competition between you two, but he secretly loves when you take over, especially if it’s a dish you’re passionate about.

• you both cherish the mornings when you wake up before the world does. he will brew coffee, and you’ll sit together on the porch, wrapped in a blanket, watching the sunrise. these quiet, peaceful moments are some of his favorites.

• logan is a bit of a wanderer, so sometimes you’ll pack up and just hit the road. these trips are spontaneous, often with no clear destination in mind. you’ll spend hours talking or sitting in comfortable silence, enjoying the open road and each other’s company.

• despite his rugged persona, he is surprisingly good at planning special dates. he’ll take you to a hidden spot in the woods for a picnic or to a little-known jazz club in the city. he knows how to make these moments feel intimate and unique, showing you just how much he cares.

• logan’s enhanced senses mean he’s very attuned to your scent. He finds comfort in it, and when you’re apart, he’ll wear one of your sweaters or keep something with your scent close to him. it grounds him and helps him feel connected to you even when you’re not physically there.

• he has a tattoo dedicated to you. it’s a personal symbol, something that reminds him of you and your love. it’s one of the few permanent things he’s ever had, and he likes the idea of carrying that piece of you with him always.

• logan isn’t much for texting or phone calls, so he leaves you handwritten notes around the house. they’re often simple, like "breakfast is ready" or "miss you, see you tonight," but they mean the world to you.

• he has moments of surprising tenderness. he’ll brush your hair out of your face, trace the outline of your features with his fingers, or cradle you in his arms like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

• logan loves reading, and the two of you often share books. you’ll recommend novels to each other, and he’ll surprise you with rare editions of your favorite books. it’s a quiet way of bonding, discussing the stories and characters over a glass of wine.

• the two of you have developed a way of communicating without words. a look, a touch, or even the slightest change in body language is enough for you to understand each other. it’s a testament to the deep connection you share.

• logan has an immense amount of patience when it comes to you. whether you’re upset, confused, or frustrated, he never loses his temper. he’s calm, steady, and supportive, knowing exactly how to help you through whatever you’re facing.

• he LOVES to surprise you with unexpectedly romantic gestures. he’ll bring you wildflowers he picked on his way home, or he’ll play a song on an old record player, pulling you into a slow dance in the living room. he’s not traditionally romantic, but his unique gestures show his deep love for you.

• logan is extremely vigilant in social settings, even if it’s just a casual gathering. he keeps an eye on your surroundings, making sure you’re comfortable and safe. if anyone makes you uncomfortable, he’s quick to intervene.

• despite his long life and all the losses he’s endured, logan dares to dream about a future with you. he talks about places he wants to take you, things he wants to experience together, and the kind of life you could build. you’re the first person who’s made him believe in forever. <33

[thebisexualdogdad]

One Piece preferences - how they tell you that they like you (GN!reader)

Luffy -

● Luffy is not one for shame or embarrassment yet he's always nervous around you

● he always awkwardly rambles when you're near him

● and he even asks if you want the last bite of food before he takes it for himself like usual

● he goes to Usopp first for advice which Sanji and Zoro overhears and tells him to ignore Usopp's terrible advice and listen to them instead

● which then Nami overhears and calls them all idiots and gives Luffy actually good advice

● Luffy finally tells you he likes you but rambles again while talking so you kiss him to shut him up

Nami -

● she doesn't

● you have to make the first move

● even when you do tell her you like her she makes you work for it

● "I'll go out with you when we find the one piece"

● "I'm holding you to that"

● a couple months later when she thinks you've proven yourself she sets two plates of food in front of you guys

● "what's this?"

● "we're on a date"

● "I thought you weren't going to go out with me until we found the one piece?"

● "I changed my mind now start eating before I change it again"

Sanji -

● He is very confident and makes it known he likes you the moment you meet

● He flirts with you the entire time you're eating in the baratie

● "Anything else I can get for you cutie? I've been told I make a mighty fine dessert, that is unless you want me for dessert instead"

● "just the check please sweet talker"

● he brings the check to you with his number written on the bottom

● "just so you know I do accept tips in the form of a date"

Zoro -

● no matter how much Luffy points out to Zoro that he likes you he refuses to acknowledge his feelings for you

● It's not until you get critically hurt in a fight that he finally admits to himself that he likes you

● you've been unconscious for days and he never leaves your side while you're recovering

● you wake up to him sitting at your bedside and you've never seen him look this worried

● "thank God I thought I lost you"

● "you saying you care about me Zoro?"

● "yes Y/N, I care you about you a lot so please don't do that to me again"

Usopp -

● always brings you flowers and little trinkets

● "I saw this in town and thought you'd like it"

● names one of his slingshot moves after you

● all around gentleman trying to woo you

● Zoro "you know he likes you right"

● "of course I know, I just think it's sweet how hard he tries"

● the first time you kiss him on the cheek to thank him for your gift he blushes so hard and nearly faints

● he goes around proudly telling everyone that you kissed him and that he's your boyfriend now

Buggy -

● puts on an entire show for you

● pulling out all of his best jokes and stunts

● making the crowd cheer extra hard

● he does a huge speech throughout the entire performance about how you two could conquer the world together

● and how he needs you by his side to be the best pirate he can be

● for his final trick he uses his powers to send his hand up to you with a bouquet of flowers

● "what do you say Y/N? Want to be my co captain?"

Shanks -

● whenever he's in town he tells you stories of his adventures over drinks at the bar

● and always gives you part of his treasure that his crew found on their recent voyage as gifts

● "You're really giving me this? Do you know how valuable it is?"

● "There's no treasure in this world that I value more than you"

● "well Shanks it sounds like you're trying to tell me that you like me"

● "I would travel the entire ocean for you my dear Y/N and I would love if you joined me on my next adventure"

Mihawk-

● Literally kills a guy for you

● you're complaining about some jerk you ran into at the bar

● he mumbles "he shall pay for disrespecting my Y/N" and excuses himself

● he returns a little bit later with the guys decapitated head in his hand and blood on his shirt

● "you said you had a problem with this guy so I killed him in your honor"

● "Oh thats… sweet"

● "I knew you'd be impressed. So, dinner?"

Cabaji -

● always tries to look cool in front of you

● doing tricks on his unicycle

● like riding it through a flaming hoop

● or having you stand on his shoulders while he cycles around the ring

● or putting someone on the spinning wheel and throwing knives at them landing impossibly close to their skin

● "that was cool wasn't it Y/N"

● "sure was Cabaji"

● "So what do you say you and I get drinks together sometime?"

[jarofstyles]

Growing Pains

Hey lovely people 🫶 here is a bit more of the Stacy’s Mom universe. Its a nice mix of angst, smut and fluff. Let me know what else you'd like to see from them if you'd like to see more!

Read Stacy’s Mom here

Check out our Patreon for early access and 180+ exclusive writings

WC- 5.9k

Warnings- smut, unprotected sex, age gap relationship, cream pie, bellybulging, praise kink, use of 'mama', angst, not too long tbh, mentions of misogyny, etc

-----

Harry was really good at ignoring what other people thought. 

It had always been one of those personality traits that people said they envied, but his whole life’s philosophy is why care if you’re happy? If he wasn’t hurting anyone, if he was happy and solid in what he was doing, why did it matter what someone else thought? 

He knew there would be inevitable pushback against him being in a serious relationship with Y/N. And it was serious, as he had made abundantly clear. It wasn’t at all conventional and in their small, gossip ridden town, it wasn’t a shock in the slightest that the rumor mill began buzzing as soon as they stepped out into town together for the first time, Harry taking her to dinner at a decent place of her choosing. 

Their dates had been majority in the towns over just so they could enjoy their little bubble of happiness. Y/N spent time at his place when Stacy was home for the first few weeks, Harry going to hers when she was away, but he had to assure her that he knew Stacy would be upset and he’d talk to her himself. 

It was a hard thing to navigate considering Y/N utterly adored her daughter. She’d been pushing her mother to go out on dates , get back out there, all of the girl power stuff since the divorce was finalized- but the woman highly doubted she meant with someone in her friend group. 

All things considered, the pros and cons had been weighed and juggled and there had been no reason to keep hiding it after two months in. For a bit, Y/N had been holding on to the secrecy because she was afraid he’d tire of her. That she’d damage her relationship with her daughter and in the town for a fling that the younger man would be bored with after a bit. It was unfair to think that of Harry, she knew that, but considering her ex husband had essentially done that very thing to her? It had lingered in the back of her mind. 

To his credit, Harry had been nothing but understanding and patient with her. He didn’t push too hard to go public, but he didn’t hide his desire for it either. Y/N was his, and he wasn’t ashamed of her in the slightest. He’d go up to bat for her again and again if it meant he got to keep her. The man wasn’t stupid- he knew a lot of the backlash would fall onto her. Something he’d happily take the burden of if he could. It was a conversation they revisited quite a few times, Harry holding her against him as his fingers traced the curves of her face while she expressed her fears. Luckily, it seemed that his feelings for her had proven it a worthy risk after he started talking more about the future. 

Maybe with anyone else it would be coming on too strong. Hell- it had come on too strong at first, spooking Y/N when he’d asked if she was open to having more kids. If she wanted to get married again. Both things she hadn’t given much thought to before he brought it up. It had sent her spiraling for a few days, worried that perhaps she wouldn’t be able to give him the things he needed. That he’d be throwing away his youth for her instead of exploring, that she would be essentially trapping him. Her worst fear was him resenting her for settling him down. 

It had caused their first fight, one of their only. His jaw had been tight when he showed up to her place after being ignored all day, arms crossed as she opened the door. He’d been dirty and sweaty from work, the sun hadn’t set yet but he had been worried sick when she had stopped replying after their initial good morning messages. 

“Are you alright?” Eyes scanned her all over to observe for sickness, injury, but found nothing. His features twisted as his eye scanned her pocket, jaw ticking when he saw the phone sitting inside of it. “What's the problem?” He asked lowly. “Worried me fuckin’ sick all day, but I see the phone in your pocket. Don’t play those games with me, Y/N. You’re a grown woman and that’s part of why m’so gone for you.” 

She blanched, swallowing the lump in her throat as she dropped her eyes. “I…” a shaky inhale interrupted the chirping crickets. “I don’t want to hold you back, Harry. I don’t want you to wake up one day, thinking about how you wasted the rest of your twenties on me. How… how you jumped in feet first, landing hard and buckling your knees because I’m exciting for a while.” It hurt to even think about, let alone say out loud. “I’m terrified that you’ll hate me for it. I think we’re going too fast.” 

Harry didn’t answer for a moment. All she heard was a sharp exhale, seeing him tip his head back in her peripheral vision. Like he was exhausted, trying to collect himself before speaking. Rolling his neck, he looked back at her. “So you’ve worked yourself up over a situation that hasn’t even happened. That won’t happen, considering I’ve been thinking about having you since we fuckin’ met. Is that right?” He sounded mad because he was. Frustrated, more so, at the situation. He’d been able to feel her pulling away a little bit the last few days but he’d felt that sickness in his stomach the whole day when she had been quiet and not responsive to his messages. 

It wasn't like he was a super clingy guy. He knew that he could be in person, he liked to be touchy, but he rarely expected constant communication. Y/N was her own woman and he liked that about her, but this wasn’t something he was a fan of. 

The tone of his voice made her reel back, eyes snapping up to him at he looked at her with an irritated expression. He never spoke to her like that, let alone looks at her like she was being ridiculous. It wasn’t a nice feeling in the slightest. “Let’s be honest here, Harry.” Her irritation rose. “Yeah, I’ve worked myself up over a situation that could realistically happen. It’s one thing to fuck older women, but it’s another to settle down and be in a committed relationship with one.”

It was the wrong thing to say, simplifying their relationship like that, and she knew it. His nostrils flared as he looked at her with slight disbelief. “S’that all we’ve been doing, Y/N? Fucking?” He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “Cause I was under the impression that you were my girlfriend and we were figuring it out. Silly fucking me then. Just a little boy, huh?” 

“No- Harry, don’t you do that.” She growled back. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that I could be a lot of fun right now but later on down the line it maybe won’t be. Ill slow down faster than you, I’ll get wrinkles before you, I won’t be able to keep up-“

“And you know what I’ll do then?” He stepped closer to her. “I’ll slow down with you. I’ll get wrinkles too. I could be bald. Are you gonna leave me if my hair starts to thin?” 

“N-no.” She whispered, wind leaving her sails as she replied. 

“Yeah; I know you wouldn’t. Just like you should know I wouldn’t.” There was a pregnant pause, the warm early evening stinging her skin because, fuck. She was just terrified. 

“I wouldn’t. I’m not like him, and I know he… I know there’s that underlying trauma and stuff there. I know and m’so sorry an ass like that ever got his hands on you at all. But please try and see that I’m not him. There is no boredom. If there ever was- which there wouldn’t be- I’d come to you, I’d talk to you. I’d never cheat on you.” Stepping closer to her, his fingers curled around her cheeks, searching her face for something she couldn’t place. Apparently he found it, though, because his shoulders dropped and he nudged her face up in his grip, thumbs rubbing her the apples of her cheeks.

 “I’ve dreamed of you for years, Y/N. If I’d get tired of you, I’d have done it already. But honestly?” Licking over his bottom lip, he pinned his gaze to hers. “I don’t see how that’s even remotely fucking possible. You’ve become everything t’me so quickly it should be scary, but m’not anything but ecstatic. Giddy. Please give me some credit. I’m younger than you, but I’m not stupid. I know exactly what I’m doing. I’ve got the most incredible, intelligent, kind, generous, beautiful woman in my hands. Do you think I didn’t get a little nervous at first?” 

No, actually. No she didn’t. Harry hadn’t even hinted at it, but it grabbed her interest, confusion marring her features. To be truthful, he’d never seemed to waver when it came down to her and this relationship. “I didn’t.” She admitted, feeling a bit of shame for not even considering it. 

“Before I went for it, I was… it was hard to tell if you’d be alright dating someone so much younger than you. If you’d think I could handle you.” He smiled sadly. “There were a few times I was going to try and get you alone t’talk about it but fate was in my hands when you called me that night. I was over the fuckin’ moon, but still nervous. It made me feel better when I could tell you were looking at me, that I wasn’t makin’ it up in my head like I’d originally thought. And then…” his lip curled in a smirk at the memory of taking her against the counter. It was one of his favorite memories of all time. “Then I was pretty settled, but there were still nerves that you’d push me away like this. I thought I was in the clear this far along, that I’d proven how much m���utterly enamored with you but it seems I’ve got work to do.” 

The anger was gone from his body, replaced with a sadness. He didn’t like the thought of her hemming and hawing over if he would get bored of her when he constantly needed to pinch himself over the knowledge that she was his. “I just need to reassure you that since I was a kid, I’ve been set in my ways. I still like the same food as I did as a child, the same shows, the same music. If I really like something? It’s there to stay.” He wasn’t obtuse. Of course relationships had their issues and there was no expectation of perfection 24/7, but he wanted to keep it as peaceful as he could. 

Y/N’s face scrunched, bottom lip trembling as tears glossed over her eyes. It was embarrassing to cry over this, but the words were the reassurance she had desperately needed. “I’m sorry.” The apology was a little whimper before he sighed, pulling her into his body. Large hand running up and down her back, the woman leaned into the comfort of the larger man and relaxed into his form, burying her face in his neck. He still smelled like a bit of oil and sweat but his sweet and fresh soap lingered underneath, giving her the comfort she hadn’t known she needed so badly all day. 

“S’okay, darling. Let’s go inside and sit for a bit, hm? We’ve got t’talk a bit more about what’s bothering you.” 

And they did. They talked for hours that day, Harry holding her legs across his lap as he watched her express the fears she’d been holding back. In all honesty he knew it had needed to happen to make them stronger, and it did. 

It was showing a bit tonight, though. 

“What’s the matter?” His voice was delicate as his palm ran over her hip, curling his fingers into the soft shirt. “Hm? You’re bein’ awfully quiet tonight. Can tell something’s bothering you.” 

Y/N still was shocked at how perceptive the man could be. He seemed to know the slightest shift of her mood and  it had spooked her a bit at first, but now she realized she couldn’t hide much from him. Perhaps it was her own life lesson that she needed to trust someone, but still. 

“It’s silly.” She sighed softly, reaching a hand up to cup his stubbly chin. The comfort of his touch had only gotten stronger since they’d gotten together, the mixture of feeling delicate in his hold but empowered considering she knew he would move the moon if she asked him to. 

“Not silly if you’re thinking about it.” He clicked his tongue. “Off with it then, pretty girl.” 

“It’s… one of those women, the one you slept with from Stacy’s swim club… she was awfully bitter about us being together. Tried to tell me that I was just a phase of yours- which, I see your eyebrows, I know that isn’t true and that isn’t why I’m upset.” She laughed quietly, gently pinching his cheek. “I just couldn’t believe the audacity of her. Trying to tell me how passionate you are in bed, doing all sorts of catty things… I know she’s jealous, I’m rational enough to deduce that she’s just a bit crazy but it irritated me that she talked as if you’re some sort of object. Like you’re… an accessory or something.” 

Y/N had found herself very defensive of the man in the months they’d been together, and while she was aware he had slept with other woman, she hadn’t expected them to be so awful about him. 

“Darling…” Harry chuckled, shaking his head at the thought. “To her, I am an object. I gave her nothing of me besides physicality. And I can assure you, it wasn’t very passionate. It couldn’t hold a candle to you. In all honesty, I haven’t thought about another woman in months. Forgot about her, actually.” Harry had no woman on his radar except her. He was so utterly smitten with the woman in front of him that he knew he would never think of another woman in any sort of way again. 

“Yeah. It is silly, because I know you’re devoted to me-“

“And I am, Mama.” He purred, his hand gently tugging on the ends of her hair to lean it back to where he wanted it. “I’m completely and utterly devoted to you. You’re my goddess, didn’t you know that?” The hushed voice made her swallow thickly, the hand on her hip pushing under her shirt. “There is no one else I think about. They don’t exist to me. The only woman occupying my brain is you.” Lips pressed against her forehead, exhaling slow and heavy through his nose. “I’m obsessed with you. Don’t you know?”

“I-I do.” She stuttered. Somehow, the man years younger than her had a way of completely making her fall back into the shy younger girl she used to be. Giggly and giddy, shy when he would express such sweet things to her. Her ex had never been this verbally kind to her, let alone wax on about how much he adored her. It still shocked her. 

“Mm… good. Because I have no problem reminding you, baby. None at all.” His nose brushed hers, letting their breathing mingle. “I’ll be happy to remind you every single day that you’re the woman of my dreams and the other people I’ve been with don’t exist to me. They’re nothing compared to you. My dream girl.” 

Y/N took the first bite, pulling him down to kiss her. It was a need now, not even just a want. She needed to feel him, to taste him. It was still new to her, how adored he made her feel, and all she could do was hope he knew she felt the same. “H….” She whispered, breaking apart from their kiss as his hand slipped under the waistband of her shorts, wiggling down to cup her ass. 

“Hm?” He chuckled lowly. “Do you need me to remind you, Mama? Want me to show you just how obsessed I am with you?” 

The woman didn’t want to need that reassurance, but she really did enjoy a reminder considering she knew how he was going to give it to her. “I think I could use a refresher, yeah.” She replied, watching his grin grow before he kissed her again, hauling her body up and into his arms. Ignoring the squeal, he brought her into his bedroom, laying her on the sage green comforter and let his thumbs tug at the shorts. 

“I’ll give you as many refreshers as you need, my girl.” He hummed, letting his shirt follow and fall to the ground as Y/N followed suit. His eyes zeroed in to her panties, easily getting on his knees and grabbed her thighs to pull closer to the end of the bed. “S’been too long, hasn’t it? You’ve been mean and kept me away from my pussy.” He shook his head, kissing over the fabric. 

“I was on my period!” She squeaked, watching his fingers curl into the waistband of her panties. 

“And?” He lifted his eyes to her own. “Told you that it doesn't matter t’me. Put down a towel.” He wouldn’t mind in the slightest. Even more so because he knew it would potentially help cramps, but he respected her decision to not want to. 

“Oh god….” Her head fell back as his tongue licked over the sligh through the fabric, wetting it. “Harry… you can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack.” He assured. “It’s your decision, but M’just saying it doesn’t gross me out and I don’t care. But now you’re off of it, and M’gonna take full advantage of that.”

Y/N gasped as the panties were tugged off in a hurry, so fast she had barely realized they were gone before his face was buried in her pussy. “Oh my g-god, H.” She laughed in shock, though it quickly melted into a moan as he pressed his tongue over her and let his nose brush her clit. 

He had never been anything but thorough when it came to oral sex, and she had the knowledge that he thoroughly enjoyed it too. She would even contemplate if he liked it more than her, but it was hard to confirm that when she had the pleasures of his mouth. 

Harry hummed at the taste of her, slowly peeling her thighs to the side and using a finger to spread her open. “There she is. I missed this pussy, baby.” He mumbled, the sheen of her and his spit on his lips. “How could you think of me with anyone else when I can barely go four days without this, hm? Don’t you know how addicted I am?”

She had some clue. A shaky exhale left her as she watched him purse his lips, a string of spit dribbling over her exposed cunt. Somehow he made it so hot, it had become one of her favorite things. A trigger of sorts. She’d never imagined herself liking any sort of spitting, but there was something so filthy and carnal about the way he did it that she found herself squirming and wanting more each time. 

“I know you like that, baby. My sweet girl, like when m’dirty and spit on this cunt to get it wet.” He crooned, repeating the action. He watched as the spit dribbled down to her asshole, humming in satisfaction. “You don’t need the help, not with how drenched this cunt gets for me but you like it when m’filthy with you.” 

Y/N loved how Harry was in bed. From going to somewhat pleasant missionary to completely and utterly wrecked by a man who wanted nothing more than her pleasure, it had been a complete 180 and quite frankly, rocked her damn world. “I do. I like when you’re dirty and you act like you… act like you can’t get enough.”

“Oh Mama, I can’t.” He cooed. “I can’t get enough of this perfect pussy. Obsessed with it, obsessed with you. You know I think about it all day?” His thumb drew slow, firm circles on her clit, making her buck into him a little bit. He ignored it. “Think about when I get to get to you, how all I want t’do is tear whatever’s covering you up and make you sit on my face. You do love when I do that.” 

Oh, did she fucking ever. The man was relentless with his tongue but he became a whole other beast when she sat on his face. In an area she’d been reluctant to, she had become reliant on.  

“Please… I want to cum.” She pleaded. Days after the cycle she was particularly sensitive and the man knew that far too well. 

“Then cum.” He smiled, licking over her entrance. “M’never going to say no to making my girl orgasm. But you’re gonna just keep cumming and cumming, so remember that.”

Y/N had found herself well acquainted with orgasms after years of being reliant on herself for them, but it never ceased to amaze her how the man could play her body like a violin and almost demand her orgasm. How he knew the right spots, the right tricks. No one had taken the time to get to know the things she liked quite like him, and she knew this was a rarity. Her stomach tightening, toes curling as he played with her body like he was the expert in all things pleasure.

The combination on his thumb rubbing her sensitive clit and his tongue pressing into her hole, she could feel the orgasm wash over her. Hands in his hair, she let out a broken moan, the first of many she assumed he’d give her tonight. And just like she suspected, even after the orgasm had dulled slightly, he kept going. 

“Harry, fuck.” She gasped, feeling fingers inside of her cunt and his mouth switching to circling her clit. One thing she’d learned was that he was relentless, especially when it came to making her cum.

“What baby?” He grinned mischievously. It didn’t matter that his face was filthy with her, he seemed to prefer it that way. “S’not my fault I need this pussy. You’re too perfect.” 

For the first time in her life, she was being doted on. There wasn’t a single question in her mind that Harry really was as obsessed with her as he portrayed because there was no way he could fake it this good. Tongue dipping into her entrance and thumbing her clit, working her through another before she successfully tugged him off to meet her mouth. 

Frantic hands tugged at his belt, yanking hard as he chuckled against her lips. “Eager, aren’t we?” He cooed. “C’mon then, Mama. Take me out so I can fuck you the way your greedy little cunt needs.” 

The filth that came out of his mouth was better than any of the sex she had prior to him. His unashamed nature and insistence on honesty had been intimidating at first but now she had come to crave the crass words that used to make her blush so hard it hurt. “I need it.” She whimpered, her own voice unfamiliar to her as she whined at him to get inside of her. Unbuttoning his trousers and slipping her hand inside, she felt how hot and hard he was on her palm. The tip wetting her skin as she stroked him under the fabric, the other hand trying to push the pants down so he was free of the confines. 

“Impatient little thing. I love it.” He grinned, helping her as he balanced over her with one arm. “Can barely let me undress, need to get your beautiful body filled up with me in every way. That’s exactly how I want you every day.” Desperate for him. His hips rubbed into her hand, breathing getting harder as she swiped her thumb over the tip and made him clench his jaw. Her little outfit had been tossed off easily and there was something so dirty about him fucking her almost clothed and her, practically naked. “Put me in, then. You can do it, baby.” 

There was that added layer of intimacy that had her preening, sticky lips connecting with hers as she felt his hips lower and gave her that little bit of control. Swiping the tip through her slickness, he inhaled sharply through his nose before she placed him at her entrance, lifting her leg around his waist. His patience was thin, not waiting more than a few moments before sinking into her. Swallowing her whine as he slipped his hand under her neck to hold it, licking into her mouth until he was balls deep in her. Filling her up to the brim with him, making her feel that sort of full that only he could provide. 

“God…” Y/N whined, leaning her head back into the bed as Harry pulled out slowly, letting her feel every ridge of his cock before pushing back in hard. “You’re…” it was hard to talk at times when he fucked her. While he could run his mouth, Y/N had her mind scrambled as soon as he slipped into her. His dick made her feel drunk and in love. 

“Mhm, I know.” He soothed, though the smug look on his face made his thoughts clear. He loved that she was cockdrunk and fuzzy from her orgasms, wet and soft for him and welcoming his thickness inside of her. It was made for him. “You don’t even have a clue of how much I thought about this, my girl. Don’t even know the filth I’d think of seeing you in those pretty fucking sundresses- fuck.” He growled, the weakness for them evident. She’d noticed it early on, how he’d been exceptionally handsy when she wore them. Maybe she had five new ones since she’d found out- he would see them eventually. 

“What did you… what did you think about?” Poking the bear wasn’t usually her thing, but his mouth was sex itself. Being fucked slow and deep as he spoke about his fantasies of her was something she couldn’t pass up. 

“Things that are so dirty, it would make you squirm.” He mumbled, grinding himself inside of her. The wet walls around him clenched up as she looked at him with her hazy eyes, fingers tangled in his necklace. “Thought about taking you to his old office and bending you over that desk. Fucking you nice and deep with my hand over your mouth while everyone else was in the pool, go back out with my dick covered in you.” The cunt around him clamped down, alerting him to just how much his girl liked that idea. “You like that? Would you have done it for me, sweet girl? Let me hike up that skirt and make you keep watch at the window to make sure no one was coming inside? Because… I really wouldn’t care if someone heard.” 

Y/N knew it was fucked up to like the idea of being caught by her daughters friends while being fucked by one, but he had  this way of framing it that made her feel it to her bones. His thick cock hitting the right places as he spoke about a fantasy she wouldn’t mind participating in. “I’d probably be shocked and- and I’d probably let you. It had been so long and you’re so gorgeous…” she swallowed. “I knew you’d be able to fuck me good when I had those hints.” 

Those catching glimpses of him eyeing her up, or seeing how he gave her all his attention when she spoke. How he’d always help her out in the kitchen and chat with her while the rest of the group was involved in other things- letting his hand brush her or his body squeeze past her. He’d given signals. 

“Fuck.” His head dropped against hers, pulling out and giving a particularly deep thrust, making her clutch his arm. “Yeah? You’d let me fuck you like that? Filthy little thing, Mama. You amaze me…” the idea of her being fucked in her ex husband’s home office was a delicious fuck you to him and empowerment to her. Let a man who could properly make her cum and multiple times at that, show her how sexy she was to him. 

Y/N connected their lips again as she nudged him, signaling him to let them roll over. Harry was never one to tell her no when she wanted something, let alone when she wanted to ride him. “Would you let me sit in his chair, ride me like this?” Hands grabbed at her plush hips, helping her grind on top of him. “I’d take you anywhere, baby. Make you feel good wherever and however you want. You don’t even know how gone I am for you.” 

In some instances Harry’s honesty had her a bit nervous, but when it came to things like this? She was ever so fucking thankful he was an open book with her. There was no shortage of reassurance, no hiding how he felt. The man was as up front and honest as someone could be and after she got over how overwhelming it could be, she relished in how she never had to guess. Harry never made her wonder how he was feeling, if he was mad, if he liked what she was doing. He let her fucking know, loud and clear, and the anxiety she used to experience in her last relationship in that regard was practically nonexistent. “Me too. I am too, I promise.” She nodded, grinding herself down on his cock. 

Harry’s thighs and balls were going to be sticky and wet by the time this was done but he was craving that. Having her traces all over his skin was something he had come to look forward to, to look at as another part of the erotic package that was his girl. Hands held her hips as he helped guide her, head tipped back to watch the pleasure flash on her face. “It’s deep, isn’t it Mama?” He crooned. “Do you feel it in there? Fuck, I can see it…” His deep groan echoed in her room as he took his hand and placed it right over her belly. Felt each time she moved on him, his mouth falling open as he tugged her hand to feel it. “Right there. That’s how deep I am. My perfect fuckin’ girl, got me tucked in your belly like that…” His voice was wrecked, trying to ignore how tight it made his balls but that was an impossible feat. 

“Oh fuck… Oh fuck, you’re so deep in me.” Y/N sulked, brows furrowing as his hand kept hers on the spot, feeling it each time she sunk back down. “You’re… Harry, please.” Her eyes budding with tears, she rocked hard on his lap and knocked her head against his. “Cum in me, right there. I want it deep, I want it to stay there. Please, please… Please, H.” 

The pleading was so fucking hot that he could have keeled over. This object of his affections getting his dick as deep as possible, pleading with him to cum in her cute little tummy and tightening her cunt over him like the idea of it was the best thing her body had ever fathomed… He was the luckiest sonofabitch that got to live. Feeling the silky, scorching walls of her cunt clenching around him like it was begging for the same thing her mouth was, he couldn’t hold it back. 

The broken groan left the man’s mouth while she hurriedly humped over him, Whimpering against his cheek, her mouth fell open as she felt each and every ribbon of cum heat her up, slicking up her insides with his orgasm. Her hand fell away and covered his as he felt her grinding get sloppy, her clit rubbing against the thatch of hair right above his cock. It was messy, sloppy, unpracticed, but so fucking good she felt like she could pass out. Repeating his name as she came, her nails scratched over his bicep, using his cock like a toy to work herself through the orgasm. 

“There you go, baby. You’re so perfect.” He whispered, pulling her back and licking into her mouth. There was no denying that the man could kiss in any scenario, but when he was balls deep and she was full of his cum, his kisses were some of the hottest she had ever felt. In truth, she hadn’t realized a kiss could be that hot until he’d done it the first time. She whined as he sucked over her tongue, keening into his mouth as her tired body started to slow her grinds and sat with him snug inside of her. Even with a taste of him, she wasn’t properly done with him. “Fuck- stay there. Keep my cock warm.” He muttered, stroking the messy hair from her cheeks with his fingers. His body was sticky with sweat and her arousal, his own mix leaking from her and onto the bed, but there was no rush to go anywhere. 

“God.” Y/N exhaled shakily, resting her head against his neck. Words escaped her as she tried not to get too excited again with the weak twitches of his prick she could feel.

“That’s okay, but I prefer Harry.” The smirk was audible in his voice, but she didn’t have the energy to roll her eyes. The large paw of a hand ran up and down her back, the heartbeat still felt in her ears. “I’ll never get tired of that.” The second sentence was sincere. The man always did seem in awe after they finished having sex, like he couldn’t believe he’d gotten to this point. 

“Me either.” She muttered, keeping her eyes closed as she cuddled into him. He still had the scent of coffee on him, maybe a hint of cigarettes, but the comforting one outweighed the rest of them. Y/N hadn’t had a man like him before but she knew now that he was exactly what she’d been missing. Even if he had grease on his tee shirts, sometimes smelled like oil, and had a bit of a grumpy attitude- he’d always put her first. He’d work with his hands to build up the world for her instead of buying it. He had the skill and follow through to do so. “I wanna do it again.” 

“Christ, woman. I’ve made a monster out of you, haven’t I?” His tired chuckle made her grin against his throat, pecking over the hollow of it. “You’re gonna regret that later, but m’not gonna say no.” Flipping her over to lay on her back, her eyes met his again as he smiled down at her. “C’mon, Mama. Tell me what you want me to do next.”

[chxrryhansen]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s Cevans One Shot Rec List

here you will find all of my favourite chris evans + characters fanfiction recommendations, i have many more to add and will continue to update this list. Please don’t forget to reblog these amazing writers fics as they deserve so much love!💘💘

Walk On The Wild Side - @hansensgirl

you just wanted to go for a stroll down the road—but he wants you to take a walk on the wild side. (Dark!Chris Evans)

You Better Not Pout, Better Not Cry - @hansensgirl

they know if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake. (Dark!Multi character) - i would add every single one of her fics to this list if i could💘

Sinful Devotion - @evansbby

Lloyd promises to let you go, but he demands a depraved repayment. (In other words, Lloyd pops your cherry)- my favourite writer in the whole universe💘

Smothered With Bliss - @whereireid

Is it hard being married to the most influential man in America? You most certainly think it is. — Steve Rogers: Captain America, the heart of his nation, the soul of his country. After returning home from a particularly bad day at work, Steve finally snaps, deciding you need re-educating on how to be the perfect housewife.

The Night - @misshoneybee

Working as the Barber family's nanny is a piece of cake, but what happens when the dad you've been tip-toeing around all year comes home late one night to find you asleep in his bed, wearing his favorite sweater?

Little Miss Red - @anika-ann

Ransom’s looking for a good time tonight, when you walk through the door, he knows he’ll get it. And you? Oh you’ll get it too. He's going to make sure of it.

Unholy Errand - @buckets-and-trees

You're caught in the crosshairs when a hit goes out for your boss. (Dark!Lloyd Hansen + Dark! God The Bounty Hunter + Ransom Drysdale)

What A Shirt Can Tell - @justalonelyslytherin

5+2 times Colin asked 'Is that my shirt?' plus the one time he got asked it. Aka a look through the journey of Colin and his girl, each in which his shirts play an important role.

Start Again - @wkemeup

A chemical spill, uncontrollable desires rushed to the surface, an unbridled need, and the consequences in the aftermath (Steve Rogers)

Daddy’s Little Pet - @sinner-as-saint

You and Steve are the epitome of ‘opposites attract’. He is the American hero, a super soldier who is known for his bravery, and righteousness and for being the one leading the Avengers. You, on the other hand, are a well-known fashion designer in the city. Creator and owner of your own brand, and elite boutique. At first glance, it doesn’t seem like you and Steve would be compatible. But you surprisingly are. And behind closed doors, in secrecy – you two are each other’s solace, each other’s definition of home. He’s your strong, loving and caring man. And you, his lovely, little pet whom he adores more than life itself.

Good Girls And Skype Calls - @youre-deadangel

chris gives you a treat for behaving.

Afternoon Delight - @christowhore

you're steve's live-in housekeeper and find your boss and his friends having a bbq on a heatwave stricken afternoon. they invite you to join them and show you all the pleasurable ways to cool down from the sun. (SoftDark!Steve Rogers + Sam Wilson + Bucky Barnes)

Got You - @hispeculiartreasure

The two of you had grown close over the last year; first as teammates, then as friends. You had been distant at the start, just as he had. Slowly, agonizingly - blood, sweat, and tears were definitely involved - walls were dismantled. A current of trust ran between you, one which caught Steve by surprise. As dense as he could be about matters of the heart, suspicions of his blossoming romantic feelings being mutual had proven true with a simple kiss. (Sex Pollen, Steve Rogers)

Golden Boy - @bucksfucks

you’ve always called steve the golden boy, but he snaps one night and decides to show you he’s anything but. (Roommate!Steve Rogers)

It Must Be That Old Evil Spirit - @vonalyn

There’s something unsettling about his demeanor but you can’t quite put your finger on it. As if there’s something hiding beneath the surface just waiting to pry its way out of the tight shirt across his broad frame and tear your throat out. Maybe it’s your general unease around others when you’re traveling alone, or maybe it’s just him.  (Jack-O-Lantern!Ari Levinson)

Stupid Kitty - @onsunnyside

Your father wrongfully entrusted Lloyd to care for you—it’s too bad he’ll never get you back. (Lloyd Hansen x Cat-Hybrid!Reader)

Manners- Or Lack Of Them - @rogerswifesblog

Ransom wants you, the sweet girl at the bar…but you’re not what he expected you to be. (Sub!Ransom Drysdale + Mommy!Reader)

Shadow Boxer - @mypoisonedvine

you’re stuck in the same destructive cycle with ransom, but maybe you don’t want to get out of it. (Angst + Smut, Ransom Drysdale)

It’s Not A Challenge - @gagmebucky

His jaw ticks. “It’s not a challenge, doll,” he bites out. “It’s a warning. If I tried to get inside you, I’d split you in half in the process.” His eyes flicker down, and your nipples are pebbles against the thin, easily-rippable fabric—you’re testing him, and he’s failing. “Goddamn it,” he hisses underneath his breath. “That - that shouldn’t turn you on.” Bristling, he drops his hand and pedals backward—he’s on his last thread, and it’s his sole chance to make a clear-headed decision. (Boxer!Steve Rogers)

Pretty Princess - @frostironfudge

Andy Barber gets jealous when he presumes you shared a room with one of his associates.

Over And Over - @frostironfudge

Ari Levinson is a possessive man, he'll punish you till you apologise.

Such A Good Boy - @lilacevans

You and Ari attend a business meeting, and at the beginning the other boss you're meeting with just assumes that Ari is the one in charge; however, that's not the case. While you look dainty, angelic, like you couldn't even hurt a fly, you're the one who runs the family and will not hesitate to fuck up anyone who stands in your way. (Puppy!Ari Levinson) - one of my favourite fics EVER.💘

Breathe - @buckyownsmylife

The one where the new co-star is obsessed with the idea of making Chris hers, but he makes sure to show her you’re the only one for him.

Justified - @dbnightingale24

Ransom has always been the center of your world you’ve always been the center of his. However, when he can’t change his ways and you’re tired of the heartbreak, is it really so bad if you think it’s best to walk away? Ransom thinks so. - one of the sweetest most talented writers i have ever met💘

My, My, My - @1800jjbarnes

Stevie couldn't help it. Every time he saw you, he felt himself grow heavy in his slacks. You were everything he needed. And he needed you now.

All The Time - @geminixevans-stan

He is one of the most powerful men on earth but there’s more worse than him (Dark!Lloyd Hansen + Dark!Nick Fowler)

Snack - @katherineswritingsblog

he just wants his snack- which is you.

Watchful Eyes - @espinosaurusrexex

When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself. (CEO!Steve Rogers)

Cherry On Top - @dcllbows

you’ve found your favorite way to help your daddy with his grownup work. (Ddlg, Daddy!Andy Barber)

Voracious - @arilevinsons

The first time he set eyes on you; you were his sudden infatuation. (DarkProfessor!Ari Levinson)

Best Friend’s Dad - @imyourbratzdoll

you've been pining over your best friend's dad and decide to take your chance, knowing he's out and your best friend is asleep, you be a little bit naughty and touch yourself on his bed, not knowing he's coming home early.

The Breeding Ground - @fl0werfae

To others, Ari’s house was a breeding ground for him and his omega, but to him it was just fulfilling her purpose of carrying his pups. (Alpha!Ari Levinson)

My Sweet Pea - @mavsstar

Mr. Levinson lives right next door to you, the sweet, innocent college girl. Little do you know that you're Mr. Levinson's favorite neighbor. He's there every chance you need the slightest of help, maybe a little too much. (Trailer Park Au)

Like A Movie Scene In The Sweetest Dream - @worksby-d

Johnny’s always been on your “no” list, but you've finally agreed to work with him. (Pornstar!Johnny Storm)

Easy As Pie - @navybrat817

You bake pies for Andy, but you're still his favorite treat.

[mikkomacko]

Him and I- Loose Ends

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Reader, Mob Boss! Nico

Warnings: smut, violence, weapons, mentions of blood, alcohol use

Previous chapter

A/n: Just as a PSA for my own piece of mind, the characters that are Nico’s family in this story do not at all reflect them in real life. They only share names and looks, and I am in no way making claims or assumptions about who they are in real life. Whoo, now that that’s out there, I hope yall enjoy and please let me know your thoughts!

Thanks!

____________________________________________

Nico’s always been a simple man.

It doesn’t take much to keep him happy. All he ever wanted was his own life, his own business. And while the execution of that wasn’t necessarily simple, once he did it, it was all a piece of cake.

His favorite days were the ones where he got up, met up with Timo for a morning run and breakfast or coffee, and then went into work. Didn’t matter the job or place he was at for the day, all that mattered is that he was getting to work with his best friends in a new city he loved.

He thinks he’s gotten even simpler since meeting you. He’s got a lot of favorite things now, all of which revolve around you. The smell of your hair after an everything shower, the way your hand feels in his. The color of your lips and how it feels when they kiss him, how his whole body turns to goo. How your eyes sparkling when they look at him.

Even just the sound of you breathing next to him is enough.

“Nico,” He especially loves the way his name sounds coming from your lips.

So yeah, Nico is a simple man.

“Shh baby,” he breathes into your temple, “I’ve got you.” He’s simple in the way that all he needs, all he’s ever going to need is you. And he thinks this trip to his home has more than proven that.

Your fingers stroke through his hair, soft and gentle compared to the way your thighs are squeezing around his hips, knees biting into the bone. Flexing, you try to pull him in, to no avail. Nico laughs under his breath, calmly rocking back into your dripping pussy.

“Nico,” you whine again, a pathetic sound hiccuping directly into his ear. “Schoa, please.”

Pressing a kiss to the hinge of your jaw and then your lips, Nico rolls his hips back into you, dick twitching when your eyes roll back.

“Let me take my time,” he tells you, and you blink up at him with glossy eyes. You’re not gonna argue with him, not gonna demand he fuck you into the mattress. He knows (and loves) that you get whiny and blubbery during sex, no matter how he does it. So he doesn’t have to say it scoldingly, no he just has to talk sweet to you.

You love when he’s soft and sweet, preening and puckering your lips at him. Nico kisses you, lazy and lackadaisically, focusing more on the feeling of your lips rather than the feeling of your pussy clenching around him.

God he could die kissing you. Every bone in his body broken, every inch of skin battered and bruised, every sense destroyed. The most horrible death imaginable, and as long as you were there, kissing him, he wouldn’t care. He’d simply move on, wait for you impatiently in the next life just to do it all over again.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispers into the skin of your cheek, “so perfect, ya know that?”

Your fingers tug on his hair, the other tickling down the side of his ribs and he shivers, drops more of his weight into you.

“Shut up and let me come,” you reply, a teasing lilt in your tone. When he pulls back, you’re smiling, face sweaty and pink. “Please Schoa?”

Yeah, you’re perfect.

“Thought you were supposed to be sweet,” he taunts, kissing the corner of your mouth. Settling into the cradle of your thighs, he switches the pace to something slow and sensual, more grinding than anything else.

A broken moan touches his lips, the new pace adding more pressure to your clit than before.

“We both know you’re the sweet one,” you mumble, the words more spoken into the scruff of his cheek than the air around you two. He presses forward, knees digging into the mattress and you stutter out his name when his cock brushes that spongey spot.

“Just for you baby,” he swears, then he’s kissing you again, wiggling a large hand between the two of you. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing tender circles while he grinds into you, deep and slow.

Hips tilting up and thighs tightening around him, Nico swallows every broken whimper that leaves your lips.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty.” He pants into the kiss, eyes squeezing shut when his orgasm burns at the base of his spine and the pit of his stomach. “That’s my girl, give it to me baby.”

You tug at his hair, nails biting into his skin as he tips you over the edge. Warm and slick walls pulsing around his cock, Nico bites at the side of your neck as you milk his own orgasm out of him. He grinds through it, thighs sore and tired, hips aching from the way you were fighting him to go faster and harder earlier but he doesn’t care.

Everything feels so good now, so hot and sweet. He can’t tell where his limbs end and yours begin, or which heavy breaths are his or yours, or even which pounding heartbeat is his.

Perfect, you’re so fucking perfect.

Nico presses a sweet kiss of apology to the red bite mark he’s left on your throat, tilting his chin up to catch your lips. You kiss him back, humming contently.

“Marry me Nico,”

Blinking his eyes open, Nico looks down at you in confusion. He heard the words, feels them in his chest, but his brain is fighting to comprehend them. Especially here, like this.

“W-what?”

“I said no last time and then it got fucked up,” you explain, dropping your hand to feel his chest, pressing into the skin like you’re trying to touch his heart. “I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for you, I don’t want to wait anymore.”

It takes his breath away- you take his breath away. He could say yes, lean down to kiss you and tell you he already has colors and flowers picked out. He could get out both of his rings and take you to the courthouse right now. It’d be a dream come true.

But it wouldn’t be what you deserve.

“Well you’re gonna have to,” he answers quietly, a loving smile on his face. He doesn’t have to worry about you taking it the wrong way because you know him. You’re the other side of the same coin, always right there with him. “Because I’m doing this right.”

You pout, blink up at him sadly but you’re still smiling. Glowing, radiating, whatever you want to call it. “Fair enough, I suppose.”

“You suppose?” He chuckles, kissing at the corner of your mouth. “How do you know about the other one anyway?”

“Timo told me,” you mumble, then pause like you’re thinking. “He also told me to say no to any proposal in which someone is naked and/or you’re inside of me.”

Nico laughs. “Two-for-two this time huh?”

“Yeah,” you giggle, eyes going tender and warm as they examine every inch of his face. “I really am sorry about that day Nico.”

The air shifts, any playfulness or teasing that existed before being sucked up and out of the room. Nico swallows heavily, heart thumping in his throat. It hurts him to think that his carefully timed and planned proposal got hijacked, but he doesn’t blame you. He could never blame you.

It just wasn’t meant to be that day.

“It’s not your fault,” he promises. “And m’not too torn up about it, I swear. You and Timo are crazy if you think I don’t have a million different ways I want to ask you to marry me.”

Your eyes, still heavy with sleep, twinkle with intrigue. “Really? Like what?”

“Well a few of them resembled our current situation but if Timo is vetoing them…”

“Aw screw him,” you grumble jokingly. “I think we should explore said situations a little bit more.”

And they say Nico’s the dirty one. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, we do have all morning after all.”

Nico could’ve sworn he had plans for this morning but he can’t for the life of him remember what it was. Oh well, he’s got better places he could be.

~~~~

Luca, unlike Nico, has a lot of friends. And not just friends within the business, but like actual friends. People from school, people from hockey, people from just living his whole life in the same town.

It’s funny to see. Luca has his men working, stationed around the bar as security and extra security. Usually nights out and celebrations back in Jersey are with the boys. They’re yours and Nico’s friends, and unless they request time on the clock, Nico doesn’t make them work.

“Whoa,” Luke breathes, taking in the crowded bar. Casual, is what Nico told all of you. It’s a causal get together with friends. Luca being casual with this many people is mind blowing.

“How’d you end up being the anti-social Hischier?”

Nico glares at Jack, the look being answer enough for why Nico has a small circle. Ushering the group of them into the corner booth, away from the music and bar, you make all the boys sit down. Well, all except for Nico who stands by your side, arms crossed over his chest.

“Alright, I’m saying this once and only once,” you begin, making sure they’re all looking and listening. “Do not leave the bar tonight without telling someone. Unless Luca tells you that you can have a drink on him, you order on our tab. No going home with Luca’s friends,”

You pointedly look at Jack, who frowns in offense.

“We have a flight in two days. Which means first thing tomorrow we’re up and packing and cleaning up the house. No whining.”

Four heads bobble in agreement, intent eyes locked on yours.

“I don’t care how much you drink, I don’t care who you hang out with here in the bar. But best behavior and no fighting-“

“Especially you two.” Nico interjects, pointing a finger at Jack and Luke. “We clear?”

“Yes boss,” they say in unison. Easing up, you smile and nod towards the bar top and pool tables.

“Alright, go have fun.”

Like horses out of the gate the four younger boys trip over each other to scramble away from the table. Timo snickers as they go, tripping Mercer on his way but that does nothing to deter him.

“Hm she’s strict Neeky.”

Turning, Luca and Maja are behind you now, double fisting drinks. Maja has a couple of those sweet cocktails you’d had the last time you were here and your mouth waters when she holds the glass out to you.

“Good cop, bad cop,” Nico replies, taking the beer Luca is handing him. “She’s all talk, I’m execution.”

Catching the straw in your mouth, you take a sip. Nico holds his hand up and you high five him, not even having to look at each other. It makes Luca laugh, the way it seems rehearsed and you giggle too.

“Not enough hands for me, or what?” Timo complains, motioning to the drink Luca didn’t bring him. Luca laughs, lightly shoving at Timo and the two boys start bickering in Swiss German.

Lost on the conversation, you press into Nico’s side. “Neeky?” You grin, running your hand up and down his lower back. “Why didn’t I get to call you that?”

“They called me that when I was a baby.”

“And now, when you’re not a baby.”

He huffs, taking a swig of his beer. The question has been on your mind ever since you got here and heard him first answer to the name. You and Jack had been the ones to first call him Schoa, delirious and giggling in the bar after Timo called him Hischow. Those were his only nicknames, everything else was Nico or Hischier or boss.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “S’just an embarrassing childhood nickname I guess.”

Rising to your toes, you tuck your nose into the curve of his jaw. “I think it’s cute,” you punctuate the promise with a kiss to his neck.

“Yeah?”

“I like the Swiss bits about you,” you say, sipping your drink. Timo, still chattering with Luca and now Maja, raches out blindly and you hand it to him. The free hand lets you plaster yourself to Nico’s torso, hugging his slim waist. “I wish you spoke it more, at home and stuff.”

His cheeks tinge pink, something like shyness settling into his gaze when he glances at Timo and his brother. “My accent gets thick,” he says quietly. “Jonas says half the time he doesn’t even know what I’m saying. And then it messes up my English too because I get all slurry.”

Frowning, you try to think a time he’s been weird with his English. Sometimes he speaks more formal than most Americans would, or he stumbles over a pronunciation but you’ve always known what he was talking about.

“That’s not true,” you insist. “Well I don’t know about Jonas’s claims but I always understand you. And I like your accent.”

Shaking his head, he smiles, a little bitter. “S’not exactly the kinda accent you want to hear in bed, is it? Not like yours.”

You can’t believe you didn’t know this about Nico. That him not making the language mandatory for the boys, him not speaking in his native tongue or sharing his childhood names, or even calling you sweet pet names in Swiss German is all because of this.

He’s embarrassed about his accent.

“Nico,” you murmur, dramatically pouting your lips when his gaze falls to your mouth. “I love your accent.”

He hums, low and quiet, like he’s embarrassed to be asking for the reassurance but wants it anyway. Luckily for him, you’re always down to praise the ground he walks on.

Lowering your voice, you tuck into his shoulder to hide your words from his family. “Especially when it’s telling me what a good girl I am.”

A shuddering breath leaves his lips, wetting them with his tongue. He wraps his arm around your middle, dark eyes meeting yours.

“Fuck, what am I gonna do with you?” He mutters more to himself than you, but you’re pressed up against him so tightly it’d be impossible for you not to hear.

You smile, “kuss?”

Nico chuckles, leaning in to kiss you. You cup the back of his neck, drawing him closer and tease the seal of his lips with your tongue-

“Hands off her Hischier!”

Disgruntled, Nico pulls back and looks over your head. His eyebrow pinch together, lips pursed and your heart stutters in your chest. You know that’s his mean look, the grump face Jack is always talking about but you think it’s so cute.

Turning, you rest back on Nico’s chest and he wraps his arm across your chest. Flattered, you hold onto his bicep, blinking innocently at Jack and Dawson.

“You two are not allowed to drink with her,” Nico dismisses before they can even ask. Timo rolls his lips, trying not to laugh as he hands your drink back. Luca, not bothering to uphold his brother’s authority, laughs anyway.

“Uh-oh,” he teases, “what trouble did the kids get you into?”

Blushing, you ignore Luca in favor of taking another sip. Luke’s face brightens, already fishing his phone out of his pocket.

“She drank the whole bar out from under Jack,” he snorts, scrolling through what you know is his Snapchat memories. The stupid app where the videos of you on the keg and Timo’s shoulders live. “It was the first time she hung out with us without Nico.”

He hands the phone over, Luca’s face cracks open into a delighted laugh that sounds a lot like Nico’s. Grumpy, you tilt your head back to look up at Nico.

“Can we go practice pool?”

Nico licks his lips again, smiling as he nods. “Lead the way baby.”

~~~~

Fiddling with the empty shot glass in front of you, you blindly nod along to whatever story Nina is sharing with the table. It’s not polite, you know that, to pretend to be listening when you’re not. Especially if you’re doing a shit job at it.

But it’s like Nico is telepathically beckoning your eyes to be on him all night.

He looks so good, squinting in concentration at the game of beer pong in front of him. Luca is muttering something in his ear, obviously strategizing on how to make sure the Hughes boys don’t catch up and win.

If Nico can feel you watching him, he doesn’t show it. He keeps his eyes on the makeshift table, what was obviously the other pool table but now has a plank of sanded and glossed wood on top. Luca pats him on the back, takes a step to the left and then Nico is holding up his ping pong ball, his large hand and fingers dwarfing it.

God, he’s so hot, you think and Nico bites his lip as he aims, turning to find the right angle and you almost die when he juts his ass out just the slightest bit. Maybe he does know you’re watching him.

“Hey,” an elbow bumps you, Nina’s you think. “stop drooling over Nico. Your bestie is trying to talk to you.”

You’re not even embarrassed about being caught staring (and drooling), but you are a little embarrassed that Timo is now standing at the end of the table. You hadn’t even noticed.

You do notice the red head by his side though, everything about her even more beautiful up close. She’s got Timo’s hand in hers, a blue drink in the other and you immediately smile in greeting.

“M’not even sorry,” you say to Timo, who looks unimpressed. “He’s so hot.”

“I’m not surprised,” he counters, “you do this every time you drink around him.”

Maja and Nina snicker, and you shrug. A proud smile pulls at your lips and you lift your drink in cheers to him. “Guilty.”

Timo laughs, shaking his head and then he’s letting go of the girls hand to hold her waist. “Anyway, this is Amelia-“ even her name is beautiful. “-is it ok if she hangs out with you guys?”

Nina is immediately scooting down the table to make room. “Yes of course!” She exclaims, “it’s so nice to see you again.” Timo whispers something in Amelia’s ear before she sits down, smiling shyly.

“M’up next for pong,” Timo explains, making a face at you. “Pray Luca gets worse as he drinks because Nico does not.”

You sip your drink, glancing over at Nico. He’s laughing at whatever Jack just told him, solo cup in hand. You meet Timo’s gaze again, his eyes wide in expectation.

“Oh,” you say, already knowing what he’s not asking. “Yeah, just give me like a nod or something and I’ll take care of him.”

Timo reaches across the table and you high five him, laughing. “That’s what I’m talking about.” He cheers, then he’s pressing a kiss to Amelia’s head.

“See ya later!” He darts away from the table, heading down for his turn of pong.

“What was that about?” Amelia asks, the first words she’s spoken to you tonight. Nina is looking to you for an answer too but by the way Maja is smiling in amusement, you have a feeling she knows.

“I help Timo win at pong when he plays against Nico,” you explain, tentatively. “Not like cheating but Nico gets really good aim the drunker he gets so I just-distract him.”

“That’s one word for it.”

The table goes silent at Maja’s words, wheels turning until Nina’s eyes light up in understanding. Almost immediately she’s frowning in disgust.

“Oh ewwwww,” she mutters, taking a large swig of her drink. Amelia laughs, looking over her shoulder towards Timo and then at you, shrugging.

“If it works,” she says quietly, making you and Maja giggle. “That’s real friendship.”

Jack and Luke come grumbling by, pouting and petulant. It’s obvious they’ve lost their game to Nico and Luca, and when you look over their shoulders Timo and Mercer are starting their own matchup against the brothers.

“Hey,” Jack stops as he walks by, eyebrows pinched in annoyance. “He’s getting too cocky over there, boss.”

He jabs a thumb over his shoulder to Nico.

“Yeah,” Luke adds, “go make him lose, please?”

You look around, confused by the lack of the fourth boy they had at once been with. “Where’s Alex?”

Jack huffs in annoyance, a hand on his hip. “We sent him for the next round, on Nico of course, now are you gonna fuck with him or no?”

“Oh my god, yes. Now go.”

They turn to leave, Luke stopping last minute and raising an eyebrow at you. “Are you gonna tell him we asked you?”

“Oh yeah,” you snort, “but I won’t let him get mad so it’s ok.”

Luke brightens at that, shoving Jack forward and towards the bar. Focusing back on the girls, you tune into Maja asking Amelia about herself. It’s bad, but you find yourself zoning out in favor of watching Nico again.

It’s a view you can never get tired of.

You stay like, half tuned into the conversations between the girls and watching the game of beer pong. So far it’s pretty neck and neck, Dawson having aim almost as straight as Nico’s. Probably because of his height, you theorize. Him and Nico are both tall.

Though you suppose Timo is too.

He doesn’t feel as tall as Nico though. Something about his presence, his personality is just bigger than life. It probably aids his role as boss, the fact that he looks and feels so intimidating.

Timo catches your eye, tilting his head ever so slightly and you realize Nico and Luca have gone on a heater, clearing away all but three cups on the table.

“That’s my cue,” you say to the table, downing the last watered-down bit of your drink. Nina’s nose scrunches in disgust and she shoos you away.

Nico sees you coming right away, stretching out his arm for you to fit yourself under. Fiddling with his pendant, you press your chest into him, looking up at through your lashes.

“Enjoying the view?” He teases, confirming that he did in fact know you were watching him the whole time.

“Yeah,” you rise to your toes, lips close to his ear. “They sent me over here to sabotage your game.” Nico hums in acknowledgment, excited butterflies swarming your stomach. You love when the boys try to make you pick them over Nico, when you can mess with them under the pretense of teasing Nico.

They should know by now that you’re always on his side.

“I think it’d be more fun if you won though,” your voice is low, sultry and you can hear how hard Nico swallows.

“What do I get if I win?”

Pressing in closer to him, you smack a sloppy kiss to the soft patch of skin below his ear. “You get me any way you want Boss.”

Nico sinks the next three shots, and Timo doesn’t even get a chance to whine before your boyfriend is dragging you off to the back rooms of the bar.

~~~~

Fingertips and toes fuzzy from alcohol, you blindly paw at Nico. He backs you up into the edge of the sink, the porcelain pressing into your hip just rough enough to leave a bruise in the morning.

Nico’s hand drops your thigh, hitching one leg up over his hip. Unashamedly, he grinds into the newly available space.

“Fuck me,” he groans, doing it again, the bulge in his jeans growing harder with each rut into your covered core. It’s stupid and childish, like horny teenagers sneaking off at prom to grind in the janitors closet.

But it’s making Nico weak in the knees, strained noises of pleasure and teasing whimpers, all muffled by your lips. Listening to him, you slump back until your head bumps against the cool glass of the mirror, and Nico attaches to your jaw and neck.

Nipping and biting, his messily shaven beard-mustache combo scratches at your skin, just on the pleasurable side of rough.

It’s like he’s feral, lost in his own head as he marks your skin with his teeth, desperately dry humping into your overly warm body.

“Nico,” you run a hand through his hair.

“Hmm?”

His teeth nip below your ear and you hiss, digging your nails into the fabric of his flannel.

“Let me-“ you pant, cut off when he abruptly kisses you again, licking into your mouth. Kissing him, you shove at his hip with your knee until there’s enough room to get your hand down there, reaching for the button of his jeans.

“Nico,” you manage to get out, laughing when he shudders as you wiggle his button open and paw at the zipper. “Back up for a second baby.”

Eagerly, he steps back and you drop down from the sink. Nico’s panting, cheeks flushed and pupils blown when you calmly crowd into him, pressing a sweet kiss to his jaw as you get his jeans loose. You wiggle them down his hips, your knees going with them-

“Wait,” Nico catches your elbow and you freeze, peering up at him. He hastily plucks at the buttons of his flannel, quick but uncoordinated until the fabric comes loose and he shrugs it off.

“Here baby,” he murmurs, laying it out in the floor by his feet. Butterflies fluttering in your chest, you kiss him in thanks.

Even when he’s about to get his dick sucked in the bar bathroom he’s a total sweetheart.

You drop to your knees, Nico’s flannel thick and soft where it’s bunched under your weight. Grabbing the sides of his jeans, you yank them the rest of the way down his thighs until they rest around his feet.

Biting at your bottom lip, you push the edge of his shirt up with one hand and latch onto his boxer briefs with the other. His breath hitches, stomach clenching under your fingers when his cock skips free.

Thick and red, the blunt head dripping, you take him in your hand. Above you, Nico takes a deep breath, gathering your hair gently in his large hands. You lean in, by passing his hard cock in favor of kissing at the scar on the v of his hip and down his thigh. The muscle twitches under your mouth and you smile.

If the setting were better, you’d take your time teasing him. Kiss all over his thighs and hip bones, nose and lick at the underside of his cock where that stupidly sensitive vein runs under the smooth skin.

But there will be more chances for that so you don’t dwell on it.

Wetting your lips, you take his cock into your mouth, sinking down until he rests heavily on your tongue. A wrecked moan punches out of his chest, fingers tightening in your hair and you’re ready when he subconsciously urges you to take him deeper. Nothing if not predictable, methodical.

Holding tight to his thigh, you take deep breaths through your nose and swallow him down. The head of cock prods at the back of your throat, makes your throat tighten around him instinctively and Nico shudders, goosebumps rising on his skin under your fingertips.

You back off, mouth parting to suck in air while he still teases at your lips. Panting, you look up at Nico to find him already watching you. His hair’s a mess, eyes glassy and pitch black and he’s breathing heavily.

Swiping your tongue through his slit, you take him back into your mouth, watch the way his eyes flutter and his jaw clenches. You blink at him, fingers gripping his rucked up shirt tighter and you relax your jaw and throat.

Go ahead, Nico.

Like always, he can read you perfectly. His lips curl ever so slightly, the scar on his cheek dimpling. He smoothes your hair back again, lips puckering as he takes another deep breath.

Slowly, he presses his hips forward and holds you still, guiding his cock back down your throat. You let your eyes close, focusing on breathing and the sounds of his breath, the taste of his skin and come, grounding yourself.

He takes it slow for a second, easing himself in and out of your throat. But the appropriate timing to leave a party is dwindling down and Nico is getting desperate. You can tell by his gasps and whimpers, by the way he’s holding your head.

His thumb brushes the corner of your eye, the words going unspoken. You tilt your head up just a bit and Nico takes that as his go-ahead.

Rough and sloppy, Nico fucks into your mouth relentlessly. He never takes it to far, somehow always knows how to use you in a way that feels so good. You tongue at the underside of his cock, drool dripping out of the creases of your mouth.

“So good for me,” Nico groans above you, cock hitting the back of your throat and he moans when you gag around him. “Taking me like a fucking pro, like it’s your job, huh?”

You dig your nails into his thigh, choking in breathes through your nose and Nico caresses your face. “Like you meant to do this, yeah? Meant for me?”

Blinking your eyes open, Nico comes into view, blurry and watery through your eyes. You hum in agreement, his cock twitching in your mouth. Unable to answer him in words, you instead slip your hand down between his legs. He widens his stance for you, a sigh of content leaving his nose when you cup his balls.

He lets up, pulls himself all the way out of your mouth and you gasp for air, lungs burning. Gently, he swipes at your messy mouth, cleaning it up for you and you bat your eyes at him.

“Thanks baby,” you whisper, voice rough and strained. Nico simply smiles, a hiss leaving his lips because you’ve begun fondling him, lips dropping open to welcome him back into your mouth.

Nico doesn’t have to be told twice. He picks up where he left off, fucking your throat while you tease at his balls. He turns into a blubbering mess above you, Swiss German leaving his lips in a drunken slur and you’re caught off guard when he stills, cock all the way down your throat.

You grab his thigh again, whining as he spills into your mouth with a low grunt. His hand has gone slack, enough for you to pull back until just the tip is resting between your lips. Tenderly, you suckle at him, swallowing the mess he’s left behind.

A sound bordering on pain rumbles from deep in his chest, breath heavy when he mumbles, “please baby.” Dropping him from your mouth, you sweetly kiss at the scar on his thigh before rising to your feet. Nico drops your hair, taking a hold of your elbows to haul you up.

He’s all dimples and red cheeks, calloused fingers swiping under your eyes to wipe away the tears. “My pretty girl,” he whispers, kissing between your eyebrows.

You snuggle into his hold, taking a few deep breathes until your racing heart has calmed down. It hits you that his flannel is still lying rumpled on the bathroom floor, pants around his ankles, softening cock out, and you have try really hard not to laugh.

“You are so spoiling me tonight,” the thought makes you giddy, mind already conjuring up all the ways your gonna pillow princess on him later.

“Yes I am.” He says cheekily, squeezing you. Then after a beat of silence. “Fuck I need to put my pants back on.”

~~~~

You could blame the alcohol for the way you press back into him, arching your spine just enough to have the curve of your ass fit into the front of him. Truth is though, you don’t need to blame anything, don’t need to justify yourself to Nico.

He’s just as bad as you, grabbing your hip in his free hand and pulling you back into him. Leaning over you under the pretense of helping you line up a shot. Teasingly, you pull the stick back far enough that it hits his hip, fighting back a laugh when he lets out a quiet “oof.”

“Hey,” Luca scolds, and you take your shot, banking the cue ball off a solid that goes rolling into the corner pocket. “Keep it PG over there, Jesus Christ.”

Nico snickers and you straighten out, stepping away from him to hand over the pool stick. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nico insists, raising an eyebrow at his brother. “M’just being helpful.”

Luca smirks. “I was talking to her,” he points at you, and you giggle innocently.

“Me? What did I do?”

He turns, putting his back towards Maja. “I know that little move,” he bends forward, shoving his ass into Maja to the point that she stumbles away from him, drink sloshing onto the floor.

“How attractive,” Nico deadpans, and Maja starts bitching at Luca in Swiss German, laughing as she does so. You turn back to Nico, hands coming up to rest on his chest and he smiles lazily.

“Yes my baby?”

“I’ll be right back,” you say, and before he can ask, “I need the bathroom. For real this time.”

Satisfaction shines in his gaze, eyes crinkling when his smirk widens. It’s an attractive look on him, this cocky and carefree Nico who’s having fun with his family. You want him like this all the time, you decide. Smiling that wide, knowing that you’ll always be here to make sure he feels good and loved.

“Yeah ok,” he agrees, “be careful.” You nod, turning to walk away and he swats at your ass as you go. You scurry away, hands covering your butt until you can no longer hear Luca gripping Nico again for being handsy.

Making your way through the tables, you come up short when you spot an eerily familiar looking group. Struck by Deja Vu, you freeze on the spot just as the group of girls in line for the bathroom turn to you.

It’s them, all of them. Lena’s friends from that first night at the bar, all the girls that stood there and let her spew lies about you and Nico. A part of you wants to yell at them, to shame them for supporting a woman that could do something like that to another woman, could do that to Nico.

But you’re smarter than that, and scared, and the logical part of you knows you need to turn around and go back to Nico. You need to tell him, to make him take you back to the private bathroom from before and then make Luca kick them out.

You don’t move though, and neither do they. At least for the moment. A short girl with mousy brown hair moves first, stepping towards you and you tense.

“Sorry,” she says, wincing. “I didn’t-we didn’t mean to put you on edge.”

“Yeah,” you laugh bitterly. “Can’t imagine why I’d be on edge around you.”

They all share guilty looks. “We didn’t know what she was gonna do, what she even did. We just heard something had happened to you and Lena had disappeared.”

“Don’t say her name to me!” You hiss, angry and embarrassed that even these stupid girls know about it. Not all of it, it seems. But enough.

“Sorry,” the girl says again and this time it’s a blonde that speaks up.

“We don’t know what happened,” she starts, tentatively and something about her tone makes you stop. She sounds…genuine. “And we don’t really want to know. If it was bad enough for her to be…gone than she probably deserved it.”

Yeah you’d say she deserved that. Actually, she probably deserved worse but you can be too nice sometimes.

“Nico may be scary, but he’s not unfair and cruel.” Another adds. You don’t bother telling them it was you that decided what happened to Lena.

“Anyway,” the mousy haired girl sighs. “We just-we wanted to make sure you knew.”

“Knew what?”

“She was making a deal with someone. On the inside. She never said who, but she bragged a lot about how she was getting her second chance.”

A cold chill pricks at your neck, creeps down your spine and you have to swallow down the lump of fear rising in your chest. Get back to Nico, you need to get back to Nico.

“Ok,” you choke out, willing yourself to calm down. They probably mean Marcelo, the person on the inside that was working with her. Nico and Luca would’ve caught on if someone else were involved.

Abruptly, you turn, head spinning as you make a beeline back to the pool tables. Lena made a deal with someone, they had said. Not the other way around. Marcelo said he’d been offered a deal by Lena, you saw the message. No one ever said anything about her being offered a deal.

There’s nothing to do about the Lena thing right now, not that you even know if it’s true. Maybe they misspoke, maybe they’re somehow in contact with Lena and are messing with you.

Whatever it is, it’s tomorrow’s problem.

~~~~

“Look at that,” Timo sings, bumping his shoulder into Nico. Looking over at his friend, Nico follows his line of sight to you and Amelia. You’re showing her something on your phone, smiling wide and laughing together.

You look like you’ve known her your whole life, and something aches in Nico’s chest. Anyone you would have known your whole life is no longer in your life, and that fucking sucks. And it sucks that between your family and the friends that dropped you, there’s enough lingering pain to keep you from having real friendships.

Of course you’re Nico’s best friend and he knows he’s yours, but it’s not the same. He’ll never tire of you, never wish you had more friends to be around so that you’re not around him. But a part of him thinks you miss that, miss having girls around that feel like genuine friends.

You’ve never said it, but he knows you’re too scared to try and get close with the other Jersey girls.

Maybe Amelia is what you need. A real friend.

“They’re getting a long well.”

Nico looks at Timo questioningly. “You thought they wouldn’t?”

He shakes his head. “Of course I knew they would. It’s just…nice to see I guess.”

Yeah, Nico mentally agrees. It is nice. “When are you going to ask her to come to Jersey?”

Timo scoffs, elbowing Nico and narrowing his gaze. “Like you’ve got room to talk. When are you gonna ask her to marry you?”

Nico has to bite his lip to stop the smirk that rises on his face. His body warms, arousal stirring in his belly as he mentally relives this morning. “She asked me,” he laughs, “but I said no.”

“What? What is wrong with you?”

Timo smacks at his head, Nico ducking to get away. “It’s your fault. Thought there was some kinda rule you gave her about accepting proposals.”

“Huh?” Timo frowns, then sags in disappointment. “No, she didn’t ask you during sex did she?”

Nico laughs, not even needing to answer and Timo groans, painfully. “Jesus fuck, you two really are meant for each other huh?”

“Yeah,” Nico hums, heart fluttering. You are meant for him. And he’s meant for you. He can feel it in the way his entire being is always craving you, how he always feels like he’s missing something when he’s not with you. Even now, with you twenty feet away, it’s like he’s missing his right arm.

A piece of himself he didn’t know was gone until he met you.

“M’gonna ask her tomorrow morning,” Timo finally answers. “I know it’s last minute but that’s just how it worked out I guess.”

Nico looks over. Timo is nervously biting at the corner of his thumb, staring off into space as doubts swirl in his head. Clapping him on the back, Nico nods. “Whatever you need to do. If we gotta hold the flight, we can. If you need to stay longer, I’ll send the jet back for you. Anything Timo, I mean it.”

Then Timo is hugging him, squeezing Nico around the chest just like he used to do when they were younger. When they played hockey together and Timo would shove him into the boards, smacking him over the head and squeezing him tight.

Nico was smaller back then, but the feeling is all the same.

“Thanks man,” Timo mumbles, pulling back. “Same goes for you, anything I gotta do to help just please put a ring on that poor girl over there already.”

Nico laughs, squeezing Timo’s shoulder in thanks. “Don’t worry,” he assures, “I’m already on it.”

Him and Timo share a look of understanding. This is it, these next two days will change everything. Timo will either be walking away with the love of his life, or trying to find a way to finally move on. And Nico, well that little picture he’s had in his head of you in a white dress, swaying in his arms under the stars will be right there.

It’ll all be within reach.

Nico spends the rest of the night picturing that wedding ring on your finger.

~~~~

You should be running errands, should be gathering things and getting ready for the trip home. God knows you’ll have to triple check everything the boys pack, make sure they’re not leaving anything behind or forgetting passports.

It’s a long flight with a lot more people this time.

But you can’t bring yourself to move, to make your way downstairs and busy yourself with something else before Nico gets out of the shower.

Something’s not right. You can feel it, like a heavy weight on your chest, a crawling feeling on the back of your neck. Even before Lena’s friends mentioned it, the unease was there. Call it paranoia or intuition or whatever, but you know you’re right.

Just like you were right that day Lena and Marcelo were following you.

The texts, the plan; It doesn’t add up. Nico may believe that at the end of the day it came down to her wanting his power and revenge for leaving her. But Lena’s father worked with Rino. Even after Nico left she had stake in the business, she had been sworn into the family even before Nico knew of their arranged marriage.

She wanted something else.

Inhaling deeply, you pick up the phone from your nightstand, sliding open the screen now that Nico has disabled the password. The screen is a photo of her, a champagne flute in her manicured hands and long hair hanging over her shoulder. She’s on a balcony, the mountains green behind her. It was taken in the summer obviously, and she’s wearing a long satin dress that dips low down her back.

It’s a beautiful picture, really. But the background is what gets you. It was taken at Nico’s house, from the large open space that overlooks the grounds. He had told you that a pool was up there and in the summer they used to grill and swim a lot.

You pull up the camera roll, swipe through her photos. There’s no need to linger on them, Luca went through all the albums. At least that’s what Nico said.

It doesn’t take long to find the wallpaper photo. It’s fairly recent, taken just a few week before the cold started to settle in.

Lena had been visiting Nico’s home recently. You swipe to the one next to it. She’s not in it except for her hand, holding the champagne flute out over the balcony. It’s from the spot overlooking where you and Nico went on a walk your first day here, where you’d tackled him in the snow and goofed around until it got too cold.

You think back on the moment, on the way the air made you shiver. Was it the cold? Or was it something else?

Huffing, you drop the phone onto the bed and run your hands over your face. The tender spot on your temple aches, overwhelmed and confused. But you have to do this now, before Nico comes back to the room and realizes you’re still caught up on the stupid phone.

You don’t need him worrying over you, thinking that Lena is still haunting you and making you stress.

Picking the phone back up, you stare at the photos app. Why was she at Nico’s house? Luca runs majority of the business now with Rino acting as advisor and figurehead. There’s no business to be done at that house, it would be at Luca’s office.

Unless it was business Luca didn’t know about.

You click back to her albums, reading over the titles of them all. It’s funny how organized girls phones usually are. Nico’s camera roll is a mess, mostly pictures of you, or you and him, or you and Moose. And he doesn’t sort them or delete them. Hell he didn’t even know you have to delete photos twice….

Fingers trembling you scroll down until you get the last album. Lena’s sorted it at bottom, the recently deleted album hidden from anyone not looking for it.

Someone like Nico.

You click the album, holding your breath when random screenshots and selfies come up. Scrolling, you pause when you get to a screenshot of a text thread, all the way at the top meaning it was deleted recently.

The phone number isn’t saved but you can tell it’s a local one. There’s not a lot to the thread but panic seizes at your lungs when you read the first text.

The code is on my desk, everything is set to go. Don’t disappoint me Lena.

She hadn’t responded to it, only liking the message. The number had texted her again the next day.

Timo’s party, she scares easily.

This is who was following you that day, not Lena. And whoever it was had seen everything, knew you were freaked out and pushing Nico away. They knew exactly how to get you to run right to them.

Meaning they were familiar and experienced in this practice. Marcelo, maybe. You don’t know how long he worked for Luca, if he had been there since Rino was running everything-

Rino. Rino who has a desk and an office in that house. Rino who had picked Lena for his son. Rino who has does his very best to make you uncomfortable this whole trip.

Oh no, you think, this can’t be true. But you know it is. There’s no other way Lena and Marcelo would’ve known how to do this. Nico said it himself, they were sloppy and messy with you once they got you. But the plan leading up to that point had been flawless. Executed by someone pulling the strings from afar.

Lena had a deal with someone on the inside.

You swipe to the next photo, swallowing heavily when you realize what it is. Lena had taken a photo of the code, the one mentioned in the texts. It’s sitting on a placard, shiny and silver on an oak desk.

Anyone not looking for it would think it’s simply an interesting desk trinket, a creative nameplate. Pieced together Scrabble tiles, oddly clumped together and made of more than just letters.

R1N067

The numbers are odd, mostly because there’s no numbers in Scrabble. The tiles could be from somewhere else, not that it really matters.

What actually matters is that Nico and Luca missed a huge piece of the puzzle hidden in this phone, one that you’re not even sure you can reveal to them.

Rino tried to have you killed.

~~~~

“You ok?”

Nico tucks into the top of your head, laying a sweet kiss on your forehead. You blink, distracted and continue folding the freshly washed clothes.

“Yeah m’fine,” you respond casually, tucking socks into the extra pair of shoes had Nico brought. Sneakers that sit at the very bottom of his suitcase.

He grabs his jacket from the bed and shrugs it on, looking you up and down through his dark eyelashes. “Got some last minutes things before the flight I gotta take care of,” he says, adjusting the collar. “Which of the boys do you want me to leave?”

You don’t have to think about it long. It’s a no brainer. He’s already proven himself once this trip, got the boys together and ready for an international flight without you and Nico. He’s the one that picked you from the hospital, that effortlessly fit into the spot by your side, a seamless second hand man.

“Umm, Mercer?” You reply, as if it’s a question. The last thing you need is to look suspicious to Nico or at all nervous. He’ll drop everything to be that person for you, but this isn’t something he can be a part of.

You can’t let him.

“Not Holtzy?” He jokes, working on the buttons of his coat. “You’re trusting me with your precious baby Alex?”

Nico fits himself to your back, arms around your waist and his chin presses into your shoulder. “Think he’s hurt that you weren’t on his pong team last night. He needs bonding time with his father.”

Nico pinches your hip and you squawk, jumping away from him. Not that you get very far with him holding you to his chest. “That kid is all yours.” He chuckles and you roll your eyes. You can’t see it, but Nico’s smile widens, already knowing that you’re silently giving him attitude.

“Get out of here,” you mumble, “M’trying to pack.”

He smacks a kiss to your temple before stepping back. “Text you when I’m heading home,” he says, and you can hear him gathering his keys and phone off the dresser. “Do ya need anything?”

Yeah I need a whole day of you distracted with no questions asked, please.

“Ummm I don’t think so,” you turn to look at him, smiling at how cute he looks tucking his hair up into a beanie. “Oh actually, if I send you some stuff to get at the store will you pick it up for me?”

He frowns. “What kinda stuff?”

“For the boys,” you reply, casually. “Snacks and stuff to keep them busy on the flight.”

“They’re not five-“

“Do you want to entertain them the whole way then?”

Nico’s mouth stamps shut, lips pursing in thought and then he shakes his head. You fold the long sleeve in your hands, placing it neatly in his suitcase with a knowing look.

“Yeah ok, text them to me ok?”

He takes your arm, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. “Ok,” you agree, and he squeezes your bicep before heading towards the door.

“Be safe Nico!” You call last minute, anxiously biting at your bottom lip. His heavy footfall pauses on the stairs and then faintly you hear him call back, “Yeah you too!”

~~~~

It takes Nico another half hour to wrangle together Alex, Luke, and Jack. Timo left this morning, looking far too nauseous for you to believe his claim that he’s not hungover.

Once the house has fallen silent, you go to work. Nico’s freshly washed black layers, you slip out from where he watched you pack them in his suitcase. You didn’t bring your usual mission gear, so instead you dig out black jeans and Nico’s long wool coat, laying them out on the bed.

“Dawson!” You call, collecting your boots and the holster you’d taken from Luca after the hospital. From down the hall you hear Dawson lumber towards the bedroom.

“What are you doing?”

He’s in the doorway, knowing eyes looking over the array of clothes you’ve got on the bed. When he looks at you, it’s like he already knows exactly what you’re gonna say.

Dawson’s always been smarter than he’s given credit for.

“There’s something I need to do,” you begin, “before we leave tomorrow. And I want you to come with me.”

“What about Nico?” He asks incredulously.

Shaking your head, you say, “He can’t know. You have to promise me you won’t say a word to him Dawson.”

He’s hesitant, you can tell by the way his whole face wrinkles with uncomfortableness. Even the breath he lets outs is iffy, like his whole body is unsure of this. “I don’t know…”

“Nico can’t know.” You insist, approaching him. “I’ll tell him when it’s right, but it has to be me.”

Dawson lets you take a hold of his shoulders, your gaze reassuring and certain when you look at him. “If you’re not comfortable with that, you need to tell me. I won’t be mad, but I can’t bring you into this if you’re not certain.”

You can almost see the neurons firing in his brain, eyes sweeping over your face like he’s waiting for you to laugh, to tell him this is all a test or a joke or something. After a moment, he straightens his shoulders.

“I’m with you,” he nods, “number one priority is you, that’s what Nico always says. So yeah, I can do it.”

Smiling, you ruffle his hair. “Atta boy, go get your gear on. I’ll debrief you before we go.”

Dawson’s entire body goes point straight, face hardening and he brings his fingers up to his forehead. “Sir yes sir.” He salutes you, a toothy smile cracking on his face when you shove him out the door.

He may not be the most serious and mature of the boys, but he’d sure as hell make a good second in command.

~~~~

“I should’ve known that was you.”

You don’t turn to look at him, humming in acknowledgment as you continue to look over the items meticulously placed on his office shelves.

It wasn’t hard getting Rino out of the house nor was it hard finding exactly where in the mansion he does his work. Mercer simply called the number from Lena’s phone, his voice gruff as he threatened Rino over the phone while you tracked its exact location. The pin locked, Rino took down the fake address Mercer fed him for ‘negotiations’ and you two slipped into the house while he was out.

“Where is he?” Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you look to Rino. “My son?”

He looks amused, like he thinks this some kind of joke, you being here. He was expecting Nico probably, not you.

“You’re sloppy,” you say instead, “all the scheming and lying, and you didn’t even make an effort to hide it?”

Something dark and mocking settles in his eyes. You wonder how ever compared him to Nico, this man. Any sense of resemblance they once held now ceases to exist. “I think that’s enough, this playing pretend.” He waves a dismissive hand at you. “You’re not meant for this life so let me speak to my son now.”

Anger boils in the pit of your stomach, for you, for Nico, for this whole family. This man has got it all. Money, safety, power, but most importantly he has three incredible kids. Kids that should mean the world to him, that should’ve been his priority.

Instead, they were his property.

“You’re stupid if you think I brought Nico here.” Keeping calm, level-headed. That’s how you stay ahead, even if you’re angry or scared. They’ll never know what to do with confidence, Nico had told you once. Even if they have the upper hand, pretend you do.

“That’s fine,” Rino shrugs, “it’ll be easier to get you out of my way if you’re alone.”

His boots are heavy when he crosses the room, stomping against the hardwood as he stalks towards you. Swallowing down the spike of fear in your chest, you tilt your head at him. “Who said I’m alone?”

Mercer takes his cue, slipping in the door behind Rino as the man comes to a halt. The melted snow on his boots squeaks against the pristine floor, and you look over Rino’s shoulder, silently shushing him with a cocked eyebrow.

Rino’s already heard him though, whipping around to find Mercer in the doorway, rifle in hand. Stiffening, Mercer raises the scope and aims it at Rino’s head.

“Oh great,” he deadpans, ignoring the gun on him and turning back to you. He’s close enough now that you can see the sweat beading on his face, the coldness of his gaze. “Another American I’m supposed to be afraid of.”

“I’m Canadian,” Mercer mutters behind him at the same time you say,” Supposed to be? You are scared of me.”

It’s almost funny the way Rino stops, taken an aback by your words and you use the moment to do more damage. “That’s why you made that deal with Lena. Nico was already your wildcard child, and you didn’t like that he brought in someone new. Someone he actually delegated power to.

“Because I don’t sit back and pop out three babies for him, and because I actually care enough about him to show up here and put a gun to your head.”

If possible, Rino’s face hardens even more than its usual stoic nature. “I had to make sure my son wasn’t making another mistake!” He bellows, and it echoes throughout the large office.

“He went against everything I ever taught him, everything that was ever ingrained in him from birth. Last thing I needed was him losing what little he has to a can’t-hack-it!”

“You ingrained in him?” You scoff, moving around the desk and towards Rino. “Everything good about Nico came from the nannies and baby-sitters. You had him simply because you couldn’t handle it, you couldn’t do what he does now.”

You’ve gotten so close to Rino you can feel his anger fueled breathes on your face, smell his oaky cologne. “It’s a good thing you were never around, weren’t here to teach him how to be a fucking coward-“

Rino cuts you off with a stinging backhand, the ring on his finger catching your bottom lip and the coppery taste of blood spills onto your tongue. Before you can even think of swinging back Mercer is kicking Rino’s legs, forcing him to his knees.

“Stay right there,” Mercer spits, eyes ablaze with anger. He shoves the scope of his rifle into the back of Rino’s head. “Touch her again and I’ll fucking kill you.”

Rino laughs humorlessly, glaring up at you as swipe at the blood on your chin. “That’s how it is in Jersey? You throw on red colors and get Nico’s men to kill for you? Act like you actually do something?”

“As opposed to what?” You spit at his knees, watered down blood staining the floor. “Making my kids hate me so much they push me out of the business? Pay my son’s ex to kidnap his fiancé and leave the blame on her and some random man? Hide behind everything?”

Rino opens his mouth to speak but you’re tired of hearing his voice, his excuses. “You’re a coward,” you continue, kicking at his thigh. “You have the most amazing family and you’ve thrown it all away. You don’t deserve to know Nico let alone be related to him.”

You take a step back, collecting yourself with a deep breath. Rino stays silent for the first time all day.

“Which is why you’re not going to know him anymore.” It’s the only real solution you can think of, the only fitting punishment besides death. You can’t kill Nico’s father, but you can keep him from hurting him.

“Nico is never going to see you or speak to you again. You’re not to come around my family under any circumstance.”

“You really think he’ll let you do this?” Rino mumbles, “Nico?”

“I don’t need his permission,” you say firmly, “but it’s actually insane that you ever thought you could lay a hand on me and Nico would want to be around you.

“In a way, it was merciful of me to come here instead of him. Father or not Nico would’ve torn you apart with his bare hands. I guess you wouldn’t know that though, seeing as you don’t know anything about him.”

Rino’s shoulders sag, hunching in on himself as your words sink in. It doesn’t take a genius to realize you’re right. Nico has left his family before, gone out on his own. He’d sure as hell do it again, especially for you.

“What do you want from me?” Rino finally sighs, defeated.

“I’m so glad you asked,” you faux smile at him, digging into your pocket for your phone. The voice note app is already up and you hit record. “I want to know why.”

~~~~

“Hey, we’re at the house. Where are you guys?”

Dawson glances at you, wincing when he returns his gaze back to the road in front of him. Dabbing at your busted lip with your bandana, you shift uncomfortably.

“We’re on our way home,” you say vaguely, stomach cramping. Nico’s gonna see right through it, is going to know something is wrong.

“Where did you go?” He asks, an edge in his tone.

Fluttering your eyes shut, you beg. “I can’t tell you right now, but I need you to please trust me Nico.”

All background noise that was previously filtering in through the speaker cuts off. He’s moved into another room, he’s starting to worry.

“Y/n,” he says, the use of your full name making your tongue heavy with guilt. “What happened? Are you ok?”

“Yes,” you assure insistently. “I’m fine, I’m with Dawson and he’s fine too. We just-I can’t say this to you over the phone, ok?”

Nico’s quiet for a moment. “Ok, yeah.” His voice sounds small, like it’s stuck in his chest. It’s the tone he gets when he’s overthinking, when he’s letting himself spiral. “You promise me you’re ok?”

“Yes,” you say, smiling a bit. Sometimes you don’t understand how Nico got so good at his job because he can be way too sweet for this world.

“A-and Dawson is too?”

You can see the surprise on Mercer’s face at the question, wide eyes falling to the screen of the car where Nico’s name and image is displayed.

“Yeah he’s ok,” you promise. “We’re only a few streets away so I’ll see you soon, ok?”

“Ok,” he says, sighing again. “Be safe.”

“We will.” You hang up the call, slumping back in your seat and groaning. How the fuck are you supposed to do this, to tell him that the man that was supposed to protect him has done the exact opposite.

“Y-you can’t tell him,” Mercer mumbles, and when he looks at you it’s with a sadness you’ve never seen on him before. “How the fuck are you supposed to tell him?”

Your thoughts exactly.

~~~~

Nico and the boys are in the kitchen when you and Dawson come in from the garage. At the sight of Mercer in his combat gear and the case of his gun on his shoulder, they all scramble to their feet. The sound of barstools scratching across the floors is loud in the now silent room.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

Nico is on you in an instant, the door barely being shut behind you before he’s crowding you against it.

“I’m ok,” you say, but he’s grabbing at your face with soft fingers, crouching down until those big brown eyes are right in front of yours. The sight makes emotion swell in your chest, and you have to try hard not to cry for him.

“Tell me who did this?”

His thumb brushes over the wound and you hiss, squeezing your eyes shut. Behind him, Mercer drops his gun onto the counter, beginning to unstrap his weapons.

“I will,” you swear, “but I need it to be just us, ok?”

Nico’s jaw clenches, eyes sweeping over your face and he rises to his full height. “Everybody out,” he calls over his shoulder. “Now.”

Jack and Luke grumble something unintelligible but they shuffle out of the kitchen, dragging Alex with them. Mercer finishes dropping his gear onto the table, casting you a long glance before he too makes his way to the dining room.

“Nico,” Mercer says softly, caught in the doorway. That sadness from before bleeds into his eyes, and he takes a slow breath. “I-I love you, ok?”

He’s caught off guard by the sentiment, blinking in confusion but then he’s nodding thoughtfully. “I love you too Dawson.”

It’s not something the boys say to each other often, the statement going more shown than spoken. The boys used to tease him when he’d say it to you, joke that they didn’t even know he knew how to say those words.

The kitchen falls silent after Dawson leaves, and then Nico is looking back at you. He looks…sad. Everything about him is droopy, the pout of his lips, the way his eyes have gone all big and moony.

“Y-you didn’t call me,” he whispers, breaking your heart. “Why wouldn’t you call me?”

He stumbles back when you throw yourself at him, locking your arms around his neck and tucking your face into his shoulder. But he doesn’t hesitate to hold you, arms wrapping around your waist and squeezing you into his chest.

“I’m sorry Nico,” you mutter, “I’m so sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says fiercely, “just tell me what happened? Who touched you?”

You close your eyes as if that’ll shield you from the next words out of your mouth. “It was your dad, Nico.”

His whole body tenses, a stuttered breath leaving his lips and you can feel the way his hold on you slackens. “What?”

“It was Rino,” you pull back from him, digging into your pockets for your phone and Lena’s. “All of it was him.” You hold them out to him, avoiding looking into his eyes as he takes them from your hand.

“It was in her deleted photos,” you explain, “texts with Rino, the code off his desk. He was the one that instructed her to take me, he set it all up.”

A hand cups your jaw, urges you to look up at him and you suck in a nervous breath. It sucks and it’s gonna hurt him, but he has to hear it from you. “I-I don’t want to see it on there. I want you to tell me what happened.”

So you do. You tell him about Lena’s friends at the bar, about how they seemed to be warning you of her deal. Then you tell him about the phone, about how you kept it because you still didn’t understand how Lena and Marcelo got the plan and resources to kidnap you. That you went through it this morning when he was in the shower, that her camera roll was filled with photos of her recently at his parent’s house. That it felt like someone was watching you that day you were there.

And you tell him about Mercer. That you sent the other boys with him because you needed someone who would follows your orders perfectly, who would be smart and loyal and strong. Someone who would lie to him if needed for you. You lay out the details of how you got into the house and found his office, how Rino came in and fought with you, slapped you. That Mercer made sure he didn’t do anything else.

Lastly, you tell him the why.

Rino had kids with the intention that they’d uphold his reputation, they’d keep his values and beliefs in mind always. And when Nico left, he disgraced them. That to Rino, that was a shame on the whole family. Nico had gotten lucky with his success there, but Rino didn’t think it would last.

And he thought it’d be you that ruined it. Because romantic partners, husband and wives are not to be mixed in with it. They’re meant to be seen and not heard, meant to be symbolic in the business of old fashioned values.

Nico was going to ruin his success, the family he built by letting you have a real role in the inner workings.

So Rino got ahold of Lena the night he heard Nico brought you to Switzerland. She had been staying at the house, was wanting to have a role in the business again. Rino offered her the role Nico was originally supposed to have in Germany, but first she needed to get you out of the picture and Nico back to Europe.

It was her trial, her test into getting back in. And it was Rino’s test of you.

Nico, to your surprise, doesn’t react at all as you talk. He’s like a still oil-painting, one hand clutching yours and the other holding the phones. The only giveaway that he’s still listening is the way his eyes shift between yours.

“What did you do to him?” Nico asks after you’ve finished.

“I-“ you swallow heavily. “I told him that if he ever came near you or our family that I’d kill him. And if he doubted me, he shouldn’t doubt you’d do the same thing.”

Nico blinks, a deep sadness settling into his gaze. It’s a different look than his usual grumpiness, like it’s heavier. You’re not sure what reaction you were expecting, maybe anger or vengeance. But not this.

This look that makes him appear so small, like a child that’s lost his mom in the grocery store. Lost, he looks so lost.

“Your poor face,” he whispers, glassy eyes falling to your lip. His thumb strokes next to your mouth again, careful to not disturb it. “I should kill him.”

You don’t say anything. You don’t know what you could possibly say to that. Nico doesn’t seem to be looking for a response though, continuing on under his breath.

“He deserves it. No one hurts you and gets to walk away, no one gets to treat you like that.”

Nico brings you into his chest again, caging you in with his thick biceps. You hold him tightly, trying to ignore the fact that Nico isn’t really coming to terms with what happened, and on top of that, you’ve gotta find a way to break the news to Luca and Nina.

And worst of all, Katja Hischier.

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 25: Love Language

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Love Language (🌼)

Summary: Matt's love language is touch.

Warnings: Fluff, love language, not proofread.

Word Count: 687

A/n: I do believe Matt Murdock shows his love through touch a lot, but also through all his other senses. I'm just focusing on one in this fic.

Read Me On AO3! (coming soon)

Matt’s love language is touch.

It’s not because he doesn’t know how to tell you he loves you—he does. He tells you before you’re even awake, before he leaves for work, during work, and before bed. He utters those three times almost more than you do because he is scared if he doesn’t you might slip away, but that is also why he touches you so gently every time he’s close to you. 

Every morning, he traces the features of your face from your temples to your chin until you wake up. He kisses your temple when you’re busy making coffee, brushes his hand over your lower back when you’re brushing your teeth, or getting dressed for the day and he just happens to have to brush past you. 

He kisses you goodbye three times, one kiss for every word in ‘I love you’. And when he comes home, he kisses you once, but he doesn’t stop for a whole minute because he just needs to taste you after having been apart from you for so long. 

You can feel his love through his fleeting touches, the way he holds you close to his chest when you can’t sleep, and how he lays his head on your chest when he’s had a rough day because you are his only reprieve from the bustling of the city. You are his saving grace. When he touches you, even just for a second, he forgets the world.

So, when he tells you, “I love you,” on his way out the door and you answer with, “I know,” you mean it in the most literal sense of the word.

You know he loves you because he never fails to show you. 

You know he loves you because he will never let you forget it. 

He might never be able to give you peace, but peace, in your opinion, is overrated. He keeps your brittle heart warm. He keeps you safe. He would die for you, that much you know.

He has proven time and time again how much you mean to him, and yet he never feels it’s quite enough. He never feels like he is enough for you. Not good enough. Not pure enough. Not easy enough or safe enough. 

“As long as I’m part of your life,” he’d said once, “you’re always gonna be in danger, and one day, I might not be able to stop you from getting hurt.”

“It wouldn’t be your fault,” you’d told him.

“No, it would. You deserve better. So much better.”

But you only took his hand in yours, intertwined your fingers, and said, “I deserve you.”

If he lost you, Matt wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Having one more person he loves die in his arms would kill him. He would fall to his knees then and beg God to take him, too. He would beg the earth to open up and take him to hell because he is sure he has sinned enough to make it straight to the fiery pits of hell. 

His sins can not be forgiven, no matter how much he prays. You know he thinks like that more often than he cares to admit, and even when you try to tell him how good he is, he refuses to listen.

Loving you is his penance. 

Telling you how much he loves you is not enough, so he has to show it some other way. He has to work to earn it, he thinks, so he does. He will love you until his heart is bleeding on the floor—until he has sacrificed his very soul to you. Only then will he be worthy of redemption.

He’s utterly broken, but you wouldn’t stick around if you didn’t think he’s worth it. You can help him. You can take his hand and tell him time and time again that he is enough, and you will do so until he finally believes you.

Whether it takes two years or two lifetimes, you don’t care. You will never tire of trying because, to you, Matt Murdock is more than enough.

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @ethereal-blaze @littleagxs @ravenclaw617 @lucienofthelakes @steve-chandler

[brucewaynehater101]

I have a vent fic wip that I may or may not finish so I just need to tell someone that I am...feeling so many things all the time about the consequences of the 16th birthday but...

primarily, right now, at this moment. without Robin/Bruce, Tim thought he would lose Dick and everyone else he knew through Robin. and then a little bit later when he quit for Jack, he got radio silence for Months until he became a potential victim, and even then it was just Cass stopping in to give the message and be like "I'll watch you to keep you safe 👁️👁️ ok bye" and he had actual Proof that without Robin, he would lose everyone.

and then. Dick "you're my equal (even tho I'm drastically changing your life without your knowledge or permission), you're my closest ally (even tho you don't even have a name to go out in the field to assist me as backup), I need you (even tho, as mentioned, I made a huge decision without your input because I didn't need it because I know best actually)" Grayson.

skipping over the fact that Dick didn't even have the time to say "you're fired" or anything resembling that, when Tim lost "Robin" to Damian, he felt like he lost everything else too. it didn't matter what Dick said about "equals" or "allies" or "needing". he already had Concrete Proof that it was all false. cheap words that are easily disproven do nothing in this situation, Dichard!

(disclaimer: I love and respect Dick Grayson, I just also think Dick Stopped Existing as soon as he made Damian his Robin for the most pathetic stupid illogical risky-ass excuse he could ever give for making anyone Robin (or a vigilante in general). "because he'll kill someone again". who the fuck says that?? who thinks "oh no oh god oh fuck this kid is gonna go off the rails he's gonna kill someone, I need to Put Him In A Place Of Power Over Oblivious Innocent Untrained People Who Are Expecting A Kind And Empathetic Hero To Save Them" hUH???? ok sorry, I just wanted to rant about what Tim "losing Robin" meant)

I agree with ya. Dick Grayson is fantastic, but it seems weird that he nuked his entire relationship with Tim (a very strong one that other fans have referred to them as "The Brothers") for the new kid.

Yes, Damian is a ten year old traumatized kid who just lost the dad he didn't really have the chance to get to know. Yes, Damian needed guidance, boundaries, and compassion.

But DC spent so much time and effort building up Tim and Dick's rapport only to obliterate it once the "blood son" came in (I also love Damian. This is not hate on the kid. This is confused commentary on DC's choices). It's just a strange idea, but that's also why it hurts so much when Dick does that to Tim.

Then you tie in Tim losing Robin by Dick to Tim's experiences before? Fuck. You are so right for that.

As far as the RR run, Dick could've handled Tim believing Bruce a bit better. I don't necessarily blame him for that one. I get why he wasn't supportive in the way Tim wanted, even though I would've chosen differently for my siblings.

Dick taking Robin, though? That was fucked up. I, honest to the gods, do not see how that was a justified course of action. I can understand his perspective, but it's still not okay. At all.

There's your very adequate analysis:

Robin, for Tim, is his tie to his loved ones. He has proof (twice) that without it, he does not have access to the people he cares about and his support system.

Dick said a lot of pretty words about "equals," but his actions were precisely contradictory to his "intentions."

Tim has had Robin taken from him before or had to give it up. He chose to go back despite this. He obviously feels strongly about being Robin

Damian has not proven, at this point, to be trustworthy as a vigilante (someone in power without oversight). He has instead shown use of excessive force

This isn't even going into the way he found out. That's just an extra layer.

The way Tim has repeated lost and regained Robin (even after RR) as well as his title as Red ROBIN are, to me, a sign that he's still trying to hold on. It's my belief that he would have moved onto a new title, like his predecessors, if it hadn't constantly been an unsure role.

His start was rocky as hell due to Bruce not initially wanting it. Tim had to prove himself and put himself into the costume.

He "quit" twice before it was taken from him in a traumatic way (nothing like being instilled with the fear that the position you've held for four years can suddenly be yanked out from under you without warning)

Damian and Jason both vehemently protested to him being Robin

It would make sense if all of these factors combined to Tim's unwillingness or inability to just let Robin go, especially when we factor in his reason to be Robin. Since Bruce never really gets "better" and continually falls back into bad habits, Tim needs to maintain his task of pulling Bruce back from the edge. We could also throw Jean Paul into this to further how Tim is forced to play as the barrier between a grown adult and their desire to harm others in the name of good.

So, Tim's time as Robin is marked by consistent instability while contrasted with his inherent position as Bruce's leash and the batfam fixer. While the other Robins did have times of doubt, the predecessors of Tim did not have the pervasive role insecurity with regards to Robin.

They had their big moment at the end and some smaller moments in-between, but not quite on the continous scale of Tim. Tim had three big moments and was still sucked back into Robin when Damian quit.

To be Robin is to earn Bruce's love and the ability to be part of the Wayne family. To lose Robin is the risk of losing that (at least to the perspectives of the Robins if not 100% the reality).

I'm not sure I'm articulating this accurately. Regardless, no wonder Tim clutches the title of Robin with bleeding hands no matter how much it cuts him and costs him.

[adragonsfriend]

Use this one trick to instantly fix all childhood trauma (Jedi Masters don’t want you to know this)!!!!!

That is what every “if Obi-Wan had just— *adds one extra scene to canon* —then Anakin would’ve had perfect mental health and never listened to Palpatine at all,” sounds like to me. Look I am not an expert on any kind of psychology at all let alone early childhood development but,

It is possible to do your very best to help or raise someone and still have bad or imperfect outcomes, especially when you have someone actively, secretly working against you (cough cough Sith Lord of the month cough), (for many reasons, but in this case particularly), because unravelling the mindset built in early childhood is hard, actually.

Coming at this from the “raised in a safe and loving environment” side of things, it took me years to figure out and internalize that my friends whose parents weren’t as great as mine were functioning in an entirely different landscape when it came to their interactions with adults.

Many years ago when I was in middle school a friend (acquaintance? idk I think most people thought I was annoying) told me that her ankle kept giving out and causing her pain. I asked if she'd told her parents so she could rest or go to the doctor. She told me she had, but her mother either hadn't listened or refused to help. My (approximate) responses?

"So it's not actually that bad then?"

"You should tell her again."

"Are you sure you explained it right?"

The only explanation I could comprehend at the time was that there must have been some unclear communication about the situation or its severity--if her mother had understood she was in pain, she couldn't possibly have just not done anything about it? Adults are responsible, caring, etcetera! They wouldn't do that?!

With more experience, I've come to understand better, and learned to respond in kinder, more helpful ways, but the shift in mindset was not and is not intuitive.

And I had the luxury of figuring all that out whilst being safe myself. Coming from the other direction, being in danger and trying to figure out why other people act like the world is safe? I can't say for sure, but I imagine it’s a lot more complicated.

Point with regard to Star Wars being, it really is harder for Anakin, coming in later, to acclimate to the Jedi ways and thought processes than it is for his peers who grew up in the safe environment of the Temple. And whatever arguments people want to have about how much psychology and therapy exist in the Star Wars universe, or how much “Jedi just do cognitive behavioral therapy” (not totally inaccurate, but reductive on several levels), no matter what the answers to those questions, it will still be harder for Anakin.

There is a reason the council changes its mind on training him only after he is suddenly famous and the Sith are proven to be back. When Anakin was not in significant danger of being snatched up by someone else, it was genuinely probably the easier and safer option—for him and everyone else—for him to live a different life.

The Jedi are not necessarily fully prepared for a child with Anakin's history, and, there is nothing bad about living an ordinary life. Anakin would not have been somehow unforgivably robbed by living life as a mechanic or an engineer or something, rather than being a Jedi.

Anakin is a victim of many things in his life—Sidious, Watto, Gardulla, Tatooine’s everything, his own conscious choices—but he is not a victim of malice, incompetence, or idiocy by the Jedi just because they couldn't—in only a decade or so—help him fully and perfectly unravel the mindset he developed in his early childhood. If there was any lack of qualification on their part, it was one they were aware of—but which was outweighed by the danger of little Anakin getting kidnapped out of normal-kid elementary school.

Being brought up in and around slavery absolutely made him more vulnerable to Sidous and became the basis of their dynamic as master and apprentice. Acting like the trauma that affects his mindset and actions for his entire life can be obliterated just by making minimal changes to the plot is wild to me.

And don’t get me wrong, fics and headcanons can do whatever they want, not everyone wants or is trying to write a deep psychological character study (also fanfic and even fiction in general cannot and should not be held to any standard of realism if it's not serving the story and the author)—simple fix-it’s (my love) are fun and an excellent short-cut to other things like happiness and fluff (my other loves)—but don’t act serious about the idea that adding one conversation about his feelings or one extra explanation about Jedi philosophy would automatically lead to Anakin having perfect mental health outcomes and always making good decisions.

Disclaimer (if the ones throughout weren't enough) : please go forth and do whatever you want. the moral of this post is actually just that (1) you won’t convince me, (2) I wanted to talk about this, (3) the clickbait title was too funny not to post, (4) i literally can't open my mouth without phrasing things like i'm in the middle of a heated debate, and (5) i continue to not be an expert in early childhood development—my evidence is very literally anecdotal

[respectthepetty]

In the context of Happy of the End's seventh and eighth episode, it makes sense that Chihiro is being lit up by the car's headlights as he awaits whatever punishment Maya has in store for him, but narratively, it's a beautiful reminder that even in the darkest moment, Chihiro is still light.

When he gets out of the situation thanks to some stray, but persistent, observers, he is still bright in the hospital bed although he is bruised, beaten, and rattled.

Because the one who is truly bothered by all of this is Black Brooder Haoran.

He blames himself for what has happened, and no matter how light Chihiro is, Haoran believes that his dark past will hurt Chihiro, and this incident has not only escalated his fears, but proven that the darkness has already gotten to Chihiro.

Chihiro's cracked arm is a constant reminder of this. It's nestled safely in its black sling, but that black is a visual indicator that Haoran's dark life is no longer in the past, but is alive in the present and harming Chihiro.

So while Chihiro stands in the light unaware of what's taking shape in Haoran,

Haoran isolates and moves back into the darkness.

Because to him, Chihiro will always be light.

And he and his dark past are the problem.

Chihiro continues to prove that he has never seen Haoran this way, and even when confronted with Haoran's troubles, time and time again, Chihiro has embraced them with love and light.

So they run away together. They venture around the beach on a sunny day. They align their colors in the best way they know how with Chihiro still light, and Haoran still dark.

But, that's the point. Haoran is still dark. He still thinks he is the problem. He is the one tainting Chihiro. He is the one who brings darkness wherever he goes and Chihiro would be light and bright without him. So he walks into the dark water, yet Chihiro drags him back.

And that's when Haoran makes one final attempt to rid Chihiro of his darkness. It's not that he tells Chihiro to leave him. It's that Haoran tells him that he is turning himself in. Since Chihiro won't stay away from Haoran, Haoran will do what he does best. Isolate, lock himself away, and cage himself up just like he was taught to do with a piece of luggage all those years ago.

Because Chihiro will be much lighter without him. He will be bright and happy. And we see that three years, Haoran was right.

But it's not because Haoran is no longer in Chihiro's life. Haoran is still very much part of Chihiro's life in the friends Chihiro still has and the people who help him. Chihiro never had this before. His family disowned him. He had no friends. But, now, because of Haoran, he has people he can depend on.

When Haoran is released from prison, he is lighter, but immediately walks into the darkness. Unlike the other times, we clearly see the light at the end. He won't stay in this darkness for long.

The black and darkness will always be there, but he will sit in the sun, and he will be lighter.

He will go for walks. He will be the light he needs.

So when he sees Chihiro and breaks down, he will believe the decision he made was right because Chihiro is fulfilling all his dreams without the darkness that was Haoran's life.

Which is why I loved that the shirt Chihiro wears is grey.

Which, once again, shows that Chihiro carries Haoran with him in everything he does.

Chihiro has accomplished his goals, but it's not because he doesn't have Haoran with him. It's because he always has Haoran with him. In the places they have gone together.

And the places they lived together. There are little glimpses of their life together in Chihiro's photography because without Haoran, Chihiro wouldn't be alive. Chihiro wouldn't have a reason to live. Chihiro wouldn't have a life filled with people who care about him and a job he once believed he was never meant for.

So it's important that Haoran comes face-to-(covered) face with himself before he sees Chihiro because it's important that he sees himself in Chihiro's life, and that he sees himself in Chihiro. Because there in the white frame is the light of Chihiro's life.

So even though Chihiro is in a white jacket with a blue shirt,

And Haoran is in black, he proudly wears the blue scarf Chihiro gave him to match him just like their last day together.

And he allows his picture to be taken.

Because Haoran finally understands that he never darkened Chihiro's world, and Chihiro's huge smile when he sees him proves it.

Haoran, even with all his darkness, was the happiest part of Chihiro's miserable existence. Haoran was the bright spot in Chihiro's life when he needed it most. Haoran is light, and when he picked Chihiro out of the trash, he changed Chihiro's entire life.

These color-coded boys in love get a happy ending because they showed that no matter how much darkness exists, there is always light.

And they were each other's light.

[charliemwrites]

Girl rage, girl rage, girl rage!!

CW for Simon being a Jerk and a Creep, mentions of violence and murder, and kidnapping.

One time in high school, there was a boy that wouldn’t leave you alone. You gave him a million chances to knock it off, growing more and more hostile, snapping your teeth. The inappropriate touches in the hall, the lewd comments at lunch breaks, the fucking pictures. Nothing salacious, just long shots of you from afar, trying to go about your day.

One day he reached for your chest and you snapped two of his fingers. His parents wailed that you ruined his rugby career. You told them he should get better at football.

When you’re annoyed, you crack the knuckles of those same fingers on your own hand.

It’s the first thing you do when you wake up in a bare, grey basement, laid on a thin cot on the ground. Pop, pop. Recalibrating your foggy mind.

You don’t quite remember how you got here. Last clear thing is the bar. Doesn’t matter how you got here though, at least for the moment - just that you are here. And you don’t want to be.

You’re handcuffed, chain looped through an exposed pipe above your head. You clink it once, twice. Decide it’s fairly sturdy and take stock of everything else.

Your stomach is a bit tight with nausea - drug induced, you figure. Ugh. And your head aches, nothing a glass of water won’t fix.

But all your clothes are intact, no ache between your thighs or burgeoning bruises on your breasts. No shoes, though. Bummer, you liked those.

You crack the knuckles on your other hand; pop, pop.

You think of the scent of cheap whiskey, shattered glass, policemen wrapping you in a shock blanket. Remember your date chocking on his own vomit in a dark alley, then someone much bigger and stronger grabbing you as you tried to leave.

Hm.

The pipes are warm. You settle back against them and wait.

—

You don’t scream when Simon enters the basement. Don’t make a single peep. You shift against the pipes, tucking your feet under you as he approaches. Your eyes are so big, rounded as you peer up at him through your lashes.

“Such a smart girl,” he coos, “staying quiet for me. Or are you just that scared?”

You blink at him, the tiniest indent dimpling your bottom lip from your teeth. He crouches down in front of you, arms balanced on his knees. You’re curled up so small. He wants to bundle you in his lap, tuck you away.

“It’s alright, little one,” he soothes. “There’s no need to be scared.”

You twitch a bit, the metal cuffs clicking together. He flicks his eyes to them, sighs.

“Those are so that you don’t do something stupid,” he explains patiently. “Like you did earlier.”

A little furrow of confusion creases your brows. He exhales, amused despite himself. So precious, his girl. Like you can’t fathom why he would be upset with you.

“Going out with a strange man.”

He tuts, feels that black rage simmering again, same he felt when he realized you and that slime were no longer at the bar.

“He almost hurt you in that alley,” he reminds, “had he not been so drunk he tripped over his own fucking feet.”

He takes a second to breathe, fingers twitching. They feel too dry, too clean. He was so worried about getting you home that he had no time to bother taking care of that scum.

“I tried to let you have your fun, baby. I really did. But I can’t — I can’t anymore. The world is far too dangerous.” He brushes the backs of his fingers down your cheek, coos at the little shudder that runs through you. “And you’ve proven that you can’t take care of yourself.”

Your lips part. Shock, confusion, protest. It doesn’t matter, he’s more distracted feeling the soft give of your plush bottom lip beneath his thumb, bitten pink.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he soothes. “I’ll take care of you from now on.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, dropping your head to your arm. He hums.

“I know, sweet girl, I know. This is for the best, I promise.”

You sniffle a bit, blink wet eyes open. Wet your lips with the tip of your pretty pink tongue.

“What… what do I call you?” you ask, voice soft and raspy.

Oh, such a sweet thing. Such a sweet, clever girl. You’re going to be so, so good for him.

“Just Ghost for now, luv. Let me get you some water, you’ve earned it.”

—

You exhale slow and soft, counting every fourth heartbeat. If you don’t, you’ll start trying to break things. The smart money is on your bones giving before that stupid pipe. So. Breathing it is.

You’ve never felt out of control in anger. Everything is always so sharp and clear, you think and move with a precision you usually can’t coax from mind or body.

This… Ghost, though.

It was a pleasant surprise that he didn’t realize what you did in the alley. Too dark, perhaps. Too quiet. Perhaps he thought you were fleeing in fear.

It’s an advantage you can’t squander. He’s much bigger than you, much stronger. Carries himself with posture and purpose reminiscent of military or former military bearing. There’s a physicality to the way he moves that echos violence.

You know that you will only get one proper shot to escape. There is no point wasting it on shouting and cursing and snarling. Even if he did only consider it bluster and bark, it would plant seeds of doubt in his mind. Make him careful and conscious of any slip ups.

Sometimes, rabid animals appear friendly or docile. The virus gets a new victim close enough to turn and bite, spreading and infecting.

You run your tongue over your teeth, imagine the taste of blood if you’d bitten through his thumb like you wanted to. Inhale and exhale again, start the counter over.

Pause to resist another sneeze, blinking past watery eyes and sniffling it away. Christ, he couldn’t have at least cleaned the basement before chaining you up down here? Could barely focus on his ridiculous monologue through the allergies.

Not that you think you missed much; and you’re sure you’ll be hearing it again.

He’s just like every other man you’ve ever killed, you muse, settling in again. And it’ll be so, so sweet watching the blood bloom.