https://www.tumblr.com/mikkomacko/781810199990255616/what-if-you-give-luke-a-girlfriend-and-her-and

ANOTHER ITALIAN SO IT’S ANOTHER THING TO BOND OVER? just a thought but it would be so cute to catch them gossiping and luke and nico bonding over feeling left out from the conversation and both of them planning how to get them away from each other for like 10 minutes because they’re both big softies who need their woman’s attention!

Reader would be so proud omg like when Luke tells her all shy, “She’s Italian too. Not like you and Johnny, her great grandparents were the ones that left Italy, but like she speaks Italian a bit.”

She’d be gagged. She’s like “Oh my god Luke! You have to bring her to the bar to hang out!”

Later she’ll tell Nico, “it’s probably good he’s dating an Italian girl. Food is our love language and that boy can eat.”

And Nico is like “Yeah I know. Between the two of us you’ve been putting in overtime.”

Luke does eventually take her the bar and he’s so nervous about the other guys being weird that he’s begging reader, “Promise you’ll stay by her all night? I mean it, who knows what Curtis and Haula will say to her.”

So reader and Johnny spend the whole time at the booth with her, bonding over the bits of Italian she does know and telling stories, and when she maybe doesn’t know what a word means reader is so quick for translate for her because she knows it sucks to feel left out of a conversation like that due to a language barrier.

They all get along so well Luke and Nico are pretty much spend the night with each other, playing cards over the table top and getting drinks for the three Italian gossipers.

“I think you fucked up,” Nico tells him after a while of not even being able to talk to reader, just sitting next to her with her arm linked through his or her hand on his thigh.

Luke looks over at the table with a bittersweet grimace. “Yeah we’re never getting them back are we?”

Nico huffs. “I think if I get her drunk enough she won’t be able to leave me alone so that would work. The issue will be Johnny.”

“We can get him drunk too.” Luke offers but Nico is shutting it down immediately.

“No he’ll also be all over me if he’s drunk.”

stopp that was so cute. now i’m thinking of reader helping luke get ready for a first date and she’s like nico’s pretty romantic why don’t you ask him for advice too

“Guys?”

Nico looks up from the mixing bowl of cream cheese frosting, pausing his whisking when he notices the way Luke is anxiously holding onto the edges of his shirt.

Perched on the counter where you were previously watching over his baking, you now share a concerned look before looking to Luke, forcing an airy smile.

“What’s up Lukey?” You ask, and the boy makes a weird twitchy motion with his arms, tentatively stepping further into the kitchen.

“Can I ask you guys something?”

“You just did,” Nico says, wincing when you smack at his shoulder. You give a look, Nico placing his mixing spoon against the edge of the bowl and standing up straight.

“Of course you can,” you amend, waving him into the kitchen. Luke takes a nervous breath, treading lightly as he leans his elbows onto the bar stools across from you too.

“I think I have a date.” He says, eyebrows pinching together and Nico almost laughs. If the energy in here weren’t so serious he might. How does he not know if he has a date or not?

“That’s great Luke!” You gasp, slipping off the edge of the counter and leaning onto it instead, eager to hear all the details.

“I just…” Luke cringes, “haven’t really been on a date. What do I like wear or take her to do?”

For the umpteenth time in his life, Nico thanks the universe you’re here because he’s gone his fair of dates, but they’ve all been with you. And by the time he actually took you on a date, he’d been sleeping with you for months.

“Well do you have any ideas of what you’d want to do?” You ask gently and Luke, helpless, shakes his head.

“What did you guys do?”

Two pairs of eyes fall on him, Luke’s begging and yours overly fond. Like just the question of a first date has you giggling and blushing remembering the one he shared with you.

“I mean, it was different for us,” Nico explains carefully, and out of the corner of his eyes he sees your form rise, arms crossing over your chest as you await his next words.

“We’d been seeing each other for a bit before we went on a date,” he continues, “so she knew a lot about me and my life.”

“You still had to plan a date though, right?” Luke prods and Nico nods. “So what was it?”

“A boat ride.” He says and at the same time you respond, “Lego building.”

The kitchen goes silent, you and Nico both turning to each other with confused gazes. Almost offended, you jab a finger into his apron covered chest. “That’s our first date to you?!”

He scoffs, “You accept Legos as a date?”

“Yes,” you frown, “you went all out for it. There were candles and you made a little pallet on the floor with pillows and we had wine. That’s romantic!”

“A sunset boat ride with dinner is romantic.” He counters.

“You did a lot of romantic things!” You defend, “Maybe you don’t know it because Mr. Stone cold Mafia Boss couldn’t admit he had a heart, but we were dating long before that boat ride.”

Nico pauses because you’re right technically. He did have those Lego nights with you, the ones with cheesy movies and takeout and wine as his way of dating you without admitting to himself he was dating you. And while they were so fun and some of his favorite moments with you, he never saw them as dates. Never saw them as anything good enough to be labeled a date, especially not for you.

“I mean, it was just legos. That’s not special enough to be a date right?”

Your features soften, eyes going all moony.

“You thought I was building Lego’s with a fuck buddy Hisch? Some of those legos are still in this house.”

He can feel his neck getting warm, embarrassed that this conversation is happening in front of Luke of all people.

“I-I don’t know. Sometimes we fucked afterwards.”

Luke makes a gagging noise. “Alright stop. Obviously we’ve got a mix up here which is what I’m trying to avoid-“ he pointedly looks at Nico. “How did you know it was a date?”

It’s directed at you this time, and you turn to Luke with a cute little shrug. “I mean it’s Nico. It’s obvious when something means something to him and that night he just…was different. It felt different, it felt like a date.”

Luke blinks, staring at you in disbelief. “I think you’re the only person that can describe a Nico emotion as obvious.”

You laugh a little, bumping your hip against Nico’s and he can’t help but grab at your waist, pulling you into his side. He had no idea you knew, that you saw him that wholly even back then. When he was still playing denial games with his heart, you knew it all.

“I can’t believe you accepted a first date that was that lame.” He teases, his heart fluttering in his chest. “If it were with anyone else but me, I’d say you should’ve ran.”

You pinch at his side, shaking your head in amusement. “I had fun with you,” you say earnestly, “and it was intimate. You and me. I remember thinking that night that there was no way you were actually a mob boss, that the person in front of me building floral Lego’s could kill someone.”

Nico blushes, shrugging bashfully. He never thought of it that way. That was one of the first times you saw him as just him, off guard in the privacy of his secure home, without the haze of lust or sex.

It was intimate, raw feeling. Hell he had picked Lego’s in the first place because he was so nervous he didn’t know what to do with his hands, needing something to keep them busy.

“Well why’d you say the boat ride?”

A little startled, Nico looks to Luke, having completely forgotten he was there in the first place.

“Well when I told her I was picking her up that night, it was the first big thing I had ever planned. I mean, I had to do reservations and plan food and what to wear and if it would be a day that worked with her schooling. It was just a big deal and I thought you deserved a first date that was a big deal. Special ya know?”

Luke’s mouth is open. “Wait you rented a whole boat with dinner for a first date?”

“Umm yeah?”

His voice is a pitch higher when he rushes out, “well I can’t do that! I can’t pull off the mafioso, rich first date!”

You laugh, holding out two hands in a calming motion. “You don’t have to go big Luke,” you ease him. “You can find a good middle. To Nico, Legos were too small for a first date. To me, a private boat ride was too big for a first date. But it worked because it was meant to be.”

Luke lets out a whiny huff. “I think I’m even more confused. I mean Nico pulled you doing both of those and he didn’t even realize it. So what do I do?”

“Ok,” you say thoughtfully, “just pick something that’ll make you comfortable, something familiar. And just fine tune the details, make them romantic or personal. That’s what makes it’s a date.”

“Intentional,” Nico adds, “you gotta show her that you put some effort in without having to say it. Because if you say it-“

“Well then you’re just cocky.” You finish for him. “For example, the Lego date, I loved it because it was different. It was something I hadn’t done with Nico before and it was just light and sweet. But I loved the boat ride too because it was when I knew things had changed for him.”

Curiously, Nico nudges you. “You knew I was serious then?”

You bite your lip a bit, nodding. “Yeah. I mean you had trimmed your beard and you were wearing actual nice clothes. And no hat. I remember almost tripping over my feet when I saw you because you just looked so…romantic.”

Nico had trimmed his beard for that. And he’d agonized over what to wear, what looked casual enough to not freak you out but nice enough for you to know it was a date. And he’d even gotten a hair cut, though it seems like you hadn’t noticed.

“You looked nice too,” he reminisces, “your sundress and the way you had your hair. I thought you looked like a Bond girl or something, all pretty on a yacht with me.”

You don’t say anything to him, but you lean into his side, cheeks tinging pink. Letting out an airy breath, you look to Luke again.

“What was your idea for the date?”

He shrugs. “Ice skating maybe? I know I’m at least good at it and then if I get nervous I don’t have to actually be looking right at her ya know?”

“Oh that’s perfect!” You compliment, lacing your hands together with excitement. “It’s the perfect balance of sweet but innocent.”

“Casual,” Nico adds thinking of the Lego date, “but romantic too.” Like the boat date.

“Really?” Luke asks incredulously. “You think it’s ok?”

“She’ll love it,” you assure. “Just do the classic love story, clichés ok? That’s where the magic is.”

Nico bites back a laugh when Luke’s expression turns helpless again. “What do you mean? Clichés?”

And oh god Nico can’t take this anymore.

“Look Luke,” he says, that bit of mob authority dripping into his tone. “It’s a date, one you planned and are taking the lead on. So show her that. You gotta be…a man. And not in a douchey, toxic way. You just need to make sure she feels seen, paid attention to.”

“Safe,” you say softly, “hold her hand when you’re skating so she won’t fall. And make sure she’s wearing her seatbelt in the car. That her jacket or gloves or whatever are warm enough. Stuff like that.”

Luke nods. “Like tying her skates for her?”

Nico smiles. “Yeah that’s perfect. And speaking from experience, make sure she’s not hungry or thirsty or whatever. You don’t have to be overbearing, but as long as she knows you care and you’re paying attention, it’ll work out.”

He seems more relaxed when he looks between you two, no longer fidgeting and nervously twitching. “Feed her too? That’s not like too much? Dinner and skating?”

Nico groans in disbelief. “No it’s not too much. Just take my card and you can borrow one of the nice cars, and make sure she’s comfortable, ok?”

Luke nods, then turns to you. “Can I get ready here? Like you’ll help me with my hair and stuff?”

“Of course,” you smile warmly, “I’d love to.”

You both give him a minute, his gaze on the counter top as he takes everything in but then he’s standing up straight, nodding his head with a new found confidence. “Ok, yeah. Thanks guys.”

“No problem bud,” Nico says and you both silently watch as he makes his way back to the living room where the other boys are.

“He’s going to throw up isn’t he?” You ask

“Oh yeah,” Nico agrees, propping his hip against the counter so he can look at you. “Maybe I shouldn’t have offered one of our cars.”

You laugh, smile all beautiful and eyes bright and soft. Even with him covered in powdered sugar residue and smears of dried cake batter, and you press into his chest.

“The Legos,” Nico murmurs, “they were a date. I just didn’t want you to know that. Thinking that I gave you a cheap first date or something. But it was a date to me too.”

“I was in college Nico,” you say, “Lego’s were not a cheap date to me.”

Chuckling to himself, Nico leans down to press his lips to yours.

“The boat ride,” you murmur against his mouth and he hums in acknowledgment, palming at your hips. “You did look so good. So good I wanted to fuck you on the deck of the boat.”

Smirking, he pecks your lips again. “Yeah baby I know.”

But you didn’t and he didn’t either. Because it was romantic and sweet and everything a perfect date should be.

need a blurb of mob nico coming home to reader teaching luke how to tame and style his curls

Omg ok so I’ve always tried to keep reader pretty vague that way everyone can have they’re own perception of what she looks like haha

But I mean my girl is Italian so her hair would most like be textured/wavy/curly ya know??

I can so see Luke coming up to her one night at the bar and just being like “your hair looks really nice.”

And she’s smiling, a little caught off guard but flattered by the compliment. “Thanks Luke, that’s so sweet.”

“Do you-I mean like what stuff do you put it your hair to make it look that nice?”

Reader is so eager to sharing her product line up because her and Johnny have perfected it. Like it’s immaculate. So she’s getting all excited and listing off stuff and Luke has no idea what any of it is. He just nods until she stops talking and then goes kinda shy.

“Do you think you could teach me? Some of the boys have been saying my hair looks bad and that I should comb it or something but it just gets bigger when I do that!”

And oh my goodness reader’s whole day is made. She’s so excited, making plans to take him to the store to pick stuff out and then he can come to the house and she’ll show him how to use everything.

He comes over early Saturday morning for his little beauty lesson and because this is such a big deal, he even gets access to the overly large bathroom attached to reader and Nico’s bedroom.

Which is where Nico finds them when he comes home from his run, shirt damp with sweat and plastered to his skin uncomfortably. He just wants to get in the shower, get dressed for the day, and then spend the day lounging around with his girl.

Unfortunately he’s stopped by the sight of Luke sat on a stool from the kitchen, a towel wrapped around his shoulders and wet hair dripping down his forehead.

“Uhhh what’s happening here?”

Her and Luke both freeze, turning to him with the same deer in headlights look. Reader smiles then, waving the bottle of leave in conditioner in her hand.

“Luke is learning,” is all she says and Nico just nods, moving into the bathroom and perching against the counter to watch them. His clothes are drying and feel odd and gross on his skin, but he doesn’t care.

Because it’s actually entertaining to watch her explain everything to Luke, to make him tip his head upside down while she scrunches mouse into it and then curl the shorter pieces by his face with her finger, and even when she puts two claw clips in the wet ringlets on top of his head.

“For volume,” she explains simply, that look of pure concentration on her face that makes her look so cute. And Luke is hanging on her every word, like a school child, obediently nodding his head and asking questions.

Nico remembers the first time he watched this exact same routine, listened to her tell him about everything and while Nico knew she sometimes hated doing it, he loves her hair when it’s naturally styled, just a bit frizzy and curling around her face and neck.

He always wished his hair wasn’t so pin straight, so flat all the time. So yeah he admires it, admires her, and if he pictures this same moment in the future with mini version of him and her instead of Luke sat in that chair, well then that’s his little secret for now.

Afterwards, when Luke’s hair is mostly dry and he’s given up on trying to figure out the diffuser, he’s looking to Nico with his mouth parted in shock. “Did you know so much work went into this?”

And Nico is laughing. “Yeah man. I watch her get ready almost everyday.”

https://www.tumblr.com/mikkomacko/781686105205620736/mobreader-makes-johnny-pastina-when-hes-sick-and

oh my god that is too sweet! but also imagine the first time one of her actual kiddos gets sick and she does this but 100 times more intense. like she’s not just making pastina, she’s also asking nico and timo what swiss comfort foods she can make and she’s making huge batches of food. she’s so deep into mama bear mode that if anyone so much as sniffles near her she’s sending them home with containers of food. i mean moose sneezes once and she’s making him dog friendly pastina and singing him lullabies.

(luke is confused but delighted when he gets sent home with three tubs of food after he coughed once because he accidentally inhaled while he was drinking some water)

Mob Nico is the kind of dad that every time one of the kids is sick, so is he. And he never got sick before so Timo and you rib him for it and says he’s faking and whatnot.

He insists though that it’s the stress of being a dad, that seeing the babies sick makes him sick too. And even with all your teasing, you pull out all the stops to baby him, especially since it’s not something you ever got to do when it was just the two of you.

You’re making Timo teach you ever comforting Swiss meal he can think of, feeding bits of it to Nico after the two of you have spoon fed the kids and they’re snuggled into Nico, cold medicine kicking in and making them sleepy. He just looks so perfect with the kids under both arms, blankets thrown over them and stuffies squished between his body and theirs. He’s giving you those moony eyes, throughly enjoying being pampered by you, being under that extra motherly gaze and love you have when it comes to taking care of someone sick.

“You gonna sing us to sleep?” He croaks, smiling a little too innocently and the babies are blinking their eyes open at his words, looking at you with the exact same baby cow eyes they’re daddy has and you really can’t tell them no then.

It does put you on edge though when Timo starts coughing, and then he’s getting ushered to the couch too and a bowl of food shoved in his hands with instructions to eat at least 10 big bites before he can have some medicine and go to sleep.

At this point you’re convinced it’s gonna hit all the boys (it doesn’t, just Timo because he’s been around the house with Nico and the sick kids).

When Luke and Jack come over to check on everyone, make sure you don’t need any help or anything, and you can hear him coughing in the other room, you’re locking in.

Already packaged leftovers of pastina and the soups Timo taught you to make, shoving them in a reusable bag with some Gatorades and cold medicine.

Turns out Luke just has allergies but he’s not going to say that to you, not when you’re sending home with so much food. Anytime someone gets sick after that he comes to the house and pretends to be feeling under the weather so you’ll feed him extra.

Even when you and Nico catch onto the bit, you do it anyway because it’s Luke of course.

did you see the post from the devilsfanatic’s page yesterday of them saying luke went to see john and got dinner with him i wanna hear more of that poly couple with the reader catching dinner with them visiting john i miss my babies 😪

mob!reader makes johnny pastina when he’s sick and sings him italian lullabies

Nico doesn’t know how it happens, if there’s a big sign on the door everyone but him can read or something, but whenever a cold strikes the Devils, his living room turns into an urgent care.

Johnny doesn’t even bother texting him this morning to say he’s sick. Instead he shows up at the door at 5 am, runny nose and bags under his eyes, sweating out a fever.

And like you always do for the boys, you usher him inside and sit him on the couch, wrap him in blankets because he can’t stop shivering. By the time Nico makes breakfast and gets ready for work, you’ve set up a full recovery ward in the living room and have Johnny sleeping with an ice pack on his forehead.

Which it must be a tough cold or something because Johnny is the exact same way when Nico gets home from work. Except for the fact that he’s now wearing a fresh pair of clothes, courtesy of Timo who you sent to Johnny’s apartment to get some overnight things and make sure his place wasn’t on fire or something.

Nico’s not very good at taking care of the boys like that but he makes himself a reminder in his phone to send a cleaning person to Johnny’s tomorrow, make sure it’s neat and tidy for when he gets back. Because knowing you, you were already planning on doing it yourself.

He’ll just beat you to the punch.

Johnny barely moves when you serve dinner for Nico and Timo, bowls of something you call pastina that Nico’s never seen before but it turns out better than he thought it’d be. Even Timo seems impressed with it, despite the way he’d made a questioning face to Nico when your back was turned.

“Is it pasta or rice?” He muttered, skeptical and Nico frowned.

“I thought it was like a soup?”

Either way it’s good, filling and warm but not overly so. Perfect for someone who would be under the weather.

You don’t eat with them, instead sitting on the couch between Nico and Johnny, the poor guy propped up on pillows and still shivering as you feed him little bites of the pastina. You hadn’t bothered to serve yourself a bowl so Nico makes you eat bites of his between feeding Johnny.

And he ignores the way it makes his chest grow hot, seeing you fawn of Marino with his messy curls that somehow still look nice and his lazy, toothy smile he keeps giving you, blinking all slow and soft at you. Some friend he is, Nico thinks, not bothering to make sure you eat too, to make sure that you don’t get sick too.

His chest grows even hotter when Timo goes to leave for the night, having helped clean up the kitchen and stops Nico, who is sorting through the medicine cabinet for vitamin C.

“Relax man,” he says gently, “she’s not in love with him or anything. She just cares, a lot.”

Nico’s not jealous, he thinks, ignoring Timo’s words and locking the garage door behind his friend. He’s not jealous at all. He’s just worried about you. Hates that you weren’t going to eat dinner and that you’re hovering over Johnny when it’s clear you’re tired too, that you need a break too.

“Here,” Nico tells you, keeping his voice low because Johnny is falling asleep again, tucked low under the blankets and you’re tossing another blanket over his feet.

You startle, blinking up at him curiously when he places the two chewable tablets in your hand.

“Take them,” Nico demands impatiently after you just stare at him. A little wide eyed by his tone, you pop them in your mouth, the vitamins crunching loudly as you dutifully chew them. He waits for you to finish before nodding to the stairs.

“Five minutes and I want you upstairs and in bed, got it?”

Again, you just nod dumbly, stuck watching him as he softly brushes your hair out of your face, shooting Johnny’s a reproachful look over you shoulder and then Nico heads upstairs to get the bed ready for you.

He pulls down the blankets, lays out one of his shirts and boxers for you, turns out the lights and even puts on the tv show you always watch when you go to bed. But then it’s well over five minutes and you’re still not up here, so Nico is angrily dragging his feet down the stairs to quite literally carry your ass to bed when he freezes.

Half way down the stairs he hears it, the soft lull of your voice. Almost like the humming noise you make to soothe him or Moose to sleep, but different. Because you’re murmuring actual words, the tune of them soft and clear.

He listens for another beat, realizes you’re singing something in an Italian and he can’t help himself. Sinking to the stairs, he sits and listens to you, the burning feeling in his gut turning to something solid and heavy.

So maybe he is jealous, he decides, but he’s also sad. Because there’s this whole side to you, this woman that sings Italian lullabies to the people she loves and he didn’t know. Nico’s always loved that you speak Italian still, that even though it attached you to the family that left you, you kept it near and dear to your heart.

He thought you also kept him near and dear to your heart, near enough for you to be able to speak and do these things with him, even if he doesn’t understand them.

Deciding to let you finish your song or whatever, Nico quietly makes his way upstairs and into bed. Not even a minute later you’re coming in after him, softly shutting the door behind you and he just watches you.

In the light of the television, your hair in a messy knot on your head and bags under your tired eyes but you look content. Like you love doing this, love taking care of people.

Nico imagines this scene years in the future, the soothing Italian song still hovering in the air as you change into his clothes for bed, being extra quiet because the other person in the house isn’t Johnny but maybe an actual child of yours. Yours and his.

You slip into bed next to him, curl into his side like you always do, head cushioned by his arm and Nico strokes his fingers over your shoulder, staring up at the ceiling.

After a moment, he can’t stop himself.

“What were you singing?”

You stretch your arm out over his stomach, fingers settling into the dips of his ribs and he feels you look up at him, try to catch his eye.

“A lullaby,” you whisper, “one my mom used to sing to me when I couldn’t sleep or didn’t feel good.”

Nico swallows, taking a slow breath through his nose. “I didn’t know-I mean I’ve never heard you sing like that.”

You roll onto your stomach, propped up to look at him and he lets you cup his face, tilt his jaw down until he’s looking into your sleepy eyes.

“I didn’t know if you’d care to hear a song in Italian.”

He can’t fault you for that, even if it hurts him a bit to know that you think he doesn’t care about your native tongue, about something so important to you.

After all, he doesn’t give you much with his Swiss German background. He’ll play that song for you, the love one that makes him think of you every time it pops in his head and while you smile all sweet at him when it comes on, he’s never bothered to tell you what it means. Because he didn’t think you’d care to know.

“I care about everything you care about,” he says softly, “even if I don’t understand it. The pastina and the song, if I knew that was something you do to care for someone, I would’ve done it for you baby.”

You smile, soft and gentle, tracing your fingers over the line of his bottom lip. “I like the way you take care of me. It’s you.”

Nico stares at you because he doesn’t know how to say this next part, how to admit it out loud. He just hopes you’ll somehow know.

And he guesses it’s a good thing he’s so obvious because you quickly add. “But I can do them for you next time, if that’s ok? Not that you ever get sick.”

Grateful, Nico smiles, his fingers still tickling your shoulder blade through his shirt. “I’ll get sick if it means you’ll sing to me, hover over me like that.”

You giggle a bit, settle back into his arm and he kisses the top of your head.

“You don’t have to get sick for me to hover over you Nico. I want to be around you all the time already.”

“Yeah?” He whispers, his heart thumping happily in his chest.

“Yeah,” you assure, “you’re my Nico. I want to do everything for you.”

ik this was probably for shits & giggles but you should actually do a blurb bc i feel it would be hilarious 😭😭😭

https://www.tumblr.com/mikkomacko/781653308836364288/mob-nico-hey-im-here-for-the-surprise-party

You’d said it as a joke to Jack and Luke when they wouldn’t leave you alone. You weren’t feeling great, had a headache all day that wouldn’t go away and just wanted quiet.

So when they turned to you after dinner and asked, “what’s your favorite thing?” you didn’t really know what to say. What does that even mean?

“Huh?”

“Like if you were a kid and someone asked what’s your favorite thing, what would you say?”

Even more confused, you frowned at them. “So you want to know what I liked when I was a kid?”

The two brothers shared a look, seeming to have a silent conversation with each other before Luke huffed.

“No like if someone wanted to get you a birthday present but didn’t want specifics, just like a general outline of something you like, what would you say?”

Maybe it was the headache. Maybe it was the weirdly worded question but that sensitive spot behind your left eye throbbed with annoyance. What does he mean? You already told them you wanted lowkey this year. A simple dinner somewhere with the boys. No drinking. After the chaos of your past birthdays with Timo, you decided to part way this year, give Nico a break from having to corral you two.

But just for this year.

“Stop asking her questions,” Nico called from the entryway to the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest. “Look at that face,” he gestures to you, “you’re making her crazy.”

Jack shot Nico a glare over his shoulder. “You hush,” he demanded, turning back to you with a frown. “Just one thing. One thing you really really like.”

And because you were annoyed and he was looking at you and he is something you really really like you said, “Nico.”

Almost shy, Nico smiled all pretty at you, dimples sinking into his cheeks. Jack paused, lips pursing and then he shrugged.

“Alright, cool.”

It was an odd conversation, one you didn’t bother asking for clarification on because you just wanted to lay down with Moose and wait for Nico to finish cleaning up after dinner so he could take you to bed.

The conversation doesn’t come back to you for a bit. Not when Timo warns you that the boys are throwing you a surprise party at his place. Not when you promise to act surprised. Not when you approach the baby blue colored balloons stuck to his front door, smiling giddily as Timo unlocks the door.

“Surprise!” They all shout as you step inside and come face to face with the craziest decorations you’ve ever seen.

Alex is the first to greet you, carrying your signature birthday tiara and sash in hand. “For the birthday girl,” he smiles, and you help him lay the crown on your head, pulling the sash across your body and you read the glittery letters

NICO’S GIRL

Well that’s a new one, you think. It’s true so you don’t think too much about it. Until Jack and Luke are coming over to hug you, squeezing you tightly and asking, “do you like it?”

You look around. There’s a huge happy birthday banner hanging over the living room windows, the letters each containing a different photo of Nico. Some of you and him, some of just him, some of him and Timo. Even a photoshopped one it looks like of him on the set of Star Wars?

“It’s so weird,” you laugh, taking in the life size cutout of him propped up in the kitchen. You know immediately what photo it was taken from, one you took of him and Haula in the backyard at the house. It was during a game of beer pong, Nico’s hat on backward and sunglasses on, holding his hand up in the hang loose symbol and even if you can’t see his eyes, you know he was drunk.

“I love it though!” You swear because while it is weird, it’s also really funny. Especially when they step back and you realize they’re both wearing big blue pins with the words I ❤️ NICO written on them.

“Is this a competition or what?” You ask, flicking at Luke’s pin and he swats your hand away.

“No but it’s hard coming up with Nico themed decorations.”

You laugh. “You could’ve picked another theme.”

“But this is what you wanted,” Jack says, giving you a confused look. “We asked what you liked and you said Nico.”

That’s when it all hits you. They were trying to be inconspicuous, to not reveal that they were digging for details for a surprise party. And you gave them the theme of Nico.

“It’s perfect,” you assure them, giving them another hug. “Really, I love it so much.”

They let you go then, making your way to Dawson and Johnny who are also wearing the Nico buttons and party hats with the Swiss flag on them.

As you make your way to the man whose face is plastered everywhere, you realize everyone is in fact wearing a button or holding a mini Swiss flag with Nico’s face on it.

By the time you get to Nico who’s leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest, you’re almost dying from holding back laughter.

“Mhm, laugh it up,” he says, eyes narrowed in annoyance but you can tell from his tone he’s amused too.

“Oh it’s the best birthday ever!” You sigh dreamily, wrapping your arms around his waist and giving him a kiss. He holds your hip, smiling against your lips.

“You like it?”

“I love it,” you swear and he raises an eyebrow.

“Timo told you didn’t he?”

You run your hands down his chest, biting your lip when you see the pin he’s wearing, a simple red heart with his name across it.

“Oh yeah,” you confirm, “but I promise I was still surprised.”

Nico laughs, looking around the room at his own face with a slight wrinkle to his nose. “Yeah next time they’re being cryptic at dinner, we have to make them clarify.”

You nod in agreement, looking around at the other items on the counter top. There’s personalized disposable cups, Nico’s face on them. A stack of paper plates all plastered with a collage of photos of you and Nico. Cans of soda and bottles of water, syrup flavoring for the drinks, all of it covered in a label of Nico’s face.

“I cannot believe they did this,” you giggle, pressing your chin into his chest. “Do I get to keep the cardboard cutout?”

He makes an offended face. “Why would you need that? I live with you?”

You bat your eyelashes at him. “Because you’re so handsome, obviously.”

Nico rolls his eyes, pinching at your side to make you squirm but his cheeks are tinging pink, dimples sinking into them.

“Wait ‘til you see the food,” he mutters and you gasp in excitement, looking around for the platters. The kitchen is strictly for the soda bar though so you let Nico guide you into the living room where a table has been set up with a catered bowl of pasta, chicken Alfredo to be exact, your favorite.

Except the label stuck to the bowl reads chicken Nico. And the bowl of Caesar salad next to it reads Nico salad. Every time of food has been labeled with some form of his name. And when you get to the cake, you can’t help but double over in laughter.

It’s a basic large sheet cake, blue frosting piped in a neat edging but the edible printed on it is what gets you. It’s a shirtless photo of him lying in the chairs by the pool at the house, skin damp from swimming and wet swim trunks stuck to his thighs. It was a photo you took after teasing Nico for looking so good, and then you’d posted it at the end of a photo dump, tagging the strip of pale skin on the inside of his thigh.

Written out in cursive are the words Happy Birthday to Nico’s Best Girl! Surrounding it are red cupcakes with mini Swiss flags sticking out of them. Giggling, you take out your phone to snap a photo of the cake.

“You couldn’t just be normal,” he murmurs with mirth, “say you liked dogs or something? Moose even, he’d have been a perfect theme.”

“I love Moose,” you say, “but everyone knows you’re my number 1 guy Schao.”

He sighs through his nose, shaking his head in amusement and you press a kiss to his cheek. You’re gunning for his mouth next when Jack interrupts you.

“Come take a photo in the Nico Photo Booth!”

The night gets even better when Alex gifts you a t-shirt with the words I ❤️ Swiss Boys plastered across the chest, Nico’s face taking up the heart.

Eagerly, you yank it over your head, not caring that it’s a little tight with the shirt you already had on. Nico, laughing to himself makes you take a photo, smiling wide and pointing at the words, surrounded by gift bags.

Timo leans over, nudging Nico with his elbow and goes, “yeah she does.” Which apparently isn’t the right thing to say because Nico glares at his friend, shoving his phone back in his pocket.

“Just for that,” he says, “you don’t get any Nico cake.”

“What no! That’s not fair!” Timo gapes, “I already claimed the piece with your bicep on it!”

OMG NOW WE NEED THAT FINGERING BLURB

It’s all Nico’s fault really.

You were never like this. Never the girl that made decisions based on the boy she’s with. Never so down bad and desperate that you felt absolutely out of your mind.

Maybe it’s not Nico and more so the fact that you clearly weren’t having sex with the right people before. Then again, that’s Nico’s doing too. He’s the one the wound you up, pressed and prodded at all these vulnerable spots you had no idea existed until you were laid out on his bed.

You hadn’t been like this before because you had no idea what you were missing.

And right now, you’re missing him.

“Where are you going?” Jack shouts over the bar noises, a ready bottle of fireball in hand. He motions to the empty shot glass you just placed down and you shake your head.

“Nico,” you slur, motioning to where you know he’s sat the booth. He’s not a shot person, but when Jack and Haula had egged you and Timo to come down to the bar a couple, you left with the promise of returning with a beer for him.

A beer that is growing warmer the longer you stay here taking shots with these guys. So you need to get it to him. And you also need to cool that burning feeling in your stomach, the one that seems to be whining for him.

Not that you say that to them.

“Noooo,” Haula complains, making Jack pour him another shot. “One more, come on.”

He said that three shots ago and yet here you are. You’ve got a one track mind though and it only involves getting Nico’s hands on you.

“To Timo,” you tell him, smiling innocently at your best friend. “He’ll drink it for me.”

Before any of them can argue you’re darting away, pushing through the overly full Saturday night crowd. Nico’s drink in hand, you stumble a bit as you hastily make your way back, but as soon as you can make out the figure of your boyfriend perched in his usual spot, it’s like everything clears.

Like a shining ray of light comes down from heaven to guide you to him.

It’s obvious from the lazy grin on his face that he knows just how much you drank down at the bar, dark eyes twinkling with amusement as you wobble on Bambi legs to him.

“Nico,” you greet, your tone flirty as you slip into the booth with him, placing his beer on the sticky table top. Tucking into his side, you slip your fingers under the hem of his black shirt, press into the warm skin of his abdomen.

Blatant you know that but what’s a girl gotta do around here to get her hot boyfriend naked?

Nico’s eyebrow lifts with interest, that grin growing cocky as he takes you in. “Baby,” he tells you, voice a low purr and the heat in your belly pulses.

All you can think about is him. The scratch of his beard when he kisses down your neck, the warmth of his hands when he grabs at you, squeezing your hips or holding your wrists. The strength of his body, of his hips on top of you.

“Want you,” you whisper, tilting your head up to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. He looks so good with that stupid smirk and those dark eyes, looking down at you like he’s got a feast laid out before him.

“Yeah?” He murmurs, eyes looking you and up down with mirth. You paw at his neck, lean in to kiss him again and he just lets you, not exactly reciprocating but not denying either.

“You look so good,” you tell him, and he lets out a flattered chuckle, finally dropping his arm around you so he can press his fingers into your back, drawing you in closer.

“So do you,” he whispers, eyelashes fluttering as his gaze drops down to where your skirt is riding up your thighs. “Running around all night in that lame excuse for a skirt. Knew I couldn’t resist those pretty legs huh?”

It’s funny because you faintly remember him watching you get ready, shaking his head at the pair of tight jeans you almost wore. Some excuse about how he thinks you should wear something that’ll go with your favorite knee high boots.

And yet you nod your head, pouting your lips out and hoping to good he’ll kiss you for real. He does, but only momentarily. Placatingly pressing his lips to yours in a lazy peck.

“Over here baby,” he says, and you’re helpless to denying him anything as he motions for you to slip into his lap, crowding your back into the wall. You’re kissing him then, one hand on his chest and the other threading through his hair. Messy and desperate and probably a little pathetic too.

“Shhh baby,” he tells you, parting just enough to whisper and it’s then you realize you’re making soft and needy little noises.

“Nico please,” you whine, letting a leg slip off his lap and to the bar floor, parting your thighs for him and making your skirt ride up even higher.

“Not yet,” he says, “can have me when we get home-“

“Let’s go now,” you interrupt, drunken mind forgetting that for Jack’s birthday tonight, you all promised to stay out as long as he did. No matter how drunk, his tired, how horny any of you may be.

“Can’t,” he presses a warm kiss to your cheek, then below your ear. “You know that. Be patient for me, ok?”

You whine about it, make him laugh under his breath but then he’s kissing you again, the arm cradled between you and the wall wrapping around the back of your neck. The other splays out over your thigh, fingertips digging into the flesh as he licks into your mouth, kisses you stupid.

“Fuck you gotta stop making those noises,” he mutters, sounding almost pained and you blink open your eyes to find him watching you pant for air, lips swollen and red. You hadn’t even realized you were making them again, too caught up in him.

“Nico I need you,” you plead, skin tingling when his hold on you tightens. You can already hear the excuses he’s thinking of, the way he’s going to shut down because you’re in a crowded bar.

But it’s his bar.

“Come on boss,” you encourage, “can do anything you want right? So do it to me, please?”

Just to be safe you bat your eyelashes at him, pouting your lips out again and he lets out a frustrated sigh, head lulling back for a moment. You latch onto his neck, kiss at the soft skin as he looks around for anyone paying attention, anyone that may be looking at you two a little too closely.

Because he’s already caved. He caved the moment he pressed his mouth to yours and you made those pretty little noises he only ever gets to hear you make in private.

A large palm shifts to the inside of your thigh, trailing up and up until Nico’s fingertips are teasing at your wet underwear. He inhales sharply, jaw ticking when he pulls you away from his neck to look at him.

“You’re gonna be good,” he demands, “take what I give you and do it nicely, yeah?”

“Yes Nico please.”

Squeezing down on your neck, he holds you still as his thumb pulls your underwear to the side, quick and efficient as he slips his middle finger into you. You arch into him, eyelids fluttering but he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“Eyes open baby, don’t want everyone to know do you?”

It’s a question, at least you think it is but there’s no answer falling off your tongue. Not when he draws his finger out, adding his ring finger to the mix when he fucks them back into you. The stretch is just enough, his beautifully thick fingers reaching just where you were aching for him.

“Don’t want them to know how desperate you are for it huh?” Nico goads, his accent thickening and it makes your thighs tremble. He always sounds so good when his tongue gets lazy, when he’s too caught up in taking you apart to focus on his accent.

“For you,” you gasp, grabbing at his forearm, digging your nails into the muscles that flex with every pump of his fingers. “Desperate for you.”

It doesn’t take him long, never does really but especially not now when you’re this wound up and drunk. His thumb presses into your clit, rubbing tight circles and you have no idea how he’s keeping the rhythm of his fingers at the same time but you don’t care.

All you care about is the coil tightening in your belly, the orgasm that’s growing closer and closer and feels so good coming from him.

“Look at you,” he breathes, almost in awe and you blink, realize you’d closed your eyes. His eyes are so dark, pupils blown wide and gleaming with lust as he watches you fall apart in front of all these people, sat on his lap with his fingers buried in you.

“You’ll spread your thighs for me anywhere won’t you? Just as long as I make you feel good. Doesn’t matter who knows, huh?”

You whimper, shifting your hips down into his fingers and he laughs, low and husky and sweet like honey.

“Go ahead baby,” he coos, “come. What was it you said? I’m the boss and can do what I want?”

His lips peck yours, short and biting and then he’s leaning into your ear, his next words a demanding growl.

“I want you to come for me.”

Stars burst behind your closed eyes, the moan slipping at you gets swallowed by Nico as he silences you with a kiss. You cling to him, dig your nails into him knowing that there will probably be marks left behind, that it probably stings right now but he doesn’t stop you.

No, he works you through it, slowing his fingers into a lazy curl and his thumb just ghosts over your throbbing clit.

You want him to stay there, holding your neck in his strong hands, kissing you and just ever so slightly pressing his fingers into your walls. But someone will be coming back soon, someone will wonder over looking for you two.

Jack, no matter how drunk, will eventually realize that he hasn’t had a drink with Nico yet and come demanding.

Nico pulls back, eyes locked on yours as he slips his fingers out of you, lets your underwear fall back into place, cold and tacky on your sensitive core. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead when you wince, shushing you ever so slightly and you take a deep breath, relaxing back into his arm and the wall surrounding the booth.

You feel good, light and almost boneless. Like you’re made of clouds, made happy and satiated by him. Still catching your breath, you watch him glance around the bar again before he brings his fingers up to his mouth, the slickness of them barely getting a chance to catch the low light before they’re disappearing between his lips.

“Oh fuck me,” you mutter, pussy clenching around nothing and despite how good you feel, you think you could beg him to do it again right now, to please put that hand back where it was.

Instead you lick at your own dry lips, inhaling shakily when he drops his hand back to his jeans and wipes his fingers off. Then he’s smiling at you, those pretty pink lips curling into a cocky grin.

“Later,” he says, reaching for the leg you’d dropped off his lap earlier, hauling it back up over his thighs as he shifts under you, the front of his jeans pressing into the back of your thigh. He sucks in a breath, swallowing heavily and you almost laugh.

“Promise?”

Nico shoots you a look, smoothing your hair down with his hand. He cups your face then, gaze growing loving and full of awe as he looks over your features, the well-fucked gloss over your eyes and the flush to your face.

“You always look so pretty when you come,” he whispers, almost like he was speaking to himself and it makes you blush, grinning bashfully.

“Can I have a kiss?” You ask, and he laughs, leaning in to give a tender kiss, short but lingering when he pulls back.

“Let’s go get you some water, my sweet girl.”

can we get an italian gossip sesh blurb for reader and johnny and a whiny nico who feels left out🫣🤗

“Cara!”

Johnny comes crashing into the rooftop table, almost tipping over the tall chair as he launches himself into it.

Nico swipes your drink up from the table as it wobbles, saving the seltzer can from tipping over and spilling, and saving him from making another trip to the bar.

Johnny pays no mind to the glare Nico gives him, wide eyes locked on you and a shit eating grin on his face.

“You’re not gonna believe this.” Johnny laughs giddily, shoving his phone at you and Nico leans into you, looking over your shoulder for a peak at the screen.

It’s an Instagram account, some girl here in Jersey that looks vaguely familiar. The post is a whole group of girls at the shore though, all of them in matching spring break shirts that look homemade.

“No fucking way!” You gasp, equally as delighted as Johnny. Nico wants to ask for context, wants to know what’s got you so excited about that post but you’re already leaning away from him and over the table, head pressed together with Johnny’s as you two swipe through the Instagram account.

It’s a lost cost, he realizes once you’ve switched to Italian. He grew up around the language a bit, interacted with people that spoke Swiss Italian but it’s different and once you and Johnny get going, he can’t keep up, can’t pick out words he might know.

Huffing to himself, he sets your drink back on the table, pushing himself up from his seat to go find Timo. Nico stops briefly to place a kiss to the side of your head, sweeping your hair over your shoulder so he can see your face better.

You pause, look up at him to give a quick smile but then Johnny is saying something and you’re ducking your head down again. Nico has nothing else to do but wonder away, crossing the roof top bar to where Timo is sitting with Nola and Jonas.

He laughs when he sees Nico coming, patting the cushion next to him. “Ya lost her?” He teases as Nico slumps down next to him, wrinkling his nose.

“Knew I should’ve thrown Marino out of my car the moment he got here.” Nico grumbles, kicking his feet up onto the patio table. Both Jonas and Nola seem to delight in his grumpiness, giggling as Timo just pats him on the thigh.

“You could’ve tried but she probably would’ve convinced you to turn around and pick him up again.”

Nico can’t really argue with that one. You love Johnny, have since that first night in Philly. Nico remembers the way you went hysterical thinking he was in trouble, that he’d been lost and you’d only known the guy for like five minutes then.

He thinks of how he had to pin you to his lap, how he held you down as you cried and wailed. He never thought a sound could hurt him so badly, but you had. Nico didn’t want them to sedate you, had told Fleury to back off and give you a minute but it was useless. It seemed more merciful to sedate you, honestly.

So yeah he would’ve turned back around for Johnny, anything to keep you from ever crying like that again.

“I think they’re cute,” Nola says, looking over to the table Nico left you at. It’s on the far end of the rooftop, away from the bar and everyone because he wanted you all to himself. He was on the verge of leaning into your ear, telling you to take a walk with him so he could get his hands on you just before Johnny interrupted.

“They’re something,” Nico mutters with no actual heat because when he looks over his shoulder, you’ve got that big beautiful smile on your face, the one that first pulled him in when he met you. Johnny is telling you god knows what, waving a hand rapidly by his face and you’re leaning in like it’s the best thing you’ve ever heard.

“Come on Nico,” Nola teases, switching to Swiss German. “You know she’s only got eyes for you.”

“Until Marino went over we were worried she was gonna take you out of your clothes right then and there.” Jonas adds and Nico blushes, thinking they have no idea just how right they are.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Timo mutters and Nico is suddenly very grateful only the four of them can understand this conversation right now.

“What?” Nola gasps, looking outright scandalized and entertained. “You dirty boy Nico! When?”

“Hey we never did it in public!” He defends, looking to Timo accusatory. His friend laughs, shaking his head in denial.

“Maybe not it but you too definitely did stuff.”

Which that one’s true but it’s not really Nico’s fault. Yeah he’s shy and private about his sex life, doesn’t really want to have anything out there for the boys to jump on but he can only do so much when you’re drunk and needy and wearing a short skirt.

Still, he denies. He’s got a reputation to uphold after all, and yours as well.

“Bullshit T,” he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Even if I didn’t see it with my own eyes,” Timo continues, “I’m her best friend. I get the morning debriefs. I’d know about it anyway.”

Jonas cackles, a full belly laugh that has his eyes scrunching closed and he’s still gasping a bit when he chokes out, “And we thought you were Mr. Traditional. Fucking in the bar Nico? Really?”

“We did not fuck in the bar!” He insists, which is technically true. “At least not when other people were there.”

The back rooms are a different story but hey, he owns the place. He can fuck in the back rooms as much as he’d like.

Timo takes a drink of his beer, all too casually shrugging before he says the most foul thing Nico’s ever heard from a friend. “Not fucking, but maybe next time you should make a point of keeping your hand above the table. And she should make a point of keeping her eyes open.”

Heat claws up his neck and eats, making the already warm summer air feel stifling. Truth be told, there’s a couple times Timo could be talking about here. Because after the first time, when you realized you two could at least get away with that, you’d drug him into it again.

A little heathen is what you are and now he’s getting the bad rap for it, getting the scarlet red letter stamped on his forehead all because he gets weak in the knees when you beg him.

Worth it, he reminds himself.

“Jesus Christ,” Nico mutters, “can’t a guy get a seat around here and not have to listen to gossip.”

Timo laughs again, smiling all too proud of himself and Nico wonders how long he’s being holding out for that one, for a chance to tease him. At least he has the decency to do it in Swiss German with the two friends Nico knows would never actually care.

All ribbing in good fun.

“Aww Nico it’s ok!” Nola coos, giving him a playful wink. “Timo is just jealous because he has no fingering stories for himself.”

Timo grows bright red, mouth parted in offense as they now laugh at him. He makes a wounded scoffing noise.

“Maybe I would if I didn’t have to watch over him all the time. Better that than having to bail him out for public indecency.”

Nico doesn’t consider himself to be prideful, but he is a little peacock-ish when he puffs his chest out and says, “you forget who’s in charge here in Jersey, T. I could do whatever I wanted with her wherever I wanted and no one would lift a finger.”

He could get the cops called on him, maybe even get taken in but nothing would stick. He’s made sure of that. No one needs to be called to get him out of jail, not like the boys do. If any of them get picked up, the sheriff is getting a hold of Nico before he can let them go. Even if they’re not taken in, any interaction with the cops is reported to him.

Nico is number 1 on that office’s speed dial.

“This conversation really got away from us,” Timo sighs, motioning to Nola. “Go back to talking about how cute the Italians are over there before Nico takes his pants off just to prove a point.”

Nola giggles again, all of them looking over to where you’re still talking to Johnny, far less animated now. Hopefully, the drama is dying out over there and before anything else can be sparked up here, Nico is pushing himself up from the couch.

“Thanks for nothing I guess, you fuckers.” He says, and then flips them off when they all jeer at him. By the time he gets back to the table you’re already reaching out for him, wrapping your arm around his waist and leaning into his chest.

He doesn’t even realize he’s pouting until your other hand comes up and cups his face, tracing your thumb over his bottom lip.

“Wanna hear the tea?” You ask him, and yeah he does if it’s got you that excited. Brushing your hair out of your face, he looks to Johnny with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t know, do I?”

Johnny nods enthusiastically, and Nico gives in, patting at your leg for you to get up. He steals your seat, reclining back in it and then parting his thighs for you. You slip into his lap easily, an arm around his shoulders and begin retelling him everything.

Johnny butts it at some points but for the most part he’s just watching you, gaze locked on your face because he really doesn’t understand or know these people except that the girl of the account was a girl Johnny hooked up with at the bar a few weeks ago. Not that Nico really cares.

What he does care about is that you’re looking at him now, talking to him with that pretty smile now, your tone growing louder and accent slipping in as you get excited. And it’s all directed at him.