#Old South Meeting House
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ouiouixmonami · 3 months ago
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A few stops along Boston's Freedom Trail. 🥹
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rabbitcruiser · 2 years ago
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The siege of Boston began on April 19, 1775 and was the opening phase of the American Revolutionary War.
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wankybuttnoepants · 1 year ago
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These are from weeks ago. Taylor Mac is awesome! #ifkyk
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littlestpersimmon · 8 months ago
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Heya guys. Sorry for posting this for the billionth time. But maybe if you guys would like to give my posts about patreon a boost it would mean the world to me. I know I post this a lot and I don't take any help I receive for granted. I've only been able to make two new drawings since February. Bc every day I have been working almost 9 hours. I'm sick nearly every other week, my lymph nodes are swollen n I've been feeling incredibly depressed. I am from the global south, in the philippines, government help is near nonexistent. I am the sole caretaker of three disabled people. My mom can not do any housework, she is a full time wheelchair user, she needs care 24/7, insulin, adult diapers and kidneys that are under threat of failing if we don't watch her health, my dad has a chronic heart condition and my sister is autistic with a very low frustration threshold. Both my parents are diabetic, and I am the only person in my family who can work. I currently have three jobs, one in publishing, but I have a morality clause which means the publishing house can take back every single penny I make if I or the author fail to meet certain expectations. Anyway.. I have been working nonstop, my scoliosis is untreated and extremely painful, n for the past few four days I have been rationing a single can of spam and a few potatoes. Would mean the world to me if you guys could pick up a print, or subscribe to my patreon, or reblog any of my old art or send me a tip on ko-fi or anywhere else. Sorry and thank you again. I remake these a lot, but I sincerely don't take any of the help I receive for granted. Thank you again.
My inprnt
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https://www.patreon.com/littlestpersimmon
My tipping jars
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eddiesxangel · 11 months ago
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Show Me | Older!Eddie x F!Virgin Reader
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Anonymous asked: I loved your post about Eddie x virgin!reader so much💞Do you think you could write older!Eddie x virgin reader?
Anonymous asked: Inexperienced!reader giving Eddie a handjob and a blowjob for the first time?
Cw: ten-year age gap, sex toys, female masturbation, the reader is kinda a perv (oops), Eddie is also kinda a perv (oops), reader first time giving oral, reader first time having sex, pet names.
CW: 7.1k It's long again, I'm sorry! idk how to do short
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Moving trucks have been parked in your neighbour's driveway for about two days. You had always liked the Kaminskys, but they were older and now moving to a retirement community. This is the second day of moving trucks, and the new owners are moving in today. You have yet to receive much information from the realtor regarding the new neighbours, but you hope they'll be pleasant. You had already baked something to welcome them to the neighbourhood, in hopes that it could be a younger family or couple. Perhaps someone closer to your age?
You moved to this town around three years back when you received your first job offer after completing your college degree. You had saved up enough money to buy a one-bedroom house for a very affordable price. Although it required some repairs, you were happy with it because it allowed you to decorate it according to your liking. You loved the neighbourhood even if you were the only twenty-five-year-old on the block.
As you looked out from behind your front rooms curtains, you could see the movers unloading a big moving truck. There was one person among them who really caught your attention. You had never seen him before. It was a small town and you lived in a quiet suburb by the water in the south of Michigan. Everyone knew everyone, and you hadn’t seen this man before.
He appeared to be in his mind to late 30s and had a muscular build. His brown wavy hair was tied back in a low bun that connected with the five o clock shadow in his face. He was wearing a tight black ribbed tank top that showcased the tattoos covering both his arms and hands. He was hot... Way too hot not to have not ever been seen or talked about in your small lakefront town. Upon further observation, it became apparent that he was not wearing the attire of a mover.
Oh my god. He must be the new neighbour.
“Please be single, please be single, please be single,” you chanted as you hastily went to your closet in search of an outfit that looked cute so that you could introduce yourself.
You took your time getting ready; he obviously needed time to unload, and you didn’t want to overwhelm him…. And whoever else might be moving in.
God, you hoped he didn’t have a wife or whatever.
You shook your head to get rid of your rambling internal thoughts. You took a deep breath and told yourself to chill the fuck out. You could do this. You’ll go over in your sweet little sundress, introduce yourself, and offer him the chocolate cake you baked…
You weren't as excited as you were last night while baking it, now you were just nervous. You imagined a sweet family moving in with a newborn - a couple your age with whom you could become really close friends. But now, you are faced with a hot and sexy bad boy neighbour who may or may not have a wife and kids. Maybe he wasn’t into women at all?! That would suck. This situation is making you feel extremely anxious and overwhelmed due to your lack of interactions with the opposite sex.
To say you haven’t had a lot of experience was an understatement. You went through high school without a boyfriend. You went through college without a boyfriend. You weren’t into drunken hookups with random strangers for your first sexual experience. You went on many first dates, but nothing ever came of those many first dates. So you waited. And waited.
You thought that maybe you would meet somebody through work and then it would happen, but you’ve been so caught up with working and renovating your house your social life has taken a step back.
Of course, you wanted to find someone. To finally be with someone in a sexual way. To give yourself wholly to someone. Nothing ever went past kissing and or being felt up. But that was the extent of your sexual experience with another person.
Your sexual experience with yourself, on the other hand, was pretty standard. You've got your toys to get by. The first time you gave yourself a real orgasm from the vibrator you bought, it changed your world. Slowly, you worked your way up to toys you could insert once you got a little braver. So technically, yes, you hadn't slept with another person, but now you were more than ready to explore and get out there. You wanted that connection with someone.
So, about half an hour after the moving truck left, you worked up the courage to walk over and knock on the front door. You gave yourself a once-over before leaving. You wore a white sundress with tiny red cherries that fell mid-thigh, your hair was pulled back with a matching red hairband, and you had a fresh, subtle makeup look.
With a deep breath, you held that cake with all your might to ensure you didn't drop it and you simply knocked on the door.
"Just a second," You heard a deep voice call out. A few long seconds later, the door opens, and you're face to face with a wet, shirtless man in just a towel. As you suspected, it was the man you saw unloading the boxes.Fucking hell, He was attractive, with a toned body covered in tattoos. Your gaze drifted to his towel hanging low on his hips. -"Oh shit, sorry, let me just uh- I'll be right back," He sputtered as he realized he was basically naked in front of a young woman, most likely his neighbour.
"Sorry, I can come back later!" to try to fight off the blood rushing to your face.
"No- no, just, uh-hang on!' You hear him yell from inside the house. He came back out wearing black sweatpants which he had cut himself to make into shorts and a plain black tee shirt.
"Hi." He smiles as he walks back onto the front porch where you stood.
"Hi, I'm sorry. I should have waited a little longer to come introduce myself." You laugh uncomfortably.
"Nah, it's okay; not every day I'm greeted by a pretty girl with a cake." He smirks.
"What? Oh yea, I uh- just wanted to welcome you and uh your...wife?"
He shakes his head no.
"Your partner?"
Another no.
"Kid?" you try one last time. And he smiles with a chuckle.
"Anyway, I baked a cake just to say welcome." You shoved the plate into his chest, almost smushing it into his shirt.
"Thank you, that's very kind."
"You're welcome. So, um, I guess I'll get going; leave you to it." You turn to walk down the steps.
"Wait! What's your name?" you wince. You're so nervous you didn't even introduce yourself.
"I'm sorry." You giggled uncomfortably.
"I'm Eddie Munson," he smiled. His smile was infectious; you smiled back and gave him your name.
"Pretty name for a pretty girl."
"Um- thanks." You shy into yourself.
"So you said you live next door?"
"Yeah, uh, I'm just over at forty-four." You motion over your shoulder to your house.
"You live there with your folks?" He cocks his head.
"No, Mr. Munson. It's all mine, mine alone." You giggle.
"You don't look old enough," he squints suspiciously.
"I would like to have you know I am twenty-five." You say proudly.
"Oh well, pardon me." He smiled. This made Eddie feel much better about being so attracted to you. God forbid you were still living at home with your parents. He would feel like a total creep.
"Anyways, I uh should get going," you point over your shoulder.
"Oh, ok, well, um, once I'm done setting up, please stop by whenever. I could use a familiar face around... being new to town and all."
"Sure thing, it was nice meeting you. Mr. Munson." you smile.
"Please call me Eddie!" He called as you walked back over to your house,
"Enjoy the cake!" You give a small wave.
"Oh, I will." Before you turn back, you watch as he takes a finger, dips it in the icing, and puts it in his mouth without breaking eye contact... you hadn't witnessed anything so sensual. You almost trip over your sandals as you scurry back into your house.
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All of your interactions with Eddie over the next week were flirtatious. He managed to make your heart beat faster than any man had before.
After a week and a half, Eddie finally organized the house. His furniture was set up, and most of the moving boxes had been emptied. He would see you when you came home from work in the evenings as he sat on his porch with a cigarette.
"Hey, Eddie," You would blush,
"Hey, sweetheart" He would smile back without fail.
If anyone else were to call you that, you'd want to clock them; however, coming out of Eddie's mouth? Somehow, it made you swoon.
"Hey, um, you don't have to, but would you want to join me for dinner? Tonight? I am sure you're exhausted from unpacking, and I'm a pretty good cook... unless you hated my cake so feel free to say no.-" You rambled on.
"I'd love to join you for dinner. That's very sweet of you to offer." This was so new for Eddie. Neighbours being neighbourly. He was always the outcast in his town growing up. Now, at thirty-five, he is finally saved up enough to get out of town, start fresh, and open his own autobody shop. Have an actual house of his own, not that he wasn't grateful for his uncle and the trailer park.
Here, he could be anyone he wanted to be. He met some of the townspeople, and they seemed nice enough when he told them he would be taking over for Mr. Sanders's mechanic shop.
"Okay, great! I'm just going to get changed, I'll leave the door open; feel free to come in and make yourself at home whenever you're ready." You motioned to him and his cigarette."
"Thanks, Sunshine." He smiled that smile you couldn't overcome, and you rushed inside to find a n outfit that didn’t scream ‘I work for corporate America.’
You made your way up to your loft, which doubled as your bedroom that overlooked the living area and kitchen. You were in the middle of stripping when you heard the front door open; only then did you realize that when you told him to make himself at home, you had forgotten the minor detail that he would be able to see you changing. You scurried into your walk-in closet with a squeak so he wouldn't have dinner and a show.
"Sunshine?" He asked, walking into your home.
"I'll be down in a minute!" You yell as you scramble to find your jean shorts.
"Take your time." He walks around your home, observing your picture gallery.
"Help yourself to a beer or whatever you want in the fridge."
"Thanks."
As you walk back down your stairs, you see Eddie sitting on your couch, beer in hand. Man-spread with an arm around the top of the sofa. You wished you could be by his side, arm around you instead.
"Good, you made yourself at home."
"Well, Sweets, I am a good listener." He tilted his head back, taking a swig from the bottle. You watched his Adam's apple bob in his long throat, and you thought about what it would feel like to kiss it.
"Any dietary restrictions?" You ask, shaking yourself from your dirty thoughts.
"Nah..." He shakes his head. "So, how did you swing a place like this at your age?"
It felt like a dig; maybe he just saw you as a kid... you would change his mind on that.
"Um, well, I got it on foreclosure; you should have seen it; it was a mess, and everyone wanted to tear it down, but I had a vision. It took a few years, but it's finally finished. I had some help from my grandmother's inheritance, but it wasn't much. So I worked my ass off, and here we are" you spoke as you got together the pots and ingredients.
"Looks like you're doing well for yourself" He smiled as he watched you bend over, unintentionally showing off your cute plump ass.
"Yeah, I guess. So what do you do?" you turn and catch him staring at your behind.
"Well, I just bought the auto shop off Mr. Sander's, so if you're ever in any car trouble, I'm your guy." He smiles.
"Good to know; I know nothing when it comes to my Ruby."
"Ruby?"
"Yeah, my car, she's red, so I named her Ruby."
"That's cute; it suits you."
You don't say much after you start cooking; you are in the zone, ensuring everything is perfect.
"So, what's a girl like you do around here for fun?"
"A girl like me?"
"Yeah, young, beautiful." He takes a bite like what he said was obvious.
"Umm well... work mostly. We have block parties, it is all families around here; my friends all live in the city." You take a sip of beer to settle your nerves.
"This is really good." He motions to the plate of food in front of him.
"You know what? We are having our town's Fourth of July party on Saturday. Everyone goes, you should come! I can show you around more, introduce you to more people, and you can spread the word about your new business opening up next week."
"Yeah, I'd really like that."
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After Eddie had thanked you for the meal, he stayed a few more hours; you enjoyed his company. He respectfully kissed you on the cheek goodnight, and you made your way straight up to your room with your toys because you couldn't stand it any longer.
Eddie made you feel like your body was on fire. When he would lightly graze his fingertips along your bare arm or when he would compliment you. His voice alone made your lower tummy tingle.
You pulled out your trusty rabbit that never failed you. You felt dirty, but Eddie had you so worked up you needed relief.
As you lay on your bed, you strip yourself down to nothing. You think about how Eddie’s big, strong hands would tease your body. Working yourself up in your mind. You got wetter by the second.
You imagined how his voice would sound as you imagined the filthy words that would come out of that perfectly plump mouth. That mouth you wanted all over your body.
You imagined, pictured, and played a movie of Eddie and you in your head until you got so worked up that you couldn’t take it anymore. Your clit was screaming at you to be touched. You turned on the toy, it came to life, and your body quivered with anticipation. Your body sprang to life as you slowly worked the toy around your wet hole and then plunged in the dildo. You went deeper and deeper until the little vibrator at the top of the toy hit your clit.
Your body arched up as you felt the waves of pleasure wash through your veins. You pumped the toy in and out of your wet pussy, thinking about your older neighbour. How hot he looked in nothing but that towel when you first met. How your pussy clenched at the sight of his happy trail. How his muscles formed a V travelling right to where you wanted most. You could see his bulge under the white fluffy bath towel wrapped around his waist. You thought about how good his flesh would feel against yours as he pumped his cock inside of you like how you were with your toy.
“Oh, Eddie!” You moaned, forgetting your window was open for the summer breeze you loved to feel in the night.
Your free hand travels to your breast; you tweak your sensitive nipple and moan out again. Your white transparent curtains fluttered with the wind, but you were too wrapped up in your fantasy to notice.
When Eddie got home he went straight into his new bedroom and opened his window because the evening breeze was blowing. He then got ready for bed and was reading when he heard his name. His head shot up, thinking he was hearing things. Then, he listened to another sultry moan. He took off his reading glasses and got up to investigate. His eyes shot wide open as he saw your silhouette through your curtains. He saw your the outline of your body, how your hand worked where he wanted to put his cock the most.
It was wrong, it was so wrong, but now Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off of the image in front of him. He tried walking away, and he almost did, but when he heard your sweet voice moan his name again, his feet were planted on the ground. This only confirmed that you were as attracted to him as he was to you. He had thought so tonight at dinner but now he would dare to go for it. Ask you out for real.
Your body felt like it was on fire the way the toy vibrated throughout your body. The pressure kept building and building until you were on the brink. Your body seized as your pussy clamped down on the dildo inside of you. Your eyes rolled back into your head as the waves of pleasure washed over your entirety. You caught your breath and knew that Eddie was the one you wanted to be with. He was the one; if he could make you feel this good in your fantasies, you can only imagine how it would be for real.
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Eddie was nervous, even though you had confirmed, unintentionally, that you were attracted to him; it had been a while since he asked out about a girl he liked, especially when he was about to ask out one who was ten years younger.
Saturday couldn't come soon enough. You had asked Eddie as a friend, but Eddie would treat it as a date, and he would make sure you knew it was a date. You were excited to spend time with Eddie again after your dinner. It had only been four days, but the anticipation was creeping in. You were so surprised when he showed up at your door with flowers.
"Eddie, you didn't have to do this, but thank you!" you smiled as you sniffed the daisies.
"Of course I did; what kind of date would I be if I showed up empty-handed?" He smirked as he stepped into your house as you went to get a vase for your flowers.
“A date, huh?” You smirked over your shoulder.
“Yes. A date”
“Okay,” you smile as you take his hand in yours and lock up your house.
Eddie was smitten; he had you on his arm, and he felt like the king of the world. You were also smitten. Finally, you were on a date with someone who you were very interested in.
Eddie was funny and charming, and you found out he was really nerdy, but it was only much more endearing. You learned how he played guitar and was in a high school garage band that landed a few gigs at the local bar. The more you got to know him, the more you wanted to be with him.
Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off you as the night went on, and you enjoyed it. When he wasn't holding your hand, he was holding your waist; if he wasn't holding your waist, his arm was draped over your shoulder.
When the fireworks started, you gazed up at the sky together, wrapped up in one another warmth as the cool breeze of the lake came through. Halfway through the show, he went to kiss the top of your head but you had moved to look up at him, and you caught his lips with yours. Just like the fireworks in the sky, there were fireworks between the both of you. When you both pulled back, you could see in his eyes that he felt it, too.
You finished off the night hand in hand as he walked you home. He kissed you good night like a perfect gentleman, and you bid one another a goodnight.
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You were so giddy and excited about Eddie. The more you went out, the more time you wanted to spend with him. You were finishing your third official date when you asked him to join you inside your place for a nightcap.
Things moved quickly once you settled inside. Your drinks were hardly touched. Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off you.m as you made out like a couple of horny teenagers in the couch.
Your mind was racing. Why hadn’t you told him you’re a virgin? You invited him in. He’s probably expecting sex… oh god, what if he’s turned off by the fact that you’re not experienced?
“We can slow down if you want.” he pulled away; he had sensed something was off. You became stiff and seemed like you weren't into the makeout anymore.
“I’m sorry. I’m just a bit nervous… I’m -uh just out of practice…” you shied.
“That’s okay we can take it slow.” He stroked your cheek.
“Are you sure?” You twiddled with his fingers that are resting on your thigh.
“Of course. We can go at your speed.”
“I need to tell you something.” You looked down at the floor. He nodded his head but then spoke because you weren’t looking at him.
“I’ve never… I uh. Shit. I’ve never been with anyone before.”
“What?” Eddie was dumbfounded. How? There was no way he heard you correctly.
“I’m a virgin.” You pull away, but Eddie reaches for you.
“oh wow. I wasn't expecting that... uh- but that’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” he comforts you.
“But I do want to,” you rush out. “It’s not like I’m waiting for marriage; it just hasn’t happened…”
“We will go at your pace” Eddie smiled.
“Thank you”
You shift closer to him, wanting to kiss him again, especially after being so cool with everything.
You leaned in to kiss him again, but he was hesitant.
“You sure, sunshine?”
“Yea” you sigh into his mouth.
Eddie grabs the back of your head so he can pull you in closer.
Your hand rested on his knee. As you continued to kiss him your hand bravely traveled up his thigh.
“Woah, hold on, sunshine.” He rested his hand on yours to stop moving.
Oh my gosh, this is it. He had come to his senses. He’s rejecting you.
"You sure you want to go there? Because if we keep going, I will want to do things to you, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable if you're not ready."
"I promise. I've waited so long for the right guy, and I'm ready, trust me." If he only knew about your little collection of toys upstairs.
"We don't have to go all the way tonight okay?"
"Yeah, okay." You nodded your head with anticipation. Okay, this was good. He accepted you, and he still wanted to fool around.
You returned to making out on your couch, and the heavy petting ensued. This time, Eddie didn't stop your advances as your hand travelled up his thigh to the crease of his leg and up his crotch. Your hand felt around his bulge through his jeans. There was no denying that he was turned on. The way his cock strained against the thick black fabric should have been illegal. It must have been uncomfortable for him. You just had to let it spring free.
You shifted your weight forward to get closer to him. To feel him. His thighs were thick and defined. You could also feel how hard they were. Your mind wandered to how they would feel to sit on.
Before you knew it, your body was moving before your brain could catch up. One leg draped over his, and you were mounted on Eddie's leg. His deliciously thick leg. You just did what felt right; as you sat down on Eddie, the pressure situated onto your pussy felt so delicious. Your hips started rocking back and forth, building up a rhythm.
You heard and felt Eddie moan in your mouth, and this only enticed you on to keep going, your body driven by pleasure.
"That feel good, baby?" He cooed in your ear before he started kissing down your neck.
"Mmmmhmmm." You nodded frantically, eyes shut, not daring to look at him.
"Good girl, keep going." You felt his big hands grip the top of your ass as he helped you rock your hips against his jeans. The pressure in your lower stomach was building and building; you could feel your orgasm as close.
“Fuck that’s it, use me”
Fuck, you haven't gotten off by dry-humping something in years. Not since you found your first vibrator.
"You close, baby girl?" He whispered against your lips as you kept kissing him. A muffled yes was said, and before you could continue to speak, waves of pleasure washed over your whole body. It stared from your clit and radiated up like it travelled through your bloodstream straight to your head.
Your movements slowed, and you managed to catch your breath; Eddie was still hard as a rock under his jeans, and there was no way you weren't going to help out with that.
You mimicked the way Eddie kissed your neck on Eddie. Your tongue moved the way he moved on your neck. Your hands worked in tandem with your mouth. Your fingers worked to open his jeans as you kept kissing on sucking on Eddie's long tattooed neck.
"You don't have to, Sugar," he panted, but you could hear in his tone that he was excited. He wanted this as much as you did... maybe even more.
"But I want to, Eddie." You batted your eyelashes, and you pulled away to let him see your playful pout.
You've watched enough porn and heard enough of your friend's stories to know what you're doing. Sure, the first and only time you saw a dick in real life was in your third year at uni when you tried to go down on the guy you were out with but then got scared, and he walked you home... but you got this! You're an adult woman who knows what she wants, and what she wants is right at her fingertips.
Your little pep talk in your head must have been evident on your face because Eddie started speaking again.
"You done this before?" He asks gently, not judgingly. You shake your head slightly in return.
"You want me to guide you?"
You nodded your head yes. You wanted to be good and do it right.
"Kay," He smiled.
Eddie told you how to work your hands slowly, teasingly at first, not too much but not too little. And no sudden sharp yanking movements at first... You listened, and when you were ready, you moved his boxers down, and his cock was released. It was so big, so much bigger than you thought it would be. The one you saw was a least half the size of Eddie's.
"Oh my god," You gasped.
"It's okay, sugar; he won't bite." Eddie kissed you to make you feel more comfortable. Your hand travelled back to his cock so you could grip it in your hand, not too hard, but not too gently like Eddie had said. The tip produced a bead of precum that was already leaking out, which was a good sign. Your fingers brushed over the head, and Eddie sucked in a breath.
"Did I hurt you?" you dropped his cock from your release.
"No, quite the opposite, baby."
"Oh," you giggled. You picked up where you left off, stroking his cock in your grip, teasing it and feeling it. You were surprised by how velvety the skin felt.
As you continued to make up with Eddie, cock in hand. You suddenly felt braver, and the need to have him in your mouth grew stronger. You slinked your way off the couch so you were sat in front of him on your knees, eyes and mouth level with his behemoth that he calls his cock.
“You sure, little one?" He asked, and you nodded your head with a smile. You moved before your surge of confidence broke.
You sat up a little more and moved his cock towards you, and tentatively licked the tip. You continued your kitten licks a few more times before enveloping his tip in your warm, wet mouth. You peered up at Eddie through your long lashes; he looked like he was enjoying himself, so you must have been doing something right? You swirled your tongue along the tip before dipping you're head down lower to take more of him. Eddie let out a moan, and this made you smile. Yes, you were doing something right. So you continued, lower and lower.
You'd be lying if you didn't say you've tested your gag reflex on one of the dildos you own; where is the fun in that? But now that it was a real mans cock in your mouth, you understood the hype about giving head. You genuinely liked it so far, but that's probably due to Eddie and how comfortable he makes you feel.
"You sure you've never done this before?" He managed to get out.
"uhhhhuuhhhhhh" You moned against his cock and that only jerked Eddie's hip up into you.
"Oh shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, that just felt really good, baby" He stroked your head before gripping the back of your hair like he was resisting to push you further down.
"Fuck baby, you're way too good at this to be a virgin."
"You calling me a Liar, Mr. Munson?" You popped off his cock and started jerking him off with your hand again.
"No, no, baby, shit, I mean, ohhh, fuck you're very good for this being your first time."
"Thank you" You put the tip back in your mouth as you sucked on it, but your hands continued to work the shaft.
Eddie didn't last much longer; he told you to take your mouth off but continue with your hands, not wanting to ruin his chance of being with you again if you tasted cum for the first time and you were disgusted. So you listened, wanting to please him; you watched as the white liquid spurted from his shaft and ran down your hands. It was warm and all you could picture was what it would look like leaking out of your pussy.
"Let me get you a towel" You got up when his cock finally stopped spazming.
You walked back over with a warm wet dishtowel, but not before you took his softening cock in your mouth to wipe up the access.
"Jesus Christ," Eddie wasn't expecting that. It was like he had awoken something inside you.
"I wanted to know what you tasted like," you surged before you handed him the towel.
"You, little minx, are going to be the death of me."
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Eddie and you had been going out for two months since he moved in, and it had been a week since you gave Eddie your first blow job. It's been on your mind for the majority of the week. So when he asked you out again on a fourth date, you were very excited to see how that one would end. What more would the two of you explore?
Eddie cooked for you; he had a nice romantic dinner in his kitchen. His place was finally fully unpacked, and he gave you a grand official tour of his house afterward.
"You going to show me your bedroom?" You teased.
"You would love that, wouldn't you?" He teased back.
You headed up to his room. You walk inside, and it's pretty spacious; he has a small window off to the side that looks into your house. You stroll around the beige-carpeted floors to see if your suspicions are correct. He does, in fact, have a direct view of your bedroom.
"Ever spy on me, Mr. Munson?"
"mmmmm once or twice." He chuckles as his strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer to his body.
"Really?" You got a bit nervous; what had he seen?
"Well, a man can't help his curiosity when he hears a sweet voice moaning his name in the middle of the night."
This makes you gasp. He had to be joking! But then again, your windows are close together, and you love leaving them open...
"Don't worry, sweetheart." He turned you to face him, but you buried yourself into his chest, too embarrassed to look at him. "It's flattering.”
"Eddie" you moaned into his chest."
"I'm serious, knowing you want an old guy like me?"
"You're not even that old," you mumbled.
"Please look at me, Sunshine." He tilted your head up so he could gaze into your eyes. You tried to fight it, but you ultimately gave in.
"I'm embarrassed," You pout.
"Don't be; you don't even need to be embarrassed about your fantasies with me. Understood?"
"Okay." You shy away meekly.
“You want to tell me your fantasies? What you were thinking about when you touched yourself all alone in that bed of yours?”
“I-i-want…“
“It’s okay. I know you’re nervous, sweetheart. You can tell me.”
You paused, took a deep breath and closed your eyes.
“I want to be taken care of,” you whispered.
“And”
“I want you to be the one to do it…”
"We can definitely arrange that," he said before taking your lips. His tongue parted your lips, making its way into your mouth. He was an excellent kisser. You were getting wet just by his kisses alone.
Eddie backs you up and leads you toward the king-size bed. Your knees give out when they hit the soft mattress, and you fall back, dragging Eddie down with you.
"You gonna let me take care of you, baby?"
"Please?"
"That's my girl." He smiled into the kiss before getting up so you could shimmy back onto the bed so you could rest on the pillows.
Eddie's mouth found yours again as his hands travelled up your body, feeling every inch of your skin. You felt like your body was on fire; the heat radiating between the two of you was evident.
"Can I take this off?" He played with the hem of your sundress.
"You can do whatever you want"
"That's a big promise, little one, gotta be careful with making promises like that." he cocks his head.
"I just want you." You go to take off your dress, but Eddie stops you so he can do it himself. You came prepared; you wore the nicest bra and panty set you owned. A pink lace and satin set. It made your boobs look out of this world the way the fabric cupped you just right. Accentuating every curve.
"All this f'me?"
You didn't answer. You just needed to kiss him again; your bodies melded together as he pressed you further into the mattress. His hands cupped your breasts, moulding and kneading them, and your sensitive nipples began to perk up at his rough touch.
"You're perfect," Eddie sighed as his mouth detached from yours and moved down to your neck. Your body tingled as his soft lips explored the exposed skin.
"Eddie," you moaned out in pleasure. Your hips started to grind up onto Eddie's calf, and he knew he had you right where he wanted.
His hands moved lower, cupping your lace covered heat. His fingers felt so good above the lace that separated the two of you; you couldn't wait to see what they felt like skin to skin.
"You mind if I?"
"Yes!" you said, a little too excited. But Eddie didn't mind. He thought it was so cute the way you were eager to let him explore your body.
"You know how often I've pictured you on this bed?" You shake your head, not biting your lip.
"Oh well, I would picture you like this... no, wait. There would be much less clothing." He wraps his arms around his body to take off his shirt, and he throws it across the room; next to go were his pants. You giggled at his antics. "Much better."
You could feel his cock press against your stomach as he pounced back down onto you. He continued where he had left off, his hand exploring your clothed cunt again, circling your clit above your panties, making you let out a sweet moan. He moved his hands further up until he made his way underneath your panties.
Your hips automatically moved as Eddie's hands explored your wet folds. His free hand pressed your hip, silently telling you not to move, that he will do this for you. You no longer had to be the only one to make yourself feel good. He was here to take care of you.
His thick finger slipped past your folds and up into your tight cunt.
"Oh!" You called out as his fingers broke past the barrier. They were much bigger than you're used to; your hands could never do the same as he was doing now.
"You're ok, baby," he cooed. He worked his hands inside of you, hitting a spot you'd never located before. That made your mind go numb and all fuzzy.
Eddie pulled out of you, and you whimpered in protest but quickly understood he was only taking off your panties for you. You lifted your legs, you helped him out, and he kissed down your leg until he reached your centre.
"May I?" He asked.
"Yes." You sigh.
Eddie waisted not a moment longer. His lips attached themselves to your lower ones. You’d never felt anything like it. The way his soft mouth moved around your clit, kissing and sucking on your swollen bud. You thought I couldn’t get any better than this. Until his tongue made its way onto your body and you cried out in pleasure. Too consumed by Eddie to be embarrassed by how loud you were being.
“Eddie! Oh god, yes, fuck right there!”
“You taste so sweet, even better than I imaged.” Eddie hummed into your cunt mimicking the vibrations your so use to with your vibrating toys. You body was quivering underneath him within minutes. He was way too good at this.
“Please, I’m coming, oh god I’m cuming!” You try to catch your breath with every world but it wa s no use. Eddie didn’t let up until your body was spent.
You watched Eddie sit up, your liquids covering his chin. He smiled as he spoke.
“We are only just getting started baby”
Another whimper left your throat as he pulled down his boxers to reveal his hard cock. It bobbed as it was released from its confines and you wanted nothing more than to feel it in your mouth again.
“I know what you’re thinking, baby. But no, not tonight. I need to feel you.” He went to the nightstand and opened the drawer. You watched as he pulled out the condom from its foil wrappings. Your legs clenched in anticipation.
"I'm going to take real good care of you, Sunshine." he rolled it into himself before crawling back over your body.
"Okay, Eddie. I trust you."
Eddie's heart fluttered as you spoke. He was so honoured that you chose him to be your first. He would make you see what you had missed this whole time.
"You ready?" He asked.
"Yes, I think so." You nod.
Eddie hovered over you as he took your lips into his once more. You could taste yourself in his mouth and he slowly worked the tip along your slit collecting your natural lube so he could slip himself easily inside.
"Oh my god!' Eddie was thick, so much thicker than you were used to with your silicone boyfriend you had hidden in the drawer. Thank god you were at least used to that because you didn't know how you would have handled this otherwise.
"You're doing so well for me, Sunshine." he praised as his cock dove deeper into you. Your tight cunt felt like paradise.
You told Eddie he could start moving once you were comfortable and adjusted to his size.
You saw starts as his cock plunged in and out of you; it felt so fucking good. You couldn't keep in your pleasure. Moan after moan was music to Eddie's ears. Why had you waited this long to feel something so good?
"So good, fuck, you're so fucking tight." His strokes never let up. He kept the same tempo as his hips snapped into you. Your mouths hardly disconnect unless you need to come up for air. His hands explored under your bra as he pulled a cup down to free your nipple. He moved from your mouth down to take your breast into his mouth, curling your peaked bud just like he did your clit minutes before.
Your body was lit up again; the heat between you both was one thousand degrees. Eddie, was your everything at this moment. You didn't, nor couldn't think of anything but the pleasure he was feeding you.
"More, more, more," You chant as Eddie's cock pounds into you, filling you more than you had ever felt before.
Eddie listened and moved his hands to your clit. Sparking an electrical bolt through your entire body. Your already sensitive clit was pulsing with desire as Eddie continued to pleasure you. With each stroke of his cock and hand, your body couldn't take it anymore, and you began to convulse under him.
"Shit fuck, you're squeezing me so tight," Eddie spoke before he realized that he was making you cum undone beneath him.
"Oh, yes! Eddie!"
"That's it, such a good girl, taking me so well. God your pussy is made for me." he spoke as he still used your body for his own pleasure. He didn't take much after your cunt latched down on him like a vice that he was coming right after you. A loud grunt left his lips as he felt a wave of please come over his body. His sensitive cock spurted its hot while cum into the condom that was still inside you.
"Wow," Was all you managed to say. Your brain was mush, but it was the best way possible.
"Yeah, wow," Eddie chuckled as he rolled off of you, out of breath but feeling blissful nonetheless.
"Is it always like that?" You mindlessly asked.
"With me, baby girl? Yeah." He chuckled.
"Wow," You repeated. Your brain is still not fully back down to earth.
"You wanna be my girl Sunshine?"
This snapped you back into reality.
"What? Really?" You turn your head to look at him.
"Yeah, baby girl," He cupped your face, waiting for your answer.
"Yes, Eddie, I'll be your girl"
Part 2
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controld3vil · 5 months ago
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here we stand
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pairing: jacerys velaryon x mormont!reader
synopsis: news had broken out that the throne has been usurped. jacerys rides his way to winterfell, the end to the north where he meets cregan stark. and in evidently, you, lady mormont of bear island.
notes: first of all, HE LOOKS SO GOOD w/ long hair !! also this mentions the first scene in s2 ep 1, i just tweeked a few things where now jacerys receives the terrible news days after getting acquitted in at winterfell. and bc i wished for more jace & cregan interaction >:( no beta reading btw !!
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Duty is sacrifice.
All know of it. It bypasses any blood or foe. To honor one's duty is to sacrifice one's possessions. And oaths can last long over through generations. It is bypassing children and their children. It is the utmost fidelity any honorable man should know. If for the Seven Kingdoms and everyone at stake at what's beyond the Wall. A barrier that towers over seven hundred feet from what lies more gruesome than death.
Your cousin, Cregan Stark took up the responsibility as Lord of Winterfell, sometime after the passing of his father, Rickon Stark. He's a noble lad, he took upon the role at the age of six and ten. He was young but quickly learned how to command and serve the people. Much like his House's words, he understood what was coming. Though unexpected news of an envoy from Dragonstone had landed him in monetary consideration. Of what's to come with his men and the upcoming raging war.
"This is only late summer snow, my prince. In winter it will cover all you see and all memories of warmth will be forgotten." The metal chamber that brings them to the top of the Wall stops and both men walk out into the cold winter bridge. It's desolate and high in altitude.
Jacaerys could only imagine what it would feel like in wintertime, where there is nothing else but ice. "It pleases me that over a century ago our ancestors were treated in this very place. The Conqueror and the King in the North." His brown hair, inches longer, flutters past the cold air. Even with his blood, the descendant of the ferocious fire-breathing creatures, his heart still churns with a chill.
"You at least had the mercy not to threaten me with your dragon." The Lord of Winterfell smiles, eyeing the prince's reaction to the weather. No Southerner would know the true cold past summer.
The crowned prince returns his grin, looking out into the view beyond the Wall. From seven hundred feet above, everything, even the trees and people looked small. A wall that has been built this tall must offer security for what's beyond more terrifying than wildings and foes.
"While your men stand to protect against wildings and weather, the Hightowers plan to usurp my mother's throne. It is the duty of the Seven Kingdoms, and you, as Lord of Winterfell, to uphold your oaths sworn to the heir to the Iron Throne," Jacaerys gaze moves across where his eyes can take him off the Wall. It stretches out ridiculously long with men at every post. He has passed by a few to know whether or not, it was their obligation to join the Night's Watch, it was now their vow to protect this sacred place. However, he needed to remind Lord Stark of his reason for visiting. If the realm remained unbalanced, even Winterfell would not prosper.
"Starks do not forget our oaths, my prince," Cregan restates, with a look of sympathy and seriousness. "But you must know that my gaze will forever fall between the north and south. Here, in the winter, my duty to the Wall is more dire than what I ought in King's Landing. I need my men."
The prince of Dragonstone's look flickers, questionably. Until a holler from one of the watchmen signals Cregan of a visitor. He nods before glancing back at Jacaerys to dismiss him. A soft courtesy of his name before stepping down the post to greet the newcomer.
The cranks of the elevator come to a final stop. Before a pair of boots shuffle out of the old compartment to be met with the face of your cousin. Cregan's eyes meet yours in surprise and you subconsciously feel your shoulders untensed.
"Cousin,"
"Lady Mormont," He says with utmost respect as he can decipher the faint footsteps from behind Dragonstone's envoy. "What reason may you come to visit the Wall?"
"I received word that a messenger from Dragonstone came," Your bear fur coat holds you snug to protect you from the harsh winds. And your embroidered gloves, made from leather and deer fur have kept your fingers from freezing off during the trip to the edge of Winterfell. Your hands clasp together in an assertion. "Though I can already see he has arrived." Your soft stare transfigures onto Jacaerys and the sudden attention makes him slightly step aback.
Your lord gives you a playful look before turning back. "My prince, this is Lady Mormont of Bear Island. She is a close friend of mine and cousin." As embarrassed as the prince was, he could feel heat run up his spine as Jacaerys struggled to say anything welcoming.
"It is an honor to meet you, Lady Mormont,"
"The pleasure is mine," You blink innocently before addressing yet again your reason for presence. “Come, discuss matters over the fire,” 
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Eventually, a week has gone by with Jacaerys Velayron’s stay. His extended stay has left questions and concerns for the townsfolk. However, Cregan reassures them, replying to them in short curt responses. In all, he explains the prince should rest before riding back to Dragonstone as it was a few days' journey from the North. This brought no rejection from either party and allowed the two boys to catch up and take into consideration the risks. 
You were always welcome at Winterfell. When you were little, your father, Lord Mormont, visited the black castle occasionally to meet with Lord Stark. The maids and servants knew you well as well as the Starks. They treated you like their own blood despite you being a distinct relative from a faraway island. Rare at times would they come to visit your home. Your homeland was not as welcoming as Winterfell some may say. Your House resided over lone shores, topped with horrific rock structures and charcoal reefs. A ruthless and barbaric landmark for the House of the Bear. 
“I appreciate your hospitality, Lord Stark,” Jacaerys starts, holding his ale cup to drink as all of the other guests gather to feast for the night. The three of you alongside Cregan’s son, Rickon, were seated at the high table, enjoying the luxurious scene before you all.
Large condiments of meats, pastries, and wine for the people, nobles of the Northmen. Feasts were something that brought together everyone during harsh times. In times of violence or sorrow, it is the shared appreciation you all must endure to move forward. That is true of what the people of the North had that no other House had. The Velaryron prince gives you an appreciative smile. “And to you, Lady Mormont, I thank you for your sincere support of my mother’s claim.”
“Here we stand,” You raise your goblet, reciting your very House words. True to what it meant, your family stood prepared for what days would come to an end. You understood one day you have a place in something greater when the moment was right and here it was now, lying right in front of you. Mormonts are known to be willing to fight even when the odds are against them. So were you when you declared fealty to Cregan Stark, your dear cousin. Your loyalty towards him would only mean you would go to the ends of the Earth to fulfill your promise. “And here we fight for the queen.” 
Despite not having Rhaenyra, her son knew she would be fond of you. Your attitude and strong integrity were something few held at King’s Landing. He acknowledged that people may not agree with his mother’s claim. However, there will always be those who still believe and support her. You are one of those people. Despite being hundreds of miles away from King’s Landing, Cregan and you showed fealty and loyalty to the oaths sworn nearly a decade ago. Some day, he wishes his mother would meet you. 
“Of course,” Cregan begins, settling his cup down, before patting for his son to come towards him. “With the men we have, it is guaranteed they’d be ready to march the earliest as of the morrow” Rickon starts off his wooden seat and shuffles to his father’s lap. A clumsy stumble and the Lord of Winterfell picks up the child with ease with a soft smile. “From there, the men will march to King’s Landing.”
“Then I should leave by the morrow,” Rhaenyra’s son places his arms on the table.
Your heart skips a half second, knowing that the time you spent together would be short-lived eventually. The prince was sent as a messenger, nothing more. His stay was long overdue, though no word from Dragonstone has the eyes of the ravens yet. It sinks to you momentarily when you place the last piece of meat into your mouth and down the last drops of your ale. 
“Yes, your visit has been short-lived,” Your cousin sighs, too aware of how the brief meeting would be over. Jacaerys was a good friend, being the same age as him, Cregan felt well acquainted with him. He had only wished that they had met under different circumstances and times. Perhaps when war wages on, they would meet again on the battlefield or after they have won against the Greens. Speculation of what was next was unknown. “But you have our support, my prince. Do not fret, we will prepare for what the Hightowers plan.” 
Jacaerys nods, understandably. He turns to you who sweetly bobs your head in agreement. How delicate your features looked in the dim ambers of the Winter halls. He’s enamored by your presence with how often he gravitates towards your direction.
He had always assumed Northern women would be different from Southerners. They were different. Northerners were divine in their way. You excluded such poise and delicacy, Jacaerys sometimes couldn’t help but become curious of you. Your hobbies, what you liked to do, what was your favorite food, and your most desired ambitions. Southerners in King’s Landing were graceful and fragile like the summer breeze. However, you were like a chilly snow cast. The cold, it’s welcoming and he constantly feels chills running down his spine whenever your eyes meet. 
“Now what do you think of the North?” Your lord light-heartedly brings up to lighten the mood. You and Cregan enjoyed the short mornings with the prince. The limited time you shared allowed for intimate discussions and a way to become acquainted with one another. The people, how things functioned, and how you adapted to the cold. It’s far much different than what he’s accustomed to in Dragonstone, where his home echoed through miles.  Compared to the North, Winterfell was exceptionally enormous but had a sense of home and warmth. 
“It’s different from Dragonstone,” The brown-haired envoy laughs, showing quite fond forever his home. “My home resides by the sea, surrounded by the high tides and rough shores. The castle is covered in obsidian stone and is known to be indestructible. My family has lived there for centuries now.” 
“How fascinating,” Your cousin breathes, showing his teeth. “I’ve heard stories about Dragonstone. Some say you can find dragon eggs deep in the mountains.”
“That is true, our dragons reside in caves. They lay their eggs in crystallized magma. Our dragon masters look after the eggs and know when the time is right to harvest them.” 
“What happens when a dragon egg doesn't hatch?” You lean your head forward, hands clasped together again. Learning about his family and their customs kept your interest for a long time. Not many Southern Houses come to visit from King’s Landing. They rather stay where it is warm and avoid the uncomfortable weather and travel to the North. Your eagerness was appreciated when Jacearys considered your question. 
“We wouldn’t know for sure when they would or would not hatch. We simply wait it out.” He quirks a gentle smile when your gaze is sort of magnetic. It’s like you were in a trance every time he spoke of anything he was interested in. 
“How long have you waited for one to hatch?” Cregan picks up his cup again to refill while his son pivots to run to the other side of the table, only to be greeted by you. With big smiles, you gladly carried the child to your side. 
“A few years,” Jacearys remembers the day well. He remembers his brother Joffrey, struggling and whining to his mother about his egg. He was as young as four, however in the first three years of his life, his dragon had not hatched. It’s a mystery when the dragon decides to break out of its shell. He was fortunate with Vermax after months of being born, his companion was right beside him from the start. Lucerys had a similar reaction. Rhaenyra often told stories of many instances of good and bad hatchlings alongside their rider. Some may not have been awakened by its rider, for they might have been dead already. The unknown enigma of those ferocious beasts pales in the prince’s head.
“It must’ve been unpleasant,” You joked, hugging Rickon tightly, having his cheek meet with yours. The young boy giggles loudly, taking hold of both of your cheeks in excitement. 
The atmosphere felt sublime and almost too perfect. Here in the warmth and formality of the Stark Household, everyone was lively and heeded no sorrows. How the prince wished upon the same for Dragonstone. If only the realm was brought together and the Hightowers had not usurped his mother’s throne despite her rightful claim. Would his family be united and happy finally?
He wasn’t sure as Jacaerys had never known familial love on his mother’s side. Both of his uncles vexed him, Luke and Joffrey. Helaena was kind, however, never showing malice towards him and his brothers. But the Hand of the King, and Queen Regent. Quiet in their schemes and distaste for bastards. 
Affection is what fills the prince’s chest with glee. As he scans the dining room of men, women, and children, they all feast and brawl over pointless endeavors. The scent of mead and hot fresh meat fills the room with chaotic laughter and nonsensical bubbling. In another time and place, Jacaerys would have been thrilled to visit Winterfell during this time of year. 
And his gaze slowly follows the wisp of your faint figure by the fireplace. With the heir of House Stark, you blow raspberry kisses against Rickon’s hot cheeks. As the boy squeals in delight, grabbing at the ends of your hair like ropes on the ship, bouncing them back and forth. You were good to Rickon, Jacaerys knows you care for the boy like it were your son. He thinks Cregan is grateful to have someone's endearment and protection toward his son. For the lack of a maternal figure had been long gone. You would be a great mother one day, he deciphers. You constantly fiddle Rickon’s hair which reminds him of his mother when he was little. 
It was such a faint memory that stuck in his mind whenever he saw you with the children. Rhaenyra would question him if she were here. Mothers had a knack for spotting things such as things. The prince knew of his interest in you. However, would you do the same if he made them clear as day?
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You never said anything to him. It makes him question if you were truly interested or not. You’ve shown fondness over meals and spoke of jokes whenever he came out to the stables, where his poor dragon, Vermax, gruntled in the snow. 
“I’m sorry the farmers could not do much to help your dragon!” You shouted out one day in the early sunrise. He takes a few steps from his companion to find you in white fur coats and boots. You looked beautiful, the color suits you. As elegant and dainty as the pigment of his mother’s hair. Your locks were braided halfway with the rest, flowing down from your ears to your shoulders. “We don’t often have dragons visit us in the North!”
The prince laughs with small puffs of his breath becoming visible. “The stable boys did a fine job in accompanying Vermax.” At the call of his dragon’s name, it slowly hovers over his dragon rider. It purrs warmly in the frost as your eyes glower in fascination.
“He’s beautiful,” Your voice is nearly breathless at the size difference Vermax has over the buildings and people. It is a creature that comes far beyond your imagination and fairy tales. It's olive green scale prickle in delight as your eyes began to wonder back and forth. Dragons were rare in the North and it must’ve been a relentless recurrence for the people in King’s Landing. 
The prince hums before kicking a chunk of frozen dirt. He makes an effort to be bold for once. “Would you like to pet him?” 
You looked shook and it made him struggle to keep a composed posture. You stumble to make any words come out of your mouth. “I- May I?” 
“Of course,” The dragon rider comes forward and grabs your hand, dragging himself closer to the beast. The sudden contact and closure make your heart beat faster than anticipated. As you find yourself glancing up at its reptilian eyes. In horror, you hold your ground, wanting nothing more than to back away. “It’s alright, he won’t hurt you.” 
Jacery’s reassurance doesn't comfort you as you resist his grip on your wrist. Vermax merely stands, grumbling in curiosity as to your stricken presence. It’s trying to inquire about your anxiety when it was the reason for it in the first place.
Taking a short take of air, you stand in place. You did your best to calm your breathing, feeling a hand on your lower back to support you. Your dainty eyes meet the prince. And within contact, it felt as though you felt everything would be alright. His touch soothed your racing heart as you excelled forward, step by step closer to the beast. For you, it must’ve felt like the clock had slowed down when you were merely inches away from Vermax. Its enormous size was breathtaking and you could make your lungs free of oxygen again. 
Yet your state of mind returns when the queen’s heir comes into view. The air felt a tension between fear and anxiety. It was both exhilarating and terrifying for someone who has never seen a dragon up close before. You took the last big step when you lifted your fingers above its nose. 
Vermax shivered and at the last minute, you wanted to back out. Until Jacaerys hand envelopes over your hand to pet his companion. With such care and attentiveness, you should have realized the prince’s advances towards you by now.
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The Godswood was a welcoming pastime you’ve grown to respect. With the decline in visits, you’ve come to value the historic tree for what it stood for and the ancestral value it had over your people. Cregan did not mind whenever you went away to pay your respects. He knew how important it was to you to respect the old gods and the new. War was coming. If you were going to support Rhaenyra, you only wish for your men to come out victorious. 
You were no war-picking woman. But death was something you’ve come to accept recently. The passing of Rickon Stark brought a hole in your heart. You mourned in your ways, and so did Cregan when you had heard he had taken the mantle as Lord of Winterfell. He still is a young man, barely over six and ten. The best you could do was offer your presence and time. To him, being present with the people and acting lively was enough for him to regain his mind. Everyone looked up to Rickon for what he stood for and the House. There is no doubt Cregan would do the same in the coming time to King’s Landing. 
“It’s saddening, isn’t it?” You breathe into the crisp air, only to feel your throat grow dry. But the person behind you knows you were referring to them. “How war affects us all.” 
The prince of Dragonstone steps out from the shadows. His steps were slow and gruff, still worn out from the feast and the massive amount of ale that was offered to him. But you were the only thing that had piqued his interest. You were quiet, not expecting an answer from him. Until he stepped and stopped right beside you, shoulders nearly touching but inches apart. Your bear coat was held loosely on you as he recalled you too struggled to leave the dining table. You all drank too much tonight. 
“The Godswood know of it all. They see everything,” The bear bronze sigil shines past his peripherals when he cannot meet your gaze. You were not drunk enough to do something reckless but not too sober to do anything either. 
In return, all you could ever see was Jacaerys furrowed expression. He’s contemplating something. But you choose to stare and take in his features with such interest and curiosity. His soft and tranquil pout resembles much of a wolf you’ve seen. As though his curly strands, which you would imagine, are dim to the touch. The prince holds assertiveness in his duty, falling into the role of heir as for his queen. Perhaps he’s everything that his mother stood for. You admired it. 
“Know you and your men's contributions would be known,” He whispers, it’s clear you could feel his breath close to your neck. The dark clouds could not even hide the indisputable truth. The crescent moon gleams somewhere in the far distance you can’t seem to find. But you know what’s true. Because moments ago, you could discern his distance inches away. Now it seems that he wants to close the gap by the second. “And that…”
“That we did our duties, nothing more.” You pant, unable to keep your eyes from moving from his gaze and lips. Strands of his dark brown hair trickle against your cheeks as you take one last glimpse at your prince. If any of this was acceptable. You wouldn’t exceed further to know he’d reject your proclaimed assumptions. 
But nothing happens. It was as though the chill in the air had changed. When another figure reappears out of the shadows and into the light. Jacaerys distances himself from you. While you did your best to compose yourself for being caught red-handed by a servant boy.
“My Lady,” The innocent boy chants, as he holds up a scroll. “A message from Dragonstone.” Jacearys’s eyes shot up as you were given the letter. The moment you give the signal of approval, the servant boy leaves into the abyss and back into the cabin. 
You unlatched the curly paper and patiently read its contents. The prince carefully awaits, every so longing to catch any misdemeanor you would have upon what letter had. He hopes and wishes it is good news more than anything. But you held a stone-cold expression and when you looked up at him, he could only discern sorrow with the words that come out of your mouth.
“I’m sorry, my prince.”
1K notes · View notes
obxsummer · 1 month ago
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selfish // ghost of you
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navigation -- series masterlist
pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader (she/her)
summary: covering the 18 months after el dorado, the pogues are home and are attempting to work through life back in kildare. you're dealing with your trauma setting in, and jj's usual reckless decisions are not helpful in the slightest. oh, and it's time to treasure hunt. again.
warnings: s4 spoilers! for episode one, violence, cursing, the usual obx. heavy mentions of trauma/depression/anxiety/ptsd.
-- So, you might be wondering. What happens after you find the lost city of El Dorado, get blown up, two of your parents die, and you’re stranded in South America with a sack full of gold? Let’s catch up.
First, you catch a ride back home, and you sleep for like three weeks. And then when you finally get back, you make peace with the fam… or not really. And after all the loose ends are tied up, the gold.
$1,172,549…Enough money to get you back on your feet and taken care of after what had been the most insane chase of your life. Pope was the mastermind that pieced together a plan and after a heated, overpriced auction, you stood in front of the old Maybank property that had been transformed into a dream. A surf shop, JJ’s new boat, a dock, and a house full of love and friendship.
Granted, things got iffy and your plethora of money dropped quickly (no thanks to JJ’s poor budgeting), and you were already tight in terms of keeping the business alive. So, you were laying low and helping where you could.
While you were glad to be home and no longer on the run, it didn’t keep away the haunting memories that followed. This was the first time since John B went missing that you’d been able to sit with your thoughts and try to process everything that happened. And it wasn’t easy.
“Hey there, sweet thing.”
You glanced up from your spot on the hammock, having been dozing in and out of sleep for a few minutes now. JJ stood in the doorway, his cutoff shirt framing his tanned skin nicely as you smiled up at him.
“Hi.”
He moved to meet you, lips pressing against yours in a warm, feverish kiss. The two of you had just spent the weekend away in Savannah, Georgia while the other Pogues placed the finishing touches on the property and store for opening. They were more than happy to send the two of you off for time away since you were both more touchy and lovey than you had been in a while. It was the vacation you needed and deserved.
“You coming to the race?” JJ’s voice was raspy and he sat on the netting next to you. It was the annual Kildare Enduro, one that JJ loved to get involved in and you loved to watch, but after his last biking accident, you were a bit nervous.
Your fingers messed with the hair behind his neck as you hummed in agreement, pulling him back down to your lips. “Not happy about you racing on that bike but yes, I’m coming.”
One of the few things you all allowed was for John B and JJ to pick out a new dirt bike, given the fact that you only had the Twinkie as reliable transportation. Now all three of the boys had their own, so as long as the van kept running, the six of you had a fair chance.
“You love me on the bike, baby.”
You chuckled at JJ’s words, giving him another kiss before rolling off the hammock to prevent yourself from falling asleep. “I love seeing you on the bike, J. Don’t love you racing on it.”
The beach was slammed with bikes, trucks, and tents for the racers and crowd of the day when you all arrived. You and Kie business yourself grabbing lemonade as Cleo and John B made sure JJ’s bike was ready to go. 
“How was your trip?” Kie asked as she shoved her reusable straw into the lemonade cup after politely declining the plastic ones the cashier had offered. 
You pushed your sunglasses up and sipped your drink as the two of you started walking back to where the Twinkie was parked. “So nice and peaceful. We didn’t do too much but it was a welcomed change in the chaos.”
Your eyes caught sight of Topper Thornton in his red racing gear, no doubt having a stare-off with your boyfriend. The thought of JJ out there racing against Kooks who clearly had a bone to pick with you guys didn’t help your anxiety.
Sarah thanked you as you handed her a lemonade before sitting in the back of the van which had been pulled up to the makeshift track so you all could watch. Being in this new rhythm had been so odd for you, especially after you started to make peace with the idea that you would never have this sort of “normal” again.
“Did you know?”
You looked up to see your brother, John B, staring back at you with a frustrated frown on his face. He had pulled on his racing jacket, which added to your confusion, but you could tell he was pissed at something. And just like that, things had gone to shit again.
You glanced at Sarah, who looked just as confused before shaking your head. “What are you talking about?”
John B sighed and stepped closer, crouching in front of you. His demeanor changed when you tensed, not knowing what was happening. “Did you know JJ bet the gold?”
“He what?” Your voice was deep and angry. JJ’s lack of self-control when it came to spending money had become severely frustrating for all of you, especially when he spent so much to reclaim his house when it wasn’t worth over half of it. “Please tell me you’re lying, JB.”
He didn’t answer and instead, got to his feet to grab the handles of his own bike that had been driven over.
“John B!” You set your lemonade down and quickly got to your feet as Kiara started cussing out JJ’s behavior, Sarah mumbling her agreement. “Are you serious?”
Your brother stopped short, his eyes searching yours as if he could say everything without speaking. He knew you were already anxious about JJ racing, and putting both of them in there was slowly becoming a fearful experience for you. It didn’t make you feel any better when Rafe settled into a spot next to Topper on his bike, revving his engine to make a scene.
“I’ve got him, okay? We’re gonna make it work.”
You didn’t say anything else, watching as he made his way to the starting line and leaving you between two heated girls who had their glares set on your boyfriend.
It had been hard for you to adjust after nearly dying multiple times while in South America. You’d had a lot of talking sessions amongst each other as a group to cope with it, making sure everyone aired all their emotions when they needed to. Even as though you were practically adults, life was still scary, and you’d had too many breakdowns to not acknowledge it.
JJ had taken most of the nightmares and sleepless nights you’d been cursed with, talking you through every bit of it until you would fall back asleep. John B did his best to pull you out of your head, clocking the look on your face when you’d get too deep and try to pull away. He meant it when he said he was working on being better for everyone, but especially you.
It was a process, but it was working. Slowly but surely, you were healing. It weighed on you mentally, but you were so appreciative to have the support you did.
So, watching the two boys you loved the most get into a race with people that hated you, was scary. 
“They’ll be fine,” Sarah reassured as she watched her own boyfriend pull his helmet on before adjusting his bandana around his face. “Does JJ ever think before he does anything?”
“No, never,” You were quick to answer, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not even once.”
Kie wordlessly held her joint out to you, which you took with no objection. This was slowly becoming a horror movie as they took off from the starting line, the roar of the bikes overwhelming as sand flew up behind them. You kept your eyes on JJ and John B as long as you could until they disappeared over the hill and into the treeline. 
“We’ve got some serious contact in the brush. Oh, and it sounds like Topper didn’t like Maybank crowding him there. Taught him a little lesson. Stuffed him like a turkey!”
You groaned, burying your face into your hands as the announcer covered the parts of the races you couldn’t see behind the trees. Not only was JJ losing, he was losing badly.
“It looks like they’re turning around the buoy. We’ve got Rafe Cameron still in front ahead of the group of riders. Cameron seems to have things well in hand. No mistakes and he should take home the Kildare Enduro. There’s Maybank bringing up the rear. Tough race for him and oh, he’s down again in the deep sand!”
Kiara groaned loudly this time. “Fucking shit, JJ!”
“Wait, what’s he doing?” You caught on to the fact that JJ wasn’t slowing down to make the left-handed turn that would put him en route with everyone else and instead had set his eyes straight ahead where the inlet met the track. “Are we seriously doing this again?”
Sarah grabbed your hand, squeezing tightly as JJ approached the jump at full speed. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t take your eyes off the scene as he threw himself and the bike in the air, managing to catch the ground just ahead of Rafe.
“Holy shit!” Cleo yelled as JJ pushed forward, everyone bursting into cheers as he held the lead. The remaining racers turned the corner and you caught sight of John B nearing Topper, the two pushing each other for the next spot. 
Rafe managed to catch up to JJ quicker than you would’ve liked as they hit the final stretch. Things were looking up and you fought the glimmer of hope bubbling in your chest that this may all end up in your favor.
Until Rafe’s tire nudged JJ’s and sent both of them flying in the air. 
“Jay!” You were moving before you realized, only to get tugged back by Sarah and Pope from interfering as more racers caught up. JJ was moving though, and that was the only part you really cared about. 
John B came flying into view next, barely stopping in time to miss JJ’s crumbled form that was in the sand, which gave Topper the door to win. You couldn’t even care about that though, and as soon as the bikes cleared you were flying forward to your boys on the track. You made it to them as John B pulled JJ from the ground, your boyfriend shoving your brother angrily as he mouthed off. 
“Hey!” You yelled and grabbed JJ’s arm to move him as he tossed his helmet aside angrily. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
JJ shook his head and continued separating himself from the group. “I don’t want to hear it right now.”
“Then you’re going to fucking hear it later, JJ!” You shouted after him, anger overtaking your anxiety as the adrenaline wore off. So much could’ve gone wrong and you could’ve lost more than the money. You glared at him, angry tears burning your eyes as he continued to walk away as if it didn’t matter. 
“Hey, hey.” John B’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, tugging you back into his chest as he turned you away from the sight of your retreating boyfriend. “He’s fine, we’re fine. That’s all that matters.”
“Get used to it.” A raspy voice cut off your response to your brother as you shifted to see Rafe pulling himself off the ground next to you. 
“What’d you say?” John B’s hold disappeared from around you before he moved forward to confront the older Kook with a shove. “Nah, man. What’d you say?”
Rafe hit John B back, both boys ready to start a fight instantly before Sarah jumped in between them. “Hey!” 
“This is forever, alright?” Rafe screamed, backing up a few paces. His face was burning red with anger and you feared he would lash out right in front of you. “Y’all don’t get to win.”
You shook your head, placing your hand on John B’s shoulder to keep him back. “We never get to win, Rafe. In case you haven’t fucking noticed.”
“You could’ve killed each other!” Sarah yelled back at him as she continued to force her brother away from your group. 
Rafe pulled himself out of her grip and shook his head. “Yeah, like you give a shit. You gonna kill me like you killed Dad?”
Your eyes widened as Sarah attempted to defend herself from the comment, but Rafe had already walked out of hearing range. Your friends crowded around the three of you, JJ still in his own head behind the crowd where you left him. 
John B shook his head, running his hand through his hair. The last hour had really wiped him out, physically and emotionally. “We are so screwed.”
Kiara nodded in agreement, the displeasure evident on her face. “Yeah. We are.”
“Why are we screwed?”
The question coming from Pope made you sigh and dig your palms into your eyes in frustration. This was the worst outcome possible for something that was supposed to be fun. 
“Just come on, let’s go.” John B led the group back to the van as Pope pushed for an answer that none of you were willing to give yet. Kie busied herself tossing the lawn chairs in the van, John B taking a seat on his bike and replacing his helmet as Sarah waited for him. 
“Do you want me to get him?” Cleo asked you as she nudged her head in JJ’s direction. You followed her movement to see the boy cussing at himself, kicking sand, and throwing an angry fit.
It broke your heart, but you shook your head. “Leave him, he can come home once he’s calmed down.”
That was another thing that had taken a lot of time to figure out, was how to separate yourself from everyone’s emotions. You were such an empathetic person that you wanted to solve the problems and help everyone, but it had taken its own toll for so long that you needed to end the habit. JJ included. As much as you wanted to run over and hug him and tell him it was fine, it wasn’t. 
It wasn’t until you guys were back home, John B and Sarah following the van on his bike, that Pope approached the subject again. “Someone better tell me what happened before I lose it.”
Shoving the passenger door open, you forced yourself out of the car, knowing the rage was coming quickly. “JJ bet the last of the gold on himself for the race.”
Silence echoed for a moment. 
“What the fuck!”
--
The rampage of Pope Heyward was well deserved. The poor boy had done so much to try and extend the gold payout as best as possible and lost in every way. So when JJ resurfaced at Poguelandia 2.0, all hell broke loose. 
“I said it. I said it once, and I said it again. I said don’t touch the last of our nugget. That was it. That was the last of our savings! Do you not care?”
JJ spun around in a fury, his body scratched and dirty with sand from the crash. “Pope, you saw what happened, man! He stole it, okay? He cheated and he stole it. That’s not my fault, Pope.”
“Do you know how selfish you sound?”
JJ laughed, which just pissed everyone off further. “I sound selfish? I was trying to help us.”
“You helped us, you just cost us everything. Thank you!”
You curled into the sleeves of your sweater as you watched your boyfriend pace. How he thought none of this was his fault was crazy. “Jayj, why are you making it sound like you had nothing to do with it?”
He looked at you and all the anger disappeared from his face, leaving the vulnerable boy you loved so much with tears in his eyes. “Okay, babe. Babe. You know me. Okay? I was gonna bet it all. That’s who I am.”
Kiara scoffed from next to you, “You should’ve talked to us first! It was too risky this time.”
“And what were you doing?” Pope’s anger turned toward John B, who instantly went wide eye at the attack. “You knew he had it and you just let him race?”
“He told me last minute, alright?” Your brother attempted to defend himself but it fell on silent ears.
“John B, look, man. You were supposed to cover-!”
“I did cover!”
The arguing escalated loudly between all three boys until you covered your hands over your ears to block it out. You’d never faired well with yelling since everything happened with Rafe, and hearing it from the people you loved made it worse even if it wasn’t directed at you.
Cleo took one look at you and shut it down. “Hey, enough!” Her voice echoed around the space, effectively chopping the harsh words that were being through. “How bad is it, Pope?”
“How bad is it?” Pope repeated the question as he faced her. “We have a $13,000 property tax payment due in seven days. And we have zero working capital. There is nothing. And you took the last of our savings, so thank you.”
Silence followed the heaviness of his voice before he left you all outside. You winced at the severity of JJ’s actions, knowing these consequences affected all of you and it wasn’t like the hot tub episode at the Chateau where it was a rough purchase. 
JJ called your name, breaking you from your thoughts as you looked up at him. His eyes were still red and clouded with tears. “Baby…”
“I’m going to go for a little bit. I’ll be back before dark.” You didn’t leave room for argument, instead taking off in the direction of the dock where the HMS Pogue was. 
You weren’t trying to give anyone the cold shoulder, but you promised yourself you would try to be better about handling your emotions on your own. You needed to process and take care of yourself alone sometimes.
“Hey,” Pope’s voice was soft as you caught sight of him in the boat, looking out over the water. Seems the two of you had the same idea to come out here. He whispered your name when you didn’t answer or say anything. 
You shrugged, climbing in to sit near him as you pulled your sleeves over your hands. “I’m trying.”
“You’re okay.” Pope’s affirmation sent you into tears. Your knees pulled to your chest as you let out a shaky breath. He didn’t hesitate to wrap you into a hug, letting you cry softly. 
“I’m trying really hard,” You breathed out, hating how weak your voice came out. “It’s like the second a voice raises I shut down and-and-”
Pope held you tightly against him, allowing you to have time to get your emotions out. These panic episodes happened more often than you’d like since you had all gotten home an you felt so embarrassed for your friends to deal with them. 
“Just breathe, I’ve got you. I promise.” 
Pope had become an anchor for you since the moment that was shared on the plane to Orinocco. When it had been revealed that you felt left behind after John B disappeared, he took it personally to help where and when he could. You had always been like a sibling to him and it broke his heart to know you were struggling so much.
The two of you sat there for a few until you caught your breath and recentered. The air was brisk as you drove the HMS through the marsh, taking in the sunset as you did. As much as you loved JJ, you were disappointed he had made this decision on his own. He was trying to help, he always was, but sometimes it just didn’t go that way.
“I’m sorry about JJ,” You said as Pope slowed down for the final stretch before the dock. “I know he means well, but it doesn’t always turn out that way.”
Pope shook his head softly. “I know he does too, but his impulse will be the death of him.”
Unfortunately, you didn’t disagree.
--
The house was relatively quiet as you walked in, quietly thanking Pope before making your way up to your shared bedroom with JJ. You could hear the shower running, the light poking from under the door along with soft music that told you that Sarah was likely inside. The bedroom door creeked quietly as you opened it. JJ’s figure was sitting in your floating egg chair, the one thing you’d asked for at the thrift shop. 
“Hi,” You greeted quietly. He immediately looked up, relief flooding his body at the sight of you as he got to his feet.
“I’m so sorry, I-”
You held your hand up, intercepting whatever he was going to say. “Jayj, I know you are. And I love you, but I really don’t want to talk about this right now. Okay?”
His hope deflated but he nodded regardless. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Um, Kie made salad. There’s leftovers in the fridge. I can… I can sleep on the couch if you want.”
You shook your head softly, giving him a small smile before wrapping your arms around his neck gently. “After today, there’s nothing more I want than to hold you and make sure you’re okay. So no, you’re sleeping here. Now come on, macho. Let’s clean up those cuts and get your ass to bed.” 
And then our luck turned, and the Outer Banks Sentinel wrote about us and our journey. They finally excavated the cave we blew up and suddenly, we’re heroes. It’s pretty weird, to be honest. After the ceremony, this old guy named Wes Genrette came up to us with a request. He invited us to his private estate to discuss his proposition. So, here we are. Eighteen months after finding El Dorado, on our way to Goat Island. Back in the G game, for what we hoped was the last time.
--
navigation -- series masterlist
a/n: and we're back!!! send ideas, send requests, and let the angst begin !!!!
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logaenhowlett · 3 months ago
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IF ONLY YOU KNEW - L.H.
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Summary: To keep up the ruse of Charles, Laura, you and him being nothing but an ordinary family, Logan shares a heartfelt memory he’s been hiding. [Set during Logan (2017)]
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Logan is hopelessly in love, Charles being a shithead (lovingly)
A/N: I could not get Old Man Logan outta my mind, so this transpired from all that. I initially wrote it from the reader's perspective, but I changed it to focus on Logan's thoughts and feelings. Enjoy!
MASTERLIST | PART TWO
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If looks could kill intentionally injure, then Charles would definitely have throbbing wounds all over his body. Logan shuts his eyes momentarily, attempting to calm his increasing blood pressure as listens to the old man enthusiastically accept the Munson family’s gracious invitation to dinner. He sighs, returning to the driver’s seat, avoiding the rear view mirror lest he catch Charles’ smug expression. 
The ride to the Munson house is uncharacteristically quiet. The initial shock from Charles introducing you as Logan's wife subsides, leaving him lost in thought by the idea of being seen as a family. No one speaks another word, figuring that he deserves a break from Charles and you rambling on about stories to entertain Laura. Watching him angrily clutch the steering wheel till his knuckles turn white seems to be enough of an incentive to not pile on to his already shitty day.
Logan slams the door as he gets out the car, clearly agitated by the detour on their way to North Dakota. No matter how wonderful a home-cooked meal sounds, he knows they’re just wasting time by lingering. But once he sees the desperate look on the three of your faces - particularly, yours, he relents, hoping trouble would spare them for a night.
The seven of you gather at the dinner table, Logan steals a quick glance at you while Nate says grace. Laura digs in immediately, picking the food apart with her fingers and stuffing it in her mouth. Logan clears his throat and gives her a pointed look, she flicks her eyes towards you and you give her an encouraging smile. 
“Where're you heading?” Mr Munson asks, looking between Logan and you.
“Oregon-”
“South Dakota-”
The two of you blurt at the same time, the Munsons pause in confusion. Your eyes widen at the sudden turn of events, a flash of panic settles on Logan’s expression before Charles intervenes.
“Oregon, then South Dakota.” He says, smiling as if nothing’s wrong.
Mrs Munson inquires him further, going off into a tangent about traveling. Logan leans back, watching Charles animatedly lie about some "vacation" plans. He stops himself from scoffing, meeting your gaze across the table. 
“James?” Mrs Munson's voice snaps him from his thoughts. He looks at her blankly having missed the first part of her question.
“It’s been 8 years,” You interject, nudging his foot underneath the table, silently warning him to pay attention. “We’ve been together for 8 years.”
Logan’s eyebrows twitch at your lie. He wishes you were together, that you would want him like that. Whatever hopes he had for a relationship with you shattered the moment reality set in his mind. You don't deserve someone like him, a broken old man who's struggling to keep himself going everyday. No. He wouldn't subject anyone, much less you, to an ill-fated man like him.
“Wow! That’s almost as long as our marriage,” Mrs Munson smiles at her husband, “You have any plans of proposing, James?” Her eyebrows are raised, it’s clear she noticed the lack of a ring on you.
“Kathryn.” Mr Munson chastises.
“What? It’s a natural thing to ask!”
Logan shifts in his seat, uncomfortable by the expectant eyes on him. He directs a tight smile at Kathryn, slowly nodding his head.
“Uh yeah… just waitin’ for the right time.” He says with a tone of finality, hoping she’ll drop the subject. She doesn’t.
“8 years certainly is a long while, don’t keep her wondering too long.” She winks at you.
Logan gives her a fake laugh, noting the subtle redness on your cheeks. 
“Oh! You two are adorable!” She exclaims, catching the flitting glances. “Tell me, how did you know she was the one?”
Logan takes a swig of his beer, Charles chuckles next to him and he uses all his willpower to not knock the stupid look off his face. He swallows the nervous feeling in his throat, resisting your intense gaze.
It had been hours, or something like that, since you left his side. Once you saw Storm's concerned expression, you immediately shot out of your seat, running to the medical wing of the mansion. Something must have happen to him on the mission.
Charles had sensed your distress as you made your way to the starkly-lit room. You always hated the medical wing, knowing there's no good reason why any of you would need to be here. The moment you saw Logan on the bed, you knew he had suffered enough to be unconscious. Charles kept reassuring you that he'd be alright in due time, that you just need wait for the regeneration power to kick in.
Storm kept checking on you every few hours, making sure you were taking care of yourself while you sat near Logan. She knew the both of you harboured feelings for each other in a way that was obvious to everyone except you two. She'd noted how Logan would always look for you anytime he entered a room, always made sure your favourite snacks were stocked up since the kids kept raiding the shelves, always made sure your gear was extra secure when you had to go on missions. Scott had caught on too but she secretly threatened him when he was about to tease Logan.
When Logan finally opened his eyes, he thought he was dreaming, shocked by the sight of you caring waiting for him. At that point, you had only known each other for less than a year, familiar enough to be considered friends. He didn't want to push you with flirty advances and realise you didn't reciprocate his feelings. That would've crushed him, so he settled with friendship and tried his hardest to bury his emotions around you.
His heart almost gave out when you smiled realising he was awake and he was going to be okay. And for a second, just a little second, a flicker of hope crossed his mind. But it went away when he saw Charles with the same expression. Of course, you were only there because you were worried about your friend. Nothing more.
Storm had advised him to rest for a couple days while his body recovered on its own. Pain was nothing but a sensation for him, after decades of going through utter destruction and slaughter, this was something he could drain out with minimal effort. You didn't leave his side at all. Even after he'd soothed your anxieties about his open wounds. But your response to that kept him up for days afterwards, 'I don't care if it's a paper cut or stubbing your toe somewhere, I don't like seeing people hurt. Especially you. I'm not leaving and I will be here for as long as it takes.'
It was that moment when all the chains restraining his desires let loose. His heart swelled with affection and he recognised that unmistakable emotion. Love. That stupid bastard. But he knew better than to taint your life with his scarred history.
You can’t seem to pull your eyes away from Logan as he finishes the story, keeping his focus on the plate in front of him, hating how silent the room became. Of course, he changed a few of the details to maintain the charade of being ordinary people, but the memory, itself, is something that often revolves in his mind.
Kathryn coos over his words, blown away by the sweet response. Satisfied, she turns her attention to Charles, excitedly asking about his time as a professor.
Logan avoids looking your reaction, even Laura seems taken by the memory - a tiny glimpse into their past. He coughs, ignoring the stabbing pain near his stomach. God, he hopes you won't call him out on this later. He doesn't know if he can keep this to himself any longer, especially since Kathryn had been commenting on your supposed "relationship" with each other.
The Munsons stand up to clear the table, Logan thanks them for the meal and nods his head at Charles, Laura and you, a signal to leave. Kathryn shoots down his intention of driving to a motel and insists on staying the night. Logan sees you stand up, trying to help his cause, but Charles declares you’ll leave the following morning - much to Logan’s annoyance. Your eyes follow Logan as he carries Charles upstairs, Laura right on his tail. Kathryn gives you a teasing glance snapping you out of your daze and you help her with the dishes.
Once Logan returns to the kitchen, Kathryn leads the two of you to the living room, “Here’s the couch, I'm sorry we don't have anything better.” The two of you thank her and she bids you good night, leaving Logan and you alone.
He groans, noting how the couch is hardly enough to support two people, much less someone as big as him. He certainly doesn't want to intrude on your personal space and wind up accidentally cuddling because of his subconscious impulses. Nope. That would definitely push you away.
“What’re you doing?” You ask.
“What’d you think?” He retorts, sinking into the armchair that barely fits him.
“Don’t be an idiot, your injuries are already bad, sleeping on that chair won’t do you any good.”
You stare at him across the dark room, when he makes no attempt to stand up, you sigh and lay back on the couch, turning away from him. A minute passes when you feel the cushion dip next to you, you don’t need to turn around to see the frustrated expression on his face.
The two of you lay down, backs towards each other. The only thing you can hear is the clock ticking in the next room. What Logan had said over dinner replays in your mind. You had been secretly pining over him for years and never showed your intentions, fearing rejection. So why do you suddenly have the urge to reveal your feelings?
“Did you mean it?” Your words pierce the silence and for a moment, you wonder if he’s even awake.
Of course I did. The answer leaves his mind as fast as it came. No one, over the last 8 years, ever came close to him as you did. But, he can’t tell you that, can he? Why would he want to put you through all the trouble that comes with him and his sorry life?
“Had to give ‘em something.” He mumbles, feeling his chest getting heavier.
“Oh. Yeah.. that was uh… I believed it.”
He hears you turn towards him and shuts his eyes, controlling the emotions bubbling inside him.
If only you knew.
PART TWO
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myladysapphire · 4 months ago
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Forbidden
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With a feud older than history, the Blackwoods and Brackens have long been enemies, but now, you, a daughter of lord Bracken, finds yourself in the arms of Benjicot Blackwood, and he will do everyhting it takes to make you his.
based of this request
word count: 3,893
cw: MDI, 18+, smut, dry humping, loss of virginity, p in v, fingering, making out, masturbation, violence, slight breeding kink, pregancy, not proofread!
Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader
dividers by @zaldritzosrose
Authors notes: a lot of ocs, alot of canon diveregence and based before the dance.
sorry this took so long to come out and so long for me to update in general! i wrote half of this and then decided to re do the whole thing entirely differently and then I got stuck and started writing two other things but here it is, enjoy!
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“You will not marry him” your fathers voice bellowed.
You had begged and pleaded and yet there was no resolve, your father was adamant in a match with the lord Jorah Mallister a man near twice your age. And not a match with the man you held dear to your heart.
Benjicot Blackwood.
You had met him near six summers ago. For six years you had been courting him in private, away from all eyes but each other’s.
It had been easy to fall in love with him, with someone as kind and well mannered as he. But that wasn’t what had drawn you to him.
At the time neither of you knew which house the other belonged too, nor cared. There seemed to be something unexplainable that drew you to one another.
You were like twin flames, so similar and yet you were your own unique force but together you burned brighter.
But this wasn’t something your lord father could understand.
The feud between Blackwood and Bracken had spanned through time and was a never-ending factor. They would always despise one another, the true reason why lost to time and only fuel was added to the fire with each generation.
If the Blackwood’s stood on one side, you can guarantee the Brackens stood on the other.
The sides of their conflict varied, no one knowing the truth, neither history book nor legend.
With both houses being old and ancient, with blood of the first men running though their veins. Both claimed to be kings, the Blackwood’s claiming to have been kings of the wolfs wood before being driven south. And the Brackens had been kings of the Riverlands.
There it is said the Blackwood’s usurped the Bracken lands, where the Blackwood’s claimed the Brackens were petty lords and sells words hired to usurp them.
And though there had been a hundred peace’s between the families over the millennia, with every blackwood comes Bracken blood, and ever bracken comes blackwood blood. But no peace lasted long enough, and each peace ended with a larger wound than before.
When it comes between the two it is often a case of, he said or she said, no one wishes to get involved and no one knows the truth, and no matter the efforts of their overlord of kings, no truce lasted.
And all because of this, a feud neither of you wished to take part in, you were torn apart.
A marriage set between you and an old lord, and the turning of a key locking you in your rooms, separating you from him.
Your father thought it was some infatuation, when in fact it was everything.
You had met as children, playing on the border between your lands. He had tripped and fell over the border stones and you, with your friends having long run off at the sight of a blackwood came to aid him.
Tending to the small cut on his head, you teased him mercilessly, claiming he must be the best knight the Blackwood’s had if he would so easily cross the border as he did.
Andin truth that was how it all started, childish teasing, and the small gesture of caring for his small cut.
With days spent meeting at the border, playing as children did, you forged a bond. A bond that only strengthen as you were sent to ward with your mother’s family over.
With two summers spent together, the third apart it was clear much had changed when you went to meet at the border once more.
You had become a woman and he a man, and suddenly the childish games got lost and suddenly bashful smiles were exchanged in the place of teasing.
“How are you?” he has asked, having spent he summer with no word, unable to send each other letters, with fear of being caught and your friendship ending.
It was clear much had changed, your faces had lost the baby fat, he was now a head taller than you, whereas before you had towered over him. Your clothes had become that of a lady, no longer where your dressed hemmed to your ankles, your tunics and trousers thrown out in favour of gowns and jewels.
Your hair had grown long, and now adorned with jewels and accessories alike.
You looked everything of the lady you were expected to be and more. You had grown into your features, and he was struck by you.
It was almost like you were strangers again, with you blushing as you towards him and he unsure of how to act towards you know.
Stuttering your words, as you recounted your year, blushing as you told him of your kiss with one of the stable hands. How you had helped your aunt give birth, and how you had felt lonely without him, even though you only got to see him for a few hours every few days.
He had recounted his summer, how he had become a squire and his father had started giving him duties, fit for the future lord of Raventree.
The awkwardness left you both as the day passed and the sun set, you both left with a new view of the other. A year apart changing you from childhood friends to newfound crushes.
Neither of you cared that you were from rivalling families, the skirmishes between your cousins and his cousins and even him, never affecting you bar a small argument here and there.
As time passed and you both grew older you found most of your days spent with the other, and soon the friendly hand holding was exchanged for soft kisses and wandering hands.
If you were from any other house a marriage would have been easy, but neither of your fathers accepted the other, and as tensions grew and grew you lost any hope for a future with Ben.
You had kept your friendship, your companionship a secret, a well-kept secret no one not even your closest friends knew off.
Until two days ago.
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The news of a betrothal had spurred you; you had run to the border to find Ben and beg him to run away.
But instead of Ben you found your oldest brother Amos, and a man you briefly recognised to be Bryden blackwood, a cousin to Ben. They seemed to be in some argument, over the boundary stones. Luckily no swords had been drawn yet.
You approached your brother cautiously.
“Amos” you started, nodding to the bracken men that stood with him.
“Sister…what are you doing her?” he asked, moving away from Bryden’s glare.
“I could ask you the same, aren’t you meant to patrol the border not step over it?” “I knew you changed the boarder stones!”
“I did not, my sister does not know what she speaks, she rarely comes here!”
“Rarely swear I’ve seen you before” he stepped closer to you, your brother slowly stood to stand in front of you. “Yes…I know you, you’re that girl my cousins spends his days with! hah a Bracken bitch”.
“What does he speak of!” your brother demanded.
“Nothing, I don’t know- “
Ben walked over, a laugh set on his face and hand on his sword, ready to fight if needed. “What is going on here?” he said, facing falling as he saw you.
Bryden turned to face him, “We were simply observing the border stones before your bitch came along”.
“What did you call her?” both Ben and Amos questioned, tone stern and glares set on Bryden.
“a Bracken Bitch” he punctuated each word, stepping closer to Amos, only to be dragged away by Ben and a punch landing swiftly on his face.
Ben’s fists pounded Bryden’s face, blood spattering as groans left Bryden’s lips, ben only stopped as his uncle, Wilheim came running up and pulled him away.
“What is going on here!”
“Your nephew insulted my sister” Amos spoke, his hand reaching for his sword.
“And why is Benjicot bloody blackwood taking it out on him?” he near screamed.
You looked tot eh floor, to scared to speak.
“He called her my Bracken…my Bracken bitch” Ben spoke, his eyes glued to your form as you nervously kicked at the border stones.
Wilheim gave Ben and exasperate look, “is its true boy?”
You looked up, feeling all eyes on yours.
“yes” he said, his face downcast in shame. Not shame for being with you, for the moments you shared or the love he felt but for the way it was revealed, for how you had been spoken off and the laughs that irrupted at the news.
Wilheim pulled him closer, “is she still?” everyone knew what he was asking, no matter how discrete he tried to be.
You knew the answer, and you knew no matter what came out of Bens mouth your brother would be forced to tell your father and your father would demand the maester check your maidenhead, something he wouldn’t find.
As you waited for Ben to answer your mind went back to six moons ago.
Your mind went back to six moons ago.
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It was your nameday, you had escaped the celebrations and made your way to the border, where ben awaited gift in hand.
“Happy name day” he greeted, pulling you in for a hug, his face buried in your neck.
“Thank you” you breathed, your touches lingering as you pulled apart, his face close too yours.
Your eyes were locked to his, as you hesitated to step away.
“My gift?” you asked, as you stepped back ever so slightly, noticing the lingering gaze on your lips.
He smiled shyly, before presenting you the gift.
The gift, a book you had long desired. You had been unable to find it anywhere and yet, Ben had found it just for you.
“Ben” you breathed, at a loss for words as you started up at him, a shy smile on his face. “Thank you”, you said taking a step towards him once more, your body’s now impossible close.
“It was no problem” he breathed, your faces breaths apart.
A blush filled your cheeks as you leant forward your lips catching his in a soft slow kiss.
Your mouths moved in tandem, slow and soft as his hands came up to grip your waist, pulling you into him as your kiss became sloppier, his tongue teasing its way into your mouth as your hands came up to grip his hair, your lips never breaking.
Had you not been where anyone could find you, you where sure the kiss would never end, but the fear of being caught, your reputation ruined spurned you to push yourself away from him.
“we should go somewhere more private” you breathed, “out of prying eyes” “won’t they notice if your gone much longer?” “I doubt it, I said the wine had gone to my head and my maid, Farrah was more than happy to vouch the same, and that I wish to be left alone after I gave her 10 silver dragons.”
He laughed, “there is an inn nearby, perhaps we could go there?”
“An inn?” you asked a small smile on your face.
He nodded, “I know you may not wish to spend your nameday in an inn- “ “I wish to spend it with you” you interrupted, “I do not care where”.
And so, you had gone to the inn, it was barren when you got in, not many traveling to kings’ road so near winter, a room was easy to find and for the first time you were truly away from prying eyes.
The room was quaint, at least compared to what you were used too, with a double bed in the centre of the room, a small tub and chamber pot on one side and a dresser and table on the other.
“Will anyone question if you are gone long?” you asked, taking off your cloak.
You knew he most likely wouldn’t, having more freedom than you as a man and heir.
“Perhaps, but as long as I ma back by dawn I doubt I will get in any trouble.”
You nodded, “you leave often in the night then?” you teased, a smirk playing on your lips.
He coughed awkwardly, “my uncle and my cousins, Bryden, Davos and Bennifer took me to a brothel for my nameday”.
“a Brothel?” you asked in surprise, though there was a hint in jealousy in your voice, “and did you?
“No!” he said quickly, “no I wouldn’t do that” to you, he wanted to say, but up until today you hadn’t done anything, bar hold hands and lingering touches here and there.
You smiled, standing up and walking up to him, he seemed frozen, unsure of what to do or what his intentions were of even bringing you here.
You moved cautiously, your hand reaching for his as you moved yourself into his embrace.
Your fingers interlocking with his, “ben” you whispered.
And he whispered your name back, smiling as he did.
“I love you” you spoke, no hesitation in your voice.
“I love you” he breathed back, his face full of uninhibited joy.
Your lips captured his once more, this time it was full of passion, your lips moving together in tandem, his hands moving to your waist and pulling you effortlessly closer to him.
With one hand still interlocked with his, the other reached up and gripped his hair pulling him even closer to you.
Your mouths never broke apart, even as a soft moan left your lips as his tongue moved with yours.
 You started to step back slowly, dragging him with you until your back hit the bed, Bens body covering yours, his hips slowly began to grind against yours, feeling his clothed cock through his breeches as he grinded against your heat.
You moaned softly into his mouth as your body’s moved together.
“Ben” you groaned, as his lips separated from yours and moved to your neck, pressing quick sloppy kisses before leaning over you his eyes staring into yours.
He whispered your name, “do you want to keep going?”
You nodded, leaning up to reach for the laces of your gown, you never broke eye contact as you untied your dress, allowing it to fall slightly and reveal our thin chemise.
He blushed at the sight, leaning back and allowing you to fully remove your dress, before you reached for him and started to undo the ties of his tunic and breaches.
You moved slowly, taking him in as you undid his clothes, your touches lingering as you finally revealed his naked chest.
Now only in your small clothes, he reached over you once more, his body covering yours and his lips once again capturing yours.
Your bodies continued to move against each other the friction casing moans and groans to fall from his lips and yours.
Your chemise bunching up at your waist, revealing your wet cunt to Ben.
“gods” he said, feeling your bare cunt rub against his length, “his hands moved from where he had placed them at your waist to move along your thighs.
He swallowed slightly as your legs began to part, baring yourself to him.
“Do you ever touch yourself?” he asked, his fingers moved closer to your heat.
“yes” you breathed as he lightly teased your folds.
“Show me”
You breathe grew heavy, as you nervously moved your fingers down the length of your body.
Ben moved back from you as your finger dipped into your folds, gathering up your silk.
Circling your clit is slow motions, you never broke eye contact, soft moans leaving your mouth.
With one fingering circling your clit you began to dip another into your folds, circling and teasing yourself before finally plunging a finger into your hole.
You let out a moan as you did, slowly pumping your finger in and out of you.
“Gods, your beautiful,” Ben said, his hand coming to meet yours as he swiftly replaced your fingers, plunging two fingers into your hole.
You let out a high-pitched moan. The feel of his fingers was nothing compared to yours, the pleasure entirely different, even more so when his thumb came to circle your clit.
“Like this?” he asked, his movements unsure as he watched you and took in every moan or whimper you made.
“Yes! Gods yes” you said, feeling your peak wash over you as his fingers moved faster in and out of you.
You breathed heavily, sinking into the mattress as you rode out your peak.
“Good?” he asked, reaching forward to press a soft kiss to your mouth.
“yes” you said, before sitting up and reaching for the bottom of your chemise.
“Are you sure?” he asked, as you began to take of the last layer of clothing.
You smiled, nodding your head, and revealing yourself to him.
He moaned at the sight of you, getting impossible hard as he took you in.
He stood of the bed slowly, moving to take of his final layer and bare himself to you.
You groaned at the sight, “come here” you breathed.
He slowly crawled back onto the bed, his body covering yours once more as he took your lips in a passionate and heated kiss, his legs slowly parted yours as he positioned himself at your entrance.
“Are you sure?” he asked softly, moving to caress your face.
Nodding, you reached up to kiss him, “yes”.
And with that he slowly entered you.
Groaning at the stretch, you felt a slight sting as he slowly entered you, your face contorted in quick discomfort that quickly faded as he settled himself fully inside you, allowing you time to adjust.
He seemed lost tin pleasure at the feeling of your heat wrapped around his length, his face buried in the nape of your neck as he held back from moving.
“You can move” you breathed after a minute, hands wrapping around his neck as you moved your hips to urge him.
He moved slowly, pumping in and out of you, learning every move that made you moan or whimper.
He kissed slowly at your neck as his hips pumped in and out of you, his groans muffled by your neck as he began to pump faster and harder.
Your moans grew more frequent, your hand reaching down to rub at your clit as you felt the familiar feel of your peak hitting you once more, it was fast but no less pleasurable as you and he reached your peak simultaneously.
He swiftly removed himself and finished on your stomach, as your fingers continued to circle your clit, as you rode out your peak.
“gods” you laughed, after a few minutes, ben having gone to get a cloth to clean you up. “I hadn’t expected this for my nameday” you said reaching for him and pulling him into for a kiss once more.
You spent the night wrapped in his embrace, dawn coming faster than you had hoped and you were soon sneaking back into your rooms.
As the moons passed your meetings became ones of lovers, with romantic rendezvous with disguises as you went to Fairmarket parading as smallfolk away from prying eyes.
Your nights spent in each other’s embrace, whether it was in the inn or under the stary sky.
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Now six moons later, you did not regret that night or the nights that followed, but the look of disappointment your brother gave you made you wish a part of you desired to take it back.  
“no” Benji spoke, answering his uncle’s question of your maidenhead.
“You will marry” he spoke, your father will approve it and I’m sure we could do with peace with our too sides, with the talk of war and all”.
But your father had instantly refused, saying he would rather a whore for a daughter than a blackwood.
You had been locked in your room for three moons, wedding arrangements made for you a lord Mallister.
You had been unable to escape to leave and see Ben, your every move watched and monitored. Though you had heard he had demanded to see you, begging for your hand and even challenging lord Mallister to a duel.
All had been refused and you were starting to lose all hope of ever seeing him again.
Then there was a tap at your window.
“Ben!” you whisper shouted, seeing him hanging onto the wall for dear life as you opened the window to let him in.
“How did you- “you began to ask only to be cut of with a demanding kiss as Bens lips attacked yours.
“I have missed you” he breathed as you pushed you down onto the bed and began to untie his breeches. “My father agrees we should wed.” he started, kissing you again, as he began to bunch up your skirts, revealing your heat to him. “He says the only way your father would accept us to marry his if you were pregnant” he breathed, his breaches now around his ancles as his finger began to tease your hole.
“Pregnant?” you questioned, “he said he’d rather me a whore than a blackwood” you said, moaning as he began to pump in fingers in and out of your entrance.
“Your father is also a devout man of the faith, is he not” he said, fingers pumping in and out of you.
“yes” you moaned, “and you and your family are followers of the old gods…he would never- “you cut yourself off with a moan as his cock replaced his fingers, plunging in and out of you at fast pace.
“And yet he said to my father that if a babe came, he would allow it…and yet he kept you from me, from any chance of us” he groaned, leaning down to kiss you as he felt your walls clench around his cock as you came.
“I am going to fuck a baby into you, going to fill you up with my seed” he groaned, “I will come, climb the walls of your castle every night until you a bred and then we shall get married and you will me mine, not that cunt Mallister!” his tone was harsh, but as his eyes bore into yours you saw the longing, the love and sense of purpose as he fucked you like he had never fucked you before.
It was primal, pure animalistic as he fucked his seed into you.
He lay on top of you, his cock still in you as you both caught your breath.
That night he took you in more ways than you could count, and in the breath moments his cock wasn’t filling you he recounted his days apart from you.
But as dawn broke, he was forced to leave, just like every other night you shred in each other’s arms.
But he fulfilled his promise visiting you every night until your moons blood stopped, and a pregnancy was confirmed.
Your father was furious, hated how you had defied him, found away to see Ben once more, and now he was forced to marry you.
With a slight swollen belly, it was no secret of why the Brackens and Blackwood’s once again decided to try at peace, even more so when Ben could hardly wait for the bedding ceremony to take you as his wife.
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theemporium · 4 months ago
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[22k] in attempt to bridge the decades old rivalry between the two gangs, a marriage of alliance is proposed between the new jersey devils and the new york rangers. the last thing you expected was to find yourself offered on a silver platter to your enemies. and you certainly didn't expect your future husband to be the likes of the devils leader himself, nico hischier.
new jersey mob masterlist || nhl mob masterlist
warning: this is a mob au. topics and themes such as violence, blood, murder and gun use are prevalent and constant throughout the fic. please keep that in mind if you choose to proceed with this fic and the whole series.
read part two here
.
“You know I would never question your authority—”
“It sounds like you’re about to question it.” 
“Are you really sure this is a good idea?” 
The footsteps echoing through the long corridor came to an abrupt stop as Nico stopped walking. The second set stopped shortly after, and he turned to find his second-in-command already looking at him with a mixed expression. It made him sigh, pushing back the meeting they were currently walking to to the back of his mind as he turned to his closest friend and confidante. 
The same man he had chosen to stand beside him in this lifestyle of theirs without a moment of hesitation because he knew no one would have his back the way Jesper Bratt did.
“Would there even be a point if I said no? It’s not like we can back out now,” Nico pointed out, and he watched Jesper’s shoulders slump a little like he was expecting that answer.
Jesper gritted his teeth. “I just don’t understand why you are doing this.”
“It’s for an alliance, Jesper, we’ve been over this,” Nico said, and despite himself, his eyes softened a little when he noted the hint of concern in his second-in-command‘s face. “We have too many enemies for our own good. We need to have people we can trust.” 
His eyes narrowed. “And you think you can trust them?”
“Just as much as they can trust us,” Nico replied, though the response sounded way too rehearsed and planned, even to his own ears. “We need this as much as they do.” 
“We have plenty of enemies you could have negotiated an alliance with,” Jesper pointed out. “We could have strengthened the bond with Philadelphia. Or even the Sabres. Hell, Nico, you could have even tried to fix things with the Panthers down south. Why in loving fuck would you pick the Rangers?”
Nico remained silent.
“Because you want something from them,” Jesper murmured, realisation clicking into place as he carefully noted Nico’s expression. “Or someone.” 
“I am doing it for the sake of the gang,” Nico answered simply.
A slow smile spread across Jesper’s face. “Us, huh?” 
“Shut up.” 
“You know, as your second-in-command, surely I deserve to know what your game plan is.” 
“My game plan is to get to this meeting and sign the papers to start a new era of alliance with the New York Rangers,” Nico stated, his voice simple and blunt, but Jesper knew better. “That is all.” 
“Nothing else?”
“Nothing else.” 
“Hm, sure.” 
Nico shot the boy a look over his shoulder, but Jesper just grinned in response.
“I should’ve brought Palat with me instead,” he grumbled under his breath, lips twitching upwards when he heard Jesper let out a noise of disagreement. “C’mon, don’t wanna be late.” 
“Please, we are already thirty minutes early.” 
“Walk faster.”
“Stop making that face.” 
Silence.
“You look prettier when you smile.”
Silence. 
“Rogue, baby, come on. Don’t be like that—” 
Your hand snapped out, your fingers wrapped around his wrist and halting his actions before he could even reach out to touch you. You turned your head to look at him for the first time since you left the house back in New York, your glare icy and cold. 
“Don’t try to fucking touch me again.” 
Jacob Trouba stared back at you, his face remaining impressively blank but you noted the small twitch in his jaw. It wasn’t often someone talked back to the boss of the New York Rangers and didn’t face some consequence, but you guessed you were getting a pass due to current circumstances. 
“Play nice,” he said eventually as he leaned back against his chair. You sat in the seat next to him to his right, with two men settled behind. Jacob had said they didn’t need any more men in the room, but you knew well enough that he would have some of his men crawling within a block radius of the building. “And try not to be too difficult.” 
“You picked the wrong woman then,” you retorted, your whole body feeling stiff and on edge as you glanced over at the clock above the door. Two more minutes before the meeting was set to begin. “There’s still time to change. There’s always—”
“Not happening.” 
You gritted your teeth together. 
“Smile.” 
“Don’t fucking test me right now.” 
You heard one of the boys choking on a laugh, quickly trying to cover it up with a laugh. You didn’t need to turn your head to know that Jacob was probably glaring at them. 
You couldn’t even find it within yourself to smile at the interaction. 
When Jacob had called you into his office two weeks ago, you honestly thought he was joking. He had told you about the offer the Devils had offered, a few other members of his inner circle in the room as the lot of you discussed it. Most of you mocked it, talked about how it was a fucking joke that such a deep, historical rivalry was meant to be fixed with one marriage. Jacob himself had made a few teasing comments during the whole thing. 
Then, a week later he told you he was actually contemplating it. 
And then, just this morning, he gave you next to no warning that it would be you heading across the river to marry one of the Devils boys. 
Your reaction was as one expected when they were told they were practically being sold off for the sake of an alliance—you were fucking pissed. You laughed it off but when he didn’t join, you felt an unexplainable rage bubble inside you.
You knew how this world worked. You knew the reality and the politics of mob life. You knew nothing but mob life. And you knew very well the way women were seen in the eyes of the mob, the way they were seen as objects more so than humans. You had seen friends close to you be shipped across the country for the sake of alliance arranged marriages. 
But never once did you think it would be you.
Never once did you think Jacob would pull this shit on you. 
And for an alliance with the Devils, of all fucking people.
You weren’t the kind of girl that mob men liked. You weren’t quiet or compliant or a pushover. You weren’t the kind of girl they liked to have on their arm to show off. You weren’t the kind of girl to be a mob wife, full stop. 
Jacob knew this. He knew it better than anyone. It was the main fucking reason you were close to him, that you had his respect, that you were one of the few people in his inner circle that he trusted beyond belief.
And he had thrown it back in your face. 
You hadn’t spoken to him after your initial outburst. Once your throat was raw and your hands were shaking with rage, you had turned on your heel and walked out the room. He had tried to speak to you, quite a few of the boys did. But you remained silent for the whole ride over, for the hours that passed, for the whole day until a few minutes ago. 
“You are being fucking ridiculous right now.” 
A muscle in your jaw twitched, an overbearing urge to turn in your seat and spit out every thought you had bubbling in your mind since this morning, but your attention was quickly diverted by the sound of the door opening. 
You had encountered many of the Devils before, though not many of their faces were familiar and recognisable. It was good to know one’s enemy, to know the strongest and weakest points of their group. You had studied them far more than you cared to admit, probably more so than needed over the years. 
However, years of meetings and unfortunate accounts meant you recognised the faces that walked through the door, but the last person still took you by surprise. You knew he would be here, you expected as much. 
But never once had you met Nico Hischier in the flesh. 
His reputation preceded him. You had heard a lot about the man, most of it surrounding the young age he stepped into power for the Devils. You knew what the other organisations thought about him, the whispers and rumours that travelled outside of New York where the hatred and rivalry wasn’t so prominent. 
He was seen to be…fair. 
You didn’t think it was necessarily possible to be considered fair in the life you all were in.
“Hischier.” 
You watched the man stop at the other side of the table, making a point of dragging the chair out and settling down comfortably. He waited a few moments as his men stood behind him in formation, and only after they were comfortable, did he speak.
“Trouba.” 
You could only imagine how much he was seething. A small part of you enjoyed it, even if you didn’t turn to watch his expression closely. 
“I assume you still agree to the terms of our deal.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement that laid heavy in the air between the two men.
“As long as nothing has changed on your side.”
Jacob’s lips twitched. “Now, Nico, what kind of man would you take me for? This is about an alliance.” 
Nico raised his brows a little. “To the start of a new beginning.” 
Jacob’s eyes shifted away from the man he had called his mortal enemy for years now, and instead shifted to you. “Your boys will like her.”
Your jaw clenched. 
“A wife isn’t meant to be shared,” Nico retorted, though there was a hint of something in his voice you couldn’t establish. “Though, I am not sure how things are run in New York.”
Jacob laughed, but it wasn’t one of amusement like the room pretended it was. “Of course not. I am sure—”
“Do I get to know who I’m marrying now?” You spoke up, watching as every pair of eyes in the room turned to you. They were heavy and judging and focused, but your expression remained impassive. “Or am I expected to just sign a paper and be done with it?” 
Nico’s eyes fell onto you, something swirling in them that felt strong and captivating and almost made you want to lean a little closer to read whatever was written in them. He tilted his head, almost like he was inquiring your words before he spoke.
“You’ll be my wife.” 
You froze, blinking. 
Understanding washed over Nico’s expression. “You didn’t know.”
“No,” you gritted out, your nails digging into your palm as that bubbling rage from earlier returned. “I did not.” 
Nico’s eyes shifted to Jacob, and you resisted the urge to do the same.
“I didn’t see it necessary information to share,” was all Jacob responded with. 
You bit your tongue.
“Hm,” Nico hummed, seeming to have a lot more to say but resisting the urge to do so. His eyes lingered on Jacob for a few moments, analysing and observing before his gaze settled on you again. “Are you returning to New Jersey with us, or do you wish to return to New York to collect your things?” 
You opened your mouth but Jacob bet you to it.
“She will go with you once the marriage is official.” 
Nico didn’t take his eyes off you. “I wasn’t asking you, Trouba.” 
You heard someone cough behind you, but you found yourself staring right back at Nico.
He raised his brows in question. 
And you could feel Jacob’s eyes boring into your side. 
And maybe it was petty or maybe it was fuelled by the lingering anger you had towards the man, but you kept your eyes on Nico as you spoke. 
“Might as well get used to New Jersey as soon as I can, no?” You stated simply, but you could have sworn he almost looked pleased with your response before his eyes returned to Jacob. 
“Then it’s settled,” he said as he pushed himself off his chair, the two men behind him quickly taking a step closer as if on instinct. “We’ll be sure to send you a wedding invitation.”
You thought you had an idea what it would be like to live with the New Jersey Devils, truthfully because you didn’t assume it would be all that different to life with the Rangers. You weren’t naive enough to think both organisations were run the exact same way, but you assumed there would be a lot more similarities than there actually were.
The first thing that caught you by surprise was the way they talked. 
You hadn’t spoken a word as you left the room, not taking Nico’s offer to say your goodbyes to the Rangers you had come with. The last thing you needed to hear was an earful from Jacob for not following his orders, or his plan (the one he conveniently kept to himself and expected everyone to simply know). You followed Nico out the door, trying not to feel so on edge about having the two other Devils flanking you from behind.
When you reached the car, it wasn’t too much of a surprise that Nico reached to open your door. Most men were raised to act like gentlemen in this life, even if they were far from it. He waited until you were settled in the seat behind the passenger’s seat, seatbelt clicked in place before he closed the door.
You were somewhat surprised to find him round the car and settle on the other side of the backseat, and not sit in the front. You tried not to stare at him too much. 
You expected the drive back to be similar to the journey you had with Trouba this morning. It almost startled you the way the three of them instantly broke out into conversation. 
It wasn’t anything damning or secretive, but it still felt wrong to listen in. It felt wrong for them to talk in front of you. It felt like a culture shock, being in a car and not having the people inside the vehicle with you being overly paranoid at the car being tapped. It felt weird that they didn’t even hesitate, didn’t even wait until the dark haired man (the vague memory of his name on the tip of your tongue) in the front had turned the key in the ignition. 
“I get to choose the music since I rode shotgun!” The blond in the passenger seat blurted out before the car had even reversed out of its space.
“Fuck off, you like my music!” Nico snapped back.
“Sure, Boss, sure.” 
You blinked. 
The fact they spoke was one thing, but you certainly didn’t expect them to talk to each other like that. The fact they spoke to Nico—their boss—like that. It was far from what you were expecting. 
“Back me up, Siegs,” the blond tried again but the man in the driver’s seat just snorted. 
“I don’t care, Jesper,” Jonas replied, though there was a smile on his face.
Jesper let out a huff. “You are so fake in front of him, I know you hate it.” 
Jonas only shrugged in response, which made Nico’s smile widen a little.
You tried not to gape at the three of them, but it was a little difficult. It wasn’t like you expected to be treated like an outcast—although, maybe you did—but you certainly weren’t expecting them to seem so…relaxed around you. 
The silence that usually filled the Rangers car was nowhere to be seen. The underlying tension between the boss and his men was non-existent. It almost felt like you were sitting in a car full of friends. Maybe even a family.
It was a little disconcerting. 
The second thing that caught your attention amongst everything else was the way they treated you.
You knew the expectations of a mob wife. You knew that arranged marriages, like yours and Nico’s, had been happening for decades now. You had seen many play out with your own eyes back with the Rangers, saw what was expected of these women who were thrown into new homes and lives for the sake of alliances, money and more. 
It wasn’t a surprise when Nico led you through the house, guiding you upstairs with a hand placed in the dip of your back. The shock came when he stopped suddenly outside a door, turning to you with an expectant look. 
“This is your room. I thought you would want to rest for tonight, maybe have some time to yourself,” Nico explained, polite and curt, like a true gentleman. “I can have some dinner sent up to you. And my office is just down the hall. Feel free to knock if you need anything.” 
You stared at him with a confused expression. 
Nico’s brows furrowed a little in response. “Sorry, is that okay? You look…lost.”
“You said your room,” you said, though the boy still looked a bit confused. “Instead of ours.”
“Oh,” Nico nodded, realisation dawning over his expression before he gave you a polite smile. “My room is the next one over.” 
Your eyes narrowed in suspicion. “We aren’t sharing a room?”
“We aren’t married,” he stated simply.
“Do you expect us to share a room after we are married?” You asked.
His expression remained impassive and unreadable. “If you wish so.” 
There was a small voice in the back of your head telling you he was being genuine, and yet, somehow, that only made your confusion grow. 
“Goodnight, Rogue,” was all Nico said before he headed down the hall, leaving you lost in your own thoughts and suspicions and mixed emotions.
You thought there was nothing less that the New Jersey Devils could do to catch you by surprise. And you were very wrong about that.
You had hardly slept the night before. There was something unsettling being away from the place you had called home your whole life. There was something even more unsettling knowing you were in enemy territory—even if you couldn’t really call it that anymore. There was just something unsettling about lying in a bed, knowing that you didn’t know a single soul beyond the door. 
And after tossing and turning, you had mostly given up by the time someone knocked on your door just after nine in the morning. 
You had almost expected that yesterday was the last you would see of Nico before he rushed off, hiding away in his office or meetings or whatever other excuses he could make to avoid you. You certainly weren’t expecting to find him on the other side of your door, a polite smile on his face once again.
“Good morning,” he greeted you, his hands tucked behind his back. The sun had barely been in the sky for a few hours and the man was dressed immaculately in a shirt and suit pants, looking far too put together. “Sleep well?” 
“Yes,” you lied, because it wasn’t exactly like you wanted to get into the details with your soon-to-be husband. “Can I help you?”
“Oh yes,” he cleared his throat a little, taking a step back and only then did you realise he wasn’t alone. The boy beside him was taller, a little skinnier too. With curly hair and a baby face, you would guess he was at least a couple of years younger than Nico. “This is Luke.” 
You glanced over the boy before your gaze returned to Nico. “Is he my babysitter?” 
Nico’s lips twitched upwards. “I was going to say bodyguard.”
“Semantics.” 
Luke cleared his throat a little, ducking his head down but not fast enough for you not to see the small smirk playing on his lips.
Nico straightened his spine before he spoke, his expression impassive again. “He can help you with whatever you need. And if he can’t, then he knows someone who can.”
“Let me guess,” you started, leaning against the door as you surveyed the older man with a knowing look. “He’s under strict orders to make sure I don’t run off?”
Nico’s brows furrowed together. “Of course not. If you wish to go out somewhere, Luke will accompany you.”
You could only blink in response. You felt as though you had been doing that a lot lately.
“Oh.” 
You didn’t remember what else Nico had said before he ran off, muttering something about a meeting and someone called Jack—the name familiar once again—blowing up his phone. Truthfully, you weren’t sure if it mattered. Everything in the last twenty-fours had thrown your life upside down, you didn’t think you could handle much more.
And then Luke turned to you with a shit-eating grin on his face and said, “wanna go get McDonald’s breakfast?” 
You had come to realise that despite his baby face and slight cartoonish laugh, Luke wasn’t as bad as you expected him to be.
Back in New York with the Rangers, you had crossed paths with your fair share of young and ambitious members. They were dedicated and strong-willed and determined to do anything to prove themselves to the cause, to prove themselves to their boss. They were willing to be ruthless, merciless and cold-hearted. 
New Jersey was very different. 
There was a strong lack of fear in the air, replaced with something more akin to encouragement. The boys here didn’t fear to make mistakes as badly as you had seen in the Rangers. They followed the rules and did what they were told because they wanted to, because they wanted to thrive. Not because they were scared of what would happen to them otherwise.
Truthfully, you didn’t know how you felt about it.
“Every week?”
“Every week,” Luke confirmed with a nod.
“Without fail?”
“Mhm,” he nodded once again.
“Everyone?”
“Usually,” Luke answered, pausing for a moment before he shrugged. “Unless someone has something else on. But nobody actively goes out of their way to miss it. Candy would kill them.”
You paused for a moment, your brows furrowed together as you tried to put a face to the name, only to come short. In your defence, though it had been close to a week since you arrived, most of your time had been spent with Luke. You would see people here and there, wandering around the house or passing by, and Luke would always try to inform you on who they were as best he could. But there were so many new names and new faces and new…everything to get used to.
You still felt like an outsider wandering the halls. 
You still felt pretty pissed that Trouba, or any of the Rangers back home for that matter, hadn’t tried reaching out to you.
You still felt very fucking confused on the fact you had yet to see Nico since the day he brought you to Jersey. It seemed as though he was hiding away to avoid you after all. 
“You’ll know her when you see her,” Luke informed you, seeming to pick up on the confusion on your face. “She’s the loud one in colourful clothes who has a guy resembling a lovesick puppy following her around.”
You raised your brows in question.
“Long story,” Luke snorted. “But where Candy goes, John follows.”
You nodded. “And John is…”
“Tall guy, dark curly hair, always silently brooding and judging people,” Luke listed off like it would help. “He kinda looks at you like he wants to kill you.” 
You let out a huff of amusement. “You sure he doesn’t just do that to you?”
Luke paused, almost as though he was having a revelation. 
Your lips twitched upwards. And then, because apparently you couldn’t keep a nice thing going, you found yourself asking, “are you even supposed to be telling me all this?”
He frowned. “What? That John is kinda emotionally constipated?” 
“I—” You paused, your nose scrunching up a little. “What? No. Just about everyone in general.”
Luke stared at you. “Why wouldn’t I tell you?”
“Information,” you replied with a shrug of your shoulders. 
“Anyone with two working eyes could see half the shit I tell you,” Luke retorted with a snort. “It’s hardly confidential information when I tell you what a pain in the ass Jack is. Or that Dawson goes through three bottles of shampoo in a month. Or that—”
“That you are scared of spiders?” You interrupted, something close to a teasing smile on your lips as you watched the boy scoff.
“I’m not!” He insisted. “That spider just caught me by surprise.”
“You screamed.”
“I wasn’t expecting to see it.” 
And even if you never said it to Luke, it was weird he was being so open with you about the members of the New Jersey Devils. Every piece of information—no matter how small or insignificant—could be used against you. It was a life motto, one ingrained into you when you grew up as a Ranger. It felt like a basic life rule everyone followed. 
At least, it did back in New York. 
In New Jersey, it seemed like the second you stepped foot onto their premise, they saw you as one of their own. And once you were one of their own, there were no secrets between you. Everyone knew everything about everyone—or at least, a general understanding. No one was shying away from each other, from you. 
You didn’t know how you felt about it, but it did make your heart pine for something familiar. For something that felt like home. 
And New Jersey would never be that. 
To your utter surprise, the next time you saw Nico was that following Sunday.
You weren’t naive to think he would be glued to your side, that much was confirmed when he ordered Luke to be your round-the-clock bodyguard. He wanted to keep an eye on you, he just didn’t want to be the person to do it. You were somewhat surprised he didn’t send one of the bigger guys—like Kevin or Kurtis—to be your bodyguard, someone to intimidate you. Though, you assumed he was probably saving them for more important jobs than a glorified babysitter. 
Your days had been blurring into one, and though you hadn’t spent much time in Jersey, it had felt like a lifetime.
Your life was stuck in routine and you had gotten pretty used to it by that point. 
Luke would be at your door by eight sharp, ready to get the day started. You would share every meal with him, though it varied whether you both bothered in the kitchen or went somewhere out to eat—Luke had been enjoying showing you various places around the city. But that was about as exciting as your days got. You might bump into some others, talk to them, get to know them.
But your days were boring, pointless and repetitive. 
The only slight change to your routine was Sunday. The unspoken but very relevant rule of every member attending the dinner, by your surprise, extended to you too. Luke had told you as much over breakfast, talking away about how Candy had been interrogating him on what dishes you would prefer. 
You had told him you didn’t care—because you didn’t and you had a feeling it would give him a harder time with Candy, which amused you. 
However, Luke had been frustratingly vague with the timings of everything. It wasn’t a big deal, considering you didn’t have much else on your plate to be worried about. But the limited wardrobe and Luke’s shrugged response when asked about the dress code for the dinner was turning out to be quite the issue.
It was somewhere just past seven when you heard three knocks on your door.
“I’m decent!” You called out, frowning at the few options hanging in your wardrobe. It was quite sad, to be honest. But you hadn’t had the chance to get everything transferred from your New York apartment, not that anyone from the Rangers seemed eager to offer their help. 
But instead of coming in like he usually did, Luke knocked again.
You frowned, turning to look at the door. “Just come in!”
The door remained shut.
“You’re so dramatic,” you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes as you made your way towards the door. You reached for the handle, fully prepared to see Luke on the other side with his face in his phone or even giving you a shit-eating grin like he knew he got under your skin. 
You were not expecting Nico to be standing on the other side.
“Oh.” You blinked. “I thought you were Luke.” 
Nico’s lips twitched. “I gave him the night off.” 
You raised your brows. “Oh?”
“There was a small change in plans.” Nico continued. “I thought I would escort you to dinner.”
“Escort me,” you repeated, something quite like amusement lacing your voice. “I didn’t realise these big dinners were so fancy. Should I change?” 
“We won’t be joining the others this week. I thought we could have dinner alone,” Nico corrected, his eyes watching you closely like he was inspecting your reaction. “If that is okay with you.” 
You tried to hide your surprise that he was giving you an option. A part of you wondered if it was a formality, something he phrased like an option but was really a command—something Jacob would do often. Yet, you couldn’t really find yourself imagining Nico was one of those people.
“Just the two of us?” You questioned.
Nico nodded before he spoke. “I thought it would be best for us to get to know each other.”
Your interest piqued but you didn’t show much as you nodded, telling him to give you a few more minutes before you joined him.
For the dinner itself, he led you away from the large dining room where you assumed the large group dinner was taking place. He didn’t say a word as you walked, seeming comfortable enough in the silence until you reached the room. 
And Nico played the part of a gentleman well. He opened the door and guided you in first. He pulled the chair out and waited for you to settle in your seat before he even made his way to his seat. He reached for the wine and filled your glass before even daring to touch his own.
You felt on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
“You look tense.” 
You raised your brows. “Just what a woman wants to hear.”
Nico’s lips twitched. “I have a feeling that you wouldn’t care what people say about you.” 
“Your feeling would be correct.” 
“Your reputation precedes you,” he mused, leaning back against his chair with an ease only a man in power would have. 
You tilted your head. “And yet, you still agreed to marry me.” 
“Who said your reputation wasn’t what appealed to me the most?” Nico retorted, hiding the smirk on his lips as he took a sip from his wine glass. 
“I am sure whatever flowery promises Jacob added definitely sold it,” you commented, unable to hide the bite in your voice. 
Nico stared at you for a few moments before he spoke. “I do apologise.”
You raised your brows in questioning. 
“For blindsiding you that day,” Nico continued. “I was under the impression you were aware of the contract.” 
“Funnily enough, I was not informed my name had been thrown into a deal,” you replied, jaw clenching a little as the reminder of what Jacob had inserted you into washing over you. This was your home now, not New York. “Jacob knew better than to tell me.” 
“Well, if it’s any consolation, your name wasn’t officially included,” Nico added. 
You paused, a crease forming between your brows. “What do you mean?” 
“Just that the official agreement between the Devils and Rangers included me marrying someone but no names were included for technicality reasons,” Nico answered and it took everything in you to keep your face straight. 
Up until this point, you were under the impression that Jacob had practically thrown you into the deep end with no warning because your name was the one on the contract. You had seen it time and time again in arranged marriages, you had seen demands to be made because men felt entitled to certain women or dangled them in front of the enemy as a bargaining chip. 
If you were being completely honest, you had assumed that was what happened here. You had assumed back and forth negotiations had been made and Jacob had deemed you the best bargaining chip to get whatever he wanted from the Devils. The Rangers tended to be old school and traditional that way. 
It never occurred to you that you weren’t a part of this, that you didn’t need to be a part of it. 
“So, Jacob just offered me up to fill a spot?” You questioned, your voice remaining steady and calm as your mind swirled with a million thoughts.
Nico’s eyes glimmered with an unreadable emotion. “Something like that.”
Your heart was racing in your chest. “And any woman could be in my spot and the agreement would still remain?” 
“I guess so,” Nico stated, seeming like he wanted to say more but he remained quiet. 
“Interesting,” you commented, a plan already forming in your head as you reached for your glass. “You may have made a mistake, you know?” 
Nico’s lips twitched upwards. “What makes you say that?” 
“If this is to be my wedding, I want it to be absolutely perfect,” you said with a casual shrug of your shoulders, staring at the man across the table from you. “I refuse anything less.” 
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Nico mused before raising his glass in your direction. “Do as you please.” 
Your smile widened in response as you took a long sip from your glass. 
You were going to break Nico Hishcier and you were going to make sure he sent you running back to New York, if it was the last thing you did. 
And then, you would make Jacob Trouba regret even uttering your name into the stupid agreement. 
“It was targeted?” 
Jesper nodded, his face serious and shoulders tensed as he slid a copy of the official police report across the table towards Nico. “Last night,” he said with a heavy sigh. “They broke in, roughed the place up a little and then set it on fire. It didn’t seem like they found whatever they wanted so they burned the place down.” 
“Talk about dramatic,” Jack grumbled from his spot on the couch. 
Nico shot the younger boy a look before turning back to Jesper. “What did the police say?” 
“As much as you would expect,” the blond shrugged. “They don’t want to get involved if it’s dirty work.” 
Nico raised a brow. “And is it?” 
“You tell me,” Jesper shot back, his jaw clenching. “Did your best friend Trouba mention anything about his boys’ weekend plans to break into one of our warehouses?” 
“Bratter is feeling sassy,” Jack sang, snickering even when Jonas tried to jab him with his elbow to keep quiet.
“These attacks have been going on for months,” Jesper pointed out, his lips turned downwards in a frown. “And they aren’t going to stop until we retaliate.” 
“We don’t know who is behind it yet,” Nico retorted. 
“Of course we fucking do.” 
“Jesper,” Nico shot him a look. “I know you don’t like my agreement with Trouba but he wouldn’t break it. We signed the truce.” 
“It isn’t official until the wedding,” Jonas spoke up from his spot on the couch next to Jack. 
“Jacob Trouba is many things but stupid isn’t one of them,” Nico sighed, ignoring the ‘ehhhh’ Timo muttered out as he leaned back in his chair. “And it would be incredibly stupid to target the people you are trying to sign an alliance with.” 
“Still,” Jesper grumbled as he nodded at the police report. “One week earlier and half of our stock could have been up in flames.” 
Timo raised his brows. “You think someone knew?” 
“I think someone may be getting delayed information,” Jesper corrected.
“I want you and Timo investigating this,” Nico said as he tapped his finger on the file. “Dig out the reports from the other targeted attacks and—” 
RING! RING! RING!
Nico frowned a little as the shrill of his phone echoed through the room. He ignored the boys’ curious looks as he reached for it, answering the call and lifting it to his ear. “Nico Hischier speaking.” 
“Uh, Mr Hishcier, so sorry to bother you,” a mousy, timid voice spoke from the other side. “This is Jeff from the bank calling and—”
“Get on with it, Jeff,” Nico stated bluntly. 
“Right, yes. Uh, there has been a suspicious amount of transactions coming out of your bank today and we wanted to inform you in case you wished us to freeze the accounts or—” 
Nico tried to bite back his smile. “Where are these transactions coming from?” 
“The last one to go through was a purchase of four hundred thousand dollars for…flowers?” 
This time Nico actually let out a loud, boisterous laugh which caught both Jeff and the boys in his study off guard.
“What was the one before that?” Nico asked, clearly amused. 
“Three hundred dollars spent at…McDonalds.” 
“Keep letting them through,” Nico assured the man on the other side of the phone. “That’s just my fiancée having some fun.” 
“Oh. Right. Sorry, Mr Hischier, and congratulations!” 
Nico thanked the man before hanging up, throwing his phone back down on the desk before he turned his attention back to the meeting they were having. However, he seemed to pick up on the eerie silence and lifted his head to find all of the boys looking at him with various expressions painted across their faces. 
“Out with it then,” Nico said eventually. 
“Count on Nico bagging the most expensive fiancée in New York,” Timo teased, a shit-eating grin on his face.
But Nico just shrugged. “It’s her wedding day. She wants it to be perfect.” 
“Even if it leaves you bankrupt,” Jonas snorted.
“As long as she’s happy,” Nico answered, sincere in his words. 
“If only Trouba knew how whipped you were for his girl, he would have never agreed to the deal,” Jack commented, raising his hands in mock surrender when Nico turned to glare at him.
“She’s not Trouba’s girl,” Nico gritted out. 
“Yikes, Boss has claws.” 
“Anyone with a pair of eyes can see how whipped Nico is,” Jesper commented with a huff of laughter. “Trouba is, in fact, stupid if he didn’t notice. Now, can we please get back to the main problem before he starts singing limericks.” 
Nico frowned. “Hey—” 
“My money is on the Sabres being involved!” 
“As if they even know how to light a match.” 
“You look like you have had a busy day.” 
You turned your head to find Nico standing in the door entrance, leaning against the frame as his eyes wandered over the dozens of bags in your room. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his sleeves were rolled to his elbows and a few strands of hair were falling into his face. It almost annoyed you that this was the most dishevelled you had seen him and he still looked so good and put-together.
“I decided to take it slow,” you answered casually, turning back around before you could see the smile tugging on his lips. “I didn’t want to scare Luke off too soon.” 
“The boy is tougher than he looks,” Nico commented. “I am sure he can handle whatever you throw at him.”
Your lips twitched. “You weren’t the one listening to him whine about carrying a couple of bags.”
“A couple is an understatement,” Nico mused. “He’s still unpacking the car with Dawson’s help.” 
You glanced over your shoulder, something victorious and smug shining in your eyes. “Is there a problem with that?”
Nico flashed you a smile. “My money is your money. My boys are your boys. Knock yourself out, schatz.”
You blinked, his words barely processing in your head before you realised he had already begun walking away. You glanced down at the countless bags littering your bedroom floor, most of them useless purchases you picked up to push the balance higher. 
And yet, Nico just walked away without a care in the world. 
“I really wouldn’t recommend this.” 
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not listening to you.” 
“Rogue—” 
You rolled your eyes, listening to the satisfying clicks of your heels against the floor as you made your way down the corridor. “He’s my fiancé.” 
“He is in a meeting,” Luke shot back. “He doesn't like being interrupted. Not even by us.” 
“I’m not you,” you retorted, almost hearing the eye roll from the younger boy following behind you. “And I don’t care if he is in a meeting, he can make time for me.”
“That’s not how it works,” Luke muttered under his breath.
“It is now.” 
“God, I’m going to have to plan a funeral.” 
You ignored the boy’s last feeble attempts to stop you from going through with it—or to at least knock on the door—but it was hopeless as you reached Nico’s study, hand on the knob and opening the door before Luke could even think to pull you back. Or throw you over his shoulder and run back down the corridor. 
The room fell silent as you stood in the doorway. 
You didn’t recognise the men sitting across from Nico at the large desk. They were old and burly and quite literally looked like characters out of Sopranos. They turned to face you, eyebrows furrowed and lips turned downwards at the interruption. 
You smiled in response. 
“What’s the meaning of this?” One of them spoke, the Jersey accent strong and thick and coating his words generously. “We’re doin’ business here, sweetheart. Bounce!” 
You glanced at the man, unfazed before you turned your gaze towards Nico who was watching you with interested eyes. “I need to talk to you.” 
“We are busy here, lady, can’t you see?” The other man spoke, huffing and puffing in his seat and it took everything inside you not to roll your eyes at his tantrum. 
“And now I’m busy with him,” you stated simply, arms crossed over your chest as you stepped further into the room. “Scram. You are done here.” 
The first man huffed, puffing his chest out as he opened his mouth to say something but Nico cut him off. 
“Go.” 
Both men turned to Nico, angry and outraged. “You cannot be serious?!” 
“Go,” Nico repeated himself, a little more firmly this time. 
The men were smart enough not to test Nico’s patience any further, rushing out the room with their tails between their legs as they did. It almost made you smile the way they avoided your gaze as they did so. You heard Luke let out a sigh behind you, muttering something under his breath as he followed the other men out and closed the door behind him. 
“You’ve intrigued me,” Nico spoke up, leaning back against his chair. “What could possibly be so important that you needed to discuss it with me?” 
You grinned as you lifted the folders in your hand. “Wedding venues.”
Nico blinked. “Wedding venues?” 
“Wedding venues,” you repeated, your eyes eagerly watching every inch of his face for a reaction. 
It took years of training to school your features as Nico nodded you over, still relaxed in his chair as he smiled back at you. Back in New York, a move like this would’ve gotten you killed and yet here—
“Show me,” he replied. 
Your eyes stayed on his face, waiting for a slip up as you walked towards his desk. You rounded the piece of furniture, pushing the boundary a little bit more as you hopped up on the desk and placed the folder down beside you rather than handing it to him. 
“Comfortable?” He asked, his voice almost sounding playful as he reached for the folder. 
“I’ve sat on more comfortable desks,” you commented offhandedly. 
His eyes darkened a little at that. But before you could even bring yourself to comment on it, he was already opening the folder and scanning through the options. 
They were obscene, if you were completely honest. They were tacky and loud and far from a place you would even step foot in, let alone have your wedding in. But they were expensive—so expensive that it would send a normal man into cardiac arrest to see the numbers beside each venue. 
Then again, Nico Hischier wasn’t a normal man. 
“Which one would make you happiest?” He eventually asked, lifting his head to look at you expectantly. 
Your eyes narrowed. “Are you that incapable of making a decision, Hischier?” 
His lips twitched. “And if I say I just want you happy?”
“I would say that is a weak man’s response,” you replied, lifting your chin a little. It was a testy comment to make, not one that many men in power would take lightly. 
To your shock, Nico just laughed. “Then I say pick the church.” 
You raised your brows a little—the church was the most expensive option on the list. 
“Do you disagree?” Nico followed up, watching the way you stared at him with an odd look in your eyes.
“No,” you said as you took the folder from him. “The church will do.”
“Is that all?” Nico asked, something in his voice that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It was like he was eager, whether that was for you to leave or stay, you couldn’t quite work out.
“Yes,” you answered, though you made no move to slide off the desk just yet. “Seeing as I have nothing else to do in this place. Just a sweet, complying fiancée doing her duties and planning a wedding.” 
Nico’s eyes glimmered in interest. “Sweet sums you up pretty well, no?” 
Your eyes narrowed in a glare. 
“I mean, by all means, take the honeymoon planning off my hands if that is what you want,” Nico continued, shifting a bit closer so your foot was nudging his thigh. You were almost distracted by the casual drop of information about the honeymoon he was apparently planning.
“You’re mocking me,” you stated bluntly.
“A little,” he mused.
“You know my reputation,” you added. “Surely you knew what kind of wife I would be.”
“I had my guesses,” Nico confirmed with a nod.
“And yet, here we are.” 
“Here we are indeed,” Nico grinned. “Do you want to reserve the venue or shall I?”
It was safe to say Luke steered clear of you for the rest of the day following your mood after you left Nico’s study.
“You don’t get it,” Luke huffed, fingers tapping along the wheel. “This is the best bakery on the east coast, maybe even the whole country!”
You raised your brows. “Is that so?”
“Just wait until you try Peter’s strawberry tarts,” Luke insisted, so serious that it took everything inside you to not snort. “It’s like…heaven in your mouth.” 
“Peter is just that good, huh?” You mused.
“You’re teasing me now but you will be wanting the guy to make your wedding cake after you try some of his desserts,” Luke stated confidently. 
You had no real plan for today other than the desperate need to get out of the house. You were bored out of your mind and Luke was not too far behind, considering you spent almost every waking hour with the boy. It had been an offhand comment about wanting something sweet that made the boy grab your hand and drag you out of the house.
Luke was adamant that Peter’s Bakery in Hoboken was the best bakery in the state. You had been content to just sit in the passenger seat and let the younger boy ramble on about how all the Devils frequented there, that Candy was known to visit once a week, that Jack tended to hide out there after a particularly bad day. 
It was endearing to hear about the place. 
It was even more endearing that Luke trusted you enough to take you there, even if you wouldn’t dare to admit that out loud.
“Pete?” 
“One sec!” 
Luke glanced at you over his shoulder, grinning wider than you had ever seen before turning back to the counter. A few moments passed before a man walked out: brown hair, average build, a little mousy looking. And the apron covered in flour truly added to the baker charm.
“Moose,” the boy greeted with a large smile. “What can I get for my second favourite Hughes?” 
Luke rolled his eyes but began listing off far too many pastries and sweet treats for two people to enjoy. 
Five minutes later, you found yourself sitting across from the boy in a booth with a large variety of baked goods laid out on the table in front of you. It was borderline overwhelming and intense but you didn’t have the heart to stop Luke from ordering so much when he kept insisting on all the classics you had to try.
“So,” you began as the boy pushed a slice of apple pie towards you. “Moose?” 
“It’s an old nickname,” Luke answered with a halfhearted shrug. 
You raised a brow. “How old?”
Luke’s lips twitched. “Peter is an old friend of mine and Jack’s. He…he’s been there for us through a lot.” 
“Because our line of business crosses paths with bakers so often,” you mused, lighthearted and playful. You could tell the words were heavier than he was letting on but you didn’t have the heart to start poking at old wounds. Not today.
Luke snorted. “Nah, he needed to lay low after some close calls. He made some deal with Nico. Boss offers him protection, he offers the best apple pie you will ever have in your entire life.”
You shot a glance towards the other boy, working away behind the counter with a sense of ease that told you he was comfortable, that he felt safe even being so out in the open and exposed to the public. It wasn’t something you saw often in this industry when people had a target on their back. 
“He did?” You asked, your voice a little softer than before. 
“He’s a good guy, you know,” Luke murmured in response, watching your expression closely. 
“He has a reputation for being fair,” you commented absentmindedly. “Which is a load of bullshit when it comes to our work.” 
“Not with Nico,” Luke retorted. “He is harsh when he needs to be. But he is understanding. He gets it.”
“Hm,” was all you could respond with, your mind spiralling with a million different stories of men in power that exploited and corrupted the world around them in the greedy hunt for more. You had seen men crumble under that desire, you had seen them sacrifice their lives and loved ones to get what they want. 
You couldn’t imagine someone having all that power and not being corrupted by it. 
“Hey,” Luke whined, all youngest child like, as he lightly kicked your shin under the table. “Stop procrastinating and try the pie!” 
You rolled your eyes, making a show of grabbing the fork and cutting off a good sized chunk before shovelling it in your mouth.
Luke looked at you expectantly. “So?” 
“It’s good.” 
He blinked before frowning. “Just good? Are your taste buds broken?” 
“Fine, it’s very good,” you corrected with a small smile on your lips. “But it’s not the best apple pie I have ever had.” 
Luke raised his brows. “Oh yeah? And where was that?” 
“Tony’s Tiny Bakery,” you shot back, watching as the boy huffed across from you. “It was around the corner from this cute Italian place that did amazing garlic bread too. I’ll have to take you one day, it’s only—” 
And then you paused. 
And it was stupid to say when you had quite literally spent the better part of the last few weeks in your new home, when you had been coming up to the three month mark in New Jersey. But it hit you that you would never see New York again, not in the way you had growing up. 
You were a New Jersey Devil now. You had a new home and new territory. You had a new family you were supposed to be accepting. You weren’t able to step back in the city you grew up in, not without direct permission from the people you used to call your family. 
You had been so pissed that day when Jacob had thrown you into the deep end of an arranged marriage you had never known about that you wanted to get him back, you wanted to hit him where it hurt and have one last act of defiance. You had walked away from New York with no proper goodbye because you knew it wasn’t what he wanted. 
And truthfully, it wasn’t what you wanted either. 
You never got the chance to say goodbye to such a large part of your life and identity. You never got the chance to say goodbye to the people who raised you and the people you grew up with. You never got the chance to visit your favourite places in New York with the freedom of being a Ranger before you jumped ship. 
It never really hit you that you missed New York as much as you did.
“I get it.” 
You almost jumped in your seat when you felt a hand over your own, when you blinked away the tears welling up in your eyes to find Luke smiling fondly from the other side of the booth. You tried to pull your hand away and pretend everything was okay, but the boy tightened his hold on you.
“I know what it’s like to leave the only place you called home,” Luke murmured, his voice soft but thick with emotion. “It gets easier.” 
You nodded, swallowing the ball in the back of your throat before you flashed him a small smile. “This apple pie is pretty damn good.” 
Luke’s smile widened. “Of course it is. I don’t mess around when it comes to food, Rogue. Catch up.” 
You let out a small but genuine laugh in response. 
“How quickly can you get dressed?” 
Your eyes wandered over your magazine page towards the boy standing at the bottom of the couch you were currently laying on. He was dressed in his usual attire—the shirt, dress pants and nice shoes that probably cost more than the average man’s monthly salary—and raised your brows. 
“Depends,” you answered as you lowered the magazine you were halfheartedly reading to rest on your stomach. “Get dressed as in ���we are walking around the park’ or ‘we are about to go to a gala’?” 
Nico smiled a little. “More ‘wear something that is comfortable and easy to carry guns on you’.”
Now that caught your attention.
You sat up on the couch, the magazine abandoned on the pillow beside you as you stared at the boy with interest. “You’re taking me on a job?” 
“I was hoping to use your expertise for something,” Nico said with gentle but watchful eyes. “Are you in?” 
“Give me fifteen minutes,” was all you responded with before walking past the boy and towards your bedroom.
Less than thirty minutes later, you found yourself slipping out of Nico’s car and looking at the absolute mess in front of you with raised brows, a low whistle of surprise leaving your lips as you took in the damaged property. 
“And this was done recently?” 
“Two weeks ago,” Nico confirmed with a nod, frowning at the warehouse with a look of frustration and annoyance. “Third warehouse chosen. Fourth targeted attack.” 
You glanced at him. “What was the other?” 
“A person,” Nico frowned. “We were lucky that their plan failed, which is why I assume they began to target buildings instead.”
“Coward move,” you frowned, choosing to ignore the way Nico snorted a little at your response. “What did the warehouse hold?” 
“Just some of our basic exports,” Nico shrugged.
Your eyes widened a little.
He frowned. “What?” 
“Nothing,” you shrugged, clearly your throat a little. “Just a little surprised you told me, to be honest. I thought you would have given some weird elusive answer.” 
His frown deepened a little. “Why would I do that?” 
“Because I’m a glorified stranger,” you retorted like it was obvious. 
“You’re my fiancée,” Nico corrected, his voice still serious and sincere as he spoke. “What’s mine is yours.” 
You swallowed a little at his intensity. “So this mess is mine too?” 
“Just like everything else I own,” he said with a nod. “And as much as is your right to be here as my fiancée, I also brought you because you’re smart. Because you know how to get in people’s heads. Because you’ll be able to spot things neither me nor the others will see.” 
“Trouba’s favourite tool,” you deadpanned.
“You’re your own person here, Rogue,” Nico assured you, something else written in his expression that you couldn’t quite read. “It’s something you should get used to. You’re a Devil now.”
You didn’t get much of a chance to reply before he wandered towards the desolate warehouse, footsteps crunching with every step he took whilst you were left slightly baffled by the enigma that was Nico Hischier. 
“So, is she in love with you yet?” 
Nico shot Jack a look. 
“Because from what Luke’s told me, she has been doing everything under the sun to piss you off. And I’m no expert in love but that doesn’t seem like something someone in love would do,” Jack continued as he settled happily on the couch in Nico’s study—one of his favourite spots.
“Did I not give you a job?” Nico asked bluntly, leaning back in his chair and sighing. He knew there was no point of attempting to do any more work whilst the younger boy was in the room.
“Yeah but we both know I’ll get to it eventually,” he waved the older man off, his hands tucked behind his head as he lounged back on the comfy couch. “This is far more entertaining.” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nico sniffed. 
“I have seen you shoot a man between his eyes without a second thought,” Jack mused, the glee in his voice unmissable as he continued to tease the older man. “And yet, I watched you have a full breakdown to Dougie on whether or not your fiancée would prefer your hair slick back or product free on the off chance you bumped into her that day.” 
“I like to make a good impression,” Nico retorted. 
“You’re trying to seduce her and failing miserably,” Jack shot back.
“She is my fiancée,” Nico huffed out. 
“She is the girl you have been downright obsessed with since she knocked you on your ass four years ago,” Jack corrected. “And she doesn’t even remember.” 
“I was undercover,” Nico defended. “Pally hardly recognised me that day, too.”
“Are you listening to yourself, Hisch?” Jack questioned, his brows raised in amusement. “This is getting a little pathetic.” 
Nico let out a heavy sigh, raising his hand towards Jack for him to continue. “Okay then, what do you suggest?” 
“Less mind games and playing the elusive mob boss character you’ve been trying out,” Jack answered, his voice a hint softer than before and it caught him off guard, “Be Nico—the real version.” 
“That was very High School Musical of you,” Nico teased. 
“I knew it was a bad idea letting you watch those movies,” Jack playfully groaned but he was grinning back. “I take it back, put the scary mob boss face back on. She is gonna laugh you back to Switzerland if you quote that shit to her.”
“She could be a fan,” Nico pointed out.
But Jack just shot him a look. “I know you’re blinded by love and all that jazz, but even you have to know that is a load of bullshit.”
“Go do you work now, Jack.” 
The younger boy gave him a mock salute. “On it, Boss.” 
In your mind, the plan was full proof, effective and successful. 
In reality, it was a form of torture that didn’t have the results you wanted and instead left your brain scrambled on whether you really wanted it to work or not.
When you stepped out of that meeting room months ago, you were under the impression you were stuck in this arranged marriage with Nico Hishcier. A week later, you thought you had a loophole and a clear path back to New York and the life you had. 
Instead, you were laying in your bed and reeling that although you may not be the typical mob wife, Nico Hishcier was far from the typical mob boss. And it was completely fucking with your plan. 
And maybe you weren’t fully ready to admit it but it was fucking with your desire to go back home too—if New York even felt like home anymore. New Jersey was a breath of fresh air that you never knew you needed, that you never knew you wanted. 
The Rangers may have been your family once upon a time, but the Devils felt more like the word than the former ever had. You felt like you were watching the family of them through a window, and you were starting to realise maybe being on the inside wouldn’t be so bad as you thought. Maybe being in a place where they valued and listened to you wouldn’t be so bad either. 
But New York was all you ever knew, was all you ever thrived in. It was hard to just throw that all away. 
Even if Nico Hischier was making the option of staying very appealing. 
Even when some of the other Devils—the ones that weren’t your biggest fans—felt more welcoming than the boys back in New York. 
Exhibit A: Jesper Bratt. 
Nico had pulled Luke out for the day, saying he needed the boy’s help with a different job. He hadn’t offered to put anyone in Luke’s place. To be honest, you think Luke was only continuing with it because he enjoyed spending time with you too. But it had been Jesper who offered himself into Luke’s role when you had mentioned visiting a few shops in town by yourself. 
It didn’t take a genius to work out he was suspicious of you.
You didn’t take it to heart, not really. He wasn’t going out of his way to make you uncomfortable or wary, but the lingering tension was enough to make you observe him with the same watchful gaze. 
“You don’t like me.” 
Jesper’s eyes flickered to meet yours in the rearview mirror before returning to the road. “I never said that.” 
“You didn’t have to,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “It’s written all over your face. And the extra gun you slipped into your waistband before we left.” 
His cheeks burned a little at your words. 
“It’s fine,” you assured him. “You’re his second-in-command. It’s your job to be wary, to have Nico’s back.” 
Jesper hummed but didn’t say anything right away. 
Instead, a few minutes of silence passed as you two made your way through usual Jersey traffic. The radio was on, but turned on so low that the two of you could barely hear it. The streets were busy, even for a random Thursday afternoon. It was like the world was going on as normal, despite the lingering tension in the car between you and the blond.
“I do like you,” Jesper said eventually. “I just don’t trust you.” 
“Because you think I’m going to betray the Devils?” You guessed. 
“Because I think you are capable of hurting Nico far worse than a gunshot or a knife in the back ever could,” Jesper corrected, seeming to catch the surprise on your face.
“You think I would hurt him?” You questioned, ignoring the way your stomach twisted at the words. Growing up in this life had meant you had seen far worse than a gunshot or a knife in the back, had meant you had done much worse. And yet the idea of any of it being directed towards Nico seemed to leave you on edge and make the hairs on the back of your neck rise.
“I think you are capable of a lot without even realising it,” Jesper answered honestly. 
You didn’t reply to the blond but you wondered if your return to New York would hurt Nico. 
You wondered why it made your chest feel tight and uncomfortable. 
“So how did you get the nickname?” 
You blinked out of your thoughts, looking over at Luke who was walking by your side. “What?” 
“Rogue,” he said with a nod, like that was enough of an explanation. “Nicknames stick in this industry. So, where did you…go rogue to get it?”
You let out a small snort of laughter. “How do you not know it’s my actual name?” 
Luke glanced at you, his brows furrowed together. “Is it?” 
“No,” you grinned at him before shrugging. “I don’t know, to be honest. I just…never did well with listening to people’s instructions. It was a nickname my father gave me and I guess it just stuck.” 
“You listened when Trouba sent you here though,” Luke pointed out, unfazed by the glare you sent his way. You assumed that was bound to happen after you spent almost every day with the boy for the last few months or so. He was bound to feel comfortable enough to poke at the uncomfortable subjects.
“Because I’m stubborn not stupid,” you shot back, giving the boy a look. “I value my life.” 
Luke frowned. “You think he would’ve killed you if you didn’t comply?” 
“He’s killed people for less,” you shrugged but noted the way the boy still looked uncomfortable, unsettled even. “He wouldn’t have killed me. I’m too valuable, even if I’m disrespecting him. He probably would’ve just put me on some really shit jobs until his ego was healed.” 
Luke nodded, still looking quite on edge. 
“Luke,” you stopped walking, placing your hand on his arm to catch his attention and make him stop too. Logically, you knew that he was a grown man and he could handle his own emotions. Especially in an industry like this. But another part of you—the part that had spent the last few months with the boy almost every day—felt the need to wipe that frown off his face. “It’s fine now. And it doesn’t matter.” 
“Does it not?” Luke shot back at you. “You’ve been trying your hardest to find a loophole out of here, have you not? But you still want to go back there? Back to him? Even after everything he’s done to you?”
You blinked. 
“I’m young but I’m not stupid,” Luke huffed out, shaking his head as he took a step back. “It’s—whatever. Let’s just go. You said you wanted to check out that shoe store?” 
You took a step forward. “Luke—”
“We should head over now before heading back to the house. We—” He paused before continuing. “I don’t want to be late for dinner.”
You didn’t see Luke over the next few days. 
He had sent a brief message about being busy wrapped up in a job Nico gave him, which albeit wasn’t the best excuse but you let him off. You weren’t sure what upset him and you didn’t think poking around and asking more questions would do any favours. So, you let the boy take his space and take his time. 
It was Luke. 
You had no doubts that he would talk to you again when he wasn’t as worked up or upset about the situation. 
But the lack of daily companion left you feeling quite lonely, which was ironic considering you had considered your whole stay in New Jersey to be quite lonely as an outcast. You hadn’t realised just how much you relied on Luke’s company until he wasn’t knocking on your door every morning, convincing you to try some new outrageously overpriced cafe using Nico’s card to pay. 
You broke around the third day, deciding to seek out your own company in the form of your fiancé.
“I was told you would be here.” 
Nico lifted his head, peeking out from under the hood of the car he was currently hunched over. He glanced at you, an expression between surprised and elated as you stood on the opposite side of the garage.
“Is that so?” 
“Mhm,” you nodded, glancing around the large garage with eagle eyes. “Apparently this is how you spend your limited free time.”
Nico stood up straight, giving you a full look at the white tank top clinging onto his torso. It was criminal the way wiped his hands on a random rag, his biceps clenching with the movement before he tossed it to the side and gave you his full attention.
“I like fixing up old cars,” Nico said with a shrug, though there was a sense of ease in his posture. “It’s relaxing.” 
You blinked. “Tinkering around with some old metal is calming? Even if you can’t get it running?”
He laughed. “It takes my mind off things.” 
“How…mundane,” you responded, your brows furrowed together as you glanced at the few cars dotted around the garage. You didn’t know enough to know the brands or names of any of them. You didn’t even try to attempt it. 
“Mundane is nice sometimes, especially with the lives we live,” Nico retorted and you were inclined to agree. 
“This still seems stressful though,” you added. 
Nico leaned against the car, arms crossed over his chest like he knew it would snag your gaze. “And what would you recommend I do?” 
“I don’t know, something normal people do to relax,” you shrugged your shoulders. “Like, go on a picnic.” 
Nico paused, staring at you as he tried to fight the grin off his face. “A picnic?” 
“I don’t know!” You threw your hands up in mock surrender. “People do it all the time in movies and shit.”
“What movies are you watching?” Nico laughed, though he seemed to enjoy watching the way you tried to hold back your own amusement. 
“They have picnics in plenty of movies,” you argued back. 
“Alright then,” Nico nodded. “Then we will do it. You and me, tomorrow at twelve.” 
You blinked. “What?” 
“We are gonna have a picnic and be normal,” Nico stated, leaving no room for questions as he reached for the rag once again. “Unless you have some super normal thing you do to take your mind off things to do instead?” 
You bit the inside of your cheek. “Shooting range.”
“That’s what I thought,” he snorted as he flashed you a grin. “Me and you, schatz, at twelve. Don’t be late.” 
A small part of you thought Nico was joking about the picnic. 
A larger part of you knew the boy would be knocking on your door by half past eleven, dressed in a pair of jeans and a hoodie and looking so normal. So unlike the mob boss you know him to be. 
And the white bucket hat on his head was oddly endearing. 
In complete honesty, you hadn’t expected much from the picnic and how seriously the boy would take it. Though, you should have known better when he parked his car, an excited smile on his face as he led you towards the grassy patch in the park where a blanket and wicker basket had been laid out. 
“Oh wow,” you murmured out as you walked towards the scene, his palm warm and guiding on the small of your back. 
“Really fits the movie vibes, huh?” Nico retorted with a knowing smile.
You snorted. “I feel so normal right now.”
“Then my job here is done,” he smiled as he leaned back on the blanket, balanced on his elbows as he looked up at you. 
You were surprised how far he ran with a passive comment. You wondered what it must have looked like to people passing by the two of you, if you looked like a normal couple on a date, enjoying a sweet picnic together. You wondered if it even counted as a date at all. 
It was ironic that the man beside you had been your fiancé for the better part of the last four months and you didn’t know much about him, that neither of you knew each other all that well. 
“What’s your favourite colour?” 
Nico paused, looking up from the small plates he was loading up for the two of you. “My favourite colour?” 
“Yeah,” you nodded. 
“Red.”
“Favourite kind of music?” 
“Swiss rap.” 
“Favourite animal?” 
“I don’t think I have one.” 
“Cat person or dog person?” 
“Both.” 
Your nose scrunched up. “You can’t be both. That’s cheating.” 
Nico raised his brows in amusement. “I don’t think I can cheat at a game I don’t know.” 
“Just wanted to know what kind of man I am marrying,” you replied with a shrug of your shoulders. 
“Is there where you tell me that being a cat person is your deal breaker?” Nico joked.
Your lips twitched. “It would be something I would have to take into consideration.” 
“Might have to keep some secrets to save my marriage then,” Nico said with a sigh, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he smiled. You don’t think you had ever noticed that before. It was weird seeing someone in his position show any emotion but intimidation so easily. 
You raised your brows. “Doesn’t everyone have a few skeletons in the closet?” 
“Is this your subtle way of asking me what mine are?” He questioned, pushing the plate towards you. You were surprised to find a few of your favourite snacks on the plate. You wondered if he had bothered Luke or someone else to find out, or if it was a lucky guess.
“Would you tell me if I asked?” You shot back.
“I would tell you anything if you asked,” Nico replied, the playfulness replaced by sincerity that made your brain spiral a little.
“You know,” you tried to laugh it off. “I don’t think many people in this life agree with you there.”
“I’m not them and you’re not their fiancée,” he answered with a shrug. “Who gives a fuck what they think?” 
You looked at him with a mixed expression. “And you’d answer anything I ask you right now?”
He gestured for you to continue. “Try me.”
You tilted your head, taking a few moments to contemplate before you spoke. “Did you know I was going to be the one waiting for you in that room?” 
“I did,” he confirmed with a nod.
“And you had no issues with that?” 
His lips twitched. “Quite the opposite.” 
You shot him a curious look. “And if Jacob had lied to you? If there was someone else in the room?”
“I would have refused the alliance,” he stated simply, like he was reiterating a well-known fact.
You snorted. “Yeah, okay.” 
“I would have,” Nico insisted, his expression remaining dead serious.
Your smile faltered a little. “Nico.” 
“Rogue,” he mocked in the same tone of voice.
“You don’t have to lie to me,” you murmured.
Nico frowned. “Who said I was lying?” 
“You would have refused an alliance that would massively benefit you?” You retorted, your brows furrowed a little. “Don’t be stupid.” 
“Both sides went into that alliance wanting something,” Nico answered with a heavy look in his eyes, one that you couldn’t quite read. “I knew what I wanted and I wasn’t signing shit for anything but that.” 
“And that was me?” You teased because the conversation was getting serious and your heart felt like it was in your throat and you were pretty sure you would lose your mind if Nico kept staring at you with those intense eyes. You were also pretty sure you would lose your mind if he looked away.
“Yes.” 
You blinked, waiting for him to laugh but he didn’t. 
“What?”
“I think you heard me clearly enough the first time,” Nico mused, watching the way a million emotions passed over your face.
“Oh,” was the only response you could come up with. 
“Still don’t believe me?” Nico questioned, something like amusement in his voice. Something quite like a challenge too. Like he was expecting you to call him out on it, like he had been waiting for the chance to prove himself.
“And if I don’t?” You murmured, a little more breathless than you intended.
You watched as his eyes dropped to your lips, lingering for a few moments. “Then I’ll find a way to prove it.” 
You opened your mouth to say something, though you weren’t even sure what. You didn’t know if you were going to beg for him to do it, to prove it. You didn’t know if you were going to tell him to stop playing whatever game he was playing. You didn’t know if you were going to tell him to fuck the vague, elusive chat and to just fucking kiss you already. 
You were pretty sure it was most likely going to be the last option.
But you never got the chance to even utter a word before the loud, high-pitched shrill of a phone broke the moment.
You blinked, quickly glancing away and taking a few moments to ground yourself as Nico quickly sat up on the blanket. He patted his pockets before slipping his phone out, answering it with a slight peeved off look on his face.
However, that quickly changed when the person on the other side of the phone began speaking, the words muffled but the urgent tone was clear even to you.
It took less than a few seconds before Nico was scrambling to get up, abandoning the basket and blanket before he nodded for you to get up too. His hand was a little more pushy as he directed you towards his car, his face serious and almost murderous as he quickly got in the car, racing to turn it on.
“It’s Jack,” was all Nico could mutter out for context before the two of you were racing towards the house.
.
578 notes · View notes
aweina · 1 year ago
Text
ᰔ. wrong package : mike schmidt — suggestive warning !! + ft. secondhand embarrassment.
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next door neighbor mike who randomly appears in front of your doorstep, an unusual flushed look in his tired features. neither of you have been formally acquainted, if you don’t count the forced awkward exchanges when getting the mail outside.
although, mike was good looking despite his unkempt demeanor — the remnant memories of his stiff politeness and husk voice had you fawning over him for as long as you were made aware of his presence. but it seems like he’d rather get to work or rest at home than getting to know any of his neighbors.
but now, he stands in front of you shifting one foot over the other — his wavering eyes settling onto the torn box in his grasp rather than your face. there was a bob to his throat, swallowing down on his thickening saliva in anticipation.
“uh sorry to bother you, but i’ve actually gotten your package on accident and ummm … i opened it.” his fumbling words shot through his lips like he’s in a rush, but you still manage to make his statement coherent.
he directs your curious eyes over the beaten package and immediately, your polite smile turned into a silent scream. the rabbit vibrator that you ordered online was hastily covered in some old newspaper — what mike probably did beforehand out respect of your already invaded privacy. the hot pink color and obnoxious packaging taunting you. your name was bold and printed on the delivery sticker, sparing you no excuses for your erotic purchase.
your dilated pupils and now flushed complexion made mike feel apologetic, yet somewhat amused. his encounters with you were a rarity, but he made sure to remember those moments. like when you would focus on reading the mail beside the shared mailbox, the way your face looked so cute carefully squinting and mumbling each word. or even that time you mistaken his sister as his daughter, the same dust of pink settled onto your cheeks like it did now.
mike formed an impression that you’re put together and tooth achingly innocent, but after accidentally opening your package — his superficial thoughts about you has gone down south and into the depths of a more lustrous head space.
how would you look like using it? what would you sound like? crude and carnal ideas spilling over the mental image of your face, his senses clouded with this new epiphany.
he carefully hovers his hand over yours and guides them with a phantom touch, placing the package gently in your stiffened grasp. the furrow in your brows and lack of response made him worried you might pass out — but then you began to sputter a shy “thank you”, your quivering eyes never meeting his. it was a nice look, he couldn’t deny it.
“i won’t tell, promise.” his previous nervous manner completely melted away as he teases you for a bit, his pointer finger pressed against his friendly smile — like it could somehow permanently seal his lips from exposing your status on your sex life.
you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak — not when you heart feels like it’s about to explode while your body temperature is fighting between haunting chills or overwhelming heat. the gaze in his eyes was much more darker and relaxed than before. weirdly enough, you trust him like you’ve known him your whole life. mike gives you a friendly farewell before he makes his way back into his house.
slowly shutting the door with a solid click, you immediately pathetically fall to your knees and shriek in absolute horror — the box crashing down with you and revealing the one thing that made this rare exchange so humiliating, embarrassment settling so thick in your core. your hot neighbor knowing you’re sexually active? currently getting off to a dingy sex toy? you cannot go back outside again, not if you’re going to possibly see him. hell, you cannot even use the toy without thinking of mike. it’s like he cursed it with some spell, the whispers of his name draw closer each passing second whenever you gaze at the toy.
his ears perk at the bloodcurdling scream that pierced through your closed windows — one so loud and dramatic, it sounded like an active crime scene. he couldn’t help but helplessly laugh into his baggy sleeves, prickles of tears in the corners of his eyes. it’s been awhile since he’s laughed like that, it was needed. returning back home felt less eventful, your embarrassment still making him chuckle under his breath and somewhat eager to see it on you again.
of course, there’s no shame of getting yourself off, but if you needed a helping hand — mike would gladly come over and do his due diligence to be the perfect neighbor. with his new image of you carved into his mind and colorful second impression of you, maybe it’s time for him to make a more formal introduction of himself, once you actually start recovering from your eternal embarrassment.
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sweetercalypso · 11 months ago
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What Takes the Edge Off || Joel Miller
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Word Count: 2.0k
Summary: Now that Joel is living in Jackson, he’s picked up a few bad habits. When he comes home smelling like cigarettes, you punish him for his choice of vices
Notes: smoking, lap sitting, hair pulling, semi-public sex, grinding over clothes, edging, dom reader, sub(ish) Joel, no reader pronouns; smoking is gross unless you’re hot <3
joel miller masterlist main masterlist
Joel’s problem started with a crushed pack of Camels he’d found just a few short months after settling down in Jackson.
Truthfully, his problem had started when he was nineteen and naïve about the habit he was forming with the hand-rolled cigarettes stashed in his glovebox. They’d belonged to Tommy before Joel had quickly confiscated them with a lengthy lecture about the dangers of smoking.
Tommy was still a kid, but Joel was old enough to choose his own vices.
Everyone in Texas smoked; pipes, cigars, cigarettes – it was all commonplace in the rural heat of the South. Even after the world fell apart, there were plenty of people in QZs willing to trade a week’s worth of ration cards for a single carton of cigarettes, a stale taste of the life they’d left behind.
Joel had been more than happy to meet their demand, only occasionally skimming a few from his and Tess’s supplies. He didn’t crave the relief of nicotine any more than he craved a bottle of old whiskey or a quick, drunken fuck – it was just a way to cope with the life he’d been given.
Living in Jackson is different. The air is cleaner, the streets aren’t littered with soggy cigarette butts, and the weight of Joel’s bad habits has finally caught up to him.
The first pack he found, he’d shared with Tommy. The pair stood outside a crumbling house on their patrol route and chain-smoked what was left in the half-crushed box, reminiscing about the time Tommy stole an imported cigar from their father’s nightstand and had gotten sick from the first puff. Twenty years since they’d seen home, their Southern upbringing still kept them from smoking indoors.
The smell of tobacco had worn off by the time they returned to the city gates, and you were none the wiser about their indulgence. Even when you threw your arms around Joel and buried your face in his chest, you’d greeted him like nothing was out of the ordinary.
A couple days after he’d finished the first pack, Joel realized how much he enjoyed smoking. He found himself missing the bitter taste in his mouth, fingers twitching at his sides like he’s flicking loose ashes from a phantom burning tip.
There’d been a gun in his hand for as long as he could remember, and now that his days are spent in protected leisure, Joel feels like a crucial piece of himself is missing.
He’s constantly searching for the sleek steel of a pistol, the pressure of a trigger responding to his unabating command. The weight of a cigarette balanced between his fingers had eased the grief of being still.
A sealed pack of Marlboro’s was Joel’s next find, left behind on a coffee table in a house just beyond his normal patrol route. His habit had never been routine enough to pick a favorite brand, but the familiar red and white emblem is a welcomed sight, a promise of earthy tobacco and a good, slow burn.
The matchbook in his pocket is a heavy burden on Joel’s conscience as he picks up the cigarettes and quietly slips them into his supply bag. This time, he isn’t sharing with Tommy or anyone else who feels they have a claim over a portion of his findings.
Jackson might be a commune, but just this once, Joel’s nicotine-fueled prerogative trumps his commitment to sacrifice.
He waits until he’s past the city gates to unwrap the crisp plastic and slide the first cigarette out of the pack. It’s nearly midnight when he returns his horse to the stable and begins the short walk home, unlit cigarette dangling between his teeth as he attempts to light a match under the warm embrace of the streetlamps.
The initial thrum of nicotine flooding his lungs is bittersweet, a slight burn that dulls his senses with each deep breath. He walks with his cigarette pulled up to his mouth, the weak orange glow of lit tobacco burning a crude effigy into the shadows of his face.
You’re sitting on the porch when he rounds the corner, lazed in a rocking chair that Joel had built the previous summer – his attempt at adjusting to the slow life.
When he realizes that you’re still awake, he flicks the half-finished cigarette onto the ground and crushes it with the toe of his boot, waving a hand to clear the lazy smoke lingering in the air. He grumbles under his breath and pulls the front of his jacket to his nose to gauge how long it would take the smell of tobacco to fade, but he realizes too late that the sickly-sweet aroma is already woven into the material – still clinging to his breath.
He makes his way up the sidewalk with a guilty look on his face and a hand tucked in his pocket, thumb rubbing soothingly over the side of the cigarette pack as if the feel of the box was enough to bring him relief.
It wasn’t that he expected to be chastised for his nasty habit – you knew better than anyone that Joel preferred to take care of himself. But he distinctly remembers a conversation you’d shared some time ago about old-world vices and your distaste for smoking.
He didn’t think it was worth mentioning his habit at the time; smoking was a luxury he doubted he’d ever have again, so why ruin his image of calloused self-restraint?
The sound of the porch steps creaking under Joel’s boots grabs your attention from whatever book you’d been reading, now abandoned face-down on the arm of the rocking chair as you turn to greet him.
“You’re home,” you drawl, the tired lilt in your voice betraying your content expression.
His chin dips in a bashful acknowledgement, tucked to his chest as he leans down to press a kiss to the side of your face. He still isn’t used to having someone waiting up for him; the thought only adds to the weight of his self-reproach.
“How was patrol?” you ask as Joel pulls away, though your eyes rake over him with another question in mind.
Before he can answer, you reach out and grab the front of his jacket, bringing the material to your nose to confirm what Joel already knew. “You smell like smoke.”
He swallows the sandpaper feeling in his mouth and shrugs. “Got a little cold out tonight, we stopped to make a fire on our way back.”
He cringes internally at his halfhearted attempt at avoiding the matter, but it doesn’t seem to deter you from putting the pieces together anyway.
“No,” you interject, brows pulled together in confusion. “You smell like cigarettes.”
He’s silent for a moment, unable to think of an honest way out of this conversation. “Huh.”
“Joel,” you drawl, standing and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. A teasing grin pulls at the corners of your mouth, a scandalized amusement that makes his cheeks burn. “Have you been smoking?”
Your fingers weave through the dark curls at the nape of his neck, tugging softly until his head rolls back.
His eyes flutter shut and he shudders as he pulls the offending pack from his pocket. “Found ‘em on patrol,” he pants, his free hand gently squeezing your hip. “People leave all sorts of useful things behind when the world’s endin’.”
You offer only a simpering tsk in response, not quite the reaction Joel was expecting.
The night air is silent beyond the quiet lull of Jackson and the floorboards shifting under your feet as you shuffle closer together, sharing an intimate moment in the dim light seeping through the front room windows. Joel’s hands are a firm presence on your waist, separated from your skin by only the thin flannel shirt you’d stolen from his closet. 
Eventually, you pull away, ushering him into the seat you’d abandoned upon his arrival. He drops into the rocking chair with a grunt and drags you into his lap.
“Missed you, baby” he murmurs, admiring the way you fit perfectly into the hollow of his frame, the way you balance yourself overtop him with practiced ease.
He knows he should be more concerned about your indifferent reaction, more worried about the possibility of someone walking by. But his sensibility is swept away by the heave of your chest and the little sound you make when his hand presses against the base of your spine.
Your hips drag slowly over his and for a moment, Joel thinks you’ve forgotten about the cigarettes. Or maybe you won’t mind his indulgence as long as he makes up for it. The warmth of your body pressed against his makes Joel ache for more, ready to offer an apology with more than just his words.
Just as he leans in to press his mouth to yours, you pull away far enough that he misses.
“Ah-” you stop him with a raised hand, fingertips pressed to his pouted lips. “You can kiss me when you don’t smell like cigarettes.”
The warm, hazy feeling is suddenly ripped from the air. Joel’s head jerks back in a look of disbelief, mouth hung open and brows pulled together as if he’d been scorned. “You’re serious?”
“Mhmm,” you nod, running a hand over his chest to soothe his trampled ego. “Can’t stand the smell, baby. You know that.”
The rocking chair dips forward as Joel drops his head onto your shoulder with a groan. “That’s just cruel.”
“It’s not cruel,” you laugh, pushing back the mess of curls falling into his face. “When you come home from patrol, I wanna taste you, not smoke.”
Your hips stir over his once again and Joel swears under his breath. His cock twitches in interest and he begrudgingly accepts the torment of your slow pace. This isn’t the time to take charge and chase his high; he’ll let you take the reins until you decide that he’s forgiven.
He picks his head up to glance around the empty streets, assuring himself that there’s no one here to witness his weak-willed acquiescence.
“I wanna touch you, make you feel good,” you continue, ghosting your fingers over the front of his jeans. “But how can I do that when all I can think about is those nasty cigarettes? Hmm?”
Your hands travel back to his chest, but your hips continue to roll over his, trapping his stiff cock beneath the comfortable pressure of your thighs. His eyes flutter shut once more as he leans back into his seat and lets you have your fun.
It doesn’t take long for Joel to near his end, subtly bucking his own hips to help himself along. He’s right there, right at the edge of his release, knuckles turning white as his grip tightens on the arm rests and—
The weight in his lap is gone, replaced with an empty chill that makes Joel’s hips stutter. His eyes snap open as he struggles to focus in his blissed-out state, but a hand on his shoulder brings him back to reality.
You’re standing in front of him now, no longer providing the friction that’d been fueling the fire in his belly. “Sorry, baby. You don’t get off that easy.”
He groans when you crawl back into his lap and you’re flooded with a sense of empowerment. It shouldn’t feel this good to see Joel suffer. You know it’s not fair to tease him like this, but maybe he deserves a little punishment.
“Maybe if you hadn’t been smoking, I’d let you enjoy this. Let you use your mouth to make me come, let you fuck me the way you want to.”
Joel stays silent, obedient. He swallows around shallow gasps of air that make his chest rise and fall with the labor of his breaths, thighs tensing as he struggles not to chase that feeling dangling just out of reach.
“I could do this all night,” you note, settling your weight in his lap again, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. “And I think you’d let me.”
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rabbitcruiser · 1 year ago
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The city of Boston was founded on September 17, 1630.
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hamza-gaza2 · 28 days ago
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Dear humanity,my supportive friends
🚨A besieged family in Gaza appeals for help to survive🚨
Please consider reading my story
Peace be upon you, I am Hamza from Gaza, Palestine. I am 18 years old. Last July, I finished high school and obtained a grade of 92.6% in the scientific stream. I began my university studies, at the Islamic University of Gaza, specializing in software engineering. I fastened my belts, made my intention, and began the journey. However, with great regret, my journey has not yet begun and has ended quickly before it even started!
How difficult is that word for me. I made plans for my future and was determined to achieve them, but because of the war that is still ongoing today since last October, I lost that dream and I lost my plans and my future that It has become unknown, because of the machine of Zionist arrogance, which left nothing and hadn't left yet.
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In the beginning, I lost 3 of my dearest friends, then our house was burned, and warplanes also bombed my university in which I was attached. I wish I could accept that easily, because when you put yourself in my place, perhaps you will feel the horror of the event, because what is gone is My life in short: my room, which I always spent my time in, my simple office, where I spent my best times during my high school studies, and even my recreational time on social networking sites, and my university, where I used to spend the most beautiful times with friends, especially the university cafeteria, where I spent the most enjoyable times, all of this and more. I was deprived of it because of this brutal war. I don't know if you imagined the horror of the situation.
Today, as I am in Deir al-Balah in the south of Gaza due to forced displacement, I wake up every day not knowing how I will spend the time.
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There is nothing we can do here except wait, which I cannot describe in reality. Its difficulty. Emptiness is a very bad thing. The feeling of being unable to do anything and waiting for the unknown is truly frightening. Here we are on the 220th day of the war, and its duration is still unknown, and we do not know when it will end. Even if the war ends, we will only have escaped real death, but here we are, dying, Every day, every hour, and every minute, all of that steadfastness in order to meet our beautiful future ,so I write to you these lines that are filled with sadness for our situation here to tell you that we are here and we still have not given up and become complacent, and to also inform you that I created this link asking for helping me to complete my studies outside the walls of my city and country, knowing that the engineering major requires fees of 20,000 US dollars distributed over 5 years of studying.
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I also attach pictures of everything mentioned in my story.
Thus, I have no hope left except for this campaign! which I never expected to need, but it is life.
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Today, I stand helpless on the abyss, and I await your support to continue my journey, in the hope of meeting the desired hopes and trying to forget the unforgettable pains. I ask you to help in all forms (spreading, donating, moral support,...)
Many thanks and gratitude to you❤️
Hamza
@90-ghost @sayruq @appsa @aria-ashryver @northgazaupdates2 @timetravellingkitty @wellwaterhysteria @deepspaceboytoy @ot3 @dirhwangdaseul @mahoushojoe @schoolhater98 @rainn-dropz-world @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @communist-hatsunemiku @the-eldritch-it-gay @girlinafairytale @buttercuparry @amygdalae @transmutationisms @ashwantsafreepalestine @yugiohz @dykesbat @watermotif @stuckinapril @xinakwans @nibeul @komsomolka @aristotels
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 8 months ago
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Good Omens filming locations masterpost! ❤ 🐍😊 Part 2
(here to part 1 :))
(here to part 3 :))
Here to the map :)
Others in England (cont):
Tadfield Manor (S01E01, S01E02) - Bulstrode, Gerrards Cross
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Scene: The Tadfield Manor where the satanic nuns run the hospital in the first episode and Aziraphale and Crowley visit in the second episode
Availability (as of 2024): The manor has been in private hands since 2016 - in 2023 sold again, I didn't find on the internet that it would be available to visit in any form, the manor is not visitble from the public road.
Link on the map
Four Horsemen meeting (S01E05) – Old School Cafe, Longcross Road B386
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Scene: The cafe where Four Horsemen meet
Availability (as of 2024): street all day, the cafe Mon-Fri 7:30-15:00, Sat-Sun 8:30-15:00
Link on the map
Heaven middle floors (S01E01, S01E03, S01E04, S01E05) - Weybridge Business Park, Addlestone
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Scene: The Heaven middle floors scenes in season 1 were filmed here
Availability (as of 2024): The places can be sort of seen from the street but I don't think that visiting is possible
Link on the map
Pollution by the river (S01E04) – River Wey Navigation, Guildford
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Scene: The International Express Man delivers the package to Pollution
(fun fact: this one was the harderst one to pin down the exact location, I only knew bc of an article that the schooting took place by "Wey Navigation" which is a river long 32km (miles), I tried to find a better mention or through google maps comparing place for a long time but couldn't, finally I wrote to the River Way Navigation organization on facebook but they had no record of the shooting. Finally, in one of the photos I noticed that in the background there is a footbridge that I saw a photo of a similar footbridge while searching on a history of Wey Navigation river on the UK National Trust page and fortunately the previous mentioned facebook page knew where it was, WAHOO! :))
Availability (as of 2024): all day
Link on the map
Hogback Wood (S01E01, S01E02, S01E04, S01E05) - Painshill Park, Cobham
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Scene: The Hogback Wood where The Them play, seen in several episodes.
Availability (as of 2024): The entrance to the park is paid (£11 with prebooking online on https://painshill.co.uk/visit-us/ticket-prices-booking/) They open at 10 and close at 16-18 depending on the season. The World Word II crater they shot the main scene at should be in the west-south tip of the park. The whole path there and back is 4km (2,5 miles).
Link on the map
International Express Man's house (S01E04) - Shetland Close, Guildford
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Scene: The International Express Man leaves the house to make deliveries
Availability (as of 2024): street all day
Link on the map
Agnes Nutter's village (S01E02) - Weald & Downland Living Museum, Chichester
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Scene: The Agnes Nutter's village in episode two. In the map I highlighted which part we see the villagers and Witchfinder Major Pulsifer to through in the show.
Availability (as of 2024): The entrance fee is paid (£15.50 for an adult ticket prebooked online https://www.wealddown.co.uk/), it opens at 10 and closes at 16-17 depending on the month.
Link on the map
Tadfield Air Base (S01E05, S01E06) - RAF Upper Heyford, Bicester
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Scene: For the shooting of the Tadfield Air Base the former RAF Upper Heyford was used, by the examining the google maps and screenshots from the series I think that the area labeled as 'Shelter 9' was used.
Availability (as of 2024): The place is no longer used by RAF purposes, there are several companies that use certain areas it but it is not available for public. The Upper Heyford Heritage though organizes (paid - £25.00) tours through the airbase: http://www.upperheyfordheritage.co.uk/home-page/tour-booking/
Link on the map
Soho (S1) – Bovingdon Airfield Studios
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Scene: The Aziraphale's bookshop and Soho in season one were built at Bovingdon Airfield Studios
Availability (as of 2024): The studios can be rented but I don't think they are publicly available – the Soho is not there anymore though, it is now build in studios in Scotland.
Link on the map
The motorway on fire (S01E05) - M96 Training Motorway at Fire Service College, Moreton-in-Marsh
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Scene: The motorway on fire when Crowley is heading for Tadfield was filmed at M95 Training Motorway at Fire Service College that is usually used for training emergency service professionals
Availability (as of 2024): Not publicly available.
Link on the map
South Africa:
The 1941 church (S01E03) - St. Saviour's Church, Claremont, Cape Town
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Scene: The scene in Season 1 where Aziraphale is outsmarted by the Nazis and is saved by Crowley
Availability (as of 2024): Their facebook says Always open
Link on the map
Famine at a fancy restaurant (S01E03) - Mutual Heights building, Cape Town
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Scene: The restaurant where we meet Famine for the first time
Availability (as of 2024): It is a building with flats, offices and a reception, not available to public.
Link on the map
Crowley in a cinema (S01E04) - Joseph Stone Auditorium, Cape Town
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Scene: Crowley in a cinema (with Neil Gaiman cameo) watching animated rabbits when Hastur interrupts
Availability (as of 2024): Not publicly available as such but they there are presentations and and such happening there https://www.facebook.com/josephstone1968/
Link on the map
Aziraphale dancing gavotte (S01E04) - Casa Labia, Cape Town
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Scene: Aziraphale dancing gavotte in a discreet gentlemen's club in Portland Place in the late 1880s was filmed at Casa Labia in Cape Town
Availability (as of 2024): Casa labia is hotel and a restaurant so it can be visited in that way https://www.casalabia.com/
Link on the map
Anathema's child home (S01E02) - Llandudno Rock Villa, Cape Town
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Scene: The home which we see Anathema as a child with The Book (in the show it's Malibu, California)
Availability (as of 2024): street all day, the villa itself seems that it can be rented
Link on the map
Eden desert and ep6 time bubble desert (S01E01,S01E06) – Atlantis Dunes, Cape Town
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Scene: The Eden desert scenes and the time bubble with Adam and AC were filmed in the Atlantis Dunes at the outskirts of Cape Town
Availability (as of 2024): The Atlantis Dunes – or Witzands Aquifer Conservation Area – is a protected natural area. Biking adventures can be booked through https://atlantisdunes.com/ or also other activities through https://www.capetown.gov.za/Family%20and%20home/see-all-city-facilities/our-recreational-facilities/Nature%20reserves/Witzands%20Aquifer%20Nature%20Reserve
Link on the map
The apple tree in the Garden of Eden (S01E01) - Waterfall Valley (formerly Cascade Country Manor), Paarl
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Scene: The Eden apple tree with the waterfall in the background was filmed at the retreat Waterfall Valley (then Cascade Country Manor) (the tree was added by the film crew for the scene)
Availability (as of 2024): I am not sure if you can visit the waterfall like that or you have to be a guest in the restreat. The retreat is available for booking: https://www.waterfallvalley.online/
Link on the map
There were other scenes also filmed at South Africa (thought not specified exactly where): Hell was filmed in Cape Town in a former abattoir. The Noah’s Ark scene and the Crucifixion scene were filmed on a windswept plain just outside Cape Town. Also the Meggido scenes. The entire village used for the scene with War causing mayhem in an african village is in fact a set, built on scrubland over a sand mine just outside Cape Town. The French Revolution scene wa shot on a set that had been used twenty-four hours earlier for the scene in Ancient Rome. Famine visiting a burger place with Elvis was shot on a set in Cape Town. Also some scene's in Anathema's cottage with Anathema and Newt.
SEASON 2
Most of season 2 has been shot inside the film studio in Bathgate (f.e. the whole Soho has been built there), the driving throught the Blitz London in the Glasgow’s Wardpark Studios, the inside of the 1827 mausoleum in the River City studios in Dumbarton, the Hell in S2 has been shot in an old disused factory (not specififed which one). The shots of the Edinburgh castle have been shot from the top of the The Caledonian hotel.
Edinburgh:
Crowley and Shax in St James's Park (S02E01) – Inverleith Park, Edinburgh
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Scene: Crowley and Shax meet to discuss the news in St James's Park – the scene though was actually filmed in Scotland.
Availability (as of 2024): All day
Link on the map
The place where Crowley parks the Bentley (S02E01, S02E02) – Circus Lane, Edinburgh
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Scene: The place Crowley goes to to park the Bentley and sleep there
Availability (as of 2024): street all day
Link on the map
AC and Elspeth in Edinburgh (S02E03) - Moray Place, Edinburgh
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Scene: Aziraphale, Crowley and Elspeth are taking the first "pickled herring" to be sold, Aziraphale and Crowley are debating good and evil
Availability (as of 2024): street all day
Link on the map
Detective Aziraphale parks the Bentley (S02E03) – Victoria Street, Edinburgh
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Scene: Aziraphale arrives in the Bentley and happily goes to investigate
Availability (as of 2024): street all day
Link on the map
The Resurrectionist (S02E03, S02E06) - Cask and Barrel, Edinburgh
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Scene: Aziraphale goes to investigate to The Resurrectionist bar (also in Gabriel's memories with Beelzebub) – filmed in the Cask and Barrel bar
Availability (as of 2024): outside all day, inside 12-24, Fri-Sat 12-1
Link on the map
Stirling:
Edinburgh cementery (S02E03) - Old Town Cemetery, Stirling
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Scene: The cemetery in episode 3 was filmed at the Stirling cemetery (grave, some gravestones, Gabriel's statue and the crypt has been added by the crew for the shooting)
Availability (as of 2024): all day
Link on the map
AC and Elspeth going through Edinburgh (S02E03) – Broad Street, Stirling
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Scene: Aziraphale, Crowley and Elspeth going through Edinburgh while Aziraphale is trying to persuade her that she could do something else
Availability (as of 2024): street all day
Link on the map
Meeting Wee Morag (S02E03) - Mar's Wark, Stirling
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Scene: The small corridor behind the gate where Wee Morag is staying
Availability (as of 2024): The front all day, the corridor if not through the gate then hopefully from the other side
Link on the map
Others in Scotland:
AC drinking whiskey with Mr Darlymple and the corridor to Mr Darlymple (S02E03) – Hopetoun House, Queensferry
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Scene: Aziraphale and Crowley drinking whisky with Mr Darlymple while he explains why he needs fresh dead bodies also at the house has been filmed the corridor reading to Mr Darlymple
Availability (as of 2024): Hopetoun is visitable, Friday 29 March 2024 to Sunday 29 September 2024 Open 5 days per week (Thursday – Monday) from 11am to 5pm, £13.50 for an adult ticket for House and Grounds (to see both), or £13.50 for Grounds (to see the corridor)
Link on the map
The Windmill Theatre in 1941 (S02E04) - Hippodrome Cinema, Bo'ness
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Scene: The theatre that Crowley delivered the broken alcohol to and Aziraphale performed the bullet catch
Availability (as of 2024): You can visit the cinema for a movie or an event https://www.hippodromecinema.co.uk/whats-on/
Link on the map
Aziraphale's trip to Edinburgh (S02E03) and Shax hitchhiking (S02E04) - Forrestburn Hillclimb, Shotts
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Scene: The scene from Aziraphale's view when he travels to Edinburgh and Crowley calls him was filmed here.
Availability (as of 2024): Not available to public. The track is used by the members of the Monklands Sporting Car Club for special events. Outside of these the track is closed and no access is available except for hiring for special events/filming.
Link on the map
Soho and more (S2) - The Pyramids Studio, Bathgate
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Scene: The S2 Soho has been built in the Bathgate studio, also there were built and shot many other scenes
Availability (as of 2024): It is not available to visit for public
Link on the map
London:
Possibly only streets were filmed and the Bentley was added with VFX.
C on the way to A after A calls him (S02E01) - Wardour Street, London
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Scene: Crowley on the way to Aziraphale after Aziraphale calls him (to tell him about Gabriel)
Availability (as of 2024): street all day
Link on the map
(continue to Part 3 :))
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littlexdeaths · 6 months ago
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steve harrington x fem reader
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: injured steve, unprotected piv sex, car sex
a/n: this is an old blurb of mine that i’ve re-edited and added onto. i am the biggest slut for a injured man what can i say? enjoy xx.
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steve is bloody, bruised and completely exhausted.
fighting off demo-dogs and billy hargrove really did a number on him. the blossoming bruises beneath his eyes and the brightly colored band-aid on his forehead are a testament to that.
but that didn’t stop him from wanting you any less, his chapped lips beginning to roam the expanse of your throat after you dropped dustin off at home.
“steve, baby…” you sigh, gripping tighter onto the steering wheel. “let me get you home first, so i can clean you up.”
steve just groans against your skin, his hands starting to wander further south as you continue the drive towards his house. you don’t make it much farther though, having to pull off on the side of the deserted road as his fingers unbutton your jeans.
“steven,” your attempts to scold him are all but futile as his fingers slip beneath the fabric of your panties and it comes out as more of a breathy plea instead.
“we almost could’ve died back there, honey,” he answers, circling over your bud as he nips at your overheated skin. “just don't wanna waste another second with you.”
he quickly removes his hand from your center, helping you out of your jeans and into the backseat of his car. steve coaxes you onto his lap, gripping your hips tightly in his large hands. your thighs bracket his own, the heat from his body radiating through the denim.
your lips brush against his bloody ones with the utmost care, as to not cause him any more discomfort. but steve isn’t having it, pressing his lips more firmly against yours with a deep seated groan.
“no need to be so gentle, baby,” he chuckles. “i’m not gonna break.”
his words seem to be a direct contradiction of his current state, but there’s no use in arguing with him. especially when you want him just as badly. your hips grind down as he kisses you with an urgency you’ve never experienced before. your clit catches against the growing bulge in his jeans, the denim providing some much needed friction.
you can feel yourself getting wetter the longer steve guides your hips along his clothed cock. the combination of your heavy breathing begins to cloud the windows of the bmw, the air between you sticky with desire despite the cool temperature outside.
your body trembles in his arms as he continues to rock you against him until he can't take it anymore, his hands only leaving you to unbutton his jeans.
“shit— i need to feel you, honey.”
his desperation has you whining into the flushed skin of his neck as he pulls his cock from the confines of his jeans. he teasingly rubs the tip against your now soaked panties, catching on your clit once, twice, a third time before you’ve had enough.
you wrap your palm around the base of his shaft, sliding your panties to the side before you sink down onto his length.
steve's head falls back against the seat with a strangled groan as you allow him to fill you. your own face burying itself in the crook of his freckled neck, your breath comes out in small pants once you’re fully seated.
he’s just so big, and so deep that you could’ve finished from that feeling alone.
“stevie,” you whimper softly into his shoulder, allowing the male to lift your hips before guiding them back down.
it’s slow, intimate as he continues to bury his cock inside you, pulling the prettiest sounds from your lips. your fingers are tugging on the hair at the nape of his neck, his whines of your name filling the car.
he knows you both are getting close but steve can’t handle not being able to see you anymore. he gently coaxes you from your hiding place to meet his piercing gaze.
the moonlight that streams through the windshield highlights his battered and bruised features, and despite his injuries he’s never looked more beautiful. his eyes are molten honey as they take in the dirt dusting your cheeks and the small cut above your left eye.
but he’s looking at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time.
“god, i love you.”
the words are spoken before he can stop himself, his heart pounding beneath his rib cage. any doubt or fear leaves his mind as he feels your walls flutter and tighten around him in response to the confession.
“i love you, steve harrington.”
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