#jacob you are my enemy

[alteadelight]

so could this mean anthony and kenny were supposed to be the lgbtq+ couple that one of the co creators hinted at?? and now since they’re not (probably) gonna be canon then there’s no queer couple? or they changed it to a diff couple 🤨 (binary boyfriends please please please please please please please please please please)

[allux]

iwtv ship discourse is so funny to me

louis about sex with lestat: “the best drug you’ve ever had, imagine that flowing inside your veins again, now multiply it by miles, to the rings of saturn and back.”

louis about sex with armand: i fucked him

[teamhawkeye]

me anytime someone tells me that I don't have to fight and kill my way through every single enemy in the video game i'm playing:

[borom1r]

jousting escapades: i think Thee Knight’s horse isn’t even here today???? seems like Sir William’s horse is ready, Sir Jacob my most beloathed is also here so the feud clearly continues (but his horse isn’t ready or anything so??)

[slaygentford]

She was insane for following as the world caves in like literal apocalyptic grief murder suicide with atmosphere joy division. Endless talking/life rebuilding/don’t walk away. Abandoned too soon/don’t walk away in silence/don’t walk away. Girl he literally didn’t walk away. Girl help he didn’t. Girl he. Girl ge didn’t he didn’t walk away he. The. Locks from. Inside he. He did the. Escape hatch and he never truly. Walked away he. He didn’t walk. Away

[piratekenway]

for day three of @codextober: "enemy"!

Now Leon’s got his hands on Jacob’s torso, pulling his shirt up. “Oh, fuck,” he says. “Jacob, honey—when you try to breathe, do you feel any pain?” “You mean, are my ribs broken?” Jacob shifts in place, winces a bit, and shakes his head. Sure, the flash of pain lancing through his side isn’t exactly great, but he can still breathe normally enough. “Bruised, yes. I’ll certainly need to get them checked later. But I don’t think anything’s broken just yet—in fact, I rather think that welcoming committee had been downright friendly with us.” “Yeah, really liked the tea and crumpets they set out just for us,” Leon says, pulling a first aid kit from his bag. “Sit down.” “What, no miracle herbs?” Jacob asks. “Not now, no,” says Leon. “I ran out before I ran into you, and I haven’t exactly been on the lookout for them since the Tyrant showed up.” He pulls a cloth from the kit, then pours water from his canteen on it and folds it up, applying the damp cloth to Jacob’s torso. “Does it hurt?” he asks, worriedly. Jacob winces. “A bit, yeah,” he says. “I can still fight and sneak around, though, I’ve done more on worse.” “Please don’t do more on worse,” Leon says.

[depvotee]

Thinking abt Jacob and how bad he fucking fumbled Jason even though he was more than down to take his ugly face to the courthouse, but... Okey!!!!! I guess!!!!!!!

[theemporium]

[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.

.

[melrodrigo]

friends? - cairo sweet

Cairo Sweet x Reader

Summary: A new class leads to some heated feelings

Warnings: Finally wrote an enemies to lovers, they’re academic rivals ur honor, my writing, cairo being a meanie, quite an excessive use of italics

Word Count: 1k+

A/n: wanted to practice some, tell me what u think? do you want a part two?

“Cairo Sweet.” You read aloud, scrolling down your class list for the next year. Winnie —your best friend since childhood—laughs quietly at the sound.

“Funny name.” She mumbles when you quirk an eyebrow at her.

There was no reason to think ‘Sweet’ was a weird surname; however, Winnie, at the moment, was high out of her mind, so you let it go.

“Jacob Weinstein, Sophie Bell, Anthony Smith—god I don’t know any of these people!” You whisper, the slightest bit of anxiety creeping in.

Your first day is tomorrow, and you’ve sworn to yourself not to check who is in your specific class, wanting to try to spontaneously make new friends.

The keyword was try, because god you were bad at small talk.

Even in her mellowed state, Winnie could tell the nerves were settling in. She reaches out and draws you towards her, sitting so you’re facing each other, only a finger away from completely pressing into one another.

She swirls the lollipop in her mouth around, angling your head to look her in the eyes.

“It’s gonna be fine. Don’t sweat it, please? It makes me sad to see your pretty face in distress.” She spoke evenly, making you feel like you had steady ground to walk on, helping you come back to earth. You let out a deep breath, one you didn’t know you were holding.

“You’ve got to stop flirting with anyone and anything that moves.” You tell her, lightheartedly. She had helped taken the edge off, for now.

-

Bless her heart, Winnie’s reassurance lasted about until she left for her own home, leaving you alone with your thoughts in the big lonely house you had to call home.

It takes a book, or maybe two, for your eyelids to flutter shut, comforted by the smell of old paper and the feeling of coarse parchment.

Walking to school is no different. You listen half-heartedly to whatever Winnie decides to babble about this specific morning, your mind elsewhere.

As you near the doors of your next class, Winnie gives you a quick wink.

“Good luck soldier.” She says, smiling an almost teasing smile.

The minute you push open the doors you’re taken by surprise. It was fairly early, and though you expected no one would be there yet, there was a girl sitting smack dab in the middle of the class. Her head rested on her hands, staring blankly at the chalkboard in front of her.

You walk up silently to the desk behind her, far enough so you weren’t in the first few rows, but close enough that you wouldn’t be sitting with all the slackers in the back.

You slip out a book, kick your feet up to rest on the wooden table, and relaxed slightly. She seemed to pay no mind to you, and didn’t seem to want to pay any mind to you.

After a few pages in, you realize you’ve been reading the same sentence over and over again, not quite comprehending the letters that now looked like a random jumble.

There was a sinking feeling starting in your stomach, as if something were twisting and screaming for your attention.

Table or chair, wind or sun—you couldn’t quite figure out what it was that was bothering you.

Your eyes wandered from the page to your surroundings, trying to pinpoint what it was.

You must’ve been making quite some noise, because the girl in front of you turns around, an obvious distaste on her face. The moment you lock eyes you feel it.

Ah, I know what it is now.

It seems almost silly to say, but you could swear, she was the root of your problems.

There was an almost inimical aura about her, the way she acts—the flick of her eyes, the slight clench in her jaw, her rigid robotic posture—was enough for you to cower.

Of course, you had never even talked to the girl, but you could tell all at once, you weren’t going to be good friends.

“Could you stop moving so much? It’s distracting me.” She tells you, in a manner too rude to be a real request.

Her eyes narrow when you don’t answer. You had elected instead to stare at her freckles, ones that littered her face. Not counting your current feelings for her, you couldn’t deny it, she was beautiful.

However, the way she was acting now was more than enough for you to be sure she was not someone friend-worthy, and you ignored her remark.

In a quiet retaliation, you wait till she titled her head back that you scratch the rug beneath you with the heels of your feet.

It creates a faint screeching sound. When the mysterious girl turns back once again, this time with fury in her eyes, you avert your eyes and look around the room, whistling.

You could tell you were pushing her buttons, but oh boy if it wasn’t just the most fun. If it weren’t for the sound of the door opening you’re positive she would’ve gotten up and confronted you.

In walked a short, scruffy, middle-aged white man whom you concluded must have been the teacher.

“I didn’t expect anyone to be in yet. Students aren’t usually thrilled to learn my class.” He said, sounding pleased with himself to have two new focused students.

“I’m quite excited to see how it’s going to go, I’ve never learned with a favorite author of mine.” The girl spoke, this time with no venom in her voice.

The professor let out a strangled sort of squeak, obviously caught off guard.

Great. She’s also a suck-up.

“Well, i’ll be damned. I’ve never met someone that’s read my book— other than my wife. Although I’m not sure if she even read the whole thing.” He said, failing to hide the excitement and disbelief he was surely feeling.

“I thought it was amazing commentary on modern marriages and love through difficult times.” She said, the light from outside lighting her hair up a lighter shade of brown.

Blah, blah, blah. Someone save me.

As if hearing your prayers, another student entered the room, effectively cutting off that godforsaken conversation. More pupils start filling up the class, and even though you can tell the professor wants to keep talking to the brunette, he steps up to the small platform.

“Good morning class, my name is Mr. Miller, and I’ll be teaching you english literature.” He announces, voice full. You can tell he’d practiced this beforehand.

Your plan to make friends, to both your joy and dismay, get crushed almost immediately. There are no group activities or opportunities to even speak to the other people in the class, all attention directed to the front while Mr. Miller scrabbles on the chalkboard.

The brunette’s name, you learn, is Cairo. She manages to be the first person to raise her hand, to challenge Mr.Miller, to question almost every single thing on the board.

And even though that nagging feeling you felt when you first saw her is gone, you let yourself dissociate and simply stare at the girl. If the class was going to be boring, it wouldn’t hurt to have some eye candy, would it?

“Now, who can tell me exactly why Orwell chose to use these sets of words? What do they give to the overall tone of the book, umm-y/n?” Mr.Miller called, looking from his list of students.

You stir in your chair uncomfortably; you have not been listening to him. The air had turned very cold; your heart picking up its pace.

“I don’t know.” You mumble after a while of every face turned your way, impatience in their gaze. You shrink into your seat.

You hear a little scoff from ahead of you, coming from none other than Cairo Sweet.

You bite back an insult, and try to ignore the disappointed murmur that comes out of Mr.Miller.

Before you know it the hour is gone, and the sound of books stacking against one another breaks you out your daze.

Winnie’s waiting for you outside the door, quite creepily, you tell her as you walk together to your next class; a subject that you both have.

“So, how was it?” She nudges you lightly, smiling expectedly.

You flash her a tight lipped smile, then let it drop when you know she’d be able to see right through you.

You grip her arm and lean in closer, checking around you.

“There was this one girl, she was horrible!” You whisper, a new spark of energy flowing through you at the prospect of telling Winnie about it.

“She was the BIGGEST teachers pet, and she said something so rude to me before class, so like we were sitting and…” You continue to recount the story, trying your hardest to recreate Cairo’s glare.

When you get done, you turn to Winnie, waiting for her to join in on your gossiping.

“So am I going to witness an enemies to lovers type of thing right in front of me?” She sighs, exasperated.

You’re so shocked you don’t follow her into the class, stood rooted to the spot at the door.

“Wait, what?”

[seeingivy]

picnic

sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

(^^make sure you check since this was a double upload and I posted the last one very recently :D)

--

dear head of the cullen clan,  keep evening plans open – im getting off work early and we’re going on a picnic.  coldest regards,  the head of the volturi  (ps. am expecting a very wholehearted appreciation for the fact that it’s coldest regards and not warmest regards, because they are, in fact, vampires and therefore cold. because they don’t have a heart and such.)  (extra ps. this is a link to a shared spotify playlist. i’ll add a song and then you add one. we’ll keep it going.) 

you snort. 

dear aro of the volturi (does he have a last name???),  so much to unpack in one email, yet again. you really know how to keep a girl on her toes.  first and foremost, you are SOOOO ran through. so offended that i wasn’t the person who got to put you on to twilight and whoever it was, I HOEP SHE DIES! if you’re team jacob, you’re a freak.  second, SO VERY FLATTERED that you think i would be carlisle. a little haunting that you think YOU would be aro…but it’s ok cuz former companions to enemies back to lovers in our case would be kind of crazy???  third. done and done. i just added a song so hurry up bc i have like ten other songs i want to add and i am #impatient  see u after work pookie :D,  carlisle cullen  (very appreciative of the cold regards. you are a king among men.) 

his response back is very prompt. 

Never call me pookie again.  (very offended that you think i’d be stupid enough to be team jacob. and direct your murderous rage towards yuuji and my mom, who forced me to watch it in theaters with them.) 

--

you wait for sukuna at the park two blocks down the apartment complex. the sun is hours away from dipping into the horizon, the chilly wind rustling through the trees. you realize now that the red skirt and white sweater might betray you in a few hours but decide that you’ll simply have to steal his jacket when he gets here. 

and you would have already but he’s twenty minutes late.

and while this part of the city is extremely safe, sukuna’s ever constant fear of people attacking you on subway trains and stabbing you in alleyways has instilled an acute fear of strangers in you, which is why you’re gripping the sparkly pink pepper spray he bought you very harshly in your palm right now. 

you think it’s sweet that he bought you a pink one. 

but of course it’s severely ironic that you almost used it on him. 

because he scares the living daylights out of you, by placing his hand around your shoulder from behind. 

“hey. i’m sorry i-” 

“jesus fuck-” 

you instinctively hold the pepper spray up to his face, your hands shaking in front of you. 

“i’ll use it, you pervert!” 

sukuna leans his head to the side, which is when you’re finally able to log that it’s actually him standing in front of you and not a stranger, and you drop your hands in embarrassment. 

“i mean, i’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t doll face but–” 

“oh my god, sukuna. i thought you were trying to rob me!” 

“i’m smarter than that. the only thing inside your purse is lip gloss, which has very little value to me.” sukuna responds, dropping the little basket at his feet and taking the little stalk of flowers out of the top handle. 

“i’ll have you know that it’s actually sold out in every store right now. so you could make bank if you sold it.” 

“don’t tempt me. and for your sake, i’ll accept the apology you didn’t give me for just trying to rob me of my eyesight and for calling me a pervert? i’m getting really tired of the age gap jokes, y/n.” sukuna responds, as he lifts your hands at your sides and places the stalk of flowers in your hand. 

you give him a big smile as you press your nose to the flowers, the scent fresh in your nose. and sukuna props down, setting a billowing white blanket on the ground before he taps the spot next to him and signals for you to sit next to him. 

“who needs eyes?” you joke, as you squeeze his hands and set the flowers down next to the little basket. 

“me, dipshit. how else am i supposed to look at you?” 

you cover your hands with your cheeks as you watch him place all of the little things inside the basket next to you, laying them out perfectly. it’s albeit a weird assortment – two wine glasses, perfectly wrapped sandwiches, a mini-cake, and strawberry lemonade. 

“well, stop perceiving me. this is so weird!” you murmur. 

it’s enough to catch his attention and stop him in his tracks. 

“what?” 

the question makes you pause. and a little embarrassed. it was a little harsh to say while you were joking.

“oh, i mean…i didn’t mean it like that! i was making a joke about perceiving because eyes…vision…and i almost took your vision away! and you perceive with your eyes, because how else would you see…” 

sukuna smiles, before shaking his head, and continuing spilling out the last of the contents – a set of gouache paints and two little small canvases. and he drops to his feet, yanking his shoes off, before sitting flat on the blanket and gesturing for you to join him. 

“there’s no way in hell that was what you meant. but we’ll ignore that for the time being.” sukuna responds, hiking his legs to his chest and gesturing towards the spread he just put out. 

you tilt your head to the side in confusion. 

“you look very pretty today.” sukuna responds. 

“thanks! you too!” 

he narrows his eyes. 

“uh huh. well, pick what we do first. the paint, the sandwiches, or the weird wine glass cake.” 

“the wine glass cake? like from tiktok?” you ask. 

“correct. i’m really bad at…cute dates. so…i did some research.” 

sukuna refuses to look at you. because after admitting it, he’s suddenly busied himself with reading the back of the box of paints, like it’s the most riveting, intriguing thing he’s ever read in his life. 

but the pink flush that’s creeping down his neck betrays him entirely, as you reach forward and push the little box down. and sukuna’s already glaring at you. 

you place your chin on the top of his knees, reaching for one of his hands and smiling. 

“you did research for a date?” 

“you can choke on your spit.” 

you grin. 

“you really know how to turn a girl on.” 

“you’re filthy.” 

you grin. 

“and you’re actually so precious, i–” 

“don’t call me precious, y/n.” he whines, as he reaches forward to flick on your forehead. 

you smile as you sit by his side, tucking the folds of your skirt under your leg as you reach for both of the wine glasses and hand him one. 

“so how humbling was it to have satoru explain all this to you?” you ask. 

he sneers. 

“don’t even ask. he’s like the biggest nuisance i’ve ever met in my life. top ten worst moments of my life.” sukuna responds. 

“i’m flattered you humbled yourself to him for me.” 

“i actually asked suguru. they’re like…two peas in a pod, they can’t do shit without each other. the paints and stuff they gave me and the nice basket too.” 

“that’s sweet of them. remind me to send them something later to thank them.” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“no need. they were more than happy to give it up for you.” 

“ah yes. i hear they’re big fans of this camping bag story. the scouts honor and the fake story we had to tell them makes a lot more sense now.” you respond. 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“okay, you know what? sue me. i was like sixteen sleeping next to a girl for the first time. god forbid i enjoyed myself. and i don’t know why they’re all so hyperfixated on that story because it was a very normal thing to assume when you’re asked that question.”  

you snort. 

“and you say you’re not a pervert…” 

sukuna leans forward, his eyes flitting down to his lips before he looks back up at you. and he can tell that you’re in a mood, that you’re trying to push his buttons by annoying him. 

“you know i despise you right?” he whispers. 

you grin, leaning in. 

“is that right?” you whisper back. 

“oh yeah. you irritate me.” 

there isn’t even a shred of earnestness in the words he’s uttering. you know he doesn’t mean them. 

“keep going.” you respond, as he presses a warm kiss to the side of your cheek. 

“you’re a nuisance.” – a kiss to your forehead. 

“an irritation.” – a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“like a fucking thorn in my side.” – and a kiss to the sweet spot right in your neck and his hand snaking up your thigh, which makes you nearly keel your head back from the sensation. 

you place your hands on his cheek and pull him back, face flushed and his eyes nearly glazed over. 

“are you crazy?” you whisper. 

“what?” he asks. 

“we’re in public, dumbass. you can’t just start trying to rile me up.” 

sukuna leans back, obliging. 

“so you admit it? i was riling you up?” 

“oh, shut up.” 

you reach for the sandwiches and unpeel one for sukuna. before he takes it, he places a tiny white box in your lap. 

you frown. first the fancy date but the jewelry too? 

“sukuna. you didn’t–” 

“just open it. i’m impatient and i’ve been waiting all day. and i actually think you’ll like it. otherwise, you’re ungrateful and rude and you hate me.” sukuna responds. 

you give him a tight lipped smile before you open the little box and actually smile. 

it’s a dainty silver chain – the exact same as sukuna’s from the chain-links, but the build is a little thinner. and right at the center, a little charm of a star. 

you reach forward for his chain, dangling around his collarbone. and surely enough, in addition to the original charm he had of an interlocked circle, there’s a star charm added right next to it. 

“you always reach for it. when you’re talking or when we’re kissing. figured i’d get you your own since you’re such a big fan.” 

“you are so…” 

“perfect? sexy? the father of your children?” 

“i was thinking adorable. can i answer d for all of the above?” you respond. 

sukuna grins. 

“survey says yes, princess.” he responds. 

you yank the chain from the little box and hand it to him, before turning around for him to secure it on you. his fingers tickle against the nape of your neck, accompanied by a warm kiss, before he taps your shoulders to signify that he’s done. 

“you know. you really are perceiving me right now.” you respond. 

“and how’s that?” 

“i know you’re obsessed with me and pay attention to every word i say.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“obviously.” 

you jab at his side. 

“i mean, i know you’re doing this because i mentioned picnics yesterday and always feeling left out. sure you could put two and two together that he never really bought me any nice gifts or anything when i said he ruined my birthday.” 

“okay, captain obvious. and?” 

you shove him once more, before leaning your head against his shoulder. 

“well, i appreciate it. i know the whole…cutesy painting date isn’t your thing. we won’t have to do it again. and that you…you’re trying to make this whole thing special for me.” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“i’m offended. first and foremost, i always like to eat with you. every time i think that there’s no way you can amaze me more, you find another way to spill food on your clothes.” 

“hey! that’s not true.” 

“you already spilled on the blanket. second, this is a very violent way to eat cake. you literally mess up all the layers by doing that and destroy the piping on the cake which i can admit, i am a fan of. and third, i’m going to paint us as worms, which seems enjoyable to me.” 

you curl your nose. 

“worms?” 

“yeah. what were you going to paint?” 

“i don’t know. but it certainly wasn’t going to be worms. like the park or flowers or something.” 

“boring. i’m going to paint us as slimy worms. and because we made it on this date, you’ll have to agree to put it up in the apartment, even if it’s ugly.” 

“sukuna.” you whine. 

“especially if it’s ugly. it’s a testament to our love.” he responds, dramatically placing his hands on  his chest. 

“you know, you’re so right. worms have been a really defining feature of your relationship.” 

sukuna leans forward and presses a quick kiss to your lips and an additional one on your cheek. 

“you just get me, princess!” 

and he breaks the little joke by lifting one of your hands to his lips, and pressing a kiss on all four of your knuckles before pressing your hand to his cheek. 

“and i have to do special things for a special person.” 

you return the gesture, lifting his tattooed fingers to your lips and doing the same. 

“you know…you’re really good at this type of thing.” you murmur. 

“what do you mean?” 

“i mean, being a boyfriend. and…and being supportive about everything. sometimes i feel like i’m trying really hard to be the best but…just comes naturally to you.” you respond. 

sukuna shrugs. 

“don’t know if i’m perfect but…loving you has always come really easy to me. i don’t really have to think twice about it because these are actually just things i want to do for you.” 

you groan. 

“see! that’s what i’m saying! you always just…say sweet things, do sweet things. sometimes i’m convinced i’m not even half deserving of it, just because sometimes i don’t reciprocate that back.” you respond. 

sukuna leans forward. 

“you know, you actually do though.” 

“as if.” you groan. 

sukuna pauses, before leaning his cheek against the tops of his knees and looking out at the expanse of grass in front of you. you follow his line of vision – to the dog running in the distance, the wide, billowing trees, and the little flower truck on the side – which you now realize is where sukuna copped the flowers from earlier. 

“i mean, this type of thing. that we have, or…or the way i act around you. it means a lot to you because, you…you’ve never had this before. right?” 

“yeah.” 

“well, i haven’t had you before. i know you see me as perfect, but…but when you say that i can tell that you don’t mean it the way my mom or…or yuuji think that i’m perfect. in the untouchable way.” 

you lean forward, cupping the side of his face. 

“sukuna. you’re so touchable.” you joke. 

“you’re disgusting.” 

“you love it.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“yeah, i really do. it does actually mean the world to me that you think i’m perfect how i am and don’t think i’m larger than life.” 

“if anything, your ego could be smaller.” 

sukuna leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“and…and even the other day. i know you were acting squirrely and weird when yuuji was near us and heard us bickering, but i was half convinced that you were going to take his side at the end, when he started saying that stuff about me. because it is true and i have acted a certain way in the past…and, you would have every right to agree with him if you wanted to.” 

you frown. 

“no, i wouldn’t. you’ve never treated me like that and i know you’re being earnest when you say these things to me. this would be a very elaborate way to get into my pants if that was what you were trying to do. and i know it’s not.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“that’s what i’m saying. every other person for me has never given me that benefit of the doubt, but you always do. you were the person who thought to tell me that my grandpa died when you all came to get me and you were the one who wasn’t mad at me. the things you do for me are the same, in equal magnitude, as what i do for you. if this makes you feel good, or…or on top of the world, you have to know that’s how you make me feel too. i’m half convinced that you’re basically made for me at this point the way you get everything right on point.” 

you lean forward and press a lingering kiss to his lips. 

“i really think you’re made for me too, ryomen.” 

sukuna groans, dramatically leaning his head back, before nearly pushing you over and peppering kisses to almost every surface on your face. 

“quit fucking saying my name. you have no idea what that does to me.” 

“i mean, i think i have an idea.” 

sukuna clamps his fingers over your mouth, before pressing a few more lingering kisses to your face and pushing off. and subsequently, picks all of the grass out of your hair as you roll your eyes. 

and after that sukuna, admittedly, very aggressively uses the wine glasses to portion off little slices of the cake and makes it a point to finish off yours when you can’t stomach the sweetness. and true to his promise – sukuna paints the two of you as worms, but at the park, stargazing. 

it’s a little silly, the way he paints it. you were expecting it to be more gory or gross, but it’s so corny that it makes you smile. because he draws the two little worms, but distinguishes between the two of you, by swiping some of your pink paint and adding a little ribbon to the one that’s supposed to be you. 

sukuna explains the stars. because before sukuna had dragged you out of that shitty bathroom bar, it’s what megumi and yuuji said in his drunken mess – he had pointed at two little stars and likened them to him and megumi.

and you’re almost positive that at the time, sukuna found it utterly ridiculous. but now, he understood it – the sentiment. that you and sukuna were two little worms, and two stars, and two little flowers too. 

and to his promise, the two of you decide to place the little canvases you drew at the end of the kitchen counter. 

it’s only then that you realize that you have to go the whole ten miles for sukuna the way he had done for you – countless times again. and that if you were going in blind in trying to make something special, you’d have to take a page out of his book and do some research. 

and there was only one person who could really help you, who you’d rather die than humble yourself to than ask for help. 

regardless of that, you still call sammy the next morning.

--

next part linked here

an: they're about to do it. anyways....there is a very real playlist to match the one that they talk about in the fic -- and it matches the way it described in the fic! so it's interleaved, the first song is a song that sukuna would have added, the second one that y/n added, the third sukuna, so on and so forth. it's linked here! happy listening babies

second an: thank you for the love on the last chapter. it makes my heart really warm bc all of that was actually based on a REAL MAN and real things that I have felt/have said to me and just having people comment that they felt seen by it or it made them feel a certain type of way actually made me really happy and so warm. this blog was one of the first things I did after I stopped being really, really sad and i'm glad that i'm able to share a little joy here and there, if that's what this fic is for you. anyways this is long and sappy and gross and actually I just love you all for enduring the ouchies and the sillies with me a little bit 💌

third an: double upload bc yall were so patient with me :D

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani79 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

[zoewithabba]

Today’s sermon hit just right on point.

Spiritual warfare happens in our minds. And we cannot have a debate with the devil. Adam and Eve talked with the snake and they lost. Why? Because satan is the king of lies. We cannot defend ourselves with “well… in my opinion…” no. He is always coming up with something 90% true 10% false. So it would be so easy for us to fall for it.

Satan tried to tempt Jesus THREE TIMES in the desert even when he knew He was GOD! He knew he had nothing to do with God, he knew he would lose! Yet he tried! What makes you think you will not be tempted in the end???

The only way we can win against satan is with scripture! Just like Jesus did in the desert, when Satan tempted him He said “WRITTEN IS”. The lies can only be won with truth.

And how can we do that? DEVOURING the Scripture! I encourage you to devour the Word until it becomes your thinking.

Ex. If the enemy tells you you don’t matter, answer “"But now, this is what the Lord says— he who created you, Jacob, he who formed you, Israel: ‘Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.’" Isaiah 43:1”

Do not underestimate the power of the mind. We can look up at heaven and fill our thoughts with it, or let hell make us fall just as the enemy wants.

Stay strong!

[s9fti3]

I’m sorry I’m literally begging you PLEASE to do HCs of Paul imprinting on a Cullen!reader !!!

Hi Lovebug!! I hope this is what you hoped for!! :)

‘If you walked in my skin, You’ll feel the jail’- Paul Lahote Headcannons!!

• He hadn’t known that you were is imprint at first, but once he found out, he would try to ignore it and make it go away. The only problem was, it didn’t go away.

• You had been uninterested in him, even more after what was happening between Bella, Edward and Jacob. You had found yourself watching them fight, with Jacob and his gang of friends in the background.

• He would stay silent, but these feelings would get way to overwhelming- crushing him whole. He couldn’t stand it. Anytime he was around you his heart would get heavy and sink, yet be all over the place in his body. The world would go silent as the only thing he could hear was he raging heartbeat. He face would get hot and his body would become heavy, as if begging him to let go and faint. He had to have you, Now.

• The way on how he told you that you are his imprint is pretty basic. While Jacob and Edward were at each other, he grabbed you by your wrist and told you straight up.

• To describe your love trip is enemies to lovers. But not the- ‘I’ve never actually hated you’ type of way, but more so a ‘You choke me, I drown you’ type of love.

• The love was forbidden, everyone knew that, but what’s the fun of following rules. You guys would pretend to hate each other meanwhile a little while after dusk you guys are in the lake, teeth clashing on teeth, you gripping at his bare shoulders as he has a tight hold on your hair.

• While it’s not 100% helpful, Paul will let you drink SOME of his blood. Only if you are about faint or desperate he’ll let you. He finds it a bit painful, so he grabbing at the nearest thing he can find. So I apologize if you walk out with a almost broken hand. He will most likely hunt for you so you can feed.

• You guys hate each others body heat, Your freezing body annoys him and his furnace like body heat annoys you.

[anitalenia]

━━━ .°˖✧ romance tropes ⋆˙⊹

𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑠. 𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑑𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑢𝑏𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑝𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑒, 𝑜𝑟 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑜𝑐𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑒.

╰₊✧ ﾟOTHER LINKS . ྀི ⊹ masterlist | taglist | my library

| prompt help | symbol packs | dividers

˖⁺ ⊹୨ forbidden romance ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character cannot openly be in a relationship with someone for some reason ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ enemies to lovers ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are enemies / in violent opposition to each other in the beginning but gradually end up in love ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ friends to lovers ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are friends first, but end up falling in love with each other ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ dark/taboo tropes ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ romance between two people that is considered inappropriate or wrong/not acceptable in society ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ opposites attract ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are drastically different people/opposite personalities but still somehow love each other ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ unrequited love ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character loves someone who is unattainable for some reason. one sided love. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ fake relationship ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters feel no romantic feelings for one another but are forced to be together. in some cases, they eventually fall in love. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ fish out of water ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character is in an unfamiliar environment and has to adapt. think city girl on a farm. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ soul mates au ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are meant to be together from birth, destiny, or soul ties. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ oblivious to love ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character is clueless about their own romantic feelings towards someone else ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ reverse harem ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ consists of one female protagonist and three or more male love interests. although I have heard varying definitions. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ secret identity ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are in love but one is not being truthful with who they really are/they’re hiding something from their love interest (like spiderman) ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ love triangle ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are in love, but a third party loves one of the characters as well. or, one character is confused between two people who they love (edward x bella x jacob, stefan x elena x damon) ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

━━━ .°˖✧ 𝑻𝑹𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑵𝑬𝑬𝑫 𝑵𝑶 𝑬𝑿𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 ⋆˙⊹ 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇-𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚. 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑗𝑓 𝑖 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑢𝑝 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑚 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑝𝑙𝑒, 𝑠𝑜 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .݁

˖⁺ ⊹୨ marriage ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character is forced to marry another for some reason (arranged marriage) ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ dark past ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character has trauma or pain because of their past, and their love interest helps them heal. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ amnesia / memory loss ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character loses their memory and has to regain their love and memories for another. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ alpha hero ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a male character is overprotective, bossy, jealous, possessive, and have great sexual appeal. think bad boy, biker, ceo fanfics. This can also be military men, superhero’s, men in leadership. a vague category. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ one bed trope ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are forced to share a bed 👅 you should know this one ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ forced proximity ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when two characters are forced into small spaces together or forced to be together in the same room. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ beauty and the beast ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a typically male character is capable of great rage and destructive, sometimes a literal monster, but the fem character loves them beyond their looks and sees the good in them. doesn’t have to be a literal monster. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ in peril tropes ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character is in some sort of crisis and has to be saved by love interest. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ job related tropes ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character is attracted to someone because of their job, or their romance happens at work/ a specific location (corrupt priest, military man, construction worker). can be taboo. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˖⁺ ⊹୨ time travel ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ when a character travels back or forward in time and falls in love with someone from that time period. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

authors note: I am going to be making posts describing each trope individually as well as sub-genres and examples of that trope. I had something similar to this in my notes for my stories and decided to share. there are a lot of tropes out there, so feel free to comment other ones. remember you are loved and important <3

[suppose-i-was-worm]

Dani A(Clone)

**An Arctic Siren Aside**

***Thank y'all for 200 followers!! I look forward to getting to know y'all!***

Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow of Star City, was not easy to startle. He went through too much training, too much pain to not be on the alert all the time. Letting out a breath, he shot his arrow, hitting his far away target with an ease that he was familiar with after so many years.

“Wow, Mister, you sure have good aim!”

Oliver Queen, when startled, screamed like a goat. He spun, looking for an enemy, but instead was met with the curious face of a young girl sitting on the ground behind him, leaning her chin on her fist.

Oliver took a moment to recollect himself.

“Hello, young miss. Can I help you?”

The girl tilted her head.

“I’m looking for my brother. Are you a hero?”

Nodding, Oliver pointed to his bow with the hand not holding it.

“I’m the Green Arrow.”

She didn’t seem impressed.

“Tell me more about your brother? Is he older? Younger? What’s his name?”

“Stranger danger, what’s your name?”

Oliver paused.

“Green Arrow.”

“His name’s John, in that case. John Jacob Jingleheimer Smith.”

“John?”

“His name is my name too.”

By the glint in the girl’s eyes, Oliver was being pranked somehow and neither child was named John. He tried a different approach.

“What does your brother look like?”

“Like me, but a boy.”

Helpful. He knew he was supposed to be kind and gentle with civilian children, but Oliver almost wanted to pick this girl up and shake her until she had useful information.

There was a crunch on the rooftop behind him, and by the sounds it was Arsenal coming to find out what was taking him so long.

“Oh wow, you’re cool!”

The girl bounced up and darted around Oliver to circle Roy, looking him up and down.

“Now there’s a hero! Baseball cap? Clean shaven? Be still my beating heart!”

Oliver’s only solace was that Roy looked about as off-put as he himself was.

“Can I be a hero? My brother’s a hero, we’d find each other that way!”

Roy smiled at the kid.

“Well, it takes a lot to be a hero, you know? What would your hero name be?”

“Phantom, like my brother. And it’s fine! I’ve got powers, see?”

The girl lifted off the ground, hovering, and crossed her legs underneath her to sit in the air.

“I can do some other stuff too, but the flight is the coolest.”

Oliver looked at Roy, who seemed to be seriously thinking about the girl’s proposition.

“Arsenal, you can’t- What about her parents?”

The girl’s float drooped a little.

“They’re… gone. It’s just me and my brother, and I don’t know where he is. I’m from the Infinite Realms, and I can’t get back without him.”

The Infinite Realms sounded like Justice League Dark shit.

“Let me introduce you to the Teen Titans, then. Phantom, right?”

Phantom lit up, and Oliver stared in shock at his teammate.

Batman would be so pissed at him.

~~~

Dick Grayson smiled at the girl in front of him. Damian had convinced him to come meet her, claiming that she was an ‘integral part of the team’, only a few weeks into her tenure with the Titans.

Phantom smiled back, too sharp teeth on display.

“Hello, Phantom. I’m Nightwing, Robin’s brother. How are you today?”

“Stellar, thanks!” She did a little twirl midair. “How are you, Mister Nightwing sir?”

“I’m doing well. I heard that you didn’t allow for a DNA sample? It would make life in the tower much easier if we had your biometrics.”

She scowled, suddenly dropping to the ground and crossing her arms. She was short, for a sixteen-year-old, but Dick was still a little thrown off by the ferocious look on her face.

“Don’t you Gotham folks know when no means no? Consent is sexy and you are not. I’ve met heroes with better etiquette than any of you.”

He held his hands up in a gesture of peace.

“I won’t force you. Who’s your favorite hero?”

Immediately, as if a switch had been flipped, Phantom was up in the air again, grinning like a loon.

“Phantom Prime, of course! My brother is the strongest person I know.”

Kid Flash looked up from where he’d been assembling a puzzle.

“You met Superman the other day, though?”

Phantom scoffed.

“My brother could kick his ass. Ancients, I'd kick his ass if you guys would let me. He deserves an ass-kicking.”

“Why?”

Dick would admit he was just as confused as Kid Flash.

“Vibes.”

“Vibes? What kind of vibes?”

“Fruitloop vibes.”

“That doesn’t make much sense, Phantom.”

“Sure it does! Hey, Superboy!”

~~~

Kon-el startled at being caught listening in to the conversation. He turned to address Phantom from the tower kitchen.

“What’s up?”

“Is Superman’s secret identity rich?”

“Uh, no?”

“Does he have a lair?”

“Kinda?”

“How is he about clones?”

Kon must have made a face, because Phantom pointed at him.

“Ah-ha! Those vibes! Clone hater vibes.”

Stepping out of the kitchen, Kon tried to downplay the issue.

“I mean, he’s gotten better, but…”

“Nope! He’s still an asshole and deserves an ass-kicking.”

Nightwing held up a hand like a kid in a schoolroom.

“You have an opinion about clones?”

Phantom nodded decisively.

“My brother says that clones didn’t ask to be made, just like any other kid. It’s not their fault, it’s the fault of their creator. He says that the sins of the father should not be visited on the sons.”

Kon stepped closer, curious.

“But. Isn’t it a violation? If someone makes a clone without the donor’s knowledge?”

Phantom looked over at him with big, sad eyes.

“My sister says that’s between the donor and the creator. No kid should be painted as the one in the wrong when they were a victim, too.”

Nightwing spoke up again, sounding a little out of his depth.

“You deal with a lot of clones?”

She grinned, and Kon could tell there was a secret behind the twinkle in her eyes.

“One or two.”

~~~

Dani heard a knock on the frame of her open door and turned to greet her visitor. It was getting late- she was pretty surprised that anyone was still awake.

“Hey Superboy! How can I help?”

“Would you-‘ he looked sheepish. ‘Would you really beat up Superman for me?”

She cracked her knuckles. Someone had said that Kon-el was a clone, but she hadn’t really expected him to admit to it. They weren’t even properly teammates- he was part of Young Justice, not Teen Titans.

“I’d beat up anybody to protect the honor of clone-kind, Superboy.”

“Why?”

Making a split second decision, Dani leaned in close.

“Can you keep a secret, Kon-el?”

“Yeah?”

“You’d better. Us clones have to stick together, amiright?”

Superboy looked at her, stunned, and she winked.

“Just don’t tell the bats. Batman has both rich and secret lair vibes.”

[24kvlaks]

Night time massacre!

Slashers x Asylum therapist GN! Reader

TW: Midnight Angst, Heavy Angst. Emotional Hurt! Manipulation, Lying,

(Slashers: Gabriel May-Hannibal Lecter-Norman Bates-Brahms Heelshire-Jacob Goodnight)

Your plan was to get the slashers to trust you, that was what you were instructed by your peers and boss. And it was a hefty deal of money. And being a little middle class or below it, you needed the money. And when you were done you left.

Norman bates

His mother kept telling him it was a trick, utter buffoonery! But he didn’t listen, he insisted it was love. And that you felt the same way!

The way you would bat your eyelashes at him. How you’d lightly wake him up from his solitude.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off you practically sticking his head through the bars as your feet tapped the cement floor of the halls.

He’d watch how you step, notice a pattern in your walks, grow shy when you’d pay attention and bring up what he said in far later notices.

One day he’d even take it up to himself to make you a mattress flower, ripping his mattress up with raw strength and shaping it into a flower with his teeth and peeling cement off the walls.

He planned to give it too you Friday, so you won’t have to come back the next day and think about his proposal while you were on your two day break.

But Friday never came, you weren’t there. He thought, maybe you were sick. Oh my! Maybe you were sick! You probably caught the flu. Maybe it’s pneumonia, god you could die! No, no, no, no, his precious angel couldn’t die before he confessed.

He didn’t sleep, he didn’t eat, he didn’t even listen too his mother. He thrashed out on his own. Growing agitated after days passed. Monday, where were you? Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday. And on and on. He couldn’t fathom the fact that you were gone, Completely.

Hannibal Lecter (series)

He knew you didn’t care for him, he acted in such a job himself. He knew, oh god he knew, but he was so lonely he couldn’t help but enjoy the company.

He loved everything about it, from the clacking of your shoes as you stepped in the room to the way your eyebrows tilt when you were confused.

How you’d laugh at his stubble seriousness or jokes that were “so unfunny that they were actually funny because it wasn’t!” You stated.

Mesmerizing his favorite color, his phrases, adapting some of his manipulating habits.

He began to fantasize, creating this delusional realities of intimacy of you two in his mind while he slept uncontrollably.

He began to obsess, Thursday he mesmerized your schedule, trying to learn about you. But then Friday came and you weren’t there.

It was hard to keep up with time in the asylum so he just assumed you were off on Friday’s

Until you were off on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and back to Thursday.

Maybe you got hurt, best case scenario rather then the image in his head of you getting murdered by one of his enemies.

The image of you being eaten and cut up like he did to his victims, a piece of your jewelry hung up as decoration.

His mind became distraught, keeping his usually calm demeanor but eye bags were clearly shown. Agitation in his voice and hatred as he talked to the new therapist.

Gabriel May

For a while he didn’t trust you, he didn’t believe someone would try to understand a “parasite.”

He was utterly surprised when you called him Gabriel instead of “IT” when you called him by his normal He/him pronouns instead of “a parasite.”

He grew a little agitated at the fact that you made your way into his little heart, giving him more time then his sister to talk to him.

Letting him take turns to draw with his sister as if he was still a little kid.

Once you talked to his sister longer than you’d normally would, he’d show verbal aggression. Going occasionally silent, or making tiny whispers to his sister, threats of any kind.

He began blocking out his sister, so while you thought you were talking to her you were actually talking to him.

Learning what you’d tell her while she would usually block him out due to her command.

He’d wake up early so he could take control.

Make her hallucinate so she’d be scared and have a fearful nap.

Make her have extra long nightmares, just so she could complain about them to you which made him angry.

Watch as your eyebrows furrowed when you would talk to him and scold him about what he did.

But something that made his heart flutter is when you always forgave him.

Thursday he did it again, he terrorized her. And you scolded him and Friday he was supposedly going to give you his apology for attention.

But you didn’t come, maybe you were sick, it could only be a cold, right?

Maybe you left him, just like his mother, just like how his sister tried to block him out, just like how the doctors tried to take him out. Just like everyone else in his life.

No! You couldn’t have you promised said you would come back the next day.

Why would you lie? You had no reason too. You wouldn’t just abandon him, would you?

He started to listen in when his sister would talk to the guards. Hearing something he wish he didn’t.

No that can’t be true, they left.

Brahms Heelshire

He quickly became attached. As soon as you walked on the door, watching you eye the cracked up doll and him. Watching you observe the two.

Asking him normal questions and not pondering him to leave the doll.

Asking him how the doll was, did it chip again? You could help him fix it.

Those words were like music to his ears, as you fixed it, he was eyeing you down. Watching how your hands delicately took the doll from him as if it was a real boy.

Calling them both Brahms.

Saying hello and goodbye to both of them, complimenting both of them, acknowledging them. Seeing them as two in one. Instead of seeing the doll as some parasite.

Eventually Brahms behavior became more erratic more irrational. He was openly jealous, he always asked about other patients and what you’d talk about with them.

Angered how’d you actually talk about them in such a delightful manner.

Angered at how you had mostly male patients.

One day he took it to far, as you went to leave him stating “I’m off to another patient, have a nice rest of your day Brahms.” He flipped, the chains on his hands almost breaking as he tried to flip the table over it shaking as he used all his might eventually going so in the spam of little minutes.

He was punished, he wasn’t allowed to see you until Friday. So Monday-through-Friday he didn’t see you. He was driven crazy when you didn’t show up at the end of the week.

He began to get angry. Immediately he assumed you left him. How could you possibly love a murderous monster!? So foolish of him believing someone could actually love him.

You left him, without saying goodbye. Just like his mother and father and all the tiny bit off friends he had before he was locked away as a boy.

But he was going to promise you. “He’d be good, he will”

Jacob Goodnight

He didn’t see the evil in your eyes, you looked uncanny, you looked sweet.

You respected his beliefs and you never told him yours out of respect. You respected his mother.

You’d give him compliments about his different color eyes, about his height, about his cheeky smile.

You’d acknowledge how much he knew about his religion, you’d pray with him, even if it wasn’t something you believed in or was.

You’d compliment his Christ, you’d learn and admire.

Religious talks soon became random chats, you’d talk about random things Like God and the color of the sky.

You’d talk about your favorite colors, and help him figure out his.

Soon enough to your surprise he became obedient. Randomly, he’d do anything you’d say. Bow to your every wishes.

“Lift your left hand up and stick your pinky down.” You’d test the guards theory, and to your surprise he did exactly what you commanded.

He was obsessed. From the way you smelled to the way your hair was. Your eyes, your nose, your pointy ears.

He wasn’t exactly too bright to know your schedule. But he knew exactly what time you’d come.

He’d count, he’d create a rhythm. Just to know and remember.

One day after all that practice he finally learned his favorite color, and he was planning to tell you but it never came.

And days passed, and immediately he was angered. He’d attack everyone who tried to talk to him about you in a disrespectful way.

He’d pray for you to come back, and when that didn’t work he’d pray for you to be safe.

He couldn’t let you disappear without gods protection.

He’d repeat, “Dear Heavenly Father, Dear God. Please protect them, and if you wish bring them back to me.”

Disclaimer! I do not mean to be disrespectful of his religion I am a Christian myself! I just wanted to make it opt for people with other religions! <3

[wlntrsldler]

marvel masterlist

bucky barnes:

series

DOPPELGÄNGER: Bucky has only been in love once and it was before he was put in ice and way before he became the Winter Soldier. What happens when Bucky meets Y/N, the exact look alike of the girl he used to love? (Social Media AU) (WIP) DISCONTINUED

ROSES: Bucky tells Y/N he’s the Winter Soldier. The next day, he’s taken by the government and that’s the last Y/N sees of him... until they cross paths again. But what if Bucky doesn’t remember her? (COMPLETED)

TO BE SO LONELY: When Bucky and Y/N signed up for this online penpal system, they never expected to grow attached to the other person behind the screen. (COMPLETED)

FALLING: Bucky has been distant lately. Y/N doesn’t know why. (COMPLETED)

THE BREAKUP CHRONICLES: A collection of imagines that can be read independently or as a whole fic about Y/N and Bucky’s relationship post-breakup. DISCONTINUED

one shots

NOT MY TYPE AT ALL: Y/N isn’t Bucky’s type but honestly, he doesn’t care about that anymore. (Not My Type At All by Jacob Whitesides)

SLOW DANCING IN A BURNING ROOM: Y/N knew that Bucky had to leave someday but that didn’t mean that she was ready when the day came. (Slow Dancing In A Burning Room by John Mayer)

CLOSE TO YOU: Requested! Bucky loves Y/N, he didn’t mean to snap at her. (Close To You by Rihanna)

LAST KISS: 1940’s Bucky tells Y/N that he got his orders. (Last Kiss by Taylor Swift)

KISS ME SLOWLY: Bucky keeps running away from Y/N. He doesn’t want to get attached. (Kiss Me Slowly by Parachute)

FALLING LIKE THE STARS: Bucky and Y/N fall in love but he’s sent off to fight the war. (Falling Like the Stars by James Arthur)

HARD PLACE: Bucky and Y/N can’t stop fighting and it’s getting too much. (Hard Place by H.E.R)

F&MU**: Bucky and Y/N hate each other… but they can’t stop letting their anger out through sex. (F&MU by Kehlani) 18+!

MAY I ASK: Y/N and Bucky see each other for the first time since the breakup. Y/N confronts Bucky on why he ended things. (May I Ask by Luke Chiang)

I WILL BE FOUND:  Bucky finally found the place where he belongs when he met Y/N but at times, he wished that he could somehow take the life he used to have and magically fit it into the life he had now. (I Will Be Found by John Mayer)

10 AM: REQUESTED! Bucky is hopelessly in love with Y/N. He stops himself from saying anything to her because he’s afraid of getting hurt again, not knowing how much more he can take in his lifetime. (10AM by Keaton Henson)

FLAWLESS**: Bucky and Y/N are friends with benefits. They found a new thing to play with in the bedroom. The Winter Soldier. (Flawless by The Neighbourhood)

CHERIE: Bucky doesn’t understand why Y/N is always so happy. He never thought he would be one of the people who got entranced by her until he was. (Cherry by Harry Styles)

TEE SHIRT:  Bucky and Y/N walk into a music shop and she hears the song her and her ex used to love playing in the background. (Tee Shirt by Birdy)

I’M LONELY: lex’s writing challenge! enemies to lovers; “Will you wait for me?” (i’m lonely by luz)

LOUD: Every time Y/N is afraid, she plays her music too loudly but this time, Bucky is there to comfort her.

BUBBLES: Short Bucky imagine about bubbles.

DOCTOR ME UP: Y/N is Bucky’s doctor when he wakes up in Wakanda. 

WHITE DRESS: Bucky loves her, so so much, especially as she walks down the aisle in her white dress. 

SHAWARMAS: Bucky has a crush on Y/N, the cashier from the Shawarma place. 

NO CLUE: Y/N and Bucky hate each other. Nobody knows why. Whenever someone asks, the pair just say, “I have my reasons.” Some think that something happened between them when Bucky was in hiding. Some think that Bucky did something to Y/N when he was the Winter Soldier. Some think that there’s no actual reason- they simply hate each other.

RITUALS: You died on a mission and all Bucky has left is the voicemail you left him before you got on the Quinjet. 

FAMILIARITY: Love is a foreign concept to Bucky. 

peter parker:

JEALOUS: Where Peter tells Y/N that he’s Spiderman and things go down. (Jealous by Labrinth)