#since the rangers are back at it again it's about that time
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nicnevans · 2 days ago
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Every character I have for GW2 was made this year I'm new I got here like a month and a half ago hiiii and their lore and stories are all still forming but I'm very fond of all of them TvT so thank you OP for this opportunity to "formally introduce" them all
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Duilliche
AKA The Main Character boy. He's doing the plot pretty much as-written, and the guy I spend most of my playtime on. (He's currently loitering at the start of LWs2 while I work on some fics and let the plot-so-far simmer for a while, what's in store for him in future? That's a problem for future me) He's a necromancer with a heart of gold, unflinching belief in the general goodness of the world and its people, and an earnestness that is either extremely endearing or extremely annoying depending on your perspective. He walks almost everywhere he goes, and he walks slowly, unless there's some reason he needs to go fast; as far as he sees it, his memories will impact the Dream and show future generations of sylvari about the world, so he wants those memories to be vivid and qualitative. One key part of his lore so far is that he wasn't actually autumn-coloured when he awoke. He scared the daylights out of everyone in the grove instead by starting off green and slowly fading out to autumnal reds and oranges over time. A lot of people probably thought he was dying 😂
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Callainn
The first of several "companion OCs", Cal is like... the direct opposite of Dill in a lot of ways. She's a guardian, stern and aloof, and although her sense of justice is very strong and she places a high value on bravery and valour, my running HC is that when push came to shove and the fight against Zhaitan was getting real, she ran away. It's something she struggles to forgive herself for; that was her moment, as a warrior and protector. She had one job, and instead of doing it, she gave in to fear and fled. I've not yet decided what she's been doing since then (she's gonna have to redeem herself at some point, but I have yet to decide what path she's going to take to it.)
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Dreaghann & Lusanaisig the twins
A mesmer and a ranger respectively, Drea and Lus shared a pod and a dream (although Drea actually awoke several hours after Lus, a fact she's forever frustrated by; she's now the most insufferable morning person you'll ever meet, determined never to oversleep again) They're rarely seen apart from one another and very protective of each other. Neither wants to learn how it feels to lose someone who's been by your side since before you were born. Dreaghann is sharp-witted and sharp-tongued. She's highly intelligent and refuses to back down when she knows she's right, or that her plan is the most effective one, even when dealing with someone who outranks her. Lusanaisig is much more easy-going and far more concerned with keeping the peace than his sister, but also far more naive. He smooths out the jimmies she rustles, and she saves him from getting scammed by unscrupulous traders in Lion's Arch.
The whole gang is sort of coexisting in my world state, with Cal, Drea, and Lus taking supporting roles because I Do Not have enough braincells for multiple AUs for different commanders, and all of the lore is still a bit in a foundational/still-forming state while I-the-player acclimatise to the world and its lore, but I'm very fond of the little collection of shrubberies I've accumulated. I don't RP really, I just play with my little guys and their stories like dolls in my head, so none of them have particularly interesting or novel backstories, but they're fun To Me :>
I did this last year and it was pretty fun. So let's do it again.
Not that you need a reason to talk about your characters, but I know some people can be a little bit shy about holding their kids up to the sun and going "Look what I made!". Reblog and show off any characters you made this year. Tell us their story, why you made em, where they fit in to your Tyria!
<3
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an-honest-puck · 3 months ago
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the ep dropped last year, but I'm still lowkey obsessed with Henrik Lundqvist's interview with Mika, but specifically Hank chirping Mika about his age...
Henrik: You always felt older to me- remember how many times we talked about your age? Mika, sighing in recognition of the chirp but with a smile on his face: Yes, yeah. Henrik: I always thought you were like four, five years older because you were so mature, but probably also because you were in the League so early. Mika: Yup.
--- later ---
Mika: It's a weird feeling, being just turned 30 and being now the- one of the- Henrik, grinning: You're only 30? I thought you were 34. Mika, sighing in resignation but smiling: Yeah, I know. We just add- that's Hank years. Henrik: Always four years more! Mika: I'm 30 plus tax.
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livelaughlovesubs · 3 months ago
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~ 06.10 - Boothill ~
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Dom!reader x sub!boothill - reader is gender neutral
Warning: a little dark, dubcon, sadistic (?) reader, first time (doing smt sexual), finger sucking, gun play, teasing, dacryphilia, dry orgasm, cumming untouched, hair pulling, use of chemicals, choking, violence, vomiting, kidnapping
~ Word count: 7k ~
Nini!rant: went for a slightly different vibe this time~ how is it?
Kinktober list 2024
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“Hah, another fake galaxy ranger? Who’s tryna impersonating us this time?” Boothill lowered his hat to hide his face while he stared at a wanted poster. Still clean, it must be a new commission. At first, he only wanted to check his own bounty, when he noticed another one right next to his.
‘Galaxy ranger […….], wanted, dead or alive, bounty [1.380.000]’
Consider him surprised when he didn’t recognize the name or the face. Him, the one who owns a data bank to support his memories. It could only mean that it’s an imposter. Having a fake ranger’s wanted poster hung right next to his is pretty humiliating, are they looking down on him? “This might be interesting.” The cowboy smirked to himself, yanking off the poster from the wall while he continued his pursuit.
This was going to be a side job, to yearn some cash for his good ol’ alcohol: Asdana’s white oak, about 6% alcohol and fragrant like the fields after rain. A classic among the malts. Pair that with a bullet to match and consider yourself drinking the holy water from the garden of Eve. The bass and gunpowder will bring an exquisite taste only folks with fine tongues can taste. If he had to give a deeper description, the word mellowness would match mighty fine.
Just thinking about the taste raised his spirits. Since he was going to catch you soon and get compensated big, it wouldn’t hurt to celebrate like this once in a while. Don't get him wrong, this isn't indulging, it's enjoying life. Which is why he was standing in front of a bustling bar, his favorite one. The minute he walked in, he felt his mind be at ease, like a ship with smooth sailing. Everything stayed as cozily as he remembered, the same old barkeeper, music, and seats. As if this was his second home, he popped down right next to the counter and put his arm up onto the bar table.
“Boss, here! The usual for me, you know, the lit stuff.” Boothill smirked, his other hand was tapping his knee slowly. “It’s you again, one Asdana without ice?” The man behind the counter seems to remember that very cowboy, as well as his usual order. To that boothill answered, “Of course, I take my Asdana neat.” Then the barkeeper nodded, as if to acknowledge it, commenting, "You are as lively as ever, sir." Before walking off to get the bottle.
Lively? Huh, it's not a word he'd use to describe himself, but it isn't bad. No, not bad at all. In the meantime the cyborg looked around the establishment, seeing many new and old faces that bring back memories. Among those, there was a single shadow that intrigued him. It was the person sitting next to him.
You were there already when he came, sipping away at your drink as your eyes darted around aimlessly. A cocktail of some kind, fading from black to red. If he had to guess, probably hangman’s blood? One of the specialties of this bar, he knows the owner is proud of that drink. It’s pretty strong, you must be good at dealing with alcohol. Maybe you'd be a splendid drinking buddy, he thought to himself, grinning from ear to ear. Meeting new people and making connections never hurts anyone.
Suddenly he moved his chair closer to yours, opening his mouth and attempting to strike up a conversation with you. “Hey, you there, I haven’t seen ya’ around here. This your first time here?” He tried his best to give you a gentle smile, that ended up with him showing off his sharp teeth. For some, he might have appeared threatening even. “...Yeah, it is. I heard that the drinks here are excellent, which is why they have so many regulars.” You stirred around in your glass, mixing the two colors.
“That’s right, you see, I consider myself a regular too.” Boothill chuckled, by the looks of it, he was quite proud of that title. “Oh right, name’s boothill, you can call me that. How ‘bout we drink a lil’ together?” He smirked, it was still a rather awkward smile. Though luckily you didn’t seem to mind. “Boothill huh? I’ve heard that name around, you are notorious for your misdeeds against the IPC.” You turned around to face him, returning his gesture by smiling as well.
At least he thinks you did, since he saw your face twitch. However, he couldn’t see it clearly due to the effects of the lighting. That was why you looked like a shadow from afar. The cyborg scoffed a bit, appearing amused by your words, “misdeeds you say? Cutie, my actions may not be innocent but I only do honest work.” A low chuckle reached his ears, followed by your response to his rather playful comment, “Of course, I understand. You galaxy rangers are brimming with righteousness after all.”
For some reason, your voice was as clear as day, despite the bustling noises emerging from the background. Many people were talking among themselves, so despite you not speaking especially loud, he still heard you perfectly. It was almost as if he filtered the other sounds out for yours only. At first glance, you seemed friendly, kind even. Yet there was this strange feeling surrounding you, he couldn’t get rid of the lingering suspicions. How did you know his occupation? Sure, his name was pretty infamous, though was it normal to know this much?
“…I guess the number on my bounty isn’t just for show.” He joked, before letting out some breathy laughs. Instead of paying attention to his words, you stared at his hand, each finger was out of metal. A artificial arm, or to be precise, a cyborg. Nothing you didn’t know. Suddenly you raised your finger, pointing in his direction. Boothill frowned a little, taken aback by it. “Your drink, it’s coming.” After a moment you explained, and he turned his head around.
Who would have guessed, you were right, the bartender was just putting down the liquor as he chirped, “One Asdana?” Before winking at the male and leaving the two of you alone. “Ah, yeah, that's for me.” The cowboy mumbled, about to take the old-fashioned glass when you stopped him. “Wait a second, I have something for you.” The moment your sentence ended, you began fumbling with your bag, apparently searching for something.
He was a bit irritated but listened to you anyway, taking his hand back. Waiting like this was a tiny bit annoying, but he put up with it. About a minute later, you were holding a shiny object in your hand. Without giving him any warnings, you dropped the said object into his drink. The beverage splashed against the glass due to the impact, only a single drop landed outside before the liquid calmed down.
Now, a bullet was slowly sinking to the bottom of the glass. Its color matched his drink, it had a golden gleam. “Holy forkeroni…” He gasped, this bullet, it was- “9 millimeters caliber, 147 grain, and the bottom's round as a pie. An eternal classical, am I right?” After explaining something obvious to him, you finally showed your face by leaning forward. The lightbulb brightened your features, exposing your identity to the cowboy. A daring move, a risky gamble with cards not everyone would have played. You stared right into his black pupils without a hint of fear, and his response to your boldness was as expected. “This information, you are...!” Immediately, the cyborg grabbed you by your collar and yelled, “Son of a nice lady- you are the one from that wanted poster! The fake galaxy ranger!” He shook his head, then demanded, “Fudge me… don’t fork around and answer, how do you know so much about me?” What a serious tone he had, he must be feeling threatened.
Your eyes darted down to his metallic hand, the same one you were eyeing up and down earlier was now clenching your shirt. Instead of taking him seriously, you were calm and collected, taking one step after another. Seeing you so relaxed, he felt a hint of anger building within him and used more force. It was almost enough to lift you off your seat. Gosh, look how much contempt he suddenly has for you when he was so nice to you mere moments ago.
“Please don’t cause a scene, sir boothill, I was only being nice by catering your drink to your taste. What's the problem?” You cooed at him like he was a child throwing a tantrum, playing the naive card. This playful tone of yours reminded him awfully of his own, yet at that moment it annoyed him. “You are dodging my question.” He stressed his words, furrowing his brows and tightening his grip. But he jerked a little when you clasped your hand over his, your touch was warm in comparison to his.
Then you spoke in a calm tone, “Shall we take this outside? There are many watching eyes here. I believe you wouldn’t want to get banned from your favorite bar.” The way you talked suggested you knew much more, a lot more than what he does about you. After all, you knew some private details about his preferences and hobbies. In conclusion, you must have been waiting for him here, at this very bar.
Boothill still hesitated for a moment, before eventually letting go of you. He clicked his tongue as if he regretted your meeting today. In truth, he wasn't in the mood for a fight, despite everything he came here to have fun. Your clothes were now wrinkled and slightly messy, disheveled would also be a fitting term, but you didn’t really bother with straightening them out, rather, you were amused by his hot temper. The boy thought about the situation and the problem he was facing. He couldn't read you at all, what a tough nut to crack.
It would be smart to sort out his thoughts, so first things first, he has to find out how you obtained all this information about him. What was your deal and reason? Then he should think about how to clean up this chaos in case it becomes messy. Even so, startling the other guests wouldn’t be good, that’s why he should contain himself for now. “Fine, lead the way, and don’t try to pull any funny business with me.” He clasped his arms in front of his chest, glaring at you with nothing but contempt. To be honest he looked like a cheeky cat instead of a dangerous lion.
“Don’t look at me like I’m some kind of criminal~” You jest, grinning from ear to ear as you sipped at your cocktail. “Oh yeah? Why do you have quite the sum on your head then.” The cowboy countered your statement, squinting his eyes a little. To think you lost his trust this fast, he was a cautious fellow. “Haha, you hurt me. Don’t you have a bounty on your head as well? If so, why can’t I be righteous too?” He shuddered a little at your words, by the looks of it, you could also be a crazy stalker who invaded his privacy. Heck, he would almost bet on you knowing his head's value in and out.
At this point your voice alone was enough to scratch him the wrong way, you were really testing his patience. Boothill dismissed your statement with a groan, “Don’t compare us, I’m not a motherfudgin' fake ranger like you.” You blinked a few times at his words, before laughing out loud. He didn't like how you reacted. “Ahaha~ yes yes, of course, I’m the bad guy in your story, how did I forget this detail?” You blabbered, and he didn't really understand what you meant.
Then, without giving him any time to process what you said, you sprang up from your seat but made sure to take your cocktail with you. “Come now, cowboy. Take your drink with you, can’t leave that to waste right? Let’s continue drinking outside, like real drinking buddies.” That last sentence, he hasn't asked you yet, that means you guessed by his actions alone. Was it that obvious? It almost felt like you were taunting him or making fun of his previous idea of befriending you.
To save some of his pride, he decided to entertain your little chitchat. “Take it with me? I don’t think I’ll need that long to deal with the likes of you.” He sneered, a cheeky expression was plastered on his face now. You scanned him up and down a few times, then said, “If I can give you one advice: you’ll regret it if you don’t.” Shortly after, you walked out of the store, not giving a damn if he followed you or not. It was because you knew he wouldn’t let you escape so easily, and as you predicted, he followed you to the back of the bar. His footsteps were rather silent for a cyborg, he must not want to involve other guests.
The environment was filthy and dark, as well as out of the sight of innocent civilians. Perfect for an ambush or to have a private talk. You took another sip of your drink and complimented it, “Heavens, have I told you already? This tastes great. Wanna try some?” This sudden courtesy didn't seem fitting at all, considering he already lost all trust he had for you. His eyes pointed to your hand, the hand holding the glass in front of him. Instead of taking it, he clanked his own glass against yours, saying “No need, and cheers. Now that we are drinking, it’s time for you to start talking.” After finishing his speech, he drank his much-anticipated beverage.
This was what he missed, the sweet taste of paradise. No matter how he hated to admit it, the bullet you put in was just the stuff he needed. The faint taste of brass and gunpowder partnered up with the overwhelming sweetness of the malt juice was simply magnificent. “Ehem.. now,” He began, putting the drink onto the staircase next to him. It was the emergency staircase in case of a fire, yet it looked rusty as hell. Still, it won’t crash down because of one measly drink, will it?
This was something he had noticed for a while, somehow, he always found your gaze on his hands. The same applied here when he was putting his malt juice away. Was it worth being careful about? Boothill sighed, before continuing, “Tell me, what is your purpose? You were looking for me, weren’t ya?” Straight to the point, as expected of an ill-mannered cowboy like him, but you didn’t dislike it. “If I told you, this won’t be fun anymore. The villain always shares their plan when the hero is subdued.” You gurgled down the last bits of your ‘hangman’s blood’, then put the glass on the ground, unlike him. Would you look at that, who has no manners now?
Afterward, you walked up to the man, and his response to it was taking a few steps back. It wasn’t until his back hit the wall that the two of you stopped in your tracks. “Shirtbag… do you want to imitate a cartoon villain that bad?” He scoffed, crossing his arms once again. “Hehe, maybe.” You smiled at him providing him with a vague answer. Fork it, he was definitely going to wipe that insolent grin of yours from your face. “Anyway, before things escalate and you hit me, how about a quick introduction? My name is y/n.” The ranger didn’t look happy at all at your suggestion, and so he snapped, “I know, I saw on the poster. Can you stop wasting my free time now?”
“Whoa, easy there. And hey! Don’t pull your gun out!” You said and raised your hands as if to testify to your cooperation, then spouted “Well, I don’t know what information I own that could possibly satisfy you.” Now you were really wasting his time, chatting with no end in sight. Obviously, you were playing dumb with him. This caused Boothill to shout almost angrily, “Just tell me what business you have with me, fudgehead!” His rather funny way of talking didn't shock you, which means this was another piece of information you had access to beforehand. Who was feeding you with all that info?
He reached out for your collar again, but to his surprise, he couldn't move his arm anymore. “What the fork?!” His eyes turned to look up at you, his soft lips were parted due to disbelief. “Thankfully it worked~ otherwise I’d be cheese by now!” You joked, taking another step forwards him. “Holy wubabboo- is this your doing?” A confused expression spread on your face and you questioned, “Did what?” What the- what was happening, he couldn't comprehend this darned situation.
“How did you pull this off-? UrGhh!!” Out of nowhere, he dropped down to his knees, hovering and kneeling on the ground while sweating furiously. There was no strength left in his legs, or he lost control of his limbs somehow. On the outside he looked like a robot out of power, arms dangling next to him all lifeless. “Fudge! Tell me! What did you do?!” This has to be your doing, the timing is too perfect. You scanned his body again, smirking to yourself. "I had to prepare a lot for this, you know."
His ears perked at your confession, were you finally getting bored of that clueless act? Your face was barely visible since the alley wasn’t very bright, there was only one dimly lit street lamp around the corner. “You were easier to catch than I thought.” You then uttered. What the hell is this! That was supposed to be his line, so how did things end up this way? He is a motherfudging cyborg, what could you have possibly done to him?
The word confusion was basically written all over his face, he couldn’t even curse at you because he was so baffled, so perplexed about basically everything. Then, you raised your foot and stepped down on his shoulder. He turned his head to the side just to be faced with your shoe, the soles dirtied his cropped jacket.
“Get off me, you son of a nice fugin' lady.” Boothill gritted his teeth, trying to push you away. But the word in capital letter and underlined was 'trying', since he couldn’t move at all. He felt as helpless as the day he lost his home, unable to do anything but watch from the sidelines. “I like that feisty look in your eyes, cowboy.” You teased, those stinging words hurting his ego. Suddenly you leaned down, all so you could meet his gaze more easily.
Your hands reached for the glass of malt juice standing on the staircase and held it above his face. It shone in a golden light, almost akin to a disco ball. His eyes were glued to that glass, partly because he wondered what you planned to do. “Here, as I said before, this shouldn’t go to waste.” You told him and grabbed his chin. It happened so suddenly that he couldn’t react to it, not like he could have done anything in self-defense anyway. “Ugh, let go you mother- fuuHHMM!!”
When he opened his mouth to curse and to let out a shocked yelp, you forcefully poured the drink down his throat. It streamed down his oesophagus. You had to admit, he had good reflexes for reacting to this so quickly. Some of the liquid landed on his lips or cheeks, but he drank most of the juice. You watched the remains that weren't swallowed drip down his chin, soiling his clothes further and creating a darker spot on the fabric. It also covered his metallic chest in a golden shine, one could easily confuse it with oil.
The cyborg closed his eyes to avoid the liquor getting in places it shouldn’t, he choked a little since you were pouring so fast he couldn’t keep up with the swallowing. This didn’t stop until the glass was empty, even the bullet you gifted him earlier ended up in his mouth. He let it rest on his tongue for a while, before gulping it down as well. “Mmmh, guhh- cough cough!”
Boothill gasped, the bullet didn’t roll in as easily as the malt juice, it remained stuck in his throat. He had to cough a few times for it to slide down, after that he instantly complained, “Fu-fudge... why did you do that? I wanted to enjoy my drink slowly!” But he stopped mid-track when your familiar laugh echoed in his ears, and your fingertips stroked his chin. Shivers ran down his spine at your touch, he didn't know why.
“Dear ranger~ did your mommy not teach you not to take things from a stranger?” His eyes twitched and widened, you couldn’t really grasp the expression he pulled, though he looked devastated. It seems a light switch clicked inside his thick skull. Did you mess with his drink? Boothill just couldn't keep calm anymore at the realization, glaring at you with a nasty attitude. “Oh my, did I hit a sore spot there? You look like you want to kill me.” Yet his threatening, imposing body language didn’t scare you off, which is why you continued ridiculing him.
“I’ll ask you a last time, what the fork did you do to me?" Despite all these misfortunes, he didn't give up his insolent side, he was planning on giving you a hard time until the very end. Boothill was showing his sharp teeth once again, but this time he wasn’t smiling. “Are you familiar with Sulfuric acid?” You uttered, tapping his lips with your thumb. That word was foreign to him, was it something he would know? He wanted to bite down on his bottom lip, but you stopped him. This feeling, it was latex, you were wearing gloves.
“You see, it’s potent enough to melt metal.” The expression that followed after you enlightened him of its importance was simply amazing, you were curious about what he felt in that moment. Shock? Anger? Frustration? Maybe even self-hatred? “Then, how did you-” “Hey, I wasn’t done talking. Anyway, to answer your question, I hid it inside the bullet. Then I just had to wait for it to melt through the brass and voila, need me to say more?” What a talent you have for spouting such horrendous things with an innocent tone.
“Everything’s going according to your plan, huh, explaining everything when the hero’s subdued.” He repeated your words, then coughed again because his throat was burning. Actually, it hurt and itched. His face also felt like it was on fire, or to be precise, his skin did. It was so painful he had to clench his teeth to suppress the pain. You laughed under your breath, laughing at him, mocking him. “Right, if it’s potent enough to inflict wounds on a cyborg, then of course it irritates the skin as well.” Well, that should explain why his skin was hurting. “Now, boothill, may I give you another advice?”
Your hand caressed his cheeks as you asked him that, face only millimetres away from his. The way you touched him was surprisingly gentle, it made him sick. “What do you want.” He scorned, shaking his head to brush off your hand. “I’m sure you have extra protection around the more important components inside your system, though you should still get rid of the acid.” You looked unfazed when he avoided your touch, instead you closed the already nonexistent distance between you two and whispered into his ear.
The male looked mad, really damn angry. He yelled into your face, “Well fudge me I guess?! I can’t forking move my body!” That caught you off guard, you blinked a few times at his aggressive behavior. Don't get you wrong, it's not that you didn’t understand his point of view. On the contrary, it's good to see him still so energetic. “Ah~ my bad, I didn’t think the acid would break your control Center first. Why is it located right next to your stomach anyway?” You admitted, scratching your head a little.
This was so easy that it was almost boring, you expected him to put up more of a fight. But you can't blame him when he's basically a cripple right now. “In other words, I’m fudged? Fork this, dying so dishonorable tsk tsk.” Boothill snarled, rolling his eyes, he didn’t consider himself a living man before, but now he was dead-dead if you knew what he meant.
You glanced at his face, he was sweating and his complexion didn’t look all that good. He acted as if he didn't mind it, but he was hanging onto life so dearly it almost moved you. In the end, you proposed in a tender tone, “Want me to help you?” The ranger was still glaring at you, though his gaze bore more skeptic than fury. “You caused this first- fine, I don’t have any choice but to accept do I?”
No matter how he despised you, he can't carry out revenge when he's dead. It's not that he trusted you to 'save' him, but rather, this is his last resort. As soon as he finished his sentence, you yanked on his chin to make him look up at you. The tips of his hair were wet due to the alcohol, and his skin also reddened due to the acid. Your thumb pressed on his bottom lip, almost pulling at it. A faint blush crept onto his cheeks at the intimate touch. Adorable.
When he parted his lips a little, you took that opportunity to stuff your index and middle finger into his mouth. “What- Mhm..!?” The male groaned, finding himself in a pretty bizarre situation. God how embarrassing, he was falling into a shameful abyss he couldn't crawl out anymore. Truth be told, he had a pretty accurate guess on what you wanted to do, though he really didn’t want to actually carry it out. Was this the only way?
You stuck your digits deeper inside, already at the second knuckle, causing him to flinch and twitch. His eyes were tightly shut, brows furrowed while a growing blush covered his features. Damn it, this is worse than any nightmares, this feels the worst. So what was this bubbling and tingly sensation he felt? It was messing with him, causing him to shudder. He could feel your fingers pressing down on his tongue, as well as you trying to not cut yourself on his teeth. This was weird, it was so strange, why was he getting lightheaded?
“Don’t act so surprised now, I’m helping you as you wanted.” After watching his helpless face for a while, you commented on it, obviously not planning on stopping the teasing anytime soon. It seems you caught on to the growing tension between the two of you, so you chuckled, “Hey... what’s this I'm seeing? Why is your face getting red?” His once half-lidded eyes were yanked wide open at the thought that he got exposed.
Don't tell him he was enjoying this perverted act. “Hmm! Sho-shou ap..!” Boothill tried to speak despite the difficulties, feeling your digits reaching deeper and deeper. With each poke, the tingly feeling also increased. Was this perhaps what they called sexual pleasure? If so, why did he have to experience it for the first time at your hands?
A few seconds later, you were knuckles-deep inside him, fingertips already rubbing the walls of his throat. It was wet and hot in his mouth, and his face seemed to be gradually heating as well. That process was speeding up quite rapidly. His cheeks quickly turned red, a foggy blush tainting the skin. He was blushing so much just from sucking on your fingers a little? You simply couldn’t miss out on ridiculing him yet again, purring into his ear once more, “Does this turn you on? How cute.”
His pupils shrank at your comment, probably at the disbelief that you’d say something this audacious. Him? Turned on by you? What a joke- this can’t be real. He was just having a hard time breathing, and that’s why he was getting red. Really. Though deep down, he knew he couldn't sugarcoat it, the truth will always be the truth, no matter how he denies its existence. “MhMm, guhNn, hmm-nggHh..!” The cowboy tried to argue with you, though his protests were muffled by you, only inaudible noises could be made out.
There were also sneaky moans mixed among his protests or little gasps. The vibrations of his voice tickled your skin, it felt pretty funny actually. “What was that? I can't understand you~” You admitted cheerfully, watching the emotion on his face rotate from shock, and anger to frustration. What a shameless person you were, and not to forget heartless.
Then you pressed down on his wet muscle once again, and he gagged around you. “Ughhh..!” That one single gag soon turned into a series of chokes, and tears began collecting in his eye sockets. So he still had his gag reflex, excellent, it was exactly what you needed. More coughs and chokes continuously spilled from the male while you mercilessly ravished his throat.
He could feel you poking his throat so deep it almost hurt, yet that wasn't the only thing he felt. No. Far from it, his body was burning up from the inside, though it was a different kind of heat than the effects of the acid. His mind felt so foggy and weakened, was it alright for him to let his guard down in times like this? When he still hasn't discovered your purpose? But he couldn't hang on anymore, it was as if his brain was melting. Never ever was it this challenging for him to hang on to his reason and logic, to what makes him human.
"Dahmmmm it..! S-stouu! GuhHGG..!!" He choked again, but this time, it felt like something was coming out... no, it was- "hmHHh, fooouukk!! Ugh-guUH!" This familiar sensation and taste, he couldn't move his tongue but he could still taste it faintly. Not to mention the burdensome smell, this familiar smell that stayed around his nostrils. The Asdana he just gurgled down was coming up again, he was on the verge of vomiting. It was as if his body rejected the drink, and he couldn't stop gagging.
At least his insides won't get messed up any longer, that must be the only positive thing in all this. Even so, to do something that shameful in front of you, damn it, he wants to spit at you if he could. You noticed how his throat tightened, or how his Adam's apple moved around. With that, you took your fingers out as fast as how you stuck them inside him. Strings of saliva connected your fingertips with his mouth, and his tongue hung outside for a while. "Ugh, fu-gUhg, UhmM!!"
Right afterward, he puked on the ground, head hanging low while more gaging sounds left him. His pupils shrunk as the contents spilled onto the filthy ground. Those embarrassing noises didn't cease until he choked up the bullet he had previously swallowed. Then, he whimpered at the taste, it had become sour now due to the chemical. "There you go, you should be fixed now." You reported, but he couldn't bring himself to be joyful about it.
Rather, he was sweating furiously, eyes widened and almost dried up. If he could cry, he definitely would have. Oh how thankful he was in that moment that he physically couldn't sob. He wouldn't have been able to live with the shame of breaking down in tears and weeping in front of you. "Uhhhhg, da-mHnn it... fu-uGGhh!!" The taste of the alcohol wasn't as pleasant as before, probably due to it getting corrupted by the acid you mentioned. Such a waste, and to think it landed on the floor now. A place like that wasn't worth a drink this exquisite.
His eyelids and brows twitched, and now that he was done, he clenched his teeth again and insulted you, "You muddlefudger..." That rebellious look in his gaze didn't vanish, he glared at you once more. You were almost impressed if you didn't notice a small glimmer of falter within his tough facade. Despite it being a normal bodily reaction, he seems to be holding it against you. "And here I thought I helped you out, how ungrateful." You clicked your tongue, and his face became redder. Was it because of the humiliation or anger?
Your shoe was still on his shoulder, pressing down on him, reminding him of his vulnerable position. The Cowboy snapped at you, spitting through gritted teeth, "What do ya' got planned now?" You took off your gloves, they were covered in his saliva. Then you revealed, "I'm not sure." He only got more annoyed by that nonchalant answer and demanded, "If you're going to kill me make it quick." Weirdly enough, your eyes glimmered, as if you were inspired by his suggestion. "If that's what you want, I don't mind it." You smirked, patting his head, stroking his long hair as your other hand sneakily pulled out the gun around his waist.
He almost lost himself in that small gesture of comfort you gave him, if it wasn't for him seeing you with his gun in your hand. "Hah.. with my own weapon? Fudge, you want to humiliate me to the end huh." How resentful he sounded, you almost pitied this guy. "Maybe I do." After saying that irritatingly proud, you pressed his revolver against his forehead, pushing his bangs to the side. "But this is a little boring, don't you think?"
As if you were truly interested in his opinion, he found it quite difficult to believe that. "Why do you ask me?" Boothill gnarled, but to his surprise, you moved the revolver away. Instead, the barrel was pressed flat against his chest, the muzzle facing his chin. "What are you..?" The male mumbled, twisting his expression at this damned play you organized for him. For you, all this must be a game, a stage you laid out for him, where he was a mindless puppet playing right into your hand.
He thought he couldn't be surprised anymore, yet your actions kept going beyond anything he could ever imagine. You moved the revolver upwards so that the muzzle was touching the underside of his chin. At the same time, the gun was going underneath his short jacket. "Y-you..!" The cyborg couldn't help but blush a little. His face was hot, overheating even compared to the cold weapon you held in your hands. "Do you still want to die? If you beg, I might spar you?" Your tone didn't sound that serious, it was almost said in a joking manner.
“Fork you, never." Boothill snarled again, acting disobedient even though his life was at stake. He had a strong spirit since he was still so cocky after all the things he went through. You wiped off the smile from your face, now staring down at him with a cold-blooded expression, "I'll count down from three then. Three..." Wha- no, this can't be the end, he still has to find Oswaldo. His artificial heart pounded against his chest, causing his mind to fall into chaos. "Two."
You were so cruel, counting down like this without remorse, a fudging monster! Adrenaline was being pumped through his body, or should he rather say every wire he owned? "One-" Without thinking, since he lost that privilege the moment you began counting, he yelled as fast as he could and closed his eyes, "Fudge! Fine! If m'gonna die lemme at least curse at you! You- er, muddlefudging clocksucker!!" Right now, he kind of wished he could cry, just to let out some steam. You couldn't help but giggle, before uttering the word, "Zero." Suddenly, he blanked out.
For a split second, time appeared to have stopped. What followed after was a loud, ear-splitting sound that echoed through the alley. To be expected, it definitely alarmed other people. Then, absolute silence emerged. Not even the faint music from the bar could be heard anymore. "Ah... hu-huh..?" "Oh? Seems like your gun wasn't loaded!" You giggled, you knew this from the start, didn't you? Pants along with a few choked-out whines escaped him. Shivers traveled through him and electricity was being sent to his brain, stimulating the euphoric parts.
A moment later, a slap sound reached his ears, and a sting that felt strangely pleasant originated from his cheek. His face turned to the side, and his cheek throbbed. "uh-urghh..! Ah, wha-what?" Did you just... slap him? Boothill groaned, shaking a little as drool rolled down his chin because his mouth remained open for too long. His spit also defiled the gun, wetting the revolver. Then, the unimaginable happened, and he let out an unrestrained moan, "ahhhHHHNngg..!?" It was high-pitched and whorish, he wore such a confused but slutty expression that it surprised both of you.
Reality crushed down on him too hard, and he couldn't help but gasp and whimper underneath his ragged inhales. "Ugh..ngh- wha-what's this fe-feeling..? W-why.. ha-hmnHg..♡♥︎?" Oh dear, this is not what you think just happened, right? "Boothill, did you just cum?" You said his name after a long while, and he groaned again, "guHhh... s-stop, that's nonsense! How can I e-even.. I-" The boy stumbled over his words, stuttering as a deep blush was painted over his entire face. He was such a twitchy mess now, totally different than his previous self.
“Are you a masochist?” You asked him randomly, it was so out of pocket that it killed the mood. "...are you crazy?" Boothill replied with scorn, his pride was pretty hurt by that statement. As if to test your speculation, you grabbed the back of his hair and yanked on it, making him yelp. "Arghh..! L-let go- fudge!" Then you squeezed his cheeks and stuck out your tongue. He stared at you hesitantly, his own tongue also hanging outside. Mere moments later, your spit was dripping down and landing in his mouth.
That action rendered him speechless, causing him to freeze. Your saliva tasted a little like alcohol. Darn it, this was so disgusting. Once you were done, you let go of the cowboy again, before teasing him, "I was right, you are a masochistic dog~" You knew because of his flushed cheeks, they became redder at your lewd antics. "Are you satisfied now? The fork do you want from me?!" Boothill scoffed, he could only bear this much until his breaking point. "What do I want?" You repeated his sentence, and put a finger on your chin as if you were thinking hard about something.
In the meantime, boothill impatiently waited, he desperately wanted to know your intentions, to see if it justified your actions. When you moved your finger away, you grinned before responding, "I think the answer is you." "...huh?" The cyborg was stunned, staring up at you with spirals in his pupils as you suddenly embraced him. "You heard me, boothill." Your voice and your hug were so warm, he didn't know you could be this gentle.
No, this was no good, it was troubling, to say the least. "Y/n? You- shirt, what do you mean?" For the first time, you heard your name come out of his mouth. His voice trembled as he voiced out your name, the way he said it had a nice ring to it. Then he glared at you once again, but this time he looked like a small animal, eyes glistening while a heavy blush formed on his face. Wait, why was he even blushing? Maybe, because he was wanted for the first time after centuries?
"I hate you." He said after returning to his senses, he got caught up in his emotions there for a moment. These little bits of comfort aren't enough to make up for the mess you caused, and he didn't feel the same. On the other hand, you couldn't stop smirking, and he knew by the looks of it that it wasn't an innocent smile by length. "Let's get out of here, I'll help you move." You then told him and helped him get up, pulling him by his arms.
This was immediately met with angry protests from the male, "Don't touch me- hey, ugh! Where the fudge are you taking me?" The second he let his guard down, you stuffed your gloves into his mouth to muffle his voice, "hMHh?! MmhhGFFF!!!" After that, to satisfy his curiosity, you whispered quietly, "To a place where I can have you."
.
.
"Finally, the guards are here." One of the guests said, to which another one answered, "Thank god because no one dared to go see what was going on." Maybe people we in disarray due to the mysterious sound they all heard. It was probably a gunshot, which means, someone might have died. Yet no one dared to go into the alley, out of fear that they might be the next victim. After the guards arrived, a rather large group of people followed them and ran over to the scene.
They all wanted to know what that gunshot was, standing on the sidelines and observing the investigation. 'What the hell happened here?!' Everyone wondered, eyes searching around for evidence. The only hints they found were two glasses standing on the staircase with some credits, as well as a pool of what seems to be malt juice lying on the ground along with a single golden bullet in the midst of it.
The guard in charge of this operation reached out for the bullet and said, "...someone must have been shot." Then he eyed the bullet up and down, in hopes of finding more clues. That's when he noticed a weird detail, "Why are there holes in the bullet?"
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Tags: @ghostiegirl56 @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze
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Nini!rant 2.0:
Based on my findings, concentrated sulfuric acid can melt many metals, like aluminium, iron and steel. (Boothill isn’t safe hehe) It’s enough if it’s moderately concentrated, so it’s alright if a bit of water mixes into it as well. It also reacts to brass - the copper aspect of it, I dunno if it reacts to zink as well. Some sources say yes, some denied it.
Anyway, the Formular for the melting process or chemical reaction would be: Cu + h2So4 -> CuSo4 + h2 or Fe + h2So4 -> FeSo4 h2
So it also creates hydrogen gas at the same time, which also melts iron and is poison for the human body. Annnnd copper Sulfid, which is weak and easily breakable, that means it can weaken the brass.
My plan to poison him: his favourite drink is malt juice with a 9mm calliber bullet that’s out of brass. And malt juice is out of ca. 25-30% water. So, I was thinking of drilling a hole into the bottom of the bullet and use a needle to shoot concentrated sulfuric acid inside the capsule. Then drop that in the malt juice. Now we just gotta wait for the acid to melt through the bullet, and mix with the water of the alcohol, then it’d become moderately concentrated. Btw sulfuric acid can absorb water from everywhere, even from the air.
Then if he drinks it, bam, his insides will melt. It might take a bit, so we gotta entertain him and stretch out the time. Even if he doesn’t drink it, he eats bullets, so he’ll get the acid inside his body anyway. With that, we successfully ‘poisoned’ him. It takes a bit of fantasy but oh well.
Now, take this hangman’s blood recipe:
- 1¾ parts gin.
- 1¾ parts white rum.
- 1¾ parts whiskey.
- 1¾ parts brandy.
- 7½ parts stout beer.
- 6 parts champagne.
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418 notes · View notes
theemporium · 5 months ago
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[22k] in attempt to bridge the decades old rivalry between the two gangs, a marriage of alliance is proposed between the new jersey devils and the new york rangers. the last thing you expected was to find yourself offered on a silver platter to your enemies. and you certainly didn't expect your future husband to be the likes of the devils leader himself, nico hischier.
new jersey mob masterlist || nhl mob masterlist
warning: this is a mob au. topics and themes such as violence, blood, murder and gun use are prevalent and constant throughout the fic. please keep that in mind if you choose to proceed with this fic and the whole series.
read part two here
.
“You know I would never question your authority—”
“It sounds like you’re about to question it.” 
“Are you really sure this is a good idea?” 
The footsteps echoing through the long corridor came to an abrupt stop as Nico stopped walking. The second set stopped shortly after, and he turned to find his second-in-command already looking at him with a mixed expression. It made him sigh, pushing back the meeting they were currently walking to to the back of his mind as he turned to his closest friend and confidante. 
The same man he had chosen to stand beside him in this lifestyle of theirs without a moment of hesitation because he knew no one would have his back the way Jesper Bratt did.
“Would there even be a point if I said no? It’s not like we can back out now,” Nico pointed out, and he watched Jesper’s shoulders slump a little like he was expecting that answer.
Jesper gritted his teeth. “I just don’t understand why you are doing this.”
“It’s for an alliance, Jesper, we’ve been over this,” Nico said, and despite himself, his eyes softened a little when he noted the hint of concern in his second-in-command‘s face. “We have too many enemies for our own good. We need to have people we can trust.” 
His eyes narrowed. “And you think you can trust them?”
“Just as much as they can trust us,” Nico replied, though the response sounded way too rehearsed and planned, even to his own ears. “We need this as much as they do.” 
“We have plenty of enemies you could have negotiated an alliance with,” Jesper pointed out. “We could have strengthened the bond with Philadelphia. Or even the Sabres. Hell, Nico, you could have even tried to fix things with the Panthers down south. Why in loving fuck would you pick the Rangers?”
Nico remained silent.
“Because you want something from them,” Jesper murmured, realisation clicking into place as he carefully noted Nico’s expression. “Or someone.” 
“I am doing it for the sake of the gang,” Nico answered simply.
A slow smile spread across Jesper’s face. “Us, huh?” 
“Shut up.” 
“You know, as your second-in-command, surely I deserve to know what your game plan is.” 
“My game plan is to get to this meeting and sign the papers to start a new era of alliance with the New York Rangers,” Nico stated, his voice simple and blunt, but Jesper knew better. “That is all.” 
“Nothing else?”
“Nothing else.” 
“Hm, sure.” 
Nico shot the boy a look over his shoulder, but Jesper just grinned in response.
“I should’ve brought Palat with me instead,” he grumbled under his breath, lips twitching upwards when he heard Jesper let out a noise of disagreement. “C’mon, don’t wanna be late.” 
“Please, we are already thirty minutes early.” 
“Walk faster.”
“Stop making that face.” 
Silence.
“You look prettier when you smile.”
Silence. 
“Rogue, baby, come on. Don’t be like that—” 
Your hand snapped out, your fingers wrapped around his wrist and halting his actions before he could even reach out to touch you. You turned your head to look at him for the first time since you left the house back in New York, your glare icy and cold. 
“Don’t try to fucking touch me again.” 
Jacob Trouba stared back at you, his face remaining impressively blank but you noted the small twitch in his jaw. It wasn’t often someone talked back to the boss of the New York Rangers and didn’t face some consequence, but you guessed you were getting a pass due to current circumstances. 
“Play nice,” he said eventually as he leaned back against his chair. You sat in the seat next to him to his right, with two men settled behind. Jacob had said they didn’t need any more men in the room, but you knew well enough that he would have some of his men crawling within a block radius of the building. “And try not to be too difficult.” 
“You picked the wrong woman then,” you retorted, your whole body feeling stiff and on edge as you glanced over at the clock above the door. Two more minutes before the meeting was set to begin. “There’s still time to change. There’s always—”
“Not happening.” 
You gritted your teeth together. 
“Smile.” 
“Don’t fucking test me right now.” 
You heard one of the boys choking on a laugh, quickly trying to cover it up with a laugh. You didn’t need to turn your head to know that Jacob was probably glaring at them. 
You couldn’t even find it within yourself to smile at the interaction. 
When Jacob had called you into his office two weeks ago, you honestly thought he was joking. He had told you about the offer the Devils had offered, a few other members of his inner circle in the room as the lot of you discussed it. Most of you mocked it, talked about how it was a fucking joke that such a deep, historical rivalry was meant to be fixed with one marriage. Jacob himself had made a few teasing comments during the whole thing. 
Then, a week later he told you he was actually contemplating it. 
And then, just this morning, he gave you next to no warning that it would be you heading across the river to marry one of the Devils boys. 
Your reaction was as one expected when they were told they were practically being sold off for the sake of an alliance—you were fucking pissed. You laughed it off but when he didn’t join, you felt an unexplainable rage bubble inside you.
You knew how this world worked. You knew the reality and the politics of mob life. You knew nothing but mob life. And you knew very well the way women were seen in the eyes of the mob, the way they were seen as objects more so than humans. You had seen friends close to you be shipped across the country for the sake of alliance arranged marriages. 
But never once did you think it would be you.
Never once did you think Jacob would pull this shit on you. 
And for an alliance with the Devils, of all fucking people.
You weren’t the kind of girl that mob men liked. You weren’t quiet or compliant or a pushover. You weren’t the kind of girl they liked to have on their arm to show off. You weren’t the kind of girl to be a mob wife, full stop. 
Jacob knew this. He knew it better than anyone. It was the main fucking reason you were close to him, that you had his respect, that you were one of the few people in his inner circle that he trusted beyond belief.
And he had thrown it back in your face. 
You hadn’t spoken to him after your initial outburst. Once your throat was raw and your hands were shaking with rage, you had turned on your heel and walked out the room. He had tried to speak to you, quite a few of the boys did. But you remained silent for the whole ride over, for the hours that passed, for the whole day until a few minutes ago. 
“You are being fucking ridiculous right now.” 
A muscle in your jaw twitched, an overbearing urge to turn in your seat and spit out every thought you had bubbling in your mind since this morning, but your attention was quickly diverted by the sound of the door opening. 
You had encountered many of the Devils before, though not many of their faces were familiar and recognisable. It was good to know one’s enemy, to know the strongest and weakest points of their group. You had studied them far more than you cared to admit, probably more so than needed over the years. 
However, years of meetings and unfortunate accounts meant you recognised the faces that walked through the door, but the last person still took you by surprise. You knew he would be here, you expected as much. 
But never once had you met Nico Hischier in the flesh. 
His reputation preceded him. You had heard a lot about the man, most of it surrounding the young age he stepped into power for the Devils. You knew what the other organisations thought about him, the whispers and rumours that travelled outside of New York where the hatred and rivalry wasn’t so prominent. 
He was seen to be…fair. 
You didn’t think it was necessarily possible to be considered fair in the life you all were in.
“Hischier.” 
You watched the man stop at the other side of the table, making a point of dragging the chair out and settling down comfortably. He waited a few moments as his men stood behind him in formation, and only after they were comfortable, did he speak.
“Trouba.” 
You could only imagine how much he was seething. A small part of you enjoyed it, even if you didn’t turn to watch his expression closely. 
“I assume you still agree to the terms of our deal.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement that laid heavy in the air between the two men.
“As long as nothing has changed on your side.”
Jacob’s lips twitched. “Now, Nico, what kind of man would you take me for? This is about an alliance.” 
Nico raised his brows a little. “To the start of a new beginning.” 
Jacob’s eyes shifted away from the man he had called his mortal enemy for years now, and instead shifted to you. “Your boys will like her.”
Your jaw clenched. 
“A wife isn’t meant to be shared,” Nico retorted, though there was a hint of something in his voice you couldn’t establish. “Though, I am not sure how things are run in New York.”
Jacob laughed, but it wasn’t one of amusement like the room pretended it was. “Of course not. I am sure—”
“Do I get to know who I’m marrying now?” You spoke up, watching as every pair of eyes in the room turned to you. They were heavy and judging and focused, but your expression remained impassive. “Or am I expected to just sign a paper and be done with it?” 
Nico’s eyes fell onto you, something swirling in them that felt strong and captivating and almost made you want to lean a little closer to read whatever was written in them. He tilted his head, almost like he was inquiring your words before he spoke.
“You’ll be my wife.” 
You froze, blinking. 
Understanding washed over Nico’s expression. “You didn’t know.”
“No,” you gritted out, your nails digging into your palm as that bubbling rage from earlier returned. “I did not.” 
Nico’s eyes shifted to Jacob, and you resisted the urge to do the same.
“I didn’t see it necessary information to share,” was all Jacob responded with. 
You bit your tongue.
“Hm,” Nico hummed, seeming to have a lot more to say but resisting the urge to do so. His eyes lingered on Jacob for a few moments, analysing and observing before his gaze settled on you again. “Are you returning to New Jersey with us, or do you wish to return to New York to collect your things?” 
You opened your mouth but Jacob bet you to it.
“She will go with you once the marriage is official.” 
Nico didn’t take his eyes off you. “I wasn’t asking you, Trouba.” 
You heard someone cough behind you, but you found yourself staring right back at Nico.
He raised his brows in question. 
And you could feel Jacob’s eyes boring into your side. 
And maybe it was petty or maybe it was fuelled by the lingering anger you had towards the man, but you kept your eyes on Nico as you spoke. 
“Might as well get used to New Jersey as soon as I can, no?” You stated simply, but you could have sworn he almost looked pleased with your response before his eyes returned to Jacob. 
“Then it’s settled,” he said as he pushed himself off his chair, the two men behind him quickly taking a step closer as if on instinct. “We’ll be sure to send you a wedding invitation.”
You thought you had an idea what it would be like to live with the New Jersey Devils, truthfully because you didn’t assume it would be all that different to life with the Rangers. You weren’t naive enough to think both organisations were run the exact same way, but you assumed there would be a lot more similarities than there actually were.
The first thing that caught you by surprise was the way they talked. 
You hadn’t spoken a word as you left the room, not taking Nico’s offer to say your goodbyes to the Rangers you had come with. The last thing you needed to hear was an earful from Jacob for not following his orders, or his plan (the one he conveniently kept to himself and expected everyone to simply know). You followed Nico out the door, trying not to feel so on edge about having the two other Devils flanking you from behind.
When you reached the car, it wasn’t too much of a surprise that Nico reached to open your door. Most men were raised to act like gentlemen in this life, even if they were far from it. He waited until you were settled in the seat behind the passenger’s seat, seatbelt clicked in place before he closed the door.
You were somewhat surprised to find him round the car and settle on the other side of the backseat, and not sit in the front. You tried not to stare at him too much. 
You expected the drive back to be similar to the journey you had with Trouba this morning. It almost startled you the way the three of them instantly broke out into conversation. 
It wasn’t anything damning or secretive, but it still felt wrong to listen in. It felt wrong for them to talk in front of you. It felt like a culture shock, being in a car and not having the people inside the vehicle with you being overly paranoid at the car being tapped. It felt weird that they didn’t even hesitate, didn’t even wait until the dark haired man (the vague memory of his name on the tip of your tongue) in the front had turned the key in the ignition. 
“I get to choose the music since I rode shotgun!” The blond in the passenger seat blurted out before the car had even reversed out of its space.
“Fuck off, you like my music!” Nico snapped back.
“Sure, Boss, sure.” 
You blinked. 
The fact they spoke was one thing, but you certainly didn’t expect them to talk to each other like that. The fact they spoke to Nico—their boss—like that. It was far from what you were expecting. 
“Back me up, Siegs,” the blond tried again but the man in the driver’s seat just snorted. 
“I don’t care, Jesper,” Jonas replied, though there was a smile on his face.
Jesper let out a huff. “You are so fake in front of him, I know you hate it.” 
Jonas only shrugged in response, which made Nico’s smile widen a little.
You tried not to gape at the three of them, but it was a little difficult. It wasn’t like you expected to be treated like an outcast—although, maybe you did—but you certainly weren’t expecting them to seem so…relaxed around you. 
The silence that usually filled the Rangers car was nowhere to be seen. The underlying tension between the boss and his men was non-existent. It almost felt like you were sitting in a car full of friends. Maybe even a family.
It was a little disconcerting. 
The second thing that caught your attention amongst everything else was the way they treated you.
You knew the expectations of a mob wife. You knew that arranged marriages, like yours and Nico’s, had been happening for decades now. You had seen many play out with your own eyes back with the Rangers, saw what was expected of these women who were thrown into new homes and lives for the sake of alliances, money and more. 
It wasn’t a surprise when Nico led you through the house, guiding you upstairs with a hand placed in the dip of your back. The shock came when he stopped suddenly outside a door, turning to you with an expectant look. 
“This is your room. I thought you would want to rest for tonight, maybe have some time to yourself,” Nico explained, polite and curt, like a true gentleman. “I can have some dinner sent up to you. And my office is just down the hall. Feel free to knock if you need anything.” 
You stared at him with a confused expression. 
Nico’s brows furrowed a little in response. “Sorry, is that okay? You look…lost.”
“You said your room,” you said, though the boy still looked a bit confused. “Instead of ours.”
“Oh,” Nico nodded, realisation dawning over his expression before he gave you a polite smile. “My room is the next one over.” 
Your eyes narrowed in suspicion. “We aren’t sharing a room?”
“We aren’t married,” he stated simply.
“Do you expect us to share a room after we are married?” You asked.
His expression remained impassive and unreadable. “If you wish so.” 
There was a small voice in the back of your head telling you he was being genuine, and yet, somehow, that only made your confusion grow. 
“Goodnight, Rogue,” was all Nico said before he headed down the hall, leaving you lost in your own thoughts and suspicions and mixed emotions.
You thought there was nothing less that the New Jersey Devils could do to catch you by surprise. And you were very wrong about that.
You had hardly slept the night before. There was something unsettling being away from the place you had called home your whole life. There was something even more unsettling knowing you were in enemy territory—even if you couldn’t really call it that anymore. There was just something unsettling about lying in a bed, knowing that you didn’t know a single soul beyond the door. 
And after tossing and turning, you had mostly given up by the time someone knocked on your door just after nine in the morning. 
You had almost expected that yesterday was the last you would see of Nico before he rushed off, hiding away in his office or meetings or whatever other excuses he could make to avoid you. You certainly weren’t expecting to find him on the other side of your door, a polite smile on his face once again.
“Good morning,” he greeted you, his hands tucked behind his back. The sun had barely been in the sky for a few hours and the man was dressed immaculately in a shirt and suit pants, looking far too put together. “Sleep well?” 
“Yes,” you lied, because it wasn’t exactly like you wanted to get into the details with your soon-to-be husband. “Can I help you?”
“Oh yes,” he cleared his throat a little, taking a step back and only then did you realise he wasn’t alone. The boy beside him was taller, a little skinnier too. With curly hair and a baby face, you would guess he was at least a couple of years younger than Nico. “This is Luke.” 
You glanced over the boy before your gaze returned to Nico. “Is he my babysitter?” 
Nico’s lips twitched upwards. “I was going to say bodyguard.”
“Semantics.” 
Luke cleared his throat a little, ducking his head down but not fast enough for you not to see the small smirk playing on his lips.
Nico straightened his spine before he spoke, his expression impassive again. “He can help you with whatever you need. And if he can’t, then he knows someone who can.”
“Let me guess,” you started, leaning against the door as you surveyed the older man with a knowing look. “He’s under strict orders to make sure I don’t run off?”
Nico’s brows furrowed together. “Of course not. If you wish to go out somewhere, Luke will accompany you.”
You could only blink in response. You felt as though you had been doing that a lot lately.
“Oh.” 
You didn’t remember what else Nico had said before he ran off, muttering something about a meeting and someone called Jack—the name familiar once again—blowing up his phone. Truthfully, you weren’t sure if it mattered. Everything in the last twenty-fours had thrown your life upside down, you didn’t think you could handle much more.
And then Luke turned to you with a shit-eating grin on his face and said, “wanna go get McDonald’s breakfast?” 
You had come to realise that despite his baby face and slight cartoonish laugh, Luke wasn’t as bad as you expected him to be.
Back in New York with the Rangers, you had crossed paths with your fair share of young and ambitious members. They were dedicated and strong-willed and determined to do anything to prove themselves to the cause, to prove themselves to their boss. They were willing to be ruthless, merciless and cold-hearted. 
New Jersey was very different. 
There was a strong lack of fear in the air, replaced with something more akin to encouragement. The boys here didn’t fear to make mistakes as badly as you had seen in the Rangers. They followed the rules and did what they were told because they wanted to, because they wanted to thrive. Not because they were scared of what would happen to them otherwise.
Truthfully, you didn’t know how you felt about it.
“Every week?”
“Every week,” Luke confirmed with a nod.
“Without fail?”
“Mhm,” he nodded once again.
“Everyone?”
“Usually,” Luke answered, pausing for a moment before he shrugged. “Unless someone has something else on. But nobody actively goes out of their way to miss it. Candy would kill them.”
You paused for a moment, your brows furrowed together as you tried to put a face to the name, only to come short. In your defence, though it had been close to a week since you arrived, most of your time had been spent with Luke. You would see people here and there, wandering around the house or passing by, and Luke would always try to inform you on who they were as best he could. But there were so many new names and new faces and new…everything to get used to.
You still felt like an outsider wandering the halls. 
You still felt pretty pissed that Trouba, or any of the Rangers back home for that matter, hadn’t tried reaching out to you.
You still felt very fucking confused on the fact you had yet to see Nico since the day he brought you to Jersey. It seemed as though he was hiding away to avoid you after all. 
“You’ll know her when you see her,” Luke informed you, seeming to pick up on the confusion on your face. “She’s the loud one in colourful clothes who has a guy resembling a lovesick puppy following her around.”
You raised your brows in question.
“Long story,” Luke snorted. “But where Candy goes, John follows.”
You nodded. “And John is…”
“Tall guy, dark curly hair, always silently brooding and judging people,” Luke listed off like it would help. “He kinda looks at you like he wants to kill you.” 
You let out a huff of amusement. “You sure he doesn’t just do that to you?”
Luke paused, almost as though he was having a revelation. 
Your lips twitched upwards. And then, because apparently you couldn’t keep a nice thing going, you found yourself asking, “are you even supposed to be telling me all this?”
He frowned. “What? That John is kinda emotionally constipated?” 
“I—” You paused, your nose scrunching up a little. “What? No. Just about everyone in general.”
Luke stared at you. “Why wouldn’t I tell you?”
“Information,” you replied with a shrug of your shoulders. 
“Anyone with two working eyes could see half the shit I tell you,” Luke retorted with a snort. “It’s hardly confidential information when I tell you what a pain in the ass Jack is. Or that Dawson goes through three bottles of shampoo in a month. Or that—”
“That you are scared of spiders?” You interrupted, something close to a teasing smile on your lips as you watched the boy scoff.
“I’m not!” He insisted. “That spider just caught me by surprise.”
“You screamed.”
“I wasn’t expecting to see it.” 
And even if you never said it to Luke, it was weird he was being so open with you about the members of the New Jersey Devils. Every piece of information—no matter how small or insignificant—could be used against you. It was a life motto, one ingrained into you when you grew up as a Ranger. It felt like a basic life rule everyone followed. 
At least, it did back in New York. 
In New Jersey, it seemed like the second you stepped foot onto their premise, they saw you as one of their own. And once you were one of their own, there were no secrets between you. Everyone knew everything about everyone—or at least, a general understanding. No one was shying away from each other, from you. 
You didn’t know how you felt about it, but it did make your heart pine for something familiar. For something that felt like home. 
And New Jersey would never be that. 
To your utter surprise, the next time you saw Nico was that following Sunday.
You weren’t naive to think he would be glued to your side, that much was confirmed when he ordered Luke to be your round-the-clock bodyguard. He wanted to keep an eye on you, he just didn’t want to be the person to do it. You were somewhat surprised he didn’t send one of the bigger guys—like Kevin or Kurtis—to be your bodyguard, someone to intimidate you. Though, you assumed he was probably saving them for more important jobs than a glorified babysitter. 
Your days had been blurring into one, and though you hadn’t spent much time in Jersey, it had felt like a lifetime.
Your life was stuck in routine and you had gotten pretty used to it by that point. 
Luke would be at your door by eight sharp, ready to get the day started. You would share every meal with him, though it varied whether you both bothered in the kitchen or went somewhere out to eat—Luke had been enjoying showing you various places around the city. But that was about as exciting as your days got. You might bump into some others, talk to them, get to know them.
But your days were boring, pointless and repetitive. 
The only slight change to your routine was Sunday. The unspoken but very relevant rule of every member attending the dinner, by your surprise, extended to you too. Luke had told you as much over breakfast, talking away about how Candy had been interrogating him on what dishes you would prefer. 
You had told him you didn’t care—because you didn’t and you had a feeling it would give him a harder time with Candy, which amused you. 
However, Luke had been frustratingly vague with the timings of everything. It wasn’t a big deal, considering you didn’t have much else on your plate to be worried about. But the limited wardrobe and Luke’s shrugged response when asked about the dress code for the dinner was turning out to be quite the issue.
It was somewhere just past seven when you heard three knocks on your door.
“I’m decent!” You called out, frowning at the few options hanging in your wardrobe. It was quite sad, to be honest. But you hadn’t had the chance to get everything transferred from your New York apartment, not that anyone from the Rangers seemed eager to offer their help. 
But instead of coming in like he usually did, Luke knocked again.
You frowned, turning to look at the door. “Just come in!”
The door remained shut.
“You’re so dramatic,” you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes as you made your way towards the door. You reached for the handle, fully prepared to see Luke on the other side with his face in his phone or even giving you a shit-eating grin like he knew he got under your skin. 
You were not expecting Nico to be standing on the other side.
“Oh.” You blinked. “I thought you were Luke.” 
Nico’s lips twitched. “I gave him the night off.” 
You raised your brows. “Oh?”
“There was a small change in plans.” Nico continued. “I thought I would escort you to dinner.”
“Escort me,” you repeated, something quite like amusement lacing your voice. “I didn’t realise these big dinners were so fancy. Should I change?” 
“We won’t be joining the others this week. I thought we could have dinner alone,” Nico corrected, his eyes watching you closely like he was inspecting your reaction. “If that is okay with you.” 
You tried to hide your surprise that he was giving you an option. A part of you wondered if it was a formality, something he phrased like an option but was really a command—something Jacob would do often. Yet, you couldn’t really find yourself imagining Nico was one of those people.
“Just the two of us?” You questioned.
Nico nodded before he spoke. “I thought it would be best for us to get to know each other.”
Your interest piqued but you didn’t show much as you nodded, telling him to give you a few more minutes before you joined him.
For the dinner itself, he led you away from the large dining room where you assumed the large group dinner was taking place. He didn’t say a word as you walked, seeming comfortable enough in the silence until you reached the room. 
And Nico played the part of a gentleman well. He opened the door and guided you in first. He pulled the chair out and waited for you to settle in your seat before he even made his way to his seat. He reached for the wine and filled your glass before even daring to touch his own.
You felt on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
“You look tense.” 
You raised your brows. “Just what a woman wants to hear.”
Nico’s lips twitched. “I have a feeling that you wouldn’t care what people say about you.” 
“Your feeling would be correct.” 
“Your reputation precedes you,” he mused, leaning back against his chair with an ease only a man in power would have. 
You tilted your head. “And yet, you still agreed to marry me.” 
“Who said your reputation wasn’t what appealed to me the most?” Nico retorted, hiding the smirk on his lips as he took a sip from his wine glass. 
“I am sure whatever flowery promises Jacob added definitely sold it,” you commented, unable to hide the bite in your voice. 
Nico stared at you for a few moments before he spoke. “I do apologise.”
You raised your brows in questioning. 
“For blindsiding you that day,” Nico continued. “I was under the impression you were aware of the contract.” 
“Funnily enough, I was not informed my name had been thrown into a deal,” you replied, jaw clenching a little as the reminder of what Jacob had inserted you into washing over you. This was your home now, not New York. “Jacob knew better than to tell me.” 
“Well, if it’s any consolation, your name wasn’t officially included,” Nico added. 
You paused, a crease forming between your brows. “What do you mean?” 
“Just that the official agreement between the Devils and Rangers included me marrying someone but no names were included for technicality reasons,” Nico answered and it took everything in you to keep your face straight. 
Up until this point, you were under the impression that Jacob had practically thrown you into the deep end with no warning because your name was the one on the contract. You had seen it time and time again in arranged marriages, you had seen demands to be made because men felt entitled to certain women or dangled them in front of the enemy as a bargaining chip. 
If you were being completely honest, you had assumed that was what happened here. You had assumed back and forth negotiations had been made and Jacob had deemed you the best bargaining chip to get whatever he wanted from the Devils. The Rangers tended to be old school and traditional that way. 
It never occurred to you that you weren’t a part of this, that you didn’t need to be a part of it. 
“So, Jacob just offered me up to fill a spot?” You questioned, your voice remaining steady and calm as your mind swirled with a million thoughts.
Nico’s eyes glimmered with an unreadable emotion. “Something like that.”
Your heart was racing in your chest. “And any woman could be in my spot and the agreement would still remain?” 
“I guess so,” Nico stated, seeming like he wanted to say more but he remained quiet. 
“Interesting,” you commented, a plan already forming in your head as you reached for your glass. “You may have made a mistake, you know?” 
Nico’s lips twitched upwards. “What makes you say that?” 
“If this is to be my wedding, I want it to be absolutely perfect,” you said with a casual shrug of your shoulders, staring at the man across the table from you. “I refuse anything less.” 
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Nico mused before raising his glass in your direction. “Do as you please.” 
Your smile widened in response as you took a long sip from your glass. 
You were going to break Nico Hishcier and you were going to make sure he sent you running back to New York, if it was the last thing you did. 
And then, you would make Jacob Trouba regret even uttering your name into the stupid agreement. 
“It was targeted?” 
Jesper nodded, his face serious and shoulders tensed as he slid a copy of the official police report across the table towards Nico. “Last night,” he said with a heavy sigh. “They broke in, roughed the place up a little and then set it on fire. It didn’t seem like they found whatever they wanted so they burned the place down.” 
“Talk about dramatic,” Jack grumbled from his spot on the couch. 
Nico shot the younger boy a look before turning back to Jesper. “What did the police say?” 
“As much as you would expect,” the blond shrugged. “They don’t want to get involved if it’s dirty work.” 
Nico raised a brow. “And is it?” 
“You tell me,” Jesper shot back, his jaw clenching. “Did your best friend Trouba mention anything about his boys’ weekend plans to break into one of our warehouses?” 
“Bratter is feeling sassy,” Jack sang, snickering even when Jonas tried to jab him with his elbow to keep quiet.
“These attacks have been going on for months,” Jesper pointed out, his lips turned downwards in a frown. “And they aren’t going to stop until we retaliate.” 
“We don’t know who is behind it yet,” Nico retorted. 
“Of course we fucking do.” 
“Jesper,” Nico shot him a look. “I know you don’t like my agreement with Trouba but he wouldn’t break it. We signed the truce.” 
“It isn’t official until the wedding,” Jonas spoke up from his spot on the couch next to Jack. 
“Jacob Trouba is many things but stupid isn’t one of them,” Nico sighed, ignoring the ‘ehhhh’ Timo muttered out as he leaned back in his chair. “And it would be incredibly stupid to target the people you are trying to sign an alliance with.” 
“Still,” Jesper grumbled as he nodded at the police report. “One week earlier and half of our stock could have been up in flames.” 
Timo raised his brows. “You think someone knew?” 
“I think someone may be getting delayed information,” Jesper corrected.
“I want you and Timo investigating this,” Nico said as he tapped his finger on the file. “Dig out the reports from the other targeted attacks and—” 
RING! RING! RING!
Nico frowned a little as the shrill of his phone echoed through the room. He ignored the boys’ curious looks as he reached for it, answering the call and lifting it to his ear. “Nico Hischier speaking.” 
“Uh, Mr Hishcier, so sorry to bother you,” a mousy, timid voice spoke from the other side. “This is Jeff from the bank calling and—”
“Get on with it, Jeff,” Nico stated bluntly. 
“Right, yes. Uh, there has been a suspicious amount of transactions coming out of your bank today and we wanted to inform you in case you wished us to freeze the accounts or—” 
Nico tried to bite back his smile. “Where are these transactions coming from?” 
“The last one to go through was a purchase of four hundred thousand dollars for…flowers?” 
This time Nico actually let out a loud, boisterous laugh which caught both Jeff and the boys in his study off guard.
“What was the one before that?” Nico asked, clearly amused. 
“Three hundred dollars spent at…McDonalds.” 
“Keep letting them through,” Nico assured the man on the other side of the phone. “That’s just my fiancée having some fun.” 
“Oh. Right. Sorry, Mr Hischier, and congratulations!” 
Nico thanked the man before hanging up, throwing his phone back down on the desk before he turned his attention back to the meeting they were having. However, he seemed to pick up on the eerie silence and lifted his head to find all of the boys looking at him with various expressions painted across their faces. 
“Out with it then,” Nico said eventually. 
“Count on Nico bagging the most expensive fiancée in New York,” Timo teased, a shit-eating grin on his face.
But Nico just shrugged. “It’s her wedding day. She wants it to be perfect.” 
“Even if it leaves you bankrupt,” Jonas snorted.
“As long as she’s happy,” Nico answered, sincere in his words. 
“If only Trouba knew how whipped you were for his girl, he would have never agreed to the deal,” Jack commented, raising his hands in mock surrender when Nico turned to glare at him.
“She’s not Trouba’s girl,” Nico gritted out. 
“Yikes, Boss has claws.” 
“Anyone with a pair of eyes can see how whipped Nico is,” Jesper commented with a huff of laughter. “Trouba is, in fact, stupid if he didn’t notice. Now, can we please get back to the main problem before he starts singing limericks.” 
Nico frowned. “Hey—” 
“My money is on the Sabres being involved!” 
“As if they even know how to light a match.” 
“You look like you have had a busy day.” 
You turned your head to find Nico standing in the door entrance, leaning against the frame as his eyes wandered over the dozens of bags in your room. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his sleeves were rolled to his elbows and a few strands of hair were falling into his face. It almost annoyed you that this was the most dishevelled you had seen him and he still looked so good and put-together.
“I decided to take it slow,” you answered casually, turning back around before you could see the smile tugging on his lips. “I didn’t want to scare Luke off too soon.” 
“The boy is tougher than he looks,” Nico commented. “I am sure he can handle whatever you throw at him.”
Your lips twitched. “You weren’t the one listening to him whine about carrying a couple of bags.”
“A couple is an understatement,” Nico mused. “He’s still unpacking the car with Dawson’s help.” 
You glanced over your shoulder, something victorious and smug shining in your eyes. “Is there a problem with that?”
Nico flashed you a smile. “My money is your money. My boys are your boys. Knock yourself out, schatz.”
You blinked, his words barely processing in your head before you realised he had already begun walking away. You glanced down at the countless bags littering your bedroom floor, most of them useless purchases you picked up to push the balance higher. 
And yet, Nico just walked away without a care in the world. 
“I really wouldn’t recommend this.” 
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not listening to you.” 
“Rogue—” 
You rolled your eyes, listening to the satisfying clicks of your heels against the floor as you made your way down the corridor. “He’s my fiancé.” 
“He is in a meeting,” Luke shot back. “He doesn't like being interrupted. Not even by us.” 
“I’m not you,” you retorted, almost hearing the eye roll from the younger boy following behind you. “And I don’t care if he is in a meeting, he can make time for me.”
“That’s not how it works,” Luke muttered under his breath.
“It is now.” 
“God, I’m going to have to plan a funeral.” 
You ignored the boy’s last feeble attempts to stop you from going through with it—or to at least knock on the door—but it was hopeless as you reached Nico’s study, hand on the knob and opening the door before Luke could even think to pull you back. Or throw you over his shoulder and run back down the corridor. 
The room fell silent as you stood in the doorway. 
You didn’t recognise the men sitting across from Nico at the large desk. They were old and burly and quite literally looked like characters out of Sopranos. They turned to face you, eyebrows furrowed and lips turned downwards at the interruption. 
You smiled in response. 
“What’s the meaning of this?” One of them spoke, the Jersey accent strong and thick and coating his words generously. “We’re doin’ business here, sweetheart. Bounce!” 
You glanced at the man, unfazed before you turned your gaze towards Nico who was watching you with interested eyes. “I need to talk to you.” 
“We are busy here, lady, can’t you see?” The other man spoke, huffing and puffing in his seat and it took everything inside you not to roll your eyes at his tantrum. 
“And now I’m busy with him,” you stated simply, arms crossed over your chest as you stepped further into the room. “Scram. You are done here.” 
The first man huffed, puffing his chest out as he opened his mouth to say something but Nico cut him off. 
“Go.” 
Both men turned to Nico, angry and outraged. “You cannot be serious?!” 
“Go,” Nico repeated himself, a little more firmly this time. 
The men were smart enough not to test Nico’s patience any further, rushing out the room with their tails between their legs as they did. It almost made you smile the way they avoided your gaze as they did so. You heard Luke let out a sigh behind you, muttering something under his breath as he followed the other men out and closed the door behind him. 
“You’ve intrigued me,” Nico spoke up, leaning back against his chair. “What could possibly be so important that you needed to discuss it with me?” 
You grinned as you lifted the folders in your hand. “Wedding venues.”
Nico blinked. “Wedding venues?” 
“Wedding venues,” you repeated, your eyes eagerly watching every inch of his face for a reaction. 
It took years of training to school your features as Nico nodded you over, still relaxed in his chair as he smiled back at you. Back in New York, a move like this would’ve gotten you killed and yet here—
“Show me,” he replied. 
Your eyes stayed on his face, waiting for a slip up as you walked towards his desk. You rounded the piece of furniture, pushing the boundary a little bit more as you hopped up on the desk and placed the folder down beside you rather than handing it to him. 
“Comfortable?” He asked, his voice almost sounding playful as he reached for the folder. 
“I’ve sat on more comfortable desks,” you commented offhandedly. 
His eyes darkened a little at that. But before you could even bring yourself to comment on it, he was already opening the folder and scanning through the options. 
They were obscene, if you were completely honest. They were tacky and loud and far from a place you would even step foot in, let alone have your wedding in. But they were expensive—so expensive that it would send a normal man into cardiac arrest to see the numbers beside each venue. 
Then again, Nico Hischier wasn’t a normal man. 
“Which one would make you happiest?” He eventually asked, lifting his head to look at you expectantly. 
Your eyes narrowed. “Are you that incapable of making a decision, Hischier?” 
His lips twitched. “And if I say I just want you happy?”
“I would say that is a weak man’s response,” you replied, lifting your chin a little. It was a testy comment to make, not one that many men in power would take lightly. 
To your shock, Nico just laughed. “Then I say pick the church.” 
You raised your brows a little—the church was the most expensive option on the list. 
“Do you disagree?” Nico followed up, watching the way you stared at him with an odd look in your eyes.
“No,” you said as you took the folder from him. “The church will do.”
“Is that all?” Nico asked, something in his voice that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It was like he was eager, whether that was for you to leave or stay, you couldn’t quite work out.
“Yes,” you answered, though you made no move to slide off the desk just yet. “Seeing as I have nothing else to do in this place. Just a sweet, complying fiancée doing her duties and planning a wedding.” 
Nico’s eyes glimmered in interest. “Sweet sums you up pretty well, no?” 
Your eyes narrowed in a glare. 
“I mean, by all means, take the honeymoon planning off my hands if that is what you want,” Nico continued, shifting a bit closer so your foot was nudging his thigh. You were almost distracted by the casual drop of information about the honeymoon he was apparently planning.
“You’re mocking me,” you stated bluntly.
“A little,” he mused.
“You know my reputation,” you added. “Surely you knew what kind of wife I would be.”
“I had my guesses,” Nico confirmed with a nod.
“And yet, here we are.” 
“Here we are indeed,” Nico grinned. “Do you want to reserve the venue or shall I?”
It was safe to say Luke steered clear of you for the rest of the day following your mood after you left Nico’s study.
“You don’t get it,” Luke huffed, fingers tapping along the wheel. “This is the best bakery on the east coast, maybe even the whole country!”
You raised your brows. “Is that so?”
“Just wait until you try Peter’s strawberry tarts,” Luke insisted, so serious that it took everything inside you to not snort. “It’s like…heaven in your mouth.” 
“Peter is just that good, huh?” You mused.
“You’re teasing me now but you will be wanting the guy to make your wedding cake after you try some of his desserts,” Luke stated confidently. 
You had no real plan for today other than the desperate need to get out of the house. You were bored out of your mind and Luke was not too far behind, considering you spent almost every waking hour with the boy. It had been an offhand comment about wanting something sweet that made the boy grab your hand and drag you out of the house.
Luke was adamant that Peter’s Bakery in Hoboken was the best bakery in the state. You had been content to just sit in the passenger seat and let the younger boy ramble on about how all the Devils frequented there, that Candy was known to visit once a week, that Jack tended to hide out there after a particularly bad day. 
It was endearing to hear about the place. 
It was even more endearing that Luke trusted you enough to take you there, even if you wouldn’t dare to admit that out loud.
“Pete?” 
“One sec!” 
Luke glanced at you over his shoulder, grinning wider than you had ever seen before turning back to the counter. A few moments passed before a man walked out: brown hair, average build, a little mousy looking. And the apron covered in flour truly added to the baker charm.
“Moose,” the boy greeted with a large smile. “What can I get for my second favourite Hughes?” 
Luke rolled his eyes but began listing off far too many pastries and sweet treats for two people to enjoy. 
Five minutes later, you found yourself sitting across from the boy in a booth with a large variety of baked goods laid out on the table in front of you. It was borderline overwhelming and intense but you didn’t have the heart to stop Luke from ordering so much when he kept insisting on all the classics you had to try.
“So,” you began as the boy pushed a slice of apple pie towards you. “Moose?” 
“It’s an old nickname,” Luke answered with a halfhearted shrug. 
You raised a brow. “How old?”
Luke’s lips twitched. “Peter is an old friend of mine and Jack’s. He…he’s been there for us through a lot.” 
“Because our line of business crosses paths with bakers so often,” you mused, lighthearted and playful. You could tell the words were heavier than he was letting on but you didn’t have the heart to start poking at old wounds. Not today.
Luke snorted. “Nah, he needed to lay low after some close calls. He made some deal with Nico. Boss offers him protection, he offers the best apple pie you will ever have in your entire life.”
You shot a glance towards the other boy, working away behind the counter with a sense of ease that told you he was comfortable, that he felt safe even being so out in the open and exposed to the public. It wasn’t something you saw often in this industry when people had a target on their back. 
“He did?” You asked, your voice a little softer than before. 
“He’s a good guy, you know,” Luke murmured in response, watching your expression closely. 
“He has a reputation for being fair,” you commented absentmindedly. “Which is a load of bullshit when it comes to our work.” 
“Not with Nico,” Luke retorted. “He is harsh when he needs to be. But he is understanding. He gets it.”
“Hm,” was all you could respond with, your mind spiralling with a million different stories of men in power that exploited and corrupted the world around them in the greedy hunt for more. You had seen men crumble under that desire, you had seen them sacrifice their lives and loved ones to get what they want. 
You couldn’t imagine someone having all that power and not being corrupted by it. 
“Hey,” Luke whined, all youngest child like, as he lightly kicked your shin under the table. “Stop procrastinating and try the pie!” 
You rolled your eyes, making a show of grabbing the fork and cutting off a good sized chunk before shovelling it in your mouth.
Luke looked at you expectantly. “So?” 
“It’s good.” 
He blinked before frowning. “Just good? Are your taste buds broken?” 
“Fine, it’s very good,” you corrected with a small smile on your lips. “But it’s not the best apple pie I have ever had.” 
Luke raised his brows. “Oh yeah? And where was that?” 
“Tony’s Tiny Bakery,” you shot back, watching as the boy huffed across from you. “It was around the corner from this cute Italian place that did amazing garlic bread too. I’ll have to take you one day, it’s only—” 
And then you paused. 
And it was stupid to say when you had quite literally spent the better part of the last few weeks in your new home, when you had been coming up to the three month mark in New Jersey. But it hit you that you would never see New York again, not in the way you had growing up. 
You were a New Jersey Devil now. You had a new home and new territory. You had a new family you were supposed to be accepting. You weren’t able to step back in the city you grew up in, not without direct permission from the people you used to call your family. 
You had been so pissed that day when Jacob had thrown you into the deep end of an arranged marriage you had never known about that you wanted to get him back, you wanted to hit him where it hurt and have one last act of defiance. You had walked away from New York with no proper goodbye because you knew it wasn’t what he wanted. 
And truthfully, it wasn’t what you wanted either. 
You never got the chance to say goodbye to such a large part of your life and identity. You never got the chance to say goodbye to the people who raised you and the people you grew up with. You never got the chance to visit your favourite places in New York with the freedom of being a Ranger before you jumped ship. 
It never really hit you that you missed New York as much as you did.
“I get it.” 
You almost jumped in your seat when you felt a hand over your own, when you blinked away the tears welling up in your eyes to find Luke smiling fondly from the other side of the booth. You tried to pull your hand away and pretend everything was okay, but the boy tightened his hold on you.
“I know what it’s like to leave the only place you called home,” Luke murmured, his voice soft but thick with emotion. “It gets easier.” 
You nodded, swallowing the ball in the back of your throat before you flashed him a small smile. “This apple pie is pretty damn good.” 
Luke’s smile widened. “Of course it is. I don’t mess around when it comes to food, Rogue. Catch up.” 
You let out a small but genuine laugh in response. 
“How quickly can you get dressed?” 
Your eyes wandered over your magazine page towards the boy standing at the bottom of the couch you were currently laying on. He was dressed in his usual attire—the shirt, dress pants and nice shoes that probably cost more than the average man’s monthly salary—and raised your brows. 
“Depends,” you answered as you lowered the magazine you were halfheartedly reading to rest on your stomach. “Get dressed as in ‘we are walking around the park’ or ‘we are about to go to a gala’?” 
Nico smiled a little. “More ‘wear something that is comfortable and easy to carry guns on you’.”
Now that caught your attention.
You sat up on the couch, the magazine abandoned on the pillow beside you as you stared at the boy with interest. “You’re taking me on a job?” 
“I was hoping to use your expertise for something,” Nico said with gentle but watchful eyes. “Are you in?” 
“Give me fifteen minutes,” was all you responded with before walking past the boy and towards your bedroom.
Less than thirty minutes later, you found yourself slipping out of Nico’s car and looking at the absolute mess in front of you with raised brows, a low whistle of surprise leaving your lips as you took in the damaged property. 
“And this was done recently?” 
“Two weeks ago,” Nico confirmed with a nod, frowning at the warehouse with a look of frustration and annoyance. “Third warehouse chosen. Fourth targeted attack.” 
You glanced at him. “What was the other?” 
“A person,” Nico frowned. “We were lucky that their plan failed, which is why I assume they began to target buildings instead.”
“Coward move,” you frowned, choosing to ignore the way Nico snorted a little at your response. “What did the warehouse hold?” 
“Just some of our basic exports,” Nico shrugged.
Your eyes widened a little.
He frowned. “What?” 
“Nothing,” you shrugged, clearly your throat a little. “Just a little surprised you told me, to be honest. I thought you would have given some weird elusive answer.” 
His frown deepened a little. “Why would I do that?” 
“Because I’m a glorified stranger,” you retorted like it was obvious. 
“You’re my fiancée,” Nico corrected, his voice still serious and sincere as he spoke. “What’s mine is yours.” 
You swallowed a little at his intensity. “So this mess is mine too?” 
“Just like everything else I own,” he said with a nod. “And as much as is your right to be here as my fiancée, I also brought you because you’re smart. Because you know how to get in people’s heads. Because you’ll be able to spot things neither me nor the others will see.” 
“Trouba’s favourite tool,” you deadpanned.
“You’re your own person here, Rogue,” Nico assured you, something else written in his expression that you couldn’t quite read. “It’s something you should get used to. You’re a Devil now.”
You didn’t get much of a chance to reply before he wandered towards the desolate warehouse, footsteps crunching with every step he took whilst you were left slightly baffled by the enigma that was Nico Hischier. 
“So, is she in love with you yet?” 
Nico shot Jack a look. 
“Because from what Luke’s told me, she has been doing everything under the sun to piss you off. And I’m no expert in love but that doesn’t seem like something someone in love would do,” Jack continued as he settled happily on the couch in Nico’s study—one of his favourite spots.
“Did I not give you a job?” Nico asked bluntly, leaning back in his chair and sighing. He knew there was no point of attempting to do any more work whilst the younger boy was in the room.
“Yeah but we both know I’ll get to it eventually,” he waved the older man off, his hands tucked behind his head as he lounged back on the comfy couch. “This is far more entertaining.” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nico sniffed. 
“I have seen you shoot a man between his eyes without a second thought,” Jack mused, the glee in his voice unmissable as he continued to tease the older man. “And yet, I watched you have a full breakdown to Dougie on whether or not your fiancée would prefer your hair slick back or product free on the off chance you bumped into her that day.” 
“I like to make a good impression,” Nico retorted. 
“You’re trying to seduce her and failing miserably,” Jack shot back.
“She is my fiancée,” Nico huffed out. 
“She is the girl you have been downright obsessed with since she knocked you on your ass four years ago,” Jack corrected. “And she doesn’t even remember.” 
“I was undercover,” Nico defended. “Pally hardly recognised me that day, too.”
“Are you listening to yourself, Hisch?” Jack questioned, his brows raised in amusement. “This is getting a little pathetic.” 
Nico let out a heavy sigh, raising his hand towards Jack for him to continue. “Okay then, what do you suggest?” 
“Less mind games and playing the elusive mob boss character you’ve been trying out,” Jack answered, his voice a hint softer than before and it caught him off guard, “Be Nico—the real version.” 
“That was very High School Musical of you,” Nico teased. 
“I knew it was a bad idea letting you watch those movies,” Jack playfully groaned but he was grinning back. “I take it back, put the scary mob boss face back on. She is gonna laugh you back to Switzerland if you quote that shit to her.”
“She could be a fan,” Nico pointed out.
But Jack just shot him a look. “I know you’re blinded by love and all that jazz, but even you have to know that is a load of bullshit.”
“Go do you work now, Jack.” 
The younger boy gave him a mock salute. “On it, Boss.” 
In your mind, the plan was full proof, effective and successful. 
In reality, it was a form of torture that didn’t have the results you wanted and instead left your brain scrambled on whether you really wanted it to work or not.
When you stepped out of that meeting room months ago, you were under the impression you were stuck in this arranged marriage with Nico Hishcier. A week later, you thought you had a loophole and a clear path back to New York and the life you had. 
Instead, you were laying in your bed and reeling that although you may not be the typical mob wife, Nico Hishcier was far from the typical mob boss. And it was completely fucking with your plan. 
And maybe you weren’t fully ready to admit it but it was fucking with your desire to go back home too—if New York even felt like home anymore. New Jersey was a breath of fresh air that you never knew you needed, that you never knew you wanted. 
The Rangers may have been your family once upon a time, but the Devils felt more like the word than the former ever had. You felt like you were watching the family of them through a window, and you were starting to realise maybe being on the inside wouldn’t be so bad as you thought. Maybe being in a place where they valued and listened to you wouldn’t be so bad either. 
But New York was all you ever knew, was all you ever thrived in. It was hard to just throw that all away. 
Even if Nico Hischier was making the option of staying very appealing. 
Even when some of the other Devils—the ones that weren’t your biggest fans—felt more welcoming than the boys back in New York. 
Exhibit A: Jesper Bratt. 
Nico had pulled Luke out for the day, saying he needed the boy’s help with a different job. He hadn’t offered to put anyone in Luke’s place. To be honest, you think Luke was only continuing with it because he enjoyed spending time with you too. But it had been Jesper who offered himself into Luke’s role when you had mentioned visiting a few shops in town by yourself. 
It didn’t take a genius to work out he was suspicious of you.
You didn’t take it to heart, not really. He wasn’t going out of his way to make you uncomfortable or wary, but the lingering tension was enough to make you observe him with the same watchful gaze. 
“You don’t like me.” 
Jesper’s eyes flickered to meet yours in the rearview mirror before returning to the road. “I never said that.” 
“You didn’t have to,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “It’s written all over your face. And the extra gun you slipped into your waistband before we left.” 
His cheeks burned a little at your words. 
“It’s fine,” you assured him. “You’re his second-in-command. It’s your job to be wary, to have Nico’s back.” 
Jesper hummed but didn’t say anything right away. 
Instead, a few minutes of silence passed as you two made your way through usual Jersey traffic. The radio was on, but turned on so low that the two of you could barely hear it. The streets were busy, even for a random Thursday afternoon. It was like the world was going on as normal, despite the lingering tension in the car between you and the blond.
“I do like you,” Jesper said eventually. “I just don’t trust you.” 
“Because you think I’m going to betray the Devils?” You guessed. 
“Because I think you are capable of hurting Nico far worse than a gunshot or a knife in the back ever could,” Jesper corrected, seeming to catch the surprise on your face.
“You think I would hurt him?” You questioned, ignoring the way your stomach twisted at the words. Growing up in this life had meant you had seen far worse than a gunshot or a knife in the back, had meant you had done much worse. And yet the idea of any of it being directed towards Nico seemed to leave you on edge and make the hairs on the back of your neck rise.
“I think you are capable of a lot without even realising it,” Jesper answered honestly. 
You didn’t reply to the blond but you wondered if your return to New York would hurt Nico. 
You wondered why it made your chest feel tight and uncomfortable. 
“So how did you get the nickname?” 
You blinked out of your thoughts, looking over at Luke who was walking by your side. “What?” 
“Rogue,” he said with a nod, like that was enough of an explanation. “Nicknames stick in this industry. So, where did you…go rogue to get it?”
You let out a small snort of laughter. “How do you not know it’s my actual name?” 
Luke glanced at you, his brows furrowed together. “Is it?” 
“No,” you grinned at him before shrugging. “I don’t know, to be honest. I just…never did well with listening to people’s instructions. It was a nickname my father gave me and I guess it just stuck.” 
“You listened when Trouba sent you here though,” Luke pointed out, unfazed by the glare you sent his way. You assumed that was bound to happen after you spent almost every day with the boy for the last few months or so. He was bound to feel comfortable enough to poke at the uncomfortable subjects.
“Because I’m stubborn not stupid,” you shot back, giving the boy a look. “I value my life.” 
Luke frowned. “You think he would’ve killed you if you didn’t comply?” 
“He’s killed people for less,” you shrugged but noted the way the boy still looked uncomfortable, unsettled even. “He wouldn’t have killed me. I’m too valuable, even if I’m disrespecting him. He probably would’ve just put me on some really shit jobs until his ego was healed.” 
Luke nodded, still looking quite on edge. 
“Luke,” you stopped walking, placing your hand on his arm to catch his attention and make him stop too. Logically, you knew that he was a grown man and he could handle his own emotions. Especially in an industry like this. But another part of you—the part that had spent the last few months with the boy almost every day—felt the need to wipe that frown off his face. “It’s fine now. And it doesn’t matter.” 
“Does it not?” Luke shot back at you. “You’ve been trying your hardest to find a loophole out of here, have you not? But you still want to go back there? Back to him? Even after everything he’s done to you?”
You blinked. 
“I’m young but I’m not stupid,” Luke huffed out, shaking his head as he took a step back. “It’s—whatever. Let’s just go. You said you wanted to check out that shoe store?” 
You took a step forward. “Luke—”
“We should head over now before heading back to the house. We—” He paused before continuing. “I don’t want to be late for dinner.”
You didn’t see Luke over the next few days. 
He had sent a brief message about being busy wrapped up in a job Nico gave him, which albeit wasn’t the best excuse but you let him off. You weren’t sure what upset him and you didn’t think poking around and asking more questions would do any favours. So, you let the boy take his space and take his time. 
It was Luke. 
You had no doubts that he would talk to you again when he wasn’t as worked up or upset about the situation. 
But the lack of daily companion left you feeling quite lonely, which was ironic considering you had considered your whole stay in New Jersey to be quite lonely as an outcast. You hadn’t realised just how much you relied on Luke’s company until he wasn’t knocking on your door every morning, convincing you to try some new outrageously overpriced cafe using Nico’s card to pay. 
You broke around the third day, deciding to seek out your own company in the form of your fiancé.
“I was told you would be here.” 
Nico lifted his head, peeking out from under the hood of the car he was currently hunched over. He glanced at you, an expression between surprised and elated as you stood on the opposite side of the garage.
“Is that so?” 
“Mhm,” you nodded, glancing around the large garage with eagle eyes. “Apparently this is how you spend your limited free time.”
Nico stood up straight, giving you a full look at the white tank top clinging onto his torso. It was criminal the way wiped his hands on a random rag, his biceps clenching with the movement before he tossed it to the side and gave you his full attention.
“I like fixing up old cars,” Nico said with a shrug, though there was a sense of ease in his posture. “It’s relaxing.” 
You blinked. “Tinkering around with some old metal is calming? Even if you can’t get it running?”
He laughed. “It takes my mind off things.” 
“How…mundane,” you responded, your brows furrowed together as you glanced at the few cars dotted around the garage. You didn’t know enough to know the brands or names of any of them. You didn’t even try to attempt it. 
“Mundane is nice sometimes, especially with the lives we live,” Nico retorted and you were inclined to agree. 
“This still seems stressful though,” you added. 
Nico leaned against the car, arms crossed over his chest like he knew it would snag your gaze. “And what would you recommend I do?” 
“I don’t know, something normal people do to relax,” you shrugged your shoulders. “Like, go on a picnic.” 
Nico paused, staring at you as he tried to fight the grin off his face. “A picnic?” 
“I don’t know!” You threw your hands up in mock surrender. “People do it all the time in movies and shit.”
“What movies are you watching?” Nico laughed, though he seemed to enjoy watching the way you tried to hold back your own amusement. 
“They have picnics in plenty of movies,” you argued back. 
“Alright then,” Nico nodded. “Then we will do it. You and me, tomorrow at twelve.” 
You blinked. “What?” 
“We are gonna have a picnic and be normal,” Nico stated, leaving no room for questions as he reached for the rag once again. “Unless you have some super normal thing you do to take your mind off things to do instead?” 
You bit the inside of your cheek. “Shooting range.”
“That’s what I thought,” he snorted as he flashed you a grin. “Me and you, schatz, at twelve. Don’t be late.” 
A small part of you thought Nico was joking about the picnic. 
A larger part of you knew the boy would be knocking on your door by half past eleven, dressed in a pair of jeans and a hoodie and looking so normal. So unlike the mob boss you know him to be. 
And the white bucket hat on his head was oddly endearing. 
In complete honesty, you hadn’t expected much from the picnic and how seriously the boy would take it. Though, you should have known better when he parked his car, an excited smile on his face as he led you towards the grassy patch in the park where a blanket and wicker basket had been laid out. 
“Oh wow,” you murmured out as you walked towards the scene, his palm warm and guiding on the small of your back. 
“Really fits the movie vibes, huh?” Nico retorted with a knowing smile.
You snorted. “I feel so normal right now.”
“Then my job here is done,” he smiled as he leaned back on the blanket, balanced on his elbows as he looked up at you. 
You were surprised how far he ran with a passive comment. You wondered what it must have looked like to people passing by the two of you, if you looked like a normal couple on a date, enjoying a sweet picnic together. You wondered if it even counted as a date at all. 
It was ironic that the man beside you had been your fiancé for the better part of the last four months and you didn’t know much about him, that neither of you knew each other all that well. 
“What’s your favourite colour?” 
Nico paused, looking up from the small plates he was loading up for the two of you. “My favourite colour?” 
“Yeah,” you nodded. 
“Red.”
“Favourite kind of music?” 
“Swiss rap.” 
“Favourite animal?” 
“I don’t think I have one.” 
“Cat person or dog person?” 
“Both.” 
Your nose scrunched up. “You can’t be both. That’s cheating.” 
Nico raised his brows in amusement. “I don’t think I can cheat at a game I don’t know.” 
“Just wanted to know what kind of man I am marrying,” you replied with a shrug of your shoulders. 
“Is there where you tell me that being a cat person is your deal breaker?” Nico joked.
Your lips twitched. “It would be something I would have to take into consideration.” 
“Might have to keep some secrets to save my marriage then,” Nico said with a sigh, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he smiled. You don’t think you had ever noticed that before. It was weird seeing someone in his position show any emotion but intimidation so easily. 
You raised your brows. “Doesn’t everyone have a few skeletons in the closet?” 
“Is this your subtle way of asking me what mine are?” He questioned, pushing the plate towards you. You were surprised to find a few of your favourite snacks on the plate. You wondered if he had bothered Luke or someone else to find out, or if it was a lucky guess.
“Would you tell me if I asked?” You shot back.
“I would tell you anything if you asked,” Nico replied, the playfulness replaced by sincerity that made your brain spiral a little.
“You know,” you tried to laugh it off. “I don’t think many people in this life agree with you there.”
“I’m not them and you’re not their fiancée,” he answered with a shrug. “Who gives a fuck what they think?” 
You looked at him with a mixed expression. “And you’d answer anything I ask you right now?”
He gestured for you to continue. “Try me.”
You tilted your head, taking a few moments to contemplate before you spoke. “Did you know I was going to be the one waiting for you in that room?” 
“I did,” he confirmed with a nod.
“And you had no issues with that?” 
His lips twitched. “Quite the opposite.” 
You shot him a curious look. “And if Jacob had lied to you? If there was someone else in the room?”
“I would have refused the alliance,” he stated simply, like he was reiterating a well-known fact.
You snorted. “Yeah, okay.” 
“I would have,” Nico insisted, his expression remaining dead serious.
Your smile faltered a little. “Nico.” 
“Rogue,” he mocked in the same tone of voice.
“You don’t have to lie to me,” you murmured.
Nico frowned. “Who said I was lying?” 
“You would have refused an alliance that would massively benefit you?” You retorted, your brows furrowed a little. “Don’t be stupid.” 
“Both sides went into that alliance wanting something,” Nico answered with a heavy look in his eyes, one that you couldn’t quite read. “I knew what I wanted and I wasn’t signing shit for anything but that.” 
“And that was me?” You teased because the conversation was getting serious and your heart felt like it was in your throat and you were pretty sure you would lose your mind if Nico kept staring at you with those intense eyes. You were also pretty sure you would lose your mind if he looked away.
“Yes.” 
You blinked, waiting for him to laugh but he didn’t. 
“What?”
“I think you heard me clearly enough the first time,” Nico mused, watching the way a million emotions passed over your face.
“Oh,” was the only response you could come up with. 
“Still don’t believe me?” Nico questioned, something like amusement in his voice. Something quite like a challenge too. Like he was expecting you to call him out on it, like he had been waiting for the chance to prove himself.
“And if I don’t?” You murmured, a little more breathless than you intended.
You watched as his eyes dropped to your lips, lingering for a few moments. “Then I’ll find a way to prove it.” 
You opened your mouth to say something, though you weren’t even sure what. You didn’t know if you were going to beg for him to do it, to prove it. You didn’t know if you were going to tell him to stop playing whatever game he was playing. You didn’t know if you were going to tell him to fuck the vague, elusive chat and to just fucking kiss you already. 
You were pretty sure it was most likely going to be the last option.
But you never got the chance to even utter a word before the loud, high-pitched shrill of a phone broke the moment.
You blinked, quickly glancing away and taking a few moments to ground yourself as Nico quickly sat up on the blanket. He patted his pockets before slipping his phone out, answering it with a slight peeved off look on his face.
However, that quickly changed when the person on the other side of the phone began speaking, the words muffled but the urgent tone was clear even to you.
It took less than a few seconds before Nico was scrambling to get up, abandoning the basket and blanket before he nodded for you to get up too. His hand was a little more pushy as he directed you towards his car, his face serious and almost murderous as he quickly got in the car, racing to turn it on.
“It’s Jack,” was all Nico could mutter out for context before the two of you were racing towards the house.
.
616 notes · View notes
kokomyass · 5 months ago
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Genshin headcannons ☆ Traveller finding out that you are in a relationship with genshin characters pt.3
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Genshin x Fem!Reader
Genre: ☁️
Trigger warnings ⚠️: none!!
featuring: Itto, Tighnari, Lyney
synopsis: in which, traveller and paimon find out you are an ✨️ITEM✨️!!!
Notes: for itto you are part of the L/N (last name) clan, for tighnari you are a forest ranger and for lyney you are his wonderful assistant!!
a/n: thank you anon for the request I enjoy writing these and it makes me giggle with I write them because I feel like I can imagine them happening....anyways enjoy lovlies!!
Itto
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The Traveller and Paimon had found themselves in Inazuma again, this time just for some fun.
To their suprise one of the first people they encountered was the infamous Arataki Gang having what seemed to be a meeting in the middle of nowhere making an absolute ruckus with Shinobu stood with her arms crossed wishing she was somewhere else.
"Alright, gang! Today's meeting is super important! We gotta decide what to buy for our new, amazing, drop dead gorgeous, special member....AKA my girlfriend!" Arataki Itto's voice echoed.
"Well, if it isn't Bull Chucker! Fancy seeing you hear...making a LOT of noise as usual...." Itto turned his head and noticed the Traveller and Paimon making their way to where he was stood, a beam making its way on his face.
"Well, if it's isn't my amigos, the Traveller and little Lavender Melon Paimon!!" he boomed out.
"Hello, Traveller and Paimon it is nice to see you once again." Kuki said calmly in contrast to Itto's voice.
"Hey guys! Nice to see you too! What are you all up too? You seem awfully excited Itto....well more excited than usual..." Paimon asked with confusion.
"Well I am glad you asked, we have a newest member who also happens to be-"
Before Itto could finish his sentence, you approached, holding a pot that steamed with a delicious aroma.
You had a confident yet gentle smile on your face as Itto looked at you mesmerised. The Traveller definitely didn't miss this romantic gaze.
"Sorry I'm late, everyone," you said, setting the pot down. "I brought food for everyone too eat!"
"Y/N! You're just in time! Everyone, meet Y/N from the L/N clan AND my girlfriend. She has joined the Arataki gang to be in charge of making meals, since she loves to cook for people!"
"Hello all, nice to meet you. I have heard so much about you! All good things don't worry!" You chuckle as Paimon and The traveller looked back and forth between you and Itto looking stunned.
"The L/N clan?!?! How on earth did you pull a member of the rich, powerful and famous L/N clan? I suppose your good at some things...."
"HUH?! Shut it Lavender Melon!! The way we met isn't important-"
"Oh, it's rather romantic, don't you think Itto!" you wrapped your arm around Itto's after interrupting him and resting your head on his arm, as he sweatdropped.
"He broke into my residence to get some flowers, but I caught him and then we got chatting and obviously I fell in love with him!"
"WHAT?!?!?" Paimon and The traveller shouted as you and Kuki laughed and Itto couldn't look up.
"What can I say....I am a charisma king, I must say!"
Tighnari
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Despite being in a relationship with the smartest person you know, his knowledge clearly didn't rub off on you because you felt like you were getting dumber by the day.
It all started when Tighnari had asked you and Collei to go identify some mushrooms to distinguish if the were edible or not to update the Avidya Forest Survival Guide.
After seeing a mushrooms that 'had to be edible' in your terms you decided to take a bite. Whilst the flavour was lovely to start off the with dizziness that came after was a clear indicator that it was probably poisonous
"Collei! Who is this and what's going on?!" you see through your lidded eyes a high pitched flying fairy and someone who looks like they are from out of Teyvat.
"Traveller, Paimon! Perfect timing! There is no time to explain but please help me take her to Master Tighnari!!"
Next thing you know you pass out completely and wake up with Tighnari sat on your bed checking your temperature and checking for any rashes.
"Tigh...nari??" you mumble reaching for him as he holds your hand.
"Ah Y/N, you are awake. Now what did I tell you and what have I always told you about the mushrooms you eat? What made you think eating this mushroom would benefit you! You have to listen to me or worse things could happen and you-" He stopped rambling and let out a big sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I'm sorry, Nari...I promise I won't do it again..." you were now sat up looking guilty as he engulfed you in a hug that you reciprocated.
"Don't worry, just....be careful. I don't want to lose you."
"AHEM!!! Sorry to interrupt but the are still 2 very confused people stood here!!" Paimon burst out.
"My apologies, this Y/N a forest ranger and my girlfriend, she also takes care of Collei from time to time. Y/N, this is the Traveller and Paimon that I have told you about." Tighnari casually said patting your head as he got up to go to his table.
"Hey guys! It is a pleasure to meet you! I apologise for the circumstances...I can be rather clumsy at times..." you chuckle slightly as you sweatdropped.
"Nice to meet you too! I hope we become close friends! We didn't know you had a girlfriend Tighnari....it must be refreshing since you are opposites"
"Quite! It Master Tighnari says no about something I can go to Master Y/N and she will say yes!!" Collei happily exposes you and herself as you sweatdrop and Tighnari's head snaps back.
"COLLEI!!" both you and Tighnari shout as the Traveller and Paimon sit there chuckling.
Lyney
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It was very dark at night and the Traveller and Paimon had just finished doing a commission for Katheryne and decided that the weather was nice enough to go on a scenic walk.
What they didn't expect to see on a cliff was a figure who looked like Lyney and another figure opposite him sat on a picnic blanket.
After some consideration they both mutually decided to approach you both.
What they didn't know is that you and Lyney were on a date, something you barely went on due to being busy. Lyney was the most romantic person you know and he always knew how to show you magic that you had never seen before that sent your heart aflame.
"My dearest rainbow rose, it pains me we cannot spend time together as romantically as we used to...when we are at work we are forced to keep is hidden..."
He holds your hands tightly and when he removes them a rainbow rose was in one hand and a box of expensive chocolates was in your other's you embrace each other.
"Uhhh, I hope we aren't interrupting anything...." Paimon suddenly speaks up scaring you both as you jolt away from each other pretending nothing happened.
"O-oh Traveller and Paimon!! What are you doing here?? I mean nice to see you again...." Lyney chuckles nervously as he hadn't intended for anyone to see him and you. You relationship was secret after all.
"Nice to see you too....but we should be asking what you are doing here embracing a woman!! And why do you look suspicious?!" Paimon laid all the questions on him, he let out a sigh giving up.
"Well, this woman here is Y/N, my personal assistant and also....my girlfriend. We have been keeping our relationship secret because it's a personal thing we don't want others to see."
"Hello Traveller and Paimon! It's lovely to meet you! Lyney has nothing but praises for you both!" you speak up smiling warmly.
"Hi there Y/N, nice to meet you too!! We are shocked you have a girlfriend Lyney considering how secretive you are...."
Lyney let out a heartly laugh intertwining his hand with yours.
"Well, I too would've said that 1 year ago but Y/N managed to steal a magicians heart, the hardest trick of all." Lyney looks at you lovingly as you look back at him lovingly too.
"Well, you guys are so wholesome and sweet, we are in support of your secret-"
"CLICK!!"
Everyones head snapped around to see Charlotte the Journalist taking pictures.
"CHARLOTTE NO!!" everyone shouted as The Traveller and Paimon sais their farewells and quickly caught her making sure she deleted those photos for good.
~•○☆○•~~•○☆○•~~•○☆○•~~•○☆○•~~•○☆○•~
a/n: thank you once again for the amazing request and if anyone wants anymore of these or anything help lemme know and I'll try my best!! love you all 💜🌙💜🌙💜🌙
333 notes · View notes
fallingdownhell · 11 months ago
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How do you think the Sumeru boys would react to their s/o getting shrunk?
An interesting scenario... 👀 Characters Included: Tighnari; Cyno; Alhaitham; Kaveh (+Wanderer) Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; idk if this classifies as crack??; bit of comedy; bits of fluff Word count: 910 words Have fun<3
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Tighnari
I personally see this going one of two ways
first, when realizing what has happened, he'd drop everything, all his work and responsibilities, and try to figure out how this happened and how to turn you back to normal again
or, he would want to do that, but he just can't because something really important is happening today... then, as shitty as this sounds, he'd just take you along with him, like in a backpack or pocket or something. Because he does not trust that nothing won't happen to you while he's out and about
whichever it is, he'd be very gentle with your tiny form and take very good care of you
when first noticing your current predicament, Tighnari would be shocked, maybe laugh a little bit, but he'd soon focus on helping you figure things out
he's not too keen on you staying this way for a longer period of time, or even forever, so he'd work hard on finding a solution
overall okay reaction, very helpful and polite about it, though he does put out an occaisonal comment here and there. But it's all in good fun, so don't worry
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Cyno
oh boy
you best prepare to be the butt of every of his jokes for the foreseeable future from now on
even if you manage to turn you back to normal, he will not let you forget about this incident, ever
would probably laugh at you, questioning you how you even managed that in the first place
but all jokes aside, he IS worried about you, so he does the only thing he can think about
he grabs you very carefully and carries you to Tighnari, hoping that his friend and Forest Ranger might know or can help to come up with a solution to the problem
he'll stay there with you until you're back to normal, that means that his work will be put on hold, no matter what anyone has to say about it
will turn restless and worried if there's no easy or quick solution available, but will do his best to support you, even though he will still make jokes about you
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Alhaitham
shock and surprise is his first initial reaction
like, frozen on his spot, kinda shocked
does not know how to react appropriately or what to say, at all. One of the few times in his life where he's actually speechless
once he's recovered from the shock, he's asking you a whole lot of question. If you remember how this happened, how you feel, if you noticed anything unusual, if you maybe know how to revert back, etc
just, literally any question that comes to his mind, really
he views this entire situation very neutral, like some sort of experiment that he wants to figure out
and since you're the only one affected and involved, it's only obvious that he asks you all these questions
plus, by answering them, he might be able to figure out what's going on and how to revert you back to normal
if he can't come up with a solution on his own, he'd go into the House of Daena, searching for every book available that is loosely connected to the issue at hand
should that still not deliver results, he'll help you consult doctors and other specialists in order to help you get better again
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Kaveh
full on panic mode activated
he sees what has happened to you, and freaks out over it
almost impossible to calm him down again. And since your voice is a lot quieter in your tiny form, you have to almost shout out your lungs in order to get his attention again
out of the two of you, you're definitely the calmer and more levelheaded one in this situation
he's helping you with whatever you need. When you ask him to take you to the doctors, he does so, no questions asked
though you have to constantly remind him to not squeeze you so hard in his hands
cut him some slack, will you? He's not used to something like this, he has to constantly remind himself to treat you carefully and gently
will freak out again if no one can figure out what is wrong with you or how to treat you
he may not have much money, but you best believe he's putting every single Mora he has into trying to figure this out and get you back to your normal self
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Wanderer
shocked at first, but will soon start to tease you about it relentlessly
he'll lovingly call you names like "shorty", "shortcake", and other stuff, now that you're so much tinier than him
he's having his fun teasing you for some time, but in the end, he does worry about you and wants you back to your usual self
since he doesn't trust you to be by yourself while like this, he carefully picks you up when he goes to pay Nahida a visit, thinking that she might know something about what has happened to you
together, the three of you would put your heads together, trying to figure something out
would feel annoyed if you're still in this state by the end of the day, but tries not to show it. It's not your fault after all, and you can't really do anything about it, so he doesn't want to let it out on you
but you best believe that it's his top priority from now on to get to the bottom of this. And should he find out that someone else is responsible for this, then they best prepare , because he won't go easy on them should he ever come across them...
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fefern · 7 months ago
Note
OMFGGG I LOVED UR WUWA DATING HCS THEY WERE SOO CUTESHSJAJAJASNZJ<33 since your requests are currently open, can I request headcanons of wuwa Jiyan on how would he react to his s/o (gender neutral) who’d always swoon and admire the way he fights his enemies/protect others? Tyyyyyy!
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✧˖° admiring jiyan when he fights. | jiyan headcanons.
⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ synopsis: the general is the toughest guy around, and one amazing fighter too! what's it like when he catches you admiring his fighting skills?
⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ characters involved: jiyan, gender neutral reader.
⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ warnings: none! only a hint of suggestiveness if you really, really squint.
⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ notes: UWAHHH thank you for the kind compliment on my dating hc's, you're such a sweetheart (๑˘ᵕ˘)! i hope you enjoy this tons! requests are still open so send them as you please! (。•̀ᴗ-)✧
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ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅ jiyan ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
ever since you’ve come into his life, jiyan will sometimes bring you along when he trains or goes out on his daily rounds to make sure everything is going smoothly. 
he’s hesitant to agree at times when you ask to come along, mainly because he really cares about you and your safety (as both the general and your lover.)
very protective and almost overreactive to his surroundings, the slightest of sounds is enough for him to gently grab you and put you safely behind him.
when danger does arise on rounds, he’s swift to protect you, pulling out his weapon and eliminating the enemy with a precision that’s unlike anything anyone has ever seen. 
or, he’ll put multiple dummies on the ground and within a few seconds, they’re all chopped up into pieces as he wipes his brow and repeats the process. 
when he’s in his element like this, everything around him is a bit blocked out, but one day, he hears you gasping when he eliminates some tacet discords. 
he turns around, worried that you got hurt, but instead, there you are, admiring with a sparkle in your eye the way he eliminated those enemies. 
he’ll give you a small tilt of his head, asking you what he did to get you to look at him like that.
when you mention how good of a protector and fighter he is, he’ll try to brush it off as it just being his duty at first, but when you persist, he’ll feel a small blush creep onto his cheeks. 
he was so cool! the way he would slash enemies like it was nothing, how he'd look so calm and focused, how precise he was with his weapon, the more you take note of, the more his eyes widen.
jiyan will give a small smile to you, bowing a bit as a thank you. 
he has been a general for so long that fighting and protecting the people like this was second nature, so for you to find him cool while doing so makes him feel sheepish. 
“thank you, my love. until my last breath, i will continue to fight and protect you with everything i have.”
a few other points i thought of:
if you cheer after he’s done training, a few of the other midnight rangers will chuckle a bit at the enthusiasm. he waves them off, but his cheeks do turn a soft pink as he watches you hype him up.
once you pat him on the back where his tacet marks were and he was quick to take your hand. suggested you pat…elsewhere, for next time. those areas are sensitive after all.
one time, a tacet discord got close to him and broke the ponytail keeping his hair up. he finished them off easily, but having his hair flowing down behind him is enough for you to begin swooning again. your compliments on his hair make him give a small smile as you two walk along. 
(imagine his hair down,,,FROTHING AT THE MOUTH-)
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sunderingstars · 7 months ago
Note
don't be a coward, roll the dice 🎲
✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ DICE ROLL #43 — A BLOODY KISS ⌝
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based on this post!
word count: 1.4k
what the stars reveal: boothill x reader, gn!reader, boothill calls reader "darlin'," slight mentions of blood, i'm allergic to not putting a Narrative™ in everything i write
— thank you for the excuse to write angst cheerisse >:3
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Three days. That’s how long it had been since Boothill told you he’d return. Three long, grueling, torturous days. You thought you’d be used to it by now — the stretches of time he went radio silent for one reason or another, flickering out of your life like a candle. Yet, it was impossible to truly release.
Despite occupying such an important role in his life, a partner in all its meanings, it was so easy for him to dissipate, to leave wisps of smoke behind as his flame dwindled. It was the fleeting nature of a Galaxy Ranger, you knew, but you couldn’t understand. What was the point of making you worry? What was the point of those sleepless nights? 
On day one you had forced yourself to be patient. Quiet. You molded yourself to the chair at your workstation and sat, eyes roaming over the bits of machinery and time-worn tools scattered about. Once in a while, you’d even let yourself tinker with a piece or two, just to make sure everything was ready for his arrival. You had an important job after all; not just the maintenance of his body, but of his soul and mind. Nothing was quite as sweet as the moments your eyes met while tuning him.
But the second day began to gnaw at you. Twist, in your stomach, like snakes. Their sour venom began to leak into your mind, swirl your worries in a cocktail of potential tragedies, and you contemplated sending him a message. Just one. Enough to ease your mind, to let him know a small blip of you was waiting for him back home. After a few hours of pacing back and forth in your shared kitchen, you worked up the determination to do it.
… No response. Not at dinnertime, not in the evening, and certainly not in the early hours of the morning — most of which you lay painfully awake during. Only the cruel static of a blank screen remained, blinking once, twice, as it tried and failed to reach him among a sea of stars.
The third day was the worst. Everything seemed to compound, balloon out in your mind to the point it began to seep into other parts of your being. You bounced your leg, bit your fingernails, peeled at your lip without even registering it. Eventually, you made your way to the storage closet for some whiskey, if not to take the edge off then to at least give your mouth a diversion.
You had just popped open a bottle when you heard a clank. Immediately, you stilled. Listened again. The bottle, prone, hung in your grip.
Clank. 
It was outside, not in.
You were out the door faster than you could blink, legs weaving around rocks and brush as you trampled anything too small to get caught on. The sun was beginning to set, casting the arid landscape in darkening hues of pink and gold, but you knew this place like the back of your hand; the lengthening shadows did nothing to stop your pursuit. Under normal circumstances, you’d be more concerned about threats — wild animals, loose tools, even the stray IPC guard who managed to track down your location, but you didn’t care about any of that now. Not when Boothill was on the line. 
So you persisted. Drew closer to the noise as much as you could, eventually picking up an increase in frequency and the soft humming of a tired engine. You squinted. Then, you almost collapsed in relief; trundling down the paved dirt road was a motorbike. Boothill’s motorbike. It was a ghost of its former self, laden with loose parts and constant stuttering and a headlight practically severed from the rest, but it was his. 
Not wanting to waste any more time, you picked up your pace with a clear destination in mind. It’s not like he could properly run you over anyways. You were surprised the thing was even moving. 
“Boothill?” you called into the dusk. Out-of-breath and ragged, your mind began to filter through your fears, fearing silence, fearing stillness.
However, as the silhouette slowly resolved into familiarity, so too came a voice that pricked tears at your eyes.
“Yes, darlin’?”
Whatever sharp spark of anger coasted through your chest at the causal response fizzled into nothing once you laid eyes on his face. That signature smile, those red-tinted eyes, all backlit against the rays of a dying sun. Healthy. Whole. Alive. Once again, you felt as though your legs might give out. 
You made it just far enough to lean against the shuddering fuel tank before using the last of your willpower to vault yourself towards the open embrace of Boothill’s chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso. A hearty laugh sounded against you.
“Missed me that much, huh?”
You mumbled an unintelligible response. The loud hum of the bike became an irrelevant backdrop to the soft hum of metal and leather, the feeling of machinery quietly whirring against the skin of your cheek. No stutters, no pauses. Unlike the dying corpse below, Boothill was running smoothly. You breathed a sigh of relief.
“Why…?”
You didn’t have to finish your sentence before a sigh crested against the crown of your head. A hand, firm and comforting, came to rest on the back of your neck. “’M sorry, darlin’. Damn phone got busted. I knew you’d worry, but tryin’ to make a call in IPC territory was too risky.”
“It’s okay,” you mumbled, breath hitching in a vain attempt to keep tears from falling. “I’m just happy you’re— you’re safe.”
In your arms, the leather of his jacket shifted. A warm weight pressed to the small of your back.
“Aw,” he cooed, breath fanning across your cheek as he shifted you into a more comfortable position, “it’s alright. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
Something about the combination of his words and actions, the familiar smell of gunsmoke and malt clinging to him like home, made it all bubble over. Before you knew it, you were tilting out and up, cupping your hands against Boothill’s cheeks, bringing him home. In the last painted rays of the sun, your lips met in a stroke of vibrant color.
It felt like everything you had wanted over the past half-week — brightness, relief, the surety of something alive and warm against you. An immeasurable weight left with the tear-tracks down your face, each fear dissipating with a new round of wetness. His lips slotted against yours with the ease of practice. Drifted with purpose to wash away your worry. By the time you tasted tang, you thought it must have been you. It wasn’t uncommon for a part of your lips or tongue to get caught in Boothill’s sharp canines, rupturing the skin ever so slightly to form a pinprick of blood. However, it became clear this wasn’t the case when you surfaced for air. 
As your eyes adjusted to the growing darkness, you began to make out faint, dark splatters against your partner’s face.
Fear returned to you in a rush. You hadn’t even checked for flesh injuries when you first saw him, too caught up in the relief of seeing him again. 
“Boothill—” you said, fingers tracking carefully along the edge of his mouth where you could see a blossom of dark blood emerging, “—Boothill!”
The man in question hummed in confusion. Slightly frantically, you traced the pads of your fingers along the edges of the splatter. It was fresh. Oh, Aeons, it was fresh, and you hadn’t even thought—
“Woah, hey.” The low timbre of Boothill’s voice brought you out of your spiral. The hands on your back rubbed soothing circles, the kind he used when trying to calm a horse. “It’s nothin’, darlin’.”
“‘Nothing?’” you asked incredulously.
“It’s not mine, if that’s what you’re askin’.” He shot you an infuriating smile. “A few folks from the corporation got on my nerves, that’s all.” Then, when your skepticism remained: “Promise.”
You bit your lip, trying to tamp down the fluttering revival of fear in your chest. You couldn’t deny it, though — even in the night, the drying splatters clearly arced in a passing motion rather than a bleeding one. For what felt like forever, you focused your eyes on the spot near his mouth, burning it into your mind until it dispelled any doubt. 
Eventually, you slumped, more out of fatigue than anything else. “Okay.”
“Alright?”
“Okay,” you repeated, “but we’re going inside first. And I’m still checking you over.”
Boothill chuckled. “‘Course. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Then, he smiled, and you found yourself silently glad for the darkness, for the ability to see the radiance of the man before you in place of a sun. 
It was beautiful.
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© written by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.
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bitchinbarzal · 8 months ago
Text
Blue, White & Orange | M Barzal
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part two of thirteen
You’d called and text multiple times but mat hadn’t even acknowledged your existence since you got out of his car.
You watched the games, wearing the right jersey this time.
Your heart still clenched everytime he was interviewed by her, the jealousy in your stomach wouldn’t go away.
You were hurting without him but hurting more knowing how you’d made him feel. You didn’t want to lose Mat but you couldn’t see him coming back.
Mat on the other hand was so focused on the game. They were leading to playoffs and he couldn’t let this get to him no matter how hurt he was.
He’d seen your calls and texts but he knew it was best to steer clear or he’d say something he regretted, losing you was a guarantee then.
He was hurt, but he loved you.
They clinched. He knew you watched when he saw the orange heart text pop up on his phone.
They were to face the Rangers in round one and Mat wasn’t happy about it. He couldn’t see that jersey without wanting to be sick, his emotions from that night bubbling to the top again.
When playoffs roled around Sydney wasn’t sure where you stood with Mat and was warned not to ask him so she called you.
“Playoff jacket?”
“Syd…” you sighed
“C’mon! You’re still together right?”
“I don’t- I don’t know”
“Nobody else should be wearing his name on their back it’s yours!”
You couldn’t argue with her, she was persistent so you accepted. Still unsure you’d actually be there for the game.
She showed you the finished jacket over FaceTime, his name and number sparkled on the back.
“You’re gonna look amazing! I’ll take it to the rink and you can get it there”
Game one rolled around and you didn’t go, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
Mat still wasn’t talking to you and you were breaking your own heart thinking about it.
Mat had contempt texting you, asking if you’d be there but he couldn’t do it. He did ask Sydney to get you tickets, to make sure there was space in the family box for you.
You didn’t show up. Not game one, two, three or four where they swept the rangers. You weren’t there.
He looked for you in the stands everytime but he couldn’t see you.
The jacket Syd had made lay over the back of a chair downstairs haunting him everytime he passed it.
When they won everyone decided to go to the bar, they had to celebrate. Mat just wanted to see you. He was tired of not having you here, he needed you.
So he grabbed the jacket and headed for his car only to be accosted by his teammates to join them at the bar. He agreed, one drink.
One drink and then he was going to be knocking your door and winning you back.
You watched the game, sitting in your islanders #13 jersey. You were so proud of him.
Syd text you a picture of him at the bar holding your jacket
‘Come get your man girl… the tension is killing me 😩
So you did, you were going to go get him. Tell him you were sorry and that you made a mistake.
You were still in your jersey walking into the bar, practicing what you were going to say to him under your breath.
Your eyes darted around the bar looking for him, feeling a little insecure in your appearance and attire in that moment.
When the crowd separated you saw him, a smile instantly slapped onto your face only to drop when you saw her standing wearing your jacket.
You watched Mat laughing at something Anders said before he saw you, followed your eyes to her jacket and immediately dropped his beer to the table “No, no, it’s not-“
You stood defeated in the middle of the bar, the sleeves too long on your jersey scrunched in your hands and tears lined your eyes.
“Nothing to worry about, huh?”
Mat was infront of you now “It’s not hers-“
“No Mat, it’s mine and you gave her it! She’s literally wearing you- know what? I can’t do this” you stated, pulling off the jersey you had on and throwing it to the floor before walking out.
He followed you, begging you to listen “Baby please-“
“Don’t!” You screamed in the street “Don’t call me that- you got what you wanted Mathew, you got your revenge well done” and walked off leaving him speechless.
When he walked back into the bar all he could see was his name on the jersey laying on the floor being trampled over, feeling a lot like his heart.
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tencrushesperday · 8 months ago
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Will you go to prom with me?
matt rempe x college!student reader, friends to lovers
warnings : the fluffiest fluff to have ever fluffed for 7.5k words
an : in honor of the rangers playing their game 1 of the 2nd round, i’ve been writing this for the past week and omggggg there must be so many mistakes in it but im so happy with it it’s so cute. idk about the rangers wives and stuff so christine is obviously made up sorryyyy
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How did you get so lucky ?
Matthew gave you a ticket for tonight’s game and made you promise to stay after the game to wait for him.
You have gone to see his debut at the stadium series and this was his second game so you would have gone to see him play even if he hadn’t gotten you a ticket.
The two of you met when he was first invited to the Rangers summer camp. You were having a picnic with friends in Central Park on a hot summer evening. Matt was playing football with his friends not far from you and when the ball fell near you he ran up to get it.
The first time he just excused himself then went back to his game. But the second time his friend threw the ball your way intentionally you asked him if they wanted to eat something but you weren’t going to finish all the food you brought by yourselves.
It took all your courage to ask the tall cute guy that question. Especially because he was cute. Your friends had teased you for blushing the first time he came to get his ball and to defend your dignity you had to show them he didn’t affect you that much and you could be chill around tall attractive guys.
That improvised picnic turned into an ice cream date the next afternoon as you bonded over the fact that you were both foreigners in the US. Then that turned into another museum date, and a shopping date when he asked you for help to find his sister a present.
Superficial conversation turned into long conversations deep into the night so naturally.
Yet he had never tried to kiss you. You wanted to think those dates were really dates and that he felt the same way you did. But he never expressed any further interest into you so you settled for his friendship. You knew he would leave after the training camp to go back to Calgary and you would leave too to go back home.
When he came back for the second time for the training camp, you had already left New York. He had texted you that he was in town again and asked if you wanted to go get ice cream with him. You wanted to smash your head against a wall for leaving a week too early and missing him. But he promised that he would try to go to New York before the start of the season so you could catch up together.
After that first catch up in New York, you also went to Hartford for a weekend a few times when you didn’t have too many assignments.
You surprised him once by coming to a practice and staying for his game. Some of your friends teased you that you were head over heels for him and you “really wanted to get that d” in the words of your best friend but you never made any attempt at flirting and neither did he.
However now, he played in New York, for the Rangers and you couldn’t be any prouder of him. He had texted you that he was called up to play for them for the stadium series and you told him that you already got tickets with friends to go see the match. You missed your morning class to get breakfast with him before the game and congratulate him.
So you are now waiting awkwardly by the VIP entrance because he didn’t get you a special pass since he didn’t dare ask for it and you have no idea where the locker room is in this place. You check your phone from time to time to see if Matt has texted you but you just assume that he’s still busy.
At some point, a security guard approaches you and asks what you’re waiting for. You’re about to answer him and you hear a voice answering in your stead.
“For me. She’s waiting for me. But thanks for taking care of her.” He’s always been kinda hot, but that sentence? The messy post game hair? The sweaty look and slightly tired eyes?
You thank the security guard and walk towards Matt with a big smile on your face. “Congrats on your second game and second win champ. Looks like you’re this team’s lucky charm.” You give him a hug when you reach him and he keeps his arm around your shoulder not letting you go.
“Hmm no I think it’s you. You’ve been for every win too.” He winks at you.
“When did you get this cheesy?”, you tease.
“Winning makes me emotional.”
You aww at his honest response and jokingly tickle him. But you love how he’s not afraid to show his emotions in front of you and you cherish that.
“So.. we won… Do you know what that means?”, he asks with an amused look in his eyes.
“Free and good food?”, you inquire hopefully, batting your lashes at him to go overboard with it.
“Better. Free drinks !! I wanted you to come celebrate with us. I got out the looker room as soon as I could to not make you wait and have some time to convince you. The guys are ready to go.”
“It’s a wednesday night.”
“Perfect night to go out the bars are less crowded.”
“Matt I have classes tomorrow.”
He has a resolute look on his face and you know you’ve lost the argument here. “I’ll bring you back to your dorm by midnight.”
You admit defeat by nodding your head yes and he pumps his fist in an overly exaggerated way. Then he puts his arm back around your shoulder and drags you towards the exit.
“Schneider knows a nice place not far from here apparently.”, he informs you.
“You’re new best bud?”
“I would never dream of replacing you”, he says with a funny smirk.
When you walk out of the building you’re met with huge, impressive hockey players and their beautiful significant others. You smile politely and wave your hand when Matt introduces you but nobody pays you too much attention as everybody is eager to get to drinking.
The bar you get to is nice, not too big but still pretty loud and the players overjoyed from their win only make it louder.
You sit squeezed in between Matt and one of the girlfriends. She doesn’t particularly pay you attention except when she asked you who you are and how you met Matt.
When Matt leaves to get you a drink at the bar, Chytil’s girlfriend approaches you and introduces herself.
“So have you and Matt been together for a long time ?” Luckily, the lighting is bad and she can’t see you blush at her question.
“We’re just really good friends”, you answer her after a beat.
“Oh sorry, my bad.. It’s just that usually guys don’t bring such beautiful friends to bars when they try to find other girls to hook up with”, she explains jokingly and you try not to get such thoughts into your head.
“First of all it’s so nice of you to call me pretty. And no honestly i’m really supportive of him trying to hook up with girls if he wants to. He just promised to get me back to my dorm before midnight so he’ll probably have to do that afterwards.” She laughs at your words a bit too much and you laugh awkwardly as well, confused look on your face. Until she looks behind you and you understand.
“Always knew I could count on you to be my wingwoman” You turn around at Matt’s voice, the awkward smile still on your face. “And here’s your cosmopolitan.”
“I'm not even sure you need a wingwoman now that you’re in the NHL.”
“That’s not something we are going to test tonight because i’m here to celebrate with you and not some random girl.” He grins at you.
You spend the rest of the evening dancing and drinking your cocktails with Matt acting as the best body guard to ever exist on the dance floor. It’s not often that you don’t have any weirdo trying to approach you but having a 6’7 guy built like a refrigerator definitely helps so you can enjoy the music and just dance. Maybe you should go to the club with him more often.
You don’t leave before midnight as promised. It’s closer to 1am when you bid goodbye to Chytil’s girlfriend. She asks you if she will see you around more and you promise her to attend the next game.
When you’re outside the uber is already waiting for you and you get in with Matt still talking and laughing.
He then walks you up to your door and you turn around before opening. “So now you know where I leave”
“Yes this was my plan all along now I know where to come to steal the most comfortable blankets”, he says with a smirk
“I knew you were evil. You can’t be tall, hot and ambitious without something hiding under the surface.” Did you just call him hot ? You can blame it on the alcohol even if it was only 3 cocktails.
“Obviously. Now go get some good sleep and drink a glass of water.” He turns around to leave “Good night”
You yell after him “Drink some water too big boy” you giggle to yourself and cover your mouth aware of how loud you just were.
The next morning you have a mild migraine but it hits you when you are brushing your teeth a song from last night playing on your phone.
The reason no guy approached you last night was because Matt always had his hand on you, your hand, your hip, your waist. It was just so natural to have him that close you didn’t even notice in the moment.
——
Almost a week later, as you sit on your bed, music playing on your speaker because your roommate is out, you hear a loud repeated bang on your door.
You jump out of bed, turn off the music and run to the door. “Who’s there?”, you ask warily.
“Open up the door you deaf dumbass”
“Great to see you too my sugar plum”, you stick your tongue out to Matt when opening the door.
He walks right past you into your dorm room and sets a bag on your desk. “I brought us snacks and video games.”
“You know I don’t have anything to play video games on right?”, you look at him eyebrows raised, hands on your hips.
“That's why I brought my Xbox in my backpack?” He starts unpacking his stuff and setting up his gaming corner. Luckily you had a small TV you and your roommate chipped in together to buy.
“Make yourself at home I guess… I also hope you’re aware I won’t be playing with you I have to finish this essay for tomorrow morning.”
“I know. You said that you had to finish it tonight. I just thought it would be more fun to have company. And I haven’t seen you because of the roadie.” You smile at his logic. It’s non arguable. You would rather do anything and everything with him around than without him. And you missed him too.
Once he’s done setting it up, he sits at the end of your bed and looks at you expectantly. “I won’t be noisy I promise. Now can you bring the snacks?”
You smile like an idiot again, hand him the snacks and get back to your previous position in your bed.
He takes your feet on his lap and starts his game. Without even looking your way, he pushes the bag of your favorite candies towards you.
You sight contemptuously, a small smile adorning your face. This was so comfortable. A little too cozy for you to just see him as a friend.
Around 1am, you finish your assignment and Matt is already asleep at the feet of your bed. You lightly tap his shoulder and tell him to get under the covers because it’s too late for him to go home.
Still sleepy, he takes off his hoodie and gets comfortable while you go to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Then you get back to bed and try falling asleep but you are far too aware of his tall presence right next to you.
He is fast asleep when he sneaks one of his arms around you. Your bed isn’t large enough for you not to touch anyway so you decide to enjoy his warm, comforting cuddles and fall asleep much faster now that you’re not stressing over it.
When you wake up for your class in the morning, Matthew has already left for practice.
——
The game against the Devils has been brutal. You couldn’t attend but you were watching on your phone while at the library. You try to get done as much as you can before leaving the library and going to your closest 24/7 store.
You are ready to go around the whole city. You have a mission in mind and you will accomplish it : finding a Lego set (and food of course).
Luckily you only have to try two convenience stores before finding a good enough set. You also grab some snacks and head to Matt’s apartment.
You are already waiting in the lobby of his apartment building when he comes in.
He looks nasty and you can’t help but cringe.
He drops his bag on the floor when he’s near and wraps his arms around you. For a while, you just remain like that, hugging, passing your fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him.
“You wanna go up? I got us lego sets to build”, you ask in a small voice. He nods and pulls away without meeting your gaze.
You haven’t seen him since his huge fight in Toronto so the black eye is shocking at first. And now he’s been suspended for four games. You know that even if he likes causing chaos, he likes the game more.
You silently follow him up to his apartment. It’s a small studio, nothing crazy but it’s cozy and it’s clean.
You set your bags near the couch and go to the kitchen to look for something to cook dinner with. In the meantime, Matt gets another cold shower and changes into a pair of sweats.
When he comes out of his room, wet hair falling across his eyes, his t-shirt half up, your breath catches in your throat. Your gaze moves downwards and then you catch a glimpse of the bruises on his side as he finishes putting his shirt on.
“I left clothes for you on my bed if you wanna change into something more comfortable. I looked for the smallest sweatpants but hoodie might be just enough.”
He walks up to you and smells around, “What you’re cooking there?”
“Mac and cheese. Didn’t have too much choice” A pleasant smile appears on his face. “I can finish it, go get comfortable.”
He nudges you lightly so you let him take over and go to take a shower and change.
You had stayed at his place in Hartford the last two times you went up there. But this was different. You had always brought your own clothes and you would eat out with his friends before coming and crashing on his couch before leaving the next morning.
Now you are changing into his clothes, and as he said the hoodie almost reaches your knee so you don’t bother with trying on the pants. It smells of him and you try not to be weird about it but it brings you such a sense of comfort you can’t help but wrap your arms around yourself.
When you walk back into the open kitchen Matt is done with the Mac n cheese and getting the table ready.
“You can sit down. I’ll be ready in a minute.”
You listen to him and sit down and a few moments later so does he. You eat in silence until he asks you about your day.
You don’t want to press him about anything or upset him so you just go with his flow, letting him welcome you in when he’s ready.
When you’re done eating, it’s your turn to tell him to go get comfortable on the couch while you clean up the kitchen. Once you’re done you join him on the couch where he already started taking the legos out of their boxes.
You talk about your childhoods and how you used to play with legos and other toys, about your favorites and the ones you lost but just remembered how much you liked them.
When you finished the set, he put it on the shelf next to his TV and you both went to bed.
You insisted on sleeping on the couch to not bother him but he argued that he would.
Of course you wouldn’t let him, knowing the physical state he was in. So you agreed to both sleep in the bed.
Once you’re under the covers and the lights are off you can’t stop the words from falling out of your mouth as you turn towards him, “Does it hurt a lot?”
He turns around to face you too, “Where?”
It breaks your heart to hear him say this. Are there really so many hurtful part?
You slowly bring your hand to his abdomen under the covers. “Here?”
“I didn’t think you would see it”, he shuddered at your touch so you pull your hand back.
“I’m sorry”
“It’s okay.” your voices are no louder than a whisper.
“Can I hug you?”, there’s timidity in your voice that he has never heard before.
“Please”
You wrap your arms around him and press his head under your chin. You fall asleep in that position only a few minutes later.
——
Now, you are waiting for him by the north entrance after his game against Florida as he had asked you but you have no idea what to expect nor where he is taking you. It didn’t really matter anyway as you get to spend time with him.
He walks out the building wearing his suit, his bag slung over his shoulder.
“Congrats ! You played until the end” You laugh at him throwing your arms around his torso. God how you loved his hugs. It feels like being engulfed in the warmest cloud.
“And I got an assist”, he says pulling back from the hug and grinning at you.
Your smile widens as well as you crank your neck to look up at him “You did great champ!”
You pull away from his arms feeling yourself getting hungrier by the second. “Come one now take me to eat. You know cheering on you is such a physical activity.”
You catch sight of his crooked tie once you are completely out of his arms and reach to straighten it. “I changed as fast as I could so you wouldn’t have to wait long.” He explains looking down at you.
You can’t look up to meet his gaze, too busy trying to hide your blush.
When you’re done, you ask him to lead the way and he points to the left and tells you to follow him because “he knows a place”.
You walk for a few blocks until you’re in Times Square and then he stops.
“Matt don’t tell me you wanna play tourist right now. I swear I’m not kidding when I say I’m famished.” You look up at him with a pout.
He checks his watch, “Can you keep the whining down, I’m the one who’s paying for dinner, please?” He looks around at the billboard like he’s never seen them before.
“I’m hungry, come on let’s go I’ll pay for my meal if it’s what it takes.” You try to argue.
He stops turning around and you get in front of him to try and get his attention back on you. He checks his watch again. What is he waiting for?
“Matt the hell are you looking around for ? This is not your first time in Time Square. I hope the place you wanted to take me doesn’t close too soon…”
He looks behind you and his eyes light up. “This is where I wanted to take you.” He says grinning like a devil.
You want to ask what’s going on, mouth half open but he tells you to turn around so you do.
Mouth still hanging agape, the first thing your eyes lay on is a huge billboard with your name on it. And the question “Will you go to prom with me?”. You heart skips a beat there.
You’re speechless for a second and very confused when you turn back around to look at Matt. “What is this? What prom, Matt? Colleges don’t do proms and I’m in my senior year. What do you…”
He cuts you off seeing the frown on your face “You told me once that you never got to go to prom during high school. And I know how much you love those fancy dresses and dancing to 2000 music. I didn’t want you to feel sad again because you feel like you missed out on something.”
Oh you are so about to cry.
Tears are brimming your lashes already. Your stomach is doing somersaults.
“So will you go to prom with me? The one I organized just for us so you can’t really say no…” You hear the small quiver in his voice and how he slows down at the end. He is feeling unsure. It’s the sweetest thing ever.
The tears staining your face are happy ones so you nod your head vigorously, unable to speak because of the knot in your throat. A smile cracks its way onto your face and at the sight of it he leans down to hug you. You jump into his arms and wraps yours around his neck.
“I can’t believe you did this for me” You’re now sobbing into his shoulder, pushing your face into the crook of his neck to hide your tear stained, all red, face, from the crowd around you.
It feels like it’s just the two of you in the world. You don’t hear the crowd over your own beating heart anymore.
How did you get so lucky?
You want to tell him how much this means to you, how much he means to you. Yet it’s not the time to confess your feelings. You can’t ruin this moment with your selfish emotions when he’s done this for you as a friend. So you settle for thank yous.
“You’re the best, really.” You squeeze harder before trying to pull away but he still has you in his arms and your feet don’t even touch the ground.
Your faces are inches away, and you feel an itch you can’t quite scratch, because he’s not your boyfriend and kissing him could ruin all this.
“Thank you. Genuinely. I don’t know what I did to deserve you but you’re really the best Matt” You think he can probably feel your breath on his face. You hope he can’t hear your pulse this close. You hope you don’t smell of the beer you drank earlier at the game.
Oh no, you realise as he puts you down, your breath probably smells of the beer.
He shots the toothiest smile you’ve ever seen on him. “Good let’s go get you some food now.”
May the universe help your poor little heart, as you melt internally at his smile, words and actions.
——
You knew Matthew was a man of his word and if he said he would do it he will. But what you didn’t expect was for him to go so overboard with it.
A few days after his promposal, he texts you that after class you’re both going shopping the next day. He had called you after the game when they clinched the first spot and said that your fake prom would be before the playoffs.
He waits for you in front of your building, baseball cap sitting backwards on his head, two coffees in his hand.
Your heart skips a beat when you first catch sight of him, easy to notice him with such a height. You think you would recognise him even in the dark anyway, when everything in your body pulls you to him in the way it has done since you’ve met him.
He’s right here and so close and yet so out of reach because you can’t run up to him and kiss him like you would like to.
It has gotten harder to ignore your feelings since he started acting like the best boyfriend in the world while simultaneously not being your boyfriend.
You walk slowly to give yourself time to recompose yourself. He smiles broadly when he sees you too.
He doesn’t know how much he affects so you can’t blame him. He’s just being friendly, like he always was.
When you reach him, he hands you your cup of coffee then pulls you into his chest and your giggle gets muffled by his warm sweater.
He asks you about your day, your classes, why you’ve been up since he went away. He listens to your every word even though you’ve already told him all of this through texts.
You walk the streets of New York together until he stops in front of a dress shop.
“No, no, no Matt, I cant afford this.” You stop him before he walks inside, hand on his arm. “And ai’m not letting you pay for my dress. Just putting this out there hopefully before the thought even crosses your mind”
He takes your hand off his arms and wraps it with his. “Let’s just see what they have.”
He tugs you inside and you don’t have any other choice but to follow.
The shopping assistant greets you and after giving you a few minutes to look around she starts asking question about what you want, the type of event, the color preferences, the length.
Sure you had imagined the type of dress you would have worn if you ever got invited to prom when you were a teenager. But you were never invited by anyone and as you were starting to think about going alone your mom got very sick and you had to stay home while your dad went to work.
But asked this way on the spot you have no idea. You say blue for the colour. It’s you favourite one and Matt has a nice blue suit that could match.
The sales assistant picked out some dresses for you while you and Matt looked around. He made you promise to not look at the price until you’ve tried on all the dresses that you liked but you knew you wouldn’t be getting anything from here.
After going around the whole store, the sales assistant directed you to the back to try on the dresses. Struggling to tie up the dress, you peak your head outside the door to ask her for help but only see Matthew.
“She went to get you heels. Do you need help?” You nod, open the door wider as he gets closer and slowly turn around making sure the dress stays in place.
He gets on it with expert hands pulling the laces tight. “Tighter?” His voice is low, near your ear. It sends shivers down your spine.
You nod not trusting your voice just yet. You feel hot all over but you also shiver.
“Sorry my fingers are cold…”
He is almost done now so you want to break the awkward silence.
“You’re good at it.” Great remark, way to go.
“Yeah I helped my sister a few times.”
Did he just compare you to his sister? Amazing.
With perfect timing your sales assistant comes back with a pair of beautiful black heels. “Sorry for making you wait. Your boyfriend told me you shoe size but I had to find something that would match.”
So much for helping with the awkwardness…
“He um… we’re not um…” You tried articulating your thoughts pointing between you and Matt.
Instead of helping you, he looks at you with an amused look on his face then thanks the woman while taking the shoes from her.
“You can hold onto my shoulder.” He says kneeling down and setting the shoes on the ground in front of you. You lift your dress with one hand, grab his shoulder with the other one as he so kindly suggested, and then extend your foot to put the shoe on. He even helps you get the shoe on.
You were trying not to overthink his every move but it was impossible. Why is he acting this way all of a sudden ? Why didn’t he tell the sales assistant that you were just friends ? Why ..?
Your thoughts are cut off when Matthew stands up and you lose your balance and almost fall.
He extends an arm to catch but you stop him with your hand and a chuckle.
He steps back and he and the sales assistant both look at you. You start feeling flustered so you turn around to look for a mirror.
As you walk over to it, you can feel Matt’s gaze on your black, and the ghosts of his fingertips on your skin.
The dress looks beautiful but something is not right. It’s a bit too over the top and you just don’t feel it. Matthew sees it in your eyes when you look at him through the mirror.
You change into the second dress but you don’t like how it looks around your chest so you don’t even get out of the dressing room.
The third one was beautiful. The flowy fabric, the sea green color of the dress, the thin straps and square neckline accentuating all the right places. You look down at yourself one last time and take a peak at the price tag before walking out of the dressing room to show it to Matt. It breaks your heart to act like it’s not the most beautiful dress you have ever worn. But you can’t afford it.
You don’t think you’ve ever seen Matthew looking at you this way. His mouth is slightly agape which gives you an insane boost of confidence.
“Yeah I’m not gonna take this one. You wouldn’t be able to handle it.” You tease him which makes him slightly blush. Oh this is getting funny.
“Should I do a spin ? Let me do a spin”
Maybe you could not eat for the next month or two ? Because if it triggers this type of reaction from Matt you would wear it everyday.
When you look at him again, he stares at you and gulps.
“You look.. you look like a washed up algue on the Jersey shore” He deadpans. A smirk threatens to crack his serious appearance.
You explode in laughter, “You sure know how to talk to a woman. But that settles it I’m not buying it.” You turn around to go back into the dressing room without seeing his disappointed look or leaving him the time to argue with you.
You try on the rest of the dresses but none of them are what you are looking for so you bid goodbye to the sales assistants and exit the store.
“This was very cute of you Matt but I promise I’ll find the perfect dress in a thrift shop without having to starve for the next month.” You assured him.
“Yeah sure sorry…” How dare he be this cute??
“I know that we went to this type of store with my sister for her proms and she loved it.” He argues
You smile at him, “So you wanted my experience to be as authentic as it gets.”
“Exactly” he gives you that cheeky childish grin. He’s proud of himself and he can be.
You shake your head at him and urge him in the direction of your favorite coffee shop.
“It’s too late for coffee I think”, he remarks which makes you look at the time on your phone.
“Wow I didn’t think we wasted that much time in the store” you were surprised, but then again time moves so fast when you were having fun with Matt.
“Hey come on it wasn’t a waste of time you got to try on beautiful dresses” he argued again, heading back in the direction of your dorm.
“You’re right but not walking faster to get to Phil’s surely is a waste of time” You saying grinning.
“When it comes to getting food it always sounds like you’re the 6’7 hockey players who needs to eat a lot of calories” He’s already caught up to you so you can punch his arm at the teasing.
“Yeah well where would I get the energy to annoy you if I didn’t eat this much?”, you give him the same sassy energy back.
The banter and the laughter doesn’t stop and suddenly he’s already walking you back to your dorm and hugging you goodbye.
Once you are in your pyjamas you get your laptop out and get to work on your assignment.
To your dismay, pretty boys don’t make uni work disappear…
——
You were looking at your eyeshadow palette, indecisive. Maybe you should just do a simple eyeliner ? You wanted to do your best, look your best, impress Matt after everything he’s done for you.
You were lucky to find a dress similar to the sea green one you had found in the store but just a tad lighter in colour. You put on your highest heels so the pictures with Matthew looked better. He promised to make it look as authentic as possible so he got one of the older guys on the team to let him borrow the apartment. Pictures by the fireplace are a must according to him.
So you gathered all the belongings you needed after your only class this morning and came to the address he had sent you. You called the number he had sent along when you were in front of the building and a nice woman who introduced herself as Christine told you what apartment to go to.
You were sort of starstruck when she first opened the door and wondered how these hockey players really bagged all these 10s. She wasn’t amongst the girls and women you had met both times you have gone with Matt to the bar to celebrate after a game and you understood why when you heard two kids arguing in the background.
She had quickly let you in and apologized for the noise they were making while taking you to the room where you could get ready. You had thanked her a million times over for welcoming you this way but she told you that they couldn’t say no when Matthew had explained his plan so sweetly. She had commented about how lucky you were to have him with a wink and you nodded, cheeks flustered.
Now you are almost done. You had begun with your hair, finally decided to just do a soft look on your eyes with some glitter and put on your dress.
You are putting on your pink gloss, looking at yourself in the mirror. You promise yourself that this is the night you will tell Matt how you feel, when you hear a knock on the door.
“Honey, are you ready? Matthew is here.” Christine calls out to you.
“I will be out in a minute.”, you answer as you put on your perfume finally.
You take a deep breath before opening the door and shake your arms in a manner to get the anxiety out of your body. You walk to the living room slowly to not scrap the parquet with your heels, looking down at your feet, dress in hand.
When you get there, you raise your head to find Matt already looking at you. He looks stunning in his suits, you already knew that. But there something that made him look particularly handsome. Probably knowing that he dressed up for you.
A smile creeps its way in your face as he stares at you in awe. You pat yourself on the back internally for doing a good job on the hair and makeup.
“You look um… you look beautiful.”, he finally manages to get out.
You giggle and thank him. He really makes you feel like a high schooler, you think.
“You don’t look bad yourself.” You smile.
“You see me in a suit every other day”, he’s being modest.
“But you have something particular about yourself today”
Oh god, you’re gonna be the death of him. Complementing him so effortlessly. He made more of an effort today it’s true. He wanted to look half as good as you at least. He also made a point of not fighting in his last games so he doesn’t have a bruised face on these pictures.
“Oh I got something for you.” He reaches out behind him on the fireplace and grabs a box. You walk closer, curious to see what it is and your eyes lay in a beautiful corsage for your wrist and a matching flower for his pocket.
You give him your hand and look at him while puts it on “It’s beautiful thank you.”
“Okay kids, let's take some cute pictures,” Christine says, clapping her hands, even though she already took ten pictures of you interacting.
“I see you’re fully playing your role” you laugh at her antics.
“Just rehearsing for the future”, she retorts with the same cocky smile you gave her. “Okay now get in front of the fireplace. Matt stands behind her.” She was giving instructions like a pro and you assumed she’s already done this for her own prom.
Just like she said, Matt walks up behind you and sneaks his arms around your waist. Instinctively, he spreads his fingers but his hands awkwardly cover your whole tummy so he holds your hips.
You try to relax for the picture but you’re overly aware of every inch of his body touching yours.
“Come on guys, give me your best smiles now!” Christine encourages you.
You try to focus on the pictures, the camera, your hair, your smile. You rearrange your dress to be sure it is okay.
Once she says she has a few good ones, you change your pose and you get used to it. You look at a few before takes and they do look beautiful.
Once you’re done, Matt thanks Christine and you both head out to the restaurant he had made a reservation for.
The taxi ride is not too long since you were already in a nice part of the city. The restaurant looks way too over priced and you feel bad for how much money he’s spending on you.
Once you’re sitting at your table, you can help but tease him, “I’m amazed you even managed to make such a reservation.”
“Schneider helped”, he admits.
“So this evening really is a team effort. If I wasn’t enjoy it so much, I would probably feel bad for bothering everybody”, you say half jokingly.
The whole dinner is amazing and delicious. You don’t think you’ve ever eaten in a place this fancy and frankly both of you probably look out of place.
More than once you laugh a little too loud and swear a little too often which earns you some pointed glances from the old rich people around you. That only makes you laugh even more.
By the time you’re out of them, you feel the slight buzz of the overpriced wine and can’t wait to see what Matt has planned next.
The next taxi ride takes you back to his apartment and you’re sad you didn’t get to dance. You think you might still convince Matt to put on some music to dance in the kitchen too.
You think of your arguments all the way up and when he makes you wait in the hallway. But you don’t need any once he opens the door and lets you see what he prepared inside.
There was glitter everywhere, colorful light effects and you couldn’t even catch a glimpse of a photo zone next to the bathroom door.
“I know we don’t have a prom party with all the people dancing around us and our friends but I hoped this would make do.”, he says looking at you from behind, studying your every emotion.
You turn to him, your brightest smile on your face “This is perfect Matt.” You grab his hand and drag him inside.
“Let’s take a picture first. We can set the timer and flash on my phone.” You set your phone in the place he prepared for it and push on the timer. You take your dutiful place in front of him in front of the photo zone and there’s no awkwardness as earlier.
Then you go back to the leaving room to put some music on, he goes to the kitchen and comes out with punch.
“Don’t we face the chaperones too? For the more authentic experience…”
“You plan on doing such naughty things you need a chaperone?” Oh, you weren’t expecting him to clap back this way.
“I don’t have enough alcohol in the system, bring that punch over here”, cowardly move but you didn’t lie. You need more liquid courage to tell him everything you think.
You take the drink from his hand when he extends it to you and down half of it.
You cradle the rest of your hand while Give me everything tonight plays in the background but it doesn’t take long for you to finish that too.
You dance to your favorite songs until a slow by Def Leppard comes on. “Wouldn’t be a full prom experience if we didn’t slow dance”, Matt defends his choice of putting it in the playlist.
“You’re right. Let’s dance”c you nod getting closer to him. Your fingers are intertwined behind his neck and his hands settle in your lower back.
With each sway to the rhythm, your bodies get closer.
You look amazing. He used beautiful earlier but that hadn’t been enough to describe how truly gorgeous you look. He wants to use every word he knows, compare you to stars and flowers and yet it still feels like it wouldn’t be enough. You are giving him your brightest smile and he feels proud at the thought that he is the one who put it on your face. He made you happy. He wants to make you happy everyday in the future.
You are so close to him. Right in front of him. He thinks he should gather his courage and tell you he likes you. He can feel the warmth radiating from your skin through your thin dress, your fingers running through his hair at the nape of his neck.
He thinks about all the times you’ve made him happy. The first time you ever talked to him and offered snacks to him and his friends who were just strangers in the park. The time when you first surprised him by coming to Hartford to see him play. He wasn’t seeing you in that light at the time. However recently, when you came to comfort him after he had been suspended for four games. He had wanted to kiss you then right in his lobby when he saw you. But he couldn’t use you like that to drown his sorrows. And what were the chances that you wouldn’t push him away and leave him all alone?
He always thought you were hot, even Schneider and Lafrenière commented on it when he had brought you to the bar with them to celebrate. He had told them to back off right then and there, to not even think about it. He thought it was due to friendly protectiveness. He later realised that he hated the thought of anyone else putting their hands on you and make you happy in that way.
“Why didn’t you ever kiss me?”, you interrupt his train of thought. He is completely caught out. Did he hear you right? He takes another few seconds to process but he can see the concern taking over your features.
“I could do that? I didn’t know I could?” he looks dumbfounded which makes you laugh. “Can I kiss you now?”
“Do you want to?”
“Stupid question. Can I kiss you?”, his breath is ragged.
“Stupid question.” you giggle, “Lose some more time asking others like this o-“.
He doesn’t let you finish before crashing his lips on yours and stealing your breath away. It’s passionate but sweet and oh so soft at the same time.
It’s so much better than you couldn’t have ever imagined. Sparks fly. Butterflies erupt in your stomach. Shivers run down your spine. You have wanted this for so long, was tempted to do it a million times and it is finally happening.
You need more. You wish he would never stop kissing you.
When he pulls away for air, slightly panting and lips and the skin around them sparkly from your gloss, you can’t help the chuckle.
“It tastes like cherry”, he says through a small laugh of his own.
“Oh yeah? wanna taste it some more?”
435 notes · View notes
e-hibiscus · 10 months ago
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Pairing: GP!Acheron x reader
Warnings: NSFW, sub! Afab reader, GP!Acheron, slight angst, reunion se.x(?), not proofread, pre-release Acheron
Minors DNI! | NSFW! under the cut
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Acheron has always been elusive from the day you’ve met this strange woman. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the fact you had known her for so long (and slept with each other before), she probably wouldn’t ever come back. But the galaxy ranger always finds her way back to you like a moth drawn to a flame. 
Days and months pass, and you’ve long since grown accustomed to her absence and surprise visits. It’s been a while, but you don’t forget her. Her touch, her smell, and the way she makes you feel, emotionally and physically. Simply thinking about her fills you with a sense of longing, as if a part of you is missing without her presence by your side. It’s a hole in your heart that is only filled by her, and her alone, so you cling to hope that you’ll see her again soon.
Penacony’s dreams were said to make anything into reality, yet it was the last place you thought you would ever meet her. Of all things, she’s here but what for? You could hardly grasp a tangible reason for this encounter nor would you have ever accounted that the reason she would give was, in part, to see you.
**
“You’re back.” A voice spoke as you’re finally returning to reality once more. You know that voice anywhere, that much was unmistakable. When you turned your head, it wasn’t much of a shock seeing Acheron standing a couple of feet away from the pool.
You’ve caught glimpses of her in the dream. Acheron knew someone had been watching her, and she was quick to realize it was you. There’s no harm in it, but you’re surprised the woman came because she seemed occupied with her agenda.
“How did you-“ Your question was quickly interjected by the Galaxy Ranger.
“There’s no need to go into that.” Her voice cut through the air, her lust evident in her one “It just matters that I’m here now, with you. I know you’ve missed me. Those too are my feelings in turn.”
The only sign of the woman’s eagerness was the way Acheron barely allowed you onto your feet. A strong grip takes you by the hip, guiding you to the sofa. Her arm guides you on your back onto the cushioned seat with a light thud.
Acheron was moving quickly, today she’s far more eager and less reserved than normal, but you would’ve welcomed her with open arms regardless. Her lips hastily met yours without warning. She presses you deeply into a kiss, her desire evident by the way her lips move against yours in reckless abandon. A fight of dominance that she easily won, only pulling away as a whimpered plea leaves your chest.
A string of saliva connects the two of you once she pulls away. Looking up at her face, her eyes burn with need, but she doesn’t proceed further. Until you give her your full permission, she stays hovering above you, waiting for your consent for her to continue.
“Can we…?” 
Her fingers drag down your side—prepared to loop around the hem of your skirt if you let her. You gave Acheron a nod, however, she shook her head disapprovingly. “I need you to say it. I want to get your full verbal consent, and I don’t care how many times you’ve said yes before. Tell me you want it, just as much as me.”
Acheron’s hardened gaze softens as you say yes. Piece by piece, one article of clothing is shed and discarded someplace in your room until you’re left in nothing but your undergarments. Her fingers work at your clit through the material of your panties. This time, you share slower and more intimate kiss.
You couldn’t shake the overwhelming sensation of her fingers beginning to prod your sensitive hole. Acheron’s embrace soothes your nerves as she coats her fingers with your arousal. Already your panties are damp with excitement, and she has already taken the liberty of sliding down your legs and discarding them somewhere in your room.
A low moan escapes your lips as waves of pleasure wreck your body. Gentle strokes gradually build up as her fingers send waves of ecstasy throughout your body. You watch as her fingers effortlessly stretch you out– arousal making it easy for her digits to glide in and out with little resistance. Two quickly turned to three as she prepared you for what would come next.
Her intense gaze never left your core. Acheron was practically salivating at the sight of your pussy clenching around her fingers. Oh, how she can’t wait until it’ll be her cock buried deep instead of her fingers. She has to be patient though and ease you into taking her length again.
Acheron bites her lips as she palms your clit, watching you buck your hips with pitiful whines escaping your lips. A loud moan leaves your lips and your grip on her back tightens. Acheron groans out when your nails dig into her skin. 
She swipes her thumb over your clit swiftly. Your eyes roll back as your body tenses– clenching around Acheron’s digits as she works through your orgasm, only stopping her ministrations when you push her away.
You don’t know when exactly Acheron removed her pants, but you can feel her cock rubbing between your thighs, coating it with the remnants of your cum. She slowly grinds against you, letting the tip catch your clit.
Her breath tickles your skin, her voice heavy with desire. “I’ll try to be slow.” Her words came as the fat tip of her cock parts your folds.
With how wet you were, it makes Acheron’s gradual penetration come quickly. Tossing your head back, you can't help but moan out as you struggle to take all of it. When she finally bottoms out, a guttural groan leaves Acheron’s chest– nails digging into your plush thighs because of how tight your walls cling to her so tightly.
Acheron starts moving once you’ve grown adjusted to her size. Her hips pull back until only the tip remains before bottoming out and grinding her hips against yours. Your quivering entrance accepts her in full, gripping her length as she sinks deeper.
“Fuck, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed having you here like this.”
The tip of her cock slams into your sweet spot. Your body trembled as Acheron pulled back before thrusting back in with a relentless pace. Seeing your expression and feeling you squeezing her tighter, Acheron doubles her efforts until your eyes roll back into your skull.  Your back arches up towards her while she pins your hips down.  
Acheron lips hungrily met yours, silencing your scream as you cum on her cock. With one final thrust, you feel the warmth of her cum flooding your womb. Every inch of your walls along to her length; causing waves of ecstasy to run down your spine. Your walls milk her release until she slowly slips her cock out giving you a moment to catch your breath.
You feel a gentle kiss on your brow before Acheron pushes aside the strands of hair sticking to your skinー a gentle and welcoming caress as you feel her cum slowly dibble from your quivering entrance.
Acheron’s voice was soft yet filled with desire. “Your body is just asking for more. You’ll give me one more, right?”
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vnards · 10 months ago
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>dinner's ready!
Price was grumpy. There was a tightness in his shoulders he couldn’t release and it had been driving him mad. He was at work, taking his 7th lap of the forest today, trying to run off his extra energy. But no matter how hard he tries, there’s been a smell in his nose. As he makes his way back to the ranger’s station, a grumble emits from him unknowingly.
Ever since his last visit to the store, there’s been this itch under his nails and a tension in his neck that just wouldn’t go away. Nothing he does gets his mind off you. Off your smell. “Dammit.” Price grumbles under his breath and leans back in his chair, wiping his eyes, as if he can make everything go away.
There’s footsteps outside the ranger station that catches his ear and a quick glance at the clock makes him sigh in relief. Marcus walks in, throwing a polite smile John’s way as he heads towards the back, getting ready for his own shift.
John couldn’t be more grateful to be able to get out of here. He quickly starts shutting down his things and begins packing. “Long day?” Marcus asks as he comes from the back of the station.
He grunted in response, “It was fine.” He quickly dismisses.
He hears a pause come from Marcus for a moment. Damned humans and their stupid social rules.
The former military captain tries again, remembering he only got the job because of Marcus’ good nature. He clears his throat again, “I think I may be coming down with something.” He says instead.
“Yea,” Marcus starts, “It usually takes a while to get used to the mountain air.” John falsely agrees, simply wanting to get out from under scrutiny and judgement. “Maybe you should take the weekend off.” He suggests.
That gives Price pause for a moment. He doesn’t want to misuse any good graces with Marcus, but with the coming winter, he would not look a gifted horse in the mouth. “I can still come in on Sunday,” He offered.
Marcus thought it over for a moment, “Yea, that sounds pretty good.”
Price smiled politely, a renewed vigor gave him enough momentum to grab his stuff and head out.
Price lumbered around the forest aimlessly. The sky was a light grey, but despite that, the trees gave an enchanting look and feel. He was in his bear form, finally able to stretch his legs and enjoy the mountains in which he resided in. He hasn’t had the chance ever since he’s moved to the area and the serenity he feels makes him feel truly at home.
No orders to give. No gunfire raining over him. No crushing weight on his shoulders. He can meander as slow as he wants. Scratch his back for as long as he wants. Even pick the berries without a care in the world.
There were a few hikers out in the late afternoon. Probably coming from work. Families with their dogs mostly. Everyone gave him a wide berth, some taking pictures, but most too scared to move until he’s ambled his way further. He’s not out to scare anybody so he leaves them alone.
Until that smell.
The bear sniffed the air again. Certain of the familiar scent. A pleased rumble began in his chest, heading a direction further into the woods and closer to the river.
Price didn’t even realize that he had changed directions. Simply moving as his bear asked without question. It wasn’t until he got closer that he came to and realized something was off.
Your smell got stronger. The hints of a floral and rich scent beckoning him. And Price followed.
John was able to take in your scent fully with his nose this time and it was even better than the last. Honey. You smelled like fresh honey mixed with a salty air and a floral scent. Bodywash, maybe. He was so distracted, he missed another scent in the air.
He traveled for about half a mile, paying no mind to the other hikers that had spotted him. The rushing of the river began a craving for fish. Price thought he saw salmon on one of his routes. As the clearing came up, there you were.
Sitting at the edge of the river, squatting to look under the water was you. You were out hiking it seemed, your backpack too light for anything else. John watched you in silence. It seemed the tranquility of the forest extended even to you. Almost adding to its beauty.
You threw you head back and gave a hearty laugh. What a wonderful sound it was. The trance Price basked in was interrupted by a stranger.
A man, walking closer to you from behind. He was about the same height as John, but not nearly as muscled or big. Not nearly as strong as Price. He was on the younger side, but still a threat nonetheless. The bear readied his stance, ready to intervene at a moments notice, when you turned your head and spoke to the man. You knew each other. And by the way the man put his hand on your back and sat next to you, it seemed you knew each other better than just friends.
Price had to focus on staying hidden in the trees. Watching. Observing. Calculating his next move.
He could shift back and approach the “couple,” giving some bullshit excuse for interrupting them. Maybe you’ll pick me over him. The thought pleased him, but no. That wouldn’t be enough. You were too smart to believe anything he’d come up with.
His mind ran a mile a minute, trying to figure out what to do. He could leave. Neither of you had spotted him, his fur helping him blend into the foliage, keeping him concealed. And as the two of you sat on the edge of the river, looking over the horizon, none the wiser, the stranger said something that caught your attention. Price got down lower, his years of stealth being an innate skill drilled in his bones.
Your voices were too soft for him to hear. But as the man touched the soft skin on your cheek and leaned in carefully, the bear roared, an anger carrying Price forward into the clearing and disturbing you both.
“Oh shit!” The man was on his feet in an instant, spotting the bear immediately. The look of confusion on your face was adorable. But the pure fear that replaced it tightened something in his chest. The big, bad bear had made himself known and there was no going back. So Price led into it with full force.
He raised onto his hind legs to his full height, his eyes never leaving the man that dare touch what’s his. The frustrations from the last few days came forth. The itch for violence that was always under his skin reaching a tipping point that he released in a bellow.
The call of the wild.
It didn’t take the man long to get to his feet and start running the other direction. He hadn’t even looked back to see if you would follow. A coward. He sneered.
Staying still under the scrutiny of a beast like him, you were too stunned to move. The pure fear in your eye was enough to tell Price everything he needed to know. You were smart not to run in front of a wild creature.
As the coward continued to run, further than necessary, Price might add, and once the threat was deemed safe enough, the bear dropped back on all fours. He let out a chuff of annoyance as his attention turned back to you as a sniffle caught his attention.
Price wasn’t close, but he could still see the tears growing along your tear line, threatening to fall. John almost felt bad about scaring you the way he did, but he knew there was no point fighting instinct.
So instead, he laid down on all fours, his arms and leg splayed out under him and put his chin on the ground. He hoped you knew what he was trying to do, look as non-threatening as possible. That was his mission.
You stood up on shaky legs, unsure of what to do with this strange bear’s behavior. You’ve of course have had tips you’ve picked up over the years on what to do when you encounter wild animals in these mountains, but the blood coursing through your veins wipes away any memory of them.
But…there’s something different about this bear. You can’t put your finger on it, but you trust your intuition and you get a burst of courage.
Price has to focus on staying still, but he can’t deny the burst of excitement in his stomach as you take careful steps closer. His eyes never leave you, watching your confidence grow with every step as you come closer to him.
Mission successful.  
Something speaks to you. You’re unable to tell what has come over you. Walking up to a wild bear after being abandoned by Tim. There’s a flame of anger that begins to start, leaving you like that, but you tamp it down in favor to focus on the wild bear in front of you.
The bear chuffs again, it doesn’t sound threatening, but you stop anyway. What you are you thinking!? There’s still a possibility of being mauled by a bear out in the middle of the mountains because you walked up to it? The thought doesn’t get any less crazy.
You’re about to turn back around when you examine the bear again. He hasn’t moved. Staying still as you approached him. It’s like he knows. You can see it in his eyes, something human about them. You finish crossing the distance to the bear, close enough to touch.
Price makes sure to not make any sudden movements, but he does lift his head up closer to you, seeing if he can get lucky twice. At his insistence, you finally reach your hand out to him, close enough to gently pet his head.
Price was in heaven.
Your hands are soft against his skin. Softer than his fur even. Gentle. John knew you’d have a gentle hand. A pleased rumble starting in his chest. Something he hasn’t done in years and it feels good. It feels great.
“You’re not so scary, huh?” You giggle lightly, your nerves settled after the adrenaline wore off.
Never for you.
You get a burst of courage and reach a little further, reaching behind the bear’s ears. Price melted.
He wanted more. He needed more.
He tilted his head to the side to allow you more access behind his ears. He can’t think of the last time someone showed him so pleasantly. The bear leaned over completely, laying on his side and showing you his belly as you make sure to show the other ear as much attention as the first. So thorough. Such a good girl. The pleased rumbles grow louder.
A flick of the bear’s ear causes him pause and suddenly sits up. You are able to move out of the way and step back, remembering you don’t have any protection on you incase this bear changes it’s mind. But he had other concerns.
The sound of a truck rumbling through the trees on the ranger’s path he took many times that day. How could John forget the protocol for spotting large animals? He’s never been so reckless before.
A new tension replaced your fear, concern as the truck came in sight. “Go,” you told the bear, “they might hurt you. Shoo, shoo.”
No one has never shooed away John Price before. He knew the protocol for a sighting and Marcus wouldn’t shoot him unless it was a last resort, but who was he to deny an order from his pretty little bird? He raised up, shaking his fur a bit of any debris and sticks he accumulated. He checked on you one more time. Your hands were still shaking, maybe from adrenaline, maybe from fear, but you looked more stable. Better. “Go,” you insisted again.
He chuffed again, but followed your orders. As Price worked to blend back into the words, he knew one thing for certain.
He will never let you go.
-been thinking if it would be easier to set up all my works in one place if it'd be helpful?
(edit: I did it -> list)
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blackwidownat2814 · 5 months ago
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Steal My Thunder (T.Owens)
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Pairing: Tyler Owens x female reader, Tyler Owens x shy!reader, Tyler Owens x insecure!reader
Word Count: 462
A/N: Welcome to my first Tyler Owens fic! I was throwing fic ideas around before I even saw the movie. I watched several interviews and other stuff on YouTube and took notes even. Then after seeing it the third time, I started working on this story. I don't anticipate this being a real long story, but I also will be a little slow to update because of work or writer's block or working on a crochet project I really need to finish. What I'm really saying is please be patient with me. Secondly, like in my other works, I'd planned to make this with a plus size!reader in mind, but I decided to go with insecure because I want to try and be a little more inclusive. Also, unless otherwise stated, my readers are always female readers. Lastly, I'm already working on Chapter 1, so keep an eye out for that. However, if you really like this, please let me know and I can tag you in future updates. And as always, I will be crossposting this to AO3. If you see this story anywhere besides AO3 or Tumblr, it's stolen Kthxbye! PS: Thanks to KJ & Jordyn for their help in beta-ing and title/chapter ideas! Love y'all!
Prologue
You were a Lead Meteorologist for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.  You should not be handling school age tour groups.  You were just about DONE with being treated like a secretary.  The rest of them thought that just because Kate was gone that they could go back to treating you like they did before her.
You were quiet, shy, and someone whose love language was acts of service, so you loved to help people out.  The problem was that your co-workers abused that part of you.  They asked to lead the school groups, bring everyone coffee, put together packets for meetings, etc.  Complete nonsense…and you were done.
It was then, as you mentally typed up your resignation, that you received a serendipitous call from Kate herself.
“I believe the sayin’ is ‘No man left behind’.”
“You’re not an US Army Ranger, B.”
“Yeah, well…”  You trailed off, not wanting to burden your friend with your issues.  Kate always told you that it was okay to talk to her when you needed someone, but you were stubborn.  You were very much of the ‘friends aren’t therapists’ mindset.
“Talk to me B.”
“I’m happy for you, ya know?  You’re back to doing’ something I know you loved.  I can see it in your eyes with each video or stream I watch.”
“Okay, keep your secrets…and thank you.  I am happy.”
“So…what can I do for ya?  Why are you botherin’ me on my lunch hour?”
“Damn!  Sorry about that B.”
“You know I don’t actually care.  Tell me what’s up.”
“I’m callin’ with a job off-”
“I’ll take it.”
“Woah, I haven’t even said what it-”
“I don’t care.  Ever since you left, and because I’m a huge push over, everyone’s been walking all over me.  You know I had to do three tours today?”
“We’ve talked about this.”
“I know Kate.  Just…what’s the job anyway?”  Your friend was silent for a moment, before you heard her exhale.
“It’s storm data analysis really.”
“Elaborate.”
“We’re trying to really get down to the nitty gritty with the data from the EF-5 we got to dissipate last season and see where to improve, how to catalog it in our info database, etc.”
“I’m in”, you said.  “Y’all won’t treat me like some secretary, I’ll be close to home again, and I’ll get to spend all my time with you.”
“We most definitely will not treat you like some secretary.  We’re equal opportunity storm chasers out here.”
You tossed your empty sandwich bag into the trash and pulled up Word to start drafting your resignation letter.
“Say, what are the benefits as a Tornado Wrangler?”  Before Kate could reply, you heard Boonie baby! Woo! in the background.
With that enthusiasm, what could possibly go wrong?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tagging: @buckysdollforlife @13braincellsonly
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ixiot-ghostrebel · 10 months ago
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Hey dude. It's me - anon with that SAGAU!kid!reader idea. Well, I was thinking about Liyue or Sumeru men (I'm that kind of person, that's into guys LOL). If there is a relationship, then only platonic one (or maybe father-child in Zhongli's case).
So I will try to go with Zhongli, Baizhu, Alhaitham and Cyno (probably Gaming, cuz he's like a son to me) That's it for now Hope I didn't ask for much tho 😅
CONNECTED TO THIS IDEA!
Aye aye, Anon! God!Child! Reader Platonic Meets Ups It is!
Also plz note that I might not be able to list every Sumeru/Liyue man there is in Genshin bc Im doing this at the top of my head—
Sumeru And Liyuen Men (And Gaming) With The God Child.
(Warning: Might be OOC!)
Cyno
The General Mahamatra may not exactly be well-versed when it comes to comforting words (except his puns—and even then, many people would say otherwise), but Cyno is a sincere man. You can trust that he will stick to his word.
And he does, when he promised to look after the Almighty Creator who is a child (not unlike Nahida, but they certainly have more of a mindset of a child—). But was he expecting your chaotic behavior (explosives Klee Style)? Yeah...No.
Bro nearly thought you were held at gunpoint or tricked/manipulated into doing it until he realized you did on your own.
"...Your Grace...Please don't blow up the store again." So instead of protecting you from harm by others, Cyno is more focused on protecting others from harm by you. As much as he doesn't like to think of it that way, you were a lot more dangerous than any eremite or sand monster there was out there.
At least he's still doing his job, being the General Mahamatra! You gift him a flower crown, and he has to take it or else. :)
Tighnari
Since he works with many young forest rangers, and tutors Collei, Tighnari is probably used to dealing with children. Dealing with the Almighty Creator certainly wasn't going to be an issue under this Forest Watcher's eyes.
That was...until you blew up a rishboland tiger. By yourself. On your own. Without getting hurt.
He was not the only freaking out, mind you. Collei was losing it, and Tighnari? He's internally screaming and getting metaphorical heart attacks.
"Your Grace, what were you thinking, running off like that? I know you're strong and you want to protect everyone, but you can really hurt the environment and—" He tries his best to hold back his sassiness while he scolds you, considering some children are much more emotional than others.
He sets up some basic rules for you to follow to make sure that you respect the Avidya Rainforest grounds, but also protect yourself from any form of harm.
Bro becomes a helicopter parent while you're under his care. Have fun, and I hope you enjoy mushrooms. Collei will cook you something else if you don't like what Tighnari cooks, though. :)
Kaveh
This man. He will BUILD you toys. He will DRAW you stories. He may even tell you stories himself.
Mehrak is your best friend when you're around Kaveh. And that man tries his best to make sure your time with him is good. He also refrains from drinking, which is nice! He's improving a little! :D
Absolutely gets worried if you run off without him knowing or if you're hiding from him for too long while playing hide and seek. He goes into an utter MELTDOWN.
And if you blow something up? Boy, if you thought Tighnari getting metaphorical heart attacks was bad, think again—Kaveh might actually get a heart attack.
"Your Grace! What—What were you thinking? Where were you? What did you do? Why did I hear an explosion?!" He's trying to keep himself as calm as possible, but Kaveh is an emotional man. He's kind of failing—
Luckily, with your go-lucky attitude, you pull Kaveh around and take his mind off of work and your explosions! Win-win! :D
Al-haitham
The moment Nahida assigned him the task of taking care of the Almighty Creator, who is a child, bro is planning his things carefully. He is safe-keeping his books, he's renovating Kaveh's bedroom (bc yes), he's buying a few colouring books and crayons.
What he caught him by surprise was not how trusting you were to new strangers you barely knew. It was how you had fun with explosions and exploding everything in your path.
You can imagine as you're being carried away by the Scribe, he's giving you a one-sentence scolding.
"Your Grace, don't ever do that again, it's not nice." He would go into further detail, but he's sure you wouldn't care all that much about data and analysis and stuff like that, so he just ends it as it is.
You're still gonna do it, there's no doubt. It's just now Al-haitham is preparing for your next incoming attack as well.
Zhongli
Grandpa gramps is here woohoo! He's probably the most calmest out of everyone on this request list LOL. You can imagine he's following you calmly, apologizing and paying (through Childe's money cough) for the damages you caused.
Believe it or not, but it was Hu Tao who found you first and decided to take you to Mr. Zhongli for babysitting. He contemplates how the Director found you and brought you back.
The first time you explode something, he is definitely surprised. And concerned of the people who got hurt. You can't fault him for being worried for the mortals that were involved—Liyue Harbor is basically his child. Bro's been governing it for thousands of years.
"Your Grace, Little One, let's try not to put strain in the efforts of an adult's day-to-day life." He scolds you, and will definitely be more keen on your whereabouts, but he does this in a gentle tone. At the very least, you give him something to do that doesn't require him to present himself as the supposedly "deceased" Geo Archon.
Baizhu
With the guy's health issues...it's hard to say if he'll be able to keep up with you and your constant outings all around Liyue Harbor. Changsheng is definitely worried about Baizhu's stress levels as he has to figure out what you did this time and make sure no one was harmed.
He constantly has to ask Qiqi to go find you since he literally cannot keep up with your speed, lest he actually faints or something. You were that quick.
Luckily, if he hears of your whereabouts, he will definitely arrive just in time to apologize and give free check-ups to everyone involved in your explosion party.
"Now, Your Grace, please refrain from hurting others. It's not good to hurt someone's health." You can certainly expect Baizhu to give you a scolding—as well as a basic understanding of medical care in case either you or someone else will need it, and he can't make it there in time.
Like Kaeya (And Tighnari in this post), Baizhu will definitely write you some rules in a notebook and makes you recite them at least twice a day so that you remember not to hurt other people or damage your own health.
He is a doctor for a reason. It's his job to look out for others—even chaotic children with explosives.
Gaming
HAVE NO FEAR, GAMING IS HERE!
Bro is basically your Big Brother who does cool dances and gives you snacks and protects you. Since he's a real foody, you'll definitely know which places are the best to buy snacks!
You find his Wushou Dancing cool as well. He takes pride in it tbh. I mean, who wouldn't be ecstatic if the Almighty Creator loves it?
He does get a bit panic-y when he sees you blow things up, though. As much as he wants to pursue Wushou Dancing as his daily career, he still needs his job as a Shipment Guard.
"Y/N! No! Don't blow that up—!" Yes, he took you out once to travel with the shipment goods for one time, and he's never taken you with him again unless you promise not to blow anything that are near the goods.
He usually leaves you in Liyue Harbor when he's making these Shipment trips, but once he returns, you can certainly count on him to give you some tasty snack or a fulfilling dinner, as well as a free small Wushou Dance.
Big Brother Gaming does not disappoint!
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Ghost Rebel Side Notes: I AM VERY DEAD. I AM SO SORRY SOBBING. Life hits you hard and fast sometimes sigh. I've been so busy I haven't been posting much—but rest assured, I have quite a lot of posts for you guys very soon!
✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦
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thewintersoldierdisaster · 3 months ago
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a/n: hey there! i never actually planned on writing a sequel to ‘9 pm’ but a few anons asked about it and i liked the idea of giving them some happiness following that fic! the perfect title gave me the idea for the fic and here we are ☺️ i hope you guys enjoy!!
word count: 2.8k
tw: brief and minor mention of a miscarriage, pregnancy
direct sequel to 9 p.m. in vancouver
summary: andrei’s off on a road trip and you’re more exhausted than normal. once you realize why, you have to call andrei immediately
It’s barely ten at night and you’re falling asleep on the couch, Friends rerun playing at a low volume on the TV. Your blinks get longer, eyelids heavy, while Joey yells about the Coast Guard.
A yawn creaks at your jaw and you try to blink away some of the sudden exhaustion in your body. It doesn’t really work, another yawn catching you a few minutes later. You wrap your arms around one of the throw pillows, cheek smashed up against the pillow tucked under your head.
It’s been a long few days, work overwhelming you and Andrei up in the tri-state area for a mini road trip. The Canes had lost to the Flyers before beating the Devils. They’re currently up two goals on the Rangers, according to your NHL app updates, with just a few minutes left in the third.
The team will spend the night in the city before heading to Long Island for the second half of a back to back tomorrow.
It’s a grueling schedule so early in the season, four games in six days, and you know Andrei will be exhausted when he gets home on Monday morning. At least they’re off for two days before hitting the ice for a home game on Wednesday. You yawn again and decide vaguely that maybe you’ll go to the game, if you can keep your eyes open. It’s been a while since you went to the arena and you miss watching Andrei play live.
You can’t help but think briefly about the game in Vancouver last November, almost a year ago now, and your hand drifts to your stomach.
The baby would’ve been four months old, probably keeping you wide awake right now.
You don’t really think about the loss as much anymore, you can go long stretches of time without thinking about him - because you’d decided that it was a boy, even though it was too early to ever tell. Your due date had come around at the end of July and Andrei had spirited you out of the country, the both of you quiet and moody for a few days.
And then training camp had started and you’d gotten busy with work and then the season started and you didn’t dwell on the loss for a while.
But now it’s late and you’re tired and you haven’t seen Andrei in a few days and you should be cuddling a baby right now.
A few tears trickle down your temple and you swipe at them, emotion clogging your throat.
“God, get a grip,” you mutter to yourself, shaking your head slightly. It’s not even like you’re on your period to be so hormonal right now. Your brain takes a second to process the thought and when it does, your eyes widen and you kick your legs out, struggling with the blanket to try and sit up.
“Oh, oh my god,” you scramble for your phone, tossing blankets around until you hear the tell-tale thunk of the phone hitting the floor. You lunge for it, the TV remote going flying, but you barely pay attention to that as your fingers wrap around the loop on the back of your phone case and snatch it off the floor.
Your hands shake violently as you unlock your phone and thumb over to find your period tracker app. The app takes seconds to load, seconds where your heart beats wildly and your vision goes a little blurry. You mutter, “come on, faster, faster,” under your breath and suddenly the screen loads and there in the center of the screen, in bold font, is the notice that your period has been late for more than thirty days.
You’ve missed two periods.
Without even realizing it.
To be fair to yourself, after the miscarriage, everything was thrown off and you’ve only had seven or eight periods in the past year. So it’s not totally crazy that you didn’t realize you missed two cycles.
Your stomach lurches a little bit and you chew at your lower lip. You probably should take a test. But do you want to know without Andrei, again?
It didn’t work out so well last time.
You’re probably not even pregnant, you rationalize, it’s the stress of a new season starting and your body getting back to normal.
Never mind the fact that you’ve long been cleared to get pregnant again and your gynaecologist hadn’t said anything was wrong at your last appointment.
Your phone vibrates in your hand, nearly scaring the shit out of you. It’s just a notification from the NHL app - sometime in the last few minutes, while you’d been spiralling, the Rangers had tied the game and it was going to overtime.
Overtime anxiety is better than maybe-pregnant anxiety, so you tune into Bally, the sudden brightness of the glare off the ice making you blink. You’re half-heartedly paying attention, fingers tapping against your thigh while the players zip up and down the ice, trading scoring chances. Andrei’s on the ice for a shift and then he’s back on the bench. Pyotr makes a save and then another and then he doesn’t.
You frown at the TV, watching Andrei and the guys file off the ice, miserable for the team’s loss. You change the channel back to Nick at Nite, not interested in seeing the post-game analysis of the loss.
The audience laughter from the show echoes around the living room and you chew at your lower lip anxiously. Andrei won’t be back to his hotel room for hours, the post-game process already underway, but between media, a shower, and the travel. Well, it’ll be at least close to midnight before you can talk to him.
He’ll reassure you that you’re overthinking, that it’s nothing. But a quiet part of your brain is insistent that you’re pregnant and it just won’t shut up.
The smartest thing would be to take a test, find out once and for all if you’re even going to mention anything to Andrei. You’re pretty sure there’s no tests left after last time and if there are, they’re probably expired.
Your fingers tap at the screen of your phone almost by memory, the Google search showing that there’s a twenty-four hour CVS just a ten minute drive away.
The episode ends and another begins while you sit on that information, giving yourself a moment to imagine what you’ll do if the test is positive. He has to know immediately this time, you don’t think you’d be able to wait.
“Oh fuck it,” you mutter to yourself, pushing the blankets off your legs and getting up from the couch. Your vision goes fuzzy, briefly, the blood rushing from your head. You blink and everything shifts back into focus, your heart hammering a little.
Before you can overthink it, you turn off the TV and head for the front door, making a stop at the front hall closet to grab a jacket. Your fingers close around the sleeve of one of Andrei’s, the jacket dwarfing your frame as you slip your arms into the sleeves. You shove your feet into a ratty pair of Uggs and drop a faded Canes ball cap on your head.
You look insane, more like a college kid doing a walk of shame than a married woman, but Andrei’s scent embedded deep into the collar of his jacket is comforting you.
At CVS, you grab at the pregnancy test boxes like a woman possessed - Clear Blue, First Response, and the CVS generic brand all go into your basket, along with a bag of pumpkin shaped Reese’s Cups and a pack of Twizzlers. Something about the waxy, artificial strawberry ropes seems appealing right now.
Thank God for self-checkout, you don’t think you can face another person right now.
The pregnancy tests feel like they weigh a million pounds in the plastic bag and you gnaw anxiously on a Twizzler as you drive back home.
It’s well after midnight by the time you manage to drink enough water in order to pee on all the sticks and this round is more anxiety producing than when you’d done it over a year ago. Once you’re done, you set the timer on your phone and flip each stick over on the counter, so you can’t see the displays.
Instead of waiting in the bathroom, which is feeling small and stuffy despite how large it actually is, you pace around your bedroom for the few minutes it takes for your timer to count down. You wonder if you could call Andrei now, be on the phone with him when you look at the display, but if you’re not pregnant and he’s on the phone, he’ll be disappointed right before the next set of games. He’s been talking about it a little more lately, in the abstract, how nice it’ll be to have a baby one day. And you maybe haven’t been as enthusiastic as he’s been, so you don’t want to get his hopes up.
If you’re not pregnant, Andrei doesn’t need to know that you worried yourself into a tizzy over nothing.
But if you are? Well, Andrei will be the first call anyway.
The timer goes off on your phone and the sudden, shrill noise makes you jump. Your stomach lurches and you flatten your palm over it. Underneath the anxiety, there’s a little bubble of excitement growing, the thought of a baby providing a little spark of joy.
You wander back into the bathroom and close your eyes before flipping the tests over with shaking hands.
The plastic clatters against the countertop and you squint one eye open and then the other, vision focusing on the little displays.
“Oh!” You gasp, eyes immediately filling with tears, hands flying up to cover your mouth.
All three are positive, the little Clear Blue display declaring you ‘Pregnant’ in tiny letters.
Tears slip down your cheeks and you start giggling wildly, overwhelmed in the best possible way. Your hands press on your stomach, palms flat and fingers splayed.
“Hey there, baby,” you murmur, looking down. “Stay safe in there, okay? We want to meet you.”
The tears fall faster and you wipe at them with your shoulder, a damp splotch forming on the fabric of your sweatshirt. It’s so late, but you need to tell Andrei, and you move on autopilot, climbing onto your bed and finding your phone among the messy covers - the bed hasn’t been made in two days because Andrei is more of a stickler for that than you are and you like to get right back into the nest of blankets at the end of the day. It’s on your list of things to do before he’s back in a few days. Now, you pile yourself into a little cocoon of the blankets and comforters, warm and happy.
You text him first, just a quick ‘you awake?’ that you know he’s going to read as a request for phone sex.
True enough, your phone vibrates in your hand a few seconds later, Andrei’s name at the top of the screen. You grin and slide the bar to answer, “hey there.”
“Is late,” he replies, a faint laugh in his tone. “Thought you would be sleeping.”
“No,” you giggle, feeling a little unhinged. “Not asleep. Couldn’t sleep. Um, are you alone?”
Your husband laughs fully now, the sound echoing over the line. “Solnyshka, been a long day. I love you, but we have early morning,” he teases and the rumble of his voice makes you smile.
“No, not for that you perv,” you shoot back, twisting your fingers in a loose thread. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
You know you’re sounding vague and strange, but to his credit, Andrei doesn’t call you out on it. Instead, he’s quiet for a second before your phone vibrates against your ear, signalling an incoming text. You pull the phone from your ear and tap over to your messages, laughing when you see the picture Andrei just sent.
The hotel room is nearly pitch black, but you can still make out the shape of Martin Nečas passed out in his bed with what looks like an eye mask covering his face. Andrei’s grinning face is cut off in the corner of the picture.
“Guess that’s a yes then,” you smile, bringing the phone back to your ear.
“Neci has earplugs in too,” Andrei informs you. “Says I snore, which is lie.”
It’s not, but you don’t feel like relitigating that particular point with him right now. So you move on.
“I know I should’ve waited, done something cute, but I’m bursting,” you let the words come out in a rush, feeling lightheaded with excitement. “I couldn’t, I had to tell you right away, Drei, baby, I’m pregnant.”
Andrei’s silent on the other end and a slightly manic laugh bubbles out of your mouth while you wait for him to say something.
“Pregnant?” He repeats, sounding like he’s just taken a blow to the stomach - winded and hoarse. “Like, with baby?”
“Yeah, mhm,” you hum, just letting the news soak in. Andrei’s breathing is audible in your ear, a soft ‘huh’ puffing out.
He starts to laugh and you can hear the grin in his voice when he says, “oh, solnyshka, fuck, I’m… ya chertovski schastliv.”
He slips into Russian and you’re not totally familiar with the words, but he repeats them in English, “I’m so fucking happy. Are you okay? How you feel?”
“I’m okay, I was feeling a little tired earlier,” you say. “That’s kind of why I took the test, just to see.”
Without asking, Andrei switches the call to a FaceTime and you pull the phone back, his grinning face taking up the entire screen. He looks lighter and happier than he has in months and the sight of him, of that smile that you love so much, makes you emotional.
“I wish I could kiss you,” he shakes his head, still smiling. “Hold you, something other than smile like idiot on phone.”
“I’m just happy to see your smile,” you say truthfully. A hug wouldn’t be unwelcome, but just seeing Andrei’s face has you calmer. “It’s late,” you continue, catching sight of the time in the top left corner of your phone - nearly 1:30 in the morning. “You should get some sleep.”
The adrenaline is starting to wear off now and you slump back against the pillows and headboard.
Andrei nods. “Call me when you get up,” he requests, phone bouncing slightly as he shifts on the bed. “We leave early, but call any time, okay?”
“Okay,” you promise, pressing your lips together to smother a yawn. “Hey, I love you.”
“Ya tebya lyublyu,” Andrei replies in Russian, warm and awed. “You and baby, both.”
You’re both quiet for a bit, comfortable and sleepy, reluctant to end the call. You just want to enjoy his long-distance presence and this little bubble, but eventually Martin lets out a snore on his side of the room, startling you since you forgot he was there. Andrei laughs faintly and reluctantly ends the call, after telling you he loves you again.
Now that Andrei knows, your whole body relaxes and you sink happily into the nest of blankets and pillows, curled up in a c-shape, one hand on your stomach.
There’s a million things to figure out in the coming days, weeks, and months, a million worries to ruminate on, but for now, you fall asleep with a smile on your face and pure happiness bubbling in your stomach.
The next morning, you snooze your alarm and allow yourself to wake up slowly and lazily. It’s an easy morning and you don’t plan on getting out of bed until you hear the doorbell ring.
With a grumble, you climb out of bed and shove your feet into a pair of slippers to pad downstairs, wondering who could be at the door this early.
It’s a delivery man, half-hidden behind a huge bouquet of flowers. You accept it, surprised at the delivery but not at the sender.
The oversized bouquet made up of baby roses, baby’s breath, and a few other types all in various shades of baby pink and baby blue can only be from your husband. Your face hurts from the size of your smile and you dig out the little card from between a pale pinks rose and a light blue hydrangea.
‘I love you, we will celebrate as soon as I am home. A hug and a kiss from New York for you, mama. -A’
It’s not Andrei’s handwriting, but you trace your fingers over the letters and feel tears well up. Any concerns or worries you might have about having a baby are pushed aside.
Andrei’s going to be the best dad and you’re so lucky to be doing this with him.
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turcott3 · 10 months ago
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good looking
matt rempe x fem! reader
warnings?: cursing, fluff, kissing, pet names
oh my good looking boy…
masterlist
-
“matt?” you call out as you hear your apartment door shut from your bed. you heard keys drop in the bowl and that answered your suspicion. the rangers had just lost the day prior and he was just coming back home.
“matt?” you ask again, getting out of bed walking out into your living room, “baby?”
“i’m home.” he smiles, revealing the flowers he’d bought for you on his short trip from the airport.
“awe matty you didn’t have to.” you frown sweetly at the gesture, taking the flowers from his hands.
“i wanted to, i missed you.” the brunette says lowly, towering over you. you noted the stitches in his nose. his face a little swollen from his fight last night that he’d unfortunately fallen short in.
“i missed you too.” you reply as he leans down kissing you gently on the lips.
“you go get settled, i’ll take care of these fucking gorgeous flowers and dinner, okay?” you say running a careful finger over the cut on his face which he winced slightly at the touch.
“okay.” he smiled lightly.
“looks like he got you good.” you giggled.
“yeah well can’t win em all. i was exhausted.” he sighs.
“i’ll step in next time, can’t let em beat up my good looking boy.” you smile sweetly, placing a light hand on his cheek.
“would you still love me even if my face gets pounded? entirely theoretical by the way.” he giggles lightly.
“yes matt, i would. even when you had a broken nose and black eyes you were still the most handsome man i’ve ever laid my eyes on.” you reply with no hesitation as he lifts you off the ground in a hug.
“god i love you.” he says placing a kiss on your head, “i’m gonna unpack, when i’m done i’ll come help you with dinner, okay baby?”
“okay, no rush.” you say as he kisses you one last time before dragging his bags into your bedroom. you start dinner with a huge smile on your face. the way he made you feel was, undeniably, the feeling of true love. the way you get butterflies every time he walks in the room, the sweet gestures such as giving you flowers or a writing you a letter and left it for you when he leaves for morning practice. it all made you grow more and more in love with him everyday. you didn’t know how you could possibly be more in debt to him even though he did it out of the kindness of his heart, not to get something back from you.
“let me take over. go change, i got you something.” he says sneaking up behind you, placing delicate hands on your waist and leaning his head in the crook of your neck.
“just stir it every now and then.” you reply kissing him on the cheek and escaping his grasp, quickly walking to your bedroom. laid out on the bed was a satin pajama set, the exact one you’ve been talking about since you saw it at the mall at least a month ago.
“he remembered.” you scoff, your heart growing warm. you quickly discard your clothes, changing into the silky satin of your new pajamas. you looked at yourself in the mirror, loving the way it complimented your skin tone. confidently, you walked back out into the kitchen.
“matthew rempe.” you say startling him.
“what happened?”
“are you serious? i’ve been talking about these for so long and you remembered?” you say as a smile grows on his face.
“well yeah, of course i did.”
“oh thank you thank you thank you. i love them so much.” you say walking over to him quickly wrapping your arms around him. soon enough you were enveloped in his large, loving arms once again.
“i’m glad, you look beautiful.” he giggles.
-
“dishes are done.” matt smiles waltzing into the bedroom and shutting the door behind him.
“can i take a look at the cut on your face?” you ask, stopping him in his tracks.
“it’s okay, you don’t have to-“
“no come on,” you say throwing the covers off of you. he takes a seat on the closed toilet lid and separates his legs for you to stand between. you take your place between his legs taking his face into your hands and brush his hair out of the way. his arms find their way around your legs, holding you lightly in place. you scanned the cut, noting that they had simply stitched him up and sent him on his way.
“they really stitched you up and sent you back out didn’t they?” you ask.
“yeah.”
“hold one second, i just want to clean it and put a bandaid on it so it doesn’t look so gnarly.” you say, tapping his arm to let you go. you dig under the sink finding alcohol and cotton balls, as well as a bandaid.
“it’s gonna burn.” you state holding the soaked cotton ball.
“try me.” he simply replied and you shrug pressing it straight onto the cut. his grip on your legs tightened and he clenched his eyes shut at the contact.
“okay just kidding.” he says, clearly in pain.
“i told you honey.” you laugh pressing a kiss to the top of the boys head. you cleaned him up and perfectly placed the bandaid on top of the cut, kissing it once it was laid flat.
“much better.” you smile locking eyes with the boy, who you swear was giving you literal heart eyes.
“thank you my love.” he says kissing you delicately on the cheek before following closely behind you on your way back into the room.
“come here you big baby.” you laugh leaning your back slightly up against the headboard, waiting for the 6’7 baby to take his place on your chest, which he of course did very quickly.
“thank you for cleaning my cut and taking care of me y/n.” he says quietly as you run your fingers gently through his brown locks.
“and thank you for loving me the way you do.” he continues, leaning up to look at you.
“it’s hard not to, i’d do anything for you matt. it’s a privilege to know you, let alone love you.” you giggle
“my beautiful girl.” he sighs with a smile as he kisses you lovingly before laying his head back down on your chest carefully.
“i love you matt.” you say with your hand finding its way back into his soft hair.
“i love you so much more baby.” he replies, his hands finding their way underneath you.
“you’re about to go to sleep on me aren’t you?”you ask noticing his breathing slowing down.
“yep.” he replies quietly, allowing the sleepy boy to drift off to sleep in the comfort of your embrace.
-
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