#sabre replies

[just-another-rainy-day]

Why do I feel like all the fencing blogs on here are just the same person wearing various hats

Checks out in my opinion

[selkiefinalist]

✨ :)

✨ A fic you wish you could read again for the first time

i feel like i have posted about most of those already so here is bloom, a mittelstadt/dahlin that heavily featured plant magic (very surprising rec from me i know 😂) that i was utterly charmed by

[nextstopwonderland]

Nigel knows what the people want

[just-another-colin-kinnie]

I'm curious how many rp's you know because i know a lot

And uh thanks for the offer but daycare rp's aren't really my thing these days. It"s still cute looking though

I probably don't know that much, I've been violently focused on all the rps ryguyrocky makes for YEAARS, it's simply a hole I'm trapped in 💔 but the furthest I've traveled from it was probably watching the Steve Saga by favermysabre

[theemporium]

[22k] in attempt to bridge the decades old rivalry between the two gangs, a marriage of alliance is proposed between the new jersey devils and the new york rangers. the last thing you expected was to find yourself offered on a silver platter to your enemies. and you certainly didn't expect your future husband to be the likes of the devils leader himself, nico hischier.

new jersey mob masterlist || nhl mob masterlist

warning: this is a mob au. topics and themes such as violence, blood, murder and gun use are prevalent and constant throughout the fic. please keep that in mind if you choose to proceed with this fic and the whole series.

read part two here

.

“You know I would never question your authority—”

“It sounds like you’re about to question it.” 

“Are you really sure this is a good idea?” 

The footsteps echoing through the long corridor came to an abrupt stop as Nico stopped walking. The second set stopped shortly after, and he turned to find his second-in-command already looking at him with a mixed expression. It made him sigh, pushing back the meeting they were currently walking to to the back of his mind as he turned to his closest friend and confidante. 

The same man he had chosen to stand beside him in this lifestyle of theirs without a moment of hesitation because he knew no one would have his back the way Jesper Bratt did.

“Would there even be a point if I said no? It’s not like we can back out now,” Nico pointed out, and he watched Jesper’s shoulders slump a little like he was expecting that answer.

Jesper gritted his teeth. “I just don’t understand why you are doing this.”

“It’s for an alliance, Jesper, we’ve been over this,” Nico said, and despite himself, his eyes softened a little when he noted the hint of concern in his second-in-command‘s face. “We have too many enemies for our own good. We need to have people we can trust.” 

His eyes narrowed. “And you think you can trust them?”

“Just as much as they can trust us,” Nico replied, though the response sounded way too rehearsed and planned, even to his own ears. “We need this as much as they do.” 

“We have plenty of enemies you could have negotiated an alliance with,” Jesper pointed out. “We could have strengthened the bond with Philadelphia. Or even the Sabres. Hell, Nico, you could have even tried to fix things with the Panthers down south. Why in loving fuck would you pick the Rangers?”

Nico remained silent.

“Because you want something from them,” Jesper murmured, realisation clicking into place as he carefully noted Nico’s expression. “Or someone.” 

“I am doing it for the sake of the gang,” Nico answered simply.

A slow smile spread across Jesper’s face. “Us, huh?” 

“Shut up.” 

“You know, as your second-in-command, surely I deserve to know what your game plan is.” 

“My game plan is to get to this meeting and sign the papers to start a new era of alliance with the New York Rangers,” Nico stated, his voice simple and blunt, but Jesper knew better. “That is all.” 

“Nothing else?”

“Nothing else.” 

“Hm, sure.” 

Nico shot the boy a look over his shoulder, but Jesper just grinned in response.

“I should’ve brought Palat with me instead,” he grumbled under his breath, lips twitching upwards when he heard Jesper let out a noise of disagreement. “C’mon, don’t wanna be late.” 

“Please, we are already thirty minutes early.” 

“Walk faster.”

…

“Stop making that face.” 

Silence.

“You look prettier when you smile.”

Silence. 

“Rogue, baby, come on. Don’t be like that—” 

Your hand snapped out, your fingers wrapped around his wrist and halting his actions before he could even reach out to touch you. You turned your head to look at him for the first time since you left the house back in New York, your glare icy and cold. 

“Don’t try to fucking touch me again.” 

Jacob Trouba stared back at you, his face remaining impressively blank but you noted the small twitch in his jaw. It wasn’t often someone talked back to the boss of the New York Rangers and didn’t face some consequence, but you guessed you were getting a pass due to current circumstances. 

“Play nice,” he said eventually as he leaned back against his chair. You sat in the seat next to him to his right, with two men settled behind. Jacob had said they didn’t need any more men in the room, but you knew well enough that he would have some of his men crawling within a block radius of the building. “And try not to be too difficult.” 

“You picked the wrong woman then,” you retorted, your whole body feeling stiff and on edge as you glanced over at the clock above the door. Two more minutes before the meeting was set to begin. “There’s still time to change. There’s always—”

“Not happening.” 

You gritted your teeth together. 

“Smile.” 

“Don’t fucking test me right now.” 

You heard one of the boys choking on a laugh, quickly trying to cover it up with a laugh. You didn’t need to turn your head to know that Jacob was probably glaring at them. 

You couldn’t even find it within yourself to smile at the interaction. 

When Jacob had called you into his office two weeks ago, you honestly thought he was joking. He had told you about the offer the Devils had offered, a few other members of his inner circle in the room as the lot of you discussed it. Most of you mocked it, talked about how it was a fucking joke that such a deep, historical rivalry was meant to be fixed with one marriage. Jacob himself had made a few teasing comments during the whole thing. 

Then, a week later he told you he was actually contemplating it. 

And then, just this morning, he gave you next to no warning that it would be you heading across the river to marry one of the Devils boys. 

Your reaction was as one expected when they were told they were practically being sold off for the sake of an alliance—you were fucking pissed. You laughed it off but when he didn’t join, you felt an unexplainable rage bubble inside you.

You knew how this world worked. You knew the reality and the politics of mob life. You knew nothing but mob life. And you knew very well the way women were seen in the eyes of the mob, the way they were seen as objects more so than humans. You had seen friends close to you be shipped across the country for the sake of alliance arranged marriages. 

But never once did you think it would be you.

Never once did you think Jacob would pull this shit on you. 

And for an alliance with the Devils, of all fucking people.

You weren’t the kind of girl that mob men liked. You weren’t quiet or compliant or a pushover. You weren’t the kind of girl they liked to have on their arm to show off. You weren’t the kind of girl to be a mob wife, full stop. 

Jacob knew this. He knew it better than anyone. It was the main fucking reason you were close to him, that you had his respect, that you were one of the few people in his inner circle that he trusted beyond belief.

And he had thrown it back in your face. 

You hadn’t spoken to him after your initial outburst. Once your throat was raw and your hands were shaking with rage, you had turned on your heel and walked out the room. He had tried to speak to you, quite a few of the boys did. But you remained silent for the whole ride over, for the hours that passed, for the whole day until a few minutes ago. 

“You are being fucking ridiculous right now.” 

A muscle in your jaw twitched, an overbearing urge to turn in your seat and spit out every thought you had bubbling in your mind since this morning, but your attention was quickly diverted by the sound of the door opening. 

You had encountered many of the Devils before, though not many of their faces were familiar and recognisable. It was good to know one’s enemy, to know the strongest and weakest points of their group. You had studied them far more than you cared to admit, probably more so than needed over the years. 

However, years of meetings and unfortunate accounts meant you recognised the faces that walked through the door, but the last person still took you by surprise. You knew he would be here, you expected as much. 

But never once had you met Nico Hischier in the flesh. 

His reputation preceded him. You had heard a lot about the man, most of it surrounding the young age he stepped into power for the Devils. You knew what the other organisations thought about him, the whispers and rumours that travelled outside of New York where the hatred and rivalry wasn’t so prominent. 

He was seen to be…fair. 

You didn’t think it was necessarily possible to be considered fair in the life you all were in.

“Hischier.” 

You watched the man stop at the other side of the table, making a point of dragging the chair out and settling down comfortably. He waited a few moments as his men stood behind him in formation, and only after they were comfortable, did he speak.

“Trouba.” 

You could only imagine how much he was seething. A small part of you enjoyed it, even if you didn’t turn to watch his expression closely. 

“I assume you still agree to the terms of our deal.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement that laid heavy in the air between the two men.

“As long as nothing has changed on your side.”

Jacob’s lips twitched. “Now, Nico, what kind of man would you take me for? This is about an alliance.” 

Nico raised his brows a little. “To the start of a new beginning.” 

Jacob’s eyes shifted away from the man he had called his mortal enemy for years now, and instead shifted to you. “Your boys will like her.”

Your jaw clenched. 

“A wife isn’t meant to be shared,” Nico retorted, though there was a hint of something in his voice you couldn’t establish. “Though, I am not sure how things are run in New York.”

Jacob laughed, but it wasn’t one of amusement like the room pretended it was. “Of course not. I am sure—”

“Do I get to know who I’m marrying now?” You spoke up, watching as every pair of eyes in the room turned to you. They were heavy and judging and focused, but your expression remained impassive. “Or am I expected to just sign a paper and be done with it?” 

Nico’s eyes fell onto you, something swirling in them that felt strong and captivating and almost made you want to lean a little closer to read whatever was written in them. He tilted his head, almost like he was inquiring your words before he spoke.

“You’ll be my wife.” 

You froze, blinking. 

Understanding washed over Nico’s expression. “You didn’t know.”

“No,” you gritted out, your nails digging into your palm as that bubbling rage from earlier returned. “I did not.” 

Nico’s eyes shifted to Jacob, and you resisted the urge to do the same.

“I didn’t see it necessary information to share,” was all Jacob responded with. 

You bit your tongue.

“Hm,” Nico hummed, seeming to have a lot more to say but resisting the urge to do so. His eyes lingered on Jacob for a few moments, analysing and observing before his gaze settled on you again. “Are you returning to New Jersey with us, or do you wish to return to New York to collect your things?” 

You opened your mouth but Jacob bet you to it.

“She will go with you once the marriage is official.” 

Nico didn’t take his eyes off you. “I wasn’t asking you, Trouba.” 

You heard someone cough behind you, but you found yourself staring right back at Nico.

He raised his brows in question. 

And you could feel Jacob’s eyes boring into your side. 

And maybe it was petty or maybe it was fuelled by the lingering anger you had towards the man, but you kept your eyes on Nico as you spoke. 

“Might as well get used to New Jersey as soon as I can, no?” You stated simply, but you could have sworn he almost looked pleased with your response before his eyes returned to Jacob. 

“Then it’s settled,” he said as he pushed himself off his chair, the two men behind him quickly taking a step closer as if on instinct. “We’ll be sure to send you a wedding invitation.”

…

You thought you had an idea what it would be like to live with the New Jersey Devils, truthfully because you didn’t assume it would be all that different to life with the Rangers. You weren’t naive enough to think both organisations were run the exact same way, but you assumed there would be a lot more similarities than there actually were.

The first thing that caught you by surprise was the way they talked. 

You hadn’t spoken a word as you left the room, not taking Nico’s offer to say your goodbyes to the Rangers you had come with. The last thing you needed to hear was an earful from Jacob for not following his orders, or his plan (the one he conveniently kept to himself and expected everyone to simply know). You followed Nico out the door, trying not to feel so on edge about having the two other Devils flanking you from behind.

When you reached the car, it wasn’t too much of a surprise that Nico reached to open your door. Most men were raised to act like gentlemen in this life, even if they were far from it. He waited until you were settled in the seat behind the passenger’s seat, seatbelt clicked in place before he closed the door.

You were somewhat surprised to find him round the car and settle on the other side of the backseat, and not sit in the front. You tried not to stare at him too much. 

You expected the drive back to be similar to the journey you had with Trouba this morning. It almost startled you the way the three of them instantly broke out into conversation. 

It wasn’t anything damning or secretive, but it still felt wrong to listen in. It felt wrong for them to talk in front of you. It felt like a culture shock, being in a car and not having the people inside the vehicle with you being overly paranoid at the car being tapped. It felt weird that they didn’t even hesitate, didn’t even wait until the dark haired man (the vague memory of his name on the tip of your tongue) in the front had turned the key in the ignition. 

“I get to choose the music since I rode shotgun!” The blond in the passenger seat blurted out before the car had even reversed out of its space.

“Fuck off, you like my music!” Nico snapped back.

“Sure, Boss, sure.” 

You blinked. 

The fact they spoke was one thing, but you certainly didn’t expect them to talk to each other like that. The fact they spoke to Nico—their boss—like that. It was far from what you were expecting. 

“Back me up, Siegs,” the blond tried again but the man in the driver’s seat just snorted. 

“I don’t care, Jesper,” Jonas replied, though there was a smile on his face.

Jesper let out a huff. “You are so fake in front of him, I know you hate it.” 

Jonas only shrugged in response, which made Nico’s smile widen a little.

You tried not to gape at the three of them, but it was a little difficult. It wasn’t like you expected to be treated like an outcast—although, maybe you did—but you certainly weren’t expecting them to seem so…relaxed around you. 

The silence that usually filled the Rangers car was nowhere to be seen. The underlying tension between the boss and his men was non-existent. It almost felt like you were sitting in a car full of friends. Maybe even a family.

It was a little disconcerting. 

The second thing that caught your attention amongst everything else was the way they treated you.

You knew the expectations of a mob wife. You knew that arranged marriages, like yours and Nico’s, had been happening for decades now. You had seen many play out with your own eyes back with the Rangers, saw what was expected of these women who were thrown into new homes and lives for the sake of alliances, money and more. 

It wasn’t a surprise when Nico led you through the house, guiding you upstairs with a hand placed in the dip of your back. The shock came when he stopped suddenly outside a door, turning to you with an expectant look. 

“This is your room. I thought you would want to rest for tonight, maybe have some time to yourself,” Nico explained, polite and curt, like a true gentleman. “I can have some dinner sent up to you. And my office is just down the hall. Feel free to knock if you need anything.” 

You stared at him with a confused expression. 

Nico’s brows furrowed a little in response. “Sorry, is that okay? You look…lost.”

“You said your room,” you said, though the boy still looked a bit confused. “Instead of ours.”

“Oh,” Nico nodded, realisation dawning over his expression before he gave you a polite smile. “My room is the next one over.” 

Your eyes narrowed in suspicion. “We aren’t sharing a room?”

“We aren’t married,” he stated simply.

“Do you expect us to share a room after we are married?” You asked.

His expression remained impassive and unreadable. “If you wish so.” 

There was a small voice in the back of your head telling you he was being genuine, and yet, somehow, that only made your confusion grow. 

“Goodnight, Rogue,” was all Nico said before he headed down the hall, leaving you lost in your own thoughts and suspicions and mixed emotions.

You thought there was nothing less that the New Jersey Devils could do to catch you by surprise. And you were very wrong about that.

You had hardly slept the night before. There was something unsettling being away from the place you had called home your whole life. There was something even more unsettling knowing you were in enemy territory—even if you couldn’t really call it that anymore. There was just something unsettling about lying in a bed, knowing that you didn’t know a single soul beyond the door. 

And after tossing and turning, you had mostly given up by the time someone knocked on your door just after nine in the morning. 

You had almost expected that yesterday was the last you would see of Nico before he rushed off, hiding away in his office or meetings or whatever other excuses he could make to avoid you. You certainly weren’t expecting to find him on the other side of your door, a polite smile on his face once again.

“Good morning,” he greeted you, his hands tucked behind his back. The sun had barely been in the sky for a few hours and the man was dressed immaculately in a shirt and suit pants, looking far too put together. “Sleep well?” 

“Yes,” you lied, because it wasn’t exactly like you wanted to get into the details with your soon-to-be husband. “Can I help you?”

“Oh yes,” he cleared his throat a little, taking a step back and only then did you realise he wasn’t alone. The boy beside him was taller, a little skinnier too. With curly hair and a baby face, you would guess he was at least a couple of years younger than Nico. “This is Luke.” 

You glanced over the boy before your gaze returned to Nico. “Is he my babysitter?” 

Nico’s lips twitched upwards. “I was going to say bodyguard.”

“Semantics.” 

Luke cleared his throat a little, ducking his head down but not fast enough for you not to see the small smirk playing on his lips.

Nico straightened his spine before he spoke, his expression impassive again. “He can help you with whatever you need. And if he can’t, then he knows someone who can.”

“Let me guess,” you started, leaning against the door as you surveyed the older man with a knowing look. “He’s under strict orders to make sure I don’t run off?”

Nico’s brows furrowed together. “Of course not. If you wish to go out somewhere, Luke will accompany you.”

You could only blink in response. You felt as though you had been doing that a lot lately.

“Oh.” 

You didn’t remember what else Nico had said before he ran off, muttering something about a meeting and someone called Jack—the name familiar once again—blowing up his phone. Truthfully, you weren’t sure if it mattered. Everything in the last twenty-fours had thrown your life upside down, you didn’t think you could handle much more.

And then Luke turned to you with a shit-eating grin on his face and said, “wanna go get McDonald’s breakfast?” 

…

You had come to realise that despite his baby face and slight cartoonish laugh, Luke wasn’t as bad as you expected him to be.

Back in New York with the Rangers, you had crossed paths with your fair share of young and ambitious members. They were dedicated and strong-willed and determined to do anything to prove themselves to the cause, to prove themselves to their boss. They were willing to be ruthless, merciless and cold-hearted. 

New Jersey was very different. 

There was a strong lack of fear in the air, replaced with something more akin to encouragement. The boys here didn’t fear to make mistakes as badly as you had seen in the Rangers. They followed the rules and did what they were told because they wanted to, because they wanted to thrive. Not because they were scared of what would happen to them otherwise.

Truthfully, you didn’t know how you felt about it.

“Every week?”

“Every week,” Luke confirmed with a nod.

“Without fail?”

“Mhm,” he nodded once again.

“Everyone?”

“Usually,” Luke answered, pausing for a moment before he shrugged. “Unless someone has something else on. But nobody actively goes out of their way to miss it. Candy would kill them.”

You paused for a moment, your brows furrowed together as you tried to put a face to the name, only to come short. In your defence, though it had been close to a week since you arrived, most of your time had been spent with Luke. You would see people here and there, wandering around the house or passing by, and Luke would always try to inform you on who they were as best he could. But there were so many new names and new faces and new…everything to get used to.

You still felt like an outsider wandering the halls. 

You still felt pretty pissed that Trouba, or any of the Rangers back home for that matter, hadn’t tried reaching out to you.

You still felt very fucking confused on the fact you had yet to see Nico since the day he brought you to Jersey. It seemed as though he was hiding away to avoid you after all. 

“You’ll know her when you see her,” Luke informed you, seeming to pick up on the confusion on your face. “She’s the loud one in colourful clothes who has a guy resembling a lovesick puppy following her around.”

You raised your brows in question.

“Long story,” Luke snorted. “But where Candy goes, John follows.”

You nodded. “And John is…”

“Tall guy, dark curly hair, always silently brooding and judging people,” Luke listed off like it would help. “He kinda looks at you like he wants to kill you.” 

You let out a huff of amusement. “You sure he doesn’t just do that to you?”

Luke paused, almost as though he was having a revelation. 

Your lips twitched upwards. And then, because apparently you couldn’t keep a nice thing going, you found yourself asking, “are you even supposed to be telling me all this?”

He frowned. “What? That John is kinda emotionally constipated?” 

“I—” You paused, your nose scrunching up a little. “What? No. Just about everyone in general.”

Luke stared at you. “Why wouldn’t I tell you?”

“Information,” you replied with a shrug of your shoulders. 

“Anyone with two working eyes could see half the shit I tell you,” Luke retorted with a snort. “It’s hardly confidential information when I tell you what a pain in the ass Jack is. Or that Dawson goes through three bottles of shampoo in a month. Or that—”

“That you are scared of spiders?” You interrupted, something close to a teasing smile on your lips as you watched the boy scoff.

“I’m not!” He insisted. “That spider just caught me by surprise.”

“You screamed.”

“I wasn’t expecting to see it.” 

And even if you never said it to Luke, it was weird he was being so open with you about the members of the New Jersey Devils. Every piece of information—no matter how small or insignificant—could be used against you. It was a life motto, one ingrained into you when you grew up as a Ranger. It felt like a basic life rule everyone followed. 

At least, it did back in New York. 

In New Jersey, it seemed like the second you stepped foot onto their premise, they saw you as one of their own. And once you were one of their own, there were no secrets between you. Everyone knew everything about everyone—or at least, a general understanding. No one was shying away from each other, from you. 

You didn’t know how you felt about it, but it did make your heart pine for something familiar. For something that felt like home. 

And New Jersey would never be that. 

…

To your utter surprise, the next time you saw Nico was that following Sunday.

You weren’t naive to think he would be glued to your side, that much was confirmed when he ordered Luke to be your round-the-clock bodyguard. He wanted to keep an eye on you, he just didn’t want to be the person to do it. You were somewhat surprised he didn’t send one of the bigger guys—like Kevin or Kurtis—to be your bodyguard, someone to intimidate you. Though, you assumed he was probably saving them for more important jobs than a glorified babysitter. 

Your days had been blurring into one, and though you hadn’t spent much time in Jersey, it had felt like a lifetime.

Your life was stuck in routine and you had gotten pretty used to it by that point. 

Luke would be at your door by eight sharp, ready to get the day started. You would share every meal with him, though it varied whether you both bothered in the kitchen or went somewhere out to eat—Luke had been enjoying showing you various places around the city. But that was about as exciting as your days got. You might bump into some others, talk to them, get to know them.

But your days were boring, pointless and repetitive. 

The only slight change to your routine was Sunday. The unspoken but very relevant rule of every member attending the dinner, by your surprise, extended to you too. Luke had told you as much over breakfast, talking away about how Candy had been interrogating him on what dishes you would prefer. 

You had told him you didn’t care—because you didn’t and you had a feeling it would give him a harder time with Candy, which amused you. 

However, Luke had been frustratingly vague with the timings of everything. It wasn’t a big deal, considering you didn’t have much else on your plate to be worried about. But the limited wardrobe and Luke’s shrugged response when asked about the dress code for the dinner was turning out to be quite the issue.

It was somewhere just past seven when you heard three knocks on your door.

“I’m decent!” You called out, frowning at the few options hanging in your wardrobe. It was quite sad, to be honest. But you hadn’t had the chance to get everything transferred from your New York apartment, not that anyone from the Rangers seemed eager to offer their help. 

But instead of coming in like he usually did, Luke knocked again.

You frowned, turning to look at the door. “Just come in!”

The door remained shut.

“You’re so dramatic,” you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes as you made your way towards the door. You reached for the handle, fully prepared to see Luke on the other side with his face in his phone or even giving you a shit-eating grin like he knew he got under your skin. 

You were not expecting Nico to be standing on the other side.

“Oh.” You blinked. “I thought you were Luke.” 

Nico’s lips twitched. “I gave him the night off.” 

You raised your brows. “Oh?”

“There was a small change in plans.” Nico continued. “I thought I would escort you to dinner.”

“Escort me,” you repeated, something quite like amusement lacing your voice. “I didn’t realise these big dinners were so fancy. Should I change?” 

“We won’t be joining the others this week. I thought we could have dinner alone,” Nico corrected, his eyes watching you closely like he was inspecting your reaction. “If that is okay with you.” 

You tried to hide your surprise that he was giving you an option. A part of you wondered if it was a formality, something he phrased like an option but was really a command—something Jacob would do often. Yet, you couldn’t really find yourself imagining Nico was one of those people.

“Just the two of us?” You questioned.

Nico nodded before he spoke. “I thought it would be best for us to get to know each other.”

Your interest piqued but you didn’t show much as you nodded, telling him to give you a few more minutes before you joined him.

For the dinner itself, he led you away from the large dining room where you assumed the large group dinner was taking place. He didn’t say a word as you walked, seeming comfortable enough in the silence until you reached the room. 

And Nico played the part of a gentleman well. He opened the door and guided you in first. He pulled the chair out and waited for you to settle in your seat before he even made his way to his seat. He reached for the wine and filled your glass before even daring to touch his own.

You felt on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“You look tense.” 

You raised your brows. “Just what a woman wants to hear.”

Nico’s lips twitched. “I have a feeling that you wouldn’t care what people say about you.” 

“Your feeling would be correct.” 

“Your reputation precedes you,” he mused, leaning back against his chair with an ease only a man in power would have. 

You tilted your head. “And yet, you still agreed to marry me.” 

“Who said your reputation wasn’t what appealed to me the most?” Nico retorted, hiding the smirk on his lips as he took a sip from his wine glass. 

“I am sure whatever flowery promises Jacob added definitely sold it,” you commented, unable to hide the bite in your voice. 

Nico stared at you for a few moments before he spoke. “I do apologise.”

You raised your brows in questioning. 

“For blindsiding you that day,” Nico continued. “I was under the impression you were aware of the contract.” 

“Funnily enough, I was not informed my name had been thrown into a deal,” you replied, jaw clenching a little as the reminder of what Jacob had inserted you into washing over you. This was your home now, not New York. “Jacob knew better than to tell me.” 

“Well, if it’s any consolation, your name wasn’t officially included,” Nico added. 

You paused, a crease forming between your brows. “What do you mean?” 

“Just that the official agreement between the Devils and Rangers included me marrying someone but no names were included for technicality reasons,” Nico answered and it took everything in you to keep your face straight. 

Up until this point, you were under the impression that Jacob had practically thrown you into the deep end with no warning because your name was the one on the contract. You had seen it time and time again in arranged marriages, you had seen demands to be made because men felt entitled to certain women or dangled them in front of the enemy as a bargaining chip. 

If you were being completely honest, you had assumed that was what happened here. You had assumed back and forth negotiations had been made and Jacob had deemed you the best bargaining chip to get whatever he wanted from the Devils. The Rangers tended to be old school and traditional that way. 

It never occurred to you that you weren’t a part of this, that you didn’t need to be a part of it. 

“So, Jacob just offered me up to fill a spot?” You questioned, your voice remaining steady and calm as your mind swirled with a million thoughts.

Nico’s eyes glimmered with an unreadable emotion. “Something like that.”

Your heart was racing in your chest. “And any woman could be in my spot and the agreement would still remain?” 

“I guess so,” Nico stated, seeming like he wanted to say more but he remained quiet. 

“Interesting,” you commented, a plan already forming in your head as you reached for your glass. “You may have made a mistake, you know?” 

Nico’s lips twitched upwards. “What makes you say that?” 

“If this is to be my wedding, I want it to be absolutely perfect,” you said with a casual shrug of your shoulders, staring at the man across the table from you. “I refuse anything less.” 

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Nico mused before raising his glass in your direction. “Do as you please.” 

Your smile widened in response as you took a long sip from your glass. 

You were going to break Nico Hishcier and you were going to make sure he sent you running back to New York, if it was the last thing you did. 

And then, you would make Jacob Trouba regret even uttering your name into the stupid agreement. 

…

“It was targeted?” 

Jesper nodded, his face serious and shoulders tensed as he slid a copy of the official police report across the table towards Nico. “Last night,” he said with a heavy sigh. “They broke in, roughed the place up a little and then set it on fire. It didn’t seem like they found whatever they wanted so they burned the place down.” 

“Talk about dramatic,” Jack grumbled from his spot on the couch. 

Nico shot the younger boy a look before turning back to Jesper. “What did the police say?” 

“As much as you would expect,” the blond shrugged. “They don’t want to get involved if it’s dirty work.” 

Nico raised a brow. “And is it?” 

“You tell me,” Jesper shot back, his jaw clenching. “Did your best friend Trouba mention anything about his boys’ weekend plans to break into one of our warehouses?” 

“Bratter is feeling sassy,” Jack sang, snickering even when Jonas tried to jab him with his elbow to keep quiet.

“These attacks have been going on for months,” Jesper pointed out, his lips turned downwards in a frown. “And they aren’t going to stop until we retaliate.” 

“We don’t know who is behind it yet,” Nico retorted. 

“Of course we fucking do.” 

“Jesper,” Nico shot him a look. “I know you don’t like my agreement with Trouba but he wouldn’t break it. We signed the truce.” 

“It isn’t official until the wedding,” Jonas spoke up from his spot on the couch next to Jack. 

“Jacob Trouba is many things but stupid isn’t one of them,” Nico sighed, ignoring the ‘ehhhh’ Timo muttered out as he leaned back in his chair. “And it would be incredibly stupid to target the people you are trying to sign an alliance with.” 

“Still,” Jesper grumbled as he nodded at the police report. “One week earlier and half of our stock could have been up in flames.” 

Timo raised his brows. “You think someone knew?” 

“I think someone may be getting delayed information,” Jesper corrected.

“I want you and Timo investigating this,” Nico said as he tapped his finger on the file. “Dig out the reports from the other targeted attacks and—” 

RING! RING! RING!

Nico frowned a little as the shrill of his phone echoed through the room. He ignored the boys’ curious looks as he reached for it, answering the call and lifting it to his ear. “Nico Hischier speaking.” 

“Uh, Mr Hishcier, so sorry to bother you,” a mousy, timid voice spoke from the other side. “This is Jeff from the bank calling and—”

“Get on with it, Jeff,” Nico stated bluntly. 

“Right, yes. Uh, there has been a suspicious amount of transactions coming out of your bank today and we wanted to inform you in case you wished us to freeze the accounts or—” 

Nico tried to bite back his smile. “Where are these transactions coming from?” 

“The last one to go through was a purchase of four hundred thousand dollars for…flowers?” 

This time Nico actually let out a loud, boisterous laugh which caught both Jeff and the boys in his study off guard.

“What was the one before that?” Nico asked, clearly amused. 

“Three hundred dollars spent at…McDonalds.” 

“Keep letting them through,” Nico assured the man on the other side of the phone. “That’s just my fiancée having some fun.” 

“Oh. Right. Sorry, Mr Hischier, and congratulations!” 

Nico thanked the man before hanging up, throwing his phone back down on the desk before he turned his attention back to the meeting they were having. However, he seemed to pick up on the eerie silence and lifted his head to find all of the boys looking at him with various expressions painted across their faces. 

“Out with it then,” Nico said eventually. 

“Count on Nico bagging the most expensive fiancée in New York,” Timo teased, a shit-eating grin on his face.

But Nico just shrugged. “It’s her wedding day. She wants it to be perfect.” 

“Even if it leaves you bankrupt,” Jonas snorted.

“As long as she’s happy,” Nico answered, sincere in his words. 

“If only Trouba knew how whipped you were for his girl, he would have never agreed to the deal,” Jack commented, raising his hands in mock surrender when Nico turned to glare at him.

“She’s not Trouba’s girl,” Nico gritted out. 

“Yikes, Boss has claws.” 

“Anyone with a pair of eyes can see how whipped Nico is,” Jesper commented with a huff of laughter. “Trouba is, in fact, stupid if he didn’t notice. Now, can we please get back to the main problem before he starts singing limericks.” 

Nico frowned. “Hey—” 

“My money is on the Sabres being involved!” 

“As if they even know how to light a match.” 

…

“You look like you have had a busy day.” 

You turned your head to find Nico standing in the door entrance, leaning against the frame as his eyes wandered over the dozens of bags in your room. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his sleeves were rolled to his elbows and a few strands of hair were falling into his face. It almost annoyed you that this was the most dishevelled you had seen him and he still looked so good and put-together.

“I decided to take it slow,” you answered casually, turning back around before you could see the smile tugging on his lips. “I didn’t want to scare Luke off too soon.” 

“The boy is tougher than he looks,” Nico commented. “I am sure he can handle whatever you throw at him.”

Your lips twitched. “You weren’t the one listening to him whine about carrying a couple of bags.”

“A couple is an understatement,” Nico mused. “He’s still unpacking the car with Dawson’s help.” 

You glanced over your shoulder, something victorious and smug shining in your eyes. “Is there a problem with that?”

Nico flashed you a smile. “My money is your money. My boys are your boys. Knock yourself out, schatz.”

You blinked, his words barely processing in your head before you realised he had already begun walking away. You glanced down at the countless bags littering your bedroom floor, most of them useless purchases you picked up to push the balance higher. 

And yet, Nico just walked away without a care in the world. 

…

“I really wouldn’t recommend this.” 

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not listening to you.” 

“Rogue—” 

You rolled your eyes, listening to the satisfying clicks of your heels against the floor as you made your way down the corridor. “He’s my fiancé.” 

“He is in a meeting,” Luke shot back. “He doesn't like being interrupted. Not even by us.” 

“I’m not you,” you retorted, almost hearing the eye roll from the younger boy following behind you. “And I don’t care if he is in a meeting, he can make time for me.”

“That’s not how it works,” Luke muttered under his breath.

“It is now.” 

“God, I’m going to have to plan a funeral.” 

You ignored the boy’s last feeble attempts to stop you from going through with it—or to at least knock on the door—but it was hopeless as you reached Nico’s study, hand on the knob and opening the door before Luke could even think to pull you back. Or throw you over his shoulder and run back down the corridor. 

The room fell silent as you stood in the doorway. 

You didn’t recognise the men sitting across from Nico at the large desk. They were old and burly and quite literally looked like characters out of Sopranos. They turned to face you, eyebrows furrowed and lips turned downwards at the interruption. 

You smiled in response. 

“What’s the meaning of this?” One of them spoke, the Jersey accent strong and thick and coating his words generously. “We’re doin’ business here, sweetheart. Bounce!” 

You glanced at the man, unfazed before you turned your gaze towards Nico who was watching you with interested eyes. “I need to talk to you.” 

“We are busy here, lady, can’t you see?” The other man spoke, huffing and puffing in his seat and it took everything inside you not to roll your eyes at his tantrum. 

“And now I’m busy with him,” you stated simply, arms crossed over your chest as you stepped further into the room. “Scram. You are done here.” 

The first man huffed, puffing his chest out as he opened his mouth to say something but Nico cut him off. 

“Go.” 

Both men turned to Nico, angry and outraged. “You cannot be serious?!” 

“Go,” Nico repeated himself, a little more firmly this time. 

The men were smart enough not to test Nico’s patience any further, rushing out the room with their tails between their legs as they did. It almost made you smile the way they avoided your gaze as they did so. You heard Luke let out a sigh behind you, muttering something under his breath as he followed the other men out and closed the door behind him. 

“You’ve intrigued me,” Nico spoke up, leaning back against his chair. “What could possibly be so important that you needed to discuss it with me?” 

You grinned as you lifted the folders in your hand. “Wedding venues.”

Nico blinked. “Wedding venues?” 

“Wedding venues,” you repeated, your eyes eagerly watching every inch of his face for a reaction. 

It took years of training to school your features as Nico nodded you over, still relaxed in his chair as he smiled back at you. Back in New York, a move like this would’ve gotten you killed and yet here—

“Show me,” he replied. 

Your eyes stayed on his face, waiting for a slip up as you walked towards his desk. You rounded the piece of furniture, pushing the boundary a little bit more as you hopped up on the desk and placed the folder down beside you rather than handing it to him. 

“Comfortable?” He asked, his voice almost sounding playful as he reached for the folder. 

“I’ve sat on more comfortable desks,” you commented offhandedly. 

His eyes darkened a little at that. But before you could even bring yourself to comment on it, he was already opening the folder and scanning through the options. 

They were obscene, if you were completely honest. They were tacky and loud and far from a place you would even step foot in, let alone have your wedding in. But they were expensive—so expensive that it would send a normal man into cardiac arrest to see the numbers beside each venue. 

Then again, Nico Hischier wasn’t a normal man. 

“Which one would make you happiest?” He eventually asked, lifting his head to look at you expectantly. 

Your eyes narrowed. “Are you that incapable of making a decision, Hischier?” 

His lips twitched. “And if I say I just want you happy?”

“I would say that is a weak man’s response,” you replied, lifting your chin a little. It was a testy comment to make, not one that many men in power would take lightly. 

To your shock, Nico just laughed. “Then I say pick the church.” 

You raised your brows a little—the church was the most expensive option on the list. 

“Do you disagree?” Nico followed up, watching the way you stared at him with an odd look in your eyes.

“No,” you said as you took the folder from him. “The church will do.”

“Is that all?” Nico asked, something in his voice that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It was like he was eager, whether that was for you to leave or stay, you couldn’t quite work out.

“Yes,” you answered, though you made no move to slide off the desk just yet. “Seeing as I have nothing else to do in this place. Just a sweet, complying fiancée doing her duties and planning a wedding.” 

Nico’s eyes glimmered in interest. “Sweet sums you up pretty well, no?” 

Your eyes narrowed in a glare. 

“I mean, by all means, take the honeymoon planning off my hands if that is what you want,” Nico continued, shifting a bit closer so your foot was nudging his thigh. You were almost distracted by the casual drop of information about the honeymoon he was apparently planning.

“You’re mocking me,” you stated bluntly.

“A little,” he mused.

“You know my reputation,” you added. “Surely you knew what kind of wife I would be.”

“I had my guesses,” Nico confirmed with a nod.

“And yet, here we are.” 

“Here we are indeed,” Nico grinned. “Do you want to reserve the venue or shall I?”

It was safe to say Luke steered clear of you for the rest of the day following your mood after you left Nico’s study.

…

“You don’t get it,” Luke huffed, fingers tapping along the wheel. “This is the best bakery on the east coast, maybe even the whole country!”

You raised your brows. “Is that so?”

“Just wait until you try Peter’s strawberry tarts,” Luke insisted, so serious that it took everything inside you to not snort. “It’s like…heaven in your mouth.” 

“Peter is just that good, huh?” You mused.

“You’re teasing me now but you will be wanting the guy to make your wedding cake after you try some of his desserts,” Luke stated confidently. 

You had no real plan for today other than the desperate need to get out of the house. You were bored out of your mind and Luke was not too far behind, considering you spent almost every waking hour with the boy. It had been an offhand comment about wanting something sweet that made the boy grab your hand and drag you out of the house.

Luke was adamant that Peter’s Bakery in Hoboken was the best bakery in the state. You had been content to just sit in the passenger seat and let the younger boy ramble on about how all the Devils frequented there, that Candy was known to visit once a week, that Jack tended to hide out there after a particularly bad day. 

It was endearing to hear about the place. 

It was even more endearing that Luke trusted you enough to take you there, even if you wouldn’t dare to admit that out loud.

“Pete?” 

“One sec!” 

Luke glanced at you over his shoulder, grinning wider than you had ever seen before turning back to the counter. A few moments passed before a man walked out: brown hair, average build, a little mousy looking. And the apron covered in flour truly added to the baker charm.

“Moose,” the boy greeted with a large smile. “What can I get for my second favourite Hughes?” 

Luke rolled his eyes but began listing off far too many pastries and sweet treats for two people to enjoy. 

Five minutes later, you found yourself sitting across from the boy in a booth with a large variety of baked goods laid out on the table in front of you. It was borderline overwhelming and intense but you didn’t have the heart to stop Luke from ordering so much when he kept insisting on all the classics you had to try.

“So,” you began as the boy pushed a slice of apple pie towards you. “Moose?” 

“It’s an old nickname,” Luke answered with a halfhearted shrug. 

You raised a brow. “How old?”

Luke’s lips twitched. “Peter is an old friend of mine and Jack’s. He…he’s been there for us through a lot.” 

“Because our line of business crosses paths with bakers so often,” you mused, lighthearted and playful. You could tell the words were heavier than he was letting on but you didn’t have the heart to start poking at old wounds. Not today.

Luke snorted. “Nah, he needed to lay low after some close calls. He made some deal with Nico. Boss offers him protection, he offers the best apple pie you will ever have in your entire life.”

You shot a glance towards the other boy, working away behind the counter with a sense of ease that told you he was comfortable, that he felt safe even being so out in the open and exposed to the public. It wasn’t something you saw often in this industry when people had a target on their back. 

“He did?” You asked, your voice a little softer than before. 

“He’s a good guy, you know,” Luke murmured in response, watching your expression closely. 

“He has a reputation for being fair,” you commented absentmindedly. “Which is a load of bullshit when it comes to our work.” 

“Not with Nico,” Luke retorted. “He is harsh when he needs to be. But he is understanding. He gets it.”

“Hm,” was all you could respond with, your mind spiralling with a million different stories of men in power that exploited and corrupted the world around them in the greedy hunt for more. You had seen men crumble under that desire, you had seen them sacrifice their lives and loved ones to get what they want. 

You couldn’t imagine someone having all that power and not being corrupted by it. 

“Hey,” Luke whined, all youngest child like, as he lightly kicked your shin under the table. “Stop procrastinating and try the pie!” 

You rolled your eyes, making a show of grabbing the fork and cutting off a good sized chunk before shovelling it in your mouth.

Luke looked at you expectantly. “So?” 

“It’s good.” 

He blinked before frowning. “Just good? Are your taste buds broken?” 

“Fine, it’s very good,” you corrected with a small smile on your lips. “But it’s not the best apple pie I have ever had.” 

Luke raised his brows. “Oh yeah? And where was that?” 

“Tony’s Tiny Bakery,” you shot back, watching as the boy huffed across from you. “It was around the corner from this cute Italian place that did amazing garlic bread too. I’ll have to take you one day, it’s only—” 

And then you paused. 

And it was stupid to say when you had quite literally spent the better part of the last few weeks in your new home, when you had been coming up to the three month mark in New Jersey. But it hit you that you would never see New York again, not in the way you had growing up. 

You were a New Jersey Devil now. You had a new home and new territory. You had a new family you were supposed to be accepting. You weren’t able to step back in the city you grew up in, not without direct permission from the people you used to call your family. 

You had been so pissed that day when Jacob had thrown you into the deep end of an arranged marriage you had never known about that you wanted to get him back, you wanted to hit him where it hurt and have one last act of defiance. You had walked away from New York with no proper goodbye because you knew it wasn’t what he wanted. 

And truthfully, it wasn’t what you wanted either. 

You never got the chance to say goodbye to such a large part of your life and identity. You never got the chance to say goodbye to the people who raised you and the people you grew up with. You never got the chance to visit your favourite places in New York with the freedom of being a Ranger before you jumped ship. 

It never really hit you that you missed New York as much as you did.

“I get it.” 

You almost jumped in your seat when you felt a hand over your own, when you blinked away the tears welling up in your eyes to find Luke smiling fondly from the other side of the booth. You tried to pull your hand away and pretend everything was okay, but the boy tightened his hold on you.

“I know what it’s like to leave the only place you called home,” Luke murmured, his voice soft but thick with emotion. “It gets easier.” 

You nodded, swallowing the ball in the back of your throat before you flashed him a small smile. “This apple pie is pretty damn good.” 

Luke’s smile widened. “Of course it is. I don’t mess around when it comes to food, Rogue. Catch up.” 

You let out a small but genuine laugh in response. 

…

“How quickly can you get dressed?” 

Your eyes wandered over your magazine page towards the boy standing at the bottom of the couch you were currently laying on. He was dressed in his usual attire—the shirt, dress pants and nice shoes that probably cost more than the average man’s monthly salary—and raised your brows. 

“Depends,” you answered as you lowered the magazine you were halfheartedly reading to rest on your stomach. “Get dressed as in ‘we are walking around the park’ or ‘we are about to go to a gala’?” 

Nico smiled a little. “More ‘wear something that is comfortable and easy to carry guns on you’.”

Now that caught your attention.

You sat up on the couch, the magazine abandoned on the pillow beside you as you stared at the boy with interest. “You’re taking me on a job?” 

“I was hoping to use your expertise for something,” Nico said with gentle but watchful eyes. “Are you in?” 

“Give me fifteen minutes,” was all you responded with before walking past the boy and towards your bedroom.

Less than thirty minutes later, you found yourself slipping out of Nico’s car and looking at the absolute mess in front of you with raised brows, a low whistle of surprise leaving your lips as you took in the damaged property. 

“And this was done recently?” 

“Two weeks ago,” Nico confirmed with a nod, frowning at the warehouse with a look of frustration and annoyance. “Third warehouse chosen. Fourth targeted attack.” 

You glanced at him. “What was the other?” 

“A person,” Nico frowned. “We were lucky that their plan failed, which is why I assume they began to target buildings instead.”

“Coward move,” you frowned, choosing to ignore the way Nico snorted a little at your response. “What did the warehouse hold?” 

“Just some of our basic exports,” Nico shrugged.

Your eyes widened a little.

He frowned. “What?” 

“Nothing,” you shrugged, clearly your throat a little. “Just a little surprised you told me, to be honest. I thought you would have given some weird elusive answer.” 

His frown deepened a little. “Why would I do that?” 

“Because I’m a glorified stranger,” you retorted like it was obvious. 

“You’re my fiancée,” Nico corrected, his voice still serious and sincere as he spoke. “What’s mine is yours.” 

You swallowed a little at his intensity. “So this mess is mine too?” 

“Just like everything else I own,” he said with a nod. “And as much as is your right to be here as my fiancée, I also brought you because you’re smart. Because you know how to get in people’s heads. Because you’ll be able to spot things neither me nor the others will see.” 

“Trouba’s favourite tool,” you deadpanned.

“You’re your own person here, Rogue,” Nico assured you, something else written in his expression that you couldn’t quite read. “It’s something you should get used to. You’re a Devil now.”

You didn’t get much of a chance to reply before he wandered towards the desolate warehouse, footsteps crunching with every step he took whilst you were left slightly baffled by the enigma that was Nico Hischier. 

…

“So, is she in love with you yet?” 

Nico shot Jack a look. 

“Because from what Luke’s told me, she has been doing everything under the sun to piss you off. And I’m no expert in love but that doesn’t seem like something someone in love would do,” Jack continued as he settled happily on the couch in Nico’s study—one of his favourite spots.

“Did I not give you a job?” Nico asked bluntly, leaning back in his chair and sighing. He knew there was no point of attempting to do any more work whilst the younger boy was in the room.

“Yeah but we both know I’ll get to it eventually,” he waved the older man off, his hands tucked behind his head as he lounged back on the comfy couch. “This is far more entertaining.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nico sniffed. 

“I have seen you shoot a man between his eyes without a second thought,” Jack mused, the glee in his voice unmissable as he continued to tease the older man. “And yet, I watched you have a full breakdown to Dougie on whether or not your fiancée would prefer your hair slick back or product free on the off chance you bumped into her that day.” 

“I like to make a good impression,” Nico retorted. 

“You’re trying to seduce her and failing miserably,” Jack shot back.

“She is my fiancée,” Nico huffed out. 

“She is the girl you have been downright obsessed with since she knocked you on your ass four years ago,” Jack corrected. “And she doesn’t even remember.” 

“I was undercover,” Nico defended. “Pally hardly recognised me that day, too.��

“Are you listening to yourself, Hisch?” Jack questioned, his brows raised in amusement. “This is getting a little pathetic.” 

Nico let out a heavy sigh, raising his hand towards Jack for him to continue. “Okay then, what do you suggest?” 

“Less mind games and playing the elusive mob boss character you’ve been trying out,” Jack answered, his voice a hint softer than before and it caught him off guard, “Be Nico—the real version.” 

“That was very High School Musical of you,” Nico teased. 

“I knew it was a bad idea letting you watch those movies,” Jack playfully groaned but he was grinning back. “I take it back, put the scary mob boss face back on. She is gonna laugh you back to Switzerland if you quote that shit to her.”

“She could be a fan,” Nico pointed out.

But Jack just shot him a look. “I know you’re blinded by love and all that jazz, but even you have to know that is a load of bullshit.”

“Go do you work now, Jack.” 

The younger boy gave him a mock salute. “On it, Boss.” 

…

In your mind, the plan was full proof, effective and successful. 

In reality, it was a form of torture that didn’t have the results you wanted and instead left your brain scrambled on whether you really wanted it to work or not.

When you stepped out of that meeting room months ago, you were under the impression you were stuck in this arranged marriage with Nico Hishcier. A week later, you thought you had a loophole and a clear path back to New York and the life you had. 

Instead, you were laying in your bed and reeling that although you may not be the typical mob wife, Nico Hishcier was far from the typical mob boss. And it was completely fucking with your plan. 

And maybe you weren’t fully ready to admit it but it was fucking with your desire to go back home too—if New York even felt like home anymore. New Jersey was a breath of fresh air that you never knew you needed, that you never knew you wanted. 

The Rangers may have been your family once upon a time, but the Devils felt more like the word than the former ever had. You felt like you were watching the family of them through a window, and you were starting to realise maybe being on the inside wouldn’t be so bad as you thought. Maybe being in a place where they valued and listened to you wouldn’t be so bad either. 

But New York was all you ever knew, was all you ever thrived in. It was hard to just throw that all away. 

Even if Nico Hischier was making the option of staying very appealing. 

Even when some of the other Devils—the ones that weren’t your biggest fans—felt more welcoming than the boys back in New York. 

Exhibit A: Jesper Bratt. 

Nico had pulled Luke out for the day, saying he needed the boy’s help with a different job. He hadn’t offered to put anyone in Luke’s place. To be honest, you think Luke was only continuing with it because he enjoyed spending time with you too. But it had been Jesper who offered himself into Luke’s role when you had mentioned visiting a few shops in town by yourself. 

It didn’t take a genius to work out he was suspicious of you.

You didn’t take it to heart, not really. He wasn’t going out of his way to make you uncomfortable or wary, but the lingering tension was enough to make you observe him with the same watchful gaze. 

“You don’t like me.” 

Jesper’s eyes flickered to meet yours in the rearview mirror before returning to the road. “I never said that.” 

“You didn’t have to,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “It’s written all over your face. And the extra gun you slipped into your waistband before we left.” 

His cheeks burned a little at your words. 

“It’s fine,” you assured him. “You’re his second-in-command. It’s your job to be wary, to have Nico’s back.” 

Jesper hummed but didn’t say anything right away. 

Instead, a few minutes of silence passed as you two made your way through usual Jersey traffic. The radio was on, but turned on so low that the two of you could barely hear it. The streets were busy, even for a random Thursday afternoon. It was like the world was going on as normal, despite the lingering tension in the car between you and the blond.

“I do like you,” Jesper said eventually. “I just don’t trust you.” 

“Because you think I’m going to betray the Devils?” You guessed. 

“Because I think you are capable of hurting Nico far worse than a gunshot or a knife in the back ever could,” Jesper corrected, seeming to catch the surprise on your face.

“You think I would hurt him?” You questioned, ignoring the way your stomach twisted at the words. Growing up in this life had meant you had seen far worse than a gunshot or a knife in the back, had meant you had done much worse. And yet the idea of any of it being directed towards Nico seemed to leave you on edge and make the hairs on the back of your neck rise.

“I think you are capable of a lot without even realising it,” Jesper answered honestly. 

You didn’t reply to the blond but you wondered if your return to New York would hurt Nico. 

You wondered why it made your chest feel tight and uncomfortable. 

…

“So how did you get the nickname?” 

You blinked out of your thoughts, looking over at Luke who was walking by your side. “What?” 

“Rogue,” he said with a nod, like that was enough of an explanation. “Nicknames stick in this industry. So, where did you…go rogue to get it?”

You let out a small snort of laughter. “How do you not know it’s my actual name?” 

Luke glanced at you, his brows furrowed together. “Is it?” 

“No,” you grinned at him before shrugging. “I don’t know, to be honest. I just…never did well with listening to people’s instructions. It was a nickname my father gave me and I guess it just stuck.” 

“You listened when Trouba sent you here though,” Luke pointed out, unfazed by the glare you sent his way. You assumed that was bound to happen after you spent almost every day with the boy for the last few months or so. He was bound to feel comfortable enough to poke at the uncomfortable subjects.

“Because I’m stubborn not stupid,” you shot back, giving the boy a look. “I value my life.” 

Luke frowned. “You think he would’ve killed you if you didn’t comply?” 

“He’s killed people for less,” you shrugged but noted the way the boy still looked uncomfortable, unsettled even. “He wouldn’t have killed me. I’m too valuable, even if I’m disrespecting him. He probably would’ve just put me on some really shit jobs until his ego was healed.” 

Luke nodded, still looking quite on edge. 

“Luke,” you stopped walking, placing your hand on his arm to catch his attention and make him stop too. Logically, you knew that he was a grown man and he could handle his own emotions. Especially in an industry like this. But another part of you—the part that had spent the last few months with the boy almost every day—felt the need to wipe that frown off his face. “It’s fine now. And it doesn’t matter.” 

“Does it not?” Luke shot back at you. “You’ve been trying your hardest to find a loophole out of here, have you not? But you still want to go back there? Back to him? Even after everything he’s done to you?”

You blinked. 

“I’m young but I’m not stupid,” Luke huffed out, shaking his head as he took a step back. “It’s—whatever. Let’s just go. You said you wanted to check out that shoe store?” 

You took a step forward. “Luke—”

“We should head over now before heading back to the house. We—” He paused before continuing. “I don’t want to be late for dinner.”

…

You didn’t see Luke over the next few days. 

He had sent a brief message about being busy wrapped up in a job Nico gave him, which albeit wasn’t the best excuse but you let him off. You weren’t sure what upset him and you didn’t think poking around and asking more questions would do any favours. So, you let the boy take his space and take his time. 

It was Luke. 

You had no doubts that he would talk to you again when he wasn’t as worked up or upset about the situation. 

But the lack of daily companion left you feeling quite lonely, which was ironic considering you had considered your whole stay in New Jersey to be quite lonely as an outcast. You hadn’t realised just how much you relied on Luke’s company until he wasn’t knocking on your door every morning, convincing you to try some new outrageously overpriced cafe using Nico’s card to pay. 

You broke around the third day, deciding to seek out your own company in the form of your fiancé.

“I was told you would be here.” 

Nico lifted his head, peeking out from under the hood of the car he was currently hunched over. He glanced at you, an expression between surprised and elated as you stood on the opposite side of the garage.

“Is that so?” 

“Mhm,” you nodded, glancing around the large garage with eagle eyes. “Apparently this is how you spend your limited free time.”

Nico stood up straight, giving you a full look at the white tank top clinging onto his torso. It was criminal the way wiped his hands on a random rag, his biceps clenching with the movement before he tossed it to the side and gave you his full attention.

“I like fixing up old cars,” Nico said with a shrug, though there was a sense of ease in his posture. “It’s relaxing.” 

You blinked. “Tinkering around with some old metal is calming? Even if you can’t get it running?”

He laughed. “It takes my mind off things.” 

“How…mundane,” you responded, your brows furrowed together as you glanced at the few cars dotted around the garage. You didn’t know enough to know the brands or names of any of them. You didn’t even try to attempt it. 

“Mundane is nice sometimes, especially with the lives we live,” Nico retorted and you were inclined to agree. 

“This still seems stressful though,” you added. 

Nico leaned against the car, arms crossed over his chest like he knew it would snag your gaze. “And what would you recommend I do?” 

“I don’t know, something normal people do to relax,” you shrugged your shoulders. “Like, go on a picnic.” 

Nico paused, staring at you as he tried to fight the grin off his face. “A picnic?” 

“I don’t know!” You threw your hands up in mock surrender. “People do it all the time in movies and shit.”

“What movies are you watching?” Nico laughed, though he seemed to enjoy watching the way you tried to hold back your own amusement. 

“They have picnics in plenty of movies,” you argued back. 

“Alright then,” Nico nodded. “Then we will do it. You and me, tomorrow at twelve.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

“We are gonna have a picnic and be normal,” Nico stated, leaving no room for questions as he reached for the rag once again. “Unless you have some super normal thing you do to take your mind off things to do instead?” 

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Shooting range.”

“That’s what I thought,” he snorted as he flashed you a grin. “Me and you, schatz, at twelve. Don’t be late.” 

…

A small part of you thought Nico was joking about the picnic. 

A larger part of you knew the boy would be knocking on your door by half past eleven, dressed in a pair of jeans and a hoodie and looking so normal. So unlike the mob boss you know him to be. 

And the white bucket hat on his head was oddly endearing. 

In complete honesty, you hadn’t expected much from the picnic and how seriously the boy would take it. Though, you should have known better when he parked his car, an excited smile on his face as he led you towards the grassy patch in the park where a blanket and wicker basket had been laid out. 

“Oh wow,” you murmured out as you walked towards the scene, his palm warm and guiding on the small of your back. 

“Really fits the movie vibes, huh?” Nico retorted with a knowing smile.

You snorted. “I feel so normal right now.”

“Then my job here is done,” he smiled as he leaned back on the blanket, balanced on his elbows as he looked up at you. 

You were surprised how far he ran with a passive comment. You wondered what it must have looked like to people passing by the two of you, if you looked like a normal couple on a date, enjoying a sweet picnic together. You wondered if it even counted as a date at all. 

It was ironic that the man beside you had been your fiancé for the better part of the last four months and you didn’t know much about him, that neither of you knew each other all that well. 

“What’s your favourite colour?” 

Nico paused, looking up from the small plates he was loading up for the two of you. “My favourite colour?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded. 

“Red.”

“Favourite kind of music?” 

“Swiss rap.” 

“Favourite animal?” 

“I don’t think I have one.” 

“Cat person or dog person?” 

“Both.” 

Your nose scrunched up. “You can’t be both. That’s cheating.” 

Nico raised his brows in amusement. “I don’t think I can cheat at a game I don’t know.” 

“Just wanted to know what kind of man I am marrying,” you replied with a shrug of your shoulders. 

“Is there where you tell me that being a cat person is your deal breaker?” Nico joked.

Your lips twitched. “It would be something I would have to take into consideration.” 

“Might have to keep some secrets to save my marriage then,” Nico said with a sigh, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he smiled. You don’t think you had ever noticed that before. It was weird seeing someone in his position show any emotion but intimidation so easily. 

You raised your brows. “Doesn’t everyone have a few skeletons in the closet?” 

“Is this your subtle way of asking me what mine are?” He questioned, pushing the plate towards you. You were surprised to find a few of your favourite snacks on the plate. You wondered if he had bothered Luke or someone else to find out, or if it was a lucky guess.

“Would you tell me if I asked?” You shot back.

“I would tell you anything if you asked,” Nico replied, the playfulness replaced by sincerity that made your brain spiral a little.

“You know,” you tried to laugh it off. “I don’t think many people in this life agree with you there.”

“I’m not them and you’re not their fiancée,” he answered with a shrug. “Who gives a fuck what they think?” 

You looked at him with a mixed expression. “And you’d answer anything I ask you right now?”

He gestured for you to continue. “Try me.”

You tilted your head, taking a few moments to contemplate before you spoke. “Did you know I was going to be the one waiting for you in that room?” 

“I did,” he confirmed with a nod.

“And you had no issues with that?” 

His lips twitched. “Quite the opposite.” 

You shot him a curious look. “And if Jacob had lied to you? If there was someone else in the room?”

“I would have refused the alliance,” he stated simply, like he was reiterating a well-known fact.

You snorted. “Yeah, okay.” 

“I would have,” Nico insisted, his expression remaining dead serious.

Your smile faltered a little. “Nico.” 

“Rogue,” he mocked in the same tone of voice.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” you murmured.

Nico frowned. “Who said I was lying?” 

“You would have refused an alliance that would massively benefit you?” You retorted, your brows furrowed a little. “Don’t be stupid.” 

“Both sides went into that alliance wanting something,” Nico answered with a heavy look in his eyes, one that you couldn’t quite read. “I knew what I wanted and I wasn’t signing shit for anything but that.” 

“And that was me?” You teased because the conversation was getting serious and your heart felt like it was in your throat and you were pretty sure you would lose your mind if Nico kept staring at you with those intense eyes. You were also pretty sure you would lose your mind if he looked away.

“Yes.” 

You blinked, waiting for him to laugh but he didn’t. 

“What?”

“I think you heard me clearly enough the first time,” Nico mused, watching the way a million emotions passed over your face.

“Oh,” was the only response you could come up with. 

“Still don’t believe me?” Nico questioned, something like amusement in his voice. Something quite like a challenge too. Like he was expecting you to call him out on it, like he had been waiting for the chance to prove himself.

“And if I don’t?” You murmured, a little more breathless than you intended.

You watched as his eyes dropped to your lips, lingering for a few moments. “Then I’ll find a way to prove it.” 

You opened your mouth to say something, though you weren’t even sure what. You didn’t know if you were going to beg for him to do it, to prove it. You didn’t know if you were going to tell him to stop playing whatever game he was playing. You didn’t know if you were going to tell him to fuck the vague, elusive chat and to just fucking kiss you already. 

You were pretty sure it was most likely going to be the last option.

But you never got the chance to even utter a word before the loud, high-pitched shrill of a phone broke the moment.

You blinked, quickly glancing away and taking a few moments to ground yourself as Nico quickly sat up on the blanket. He patted his pockets before slipping his phone out, answering it with a slight peeved off look on his face.

However, that quickly changed when the person on the other side of the phone began speaking, the words muffled but the urgent tone was clear even to you.

It took less than a few seconds before Nico was scrambling to get up, abandoning the basket and blanket before he nodded for you to get up too. His hand was a little more pushy as he directed you towards his car, his face serious and almost murderous as he quickly got in the car, racing to turn it on.

“It’s Jack,” was all Nico could mutter out for context before the two of you were racing towards the house.

.

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ slip of the tongue ] n. hischier

paring : Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : after a Devils win, Nico gets interviewed in the locker room after scoring his first NHL hatty. he slips up in front of the cameras and mentions his girlfriend for the first time. it doesn't stop her from showing Nico how proud she is of him though ...

warning(s) : smut ! p in v protected sex, oral (m receiving), pet names during sex, language throughout. possibly wrongly translated german (i'm learning)

author’s note : this plot has been in my head for a while so here i am. pls just indulge me w this bc i was having a moment while writing it

18+ below the cut ! MINORS DNI

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(Y/N) swears she won't have a voice come the morning.

As soon as the puck went into the net and the goal horn went off for the third time, she's been screaming in the suite with the other Devils wives and girlfriends. Her boyfriend just scored his first NHL hat trick and she couldn't be prouder of him. They're now up 5-2 on the Sabres with less than a minute left in the game.

Jack and Dawson have a goal each along with Nico's three goals. It's a four-point night for her captain boyfriend since he got an assist on Jack's power play goal. She remains standing until the final horn that signals the game is over. The Rock is buzzing as the Devils give Vitek some goalie hugs.

She records when Nico is announced as the first star of the game for his four-point night. The crowd cheers as loud as they did when Nico scored the hat trick. Her lips hurt from smiling for nearly ten minutes straight.

As soon as Nico skates off the ice, (Y/N) makes her way down to the players' lounge room that the wives and girlfriends usually hang out in before and after the game. She hangs out with Vitek and Erik's wives as she waits for the players to come in after they've changed and showered.

Notifications start coming through about a half hour after going to the players' lounge. A lot of notifications. New followers, lots of likes and comments on Instagram. A lot of mentions on Twitter. She has no idea what's going on.

(Y/N) reads one tweet that's in her mentions that has a clip attached to it.

vina @/hischiers i knew there were rumors but nico hard launching his relationship after the game was not something i expected to happen today of all days

She clicks on the clip of Nico in his postgame interview and watches it.

Amanda Stein asks off camera, "Did you have any friends or family present for the game today to witness your first NHL hat trick?"

Nico doesn't hesitate to reply, "My girlfriend came to her first Devils home game today." He smiles and bites his bottom lip. "Yeah, she, uh, this game was really special for me because she's here and she got to witness my first hat trick in person." He blushes and doesn't stop smiling in the clip.

"Oh my God," (Y/N) gasps as the clip restarts.

They never talked about going public with their relationship. They've been dating for about seven months. Nico is one of hockey's most popular players, and (Y/N) has seen how loved he is among the fans. She's basically a no one from Newark dating the captain of a hockey team in the NHL.

The players begin to make their way into the lounge area. They make their way to their wife or girlfriend or really whoever they invited to the game. Her eyes are on the door as she waits for Nico to come in.

Jack and Luke walk into the room with Nico five minutes after the rest of the team does. They're deep in conversation but she can't help but run over to her boyfriend and basically jump into his arms.

Both Hughes boys both laugh as Nico catches her and she wraps herself around him completely. He wraps his arms around her torso so she doesn't fall.

"Congratulations, baby," she says against his hair. It's still damp so he recently showered. "I'm so proud of you."

"Guess you're my good luck charm," he laughs in reply. (Y/N) pulls back so she can see his face and he looks genuinely happy. "I play a lot better when you're in attendance."

She shakes her head and smiles. "I think that's bullshit," she tells him. "There's a reason you're one of the league's best players since you came back from your injury. It's not because of me."

"I think you should come to more games anyway," Nico says. "Clearly I like when you come to games."

(Y/N) laughs and rests her hands where Nico's shoulders meet his neck. "I'll come to games whenever you want," she replies. "You like to show off when I come."

He smiles and nods. "I gotta show off for my girlfriend," he retorts. "Especially when she looks so good in my jersey."

"Flatterer," she laughs before she leans down and captures his lips in a soft kiss. Nico laughs into the next kiss before she pulls back and looks at him. "By the way, did you know you told the entire league and it's fans that you have a girlfriend during your postgame interview?"

"You saw?"

"It's all over social media, Nico. People are saying you hard launched our relationship."

She lets her legs drop and Nico lowers her to the ground. "There were rumors anyway," he replies. "It was bound to come out. Did it bother you? It just kind of came out when I was asked and I wasn't really thinking about the fact that we never talked about it."

"I just would've liked a little heads up," she tells him with a smile on her face. "Are you ready to go?"

He nods and begins to make the rounds to say goodbye to the Devils. She never lets go of his hand as he says goodbye to his teammates. It's his job as captain to tell the team how good they did so he doesn't forget about that. He congratulates Jack and Dawson on their goals before they finally head to the parking lot.

Nico drove them to the Prudential Center in his car so she sits in the passenger seat of the car so Nico can drive them to whoever's place is closest. Which is Nico's apartment.

As they leave the parking lot, Nico stops and says hi to some fans. Pictures are taken where (Y/N) is definitely in the background but at this point, she doesn't care. Nico already told the entire world that he had a girlfriend that was at the game.

He signs some jerseys and pucks, takes some pictures, and gets more than a few congratulations on his hat trick before Nico finally pulls out of the parking lot. He looks over at (Y/N), who gives him a small smile as they stop at a red light.

"You played really well tonight," she tells him. "I'm not just saying that because you had a four-point night but you played really well. I'm so proud of you for getting your first hat trick tonight. I can't believe that I was able to watch it happen in person."

Nico laughs and says, "I told you that you're my good luck charm. The first game you come to after we start dating and I score my first NHL hat trick. It's not a coincidence."

She shakes her head with a smile on her face and looks out the window until they get to Nico's. She plays with her thumbs under the sleeves of her too big jersey that Nico gave to her a few weeks ago.

Fifteen minutes after leaving the arena, Nico pulls into his apartment building parking lot and parks in his usual spot. Her car is parked next to his. They get out and begin the trip up to the top floor of the building where Nico lives.

The building is ten stories tall so it takes a minute for the elevator to get up to the tenth floor from the first floor. Their fingers are laced together the entire time.

(Y/N) follows close behind as Nico unlocks the front door to his penthouse apartment. She wraps her arms around his torso as he unlocks the door and presses her front to his back. "You can't wait until we get inside?" Nico asks as the stupid door finally unlocks.

"Nope," she replies, popping the "p". "I wanna show you how proud of you I am."

He laughs before he pushes the door open. (Y/N) stumbles inside after her boyfriend. She closes the door behind her and Nico presses her against it with his hands on her waist. She stares up at him like she’s challenging him to do something.

Nico looks her up and down. “I wasn’t lying earlier when I said you looked good in my jersey,” he tells her. His voice is deeper and accent thicker than it normally is. “I love seeing my name and number on your back. Knowing you’re mine. It’s so hot. You're so beautiful.”

“Do something about it.” Her voice almost comes out as a whisper. She is absolutely challenging him at this point.

He leans down and captures her lips in a searing kiss. Her heart leaps in her chest when their lips touch. Her back hits the door with the force of the kiss and her fingers grasp at the collar of the jacket Nico is wearing. (Y/N) pulls him as close to her as she can get him.

He presses himself completely against her and slots a thigh between her legs. She has to resist the urge to grind up against his thigh to give herself some relief from the pressure that's building between her legs.

"Off," she mumbles as she pushes Nico's jacket off his shoulders. He helps her out and shrugs the fabric off. He kicks it to the side when it hits the floor and grabs her by the waist.

She pushes her waist off the door and they stumble toward the master bedroom where Nico sleeps. Their shoes are kicked off by the door and Nico's jacket is abandoned on the floor. He loses his tie in the living room and his button-up is lost in the hallway.

When Nico falls onto his back on the mattress, all he's wearing is his suit pants. Even they're unbuttoned and the belt is on the floor. (Y/N) looks down at her boyfriend on the bed and gnaws on her bottom lip.

Sometimes she doesn't know how she got so lucky. She fell in love with the most beautiful and loyal guy. He's captain of a NHL team but still manages to find time to see her whenever he can. He's a talented hockey player that fell in love with her.

She can't believe this is her life. Being able to fall in love with Nico has been the best thing that's ever happened to her. Being able to be loved by Nico is an honor.

"You okay?" Nico asks as he sits up. His hands run up and down the back of her thighs. "You look deep in thought."

"Just thinking," she tells him as she crawls onto his lap. She straddles his waist. "I don't know how I got so lucky to love and be loved by you. You could've fallen in love with anyone but you fell in love with me."

Nico smiles up at her and wraps his arms around her waist. "I fell in love with you because you are the most incredible and beautiful woman I have ever known," he replies. "You're so supportive of me despite my crazy schedule. I don't know how I got so lucky."

Her face gets hot as she smiles. "I'm proud of you, Nico," she says. "I am so happy that I get to see you grow as a person and a player." She leans down and presses a quick kiss to his lips. "Gonna show you how proud of you I am."

She slides down to her knees on the floor at the foot of the bed. Her fingers work on unzipping his pants. She pulls Nico's pants and boxers off in one pull. His hard dick pops out of its prison and stands against Nico's stomach. (Y/N) throws them to the floor and kisses up the inside of his leg from his knee.

After placing a soft kiss to his hip bone, she takes him in her hand and gives him a few slow pumps. Nico grabs a pillow and uses it to prop his head up so he can see her without straining his neck. She smiles up at him before she takes him in her mouth.

"Oh, fuck me," Nico breathes out as (Y/N) moves her head up and down on him. "That mouth of yours feels so good, liebling."

(Y/N) loves it when Nico uses German nicknames on her, especially when they're in bed. They sound ten times hotter when her mouth is on him or when he's inside of her. There have been times when (Y/N) has been in control and Nico has been reduced to speaking his native language.

She'll never get enough of it.

One of her hands makes up for what can't fit in her mouth while the under snakes into the leggings she's wearing under the jersey. Her own fingers run through her folds and work her toward her orgasm. She lets out an occasional hum, which drives Nico crazy. She knows it drives Nico crazy by the way he squirms under her touch every time she does it.

Then she does the one thing she knows gets Nico to come almost as soon as she does it. She hollows out her cheeks and sucks before she swirls her tongue around the fire red tip.

"(Y/N), baby," Nico pants. "Gonna come in about two seconds if you keep doing that."

With a pop, she pulls off his leaking dick. She uses her tongue to get a bead of precum that was on the corner of her mouth. "We wouldn't want that to happen so soon now would we?" she asks as she stands up.

Nico's eyes widen as she begins to undress. The leggings come off first. She reaches down to pull the jersey over her head and Nico sits up quickly. "Uh uh," he says. "Jersey stays on."

"If you come on it, you better get me a new one," she tells him as he slides back on the bed. "I'm not walking into games wearing a jersey you came on." He laughs as he reaches into his bedside drawer and pulls out a foil package.

She finishes getting undressed but leaves the jersey on. Nico slides the rubber contents of the packages onto himself as (Y/N) straddles his thighs. He sits back against the pillow and headboard. She leans down and captures Nico's swollen lips in a tender kiss. He matches her pace and slowly kisses her back. He puts a hand on the back of her neck. His fingers curl into her hair.

All of her emotions are poured into this kiss. Her hands are on his jaw so he can't go anywhere. Not that he could go anywhere since she is sitting on his lap.

(Y/N) begins to move her hips slowly. She hums as Nico's dick slides through her folds and against her clit. A soft moan falls from her lips into the kisses she exchanges with Nico.

One of her hands leaves Nico's jaw and she positions him at her entrance. She presses a long kiss to his lips and leaves them connected as she slowly sinks down onto him. A whimper comes from her as the familiar pressure fills her. Nico takes the opportunity to lick into her mouth before he pulls back to look at her.

"You feel so good, schatzi," Nico tells her. "So good for me. You take me so well, you know that?" She replies with a soft hum as he completely fills her.

She allows herself a moment to adjust before she begins to roll her hips. Nico's hands fly to her thighs before sliding under the jersey to her waist. "Fuck, Nico," she breathes out as he moves in and out of her while she rolls her hips. Her hands are on his torso to keep her balance.

Slowly, she begins to pick up her pace. Moans fall from her lips the faster she moves.

One of the best things about being with Nico is how intimate these moments are. It feels amazing to be physically connected to him like they are one person. She wouldn't trade this for the world.

They fit together like two puzzle pieces. His hands fit perfectly on her waist. Their lips mold together every time they touch. The way his nose fits perfectly above hers when their foreheads touch is her favorite thing. She molds against his body every time they lay in bed together.

It's like they were made for each other.

"(Y/N), liebling," Nico breathes out. His eyes are on her as she rides him. "Ich liebe dich so sehr."

This is what she means. It's like he's forgotten how to speak English when they're in bed together. She loves it.

"I love you too," she pants because she's slowly been learning simple phrases and knows what Nico said. He tells her he loves her all the time in German. "I love you so much. I'm so proud of you. Fuck. You're amazing."

One of Nico's hands slide to the back of her neck and he pulls her down so their foreheads rest against each other. Her nose brushes his every time she moves. Her eyes close and Nico's thumbs brush her cheeks. "Open your eyes, baby," Nico tells her. "I want to see them. Please."

Her eyes open back up and meet Nico's big brown eyes. He smiles and she leans down to kiss him. She breathes hard into the kisses that are exchanged between them.

Nico takes advantage of the distraction and rolls them over so he's hovering over her. She smiles up at him until he begins to thrust hard and deep inside of her. A pornographic moan passes her lips and she arches her back to get closer to Nico.

He reaches between them and his fingers find her sensitive clit. She gasps when he touches the bud then whines when he begins to rub her closer to her pending orgasm. "Holy fuck, Nico," she cries out. "Keep going. Fuck."

Nico throws her legs over his shoulder so he can get a new angle and move even deeper into her. She has to bite her lip to keep from screaming his name as he begins to slam into her g-spot over and over again.

"Let me hear you, liebling," Nico says. "Don't hold back."

His pace quickens and she has to grab on to something. She chooses his hair when her hands slide up into his locks and her fingers curl. "I'm gonna come, Nico," she warns him. "Fuck, I'm close."

He keeps the same pace and uses his fingers to bring her over the edge. She comes so hard she sees stars. Her vision goes almost white and Nico's name passes her lips along with a string of curses. Her legs shake as they hang on his shoulders and she cries out as she has one of the most intense climaxes of her life.

Only Nico could ever get her to come like that. No one has ever made her come like that. No one besides Nico will ever get her to come like that.

There's a weight on her chest as she comes to and she realizes that Nico is lying on her chest. They're both panting messes as Nico gets off of her after resting for who knows how long. He ties off the used condom and tosses it into the trash can by the bed.

(Y/N) pulls off the jersey and takes off the bra she's wearing because she's sweating before she crawls under the blankets to cover her naked and spent body. Nico joins her and she rests her chin on his chest. Her eyes are on his the whole time. She traces little shapes on his belly.

"I think I got a little carried away," Nico admits. "I blame the jersey."

She laughs and shakes her head. "Good to know you have a thing for me wearing your jersey," she replies. "I'll have to remember that when you're having a bad day or you have a rough game."

Nico smiles and brushes a piece of hair out of her eyes. "I really do love you a lot," he tells her. "Thank you for coming to the game tonight. It meant a lot to me that you were there to watch me score my first hat trick."

"Thank you for inviting me," she says. "I had a lot of fun watching you score your first hat trick. It was incredible."

He leans down and presses a soft kiss to her lips.

Their night is nowhere close to being over. Nico has a day off so she is going to make sure she takes care of him and gives him whatever he wants for the rest of the night. All because of that hat trick.

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MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

[rea-grimm]

Weapon Shanks

You came from the Grand Line and travelled the world with one goal: to become a master. You wanted to find your true weapon to strengthen yourself.

You've always been able to handle yourself, and the only weapon you wanted to fight with was your real one. You just have to find it.

Unfortunately, something happened to the tattoo on your wrist during your journey. You had a grey sword that broke one afternoon. Or it looked like it was missing a part.

You couldn't believe your weapon was broken. But you weren't going to let that discourage you. At least it was still alive. That motivated you to keep going. Even with a broken weapon, you could still fight.

One day, you got to the island, where you wanted to search for your weapon again. This island was particularly busy, full of all sorts of people. Pirates, merchants, and sailors of all kinds.

The streets and the bars, the whole area was buzzing with life. There were so many people, Masters and weapons, it was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Instead, you decided to get some refreshment and relax in a bar on the outskirts of town. You walked in and took a seat at the bar. The inside was just as busy as the outside.

It looked like the entire pirate crew was celebrating inside. Everyone was partying, having a good time and celebrating life.

You ordered a drink and wondered what to do next. You wondered where you should head next, and if your mission would even work.

During that thought, you didn't even realise how fast you drank your drink until someone else shook you out of your thoughts. A certain handsome, red-haired man. 

"One more round for me and here for the Master," he laughed, ordering you another drink. He had you in his sights the whole time. As soon as you walked into the bar, he didn't take his eyes off you, and you didn't even notice. 

The man gave you a wide, full smile and raised his tankard for a toast. You nodded to him with your drink before taking a sip. 

After this,s you talked, or rather he talked. He kept telling you things, and before you could reply, he was already smiling and moving on. 

Before you knew it, he offered you a seat in his crew. At least on a trial basis. They could use a master like you. You wanted to let it go to your head, but it looked like he'd already decided you belonged with them now anyway. 

You spent a few more days on the island before you set sail again. You weren't sure exactly what their goal was, but for now, you decided to let the current take you. 

Instead, you get to know the captain of the pirates more. Shanks was a weapon, specifically a sabre with ornamental decoration on the hilt. 

But you hadn't yet seen it in its full transformation into a weapon. He only ever changed his hand when he needed to. Which wasn't much. 

Until one sea fight, when some young pirates who didn't know who they were dealing with attacked your ship. That's when Shanks decided to investigate your abilities as a Master. 

Before you could fight back, he turned into a sabre, and you had no choice but to fight back. To your shock, which you had sort of expected, he was like a weapon unbound. It was his missing hand that formed the crossguard that was now missing. 

You had to be careful not to let your hand slip on the blade when handling it. You felt like you were fighting multiple enemies at once. Against the one that was attacking you, and against the imbalance of the weapon that was affecting your attacks. 

The fight was chaotic, and you had to improvise constantly. You were almost hit several times when you were narrowly missed. 

During the fight, Shanks spoke to you through the bond you formed as Master and weapon. His voice was calm and completely balanced. He advised you and gave you courage and confidence. 

Slowly, you found your own fighting style that used Shanks' imbalance to your advantage. 

Shanks was excited about the whole fight. Not only did you win, which was a given, but it confirmed the fact that he was your real weapon and you were his master. 

No one could say otherwise, if only because of your excellent chemistry, but also because of the tattoo you had on your wrist, which had changed since the fight. Now, instead of a plain grey sword, you had a colour-accurate replica of Shanks on your wrist like a sabre, complete with three scars on the blade and no guard. 

"I hope you didn't plan on running away from me when you finally found your real weapon." Shanks smiled at you and took you in a crushing hug. "Because I'm not just going to give you up," he whispered before kissing you on the lips. 

It seemed your search was over, and now a whole new chapter awaited you with your weapon at your side.

Shanks Masterlist

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: A debt owed, a debt repaid

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“Who are you?”

Veshmal looked across the holographic table at the armored female human who stood stoically at the center of his war room. He was unsure of who the human was but they certainly not who he had requested a meeting with.

Three hours ago he had sent a communication to the human warship holding high anchor and demanded the leader of the human contingent come to his command bunker and explain his forces recent actions. Three hours of being kept waiting within the bustling noise of his command bunker until finally a human arrived only for it to not be the leader.

“I am Sarah Noron, Herald of the Order.” The human spoke through their helmet. The audio broadcasters gave their voice a robotic overtone causing several passing aides to react startled. “The master regrets that he could not be present, but wishes to pass along his sympathies as other matters took precedent.”   

“Other matters took precedent?” Veshmal repeated in a snide tone as his anger swelled.

Raising his hand to an elaborate pin on his uniform depicting two serpents devouring a giant bird creature Veshmal announced “I am the Supreme Commander of this invasion! At my command are millions of warriors spread across this entire planet and thousands of ships in orbit comprising the largest military this quadrant has ever seen!”

Unimpressed, the human warrior looked down at Veshmal. “I assure you that I speak with the authority of my master-“

“That is not the point!” Veshmal interrupted. He strode across the holographic table projecting numerous offensives across the world at came before the human. His sabre slapping lazily against his leg as he stood before them and jabbed his clawed finger against their armor. The taloned finger was not enough to pierce the dense metal but left a small scratch as he continued his beratement. “I asked for your master, not his mouth piece!”

The human warrior made no response but those watching could see as well as hear as they clenched their fists tightly.

“What do you wish to speak of?” the human finally spoke; their voice thick with restraint.

With a snap of his fingers one of the waiting military staff approached the table and entered in several keys. The charts for ongoing operations slowly vanished one by one to be replaced with a single operation dated to have happened earlier.

“Earlier today you broke off your pursuit of retreating enemy forces along the hemlock ravine. A full battalion of motorized and armored vehicles were able to then safely retreat across the only bridge to span the divide before they blew it up behind them.”

Turning to face the herald, if they showed any embarrassment they gave no sign of it.

“Why did you ignore your orders and let the enemy escape?”

“For clarification,” the human began, “they were not “Order’s” but a request made to my master to which he agreed.”

The sheer disrespectfulness of the human’s blunt response stunned several of the gathered officers and made Veshmal turn a shade of green of anger as the human continued.

“For repairing one of our warships some time ago your people earned the gratitude of the Order of the Fallen Sun, and we have come to answer that debt by aiding you here in this campaign. That does not mean however that we are your lackies to be ordered about.”

Before Veshmal could reply with a no doubt harsh insulting remark one of his underlings stepped in.

“To which we are grateful for your assistance,” they said hastily, “but can you still explain your actions?”

To the gathered onlookers the human nodded and pointed to the hologram.

“Acting on the intel you provided, our forces converged on the enemy and hounded their rearguard as our mobile units sought to overtake them and cut off their approach to the bridge.”

The hologram indeed showed human forces isolating and obliterating several rearguard formations that had broken away from the main body to slow down the order’s pursuit while several prongs of airborne vehicles carried infantry detachments to secure the bridge.

“As we came within visual range of the main body of the enemy forces however we soon discovered that the majority of the contacts were civilian vehicles in nature.”

“They were most likely stolen by fleeing soldiers to make up for their own loses in machinery.” Veshmal remarked, but the human shook their head.

“Had that been the case we would have continued with our mandate and obliterated them; but upon further scanning they were shown to be occupied by women, children, sick, and injured who are not designated as combat effectives.”

Tapping their own headset a small projection emerged from the human helmet and overlapped the table’s to show a live feed taken from one of the approaching aircraft meant to cut off the bridge. Several vehicles were largely open top cabins showcasing that there were indeed mostly women and children present. Several other vehicles had been marked with large strange glyphs that signified “Medical” in the enemy’s native tongue indicating they were noncombatants.

“Upon learning of this the information was relayed to my master who canceled the attack order. We then broke off and shadowed the retreating forces until they detonated the bridge.”

No one said anything as the human finished their summary. They were too afraid to incur their commander’s wrath as Vashmal rounded on the human.

“So you admit to ignoring your orders!?”

“Again,” the human began to correct, “they were a requ-“

“Silence!”

In a swift motion Veshmal drew his saber and swung it in a wide arch across the breastplate of the human’s armor. Unlike the taloned finger the weapon carved a small grove across the armor and deformed the Order’s symbol that had adorned the armor.

No one was surprised or sought to intervene with the supreme commander’s action, as it was customary for a supreme commander to kill a subordinate who had failed them. What was strange was that the human made no move to defend themselves. Many had seen firsthand that the human’s reaction time and combat efficiency were well above the standard soldier so they had expected for the human warrior to dodge or even shatter the saber outright with their bare hands. Yet they did nothing as Veshmal continued.

“I did not care that there were civilians present, I wanted that armored battalion destroyed! Annihilated! Vaporized! Do you not understand!?”

Veshmal waited, with saber still in hand, for the human to answer but none came.

The room was now silent as all ceased their activities to watch the unfolding dramatics as the human tilted their head down slightly and brought up an armored hand and felt it over the fresh grove. They ran their fingers across the entire length of the grove that had been churned from their armor before looking back up at the still fuming Veshmal.

“So you admit that you knew there were civilians present when you requested us to attack?”

“Of course I knew!” Veshmal retorted loudly. “There isn’t a single action on this world that does not happen without my-“

It was Veshmal’s turned to be interrupted as the human warrior Sarah reached into a combat pouch and withdrew a metal disk and casually threw it to the ground. The disk clattered loudly before expanding three times its size and hummed with energy.

From it a projection sprung a blue hologram of a warrior easily twice the size of Sarah sitting atop an equally large throne. They wore no helmet and for those watching few could look on for long as this human’s face was horrific to look upon.

Bands of iron stapled themselves across scars while a portion of their lip was missing revealing the teeth behind. One eye shun with the glow of a misty morning’s dew while the other was that of burning embers of a dying flame.

Veshmal straightened himself as he finally had gotten what he had requested; an audience with the human order’s master.

“What news my herald?” the warrior’s voice boomed. “Has the matter been resolved?”

Hands emerged from off screen handing the master datapads of which the master scanned the contents rapidly and gave either a nod or shake in response before handing them back. “I must admit I long for the days when I was youthful and full of fire.” He chuckled as he continued reading datapads. “Oh to feel the breeze of a shredder round nearly splattering your head would be such a fine sensation compared to the monotony of paperwork.”

As if noticing something finally the master held up a hand and the datapads withdrew as the master turned his full attention to the projection.

“Why is your armor damaged?” they said. “It was not there when you left the ship. Has the command center come under attack?”

Before Veshmal could interject Sarah answered her master.

“The Supreme Commander struck me with his weapon after I relayed the reasons for our cessation of attack on the armored battalion.”

She turned to look directly at Veshmal. “Reasons the Supreme Commander was well aware of beforehand but neglected to inform us of.”

“That is entirely-“ Veshmal began before being silenced when the master held up a hand.

Reclining back into their throne the master cusped his forehead in thought as he contemplated what had just been said.

“Herald…” he finally spoke as he continued to stroke his head.

“Yes master?” Sarah replied without hesitation.

“Order all of our forces to cease operations and prepare for embarkation back to the ship. We are done with this war.”

“Now wait just a minute!” Veshmal finally spoke up. “You owe us a debt and you swore to assist us! This war is far from over!”

“Indeed we did.” The master replied as he turned his full attention to Veshmal who took a step back when the pair of human eyes stared at him with pure malice from the projection.

“It is against our order’s tenants to attack the defenseless intentionally and by knowingly lying to us on this matter you have broken the trust of our pact.”

“Therefore our debt has been paid as we will not seek retribution for this deception.” The master finished.

“It is done.” Sarah confirmed as she rejoined the conversation. “All units are disengaging and returning to rally points now. We shall be offworld within the next two hours.”

The master nodded but kept his gaze fixated on Veshmal.

“Now, regarding the matter of your attempted murder of my herald..” the master continued. “I would suggest everyone listening to this conversation to remain where they are and do not interfere. It would be wise to not let your hands drift to your weapons with what is to come.”

Not fully understanding what the human leader was saying, they watched in confusion as the human warrior placed her weapons on the ground and cracked her knuckles in ear splitting fashion.

“Make it quick and then return.” The master addressed his Herald. “The foulness of this war is now a stench I find most…..infuriating.”

With that the projection ceased and the room was left quiet once more.

“What did he mean-“ Veshmal had just began to utter when Sarah’s fist grabbed hold of the saber and snapped it in two.

The Supreme commander had just enough time to look bewildered before she brought the shattered remains of the saber still clenched in her fist straight through his chest and out his back.

Vashmal collapsed like a puppet whose strings had finally been cut, grasping fruitlessly at the wound as he watched the human herald retrieve their weapons and stride out of the command center.  All those present frozen in fear and horror at the swiftness of their leader’s death refusing to even treat the wound medically until the human had finally left the room; but by then their leader was beyond any means of treatment and those who remained now were left the ponderous task of what to do next.

[honeyliruh]

When I think of Sabr, I think of Yaqub عليه السلام and the qissah of Surah Yusuf. And I think its because I've always resonated with the way Allah سبحانه و تعالى shows us through his prophet that the method of observing patience, may not necessarily look the same for everyone. Yaqub عليه السلام went blind from his tears of grief, Subhan'Allah, and yet he still carried the purest form of Hope in his heart. He trusted His Lord's Plan knowing his complaints were only heard by Him alone, and even still his grief caused him to lose his own sight. As someone who has always worn their heart on their sleeve I remember feeling so heard and understood when I came across these profound verses. For the first time I felt content with the fact that, feeling things deep within my core and ultimately responding to my body's way of releasing grief, sorrow, loss, pain did not in any way translate to anything other than Sabr. I realised the truth in how our Lord's profound words have not just been preserved to be a book with stories of the past, but rather it is the sole cure to our hearts when this world feels like too much of a burden. It is and has always been our only way of navigating through this world and all it's trials and that is quite literally why our Lord Himself reminds us, "verily in the remembrance of Allah do hearts find rest". So for those of you who are struggling with something that no one can truly comprehend the depths of, know that you are entitled to your own way of coping that too without the pressure of someone else's definition of Sabr. And know that your Lord is All Aware of all the turmoils your heart has endured, He knows the sincere weight of each tear that falls from your eyes and ultimately it is He, who shall compensate for them just as He returned the coolness of Yaqub عليه السلام eyes.

Most of all, let this be a reminder that your tears have never fallen in vain 🌷

-honeyliruh

وَتَوَلَّىٰ عَنْهُمْ وَقَالَ يَـٰٓأَسَفَىٰ عَلَىٰ يُوسُفَ وَٱبْيَضَّتْ عَيْنَاهُ مِنَ ٱلْحُزْنِ فَهُوَ كَظِيمٌ

He turned away from them, lamenting, “Alas, poor Joseph!” And his eyes turned white out of the grief he suppressed. [Surah Yusuf - Verse 84]

قَالَ إِنَّمَآ أَشْكُوا۟ بَثِّى وَحُزْنِىٓ إِلَى ٱللَّهِ وَأَعْلَمُ مِنَ ٱللَّهِ مَا لَا تَعْلَمُونَ

He replied, “I complain of my anguish and sorrow only to Allah, and I know from Allah what you do not know [Surah Yusuf - Verse 86]

فَلَمَّآ أَن جَآءَ ٱلْبَشِيرُ أَلْقَىٰهُ عَلَىٰ وَجْهِهِۦ فَٱرْتَدَّ بَصِيرًا ۖ قَالَ أَلَمْ أَقُل لَّكُمْ إِنِّىٓ أَعْلَمُ مِنَ ٱللَّهِ مَا لَا تَعْلَمُونَ

But when the bearer of the good news arrived, he cast the shirt over Jacob’s face, so he regained his sight. Jacob then said ˹to his children˺, “Did I not tell you that I truly know from Allah what you do not know?” [Surah Yusuf - Verse 96]

[ohsunnyboy]

against everything | shen quanrui ˚₊‧⁺˖

you know nothing about shen quanrui, duke of the north. all you do know is that you're getting married and you're winning this sword fight.

TAGS: royalty!au, cold duke!ricky, gn!reader, rivals/enemies/strangers to lovers, arranged marriage, sparring!!, a little mean!ricky for the sake of the au, gets angsty in the end v sorry haha

A/N: this has been in the drafts since debut lmao it's v long but enjoy!!! as always, purely self indulgent ! (pls imagine historical manhwa level visuals iykyk)

WORDS: ~1900

Could there be a worse fate than this? Marrying Shen Quanrui, elusive Duke of the North and Lord of Yuehua.

You knew that marriage was coming. Being the youngest in the family and the rest of your brothers off to the capital to play bachelors and sisters bartered off for titles. One by one, marriage invites piled up over your desk until it finally came time for you to write your own.

Yet still, you have yet to meet him.

What you do know of the duke, is that he exists and is not mere fragment of your imagination — according to your mother.  It’s his estate you’re getting married at, but he hasn’t shown his face once in your week here. Not a letter, a word, anything! Anything would be better than this silence that plagues the grounds.

You pull your coat tighter around you as the northern chill slides under your bones. You want to begin to rethink all your feeble decisions right then and there. Or rather, the lack of your decisions that's brought you here. Wandering the Shen gardens like a ghost with an intent to haunt someone you’ve never even met.

Though, it seems like a calling of fate when you turn to an open yard.

Here, the snow clears away to worn cobble leading to a snow spackled dirt and a sparring platform. Swords line the training ground and gleam in the moonlight as you make your way towards them. Clearly standard issue and worn beyond ware, but swords, nonetheless. You can’t help but feel a little giddy, no one should be about at midnight like this, and no one should be out looking for the training grounds either. You clamber up the stairs to the wooden stage. Each board creaks lightly under your feet, almost like the decks of the galleys you used to run about on. From above, it’s easy to become entranced watching the snow spiral down as it settles.

You really could stand in marvel all night, but a figure watches you from where you came from. A bolt of fear strikes through you, dark eyes watching you freeze. Is it fate? Another ghost that haunts this place?

"Who are you?" the boy ask – or rather, demands.

You almost blink twice to make sure you aren’t dreaming. His hair is the palest of whites, rivalling the light of the moon and the falling snow itself. You’d stay in your stupor for longer, but he stares with a hard set in his eye that you know only means trouble.

"Oughtn’t you introduce yourself before you ask?" you snap.

“I asked first.”

“And it’s rude to ask and not offer your own name first.”

Your reply only ticks him off further it seems as he reaches for one of the sabres on the rack. "Then we fight for it,” mystery man says simply.

"Now? anyone could see us plain as day if they look out the windows! are you insane!" You can hardly believe it when he kicks another sabre across the stage to your feet. "What if the duke sees us?" you hiss, but it only makes him smirk further.

"Then let him," he counters with a flourish of his blade. "Or are you scared, peasant?"

Heat rises to your cheeks, and you swipe it from the floor with indignation. Honestly, he’s nothing impressive. What’s a pretty face when he’s built like a sheaf of paper? Your brothers are easily bulkier and taller compared to him, and you've swept the floor with them before. With him? it’s a matter of deck scrubbing him into the snow.

The sabre fits into your palm with a comforting weight. It's a far throw from duelling on ships and jagged seas but it's the song of duelling that sounds like home.

"Done playing with it? Or do you need a sword lesson instead?" and oh, that smirk is infuriating. "First to yield divests their name and title – should they even own one," he drawls.

All you can do is nod and settle into stance. Low and wide for balance, steady as an anchor in tide – all the more important with the ice. He mirrors with his own, a little taller, a little more forward, and with a whole lot more ego than what he should have.

A moment, slow and quiet, is spent staring down the edge of your swords. His steps, closer and closer, the howl of the air—

Then, he lunges.

When you meet, it’s mean, forceful and utterly demanding. Though, would you expect anything less of him?

It’s a game of darting and pushing. In and out of each other’s reach by just a breath. When you circle each other, his eyes follow you everywhere. It’s a gaze that would crumble you if you weren’t running on sheer adrenaline right now. You could count the sweat on his brow each time he tries to brute force his sabre down on you, but you parry just as strong. 

Every strike you sweep, you channel all the pent-up nerves behind them. A week of restlessness, of anger all coming down an a willing, taunting target.

The next sweep that he dives for cuts from his left to right, instead of parrying, you decide to lunge again. You go low, essentially diving under his blade and entirely into his space. You seize your chance, blood rushing in your head and mouth twisted in a horribly cocky grin and shove him to the floor. When he lands with a thud, lips parted in surprise, you waste no time in pinning him down, forearm barred across his chest and sword staked into the wood next to his neck.

"Do you yield?" Your breath ghosts across his face, twining with his own in this cold air.

The moon illuminates his sweat like shattered stars across his skin, pale as the snow and flawless as the sky. You want to sneer it into his skin: his gorgeous devastation. Perfection and arrogance wrapped into one.

"Out with it,” you glower over the pound of your heart and the silence between you two.

He must see something because you have no idea what’s got him smiling like that.

"Shen." What? " Warden of the North and Duke of Yuehua." A thousand thoughts, and a million more revelations. No way, this isn't possible. "Shen Quanrui, though, I thought you would have known already – with your attitude and all."

You feel the heat of the situation pour into you like the sun projecting a thousand-fold upon yourself. You scramble back, desperate for some decency because you've effectively just sat on the duke, warden of the north, and, least importantly of all, your soon-to-be husband. Quanrui rises as you fall backwards into the snow, the sword clattering next to you as he reverses the position.

“My lord,” you’re babbling now. The grin on his face is sly and all too prideful but it brings an angry red to your face that would have your brothers rolling in laughter. “I…I had no idea.”

And Quanrui huffs a small laugh at you beneath him, scrambling for words. “You have made that quite clear, darling.” His silhouette eclipses the moon, and you swear the glint in his eyes twinkle along with the stars above.

“Darling?”

“Do you not like it, darling?” Quanrui says it like trying a new wine on his tongue. He tries to roll it, like one of those sopranos at the opera, all natural and beholding. Is it stupid to be so entranced in someone? You know nothing about him – no one does. But can you say that when he’s staring at you like this? Calling you darling like this? Holding you like this?

So blind to it all, isn’t he?

“No, not at all.” You shake your head getting yourself out of your stupor, trying to put your words together. “It’s just… you have not come to see me once in my week here. Why do you only turn up now, not even on purpose, when we’re to be wed by the end of the fortnight?” It comes out in a stream, past freezing lips and over piles of abandoned reasoning. “Is this the cruelty they speak of? Your empty coldness then a taunting heat? What then after this, my lord. Will you leave me to the cold another week, to haunt your palace like a fool? What then—”

An arresting hand presses over your mouth, stopping your stream of consciousness. Devastation paints Quanrui’s face when you blink past your anger. Long gone is his smirk, and all the stars in his eyes. It’s pinched with guilt.

“I never meant for it. Never – I never meant for cruelty. I’d thought you would want space, time to adjust and settle in by yourself! I thought—”

“You thought! But you never wrote, you never knew in the first place, my lord,” you sneer. “You never had a right to assume, when all you know are damned titled deeds and how many men my father will send for your blasted armies. Do you even know I’m from the eastern coasts? That I’d never even seen snow until I stepped foot into your land. And you think I wanted space!?”

“Enough.” He sits back on his heels, head facing to the falling sky; illuminated like a god ascended. What a waste of a pretty face when Quanrui looks down at you, eyes bared to confess. “I had no right. You are true, everything is true.  I do not know you, but I will learn you,” he promises. “I won’t leave you to bear this cold alone. Leaving you to face against everything yourself was my first mistake and I will make it my last.”  

You almost laugh, nigh incredulous at his claims. “Bold words, my lord. Are you rehearsing your vows as we speak in this moment?” Your temper ebbs and flows, this is cruel, you want to say, but you bite your tongue before he remembers that abandoned sword next to you.

“Nothing about this—“ Quanrui gestures to both your states “—is rehearsed, I swear.” The honesty is etched into his being. “You fought me – the real me. And beat me well at it too.”

Finally, you do laugh. “That I did! Doesn’t that make you even more unworthy of me?” It’s posed like a barb, but you say it with a grin. If he can fight for his honour, there’s a chance at the truth.

Infuriating as ever, his smirk is back in full force. “I don’t know. How about we settle the score properly?” Maybe you’ll come to love it – just one day. One day you’ll see past the snow and ice, remembering tumbling waves and open sun, to love a marriage wrought with him.

“Alright then.”

The night is long in the north, impossibly so. But time will come, and the day will thaw the love that was buried all along.

i ran away with this defo, but i'm glad i’m done :) thanks so much for reading!! Please leave a reblog and a like if you enjoyed ⭒ masterlist

[fledercanons]

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[probablyspooky]

To the Stars (Yautja x kryptonian reader) P.2

[Previous]

From across the lake , the crackling of fire, the smells of smoked meats. The campsite of human hunters, hunters who disobeyed the natural territory that belonged to your clan. Beings of selfishness, beings who desire one thing.

Power.

Miguel, a young lad finding his way in this world, sat at the edge of his camp, staring off into the wilderness. Sharpening a stick with his hunting knife because...well there isn't much else to do in this world.

Him and his family had traveled down from the Andes mountains in search of large game to return back home with. Much to Miguel's dismay, he'd rather be anywhere than watching the stupid trees.

Until he notices something, that something is you. You're nothing like the girls back home, in fact there's something... different about you. He watches as you bend down to fill a pot with water. He rises to his feet, and starts to walk towards the shoreline, but he stops. He notices the two large beasts that trail behind you.

Were they your captors? Were you their prisoner?

He rushes back into the campsite, begging everyone, anyone who could hear him to help the girl from the two monsters by the water. But when everyone got their rifles and their weapons, you were gone.

People muttered insults of 'uselessness' and a 'time waste' under their breaths as they left Miguel alone.

Frustrated with himself he crosses the water to the area where you once stood. Were you his imagination? Perhaps he just created the beasts in his head out of boredom...

Yet standing at the very riverbank where you filled your pot with water, there were three sets of prints.

Two human feet...and two pairs of large monstrous feet...

Returning home Ada and Sabre walked off to their separate homes with their pots overhead.

You turn to go to your home when you bump into Yidaar.

"Oh! Star child...I did not see you approaching," he says, looking down at you with his amber eyes.

"Yidaar!," you chirp, covering your mouth.

Yidaar was a young adult male, of grey skin, amber eyes, and long thick dreads that landed mid-backside

"Let me help you-"

"Yidaar as nice as that is, you know I have no issues carrying my own pot of water," you reply, walking past him

He quickens pace to catch up

"Think of it as a simple nice gesture, not like... you are too weak to carry it. I simply wish to be nice to you."

Before you can respond, the clacking of bones catches your attention as your adoptive father Pa'sa walks over, his necklace of trophies clinking together as his large stature makes his way over to the two of you.

"Yidaar..." he looks down at the young yautja

"Elder..." Yidaar gulped, stepping back

"Dad..." you say,

"[Y/N]..."

Crickets chirping

Yidaar clears his throat, and says his goodbyes as he quickly leave the two of you alone.

"So...you and Yidaar" Ps'sa smirks

"No!" you blush heavily

"I'm not opposed, I mean he is a valued warrior, top of his generation"

You grumble as you walk past your dad and head inside the cave, Pa'sa follows you closely behind

"I see you fetched the water for the day, did anyone see you?" he asks, coming over and watching you float up to put the pot on the high shelf after emptying it into the basin.

"No, we were careful, like always..." you grumble a bit into your tone.

"Do I hear...displeasure in your voice my child?" he clicks softly, tilting his head towards you.

Displeasure...of course your displeased. Since as long as you could remember, the mountains...the caves, and the woods that surround the base of the mountain is all you've known. You're not allowed to go past a certain point, you're not allowed to interact with humans. You are expected to be born here and die here if you're in this situation.

Something, apart of you wishes to go past the limits and explore, your body is able, you are strong enough. Yet one thing holds you back...

"Young one?"

Your father.

"Nothing father, honest" you reply quickly, returning to your room.

Pa'sa sighs, knowing your nature and your desire for adventure, yet he's worried of those who would exploit your gift, those who would use you as a weapon against those weaker, or even those you love.

The next day, before the sunbeams over the tips of the mountains, you sneak out of your home and go to Ada's

You poke him with a twig, multiple times as he sleeps in his pile of multiple younger brothers and sisters

He groans under them

"What...what is it..." he asks groggily

"Let's sneak past the boarder" you whisper excited

Ada jumps up catching one of his siblings that slid down his back.

"What?!" he whisper shouts, "Are you crazy?"

"C'mon...if you don't go I'm still going"

Somehow that makes Ada agrees, rearranging the young ones in the pile, he follows you outside. Next to get is Sabre.

Sabre doesn't have a family, he often sleeps in a hammock just by the clans main cave exit.

As you approach the main exit, you see him snoozing away.

Aba and you look at one another and smile mischievously.

Sabre grumbles as he follows the two of you down the mountain.

Ada laughs out loud, the large golden colored yautja with green eyes and thin dreads races along the trail.

"You should've seen your face Sabre!" he laughs

Sabre, the mute grey yautja with blue eyes, short thick dreads, and a deep scar across his throat sighs.

"You disturbed my sleep for a task that will get us both in trouble," he signs

"We won't get in trouble, you both are grown." you state, following along with the two

"You're right, we will just get extra chores for the clan while you are simply put under house arrest Yeyinde this one," Ada says to Sabre, with Sabre nodding along.

You groan, the two of them acting like you're some sort of untouchable being just because Ps'sa is your dad.

Soon the three of you reach the bottom of the mountain and go past the clans effigy, warning those to stay away.

The sun starts to cross over the many miles of forest at the bottom of the mountains. The wildlife, from the largest deer, to the smallest bird begin their days by grazing, and searching for food. An everyday struggle for those at the bottom of the food chain.

The trio keep walking, there isn't much to see besides trees for miles, occasional bear track, occasional moose poop.

"This is uneventful..." Ada states, leaning against a nearby tree, "What were you hoping to see out here?"

"I was hope-"

A gun click

Another persons morning, Miguel wakes up early, and arms himself with his rifle, hoping to catch you before you could run off, if you truly were in danger, he'd save you.

Wandering around the bottom of the mountain, he searches, for hours he searches, the sun begins to gleam down onto the earth.

He feels hopeless...until he hears you three, the two beasts speaking a language unknown to him.

Quickly feeling a rush of adrenaline, he crouches down low, moving amongst the bushes, he closes the space between your group and him.

He sees you standing in the middle of the path, the two beasts on either side of you, he has a clear shot. He raises his rifle up to point towards the golden one. Pulling the top trigger back, he forgot about the click.

Click

The three turn and stare at Miguel. He panics, and fires a bullet at the golden one.

With a blast, Miguel falls back, not hearing a yowl of pain, or even a thud of a body hitting the ground, he quickly rushes to his feet, grabbing his rifle from the dirt he stands again to see you standing between the golden one and him. The bullet on the ground crumpled, as if it had hit an immovable object.

"What the hell..."

Seeing the man point his weapon at Ada, your body reacts as it always does. Moving faster than most eyes can see, you place yourself between Ada and the gun, it fires, and the bullet is shot into your shoulder, it crumples on impact with your skin, falling to the ground, still hot from being fired.

The man, who is around the same age as you, lifts his rifle up again, this time to aim at Sabre, you rush forward, grabbing the gun and bending it backwards with your two hands. Seeing you bend the metal startles the man, and he fires once more. This causes the gun to explode in your hands.

To the mans shock, but not to your friends, you're fine.

Looking down at the now destroyed gun in your hands, you toss it aside and stare down at the man who has fallen back onto the ground.

Ada and Sabre call back to you, as they being to turn to return back home before this human can follow you home.

You turn back at the man, and back at your friends who are quickly heading home. With a gust of wind, you are gone in the blink of an eye.

Miguel stares in shock, he blinked and you were gone. Cursing under his breath, you were not a captive...you're a goddess...

He sits on his knees, and laps on his palms, staring into the dirt, thinking about how his bullets crumpled against your skin.. how effortlessly you bent the gun...The gun...

Miguel turns his head to the gun you had tossed to the side, he picks it up and examines it.

You can clearly make out where ones fingers would be if they were to bend metal.

He had proof you were real...

[moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami]

— make do. (of seas and torment entry)

summary: you suppose fencing in a frock isn't all that different from playing roughly as children.

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

warnings: mayhaps inaccurate fencing descriptions, unresolved sexual tension

of seas and torment, to vex a viscount

⚔°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You watched with passive interest as Luke’s hands toiled on the blade of the sword. The piece of fabric sheathed in between his fingers hugged the blunt edge of the steel as he moved in patterns of ups and downs.

“I admit, I much prefer sword fighting to fencing, but I suppose we shall have to make do.” You disrupted the steady flow of silence between the both of you. The lack of rancor in your interactions these days was truly disconcerting.

Luke merely turned to you, as if he’d already expected you to speak. The morning sunlight peeked through the branches and boughs of the trees behind him. His eyes turned into an ethereal shade of brown, the muscles of his forearms and fingers rippled underneath the illuminated heat, the curve of his nose and the dips upon his cheeks looked as if they were chiseled from marble. You surmised, as he stood bathed in the light, that he looked like a god. You had half the mind to turn away for fear of damnation.

“Are you suggesting I fight against you?” He asked. He cocked his hip to one side. He turned the sword clasped within his palm to inspect his work. You squinted as the metal glared because of the sun.

“It would seem so, yes.” You replied dryly. You stood up from your seat on the bench, the skirts of your frock faling beneath you and onto the grass. You perused the selection of weapons on the table as you walked closer, hand already extended to pick your choice.

“I think not.” He snapped. “I do not wish to hurt you.”

You scoffed. You toyed with the hilt of your chosen sword, and studied the feel of it in your hand. “We played roughly as children. I do not see how this is any different.”

“We were children.” He said matter-of-factly, as if that would explain his hesitance.

“And what could have possibly happened within the past few years to disallow a benign game between two friends?” You rolled your eyes. You grinned at him. “The only change to note is the obvious superiority of my swordsmanship to yours.”

“I have my doubts on the matter.” He replied passively as he turned around to tidy his supplies. You pushed the tip of your sabre against his back; the fabric of his jacket creased due to the pressure. Luke paused in his movements.

He turned to his side. “You are wearing a dress.”

“We both know that is of no issue.” You sniffed dismissively before you retracted your assault.

“It is highly improper.” He reasoned, though you were certain he knew it was a futile attempt.

“You’re stalling, my lord.” You laughed. Your voice tinkled higher near the end, his title slipping out of your mouth more teasing than respectful. “I’m beginning to think you do not know how to wield a sword at all.”

“Preposterous.” He murmured underneath his breath. He proceeds to aggressively pull on a padded glove onto his palm, his glare directed solely at you.

“Honor me as you would a real opponent.” You reminded him.

“You have my word.” Luke replied. Provoking him was all part of your plan, after all; it was the only way to ensure that he played harshly.

“En garde.” You remarked as the both of you crouched down to the proper beginning posture. Your blades met in the middle.

You tapped your blade against his as you shifted towards and away from each other in miniscule steps. After mere seconds, you lunged forward. He blocked your attack with a tilt of his sword. You continued with your offense— hit after hit directed towards his direction.

“I thought you were supposed to be skilled at this.” You teased him. Your breaths turned heavier with each moment of exertion.

“We’ve barely begun, Jackson.” He tutted. You smiled at the deliberate use of your surname, the gesture oddly brought back a semblance of familiarity that was hidden away when he left.

“But you're the one backed against the tree.” You responded with a mocking pout. He moved forward to attack you from beneath; you raised an eyebrow as you deflected.

“Truly unfortunate.” He remarked disinterestedly.

“You don’t seem the least bit vexed.” You squinted your eyes. You rounded your sword against his.

“It might come as a surprise to you, but not everything you do begets a reaction from me.” He replied with an amused smirk. The corner of his lips tilted up in a boyish, self-satisfied little grin.

“That, I shall never concede to.” You shook your head, your own grin matching his.

Luke swung his sword overhead. The metal whispered as it moved against the wind, following a circular pattern before arching. The sudden veer surprised you, and before you knew it, the tip of his blade landed right against your chest.

“Fair play.” He winked.

You huffed. His sword was still pressed against your skin, yet his attention was elsewhere. His pupils were blown wide as he stared at something else upon your person. You followed his line of sight— his gaze was intent on the beads of sweat that trickled down from your jaw to your decolletage. You blushed crimson.

You stepped away from him. Luke turned away.

You pulled out a handkerchief from your reticule to relieve your skin of its dampness. You concealed your smile.

[rotting-ink]

A little jealousy snippet of sasha and mc for a piece of gum and 7 dabloons🤕

Using GN pronouns with Sasha for this one!

You arrived, arm in arm with Dasha, into the ballroom, feeling a bit better now, able to lean on them. You were all too aware of their body gently against yours, their warmth. It felt good after your cold day. You glanced around the room, seeing who had already arrived. The twins were already there, absolutely mauling a poor innocent with lewd questions, looking night identical with their matching clothes. Stas was hiding some bottles of wine in his jacket, but gave you a conspiratorial wink before slipping away, no doubt to his back to his own court. Sasha was... Of, course, with their usual entourage, rapt with attention as your eldest sibling lounged, sipping from a glass of something clear.

You looked away quickly, instead giving Dasha a quick smile.

"I'm alright now. You can-"

"You're going to need something to drink. Quite warm, isn't it?" Dasha murmured, their voice low, conspiratorial, needlessly so. You glanced at them to reply but their face was so close, your breath left you completely. Their black eyes seemed to be laughing at you.

You could sense your Aide taking a step forward, about to break up your closeness when-

"What's this then?" A figure stood in front of you two, voice tight. It was Sasha, with... With their terrible smile on. The one you saw before he'd wrestle Stas down into a headlock, or roughly grabbing Alba's wrist to twist it this way and that, until the skin was red and sore.

"Oh, your Highness-" Dash started before being cut off.

"Oh, little doll. Get us a drink, hm?" Sasha didn't take their eyes off Dasha. "

"Ah- Oh. Umh. What would you like?" You tried to get their attention.

"Glass of Starka, if you don't mind. My own vintage, Aksana's own tastes like shit."

"And you, Dasha-"

"Oh no. Aleksenko isn't joining us. Now, hop along before I have to chase you around the gardens with my father's sabre again."

"Sasha! I was eight!"

"And, from what I remember, you had stolen my sweets. Hop. Along. Make like a rabbit or I'll hunt you like one."

You spared a glance to Dasha, who just gave you an indulgent smile and inclined their head as a bow.

[nahoney22]

Hi! i love your writing and was wondering if you could do the tbb (or just tech if you dont wanna do all of them) reaction to their gender neutral S/O pulling out their old instrument or color guard equipment from their marching band days and practicing what they remember (i dont even know if star wars has an equivalent to marching band/color guard lol but i picked an old practice flag up for the first time since high school earlier and the thought popped into my head for this request..) feel free to disregard this if it’s not something you wanna write, keep up the amazing work!!

Colour Guard Memories

The Bad Batch Boys X GN!Reader

How The Bad Batch react to you pulling out your old instrument or colour guard equipment.

warnings: none, gender neutral reader, can be read as platonic or romantic, Batchers admiring/encouraging reader.

authors note: this is a really cute idea and sorry it has took so long to do anon. In the UK we don’t really have marching bands/ colour guards aside from royal parades from what I know so I’ve relied on Google to help me out 😅 enjoy!

Echo

"Think we've got everything?" Echo asks, sealing the final box of your belongings.

As you survey the sea of packed boxes, you're struck by the realisation of just how many possessions you've gathered over the years. It's only now, in the process of moving out of your family home, that the extent of it hits you. After what feels like an eternity of packing and stacking, you're finally done and you couldn’t be any more grateful for Echo's helping hand.

"I hope so," you reply, wiping your brow and straightening up, hands on your hips. "Now, all that's left is to get it onto the ship." The prospect of lugging boxes onto the ship isn't exactly thrilling, but you're itching to kick back and relax.

Echo chuckles and reaches for one of the sealed boxes, but disaster strikes as the bottom gives way, sending its contents tumbling to the floor. "Well, that's just great," he says wryly.

Letting out a sigh, you join him in gathering up the scattered items. Amidst the chaos, something catches your eye: an old, familiar object. "No way!"

Startled by your sudden excitement, Echo turns to you. "What is it?"

"It's my Sabre!" you exclaim, holding up the cherished item for him to see.

He blinks in surprise. "Uh, your lightsaber?"

You playfully roll your eyes at Echo, a mischievous glint in your eyes, as you take the equipment into your hands and wave it at him. "You've known me long enough to know I'm not a Jedi, Echo," you tease, giving the Sabre a quick twirl. "It's from when I used to be be a colour guard for a marching band."

Echo chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. "I didn't know you did that."

"Yeah! I loved it. Want to see what I can still do?" you ask, a hint of excitement in your voice.

"The floor's all yours," he says, stepping back to give you space.

You take a moment to steady yourself, feeling the weight of the stainless steel Sabre in your hands. With a deep breath, you begin your routine, the familiar movements flooding back to you. As you twirl the Sabre with practiced precision, you can't help but feel a surge of nostalgia. However, in the midst of your performance, disaster strikes as the Sabre slips from your grip, narrowly missing a nearby window.

"Okay, okay, I'm a little rusty. Give me a second," you laugh sheepishly, quickly retrieving the saber and regaining your composure but Echo was still smiling and impressed throughout.

Determined to redeem yourself, you focus on each movement, executing smooth transitions and intricate spins. With each flourish, you feel a sense of satisfaction, the familiar rhythm of the routine bringing back fond memories. As you finally come to a graceful finish, you can't help but feel a sense of pride wash over you.

Echo applauds, a smile playing on his lips. "That was really impressive. You should've told me you could do that before."

"We all have our hidden talents," you grin, a twinkle in your eye as you admire the old memory in your hand before carefully tucking it back into the box. "Anyway, we should probably get going before I get distracted again."

“Well,” he says, resting a hand on your shoulder, “you should perform for me again sometime. If you want to that is.”

There’s a shine in his eyes, genuinely in awe of you and your talent. “I’ll definitely think about it.”

Hunter

Low on credits and desperate for some food to fill your stomachs, you and Hunter venture into a bustling market on a remote planet, hoping to find some opportunity to earn a bit of cash.

"See anything?" Hunter asks, strolling alongside you as you take in the sights and sounds of the market.

"Not really," you reply with a frown. The market is dimly lit, offering little in the way of useful materials, and the locals don't seem particularly welcoming. It's no wonder Hunter insisted on accompanying you.

But then, something does catch your eye. "Hey, that looks like one of my old flags," you remark, pointing to a colorful flag tucked away at the back of a small pop-up stall.

Hunter stops beside you, his interest piqued. "You used to spin those, didn't you?"

You chuckle at his phrasing, yet surprised that he remembers since it was just something you mentioned in passing once. "Yeah, I did. Not sure if I still have the touch, though."

A smirk spreads across Hunter's face as he holds up a finger, indicating for you to wait a moment. A bit embarrassed, you watch as he approaches the seller and strikes up a conversation. After a brief exchange, Hunter returns, flag in hand. "Let's put that theory to the test, shall we?" he suggests with a grin.

"Hunter! Did you just pay for that?" you exclaim incredulously as he shoves the pole into your hand.

"No," he says with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "But they said if you can impress them, you can keep it."

You narrow your eyes at him, a mixture of amusement and disbelief dancing in your gaze. "Fine. But I'm warning you," you declare, stepping into a clearing and scanning the area to ensure there's enough space before attempting to recreate a routine you haven't performed in years. "I'm not as good as I used to be."

Taking a deep breath, you grip the pole firmly and let muscle memory take over as you start spinning the flag with practiced precision. The fabric unfurls in vibrant arcs, catching the sunlight and casting colorful patterns across the ground. With each twirl and flourish, you feel a surge of nostalgia as memories of your days in the colour guard come flooding back.

As you continue your impromptu performance, you can't help but lose yourself in the rhythm of the routine, the flag becoming an extension of your body as you spin and swirl with grace.

Hunter is watching you silently and appears to be actually enamoured by your performance. His eyes are wide in surprise.

When you finally come to a graceful finish, you turn to Hunter with a triumphant smile, the flag held aloft in your hand. "How's that for impressing them?" you ask, a hint of pride in your voice.

“That was… wow.” Is all he says, a proud smile on his face. He takes one look to the seller who just gives a brief nod. “And the flag is yours it seems.”

Hunter comes up beside you once more but you feel a tug on your top, turning to face a young child who was holding out credits to you. Bashfully, you accept and the credits swiftly came flooding in.

“Heh, seems like you still got it.” He nudges your side playfully.

This could be a pretty safe way to earn some extra credits it seems.

Wrecker

"Wrecker, come look at this!" you call out excitedly, beckoning your companion over.

With Wrecker's assistance in tidying up the Marauder and transferring some items to the Remora, you stumble upon an unexpected treasure: an old snare drum tucked away amidst the clutter.

"Woah, what's tha’?" Wrecker asks, intrigued, as he joins you on the floor, his eyes fixed on the instrument in your hands.

"I used to play it in a marching band. Forgot I even had it," you reply with a wistful smile, the memories of your band days flooding back, tinged with nostalgia and a touch of sadness for times gone by.

Wrecker notices the flicker of emotion on your face and decides to lift your spirits. "Well, go on then. Give us a beat," he encourages, nudging the drum closer to you and offering a drumstick.

You smile gratefully, feeling a rush of anticipation as you accept the drumstick from his outstretched hand and pick up the matching one from the ground. "Just so you know," you say with a playful glint in your eye, "it sounds much better in a chorus rather than individually."

With a deep breath, you position the drumsticks in your hands, feeling the familiar weight and texture of the material. Closing your eyes, you let muscle memory guide your movements as you begin to play. The rhythmic tapping of the drum reverberates through the air.

As you lose yourself in the music, your fingers move effortlessly across the drum's surface, producing a lively beat that echoes off the walls of the ship. With each stroke, super fast and then skilfully slow, you feel a sense of liberation.

Wrecker watches in awe, a grin spreading cross his face as he listens to the infectious rhythm you create. For a moment, all worries and cares fade away, replaced by the joy of listening to you play. Flourishing a finish, your cheeks warm to Wrecker applauding enthusiastically.

"Tha’ was amazing!" he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "You've still got it."

You grin, feeling a surge of pride at his words. "Thanks, Wrecker," you reply, a sense of contentment washing over you. "Maybe we should start our own band."

“Definitely!”

Tech

"Is this yours?" Omega's voice interrupts your thoughts, drawing your attention to the slim case she's holding. As you approach, a wave of nostalgia washes over you at the sight of the familiar case.

"I haven't seen this for a long time," you smile warmly, taking the case into your hands. Kneeling down, you blow the dust off and flip open the lid, revealing your old clarinet nestled inside.

Omega's eyes widen with curiosity as she peers at the instrument. "Wow, that's cool! Did you play it?"

You nod, a fond smile on your face. "Yeah, I used to. In a colour guard and in parades."

"Can you play something now?" she asks eagerly.

Before you can respond, Omega suddenly calls out, "TECH! COME HERE!"

Tech, engrossed in his data pad, looks up in surprise and heads your way. "What is the nature of my presence this time, Omega?"

Omega launches into an exaggerated explanation of your discovery and her request. "Listen to them play."

Tech adjusts his goggles and looks down at you with curious eyes. "I was not aware you could play any instrument."

"I haven't in a long time," you admit sheepishly, wiping the mouthpiece and adjusting the bridge keys. "But I can give it a try."

With a deep breath, you bring the clarinet to your lips and begin to play a soft, melancholic tune. The notes fill the air, weaving a gentle melody that seems to resonate with the quiet stillness of the surroundings. It was a gentle tune, a stark difference to the ones you played in parades.

As you play, you notice Tech glancing up from his data pad, his expression softening as he listens intently to the music. It's a rare sight to see him so engrossed in something other than his work, and you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that your music has captured his attention.

By the time you finish the piece, Tech is still watching you, a thoughtful look on his face.

Omega bursts into a loud applause meanwhile Tech smiled at you. “I would not mind you playing that whilst I do some repairs... it’s rather relaxing.”

Crosshair

“What are you doing?” Crosshair's voice breaks your concentration mid-performance, and you freeze as your arms flail, causing the wooden rifle to slip from your grasp and clatter onto the grass.

You spin to face the clone, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. "I found my old rifle from when I used to perform," you explain quickly, bending down to retrieve the prop. With a flick of your foot, you send it spinning into the air, catching it effortlessly as it falls back down. "Want to see?"

Crosshair eyes the rifle with a hint of intrigue, his skepticism giving way to mild interest. "Perform? Rifles are for shooting. Not messing around with.”

“It’s wood, idiot.” You knock on the equipment before you then shrug, a sheepish grin tugging at your lips. "Anyway, it’s called rifle spinning. I used to do it as part of a routine in a performance group. It's more about coordination and showmanship than anything else. Wanna see?” You ask again.

Crosshair nods slowly, his gaze lingering on the rifle as you twirl it expertly in your hands. He stands back as you shows off your moves and he couldn’t hide the small impressed smirk forming on his lips. "You’re quite impressive I’ll give you that. But don't let it distract you from our mission." The compliment was rare but not one you were going to refuse as you give him a smile of thanks. But, he was right. There were more pressing matters at large.

You chuckle, nodding in agreement as you secure the rifle back in its holster. "Of course not. Just a little trip down memory lane."

Masterlist

Tags:

@littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 7 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix x @mssbridgerton @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez @green-alm0nd

[web-novel-polls]

WN Rarepair Tournament

Please consider each rarepair and vote for the ship you like the best / find the most interesting / that compels you the most / etc.

[Please be kind and respectful in the notes. Anti-Propaganda is NOT allowed.]

🔽 Propaganda below 🔽

NieWangXian from Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (MDZS)

Characters: Nie Huaisang x Lan Wangji x Wei Wuxian

No propaganda submitted

NingSang / SangNing from Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (MDZS)

Characters: Nie Huaisang x Wen Ning

Submission: Pair the spares, yeah, but I think they'd be adorable together. Wen Ning needs someone to talk to so he's no longer the sad third wheel to Wangxian (thankfully he has A-Yuan and the juniors, but still) and Huaisang needs someone since he's now completed his revenge and that often leaves people feeling empty inside.

SangXian from Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (MDZS)

Characters: Nie Huaisang x Wei Wuxian

Submission: They were already bestie in their teen years and i really love the headcanon that when everyone had forsakes the yiling laozu, nhs had looked after him, squashed rumours, spread some to keep wwx safe, sent supplies, kept in touch via letters... lets also not forget if he wanted revenge for nmj, he couldve gotten it another way...bringing his long dead friend to life and making sure the resurrection terms were easy to fulfill, making sure the body oferre to him had potential to cultivate...yea i love that ship!

Fic Recs: heresy of the sun by tunnelOFdawn, when the caged bird sings by Laxruar

SangYu from Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (MDZS)

Characters: Nie Huaisang x Mo Xuanyu

No propaganda submitted

WangSang from Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (MDZS)

Characters: Lan Wangji x Nie Huaisang

Submission:

NHS uses LWJ's birth name to refer to him when introducing him.

“Not that old man,” Nie Huaisang replied. “The one you have to be careful of is his favorite disciple, Lan Zhan.”

Excluding him and Wei Wuxian, no one uses his birth name to refer to him. There's always a chance that they knew each other before they got their courtesies, perhaps due to the shared friendship between NMJ and LXC.

NHS brings that friendship up when explaining the Sabre Hall where he focuses most of the conversation in referring directly to LWJ, since it is his word he requires so that his clan secret does not get leaked. It implies a show of trust in him, considering his words that Lan Wangji has always been a man of his word. Feel free to imagine what other promises he is keeping for him!

It also bears true that it was also Lan Wangji who first recognises the scrap of clothing to belong to Nie Huiasang when they were investigating the Man Eating Castle rumors and it was in fact Lan Wangji who brought him to the inn for interrogation.

Nie Huiasang's plan for starting the investigation for his brother's death involved endangering Lan disciples when they would be out helping the Mo Manor to take care of the walking corpse issue. Obviously, this was to bring Lan Wangji into the fray. His reputation of going after all cases without prejudice, and of being ruthless in executing his own ideal of justice are all well known. Nie Huiasang planned for him to solve the case and gain the ear of Lan Xichen and the wider cultivation world, so that they would side against Jin Guangyao and hopefully end him, effectively completing his revenge.

Outside of that, the personalities are more of opposites at first glance. Lan Wangji is diligent in his cultivation training while detesting laziness and has a very straightforward approach to how he approaches problems. Nie Huiasang fools around all the time and doesn't seem to care about the values Lan Wangji holds close, and has a twisted way of solving things.

Yet, when their loved one is harmed, they would go to all lengths to right the wrong as they personally see fit. Lan Wangji fights 33 elders to keep Wei Wuxian safe, and later in the present time he always sticks to him and stands against the world out of love and faith. Nie Huiasang brings down one of the most powerful people in the cultivation world by years of methodical planning, not caring about the wider consequences of his actions.

They are deeply selfish people, who when they care for one thing, the world ceases to exist for them.

Narrow minded focus, and a case between them and a ruthlessness in their actions and an implied past—I think they could have great chemistry if explored further.

XiSang from Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (MDZS)

Characters: Lan Xichen x Nie Huaisang

No propaganda submitted