#the fuck is Rempe even doing???

[lunar-racing]

I didn’t watch the Devils game bc I had some AP Chem stuff due but uh- What the fuck do you mean there’s a point in the game where every player on the ice got into a fight- and then the refs put 1 person in each penalty box and the rest of them in the change room…

I DO SCHOOL WORK FOR ONE NIGHT WITHOUT HOCKEY AND THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED-

If anyone has anymore details abt this I’d love to know cause what the fuck happened-

[tkachukisms]

my mind is a beautiful place full of love | last post :)

[pucked-bunnie]

menace ⎜l.hughes

pairings: luke hughes x reader ⎜ ft matt rempe prompt: "back the fuck off" genre: fluff ⎜established relationship ⎜ warnings: matt rempe being a menace as per usual ⎜angry luke ⎜protective bf luke ⎜mentions of fighting ⎜insults towards reader and luke ⎜ synopsis: you never realised your boyfriend could get so fired up by a simple little comment. word count: 3.6k authors note:  this was requested a while ago and was the clear winner of the poll I put up so I hope you all enjoy. also don't pay too much attention to the timeline it is less than accurate.

(UNEDITED)

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Luke doesn’t know a lot about many things. 

But he does know a lot about hockey. 

His life has always been about hockey - sleep, eat, hockey, repeat - so when he met you it was refreshing to not have to live for hockey. 

It was refreshing to live for him. 

The first time the two of you had met, you were sitting at the only table with a free seat in the library - Lukes textbook for his sports management classes in his arms as he looks around for any other possibilities, not wanting to disturb the brunette girl with her nose in her own textbooks. 

“You can sit down, you know.” Your voice was quiet, and at first he was sure he had imagined it and continued glancing around for other seats. “I’m not going to bite.” You added as you pushed your headphones off your head, glancing away from your books at the lost boy. 

Lukes eyes shoot to yours, his head nodding quickly as he shuffles over to the seat, his shoulders rising in a cringe as his textbooks drop on the table - the bang resonating through the library, a few heads turning his way as he quickly slides into the chair. You watch him as he opens his text book staring at the page for a few moments before pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“You good there, curly?” Luke's eyes raise to meet yours, your head tilted in amusement as you glance down at his books and then back up at him. 

“This class was supposed to be easy.” He admits slowly, sighing as a smile blooms on your face - your hand flicking closed your textbook, the front cover matching his. 

“Super easy.” You admit, as you close your laptop, your headphones are still around your neck as you scoot your chair around the round table to look down at his notebook. “You’re a bit behind on the lessons?” You question, noting his notes are from a class over two weeks ago. 

“I get caught up with sports sometimes.” He can’t help the goosebumps that rise as your arm brushes over his - reaching to flick his textbook back a few chapters. 

“You do know that the student comes first in the name student athlete?” Your words are sharp but the smile on your face lessens the blow, his head nodding quickly again - and he’s sure there’s a dumb glazed look in his eyes. 

“I can help you out if you want.” Lukes never agreed to something quicker in his life - his hand shooting out to shake yours as he almost yells his name in introduction - he repeats your name under his breath a few times after you return his introduction not wanting to forget anything about you. 

Months passed quickly - the two of you meeting up at least once a week to go over the material you had learnt in class, making sure Luke was understanding everything - even going as far as to FaceTime when the team was on road trips. 

It was a Thursday afternoon - the two of you sitting on Luke's small bed in his dorm room, textbooks splayed on the bed though neither of you were paying much attention to them. Luke's attention was focused on the hockey game on his laptop, and your attention was focused on him. 

“Hey, Luke?” You call quietly, his eyes never leaving the screen as he hums in response - his body tensing every time one of the players in red get close to the goal. “When are you going to ask me on a date?” Luke doesn’t look at you, but you can tell his attention is no longer on the hockey game in front of him - the goal horn blaring as he sits frozen on his bed. 

“You’d want that?” He finally asks, his voice cracking as his head lifts to slowly close his computer, his hands gripping the cold metal as he waits for your response. 

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want it.” Luke can feel his heart burst in his chest, your hand reaching out, a gentle finger on his chin turning his head towards you - “ask me.” You say firmly, his eyes locked with yours as you wait for his brain to reboot. 

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” He asks, the words falling out of his mouth before his brain can catch up. 

“I would love to go on a date with you, Luke.” 

+

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It’s funny how true the silly little saying your parents teach you as a kid can be so true. 

Time really does fly when you’re having fun. 

It also flies when your boyfriend gets called up into the professional hockey league and has to leave you behind. 

“Did you watch the game today?” Luke asks through your phone, his small face on your phone propped up beside you on your desk, his hair wet from his shower post game, a soft glow on his skin as he smiles at you when you’re not looking. 

“Of course.” You say, jotting something in your notebook before closing it softly, “I also watched when you almost got your back broken by being hit into the bench.” You huff, a frown on your face as you glance over your boyfriend. Luke's smile drops a little, as he sits up in his bed, watching as you wipe at your face roughly. 

“I just worry about you, Luke.” You say quietly, your eyes teary - Luke can feel his heart stop as he looks around his room in panic, for what no one knows. Luke feels his chest tighten as you let a small sniffle escape before wiping at your face again. 

“When are you going to ask me to be with you?” Luke never knows what to do when you ask questions like this - his response typically falling under a freeze response, his brain moving slower than normal when you catch him by surprise. 

“You’d want that?” He asks, the deja vu settling in his bones as he adds, “What about school?” 

“I’m doing a degree in business management, Luke - I can do that online if I wanted to.”  Luke feels like he’s going to have long term effects if you keep making his heart stop and start like this - the deja vu hitting again as you add, “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want it.” 

Luke feels like he’s going to explode as he yanks his laptop from where it is charging, looking up flights and hotels as quickly as possible. 

Luke doesn’t know a lot about many things. 

But he knows he would pay whatever he had to, to have you here with him - to be able to entwine his two favorite things in his life together. 

+

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The last six months have been a crash course in ice hockey - after the play off season had ended with an unfortunate loss Luke had dragged you to Michigan for the summer, wasting no time in introducing you to his whole family and everyone around who would listen. 

His two older brothers had put in the work to sit you down every night after dinner. A game from the previous season loaded onto the T.V a notebook in your lap as Luke slipped onto the couch behind you - his hand fiddling with whatever they could latch onto. 

“Okay so what is it called if one player insults another player?” Jack quizzes, the video paused on his captain's mouth open mid yell. 

“Chirping?” You say Jack giving a strong nod and a smile, resuming the video. 

“And what do we do when someone chirps us?” Jack asks, his smile mischievous as he waits for you to respond. 

“Chirp back?” You assume, Jack clapping his hands together in joy as Luke shakes his head behind you - leaning forwards to pull your short hair out of its bun. 

“No, we ignore it.” Luke corrects, his fingers gentle on your scalp as he detangles the knots left in your hair from the day on the boat. 

“That’s not fun, Lukey.” Jack huffs, looking over to his older brother for back up, Quinn just throwing his hands up with a shrug. 

“I think ignoring it is a better answer.” Quinn says softly, his attention solely on his phone. 

“Alright let’s watch something else - I think she knows everything she can.” Luke says pulling the remote from Jack's hand as he exits off the hockey game, pulling up Netflix to scroll through. His arm banded around your waist as he pulls you to lie back against him, a blanket thrown over the two of you as his brother argues over what to watch. 

“The post is blowing up, Luke.” You say quietly, showing him the notifications on your phone - Luke had posted an instagram story early, undeniably hard launching the relationship into the public - both of you had expected some attention but this had been more than anything you would imagine. 

“It’ll settle down eventually - you’re lucky Jack hasn’t posted anything, that would probably make your phone crash.” You let out a small chuckle, leaning into Luke further as you scroll through your notifications trying to clear your inbox as much as possible. 

“Hold up, who’s that?” Luke asks as you stop scrolling through your inbox, clicking on the message he pointed at. “Matt Rempe? Why does that sound so familiar?” Luke questions as you click on his profile scrolling through the photos in confusion. 

“You mean the giant kid who was just signed to the rangers?” Jack asks, his attention momentarily leaving the movie trailer Quinn was showing on his phone to respond to Luke. 

“How do you know that?” Luke asks, his brother just shrugging in response. “What did he say?” Luke asks as you swipe back to the message reading over the words with a frown. 

“Hey, how’s heaven handling things now that you’ve left?” You read aloud, Quinn letting out a loud snort and Jack's mouth falling open in surprise. “Oh dear god, that’s bad.” You sigh, moving to delete the message before Luke’s hand stops you, his hand swiping the phone from your hand as his fingers tap on the screen. 

“Luke, what are you doing?” You hiss, watching as he types out a message before deleting it and starting again “What happened to ignoring it?” 

“This is off the ice - you don’t hit on other players' girlfriends.”  Luke types again before hitting send on the one sentence message. 

‘She has a boyfriend.’ You roll your eyes before snatching your phone back, the device dinging as you place it back in your lap. Luke looks at you expectantly as you pick up your phone again showing him the response. 

‘We’ll see about that.’ 

“He’s messing with you Luke, just leave it.” You say, blocking the players profile before turning off your phone and tucking it under the blanket before he can type out more messages to his fellow rookie player. 

The message echoes around Lukes head for the rest of the night - the man shocked by his fellow players' audacity. 

Luke doesn’t know a lot about many things. 

But he knows about hockey - and you don’t go after another player's girlfriend. 

+

+

The season started off tense - with most of New Jersey’s star players out with injuries the team was scraping by on wins - only just managing to pull ahead towards the end of each game. 

The most anticipated game of the season slowly sneaking up behind every one - the New Jersey Devils against the New York Rangers - normally a big rivalry but this year everything seemed more tense - especially with the rising enforcer of the New York Rangers making his presence and dislike for the New Jersey Devils team known. 

“Everything will be fine.” You reassure Luke for the hundredth time, squeezing his hand once more before releasing it to fall back to his side, his face falling as he stares down at his empty palm. “I’ll meet you in the locker room after you take the arrival photos.” You say softly, before leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek, smoothing out his unruly curls before giving him one last smile. 

He watches as you walk away, greeting some of the staff you pass as you move to where the other family members were gathering to wish their player good luck before the game. You lean against the wall as you scroll absentmindedly on your phone, occasionally adding something to the conversation going on around you, each of the wags splitting off towards their players as they make their way to the locker room. 

“Excuse me?” A deep voice says from behind you, a large hand tapping on your shoulder. You turn slowly your head lifting as you glance up at the abnormally large man, his face immediately flagging recognition in your memory. “Are you a keyboard?” He asks quickly - your brows pulling together as you frown. 

“What?” You respond. 

“Are you a keyboard?” He tries again, waiting for a few moments before adding, “because I think you’re just my type.” You can’t help the scoff that comes out of you, physically cringing at the pick up line. 

“Wait, I have more.” He exclaims quickly, a soft smile on your face as you shake your head. 

“I’m aware - I’m pretty sure heaven is fairing pretty well without me.”  Your retort seems to strike something in the man's memory, his mouth falling open in surprise before a slow grin grows back in its place. “You’ve really lived up to your name as hockey’s new menace.” You add, glancing over your shoulder to see Luke making his way up to the locker room. 

“Ah so you’ve been watching me?” Matt’s confidence in himself is jarring, your frown deepening as you shake your head. 

“Unfortunately for me, you seem to pop up in a lot of conversations about my boyfriend.” You say quietly, “Maybe it was due to your blatant disrespect for your fellow rookie players in this league.” Matt hesitates for a second, his eyes grazing over your face for any sign that you were joking. 

“You’re not my type, and frankly I was hoping you got the message when I blocked you, but clearly your thick head isn’t good for anything other than fighting.” You add, and you know you shouldn’t be adding fuel to the fire but you just can’t help it. 

“Everything okay over here?” Luke's voice is like dousing fire with water, his hand smoothing over your back to sit against your hip as he slides up beside you.

“You should keep your girl on a tighter leash.” Matt speaks before you can reassure your boyfriend, “Seems like she’d jump ship to anyone offering her a good time.” You can feel Luke tense beside you, a few of his team mates pausing in their movement, watching their rookie player glare up at the intruder. 

While Luke has always been considered in the group of larger hockey players - Matt was on a whole other level. 

“What did you just say about her?” 

“You heard what I said - your girlfriend is a whore.” You flinch at the words, your arm looping around Luke’s back to grab hold of his suit jacket hoping he was smart enough not to engage with the larger man. 

“What are you gonna do about it?” Matt continues his taunting, your gaze flicking over your shoulder hoping to catch the attention of another person. 

Luke takes in a deep breath, rolling his eyes before stepping away from you a little, his hands moving you behind him slightly as he moves toe to toe with the fighter. “Look, back the fuck off dude. She said she wasn't interested and I’m not interested in paying a fine for bothering with someone like you.” 

You let out a sigh of relief as one of the older players steps up besides you, pulling you a step further away from the pair, his own glare set on the two boys. 

“This can be dealt with on the ice.” Kurtis says roughly, tugging on Luke’s arm to break contact, the rookie quickly following the wordless instructions of his veteran teammate. “Forget what you said about her…” Kurtis pauses, waiting for Luke to object before adding, “Why don’t you fight someone your own size?” You can see the anger rolling off the two rookies as they finally nod at each other in understanding, Matt glaring at the three of you before turning towards the away team locker room. 

“Leave him for me, Kid.” Kurtis says quickly as Luke turns towards him, adding “You’re not a fighter, Luke. We need you to be able to play.” Luke nods hesitantly, the two of you watching as Kurtis kisses his wife quickly before moving into the locker room, your gaze turning up to your boyfriend. 

“He’s right, you know.” You say. 

“I know.” Luke agrees, leaning down to give you a chaste kiss on your cheek before following after his team mate. 

“Play safe.” The words falter as Kurtis’s wife thread her arm through yours - reassuring you everything will be okay. 

“Kurtis will sort that kid out.” She says quickly, the cheeky gleam in her eyes.

The pre game warm ups move quickly - both teams seemingly tense on the ice, neither making much contact with each other, Luke goes through his normal motions, his body seeming no looser than before as he exits the ice to walk back into the locker room. 

“Why do I have a feeling this is going to be bad?” You ask the wives and girlfriends besides you - all of them agreeing with your gut feeling, all of you tense in your seats as you watch the teams take the ice again - a strange mix of players starting for New Jersey - Luke steaming from the bench as he watching the referee talk to the players at center ice. 

It’s not clear who starts it from where you’re sitting - but as soon as the puck hits the ice, chaos breaks out - each of the ten players on the ice matching up a five on five brawl sprawling across the ice. Most of the fights end quickly, each player slowly making their way to the penalty box as they get pulled apart by the officials, but one match up continues. 

Matt and Kurtis go head to head for over five minutes - both teams cheering them on the pounding of sticks on the boards echoing through the arena. Finally the two get pulled apart and to everyone's joy Kurtis comes away relatively unharmed - the other team's rookie seeming to have gotten the worst of the hits in the fight. 

You watch Luke yell something across the ice as Matt is dragged from the ice the two of them yelling at each other back and forth until Luke’s captain pats his shoulder gently, motioning for him to calm down.  

The game continues tensely - the ejected players cleaning themselves up before joining your group in the family area, Kurtis patting your shoulder gently as you thank him for stepping in. 

“The kid needing a proper welcome to the NHL - I’m glad I was the one to give it to him.” Kurtis says quietly, before adding, “Luke’s pretty fired up, try to get him home in one piece.” 

The game finishes with a loss for the Devils, everyone disappointed but unable to wipe the smiles off their faces as they reminisce on the earlier fight - everyone wanting to share their point of view. Luke pushes his way out of the locker room, his face set in a deep frown as he reaches his hand out for yours, his shoulder dropping a little as you squeeze your hand in his. 

“You need to relax and try not to crash on the way home.” You comment as you both get into the car. Luke lets out a long groan before flopping against the driver's seat.  

“I feel like such a wimp.” Luke’s words surprise you, your boyfriend had never had much interest in fighting before definitely being a lover and not a fighter. 

“Why?” 

“Because I let another player fight my battle.” You let out a snort of a laugh. 

“That’s his job, Luke.” Your boyfriend flicks his faze over to you, “He’s supposed to give and take the hits to keep the best players on the ice, I think Kurtis had more fun than anyone else that player today.” You continue, reaching over to pull on one of the curls sitting on his forehead. 

“It’s not a bad thing to know when to fight and when you’re outmatched - Matt is a fighter and knows what he’s doing and you’d be stupid to think you could take him on.” Your words are harsh, just like they were when you had first met - but the blow is softened as you smile softly as the man sitting next to you. 

“I’m proud of you for choosing the high road - he’s a meat head hockey player who’s got more brawn than skill - but you have talent and it would’ve been a shame to see you waste it all for one stupid fight.” Luke nods slowly at your words, turning his head to press a kiss against your palm before turning back to the front of the car. 

“Okay, I think it’s safe to drive now.” He jokes, his posture far more relaxed than it was before. 

Luke doesn’t know a lot about many things. 

But he knows that he would do anything for you. Even get in a stupid fight.

[turcott3]

made for me

matt rempe x fem! reader

warnings: cursing, kissing, oral f and m receiving, protected sex, pet names, fluff

masterlist

-

you giggled at the soft feeling of the bed after matt tossed you onto it, climbing over you, attaching your lips desperately but lovingly. you were both dressed and ready for bed but it seemed you were both far from ready to sleep.

you haven’t been with matt for more than 2 months and if you were honest, you were afraid to get physical with him due to his size. which always sounded stupid coming out, but matt is a giant, beautiful, brunette monster. you couldn’t even fathom the things he would do to you, but tonight things felt different. sex was in the air looming over the two of you. the way his soft lips tangled themselves with yours sent butterflies through your body. you admired the was the light chiseled his abdomen and the way his grey sweatpants made you nervous to have him pummeling deep inside you. you weren’t sure how much you could handle.

“baby.” he says picking his head up and locking eyes with you.

“hm?”

“can we?”

“matt im-“

“baby please, i just want to love you. i want to show you, in more than just words, how beautiful you are and i know you’re afraid but i promise i’ll be so careful. i’ll take such good care of you my love.”

“you promise?” you reply, the fear wasn’t coming from a place of unknown. you weren’t a virgin, you’d just never dated a 6 foot 7 beefy athlete before.

“i promise. i would never hurt you. if it’s too much tell me and i’ll stop okay? i want you to be comfortable.”

“okay.” you accept smiling lightly, watching your boy’s eyes light up made your heart jump in your chest. you knew he was romantic and truthfully you were beyond excited to explore further into your relationship, fears aside. you also, subconsciously, loved the way he was begging for you. the way he’d just begged to touch and love you made you crave him in ways you hadn’t before.

“my beautiful baby.” he smiles, attaching your lips in a kiss that you swore could’ve caused a spark that set the whole room on fire. he toyed with the seam of your large tshirt, allowing him to tug it off you carefully, hardly losing touch.

“to make this even, let’s lose these.” you giggle as you sat there in only your thong, tugging at the waistband of his dreadful sweatpants. he smirks at you before pulling them down, keeping eye contact with you. he stepped back out of his pants and looked you up and down. you become painfully aware of your bare chest and fight the urge to cover up.

“wow.” he scoffs.

“what?” you reply nervously.

“this was so worth waiting for, look at you. fucking gorgeous.” he smiles as your cheeks heat up.

“stop it matt.”

“what? i’m just stating the obvious.” he giggles, walking back over to you, kissing you with more passion than you’ve ever felt. his hand found its way into your hair, grabbing into it lightly,

“okay, what do you want to do?” he asks randomly.

“what do you mean?”

“like do you want to go a little further?”

“yes.” you simply say.

“lay back for me.” he says and you comply. delicately, he pulls your underwear down and your breath hitches in your throat at the sudden contact between your legs. his large hands wrapping around the outside of your thighs as his tongue pays close attention to your clit.

“oh fuck.” you say, your abdomen tightening as your hand tugs the brunettes hair. the way he paid such close attention to your pleasure. you were creeping close to the edge, you could feel yourself coming close to a climax.

“matt-“ you say and he backs off quickly, wiping his mouth with his arm.

“why’d you stop?” you frown.

“i don’t want you to get off on just that.” he giggles. you reach out and grab his face, bringing his lips back to yours.

“let me.” you say pushing him away. setting in the edge of the bed, yanking his boxers down. your eyes widened at the sight in front of you.

“holy shit.” you whisper to yourself before taking him into your hand, stroking him fully hard. you bring his tip to your lips as you push spit through your lips, circling the saliva with your tongue, striking him wet with your hand.

“jesus christ.” he groans looking down at the sight below him. he gathers your hair behind your head carefully, not pushing you. you lock eyes with him as you take him fully into your mouth, pushing your limits, holding your thumb to attempt to keep yourself from gagging. somehow, your lips almost touch the base of his cock. not once losing eye contact, your eyes well up with tears. fighting the urge to gag you remove him from your mouth, stroking him with your hand completely out of air.

“no more.” he says quietly, using two fingers to guide your chin back to his lips.

“but why?” you pout.

“because.” he giggles, making his point very clear as he drags his fingers through your soaking folds.

“promise you’ll go slow?”

“yes baby, i promise.” he smiles, grabbing a condom from his drawer.

“give me that.” you say. he hands you the condom and you carefully tear it open, rolling it onto his thick cock.

“lay back my love.” he says fluffing the pillows behind you before you lean back. he lines himself up with you, pushing in slowly. you gasped at the way he stretched you out, moaning out in pleasure. once he bottoms out, you can feel your stomach bulging.

“god matt you’re so big.” you gasp, running light fingers over the bulge which directed his attention to it.

“i’m all yours.” he smirks, using one hand to lift your head to meet his in the middle, connecting your lips sensually. slowly, he retracts his hips, thrusting back into you at the same speed. you couldn’t lie and say you were t enjoying the sensation of him being almost too big for you.

“are you okay?” he asks keeping his speed.

“yes baby, you can go faster.” you say, becoming anxious for him to speed up. carefully, he speeds up just enough for your moans to practically become cries.

“oh my god.” you say, your moans snapping up an octave.

“i love you.” he says lowly, his face inches away from yours.

“i love you too.” you choke out, your eyes fighting the urge to roll into the back of your head. he hit every single sensitive spot inside you, practically overwhelming all of your senses.

“matt.” you moan, your fingers scratching his back harshly.

“god fuck, say it again.” he grunts, picking up his pace.

“oh my fucking god, matt you feel so good,” you moan upon his request.

“i’m close.” you whisper just barely audible due to the loud sound of your skin slapping together.

“come for me baby. just let go.” he says, sucking at the skin in your neck as the line snaps in your stomach, releasing all of your tightened muscles, a galaxy forming in your eyes as he fucks you right through your orgasm. he slows down quickly, pulling out of you, still stroking his cock. hazily, you get into your knees and pull the condom off of him, quickly taking him back into your mouth. you sucked in your cheeks, paying close attention to his sensitive tip. you pull away, stroking him with pressure until you felt his cock twitch in your hand. you open your mouth immediately, allowing him to spill his salty climax into your tongue, locking eyes with him as you swallow every last drop of it. with daze in your eyes, you lay back down not worrying about your clothes.

“you okay baby?” he giggles, taking his place next to you, running a finger lightly down your arm.

“that was fucking incredible, you’re incredible.” you say rolling over to face him. he smiles at your words, bringing you in for a kiss before pulling you to his chest. the warmth of his bare skin, lulling you to a sleepy state.

“can we go to sleep now? you wore me out.” you ask, cuddled to his side.

“of course y/n.” he says pressing a kiss to your temple.

“i hope i dream about you.” you mumble closing your eyes.

“me too.” he giggles as your breathing slows.

“my beautiful beautiful baby. i love you so much.” he whispers into your hair, your heart fluttering, falling asleep very quickly after.

-

[chukys-mouthguard]

I know youve probably been getting a ton of rempe request which I have to add to it too (I’m so sorry) but a good enemies to lovers with a bit of angst would be 😮‍💨

Party’s Over

Words: 3.49k

Featuring: matt rempe x female reader

Genre: angst, fluff; enemies to lovers

Summary: who the fuck invited matthew rempe to your birthday party?

“So, guess what Braden just told me.”

Your friend setting her phone down after reading a text from her boyfriend, an awkward smile on her face. “No, absolutely not, tell him no!”

Not needing her to even give the answer you were already fully aware of what Braden had said. But there was no way in hell you were okay with it.

“If those boys dare to bring Matthew Rempe to my apartment, they are going to get beers thrown in all of their faces!” She laughed as you pointed to the case of beers you were getting unboxed into an ice bucket for the guys to dig into once they arrived. The rest of the girls just silently munching on chips and queso as they all knew this saga between you and Rempe all too well. And as much as they would love for you to join the club and start dating a Ranger like the rest of them, they weren’t planning on that being Matt.

While you loved all of their boyfriends, the one Ranger you couldn’t stand was Matt Rempe. From the day you two met he had gone out of his way to be nothing but a dick to you. Constantly ragging on you, taking jokes too far, and now he was going to be in your apartment. No doubt any little action of his would piss you off to your maximum, simply because he was in your place.

“Look, it’s your birthday, I don’t think he will be an asshole to you today. Plus, they are already on their way here. What are they gonna do, throw him out of the car?” “Yes! That sounds like a great plan!” Rolling your eyes you finished setting up the appetizers and drinks before the guys arrived.

“Hello hello? We heard there’s a birthday going on?” Vinny Trochek called out before the boys filed into your apartment, each of them with a significant other soon joining them, the few single guys and girls introducing themselves as everyone was grabbing drinks and getting food.

You had greeted everyone but were also too preoccupied with being a host, in hopes that it would distract you from how angry you were with Matt being in your apartment.

“Y/n…it’s your party and you’re making drinks for people. What the fuck? Go drink, mingle.” Braden’s girlfriend quick to take the bottle of Tito’s from your hand and push you toward the kitchen island, your sudden presence stopping a conversation between Matt and Chris Kreider. “Oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?” You glared at Matt, your tone a bit harsh as he sipped his beer. “Actually yeah, Matt was just saying how good you look tonight.”

Shaking his head in protest, Matt quickly swallowed down his beer, “more like the opposite. I said no such thing, don’t flatter yourself.” He smirked at you while Chris just shook his head, hating the constant immature bickering between the two of you.

“How about, you take that beer bottle, and show it up your ass Rempe? I think that would be such a fun party trick.” Flashing a fake smile you quickly left the kitchen, heading to your bedroom to cool off.

Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you began to second guess your outfit.

knock knock

“Y/n, what’s up? Chris said you stormed off after Matt made some smartass comment. Are you okay?”

“Do I look okay? Like, should I be wearing something different?” Chris’s wife Francesca rolling her eyes as she took a seat on your bed. “Really? Rempe said shit about your outfit and now you want to change? Have you ever thought that maybe the two of you just need to fuck and get it over with or something? I really think this whole act you’ve got going on needs to stop.”

Ignoring her comments completely, you went right to your closet, pulling out a white short sleeved bodysuit and a new pair of jeans. Quickly pulling them on and then pairing them with some heeled black boots.

“Okay, thoughts?”

Francesca lightly chuckling at how self conscious you’d become the second Matt said anything negative about how you looked. “I mean, you look hot as fuck. But, I feel like you’re trying to look good for him now.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m simply just trying to look hot and make him eat his words. And if the boy starts drooling about my tits practically being on display, that’s his problem not mine. Now let’s go do a shot!”

After you reappeared from your bedroom, newly clothed, you couldn’t help but notice how Matt’s demeanor had changed. He kept his distance and didn’t say a word to you. Though he didn’t have to, his eyes on you almost constantly and you were happy to know he was eating his words.

Three rounds of shots later, everyone was piling into Uber’s to head out, of course everyone finding it funny to put you and Matt in the same car, as well as make you both sit in the back seat together. Keeping your back somewhat to him, you tried to not as much as bump him with an arm or a leg, though his hand had tapped you multiple times as his arm was draped across the back on the seat.

Once at your destination you quickly pulled out your lip gloss and turned on your front camera to aid in your application.

“You know, I never understood the point of lip gloss. Like, it’s just gonna come off on your drinks or when you kiss someone.”

Matt practically whispered in your ear as he peeked his face into the view of your camera, making you roll your eyes. “Yeah well,” turning to face him, you hadn’t noticed how close his face was to yours, causing you to swallow a breath, “guess you’re in luck, I definitely won't be kissing you tonight.”

The group headed inside the club, having a table reserved at the back as to hopefully not draw too much attention having a handful of the Rangers with you. Everyone getting comfortable and situated with drinks as you threw back a few shots to erase the backseat interaction with Matt from your mind. This was your birthday, you were not going to let that cocky asshole ruin it.

The night had so far consisted of Vinny Trocheck getting so drunk he attempted to dance shirtless in your section, Chris and Matt competing to see who could chug their beers the fastest, and you losing track of just how many drinks and shots you’d had. But one thing you knew for sure was that you were about to pee your pants.

“I’ll be right back, bathroom.”

Slowly making your way through the crowd by yourself, Matt’s eyes followed you, making sure you made it to your destination. “Dude, cut the shit. This tough guy act, being dick to her. It’s not working for you.” Matt scoffed, taking a sip of his beer, “Krieds, I have no clue what you’re talking about.” He tried denying it, but Chris could see exactly what Matt thought he was doing. And despite his efforts, majority of the guys could see right through him. “All I’m saying is, for someone who dislikes her so much, you sure do care a lot making sure she made it to the bathroom safely.”

“Look, there’s a difference between me not liking the girl but knowing how to be a decent human being. Should I want her to not make it safely? Gosh Krieds now you sound like the asshole.” Matt attempted to put an end to the conversation, turning away from Chris, though keeping an eye on the bathroom.

After what felt like a thirty minute wait, you were able to evade peeing your pants in public and were headed back to your party. Though not before a drunk guy could try and creep on you, immediately making you remember why you didn’t go out to clubs anymore.

“Hey beautiful, you here alone?”

“Nope, actually here with friends.” Flashing a soft smile you attempted to brush past him in the hall, but he moved with you. “Oh, so you’re the one celebrating a birthday. How about I get you a drink?” Again flashing a smile you shook your head, “no thank you, we are stocked on drinks. I’m good.” The drunken man catching up to you as you could barely maneuver your way through the crowd. His hand snaking around your waist as he pulled you into him. “How about more than just a drink then?”

Immediately pushing against his chest to get out of his grip, you questioned the man but he didn’t let go. However soon enough, another arm reaching around to pull you free, to which you were surprised. Ready to thank the individual who likely saw the event and stepped in, until you saw the face of Matt Rempe appear next to you.

“Pretty sure that’s not any way to treat a lady. You wanna tell me why you put your hands on her?” Rolling your eyes you didn’t bother to stick around for Matt to be the hero and ask for your praises. Matt noticed you run off, but made sure the drunken man wouldn’t cause any more trouble for the night. Heading back to the table and immediately downing a shot before asking your friends to dance.

It was now 2am and you were down for the count, not able to hold your head up and just wanting food and your bed. Your friends helping you to your uber as everyone was more than happy to head home for the night. None of them partying like this in awhile and already anticipating the hangovers that were on the horizon.

“Okay, so as much as I want to take y/n up to her bed, I’ve got to get Chris home before he’s knocked out and I can’t deal with him alone.”

Francesca doing her best to keep Chris awake next to her as you were in the back seat once again with Matt, though you were oblivious to that as you were asleep with your head on his shoulder. “I can take her.”

Francesca a bit shocked at Matt’s offer to help. “You sure you’re not just gonna take her up there and draw on her face or something to mess with her?”

“Oh come on, I’m not that much of an asshole.”

Matt laughed, shaking his head as he looked down at you sleeping.

“Y/n…Y/n, wake up. We are back at your apartment.” Your eyes slowly fluttered open as Matt was attempting to help you out of the Uber. “I can do it myself.” Pulling your arm away from him as you were adamant about getting yourself inside, though only stumbling up the sidewalk and practically breaking your ankle in the process. “Y/n, just let Matt help you please. I gotta get Chris home before he’s sleeping on the street tonight. Stop hating him long enough for him to get you into bed.”

“I will never let this man get me into his bed!”

Francesca shaking her head with a sigh, “that is not what I meant, Jesus Christ…Matt, please let me know if you need anything. But I gotta get this man home.”

Matt laughed as Francesca guided a drunken Chris to their car, knowing that he would never let him live down this moment of being carried by his wife because he couldn’t hold his alcohol.

“Alright, let’s get this over with.”

Matt put a hand to your lower back as he helped guide you inside, trying his best to keep his distance so as to not upset you any more than he already had. The ride in the elevator was silent as you just stared at the numbers slowly counting up until you had reached your floor. Doing your best to walk to the door without issue, though now you were in for it as you tried to fumble with your keys and unlock it.

“Can I-” “No, I got it.”

Quickly opening the door you tossed your bag on the counter, soon collapsing on your couch. Not caring that the walk to your bed would have been only sixty seconds more, you needed to be horizontal and not in these boots any longer. Trying your best to kick off the boots, but having no luck, Matt soon came over to help. Your need for the boots to be off stronger than your want to be Miss Independent.

“I guess I will get you some water, heat up some of the food from earlier…”

His voice trailed off as he walked to the kitchen, your eyes opening to watch him. Why was he being nice all of a sudden? You didn’t like it, after he had made it his mission to be an asshole, all of a sudden he starts trying to be nice? He was clearly trying to get something out of you, praises or thanks for stepping up and taking care of you. Most likely to rub it in your face later and laugh at you for thinking he was a changed man or something.

“I don’t need your help, you know. I can do all of that myself.”

Matt just ignored you, continuing with making you a plate of food before he brought it over to you on the couch. He smiled softly as he held out the plate, and as much as you were starving, you couldn’t bring yourself to accept anything from him. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

He looked at you confused before setting the plate on the island in the kitchen. “Pretending like you care! Trying to be some hero and swoop in to save the day. You know what your problem is?”

“What’s my problem?” He leaned against the island, crossing his arms as he let you continue with airing your frustrations.

“You think that anyone is going to fall head over heels for you and just give you everything you want. You’re so full of yourself. And then, the second a girl doesn’t fold for you, you treat her like shit, like how you did with me. Do you know how annoying it is? Being friends with all those guys, and you’re the only one who hates me? Who talks shit about me, bashing me whenever he can? I fucking changed my outfit tonight because you made me feel like shit about myself! And for what? Because I didn’t drop my pants for you the first day we met or something? Get a fucking grip, and stop thinking so highly of yourself. I didn’t need your help at the bar, and I don’t need your help now if you’re only doing it to hold over my head later or try to use it against me. I don’t need you trying to embarrass me for ever thinking you were actually a nice guy and gave a shit. So if you’re only doing this to look good to everyone else, then please leave.”

You stomped off to your room to change, needing your jeans off and sweats on. Removing your bodysuit and replacing it with a hoodie, a deep sigh leaving your lips as you pulled the fabric over your head.

knock knock

“What!”

Glaring towards the door you saw Matt slowly appear from behind the frame. His demeanor a bit defeated as he tossed a small box onto your bed. “Here.…happy birthday. I’ll call an Uber then head out.”

Your angered facade fading as you looked from Matt to the small box on your bed. Only moving to open it once you’d heard him head back down the hall. As you untied the blue ribbon, you lifted the lid to reveal a beautiful necklace of your birthstone that you had been eyeing for months. Instantly your heart sank, regretting all the words you just spat at him. But, you weren’t actually feeling bad for Matt, or regretting something negative you said to him, you couldn’t. Because you were supposed to hate each other. Though this was an expensive ass gift for someone to buy if they hated you.

Setting the necklace down on your dresser, you darted out of your room and down the hall. Stopping in your tracks when you saw Matt still in your kitchen. “Sorry, I’m leaving, it's just raining and I figured I’d wait until my Uber got closer. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

He went back to his phone as you could tell he was embarrassed and upset. Clearly this not being how he planned for the night to go, and you shared in the embarrassment for all the things you’d just said.

“Matt….how did you?”

Playing with the hem of your hoodie you awkwardly closed the distance between the two of you, eventually resting on your forearms against your kitchen island.

“Francesca told me you’d been eyeing it for months. I asked what was something I could you for your birthday, I wanted it to be something nice, special. But, clearly I fucked that up because I’m such an asshole.”

He wasn’t even making eye contact, his voice low as he mumbled his responses, shrugging it off like it was nothing. But it was clearly something.

“I just, I don’t get it…why get me such a nice, thoughtful, expensive gift. If you hate me?”

Matt laughed, finally looking up from his phone. “You really don’t get it do you? I don’t hate you y/n, it’s actually quite the opposite. When Chris told you earlier I was talking about how good you looked, he wasn’t lying. I really did think you looked good. And I felt awful when you went and changed clothes. I mean, you still looked hot as hell, but I felt bad that you thought I really didn’t think you looked good.”

He locked his phone and set it on the island as he made his way over to you.

“I acted that way because I've never met a girl like you. For starters, you never seemed interested in me, and I didn’t know how to take that. You were hard to read, and I thought if I messed with you, I would learn your personality. But you only dished shit right back at me just as I gave it. So I thought you weren’t interested and truly did not like me. Not to mention, coming into this group of people, when everyone is close already. I was trying my best to fit in, but I’m awkward okay? I wanted you to like me, and I fucked that up, clearly!”

You laughed along with him as he ran a hand through his hair. “And, I thought tonight I would fix things. I’d be able to give you that gift, and apologize for all the shit I started. But then, you got so mad at me when I tried helping at the club. And then when we got back here, I know I brought it on myself with being such a dick. But, I figured, there was zero chance I even got to make this right.”

“Well…” You sighed as you walked closer to him, your brain still trying to make sense of all this. “How about we start over? Blank slate, and we can forget everything. Stop this pretending like we hate one another and just be ourselves?”

Holding out your hand, Matt smiled before accepting and shaking it. “I’m Matt.” “I’m y/n.”

The two of you chuckled to yourselves, soon moving to the couch after you’d reheated the food Matt got for you which was now cold.

“Oh, um, aren’t you gonna cancel your Uber?”

Matt looked at you with a sheepish grin, “I never called an Uber.”

Your jaw dropping to the floor as you punched his shoulder. “Oh, so somehow you just magically thought things were going to work out and we’d be sitting right here on this couch? You thought you could easily just win me over and get a second chance with me? Matthew Rempe I swear to-”

Before you could finish your threat, Matt had placed his lips on yours, cutting you off with a kiss. Though shocked by the action, you didn’t fight it. Relaxing into the kiss before he pulled away.

“I just figured, with that gift I got you we were a little past first introductions.”

“You know, you’re lucky your cute Matthew Rempe…”

“Oh, so you do think I’m cute? I knew it!” He shot you a cocky grin as he dipped a chip in some queso. “We still have plenty of beer bottles, don’t make me bash you on the head with one.”

“Sweetheart, I get punched in the face on almost a nightly basis, I think I could handle a little beer bottle.”

[mikkomacko]

Him and I - Broad Street Bullies

Mob Boss Nico Hischier x female reader

Warnings: kidnapping, cussing, blood, weapons, general violence and threats

A/n: She's finally here!! This is a blurb from the beginning months of Mob Boss Nico and reader's relationship. It is extremely long but I tried to keep it as short as possible without cutting out any pivotal moments or details. Also disclaimer, I have nothing against the Flyers and they're simply a plot tool in this.

Thanks for reading!

______________________________________________________________

The streets of Manhattan are busy, even with the chilly fall weather. The line outside of Lady Liberty stretches around the block, all the rich and famous of New York trying to get in.

Nico doesn’t care. He pushes through the groups of people, feels the weight of the gun in his waistband as he shoulders his way to the front of the line. Igor is bouncer tonight, long hair tucked back under a beanie and he’s smiling and laughing with the group of blonde influencers at the front of the line when Nico gets there.

The smile quickly falls when Nico splits through the group, grabbing Igor by the collar or his long sleeve. Someone gasps behind him, a few people shout at him but it falls on deaf ears.

“I’m here to see Trouba,” he grits out, “now!”

Eyes wide, Igor lifts his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. Give us a sec would ya?”

Nico lets him go, clenching and unclenching his jaw as Igor calls over Rempe and mutters instructions in the rookies ear. A hand slides up Nico's bicep, fingers tapping at the clenched muscle.

"Hey handsome," a drunken voice purrs. Nico's ears go hot, anger flushing through his body and he shakes the girls hand off, glaring over his shoulder at the honey blonde making eyes at him. Even in her drunken state she flinches away, the rest of her group yanking her a couple steps back.

When he turns back forward, Rempe is already watching him and the stupid kid has the audacity to smirk and wink at him as he heads to the bar.

That’s all it takes for Nico to lurch forward, yanking the security rope down and storming towards the door.

“Whoa, whoa, Hischier!” Igor cuts him off, shoving at his chest to push him back. Rempe disappears inside, Nico struggling to follow after him. "Give him a sec, Jesus fuck," Igor mutters, giving Nico one final shove back.

He's angry, but he's not stupid so he doesn't retaliate, instead paces back in forth in the area between Igor and the dismantled security rope. Finally, Igor lifts a finger up to his ear piece, eyes squinting as he listens. Then he's nodding to the doorway and Nico pushes around him into the humid and packed bar.

Jacob Trouba is sitting at a large booth in the upper level, the brown leather of the seat cracked and sticky when Nico slips in across from him. Mika and Bread eye Nico, standing guard by their boss but with a wave of Trouba's hand they disperse.

"When you asked to visit a bar on this side tonight, I didn't think you meant mine." The Rag jokes, a crooked smirk on his face. Elbows thudding on the table, Nico leans into closer to him.

"My men were attacked tonight," he spits "at your bar, on your side of the Hudson. And I want everyone who was taken back right now or you'll be cleaning up a big mess here tonight."

Red and blue party lights pulse around the bar, the crappy lighting obscuring some of Trouba's features. But it does nothing to hide the way his eyebrows pinch in confusion.

"My men have been here all night Hischier," Trouba says earnestly, and Nico feels his heart sink to his stomach, the anxious knots in his belly squeezing it tighter and tighter.

He hadn't even let himself think it might be possible that the Rags don't have you. There was no reason to entertain the idea because the universe wouldn't do that to him. There's no way you're that far from him, that lost. It can't be true because if it is, this just got a lot more complicated.

Trouba is looking at him curiously, head tilted to the side like he's examining him. Nico ignores the inquisitive eyes, pulls his phone out of his leather jacket and texts Timo.

Start pulling up camera feeds around our hot spots, familiar faces but not NY ones

"Who is she?"

This isn't what he's here for. Not to tell Trouba about you, to reveal to his biggest rivals that he's got a vulnerable spot for them to exploit. But when he meets Trouba's gaze, it doesn't matter. He's already given it away.

"Important to me."

Trouba smacks the table so hard his scotch rattles, a deep laugh bellowing out of him. "Aren't they all? Or have you just gone soft?"

"No," he spits out, jaw clenching and unclenching "which is why I need you to start talking or I'm outta here and my boys are coming in."

Amusement twinkling in his eyes, Trouba sips his drink. "This is clearly new for you Hischier, so I'm gonna help you out. Lee and Barzal spotted Farabee and Couturier around the Upper West Side earlier today,

"My guess is that they've got your girl."

His ears ring, like someone just shot a gun right by his eardrum. It echoes in his head, beats against his temple. This is the worst thing he could've been told, absolute worst case scenario. That would mean you're not tucked away somewhere in this bar or just down the street, but that you're halfway to fucking Philadelphia with the biggest jackasses Nico's ever encountered.

"You're lying." He denies, standing up from the booth and crowding over Trouba. "Giroux doesn't know about her."

The Rag leader scoffs, mockingly pouting at Nico. "You have lost it, Hischier. What is that girl doing to you that you're not using your fucking brain anymore?"

"Don't fucking talk about her!" He's seething, pinning Trouba into the back of the booth by his shoulders until the man is wincing.

"Alright alright, calm down! I'll tell you what I know if you just fucking sit down!"

He has to pry his hands off Trouba, chest heaving as he slumps back into the booth and glares at the man across from him. Luckily, Trouba is just as fed up with this little meeting as he is and he starts explaining right away.

"You've been different the past like year," he starts "we saw less and less of you, more of the boys. And yet your operations were going smoother than ever, deals were coming in easy, it all worked.

"And then you were back for about a month, and worse than ever I'll tell you that. Fucking everywhere I looked, you and Devs were there, you were ruthless and angry.

"And then it all went away again."

Nico doesn't get what he's saying, the point of it all. None of it has anything to do with you other than the fact that he met you almost a year ago.

Sighing, Trouba rakes a hand through his hair. "Look, it's obvious that you were with someone. Less hands-on time with the job for more hands-on time with her. It's what happens when we finally decide to try and have it all, because you can't. It's the business or the girl, you can't protect both."

Nico huffs. "Maybe you can't but we're-"

"Different, yeah I know." Trouba interrupts, lips smiling knowingly. "My girl and I were different too. Until we weren't. Because she made it better, all of it. The Rags run so well today because of her. And you can't hide what having that partner does for you and the business.

"That's how Giroux knew. He's been there too."

Sinking further into the seat, Nico lets it fully hit him. Trouba is right. That long streak of deals and success were because he had you, because he was happy with you and was trying to make it all work. He couldn't separate you from his work and it showed, even when he did everything to hide you.

You're the soft spot of the Devs.

Even tonight. He missed the Flyers roaming around the city because he was too busy letting all his patrollers follow you. He was so paranoid about a night out in the city that he put all his resources into protecting you, and instead it just revealed his greatest weakness. He doesn't know how to do this with you.

"I gave her up," Nico mutters, "I brought too many men over and it showed them that it was her."

For what it's worth, Trouba does look sorry when Nico meets his gaze. Nico imagines he's reliving it, how terrifying it was for him to fall in love too.

"Yeah," Trouba says softly, throwing back the rest of his drink. He drops the glass back onto the table. "They're our best and our worst, our strength and our weakness.

"And they always will be, so you gotta let her in Hischier. Once she's yours, even for a second, that's it. Every squad in the area will know, so you better make sure she's ready for it."

That's the thing. Nico isn't sure you're ready for it. God knows he hasn't done jack shit to make sure you are, not like this.

He feels like he's moving on autopilot when he gets up, throwing a half-assed thanks to Trouba and stumbling out of the bar. He recognizes Igor as he leaves, but the faces and bodies are blurry, just obstacles between you and him right now.

Nico doesn't know what he's doing, how he's going to fix this. All he knows is that the longer it takes him to think, to act, the further you get from him. And the more danger you're put in.

Timo is waiting outside the Range Rover when Nico rounds the block, practically running towards the gathered group of vehicles. Jack and Haula are hanging out of Erik's truck, ready to move at a moments notice. Jesper's SUV hums, him and Jonas leaning against the light up headlights. He can see the silhouette of their guns in hand. Mercer is with them too, and for the first time in his life he doesn't have that goofy grin on his face.

He looks like he might throw up. In fact, almost all of them do.

Nico imagines he must look the same.

"We gotta go," he rushes out when he's in earshot. "Giroux has her, we gotta get to her before he gets her into Fargo."

Like a gun at a starting line, the boys shoot into action. They're clambering back into the vehicles, engines roaring to life. Nico climbs into the passenger seat, flicks on the radar gun and map for Timo who's already pulled away from the curb.

Grabbing the radio off the dash, Timo brings it up to his lips. "They've got an hour on us boys," he informs the following vehicles, "let make it up."

Static beeps of confirmation come in, a shaken but determined "copy that." from Jack. Timo steps on the gas harder, and Nico tries to piece together a plan in his head. No matter how fast Timo drives, they won't catch her before the Flyers make it back to Broad street.

Yanking out his phone, Nico brings up the contact of the one man that he knows can help. Rumor has it that the Flyers were causing trouble in Pennsylvania lately, and the Pengs pushed in on the boundaries to keep them from heading West.

Praying it's true, he hits dial and brings the phone up to his ear. It rings, and rings, and rings, and then it clicks.

"Sid, I need a favor."

~~~~

The air smells of garbage and popcorn, so thick it cuts through the fabric of the hood over your head. It's an odd and disgusting combination, and it makes your heart thump even quicker in your chest. You have no idea what place could be responsible for such a smell, no idea at all of where you could possibly be.

All you know is that you were in car for a long time, long enough that you're almost certain you're not in New York or Jersey. Time is hard to tell when your head is in a bag though.

And that's even worse. The more confused and discombobulated you become, the harder it'll be to survive.

A loud, metal clanking sounds behind you, like rusty gears of an industrial door closing. Sure enough you here it bang shut, and immediately the air grows thick and hot without the fall breeze blowing in.

"Move it!"

You flinch at the demand, flailing forward when two hands roughly shove you. Blindly, you stumble forward until the men take ahold of your arms, pining them behind your back and marching you forward.

Panicking and unsure of what to do, you think of every self-defense tip you've ever seen online, on posters around school, from friends.

"Hello!" You shout, and relax all your weight into the ground. "Help! I don't know these men! I need help!"

Your knees scrape the ground, feet dragging and shoulders stretching painfully as the men struggle to hold your weight up. Someone kicks at your foot, screams for you to shut up but you keep yelling.

"I'm in danger and I need help!"

The words echo, bouncing off the walls of wherever you may be and you feel your throat close up in panic. It's silent, there's no one here to hear you.

"I said shut the fuck up!" The hood is yanked off your head. You blink, shake your head and frantically look around for any sign of help. It doesn't matter.

Your surrounded by cement walls, long tunnels of a dark and empty warehouse. Pallets and boxes line the walls, industrial freezers and coolers tucked into the sturdy walls.

"No," you mutter, tears blurring your vision. "No. no. no-"

A hand clamps over your mouth, squeezing your jaw tightly. You still can't see who it belongs to, but their grip is so rough it makes the tears in your eyes bubble down you cheeks.

"Walk!"

Helpless, the men drag you down the long hall, away from whatever door led to the outside world. Rounding a corner into a smaller opening, you wiggle and try to kick free when you see the enclosed cage against the backwall. It's surrounded by boxes and trash, abandoned warehouse equipment tipped over against the chain link. But the door in the front is wide open, taunting as you get pushed closer and closer.

Now within reach of the cage, you quickly spring to your feet and press your toes into the bars of the door. Trying to fight back, you push back into the men, locking your knees and bracing yourself against the opening.

"For fuck's sake," one of them cusses behind you, pushing your wrist up towards your shoulders. You cry out, the sound muffled by the hand over your lips and crumple to the ground in pain. In a last ditch effort you yank your head back, the hand sliding down to your chin and you clamp your teeth down on the man's palm, biting until you taste blood.

"Oh you bitch," he screams, pulling his hand from your mouth and stepping away. The sudden action makes them both release you, and you spit the coppery-blood taste from your mouth. Spinning around in hopes to get up and run, your stopped when stars suddenly flash in you vision, everything going dark for a split second as pain shoots across the right side of your face.

The hit knocks you onto your side, startles you so much that your being picked up and thrown onto all fours into the cage so quickly you'd think you were on fire or something. Which you might be because heat springs up in your left wrist, burns and sizzles up your arm and you instinctively move to get the weight off of it.

Not that it matters, because a new slice of pain bites at your thigh, far worse than the sting on your cheek and in your arm. You cry out, jumping up and backwards onto you behind. The closed door of the cage digs into your back, the footsteps of the men fading as they leave you there.

You don't even get a chance to turn and see what they look like. Because a large shard of glass has stabbed into your left thigh, the jagged end sticking out of your ripped jeans. Blood soaks into fabric, wet and sticky against your skin. Fingers shaking and numb, you touch the large piece of glass and hiss when it knicks your fingertip. You're not sure what's worse, the blood or the fact that you have no idea what to do.

Or any idea where you are.

~~~~

Music plays throughout the office, the bluetooth speaker in the corner swapping colors with the beat of the song. Johnny's not sure what song this is, but the artist is definitely British and can definitely play a fucking guitar well.

He bops his head along with it, gnawing at his bottom lip as he looks through expense books. Tanger is pretty good at keeping them up to date, but with the group not fully in Pittsburgh right now, Sid thought it would be best to have a second set of eyes look over them.

Taking a swig of his Red Bull, Johnny blinks to refocus on the ledger when the music cuts out abruptly. His phone vibrates on the desk and the speaker announces "Incoming call from Sid."

It's really late for Sid to be calling, especially when he knows Johnny is here at work so the boy swipes up his phone and accepts the call.

"Marino," he answers, leaning back in the desk chair and nibbling on his thumb nail.

"It's Sidney," his boss answers and Johnny rolls his eyes because obviously he knows that. Sid is still old school though and forgets the world can see his contact just fine.

"What's going on boss?"

"Got a quick job for you," Sid replies, the sound of an engine turning over in the background. "I got your gear in the car and I'm coming to get you so be ready."

Johnny gets up, holds the phone between his ear and shoulder as he begins to clean up. "What's the job?"

"I'll explain more on the way, but it looks like the Flyers found their way up to New York and started some trouble."

"With the Rags?"

"Nah the Devs," Sid corrects, sounding amused. "Hischier's got himself a girl that likes to go out in New York apparently. Claude jumped at the first chance to get her."

Locking the books away in the safe and shutting off the speaker, Johnny flicks the lights down and grabs his keys. "A girl? With Hischier?"

He locks the office door, making his way down the old creaky steps.

"He may be untouchable as a boss but at the end of the day he's still just a man. And the right girl will turn any man stupid."

Johnny shakes his head, praying to god that's not him one day. This must be some girl though, if she's got Nico dragging the Devs all the way to Broad Street. Wonder what's so great about her.

~~~~

Digging your teeth into the back of your hand, you yank the shard of glass out of your leg and bite down. Electric shocks of pain zip down your thigh, your toes feeling numb as you curl into yourself and cry.

Hot tears roll down your cheek, the saltiness making the right side of your face ache and you guess that whoever had hit you earlier had broken skin.

Grabbing the jacket you peeled off earlier, you press the fabric into the wound and wrap the sleeves around your thigh, tying it off as tightly as you can. The knots digs into the tender flesh, sends another wave of tears down your cheeks and you sniffle, wiping your blood stained hands off on your shirt before wiping at your cheeks.

Gentle and curious, you prod at the right side of your face. It's sore and swollen, and sure enough you can feel a freshly opened wound right on your cheekbone. Your fingers shake as you push up the sleeve of your shirt, stretching the fabric up to pat at the wound. Little flakes of dried blood stick to the sleeve, and you sigh in relief, at least a little bit of it. It's not bleeding too much so that's something.

Still propped up against the door, you finally take a look around the area. Two rows of metal shelves rise to the top of the cage on either side of you, bottles of every kind of liquor in the world stacked on them. Which would explain the broken glass on the floor.

Sure enough when you look down by your feet the orange lid of a Tito's bottle lay there, surrounded by shards of the glass. With your good foot you push the glass away as best as you can, careful to not cut yourself anymore.

When your fairly sure it's safe, you press your weight into your good foot and wrist, climbing up from the floor. You have to hold onto the cage to keep yourself up, your injured leg trembling in protest when you begin to put weight on it.

Ignoring the painful throbbing, you slowly look around the area. More freezer doors line the walls, the giant silver handles stamped with signs that say "Cooler 1" and so on. You shiver, not even wanting to imagine what these men store in there, if it's something that actually belongs in a freezer or not.

Nausea stirs your stomach, mouth watering as the taste of bile builds up in your throat and you squeeze your thumbs in your fists, wincing when your wrist painfully aches.

The pain is a good distraction from the nausea though, and it gives you time to choke in and out deep breathes. Looking around the area, you take in more details of the place.

Championships signs on the walls, old broken hockey sticks scattered in pieces around the room, an abandoned Zamboni in the opposite corner.

It's an arena.

And you were correct about it not being in Jersey or New York. Because a large crate by the Zamboni is stamped with a location in big, black letters.

3601 S BROAD ST, PHILADELPHIA, PA

You've never been to Pennsylvania, don't even know how far from Jersey it is. Which is stupid because you know geography and should be able to recall how close the states are to each other but you can't get the photo memory of the map to focus in your brain.

All that keeps flashing in your head is that you're in another state, bleeding and hurt, surrounded by freezers large enough to hide a body (or 12).

Nico's not coming, you realize. Why would he? How could he? He has no idea where you are. Maybe he'll sniff around New York but for how long? How long until he gives up on it, on you?

It's not like you’re a Devil, not anyone big like Timo or Jonas. You're not in the family, so why would it matter if you disappeared from it?

Bone crippling fears claws up your throat, chokes you and you slump back onto the concrete ground. Gasping, you rapidly blink against your blurring vision and try to focus.

You need to find a way out of here.

~~~~

The interstate passes by far too slow for Nico's liking. He feels like he could get out and run faster, and it makes him uneasy. That stupid gut-wrenching, heart pounding, nausea inducing uneasy, and he can't stop himself from peaking over at the dash.

102 MPH

Groaning, Nico throws his head back against the headrest, brings his hands up to his hair and painfully tugs at it before he explodes. It doesn't really help but the pain is a little distracting.

"I swear I'm going as fast as I can." Timo defends but that just pisses Nico off even more because he knows that, he knows this isn't Timo's fault but saying that just makes him realize even more that it's his fault.

"We're not gonna make it in time at this pace."

"In time for what?" Timo scoffs, "It took us too long to track her down, they've already got her inside Nico. There's no intercepting her."

His fault, his fault, his fucking fault. That's all Nico hears as Timo goes on and on about how the Flyers and how they finally managed to do some damage to a rival. The words bubble in his veins, his skin growing hot and bones jittery. He feels like he's choking, gagging on the guilt in his chest and he explodes.

"I know! I fucking know Timo! I fucked up, I let her go into the city tonight and I'm the fucking idiot that brought all our men with!"

The silence in the car seems to ring in his ears, so unbearable that he just keeps blabbering.

"I should've told her no, I should've been a fucking man and just dealt with the puppy dog eyes or the cold shoulder or whatever bratty treatment she would've given me because at least she'd still be here!

"Or I could've gotten her a better spot in the bar, made her stay in the back by an exit or next to the wall but no she wanted to be close and I couldn't disappoint her..."

Nico feels manic, like he's sliding down an icy hill and kicking his feet trying to stop but he can't. And he's just falling and rolling on the ice, the cold, hard surface smacking him in the face.

"And I brought every fucking available man with us, and I didn't even put them to good use! They should've been patrolling, watching the bar but I let everyone just hang out because she wanted to, she wanted everyone to have fun!

"Some fucking fun we're having now Jesus fuck!"

Chest heaving and throat burning, Nico runs his hands down his face and realizes his cheeks are wet. He's not sure if the few tears that trailed down his face are from sadness, anger, or fear but it doesn't matter. All that matters is that he royally fucked up again and has lost you worse than he had before.

"Are you done?"

Nico clears his throat, feeling pathetic as exhaustion settles in the little space left in his body for even more emotions. He nods, watches the yellow line on the highway fly by his windows.

"I know you probably don't want to hear this from me because I know you don't wanna hear it at all, but just listen for a sec, ok?"

Timo waits for him to nod before continuing.

"This is not your fault Nico," the words sound earnest but they hit hollow to Nico. Of course this is his fault. Who else's could it be?

"Yeah we should've been better prepared for an emergency like this, and I mean we, not just you. But this has never happened before. None of the other girls have ever been messed with, because they're not yours. And like it or not, that's what really matters. Is that she's yours Nico."

He hears what Timo is saying, tries to shove it into his brain so he'll understand. Mine, he says over and over in his head, she's mine. All it does it remind him that the blame is also his.

"You love her, you wanted to do something nice for her after the past few months she's had. And that was the right thing to do for her, but we weren't ready for this, for her. And accidents happen Nico, you can't beat yourself up over it like this."

Nico inhales, takes a moment to hear his best friend. Timo is right. You, the whole situation tonight, it's all different. He's never had to deal with something like this. Still, he was raised in a mob family, he knows what it means to bring a partner into this life.

"I should've been ready," he argues, but it feels weak. Defeated, he feels defeated. "It's my job to be ready Timo and I didn't do it, and who knows how she'll pay for it."

"You can't pick when to fall in love, man. Just like you can't pick who you fall in love with, and how it'll happen, and how it will go. So you can't really be all that ready for it either.

"The fucked up thing with our lifestyle is that tiny detail of unpredictability usually gets someone hurt."

Again, he knows deep down that Timo is right. His friend has become wise beyond his years in the time since they started the Devils. It's what's made him such a good #2, a good person to work with. That and the fact that Nico has never had to shy away from his feelings and thoughts with Timo. Not like he does with the others. With Timo, he doesn't always have to be strong.

"It' scary," Nico mumbles, "Every day of my life since I've met her I've been scared. Scared to lose her, to hurt her, to ruin her life, to have her in my life. But it's even worse to not have her in it."

Fingers find his shoulder, hold onto his hoodie tightly and squeeze reassuringly. Nico looks over across the center counsel and meets Timo's quick glance. Even in the small fraction of time before he refocused on the road, Nico could see the certainty in Timo's eyes.

"It's worth it though, isn't it?"

Nico nods, licks at his dry lips and chokes out a painful chuckle. "Yeah, it's worth it. Of course she's fucking worth it."

Timo laughs with him, puts both hands back on the steering wheel and checks the police radar scanner before pressing down a little harder on the gas. The engine roars in protests, hesitating for a moment before pushing forward.

"I can't lose her Timo. I don't think I could ever get over her."

"You won't have to Nico, we're gonna get her."

Nico checks the GPS on the screen. Halfway there.

~~~~

Sid parks the car two blocks away from Fargo. Him and Jarry open up the back hatch, Jarry immediately pulling out equipment for Johnny to take in with him.

"Simple task John," Sid starts, taking a firm hold of Johnny's shoulder with his left hand to make sure the boy is actually listening. He is, but Johnny has one of those faces that always looks clueless.

"My guess is Giroux has got her somewhere in the warehouse. He wouldn't want her near the offices or shop talk..." If she's new to Hischier, she's new to it all. No sense in letting her hear anything that could help her out. "You just gotta get in, find her, and report back to us on how she's doing. Hide somewhere and keep her company until Hischier or his boys get in there for her."

Jarry shoves a mic pack in Johnny's jean pocket, handing him the wireless cuff to put in his ear. He rolls the little bud in his fingers, waiting for the signal to test it.

"Under no circumstance do you engage with the Flyers, ya hear me?" Sid shakes him a bit, brown eyes serious and commanding. Johnny nods.

"Unless they're gonna kill you or her, you're just surveillance. Keep her alive long enough for the Devs."

"Yes sir," he confirms, and Sid ruffles his hair, grins proudly.

"Atta boy, now test out that mic for us."

Johnny puts the earpiece in, hears the static burst of it connecting to Jarry's equipment. He tests it out, listens to his own voice echo back to him through Jarry's speaker. Once they're certain it works, he grabs brass knuckles and a knife, tucks them into his pockets.

"Ready?" Sid asks, and Johnny quickly agrees. "Report back to us how you find her, I gotta let Hischier know how to get to her the quickest."

"Yeah, no problem Sid." He confirms, the toe of his boot crunching as he turns to start walking towards Fargo. He only makes it a couple feet before stopping and turning back around.

"She means that much to him?"

It's unspoken who him is. They all know Hischier is the topic of the night. More specifically his sudden loyalty to this girl, sudden interest in a relationship.

Sid shares a look with Jarry, one Johnny can't really read from where he's at but he feels the weight of the words just as heavily.

"She's everything to him Marino."

~~~~

Your fingers ache, wrist throbbing painfully as you maneuver try to jam the sliver of metal further into the padlock. You’re not even sure where the thing came from but after scrounging around on the shelves you found it and figured might as well try.

It’s difficult to hold the padlock, your wrists having to twist it at an odd angle to reach the key hole on the bottom. You don’t even know how to pick a lock but something’s gotta give right?

Cursing when the lock doesn’t budge, you violently jiggle it and hope that something gets knocked loose or falls into place. You yank on it, metal clattering loudly in the abandoned warehouse before dropping it. Petulant and annoyed, you tenderly rub your rapidly swelling and bruised wrist, glaring at the lock.

The shuffle of a shoes scraping on the dirty floor of the warehouse makes you freeze, body stiffening and sense going on high-alert. You look around the large room, a cold chill trickling down your spine as you wait for any sign of the men from before.

But no one comes through the open door, not even a mouse. Yet you can hear movement from somewhere, little scuffles like they’re sneaking around.

“That things too dull to pick the lock.”

You whip around, gasping in surprise at the head of curly hair and brown eyes peeking out from behind stacks of crates and boxes.

“W-what?” You stumble, unsure of what to even say. You don’t know who this boy is or how long he’s been here. Is he with them? Or did they take him too?

“You can’t pick the lock with that,” he says again, pointing to the hunk of metal you had previously been holding. “It needs to be thinner at the top.”

You look down at it, kick it away with your shoe and take a deep breath to try and calm your racing heart.

“Oh,” you mumble, dumbly. “Ok. Who are you?”

The boy looks around the room, checking for anyone else. When he’s sure it’s just you, he rises to his feet and perches on top of one.

“John,” he introduces. “Marino. M’here to make sure you’re ok and not like gonna die or anything.”

And well that tells you nothing. Not about who he is, who sent him, why he’s in charge of checking up on you. For all you know the men that took you sent him here to make sure you don’t bleed out.

However, he did seem to be sneaking around. Like he shouldn’t be here. Or he could just want you to think that, think that he’s actually helping you so you let your guard down.

John looks confused when you don’t say anything. He taps at his ear, purses his lips together and starts gently swinging his foot.

“Nico sent me,” he adds and just the name of your boyfriend has you trembling. Instinctively you stumble forward, pushing yourself to the far end of the cage. It’s pathetic, the way you half drag your injured leg behind you and crash into the chain link.

“Nico sent you? You know Nico?” You beg, desperate to know anything at all. Desperate to see him, to know that you’ll see him again.

Your fingers cling onto the fence, squeezing painfully and your wrist throbs so hard you think you’d be able to see it beating if you looked down. But you can’t look away from John, not until you know for sure that he knows Nico.

“Yeah I do,” he confirms, skeptically.

Frowning, you pull back just the slightest bit. “If you really know him,” you murmur “then tell me something about him?”

John bawks, looks you up and down like you’re crazy before his eyes narrow challengingly. He hums, taps at his chin like he’s thinking really hard.

“I think you’re lying Johnny boy.” You taunt, narrowing your own eyes at him.

“Fine,” he grunts “I know that Nico has a tattoo of a triangle on his ankle that he never shows anyone and no one knows what it means.”

You’re shocked by his answer, leaning back and loosening your hold on the fence. Nico does have a tattoo like that on his ankle and no one who’s just passed him in the street or heard of his reputation would know that. It’s always hidden by his clothes, a secret mark of his and he’s yet to tell you its importance. Even Timo told you he doesn’t know.

John takes your silence as victory, smirking proudly and tauntingly pointing at you. “Did you know about the tattoo sweetheart?”

“Of course I did,” you scoff “I know every little mark on that man’s body, thank you very much.”

Facing scrunching in disgust, he groans quietly, leaning back on the crate as if he’s trying to physically get away from you. “Ok didn’t need to know that.”

“Sorry,” you say quietly, and then the room is silent again. Nervous, unsure of what’s happening or what you’re supposed to do you gnaw at your bottom lip.

“It’s ok,” he says gently when you don’t continue. For the second time that night John looks you up and down, slower this time as he takes in the details of your face and clothes, eyes lingering on your wrist that’s now turned a dark shade of purple.

“Are you hurt?” He asks, “like really hurt?”

Teeth sinking painfully into your lip to keep it from wobbling, you inhale shakily and nod. Up until now it felt like you couldn’t admit how much your body hurt, how every muscle feels sore and bruised. Your leg feels useless and cold, and just the air on your wrist makes you want to curl into a ball to shield it.

“My leg is bleeding,” you choke out, hands shaking as you let go of the fence and reach for the jacket you’d tied around it. “A lot, I don’t know what to do about it.”

John is silent as you untie the knot with trembling fingers, unwrapping the jacket and revealing the rip in your jeans, the dark red and still gushing blood slit only your thigh.

“Oh my god,” he mutters, jumping up from his seat like he’s just been electrocuted. “Ok, quick wrap that back on there.” He instructs you and you immediately do as you're told, tears slipping down your cheeks as you try not to cry out in pain. It hurts even more the second time around.

John holds his finger up to his ear. “Sid we gotta get a sewing kit or something in here, she’s gonna bleed out on the concrete.”

Your head snaps up to look at him. "Who's Sid?"

"My boss," he responds, looking away as he listens to whoever is in his ear. Sid, you guess. "Hold up, yeah that'll work. Get it to the Southwest vent, last one on the right. I marked it with my knife."

Now addressing you, John crowds up close to the cage, his own fingers gripping the chain link. "I'll be right back ok, just sit down or something and don't move, capisce?"

Alarm bells go off in your head, your hands reaching out and locking over his in panic. "N-no don't leave, please don't leave Johnny."

"Hey, hey, hey..." he murmurs, ducking his head down to be eye-level with you. His gaze is reassuring, strong and certain in a way you've only ever seen from Nico. It makes you stop, heart jumping into your throat. God you wish Nico was here. "It's gonna be ok, I just need a moment to run and get something to fix that leg of yours, ok?"

He waits for a signal that you're hearing him before continuing. "I'm gonna be right back, I promise. You'll be ok, you're tough, I can tell. No girl of Nico's wouldn't be, huh?"

"Yeah," you mumble, the words sounding muffled in your ears.

"Ok good," John nods, rising up to his full height. "When I come back you're gonna sit your cute butt right there and tell me all about it, ok? I gotta hear how Hischier hooked you."

Nervously, you laugh and agree but you're not really sure what you're laughing at. You just know he was smiling at you like he made a joke and that was all you could do.

Watching John disappear in the back corner, you slump back to the ground and squeeze your eyes shut, counting your breaths until he gets back.

~~~~

The phone line rings, trilling through the speaker. Giroux sits with his feet propped up on the desk by it, dirty black boots lulling back and forth with each ring.

He answers moments later.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"Now, that's not a very nice way to answer the phone." Giroux tsks, lips curling in amusement when Farabee shakes his head across the room. "Is this how you always handle business?"

"I have no business with you Claude," Nico snarks back, the static of the phone giving him more of a growl than he usually has.

"Hmm then what would you call the pretty little bird I've got here?"

"Off-limits," he spits, "touch one hair on her head and you'll be fucking sorry."

Giroux laughs, a loud obnoxious belly laugh that has Couturier and Farabee snickering alongside him. "Oh I don't think I will Hischier," he sighs happily. "But I can offer you her back, in mostly good condition, just as long as you hand over the contract for the deal with Met."

The line goes silent for a moment, so quiet that Giroux sits up and drops his boots back to the floor just to make sure the call is in fact still going.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Nico finally responds, and his tone sounds like it's dropped a few octaves, heavy with rage.

"You heard me, hand over the deal?"

A sarcastic laugh barks through the phone, harsh and unforgiving. "You even dumber than I thought you were," he goads, "there's no fucking contract you idiot. Unlike your gang of fuck ups, I actually know how to do business."

The two men are watching Giroux, confusion etched all over their faces. His face flushes with embarrassment and anger, hating being talked to like this in front of his men.

"Watch your tone Hischier or that girl of yours will hear for it."

"Like I said, touch her and I'll make you regret it," Nico spits, the venom of his words practically dripping through the phone and all over the desk. It makes Giroux rise, his stomach twisting uncomfortably.

"Let me tell you about how we do things in Jersey, Claude. We're respectable gentlemen, we hold open doors and we help carry grocery bags, and we shake hands with our acquaintances. Acquaintances that we do business with, and that personal touch is a helluva lot stronger than a fucking piece of paper."

Dread creeps down Giroux's spine. There was never a deal, not one that can be breached. Nico and the Devils had a Jersey contract with MetLife, and even if they stole deal right out from under the Flyers, local gang sealings always win out over paper contracts.

Giroux has just never bothered to have one, never needed one. The Philly deals have always been minor. But he knows the unwritten law of the gangs, knows what not to breach. His mistake was believing Hischier had done this on the books.

"On the other hand," Nico continues, cutting off his spiral. "we protect what's ours. And you've taken something of mine that was not up for grabs, you've taken one of ours. I don't know how you run shit down there, Claude, but up here in Jersey, we don't play games with the women that feed us, clean up our wounds, keep the family together ya know?

"That's just bad manners. And we answer bad manners, with bad manners of our own. Things like showing up uninvited, or I don't know even burning all of Broad Street to the fucking ground. And don't think I'm joking Claude, there's a reason we're called the Devils, after all.

"We're not afraid to fight with fire. And we will raise hell."

Claude smacks his hand over the phone, hitting mute before looking up at his men. "Find somewhere to move her, now!" He demands frantically waving them around the room. "Hischier can't find her here, we need another safe house or drop her on the fucking street, I don't care. And call in back up!”

Farabee and Couturier spring into action, moving around the room like headless chickens. Nico barks his name through the phone and Giroux unmutes it, clearing his throat and putting forward his best amused voice.

“You do that Hischier,” he encourages, “Drop out of the deal or the only place you’ll see your girl again is in hell.”

~~~~

You’re still counting your breaths when his boots scuffle on the floor again, eyes snapping open to find him crouched by the cage. John is holding a little black box in his hand, fingers trembling slightly as he grips onto the fence.

"You still with me?"

"Yeah," you nod, swallowing thickly and sitting up straighter. "What do I do?"

John motions to the shelf behind your back. "First, I need ya to get that bottle of Everclear."

Doing as told, you force yourself to collect the bottle of alcohol for him, sitting back in your original spot with your wounded leg straightened out in front of you.

He keeps going through instructions, almost methodically as he tells you to take a quick swig of the drink, for nerves of course. Choking back the drink, you untie the jacket from your leg once again and lay it off to the side, looking at the boy next to you expectantly.

"Now here's the hard part," he winces, "you gotta sterilize the wound as much as possible."

"What?"

Sighing, he jabs a finger at the bottle of Everclear. "Pour it on there, as much as you can for as long as you can. And try not to be too loud, last thing we need is Flyers coming down here."

Hesitantly, you bring the bottle up and over your leg. Your free hand grips onto the collar of your shirt and you lift it to your lips, biting into the thin fabric. Squeezing your eyes shut, you tip the bottle and let the alcohol pour down onto the wound.

The pain is unbearable. You want to scream, cry, kick your legs like a toddle in a rampage. But it's paralyzing, has you stiff as a board as you cry into your shirt and twitch uncomfortably.

You don't know how long you keep pouring, but it feels like minutes to you, though it can't be. Not judging by the amount of liquid still in the bottle. Even so John looks pleased when you pry your collar out of your mouth, swallowing down another harsh gulp of the drink before discarding the bottle to the side.

Messily, you wipe at your cheeks, sniffling as you blink up at him.

"What now?"

The box in his hand is a sewing kit. Meant for clothes or bags, but he insists it'll do the job, at least for now. John cleans the needle for you, pulling out a small pink lighter from his pocket and holding the needle in the flame. Then he's threading it for you, softly muttering instructions as he shows you. You're glad he doesn't make you thread it because you can't really feel your fingers anymore. Just buzzing, numb fingertips.

Too soon, he's slipping the threaded needle through the cage to you, telling you how to hold it and keep the thread untangled. He doesn't have to tell you what i's for, you already know.

So you steel yourself again, biting into your cheek as you follow his commands of pinching the wound shut with one hand, methodically pushing the needle through the flesh until you've got a fairly good looking stitch.

"Atta girl," he compliments, grinning proudly and it makes your chest flutter with relief. At least something is going well tonight. "Bellissimo."

You chuckle wetly, beginning the next one. "Non male, eh?"

John's grin grows at your words, eyes twinkling. "Tu parli Italiano?"

"Sì lo faccio," you answer, wincing at the pinch of the needle. "My family is Italian. Mamma and papa left Italy to get married, here in Jersey."

You're not sure why you're telling him all of this, but having something to talk about it making it easier to sew up the wound so you keep going.

"They were running from the mafia," you snort, humorlessly. "Little did they know, huh?"

John shuffles, drops down onto his bottom so he's sitting facing you, back leaning against the crates. "I left Italy for school," he says quietly, "my Papa stayed back to pay for it. Went through some mafioso friend to pay for it for me. Four years at Harvard, he's sill paying for it."

You tilt your head in confusion. "Still?"

He clears his throat, nodding solemnly. When he speaks, it's in Italian again. "They killed him, when he couldn't pay it back in time. I was two months away from graduation."

Pausing, you sit up and look at him. He looks younger than he did before, hunched in on himself, brown eyes heavy and sad. "I'm sorry John." you reply, addressing him in Italian too. "I can't imagine."

"Johnny," he corrects, "call me Johnny. And it's not all that bad. I got to stay here, with Sid and the Pengs. S'nice. M'sure you get it, feeling at home with the Devs, yeah?"

You scoff, rolling your eyes and slowly going back to stitching yourself up. "They don't speak Italian," you say, "For awhile I think it was just Swiss guys and Bratter. But Nico's got a big heart, he ended up letting anyone in."

Johnny laughs. "You joined a mob that's not Italian? How'd that happen?"

"I didn't join," you correct, "I fell in love."

The two of you continue on like that, speaking softly in Italian like it hasn't been months since you've used the language. Johnny seems to enjoy it too, giving you tips and pointers on your stitches.

And you tell him everything, the story of the past year of your life with Nico and the Devils. How you met Nico just before the start of your senior year of university, at his bar that you basically made your own. And for months you were with him all the time, spent every free second with him, even if meant he was just watching you study, patiently waiting until you gave him the sign that he could slip you out of your clothes and into his bed.

You're friends learned about him, warned you about what the streets said. But you ignored it because he felt so right, and the more you were with him, the more wrong you're friends became. Around Spring you become his unofficial girlfriend, his girl to the group and to your friends, but hidden from everyone else.

Two weeks before graduation you asked him about the group, for real this time. And he told you everything, what he did, how he got into it, how they got their reputation. Exactly what kind of lifestyle it was.

Not the greatest, but for him worth it. So worth it that when you went to your parents with the information that your boyfriend, your mafioso boyfriend would be attending graduation, they gave you the ultimatum. They didn't flee organized crime just for you to bring it back into the family here.

You showed up for graduation unsure, confused, and lost. But Nico had shown up, and with him came Timo and Jack and Dawson, all somehow in the front row being rowdy and annoying.

It was a no brainer. You'd pick him in any lifetime. Because you know he wouldn't make you choose, he'd find a way for you to have everything. After the ceremony was the last time you spoke to them.

Four days later you told Nico you were all in, that you'd given up your parents and brother, your life to be a part of this life.

And the worst happened. He said no. Even when you begged and cried, told him that you love him more than anything else, he still said no. You're not dumb, you knew what he was doing. You loved him enough to lose everything, and that terrified him.

For a month, you lived without him. Miserable, family-less, and doing everything to just move on. It came in the form of going out every night with your friends, to forget him, to let loose before your adult lives started for real.

That month must have been hell for him too, because he came running back not too long later. Telling you he was sorry, that he had been scared and unsure, that you caught him off guard. He hadn't been ready before, but he was now.

You knew better than to let that feeling of love go, so you went against the advice of your friends. You followed him to Jersey, set roots in the Devils that had been growing ever since.

Talking to Johnny is nice. It feels like having an old friend back, not one Nico has assigned to you or ordered to listen to you, but someone genuinely curious. You haven't felt like that since early summer, when you were still with your college crowd.

"Wow," Johnny whistles when you've finished. "I never would've thought that that is what Hischier had up his sleeve this past year."

"Yeah," you laugh, listening closely as he tells you how to tie off the thread of your stitches. They're a little wonky and sloppy, but they do the job just fine. At least that what he tells you before instructing you to cover them with your jacket again.

"So when did you officially join?" He continues, and you chuckle.

"I haven't," you reply, "I don't have a pendant yet. Up until tonight, I didn't even think anyone actually saw me as Nico's girlfriend except him an-"

"Wait," he interrupts, shaking his head. "Giroux and the Flyers came after you without a Devs mark?"

Assuming that's who you've been taken by, you silently nod. He fishes out a pocket knife, slips it to you so you can cut the thread off. You hand him the needle back, trying to slip the knife back through when he grunts.

"Nah you keep it," he says, "you can use it to carve up some Flyers when we get you outta here."

~~~~

Timo has barely slammed on the brakes when Nico is throwing the door open, jumping out of the vehicle and stalking towards Sid and Jarry.

"What's happening?" He demands, shoving his gun back into his waistband. Behind him, the other vehicles come to a stop, all the boys slipping out in similar fashions.

Sid waves him over, an iPad in hand that he holds out to Nico. It's a simple map of Fargo, specifically the ground level. A thin red line trails through it, carving out a path.

"Earpiece my guy has got in has a tracker," he informs Nico, nodding to Jarry's equipment. The broody brunette is hunched over a radio system, large headphones over his ear. "He's in there with her now, this is the route he took."

Nico's head snaps up, glancing over at Jarry. "He's in there now? And she's with him, you're sure?"

"Yeah," Sid laughs, "he's been in there for a little over an hour. No sign of them coming down to fuck with her since he got there, but he mentioned medical aid."

Jittery, Nico takes in the map, commits it to memory. Then he's handing it off to Timo. "Memorize it," he instructs gruffly, "all of you. We get in, get to her, and take the same way out. Jack and Mercer, you keep two vehicles out here running. We get out with her, get her in one and drive, no matter what. Seperate, don't let anyone see what car she is in. You don't meet up again until you're sure you're not being followed,

"The rest of you will kill as many fucking Flyers as you see in there. And on the way out, burn it."

Sid is giggling when Nico finishes explaining the plan to his men, and he looks over at him through a burning glare. "What's so funny, Crosby?"

He holds both hands up, shaking his head in amusement. "Nothing. I’ll instruct the boys on where to take her. Got a safe house not too far away.”

“Thanks,” Nico nods to Jarry. "What's he doing?"

Sid looks over, raises an eyebrow. "He's in Marino's ear, taking reports on what's happening inside. Been listening to him chat with Miss Devil for a bit now."

"He's listening to her?"

"Oh yeah," Sid nods, "not that he really got anything. They've been talking in Italian I guess. Jarry's strictly English over there and well I just know a little Russ-"

"Can he talk to her?" Nico interrupts, impatient and tired of this conversation. "Can she hear him?"

"Well Marino can," Sid confirms, "he can't take the comm out because it'll disconnect but he can relay a message to her, for sure."

That's all Nico needs to hear. He's ripping the earphones off Jarry, the cord slipping unplugged and static erupts from the machine. But then he hears it, slightly muffled but definitely you. He'd know that voice anywhere, how sweet it sounds, even when it's speaking a language he barely knows.

"The mic," he demands, and Jarry is handing him the tiny mouthpiece, bristling when Nico yanks it out of his hand and shoulders him away.

"Marino," he calls into it, "it's Hischier, do you copy?"

The speakers go silent for just a moment before his voice flows through, louder and clearer then yours. "Marino here, I copy."

Nico breathes out a sigh of relief, shoulders slumping inwards. "I-just wait with her a bit longer, ok? My men and I are coming in, tell her to hang on for me, ok?"

He knows he sounds pathetic, weak and desperate but he doesn't care. Not right now, not with her so close but so far.

"You got it," Marino confirms, continuing his words in Italian and Nico knows he's sending the message along. He's not sure entirely what he's telling her but he recognizes the words good and lucky.

Nico barely gets to here your far away voice say his name before shouts are cutting you off, scuffling and you screaming breaking through the line.

And then it goes dead.

~~~~

"Looks like it's our lucky day," Johnny grins at you, removing his finger from his earpiece. "The good guys are here for ya."

Your hand clenches around the pocket knife you've been holding, heart thudding in your chest and you try to fight back the smile tugging at your lips, the relief fluttering in your veins.

His name is on the tip of your tongue, desperate to ask for him, to ask to hear him through the earpiece, just for one moment, just to know he's actually here.

All that comes out instead is a terrified screech, one that rips through your throat and chest painfully. Johnny is roughly hauled up into the air and around the side of the cage, tripping over his feet as a tall brunette towers over him. Though he's got quiete the build on Johnny, it's not him that's terrifying. No it's the barrel of the slick, black pistol pointed at Johnny's head.

"Well look what waddled in," the man hisses, effortlessly tossing Johnny to the ground next to him. You're frozen, mouth hanging open with horror as Johnny scrambles to his feet only to hold still when he comes face to face with the gun.

"Farabee," Johnny says lowly.

"Last I checked she was with the Devils, not the Penguins," Farabeee says, tilting his head in thought. "Walk, now."

Farabee shoves Johnny around the front of the cage until he's at the locked door. Then the brunette is glaring over at you, dark eyes so piercing and cold you stutter, mouth clamping shut.

"Over here sweetheart," he instructs and you hesitantly get up, wincing at the pull in your stitches. You don't stop until you're standing in front of the door, peering at Johnny with wide eyes through the chain link.

"I'm gonna unlock the door," Farabee explains, faux sweetness dripping off his tongue. "and you're gonna open it for your good friend Marino here. Then I'm gonna close it, and we'll see how much fun Giroux let's me have with you two, ok?"

Johnny's jaw clenches, nose flaring as he grunts out his agreement. Your throat is to dry, tongue too big in your mouth to say anything so you just nod, meekly.

"Good, now get on your knees!" Farabee barks, his voice echoing off the concrete walls and you sink down onto your tender leg, gnawing at the inside of your cheek.

"Oh you like that one, huh? No hesitation, sweetheart? No wonder Nico likes you." He taunts. Heat crawls up your neck and ears, burns at the apples of your cheeks. You keep your gaze lowered, focusing on the low top converse Farabee is wearing. No socks underneath either, the pale skin of his ankle sticking out.

Nico never wears those. Of course he's got Nikes that he loves, wears them everywhere, even with formal attire. But he always wears boots on a job, protective and steel-toed. Heavy too, you know from the time you tried them on and clunked around his apartment like a clown.

He's protecting weak spots, you realize, he can't get away if a deal goes bad if someone's injured his ankles or feet.

Ears ringing, you swallow harshly and let your fingers find the blade of the pocket knife in your hand. You hear key rattle, the lock above your head jingling, though it's muffled by your thoughts.

With a shaky left hand, you push open the door of the cage, looking up at Johnny through your eyelashes. Farabee shoves him into the cage and he stumbles into you, enough that when you lean to the right and leap forward, it looks like you're simply moving out of his way.

But your fingers have locked on the knife, pushing the blade out and you quickly swipe at the left foot of Farabee. With all your strength you drag the blade over the back of his ankle, the knife getting hot and slippery at the amount of blood that spurts out.

Farabee cries out, falls forward onto his knees. The gun in his hand clatters to the ground as he reaches for the wound behind him, and you drop the knife to reach for the pistol.

You don't know much about guns, but you know that the safety is off and all you really have to do is pull the trigger. Which is what you do, aiming for his chest, but the recoil makes you flinch back and the bullet sinks into his right armpit.

Falling back, the gun once again clatters to the ground. You're ears are still ringing, hands numb as you scramble back into the cage, kicking until you've collided with the shelf behind you.

He is laying in a heap on the ground, is legs squished under his body awkwardly. Even from here you can see the pool of blood around him. But you can't move, can't hear, can't see anything but the blood on him and on your hands. It feels like the gun is still in your hands, heavy and daunting.

You gasp, wheezing as you try to catch your breath, try to get your head to focus. Someone will definitely come down here after that, and you and Johnny can't be here.

Two hands cup your face, so cold on your flushed and sweating skin that it jolts you, makes you blink and look up to find Johnny looking down at you.

"Cara," he calls gently, in Italian “we gotta get up, we gotta go now."

Dumbly, you latch onto his arms, let him haul you up onto your feet. He leaves you standing there as he picks up the gun and knife from earlier, glancing at Farabee on the floor before rushing back to your side.

When he speaks to you again, it sounds like your underwater. "Take this, try to keep up."

He shoves the bloodied knife back in your hand before crouching down to slip your left arm over his shoulders. Then he's taking you by the waist, practically dragging you as you limp out the open door and past Farabee’s body. You can't bring yourself to look at him, to see if he's dead or not.

He's not moving, and that's enough for you.

You're choking down breathes, clinging to Johnny as he guides you back towards the old zamboni. The two of you have just rounded it to reveal a short hallway when your eyes seem to focus, a familiar figure busting though the door at the end.

"Y/n!"

It's instinct, the way you immediately leap from Johnny's hold at the sound of his voice. More figures have followed him through the door, but you don't spare them a glance, you can't look away from him.

Nico seems to pick up his pace when he realizes your limping, quickly closing the gap between you two. You fling yourself at him, arms locking around his neck as you push off your good leg.

The knife Johnny had given back to you presses into his shoulder, the blood staining his white shirt but you don't care. You just squeeze your eyes shut, let the others shove around you two as you try to keep sucking in air.

You’re panicking, dry heaving, shuttering sobs that get caught in your chest and throat. Nico strokes over the back of your head protectively, his arms and body so strong and safe.

Gunfire sounds behind you, some shouting and you pull back from Nico, grabbing onto the hem of his shirt as you look back down the hallway. Johnny and Timo are there, leaning around the corner to fire shots. And pressed against the side of the zamboni are Haula and Jesper, their own weapons out and ready to go.

"Let's go baby," Nico urges you, hands on your waist as he guides you back down the hall. After a few limping steps, Nico stops, turning and swiftly picking you up.

Your hands stay locked in the fabric of his shirt, terrified that if you let him go he'll disappear. Through the door is another abandoned room, smaller and darker, with old wooden desks. Like it was some sort of office.

Numbly, you look around, only stopping when you come face to face with Nico. He's glancing down at you as he goes, trudging through another door and hall. You bite your lip, take in the way his eyebrows are pinched together and mouth pursed in a thin line. And his eyes, they're so unlike him that you don't even know what to say. Dark and droopy, almost haunted looking.

You open your mouth and the only words that come out are “You came for me?”

Nico falters in his steps, slowing down as he stares at you incredulously. “Of course I came for you baby,” he says and shakes his head in disbelief. “You thought I wouldn’t?”

“I don’t know,” you hiccup, dropping your gaze in embarrassment. “I-We’re in Philadelphia and it’s far and I didn’t know h-“

“I will always come for you,” he interrupts, unable to just stand there and let you break his heart. "Baby, you gotta know that. There's no way I would have just left you here."

His earnest rattles your chest, brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes and you swallow heavily. After everything these past couple months, you should know that. He came back for you before. But you're mind loves to focus on the month he didn't want you, the month that he did leave you.

You shake the thought away, sniffling as he comes to a stop by the back corner of the wall. "Alright baby," gently, he places you back on your feet. "I'm gonna lift you up through the vent. Jonas is out there waiting for you, he's gonna help you ou-"

"You're coming too right?"

Nico clamps his mouth shut, tilting his head sympathetically. You immediately shake yours, tightening your hold on him. "I can't - Nico please-"

"Ok, ok, breathe for me baby, breathe."

He holds your face in his hands, frowning when his thumb ghosts over the cut on your swollen cheek. Trembling, you breathe in and out with him, squeezing your eyes shut when he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.

"M'not leaving you," he promises quietly, "s'ok, I'm not leaving you."

Clinging onto him and his words, you take another deep breathe and for the first time all night, bask in the hope of walking out of here alive.

~~~~

Sidney Crosby is his real name. That's what he tells you when Nico helps you out of the car Mercer had been driving. By the time you'd driven away from the warehouse it was already going up in flames, Nico looking through the back windshield with glee.

You felt it too, for a moment. Heart thumping excitedly and relief flooding through your veins. It quickly faded when the adrenaline did, and the pain in your face, wrist, and leg returned.

Barley able to hold yourself up, Sidney motions you into the front door of his overly large mansion. Right, he's the boss, he's Johnny's boss-

"Johnny!" You gasp, straightening in Nico's hold as alarm bells go off in your head. You remember seeing him with Timo, seeing Farabee’s gun in his hand. "Johnny, where is- I left him Nico."

Both him and Mercer look at you like you’re crazy but you're already fighting off their hold, trying to limp back to the front door. "I have to go back for him," you cry when they latch onto you again, Nico easily pining you to his chest. "No, I have to-"

"He's ok, he's ok!" Nico is yelling over your cries, "He's with Timo and the others, he's ok."

You grab at Nico's hand, dig your nails into them as you sob. "I forgot him, I forgot him..."

Everything in you gives out after that, bones and muscles turning to mush in Nico's hold. He drags you across the living room and into the kitchen where a man is standing by the table with a medkit.

Now that you're crying again, you can't stop. You can barley see through your wet and swollen eyes, broken whimpers leaving your lips and Nico has to fall into the dining room chair with you in his arms, holding you tight to his chest.

You feel the sharp sting of the needle in your arm, bristling as you look up to find an unknown pair of brown eyes and a thin face peering down at you. Warmth spreads through you, everything turning to Jell-O and all you can do is lay in Nico's arm, hiccupping as they go to work fixing you.

~~~~

"I didn't realize she had such an attachment to Marino," Sid says quietly, him and Nico watching you from across the room. After Sid's personal doctor Fleury sedated you, Nico was able to hold you still until your hysterical cries had quieted. But as soon as the rest of the boys arrived and Marino came barreling into the kitchen shouting for you, he was quickly kicked out of the dining room chair.

You're holding Marino's hand, perched on top of the kitchen counter as Fleury finishes up stitching your cheek. Your poor little face is swollen and bruised, lip busted in the corner. Fleury's got a temporary cast around the wrist you fractured, and he's had to cut the pants leg off of you're injured leg to redo the messy stitches there.

"Me either," Nico murmurs, arms crossed over his chest. You look like a trainwreck to put it honestly. And yet still so sweet, even when your mind is half gone. You're talking, the words slurring a bit but it's in full, fluent Italian and from the look on Marino's face, he can understand you. So you must be pretty coherent.

It has been awhile since they sedated you to be fair. Nico still worries though, wonders what you're blabbering on about.

"Eh kid needed a friend," Sid says, nodding towards Marino. "I took him in after his father was killed in Italy, he was fresh outta college. Never really got to have fun, to be a kid. And he sure as hell never gets to speak Italian."

Nico hums. "She doesn't either," he says. "All the family she's got is us, and we don't know the language."

Him and Sid look around, take in Haula, Timo, Jonas, and Jesper sat at the kitchen table, sipping on beers as they too watch her. Jack and Mercer hover, standing behind her like they might jump into the conversation if they could.

"S'pretty good fucking family." Sid compliments.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Thanks, for your help tonight Sid. And tell Jarry thanks too."

"Of course, no problem Hischier."

"If you ever need anything, you know who to call. I guarantee my men will be fighting over chances to pay you back for her."

Sid laughs, claps Nico on the back. Before he can say anything, Marino is calling for him.

"Her highness over here is ready for a shower," he says, jabbing a thumb at her. She giggles at him, messily wiping at her sniffling nose before looking to Nico. "And she really needs one too, peeew."

Nico comes over, takes her warm hand from Marino and helps her off the counter. Sid motions to the hall across the room. "Gotta a room down here for ya, Geno took in clothes for you both."

Nodding gratefully, Nico leads you and your bambi legs down the hall and into the bedroom, closing the door behind you. Not wanting to get blood or dirt on anything, he doesn't let you sit down until your in the bathroom, perched on the countertop.

He turns the water on, strips himself of his shirt and jeans before moving to you. You're already watching him, eyes red and glossy, and you hold your arms up for him to peel you out of your shirt.

"I think I killed a Flyer," you say quietly "Johnny said maybe he lived but I didn't see him move."

Nico swallows, distracts himself with gently removing your cast from your arm. "You didn't kill anyone baby," he comforts. "Anyone that died, anyone that got hurt tonight is on me."

His throat burns as he says it, eyes stinging with tears. It's the truth, all of tonight was his fault. Your pain, Johnny's, even the Flyer you hurt, is on him. Because he put you in that situation.

"He was a bad person," you say slowly, but the words are strong and certain. Nico keeps going, helping you undress and lay your ruined clothes on the bathroom floor. "I don't feel bad, but it was scary."

"Yeah," Nico sniffles, "I was scared too."

You gasp. "You were?"

"Of course I was, I was scared I'd lost you for good this time."

Tender hands cup his jaw, force him to look up at you. You've got the sweetest smile on your lips, so pretty even with all the bruising and cuts.

"I told Johnny how much I love you. While he taught me to stitch."

He nods. "Marino kept you alive."

"Eh," you make a face, "I think it was more the thought of you. Of getting back to you. That's why he asked me about you."

Nico heart aches, the pain so bittersweet he thinks he could look down and physically see his own chest cracking open. But he keeps his eyes on you.

"You don't cry very much," you whisper, stroking his cheeks. "Maybe we should sedate you too."

Unexpectedly, a wet laugh bubbles out of him and you giggle in response. Yeah, you're definitely still feeling that shot.

"Maybe," he agrees, "but first let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed, ok?"

"Ok," you agree, sitting there patiently while he finishes undressing. "Can Johnny sleep with us?"

He frowns, helps you down from the counter. "No, he can't"

"Just in the same room then?"

"Baby, no. Why would you want that?"

You pout, looking up at him with sad eyes as he peels back the shower curtain. "I like him," you say, as if that's enough of an explanation for Nico to let another boy sleep in the bed with you.

"He's got his own bed."

"Can we sleep in there with him , then?"

Nico huffs, steps into the hot water and tries to urge you in. You don't budge.

"I want to sleep in our own bed."

You sigh, holding his hands and join him under the spray of hot water. "How about Sid then?"

Nico runs his hands over your face, wipes away all the dripping dirt and blood. "Why do you want us to sleep with everyone?"

"I don't know," you shrug, "I like Sidney Crosby."

Shaking his head, Nico laughs and helps you wet your hair.

"He's pretty," you continue, fingers reaching out to play with the wet hair matted to Nico's forehead. "If he had dimples he'd be as pretty as you."

Nico blushes. "Thank you."

"Johnny has no tooth," you add, "but he's still cute too..."

And he lets you go on and on for the rest of the shower, any little thought that pops into your head coming out, even when he's in the middle of rinsing shampoo out of your head and instructed you to keep your mouth closed. Instead you get a mouthful of suds.

Neither of you care. You mostly because you're still loopy, but for him, it's because he knows you're home safe and sound. And Giroux and the Flyers on choking on their own ashes right now.

[babygirlboeser]

NSFW Alphabet - Matt Rempe

had fun with this and will definitely be doing more nsfw alphabets. enjoy u horny motherfuckers. let me know your thoughts on this.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

the sweetest. regardless of how rough the sex was he is so soft and gentle in taking care of you afterwards. cleans you up and brings you water and anything you need. sometimes you take a shower together to clean up. so many soft kisses especially on areas you may be marked up or red. if you’re sore at all he’s massaging your hips, thighs, back, or whatever hurts. you would have the easiest communication with each other, making sure the other is okay, and if you had tried something new you talk about how you liked it and if it’s something you should do again, if there’s anything you want to do different, things you wanna try. you like to get so close to him, either spooning, laying on his chest, whatever, and fall asleep feeling so safe and loved in his arms.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

on the softer side of things, he loves your smile. he thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen and his heart melts every time he gets to see your smile or kiss your pretty lips. on the not so soft side, he loves how you look smiling up at him with watery doe eyes and cum dripping down your lips. he also loves your thighs, and is obsessed with kissing them and leaving little marks all over them before and after he gives you head. could squeeze and kiss your thighs all day, and loves laying his head in your lap, especially after a long day.

as for himself, maybe his hands. loves when you kiss his knuckles and bandage them up after a fight. also loves how his long fingers can hit so deep when he’s pounding them into your cunt, making you cum all over his hand. he also likes his abs simply because you love them so much. when he’s laying down and you slowly place kisses down his chest and abs, making your way down south, it gives him butterflies every time. also when he’s shirtless or getting changed and catches you staring, he’ll smile at you and tease you for it, but it still makes him blush every time no matter how long you’ve been together.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

at first it’s on your stomach or back depending on what position you’re in. but once you let him cum inside once, he rarely does it anywhere else. he adores the sight of his cum dripping out of your tight pussy. though sometimes he will pull out and cum all over the outside of your pussy or on your ass. and when he’s getting head he loves to fill your mouth with cum and watch you swallow all of him. when some of it drips out of your mouth and down your lips and chin, he wipes it away with his thumb and sticks his finger into your mouth so you can clean up all of his cum.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

wants to try anal. i can’t explain this i just feel like if he’s never done it then he would be curious to try it with you. would never want to do it if you were actually uncomfortable with it, but he’d think it’s so hot if you were open to trying it. of course he would stop immediately if you were in any pain or just weren’t enjoying it.

another one is that he wants to take make a sex tape with you. ofc he would never even think about taking pics/vids without your permission, but you’d both be nervous to bring it up, not wanting to make the other uncomfortable. secretly you’d want to do it too, so you both have something to get off to while he’s out of town. it does eventually come up, and you watch those videos religiously.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

honestly, he fucks. like yeah he has a busy life but he’s also the hottest shit in NY lately and could pull anyone he wants. he’s super popular and crazy fucking hot. man is definitely getting laid. but regardless i feel like he would just be so good at it whether he’s experienced or not. plus i feel like he would be a fast learner, would always be communicating with you on what you liked or didn’t like and what he can improve on. just wants to learn your body and how to make you feel good.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

doggy. it hits so deep and makes you both feel so good. plus the variations are endless, he can pull you against his chest, pin your arms behind your back, reach around and rub your clit, do it in front of a mirror to make you watch your own fucked out face, he can push your face into the pillows to shut you up. he also loves to make you squirt in doggy. it’s also his favourite way to watch his cum drip out of you. it definitely feels the best for you as well, he hits so deep and fucks you so good you sometimes can’t even make noise because you feel so fucking good.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he keeps things lighthearted. theres a lot of giggles and smiles from both of you. maybe a little less when you’re being punished, he’ll be more strict, but still never too serious.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i feel like he doesn’t let it get toooo long, but also doesn’t clean up too regularly. just kinda an average amount.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

this man is huge on praise. will let you know how good you’re making him feel, that you taste so good, that you’re doing such a good job for him etc. and is always always telling you how pretty you look.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

you masturbate together on facetime when he’s away. it’s obviously never as good as actually being with him but it’s better than doing it totally alone. it makes you so much more desperate to see him again and you’re climbing him like a tree the second he gets home. you also send him pics and vids to watch while he’s gone so he has new material to get off to whenever he wants, but still prefers facetime if you’re available.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

breeding kink, eventually. once you’re at the point in your relationship where you start talking about trying, he becomes obsessedddd. once he cums in your pussy he may slow down but definitely keeps going, because he wants to push it all in. or will collect it all up with his fingers and push it back inside. he needs you to stay full.

bondage. nothing too severe but wants to tie your hands up or handcuff you. and loves holding your arms behind your back when he’s hitting it from behind. this also goes both ways, he would never admit it but he would love if you handcuffed him. you would both think it’s the hottest thing ever and he would look so pretty all submissive for you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

in bed. simple. in his bed, specifically, if you weren’t living together. when you’re not there he loves thinking about the fact that he’s laying in the exact spot he fucked you. he likes it there because he can pretty much get you in any position, the possibilities are endless. but he also loves putting you on the counter and fucking you or eating you out like that. he likes when you ride him or suck him off while he’s sitting on the couch too. also a fan of holding you up by your thighs and pinning you against a wall. sometimes he doesn’t even use the wall, he just holds you. he’s so strong and so much bigger than you, he can pick you up and fuck you like that with ease. he really likes anywhere he can get you, but bed is a classic.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

oh, practically anything. he’s so down bad for you, you can turn him on so easily. whether it’s teasingly or not, you could just touch his leg and he’s hard. you could be gently playing with his hair and he’s bricked up, because he started thinking about you pulling his hair when he’s eating you out. another thing is that you can never go swimming together because he is fighting an erection pretty much immediately at the sight of you in a swimsuit. everything gets his going, but one thing that always does it is seeing you in his jersey or anything with his name and # on it. he thinks it’s so hot and just reminds him that you’re his and nobody else’s.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

nothing that could really hurt you. like if you wanted to try knife play or something like that i feel like he’d be against it, he’d be too scared to hurt you and would never forgive himself if he did something to cause you any harm. he would definitely be into some light choking and some bondage but he wouldn’t do anything that could seriously hurt you. other than that he’s pretty open to everything, and will try mostly anything as long as you both feel comfortable and safe.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

this man could go down on you for hours and he is so goddamn good at it. can easily have you squirming and moaning in seconds, and can make you cum so fast. the way he can fuck his tongue into you, suck your clit, pump his fingers into your pussy. he knows how to make you fall apart so easily. and riding his face? you’re a fucking mess for him. it feels so fucking good, and he loves having you on his face, grinding on him and whining his name.

as for receiving, well, he’s a man so obviously he loves it. he thinks there’s nothing prettier than the sight of you glassy-eyed with his cum dripping down your face. he doesn’t last long at all when your lips are wrapped around him. i feel like he’d be very sensitive too and when you first take him in your mouth he has to grip your hair or the sheets to ground himself and restrain himself from bucking his hips into your face. doesn’t wanna actually hurt your throat. also i feel like he would usually wanna get you off at least once before he cums, it’s not often that he gets head first but sometimes you insist.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

oh it can totally go either way. really depends on the vibe. if you’re being bratty he’s pounding you fast and rough until you can’t even make noise because you’re so fucked out. but can also be slow and sweet, or anywhere in between. i’d say it’s more often rough, but it changes day to day, really.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

definitely prefers to take his time with you. sometimes you guys can’t help but pull each other into a bathroom at a party, but when that happens you usually try and come up with an excuse to go home so you can take care of business properly. he has stamina so one quick round is never enough and just leaves him aching for more. it’s sometimes worse than not doing it at all because it leaves him so wanting.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

would be into public sex but nothing that could get either of you in serious trouble. like, public but not too public yk? bathrooms, car, when there’s other people in the house, etc., nothing crazy. if there’s other people home he’s taking you from behind and either pushing your face into the pillows or holding his hand tightly over your mouth. as for experimenting he loves trying out new things, and like i said he would try just about anything as long as it couldn’t hurt you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

oh he has stamina. like i said, he always makes you get off by oral, fingering, or toys at least once before he cums. then once it gets to the actual sex he can go for so many rounds. if you’re both tired maybe just 2, but if you’ve got all night? you’re pulling orgasm after orgasm from each other. as for how long he lasts it varies every time, sometimes he lasts a while but sometimes he’s so sensitive and busts almost immediately.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

oh he totally uses toys on you. early in your relationship no, but once you’ve been doing it for a while you bring up using toys with him, and he’s definitely into using a vibe on your clit often. he might’ve seen them as an enemy rather than a friend at first but once you start using them together, they quickly grow on him. he for sure buys you new toys to try out while he’s out of town, on the condition that you send him vids of you using them and feedback on how you liked each one.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

could tease you and edge you for hours if you were being a brat. but he always gives in eventually, you look so pretty for him and he wants to make you feel good. would never leave you hanging.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

i feel like he would love to be loud with you but definitely tries to keep it down at first, keeping it to just a few low grunts because he thinks you don’t want to hear it. after a couple times you notice he’s struggling and trying to suppress it, and once you realize that and tell him you want to hear him, he never shuts up. and his moans are godly. just thinking about his pretty moans can have you soaked through your panties.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

would love when you ride his thigh. thinks you look so fucking hot making yourself feel good on him, cumming on his thigh. sometimes he’ll guide your hips to help you, or bounce his leg. will occasionally have you do it as punishment, make you get off just by grinding on his thigh, and won’t help you. he knows you’re tired after so he does the rest of the work from there.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

based on vibes i wanna say he’s packing like 8-9 inches but i’ve seen certain photos of him in tight shorts that leave little to the imagination so idk… could be 4. then again i’ve seen photos where it looks bigger so really idk what to think, but regardless he knows how to use it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

this man is always ready. of course he would never do anything if you weren’t in the mood though. if you’re not into it, neither is he. but like i said, it’s not hard to get him going, so if you want it, he’s always ready.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

pretty quickly honestly. once aftercare is done you’re both out like a light, wrapped up in each other’s arms. sometimes you talk for a while but usually it doesn’t last long as you pass out fast. you wear each other out.

[maryleclerc]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 (𝐈𝐈)

pairing: matt rempe x ballerina!reader ; jack hughes x ballerina!reader

summary: you can read part 1 for the context, cause if i write the summary i think i might spoil the whole fic

warning: english is not my native language, mention of cheating, being a single mom. this was written base on my imagination, please don’t take seriously.

a/n: yes i know i know i re-write this to make it better cause the 1st version of it quite not my liking so, hope this version be better

taglist: add yourself here. add to be tag in my next part!!

🎧 francesca by hozier

yourusername

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yourusername Finally I can show off my pretty, healthy baby girl. Meet my little princess Francesca Pearl Y/l/n 💗👑

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user1 aww hi Francesca, i’m Francesca too

user2 She does not said she’s a single mom but I know she is, and that’s made me love her even more

user3 @/jackhughes regret? too bad, too late already :(())

jackhughes with dbareux

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jackhughes Daisy and I are engaged 💗

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user1 Congratz Jack and Daisy, love you both

user2 Damn didn’t know her pussy is that good :))

user3 Omgosh what is this now

user4 tbh I’m so embarrassed when I am both Jack and Daisy fan. After knowing all the things happened to Y/n and her daughter

yourusername

liked by alleyrempe, yourfrienduser and 78,669 others

yourusername First time being back after awhile

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alleyrempe ☀️☀️

user1 How do you feel about Jack getting marry soon

user2 Let me answer it for her, she don’t fucking care and stop asking those stupid ass question

user3 She’s so pretty

nhlwags_andthewag

6,201 likes

nhlwags_andthewag [TODAY WAG] After receiving news that Jack and Daisy were engaged, Y/n officially unfollowed Jack on Instagram after 5 years of following each other on Instagram. Additionally, she followed Matt Rempe, Alley Rempe (Matt's sister) and the New York Rangers this morning, Alley also comment on Y/n post. Is this related to recent rumors made by NYR fans? Leave a comment below if you think the same as me

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user1 I know this is their privacy but I gotta say they’re dating and I think they both are in a serious relationship

user2 Well I mean she’s well known in the NHL so might be friend support friend. Ya know it’s hard to be a single mom such a young age, a supporter is really a need

user3 @/nhl_deuxmoi Can you confirm this??

user4 The easiest thing to confirm is to wait until NJD and NYR are on the same ice next week, I'm a fan of NYR and I know Matt, he looooves a good fight.

mattrempe

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mattrempe Great time in Maine, celebrating Cloe and Connors wedding!!

tagged: alleyrempe

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alleyrempe Brother

user1 Ngl Y/n rumors boyfriend look good af

user2 And he tall too

y/n and matt ig story

[teekays]

hello! if memory serves you are the blog that talked about boy band pretty as a marketing tactic (or something to that effect? the search function does not work so if i’m wrong i’m terribly sorry) and i was wondering if you would be willing to find someone from each team (can include prospects if you want) to create the ultimate nhl boy band. this is not a necessary thing to do, solely shits and gigs and if you ever feel like it doing it. have a lovely day!

HIIIIIII that WAS me and you sent this at the perfect time because i am at the laundromat with time to kill and i LOVE to discuss this.... let's chop it up.... a few disclaimers: this is subjective so don't get mad at me and i will be including prospects and ahl players where i know its applicable BUT for most of these teams i will be going off the main roster + looks alone because if i did a full deep dive vibes analysis on every team's roster and prospects it would take me like two months to answer this ask... you understand. we are being SHALLOW here today in the true spirit of the boy band industry. let's go!!!

carolina hurricanes: i know everyone wants me to say sebastian aho but he is 1) too old 2) too unsettling looking. the elf on the shelf is not boy band pretty im sorry 😭 i do love him but he's just not the vibe here... i will say based on looks either scott morrow or jackson blake and his 90s heartthrob hair. i want to say seth jarvis because he's my special pop pop but that does contradict almost everything i have said previously so i will not be biased but know that if he was a pop star i would be his biggest fan i would kiss his poster. and that's my truth

columbus blue jackets: in the interest of journalistic integrity i went to their roster instead of just saying it's obviously kj as the intimidating aloof one in the boy ("boy") band but actually i do think it's cole sillinger.... teen heartthrob. also i didn't know that he was born in columbus because his dad was playing for the team and his brother is also on the team??? imagine having a whole destiny like that and its for COLUMBUS OHIO 😭

new jersey devils: jack hughes. open and shut case argue with the WALL

new york islanders: NOT MAT BARZAL. HE LOOKS 35. STAND UP LADIES!!! lowkey i do not know any of these dudes and this roster is kind of busted as fuck 😭😭😭 (NOT ANTHONY DUCLAIR who is too old to be a boy band boy but who i do love) bargain bin team... anyway isaiah george YOU! are the only cute person the new york islanders

new york rangers: matt rempe. those pictures of him lounging around on the phone??? wow. no words. diva heartthrob behavior. it's sad what they're doing to him what are we doing to our beautiful queens :(

philadelphia flyers: after much careful deliberation.... i think denver barkey is taking it. denver is such a deeply boy band name tbh he was born for this!!! i know everyone thinks it's jamie (who i still forget is a flyer 😭) but can you imagine him on a stage? singing a song? they are reinventing shoegaze for him. negative star quality (AFFECTIONATE!!!!!!! LOVING!!!!!!!!!!!!)

pittsburgh penguins: well NOW the obvious answer is rutger mcgroarty... not even worth going through that senior center roster when he's there tbh sorry pens

washington capitals: AGAIN. SENIOR CENTER ROSTER. i had to go to their prospects page to find someone suitable and my vote is patrick leonard he's a cutie!!! also im so sorry to say this but my jaw dropped when i got to this guy why are you playing hockey you need to make a children's album RIGHT NOW. i know he could do a banger cover of the We're going on a bear hunt song. but i digress...

boston bruins: matthew poitras is adorable and exudes star quality NEXTTTT. shoutout also brett harrison who looks like a long lost jonas brother

buffalo sabres: JACK QUINNN JQUIZZY HIMSELF partly for looks mostly for vibes... he has extreme "jack dylan grazer vape apology video" energy and also he has that boyish charm... either him or devon levi (hot) not miss owen power for the same reasons as jamie. she could never be a pop star 😔 ryan mcleod used to be the oilers popstar boy but now he's got too much competition he's a little niche for the title

detroit red wings: my gut tells me simon edvinsson but a look at the roster tells me there is some competition in the form of amadeus lombardi... if we were discussing this two years ago mo seider would be the obvious answer but he's too grizzled now 😔

florida panthers: 🙄 here comes another busted fucking roster... i guess denisenko??? panthers are not really representing here....

montreal canadiens: ARBER <3 he's like the bad boy hottie in the boy band. the one that makes your dad shake his head when he sees him on tv

ottawa senators: wow the atlantic division is fucking WACK this was another case of like. okay i guess ill pick one of yous but REALLY? so congratulations jorian donovan YOU are in the boy band

tampa bay lightning: seriously what is going on in this division. jack finley looks like he was the closeted one in a boy band from the early 2000s but he's aged past that now and he has a husband and a wine brand.... so we will bring him back for nostalgia points. welcome to the team. also i have to be honest i thought of myself as pretty well acquainted with the ahl but the SYRACUSE CRUNCH? that's crazy

leafs: JOSEPH WOLL! boyish charm out the ears on that one. a real cutie

chicago: obviously it's bedard. we all know it's bedard. on the surface he has no charisma but he does have a certain kind of shy boy charm and he IS adorable... he's the one in the boy band who makes your mom tut over him like "he seems like a nice boy"

colorado avalanche: wow huge props to matt stienburg for having maybe the single most boy band roster photo i have seen yet... THIS is the guy they get in the boy band because he's already had huge success with his hit single called like, Heart React Girlfriend or whatever. this is jacob sartorius if he played hockey. this is chase dreams. this kid is going places

dallas stars: it's obviously wyjo, joining the ranks with cbedard as The Nice One <3

minnesota wild: okay i was going to say brock faber because every group needs a kevin jonas (SORRY BROCK) but WHO is kyle masters and why does he look like knockoff brendan brisson. budget briss. diet briss. we have briss at home.

nashville predators: this just reminded me cody glass is a penguin now 💔 anyway the preds have some STRONG contenders here wow.... jeremy hanzel is taking it but i think luke evangelista could pull it off... now if you asked me to be really subjective it would be ozzy wiesblatt who would also be the subject of much poster kissing and rigged "which member of the nhl boy band should you date" tests so i get him as the result but that's just me....

st louis blues: jeremie biakabutuka your radiant smile has charmed me.... welcome to the band....

utah whatevers: MONTANA ONYEBUCHI I AM SO FUCKING SORRY THE SHARKS DIDNT APPRECIATE YOU. BUT WE WILL..... also matt villalta kinda giving off brand kj... you could build a whole off brand version of that umich team just with guys from other teams i bet

winnipeg jets: dylan coghlan you will always be famous to ME but i fear you are a little too old for our purposes here.... other than him they kinda don't have a lot going for them.... brayden yager it is your time to shine as off brand owen power ♥️

anaheim ducks: some strong competition here... tz is the obvious choice but i think we need to think bigger... olen zellwegger please step forward....

calgary flames: matt coronato i am free on thursday if you would like to hang out on thursday when i am free and also join this boy band

edmonton oilers: yet another old ass roster 😭 they're lucky they got so many sabres because matt savoie is saving their asses rn

los angeles kings: angus booth is smizing in every single photo i saw of him so. come on now

san jose sharks: it's so obviously will smith i don't even know what we're doing here tbh

seattle kraken: tye kartye looks like he would be into white water rafting so he can be the nature guy in the boy band.... strong competition from tucker robertson but he's just a touch too gay porn for this vibe

vancouver canucks: JETT WOO... HELLO.... but also shoutout cole mcward for having 2014 gay youtuber phenotype. a connor franta troye sivan type face if ive ever seen one

vegas golden knights: BRISS ‼️‼️‼️ my little tabloid queen... not only is he in the boy band but he's in the news and the media. he was born to be a star. natural ham. child actor energy. alex holtz is also a strong contender for this but i think he's off on his own doing his little pop star solo act thing

this took way longer than laundromat time but it was worth it i had so much fun!!!!! thank you!!!!!!

[tyrelbauer]

can you do a matt rempe x reader where she just gets super worried about him fighting a getting hurt. or maybe one where she tells him she’s pregnant?? or maybe even a mux of both lol?! i love your writing!!!!💗

"Did You Say Something About A Baby?" Pairing: Matt Rempe x Fem!reader Summary: Matt keeps getting in fight after fight and you finally have enough. Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, swearing, angst.

Matt walks into your shared apartment, his black eye looking worse than it did this morning.

"I'm home." He tells you, walking into the living room.

"I see."

"You okay?"

"Mhm."

"No you're not. You're giving me attitude."

You shrug and go back to watching your show, deciding that giving him the silent treatment was probably best so you wouldn't go and snap at him.

"Can you at least tell me why your mad at me?"

"You already know the answer to that Matthew." You say, keeping your focus on the tv in front of you.

"Because I got in another fight?" He asks, picking up the tv remote and pausing it so you had no choice but to pay attention to him.

"We talked about you not fighting multiple times, Matt.

"I can't help it."

"Yes, you can!"

You stand up and go to walk past him, but he stops you.

"Why are you so worried about me fighting! I can handle myself!"

"It's not that I think you can't handle yourself, Matthew! I just don't want anything to fucking happen to you!"

"Nothing is going to happen to me."

"You don't know that! It's bad enough I'm stressing about the baby! I shouldn't have to be stressing about you too!"

You push past him before he can reply and walk down the hallway to your guys' room.

He gives you a couple minutes to cool down before coming back to talk to you.

"I'm sorry. You asked me to stop and I should have."

"I-I'm just worried about you."

"I know."

He sits down on the bed beside you and wraps you in a hug as you cry into his chest.

"Did you say something about a baby?"

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away. I didn't even mean to tell you like that. I wanted to tell you in a cute way." You say, moving to look at him.

He wipes your tears and leans in and kisses you.

"I love you."

"I l-love you too."

"When did you find out?"

"Like two weeks ago."

"You've known for two weeks and didn't tell me? What happened to the girl who couldn't keep secrets from me?"

"To be fair, you have been away for hockey, and I obviously wasn't going to tell you over the phone."

"Yeah, that's fair. Do you want to go shopping for baby stuff tomorrow?"

"We don't even know what we're having yet."

"So? We can still get a couple outfits."

"I mean I might have already started…"

He laughs, kissing your forehead. "I should've known. You're always one step ahead of me."

"I try," you tease, resting your head on his chest. "But yes, I'd love to go shopping for baby stuff tomorrow."

[paladin--strait]

27 - matt rempe!!

thank u so muchhhhh

rival player chirps player about reader, player goes crazy (athletes only)

sorry it's so short 🫠 i hope you like it! if not, let me know and i'll see what i can do! :) this relationship might sound a little toxic and i promise that's not what i intended so i'm sorry 😭🙏

-

my mind is racing and my heart is pounding, i don't know what happened, but i know it wasn't good.

all of a sudden, matt is practically jumping on a player from the other team. matt has him pinned to the ground, throwing punches straight to his face. when multiple of the officials attempted to pull matt off of him, he turned a threw a punch straight to one of the officials faces.

i gasp, holding a hand to my mouth when i feel someone place a hand on my back, trying to comfort me. i assume it's one of the wags, but i can't look to see who it is before i take off running for the hallway that leads to the locker room, somehow making my way through the sea of fans that are pounding on glass, cheering on my boyfriend.

matt's teammates manage to pull him off the now unconscious player and lead him back into the hallway, but he's already in the locker room before i can get to him. as i make it to the door of the rangers locker room, security holds a hand out to me, telling me that they can't let me in at the moment, that i have to wait for everyone but matt to leave.

when they finally walk out, i storm in, stomping over to matt, his sitting at his locker, his face in his hands. "matt! what the fuck was that!?" i don't yell at him, but my voice is stern.

when he doesn't even raise his head to look at me, i know something must have been happening the whole game for a fight like that to ensue. i bend down, placing my hands on his lower knee, "matt...i'm sorry for waking in on you like that...do you wanna tell me what happened?"

he still doesn't raise his head, but his suddenly shaking shoulders tell me everything i need to know. i sit beside him and pull him into a hug. i whisper small words of encouragement in his ear while he cries on my shoulder. matt never cries, especially in front of me.

he told me once that he never has and never wants to cry in front of me because he didn't want me to see him, my giant and strong boyfriend, in such a weak and vulnerable state.

my hand runs down his back, tracing small shapes on his back as his cries get softer, soon turning into just sniffles before he pulls away and looks at me. "i'm sorry...i don't know what came over me..." he looks down at his bruised and beaten hands. "when he said that, all i could think about was punching his face in...so i did..."

i look at him with confusion, "what did he say?" i ask, returning my hand to his back. he doesn't answer. "matt...what did he say?"

when he looks up at me, i swear i see a different man in his eyes. one that wants to protect the ones he loves and would do anything to keep them safe. his eyes bore into mine, squinting as he thinks about whether he should tell me or not.

"he was talking about you the whole game...talked about how beautiful you were and how he thought you would be even more beautiful in his bed or some shit like that...but when he said that he was going to take you for himself, i heard enough." he looks away as he speaks, and i can hear the anger and almost possession in his voice.

my eyes soften. "matt..." he cuts me off before i can speak any further.

"i didn't care about the consequences, and i still don't care about them, but he needs to understand that you're mine." he locks eyes with me again, and that man that i saw for the first time a few minutes ago is back, only stronger. "i don't want these people to think they can talk about you like that. i would do anything for you...to keep you safe..."

"but matt...you didn't have to fight him like you did-"

"yes i did. he needed to know his place." he huffs, slapping his hands against his knees. "now he knows it and he'll stay there."

i sigh, looking at him with a soft smile, knowing that nothing will ever change his mind. "thank you...for standing up for me and taking care of me. i love you, matt. you're more than just my boyfriend, you're my lover and my protector. i'll never leave you, especially for some douche bag like him. you put him in his place, matt."

i stand up from my seat beside him so i can take a seat on his lap, wrapping my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck. "you'll always take care of me...and i'll always take care of you. thank you, baby." i run my finger over a fresh cut on his cheek, it's small, but large enough and deep enough to have bled down his cheek slightly.

his eyes meet mine and once again i see my sweet matt. his eyes have softened, and a gentle blush grazes his cheeks. his lips are curved into a smile, chuckling while he wraps his arms around me, pulling me close to him and hugging me tight. he whispers something in my ear about protecting me from all those bad, scary, men.

we stay like this until it nears the end of the game. matt changes out of his gear and into normal clothes, and waits for his team to file into the locker room after a grueling and tiring win.

i stand, going to walk away and out of the locker room after saying a small goodbye to matt before a hand grabs my arm. i turn to see jacob, looking at me with worried eyes. "are you okay? i heard what he said to matt before...you know. are you alright?"

i smile at him, reassuring him that i'm okay before i say a thank you. he asks me how matt is, and i tell him that i think he's alright, just a little shaken up since he didn't know that he could be capable of such a brutal takedown. he gives me a short but tight hug before he takes his seat in front of his locker and i make my way out.

-

once i hit the bed, my body almost immediately shuts down, the tiring day now catching up to me. matt takes off his clothes, and changes into a loose pair of sweatpants. he smiles at me and pulls me close, tucking us deep into the cold sheets.

i shiver and matt begins flailing his long legs around under the covers. i giggle, "matty...what are you doing?" i ask, in a fit of giggles and laughter.

"i'm warming it up under here for you. i know you love it cold, but you don't like to shiver in bed. so, i'm being your personal space heater." he laughs while he speaks.

our night ends happily, and we almost forget that matt has been suspended for five games.

[jiminy-crickets]

why is it always my posts about matt rempe that get a bunch of notes??????? why god why!!!!! i cant, i cant be known as the 'age appropriate but weird psycosexual crush on 6'7 matt rempe, who gets horny when he's covered in blood and bruises, or is getting beat up' blogger, i need i NEED to be known as the 'paces in circles while muttering about how 'connor bedard is cursed, he signed his contract on his 18th birthday, he will never have a normal young adulthood, he didn't have normal teenage years, even as first draft pick he still didn't think he would make the team so his coach had to tell his mom that they should start looking for apartments in the city, the only time he seems happy in interviews are when people ask him about his playing and they never fucking do, the hawks sent him to nhl media weekend before he ever played a single game, hes only 18 there is no way this can be healthy, everyone is looking at him but no one seems to care what is actually happening to him' who makes posts about warping space and time to send connor to university for a year so he can have a normal life for some miniscule amount of time" blogger.

[stereax]

☕️ things you think the nhl genuinely does well for their players? And/or things you wish could/would change in the org?

I think, to start, you need to overhaul how player safety works. The lack of consequences for players is nuts. Repeat offenders need to be penalized appropriately. You can't let dangerous players like Matt Rempe continue to be the poster children for CTE.

Player assistance - I'm not sure how effective this is. We've had players like Valeri Nichushkin fail it; we've had former players like Scott Darling deride it. We've also had players like Spencer Knight and Connor Ingram who've cited the help they get from it as crucial to their mental health.

THE MEDICAL STAFF. Oh my god the medical teams are AWFUL in the NHL. I know it's the standard to play through injuries but holy fuck. On the Devils alone we had three cases of medical staff failing to spot a concussion or other major injury after a head hit and letting players continue to play for several more shifts before pulling them. You hear actual horror stories annually of players saying "oh, I messed up my shoulder in game 4 and played with it the entire season" (Tim Stutzle) or "oh, my knee's been fucked since January, sorry for not putting up more points" (Elias Pettersson) or "oh, I played a playoff game with a broken sternum and I couldn't even dress myself, so if I got hit there, there's a chance I could have died" (Matthew Tkachuk). We're seeing that players who prioritize their health, who sit out to recover instead of pushing their bodies (think Sidney Crosby here) are able to continue playing at a high level past 35, when previously this was considered too old to be a top talent NHL player.

Tying into that, LTIR. Teams need to be incentivized to use LTIR so that their stars can heal, goddamn it. You tell me "close the cap circumvention loopholes", I reply "I'd prefer if players are playing healthy and not forced to play while hurt, and LTIR is a major step in allowing players to heal without penalizing a team for their injuries". I don't know why it's a buzz topic now that teams like Vegas are "abusing LTIR" - good??? Every team in the league should "abuse LTIR" if it means helping to preserve the quality of life for its players down the line??? Why is this controversial???

But also - players who are definitely not coming back to play in the NHL (think Shea Weber, Carey Price, Nicklas Backstrom) should have the ability to retire without losing out on the final years of their contract while not penalizing the teams with them on their roster. Currently, these players undergo "LTIRetirement", a process where they're stashed on the LTIR until their contract is up, at which point they officially retire. This not only disadvantages the teams carrying these contracts but also puts unnecessary burdens on these players. Think how the 2018 WJC perpetrators were considered "NHL non-roster", effectively having no cap hit, and do something similar for LTIRetirement.

Just... eugh, I really wish some fundamentals about hockey culture and the culture of injury were changed. Every time I hear about how a player is trying to regain day-to-day functioning after an injury (go read up on Tanner Pearson's hand injuries and how the Canucks bungled the surgeries), part of me dies inside. Jack Eichel literally had to force his own trade out of his team because the Sabres weren't willing to give him medical autonomy. Which is another thing - the player should ALWAYS have final say in their injury treatment, not the teams. Whoever decided that... I'm shaking my fist.

[turcott3]

https://www.tumblr.com/turcott3/752590033230413824/listen-here-my-concept-on-matt-was-being-a-good

This was so so sooo good I’m already anxious for another part

second, first

matt rempe x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, kissing, smut, oral sex female receiving, unprotected sex, and copious amounts of fluff!!!!!

part 1 and masterlist

matt was coming over tonight, just like he did on the same day every week. this was gonna be the first time you’d seen him since he’d taught you how to, to be frank, suck dick. you were nervous because you knew what today was. you promised him last time that the next time you saw him would be the time you went all the way, because that’s what you said you wanted.

that scared you.

not because you didn’t trust him, you trusted him more than anything in the world, or that you didn’t want to, of course you wanted to, you were just scared that maybe he’d changed his mind. maybe he didn’t wanna have sex with you anymore.

oh my god, what if he didn’t?

what if he comes and tells you he doesn’t want to move forward? or what if he forgot, what if he’s talking to someone else? what if he doesn’t even show u-

your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of loud taps on your front door, shoving you back into reality.

“hi.” you smile lightly, one of his hands behind his back.

“hi y/n, i got this for you while i was on my way here. picked the best one” he says, presenting a single rose and handing it to you, showing you to the part of the stem that had no thorns. as cliché as it is, your heart melted at the thought.

“awe matt this beautiful, thank you so much.” you reply.

“of course,” he smiles stepping into your apartment, pulling you to his chest.

“i’m making dinner.” you smile as he follows you into the kitchen.

“i love me a women that cooks.” he smirks, a blush spreading across your face. he finds one of the vases from your cabinets and puts the rose in a fair amount of water, placing it on your counter.

“and don’t worry, there’s plenty for both of us,” you say, finishing up your cooking. you were sure to start early so that it’d be ready when he arrived, but also to help soothe your nerves.

you sat together on the couch watching a movie after you’d both finished your meal. you found yourself comfortably under his arm, your head leaned on his shoulder. two weeks ago, you’d never imagine being in this position. you couldn’t tell if it was awkward or if there was any sort of negative tension. you sat there, toying with the hem of his shorts as a way to calm your nerves. you were sat cuddled up with your childhood best friend who you were now certain that you wanted more from.

you wanted him and no one else.

“you okay?” he asks quietly, leaning his head down closer to your ear.

“oh uh, yeah i’m okay.” you reply with a week smile. quickly, he picks up the remote and pauses the movie, removing his arm from you. suddenly, you were picked up and moved, straight onto his lap. he gave you a moment to adjust, straddling his hips innocently.

fuck.

“what up with you? you’re acting so shy and quiet.” he asks again, hands placed lightly on your thighs.

“nothing matt, i swear.” you reply, making spotty eye contact with the boy.

“y/n, look at me. if you’re nervous, just tell me okay? i’m not here to embarrass you or anything like that. you know that.” he continues, thumbs rubbing lightly across the skin of your legs.

“i am nervous. i’ve been anxious since i woke up this morning.” you admit tearfully.

“come here.” he coos, pulling you to his chest, nuzzling your head under his chin.

“we don’t have to do anything if you’re not ready sweet girl.” he says, rubbing his hands soothingly up and down your back as you collected yourself for a few minutes.

“no no i do want to matt, i just-“ you paused briefly.

“tell me.” he pushes gently.

“my first time was so long ago that i feel like it’s just fizzled away, i don’t remember what it felt like. it feels like it’s my first time all over again. i’m nervous i won’t do it right.” you say sitting up.

“it’s your second, first.” he smiles, trying to crack you, which of course ended up working.

“which is why i’m so scared.” you sigh.

“don’t be scared y/n, i got you.” he replies with a sweet smile, wiping the short tears that ended up falling.

“i know.” you smile as he presses a sweet kiss to your cheek.

“do you wanna go to your bed?” he asks softly and you nod as he picks you up, carrying you back to your room, just like he’d done before. you laid your head on his shoulder as you watched the living room disappear behind your doorway. he pushes the door shut quietly, laying you down on your bed gently, connecting your lips for the first time tonight. that same feeling from last time kicked in in an instant. you wrapped your arms around, behind his neck holding him close to you. he pulls away only a few inches.

“are you ready for me?” he asks and you nod.

“i didn’t forget what you wanted by the way.” he giggles, remembering that you’d said you wanted him to perform the same actions on you, that you did on him.

“you didn’t?”

“of course not, how could i?” he laughs standing up removing his shirt as you pulled your sweats off. you stripped evenly, just as you had before, once again down to just your underwear. he reconnected your lips, his hands wandering down your torso and around your back, goosebumps trailing his rough hands. his fingers find their way under the band of your underwear, not budging yet.

“is this okay?” he asks, lightly tugging down on your panties.

“yes.” you replied nervously as he carefully pulled them down, tossing them to the side. he pulls you by your ankles closer to the end of your bed.

“tell me if you want to stop.” he says before kissing up your inner thigh, his hands gripped on the outside of them. you grew wet as the heat of his breath grew closer to your pussy and gasped as his tongue made careful contact. your hands balled up the sheets in your fists.

“oh fuck.” you groan, squeezing your eyes shut. you couldn’t believe how he was making you feel. his tongue swirling and sucking on your clit, pushing you further along than you ever thought you could. you grew impossibly hornier as you looked down and locked eyes with the brunette who was tongue deep in your wetness. this moment of eye contact didn’t last long as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your orgasm coming incredibly close.

“matt.” you moaned, tugging on the boys hair as he continued, his lips sucking one last time before pulling away, your wetness soaking his face. you yanked him by his wrists back to you, anxiously attaching your lips, not carrying that his face was buried between your legs just seconds ago.

“fuck that was hot.” he giggles pulling away.

“you’re hot.” you reply shoving him away giggling.

“are you sure you want to keep going?” he asks.

“yes, i’m sure.”

“okay baby, all you need to do is just relax. lay there looking fucking beautiful and i’ll guide you through everything, just like he should’ve done the last time. that okay?” he asks, unclasping your bra with ease, helping you tug it off your arms. you nod your head vigorously in response.

“no, use your words y/n. i need to hear you say that it’s okay.” he says tossing the bra onto the floor.

“yes matt, that’s okay.” you respond loving his pushy thoughtfulness. you truly felt protected and cared for by him, in every possible scenario. you’d never felt more comfortable. he made sure you were safe and went out of his way to make the night about you, just like last time.

“okay.” he smiles, leaning down to kiss you once again before removing his boxers, revealing his already hard cock. you’d almost forgotten how big he actually was. you went wide eyed as he jerked himself off a few times, growing impossibly harder.

“baby, eyes up here. just look at me okay. i don’t want you to be nervous.” he says lowly, your eyes diverting to his brown ones.

“i’m scared that it’s gonna hurt matt, you’re so big.”

“i won’t hurt you angel, i wouldn’t dream of it. i’ll go slow. remember, this is about you and your body, not mine.” he says positioning himself above you, running his thick cock through your soaking folds.

“tell me when you need a second.” he says.

“okay.” you reply as you gripped onto his biceps. slowly, he pushed his tip into you, earning an audible hiss from you. he stops abruptly and pulls away for a moment.

“relax. just breathe okay, it’s gonna be fine.” he giggles, knowing that he couldn’t push further until you fully relaxed your body.

“sorry.”

“don’t apologize. you can trust me baby, i promise.” he repeats, reaffirming why you’d chosen him to share this intimate moment with. he repeats his action, pushing his head in a little bit further, your grip on his biceps growing stronger. he pushes a little bit further, a bit of his shaft entering as well.

“stop.” you say gritting your teeth.

“take your time y/n. no rush.” he says as you nod for him to push further. you still felt sharp pain but chose to power through, allowing him to finally bottom out, not yet moving further. you felt full, no more room for a single other inch.

“okay you can move, just go slow.” you say and he nods, beginning to retract his hips, that feeling of fullness disappearing as his cock slid out of you. it hurt almost as badly as he thrusted back into you slowly, your hands moving to his cheeks, pulling him to your lips, distracting yourself from the subsiding pain. his thrusts became slightly quicker, just as deep and thorough as before. you only broke apart the kiss when a moan was ripped from your throat, euphoria washing over your body.

“that’s my girl.” he giggles above you before tucking his head into your neck, sucking and upping on the skin of your neck as his hips snapped into you smoothly. the sound of skin slapping started to catch up to the volume of your moans.

“god matt, you feel so fucking good.” you whine as you tug on his hair, his head still nuzzled under your chin, his hands now placed underneath your back, holding you flush against his chest. you tugged him away from your neck locking eyes with him as his thrusts somehow became deeper and harder.

“fit so perfect around me.” he grunts out, reattaching your lips. his kisses started to feel like oxygen to you. like you couldn’t function unless your lips were on his. you couldn’t believe the feelings he gave you. they were so complex, yet you knew exactly what you were feeling toward him. you felt so taken care of by him, even in this moment. he paid attention to detail putting your pleasure first.

“i think im gonna cum.” you moan, squeezing your eyes shut.

“come on baby, let go for me. cum on my cock.” he says, his hips snapping sharply into you, your moans moving up an octave. instantly, you felt your whole body relax. shockwaves of pleasure shuttering through your body as you shook vigorously through your orgasm.

“such a good girl.” he says lowly, fucking you all the way through your high.

“i’m getting close.” he grunts as you smile, enjoying the feeling of your orgasm fizzling away as you were fucked right through it, sad once the feeling of his cock disappeared from inside you.

“oh fuck.” he moans, spurting his climax onto your stomach, jerking himself dry. he stays over you for a moment catching his breath.

“stay right here, okay? i’m gonna clean you up.” he says and you nod as he walked to the bathroom, returning with a damp rag, carefully wiping away the cum from your lower abdomen. the two of you climbed under the covers facing each other.

“i give you an A+ on the munch.” you joke and he laughs.

“i’m glad it was good.” he giggles.

“matt it was more than good. everything was fucking incredible. god it felt so fucking good.”

“that’s exactly what you deserve y/n.” he replies with a light giggle, moving your hair off of your face.

“like you don’t understand, i’ve never felt that, fuck i don’t even know how to say it. i’ve never felt that cared for in my life.” you giggle, interlocking your fingers with his.

“i love you y/n,” he starts, startling himself, “oh shit did i just say that out loud?” he giggles, covering his mouth quickly, the two of you laughing together.

“i love you too matt.” you reply.

“for real?” he responds, eyes wide.

“yes matt, i fucking love you.” you say, placing your hands on his cheeks before turning him over and climbing onto his lap.

“oh my gosh, i don’t even know what to say.” he says, blushing nervously.

“don’t get all nervous on me now.” you giggle as he pulls you to his chest.

“and you’re never gonna have to go without me ever again.” he says into your hair, kissing you on the head.

your heart melted at the sound of his voice reassuring you that you’d never have to go another day without his love for you. you’d never felt more content in your life and you couldn’t believe you’d finally found a love that you’d always dreamed of, with someone you’d known your entire life.

it was right in front of you all along.

had you been ignoring your feelings all this time? or was this new?

you didn’t know, nor did you care at this point because you knew you’d found the love of your life. the search was finally over.

-

[chukys-mouthguard]

Kinda Tempting pt. 3

Part 2

Word count: 3.7k

Featuring: mat barzal x female reader x matt rempe

Warnings: this gets a bit angsty (sorry to my rempe gang)

Note: I thinkkk I have an idea of where I want this to go, but hopefully you all like this part? Please feel free to send me some feedback because i love hearing your thoughts!!

-

What were you doing?

You’d told Mat that you needed some time to think about his proposal, asking if he’d be okay with you heading home to sleep on it. He of course agreed, understand it was a lot to take in and think about. Not wanting to pressure you into saying something right then and there.

But here you were, at Matthew Rempe’s apartment.

“Well hey there sunshine!”

Matthew’s signature dorky grin plastered on his face as you stood in his doorway, a not so excited look on your face.

“Shit, is everything okay?”

He took your hand and pulled you into his apartment, wrapping you in a hug. Not knowing what was wrong, just sensing you needed it. The second you felt his arms around you the tears immediately started flowing.

All the emotions overwhelming you as you’d finally felt comfortable enough to just let yourself feel something.

“Hey, hey hey. Talk to me y/n. What’s going on?”

Matthew tried to calm you down, to settle your breathing as he pulled you over to sit on the couch. He wiped away your tears as he waited for you to finally tell him what had you so worked up.

“Did the date not go well?”

“No, it, well not at first. But-“

Matthew’s gaze fell to the floor as he knew in his heart these were tears of sadness, not because you and Mat were back on good terms. But instead because you’d come to end whatever fun you two briefly had. You didn’t have to say a word, your body language saying it all.

“You guys are back on good terms?”

Simply nodding, not able to formulate a word let alone a sentence as your mind was still focusing on the hardest part you had to tell Matthew. He smiled at you as he took a deep breath.

“Well, I’m happy for you, honest. And I-“

“That’s not everything…”

He looked to you concerned as you nervously picked at your fingers, the words so difficult to say you as you two sat in silence for what felt like forever.

“He, he asked me to marry him.”

Matthew’s jaw practically on the floor, his knuckles clenching as he stood up. Pacing the floor he tried to figure out what to say. While he wanted to be happy for you, it hurt his heart knowing that he’s opportunity to have anything with you had just gone out the window.

“And you said yes?”

He stared at you as you shook your head. “I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. I told him I needed time. It was so sudden, and after everything that’s been going on. I couldn’t give him an answer that I wasn’t 100% sure about.”

Matt nodded as he sat back down, this time leaving a bit of space between the two of you. Which you’d noticed and didn’t appreciate, still confused and feeling like you needed his comfort.

“Well, do you, do you want to marry him?”

“Fuck Matthew I don’t know!”

You didn’t mean to shout, it sort of just coming out as you ran a hand through your hair. “I don’t know what I want. Just yesterday I was so sure my relationship was going to shit that I cheated on Mat with you. Then today, the date starts awful, we get into an argument, we fuck, and then he’s proposing to me. I just-I have no fucking clue what I want.”

He watched you going through all the emotions, unsure as to what he should say or do. Things seeming different now that he didn’t feel like he could comfort you the same way he would’ve yesterday. He kept his hands to himself, mostly just responding verbally rather than physically. Though he hated feeling like he had to be that way. He wanted so badly to hold you, to kiss you, tell you it was all going to be okay.

Controlling his feelings he’d just let you be. Knowing that the last you needed was him to over complicate things even further.

But after the shit you’d be through with Mat, all of that was just wiped away now because he proposed? You were just supposed to forget how shitty you’d felt for months? He wanted to be respectful, but he could see how torn you were. How much you wanted to know the answer but no one could give you that except yourself.

“I wish I could tell you what to do,” he slightly chuckled as he took your hand, “but unfortunately this is something you have to figure out.”

Nodding at him you tried your best to calm down, not let your thoughts run rampant as you took a deep breath. “I wish I could have it both ways.”

You joked with a laugh, wiping your tears as Matthew shook his head. “And as much as I’d love that, it’s a bit different if you’re engaged.”

“I mean, it’s still cheating if I’m engaged or not.” You playfully argued back, making Matt shrug. “I don’t know, engagement makes things seem more serious, a bit more difficult to call off. So, I just think it’s different, I don't know.”

The two of you sat in silence as you’d finally calmed down. Letting out a sigh as you glanced at Matthew, sitting on his phone.

“Do you not like me now?”

He quickly looked up at you, raising an eyebrow as he immediately shook his head. “Not a chance I’d stop liking you just because he proposed. Plus, you didn’t technically say yes yet.” He shot you a wink before he headed off to his bedroom to change.

“So you still think you’ve got a chance with me then huh?”

Playfully questioning as you’d followed behind him, leaning against the wall in the hallway while he pulled on some sweats then joined you back out in the kitchen.

“I mean, I’m always going to think I have a chance with you. I could sense it just from the connection we have. But, I can respect if you choose to get married to him that I’d need to back off. Can’t say I’d be happy about it, but I’d respect it.”

He grabbed you a beer from the fridge, cracking it open before he slid it across the counter into your hand.

“I just, I’ve got a lot to think about. I mean, if you would’ve asked me a year ago, I would’ve told you hands down this was the man I was going to marry.”

“But?” His voice trailing off as he brought his beer to his lips.

“But, I don’t know. I still love him, and I think I want to marry him. He says he’s going to be better. Try harder. So I guess I’d need to see that before I can really say yes.”

Matt hummed in agreement as you nervously tapped the beer bottle, he smirked at the action as you continue on with your nervous thoughts. Matt just listening to you and letting you speak everything out that was in your mind.

Looking at the time, you realized it was late and there was no way Matt was letting you head home. He offered up his bed for you and he’d take the couch, but he soon regretted that as he looked like a giant sleeping on a toddler bed. Within minutes appearing in the doorway with his pillow, making you chuckle as you laid in his king sized bed comfortably.

“If you feel uncomfortable, I can suck it up and sleep out there. I really don’t want to do anything that you’re not okay with.”

Rolling your eyes you pulled the covers back, not the type to deny a grown man out of his own bed.

Turning on your side you pulled the pillow close and tried your best to get some sleep. Knowing you needed it.

“Y/n?”

Matthew’s voice soft behind you as he lay staring at the ceiling. Humming a response you signaled for him to continue.

“I, I don’t want my feelings or my opinion to cloud your decision making. I truly want nothing more than you to be happy. And if that’s with him, then I will be your biggest supporter through and through. But please don’t say no just because of anything I might say. You need to make this decision solely for yourself and with your heart.”

His words tugging at your heartstrings as you smiled against the pillow. Matthew not requiring a response as he rolled over himself, whispering a quick good night before he’d drifted off to sleep.

But by the morning, you’d be gone.

Waking up in the middle of the night, something in you didn’t feel right being in Matthew’s bed. Grabbing your clothes, you’d quickly changed before heading out the door.

Matthew hadn’t heard from you in weeks, maybe the occasional text when he’d reach out, but even around the rink he hadn’t seen much of you. Assuming you were just taking your time to think things through, him keeping his distance not wanting to overstep or cause any additional stress.

He and the boys were warming up with the soccer ball, the typical routine on game days when Matt saw you heading in their direction. He smiled, missing seeing your face as you’d been MIA as far as he was concerned.

“There she is! The future Mrs. Barzal!”

Matt snapped from his thoughts as he heard Vinny Trochek calling out to you. His heart sinking the lowest it ever could as you shyly smiled, thanking the guys for their congratulatory words as they asked to see your ring.

“Sheeeesh, the Islanders must pay him good. You bagged a good one y/n.”

Looking up from the ring on your finger your eyes immediately locking with Matt’s. The smile on your face gone as you saw the pain in his. Mouthing a quick I’m sorry before you had to head off and film a few things for pregame.

Despite his efforts to block the image of you with a ring on your finger out of his head, Matt couldn’t shake it. He said he’d be happy for you, and he was. But the last thing he expected when seeing you for the first time in weeks, was that Mat had won. That you’d actually said yes.

Matt wasn’t one to get tons of ice time, but tonight his shifts were slim, even for him. The coaches sensed he wasn’t himself, not risking putting him out there if he wasn’t one hundred percent.

“Rempe!”

Quickly looking at the assistant coach over his shoulder, he waited for further instruction.

“I don’t know what’s up your ass tonight, but we need you to get the energy back. Go out there and do your job.”

Matt shook his head, taking a deep breath before climbing over the boards. He knew the last thing he needed right now was to fight someone, especially not being entirely focused. But he couldn’t tell the coaches no. Sucking it up he skated up to the face off, signaling to the other team’s enforcer that he was dropping the gloves once the puck was in play.

Watching from your usual spot along the glass, you saw the look on Matt’s face, not wanting to watch things play out. But, your job required you to watch and film every second of it.

With the first swing it was clear Matt’s head wasn’t in it. He was shaky, punches not landing. Taking blow after blow, not able to dodge anything. It didn’t take long for him to take a punch square on the jaw, crumbling to the ice as he was dazed.

“Fuck…”

Sighing to yourself you’d stopped recording, wanting to run and check on him, though you knew he didn’t want to see you right now. This was your fault, and it was a shitty feeling.

The game had ended, the Rangers losing in embarrassing fashion. Sorting through content and editing after games like these was even harder. Having to relive everything all over again.

Closing your laptop you’d decided it was time to head home. Noticing several of the guys making their way to the parking garage, you’d slowed your pace, hoping to run into Matt.

As he emerged from the locker room, his eye already bruised and swollen, your heart sank.

“Matt…”

He barely looked at you, adjusting his backpack over his shoulders as he stopped in his tracks. Looking to the ground as you attempted to bring a hand to his cheek, which he quickly turned down.

“I’m fine, just wasn’t my best night.”

“Bullshit, I know you didn’t want to go out and fight that guy. This is my fault.”

“Y/n stop it, not everything has to be your fault okay? I just had an off night, can’t go out there and win every fight I get into.”

His voice stern as he spoke, this side of Matt not one you were used to. Shaking your head you refused to believe he just had an off night.

“Well I’m sorry, okay?”

“For what?”

Your gaze falling to the ring on your finger, Matt annoyingly sighed as he started to walk away from you.

“Matt, wait!”

“What do you want me to say! You want to say you’re right? You want me to say that it’s your fault I got my ass handed to me? Okay fine! Seeing you show up with a fucking ring on your finger broke me y/n. Hearing the guys call you the future Mrs. Barzal. I mean for fucks sake you didn’t even tell me! Do you understand how hurtful that is? I get it, it was never going to be me. It was always him. But I at least thought you cared enough to tell me what your final decision was. So yeah, sure, it was your fault tonight. Happy?”

Tears streaming down your face as he finally finished yelling. And it hurt, knowing you’d hurt him so bad. Knowing that you’d toyed with his emotions that night you’d hooked up with him, only to turn around and go right back to the man you convinced him you were walking away from. Whether you intentionally convinced him of that or not, it was clear deep down he’d thought you were.

“Congratulations y/n. I’m really fucking happy for you.”

Trying to formulate some type of response, you’d failed as your words caught in your throat. Matt walked away from you without another glance.

Quickly you wiped your tears, hoping none of the guys would be walking by and notice. Giving yourself a minute before you headed out to your car.

Once inside, you called Mat, knowing he’d had a game but it should be long over by now.

“Oh hello Mrs. Barzal.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Mat’s words, trying you best to prepare your voice to not let him know you’d been crying.

“Soon to be Mrs, not there yet babe.”

He laughed as you heard him getting into his car. “Well I’m impatient I guess. How was your night?”

“We lost…and, it was a rough night all around. But, the guys were really nice, they said congratulations.” “Yeah? That’s really nice of them! Sucks they lost, but I’m happy to know they said something. I got texts from a couple of them when I checked my phone after the game. Makes me happy to know they treat you well over there.”

“Yeah…they’re, a great group of guys.”

Mat instantly noticed the change of tone in your voice. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just, I’m overwhelmed at guess. By the support of everyone, by how excited I am to marry you, by the amount of work I still have to do as far as editing goes.” The two of you laughing as you both were now well on your ways home.

“Yeah, I get it. It’s definitely a lot. I’m feeling it a bit too. Although, my work day is now over compared to yours.” His voice trailed off, the sound of his turn signal the only thing filling the silence.

“How about I come over? I can sit with you while you edit. Maybe help you feel less overwhelmed with things?”

“No Mat, you don’t have to. It’s late, you just played a game. Honest it’s-“ “Too late, I already took the exit. I’ll be at your place in twenty minutes baby girl!”

Shaking your head you simply accepted his offer, having no choice considering he was already on his way. But happy to see him making the effort. Mat from a few months ago would’ve never offered. And it made you hopeful that you were making the right decision.

“Okay, I know I don’t have to tell you, but you’re really good at your job babe. Like seeing how you can just edit this stuff like it’s nothing. I’m blown away.”

You smiled over your shoulder at Mat, thanking him as he sat behind you while you were editing the game's footage. Needing to finish a few more clips to be ready to post the content.

“Ouch, that’s Rempe’s fight from tonight?” Shit…he doesn’t look like he was even ready. What the hell happened?”

You shrugged as you tried clipping some of the footage for your game summary video, not having much to choose from that didn’t show Matt getting his ass kicked.

“He said he had a really off night. He didn’t seem like himself from the moment I got there. I’m not sure what was wrong.”

You tried to end the conversation and hope Mat didn’t continue to talk about him, not wanting to think about the things he’d said to you earlier.

“That’s too bad, he’s been doing pretty well so far this season.”

Mat slightly leaning you forward as he got up and headed to the kitchen, grabbing a water from the fridge as you decided your video was as good as it was gonna get. Closing your laptop with a yawn, checking the time and desperately wanting to go lay down.

“He actually sent me a pretty nice text earlier too.”

“Who?”

Your eyes wide as Mat followed you to the bedroom, watching as you removed the throw pillows and drew the covers back.

“Rempe. I assume he got my number from one of the guys. Though it was a little weird since he and I never really officially met. But, maybe he felt like since you two were so close it wasn’t a big deal?”

“I mean, I don’t know if I’d say we are so close. But I get what you mean. What did he say? You said it was pretty nice?”

Mat pulled his phone from his pocket, scrolling to find the text.

“I mean, for not really knowing the guy, yeah I thought so….Hey Mat, it’s Matt Rempe. I know we haven’t really met, but I feel like I’ve gotten to know you through y/n. I heard the news tonight that you two are engaged, and I wanted to say congratulations. I saw how happy she was when the guys called her the future Mrs. Barzal, and it’s clear she’s the happiest girl in the world right now. You really do make her feel that way. And I hope you know how much she loves you and cares for you. I’m happy to see her happy, and I wish you two nothing but the best.”

“Wow…that is really nice. He said something to me, but I didn’t know he’d texted you too.”

Mat shrugged as he climbed into bed, holding a hand out for you to join him. “Yeah, I mean, plenty of guys I don’t really talk to texted me today. I feel like word traveled and people just like being happy for other people. You know?”

You smiled down at him, nodding as you looked to your bedside, “oh crap I forgot my phone. It’s gonna be dead by the morning if I don't charge it.” Mat playfully pouting as you pulled away from his grip. “Oh just hang on you big baby, I’ll be back in ten seconds!”

Quickly tiptoeing down the hall, you spotted your phone on the coffee table. Checking to see if you’d gotten any texts from Matt, not expecting him to say anything after he blew up on you. But wishful thinking…

“Ten seconds babe? Really?”

Mat laughed from the bed as you told him just a second, needing to turn off the lights you two had left on. Before returning to the bedroom you typed a text to Matt, hoping he was at least awake to read it.

But just as quickly as you’d hit send, a red exclamation mark appearing to warn you your text was not delivered. Trying again won you the same result. Thinking perhaps it was a fluke, you hit the call button as you made your rounds to shut off all the lights. But sure enough, your suspicions had been confirmed. Matt had blocked your number.

Trying not to show your annoyance, you plugged your phone in and curled up next to Mat. Doing your best to act like everything was normal.

“Closed up shop all right?”

Nuzzling into his embrace you hummed a response. “Good. So, I didn’t get to ask you a wedding question today.” Playfully you groaned as Mat laughed, “oh come on! You love the wedding questions!”

He wasn’t wrong, you did love thinking about the wedding and answering his random questions. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

“Colors, what are you thinking?”

“Mmm. Obviously New York Islanders blue and orange.”

Mat rolled his eyes as he wrapped his arms around your waist, flipping over to be on top of your as he playfully peppered you with kisses.

“Ha, ha. Very funny.”

“I thought you’d like that one.”

“I don’t care what we wear, as long as you’re my wife at the end of it.”

His fingers intertwined with yours as he kissed your lips, then moving back to your side as he filled the role of big spoon perfectly. The days events seeming meaningless now, the whirlwind of emotions subsided, as nothing could ruin the way you felt in this moment. Exactly where you were meant to be.

[workingforitallthetime]

i recently watched roadhouse (the jake gyllenhaal version) and it is very silly and very enjoyable, and i would like an au.

seamus’s grandfather dies and leaves him a bar in the florida keys. seamus immediately receives a massive offer to purchase the bar from a powerful local businessman, but he’s somehow reluctant to let the place go. he and gavin make a trip to the keys to check the place out.

they’re not as close as they used to be; they’re both at a crossroads in their respective lives; etc. they go fishing. the water is impossibly blue. something about seeing seamus in his element, here at the end of the world, florida but not really the florida that used to be theirs together, stirs something for gavin. “i think you should make a go of it,” he tells seamus, and seamus says “i will if you’ll help,” which is kind of what gavin was hoping he’d say.

the bar’s a disaster. accounts in disarray, hassles from the health department, a rough crowd that keeps getting out of hand. seamus gets increasing offers from the guy who’s pressuring him to sell. but now this is his and gavin’s place, and every morning they sit in the sun and have coffee on the deck of the dilapidated houseboat they’ve rented. seamus feels like he’s starting to find himself and maybe starting to find gavin too, and he’s not selling this bar.

gavin’s the one who takes the drastic step of offering a princely salary to a morally dubious former mma fighter to come be their bouncer. they’re about to lose their insurance if they can’t curb the violence at the bar. ryan leonard is vehemently not interested but after some sparkling banter with gavin he decides he’s in.

as leno settles into life in the keys and starts kicking ass at the bar, he encounters gabe (a doctor at the local hospital where leno keeps showing up with the wounded in the aftermath of bar fights). he takes gabe to dinner. they flirt. there’s sparks.

leno also encounters will, who leno thinks has some innocuous job in tourism. unbeknownst to leno, will is the son of the local business magnate who has his eye on the bar and is behind the campaign of violence that’s pressuring seamus to sell to him. if leno was aware of this he would not have started fucking will, but too late now.

leno beats up a series of thugs sent by will’s father to cause chaos at the bar. their identities are not important but they are all played by random nhl people whose behavior i loathe (trouba, mackinnon, marchand, wilson, etc.) one of them gets eaten by a crocodile. maybe they all do, because this is my story and i can have jacob trouba eaten by a crocodile as a treat.

also the tkachuks are involved but in a fun way. like, leno breaks up a fight but it’s matthew and brady fighting each other and somehow they all end up pals.

in the movie there’s one “villain” who’s the trump card of violence that the business magnate brings to town bc he’s supposed to be the only person who can take out leno. i put villain in quotes bc this character is played by conor mcgregor, and he’s a lot of fun and you are kind of rooting for him even as he and leno are fighting each other to the death. in my story this character is played by matt rempe.

there’s a climactic scene on the water with a boat chase and an exploding yacht and gabe is taken hostage by the evil interests. when leno comes to save gabe, will greets him on the deck of the yacht and that’s the big reveal that he’s the son of the evil business owner.

idk how that love triangle resolves, but the rule is that snakes don’t get happy endings, so the happy ending is leno exploding the yacht and leaving a chest of the bad guy’s money at the bar for gavin and seamus and the two of them kiss and live happily ever after. in the final scene the bar is repaired and thriving and they’re both working there wearing t-shirts that say roadhouse on the back.