[11k] a seemingly random attack seems to be the start of a big problem for the new jersey devils and you find yourself one of the main targets. fortunately, you have one of the team's best as your appointed bodyguard. unfortunately, he seems to want nothing to do with you.
new jersey mob masterlist || nhl mob masterlist
warning: this is a mob au. topics and themes such as violence, blood, murder and gun use are prevalent and constant throughout the fic. please keep that in mind if you choose to proceed with this fic and the whole series.
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“Did no one ever tell you as a kid that this much sugar is going to rot your teeth?”
“Well, brother dearest, considering you were the one who raised me, I think that’s a question you should be asking yourself.”
“You know, it’s kinda your fault her nickname is Candy,” a voice sounded from the background of the phone call. You beamed, almost imagining your brother’s face scrunching up at the callout. “Her sweet tooth is strongly encouraged by you.”
“Shut up, Jack.”
“Just pointing out the facts.”
“No one asked.”
“I assume you don’t want an eclair then?” You questioned, interrupting the bickering boys on the phone. The silence that followed made your grin widen.
“Tell Peter to give me the biggest one.”
“He always does,” you retorted, phone tucked between your ear and shoulder as the small bakery came into view. “Tell Jack I’ll get him those lemon muffins he likes.”
“You’re the best, Candy!” Jack’s voice rang through the phone.
“I know,” you answered simply, letting the bell ring above your head as you pushed the bakery door open.
You smiled when you saw Peter—a sweet boy, no older than his mid-twenties with ruffled hair and constantly flushed cheeks—standing behind the counter with a stained apron on and a determined look on his face that softened when he saw you.
“The usual?”
“You know it.”
“Coming right up, Candy!”
“Luke thinks Peter has a crush on you,” Jack’s voice came through the phone once again.
“I’ll shove a cupcake down his throat before he can try anything,” Timo grumbled.
You rolled your eyes. “You’ll do no such thing, I’d rather not get banned,” you said, grinning a little when you heard Timo scoff. “And as flattered as I am, he’s a bit too soft for me.”
“I bet he wouldn’t be so soft if you—”
“Zip it, Hughes.”
You snorted. “I’m high maintenance. Peter couldn’t handle that.”
“No one in their right mind can.”
“I can think of a few who could.”
Timo huffed. “It’s like you’re trying to make me feel murderous on a Sunday. It’s God’s day. I don’t kill on Sundays.”
“Well,” Jack started. “You did kill that dodgy fisherman a few weeks back on a Sunday—”
“Do you ever shut up?”
“Pete is a good guy, surely you’d want her to date him over anyone else—”
“It’s like you have a death wish.”
“He’s winding you up,” you snorted, making yourself comfortable since the bakery was empty and settling on the counter by the cash register. “And you fall for it every time.”
“Whatever,” Timo grumbled, and you could almost imagine the frown on his face. “Why are you over at Peter’s anyways? I thought Nico sent you to Philly.”
“Jonas went alone instead,” you shrugged, despite the fact the boy couldn’t see you. “Apparently back up wasn’t needed and the negotiations were going fine. He wants me to head towards Buffalo instead. They are avoiding his calls.”
Jack snorted. “Leave it to Nico to send Candy instead of leaving a voicemail.”
“I’m scarier,” you grinned.
Timo laughed. “Yeah, just as terrifying as a pink poodle.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’ll suffocate you with my fur coat.”
“You wouldn’t be able to catch me in those heels.”
“You underestimate me, Tims,” you grinned.
He let out a disgusted groan. “Don’t call me that.”
When it came to life in the mob, there were a few rules you had to always remember.
One: never trust someone not sworn in. No matter what they say and no matter what they do to try and prove themselves, no man or woman not under that same oath and protection will ever have your back.
Two: make alliances with your brain and not your heart. It sounded stupid but far too many times have people found themselves entering stupid deals and negotiations to get what they wanted, far too blinded by their own desires to take off their rose-tinted glasses.
Three: always—and emphasis on the always—be alert. You never know when an enemy can strike. You never know who’s lingering in the shadows, ready to catch you off-guard.
Unfortunately for you, it was the third rule you found yourself forgetting as the sound of glass smashing echoed through the small bakery.
There was a ringing in your ears, muffling the sounds of screams and yells and gunshots as the world seemed to move in slow motion around you. You were distantly aware that one of the voices was your brother on the phone, the other Peter somewhere in the back. But you could barely focus on your own thoughts as you quickly dropped to the ground, your back pressed against one of the booths as the gunshots continued to rain through the shop.
You cursed yourself for not being alert. You cursed yourself for leaving your gun in your car. You cursed yourself for not even peeking to see how many men were shooting before you ducked to safety.
You were so far in your own thoughts that it took a while to realise the gunshots had stopped.
You jumped out of your skin when you felt a hand on your shoulder, turning to find Peter staring back at you with a pale face and wide eyes. His lips were moving but you couldn’t seem to process the words he was saying.
“Calm down,” you managed to mutter out, placing your hand over his and squeezing. “You’re gonna be okay.”
But the boy shook his head. “We need to get a doctor.”
You blinked, your brain hardly keeping up with him. “What? Why?”
Peter almost looked nervous as he spoke, as white dots began to blur your vision and his face morphed into blobs of colours. His mouth was moving, a pink and reddish blob that kept changing shape, as you strained to hear what he said.
And then, your vision went black.
…
“You were hurt!”
“Timo—”
“Seriously injured! Hospitalised!”
“It doesn’t count as a hospital if it’s just in the house—”
“You were shot!” Timo gritted out through clenched teeth, his fists clenched at his side so tight that his knuckles were white.
“Shot is a bit of an exaggeration,” you murmured under your breath.
Timo turned on his heel, his eyes narrowed in a glare. “A fucking bullet went through you, how the fuck would you describe that?”
“An unfortunate occurrence,” you retorted despite Nico shooting you a look to behave, to not wind your brother up any further. “It hardly warrants the need of a babysitter.”
“A bodyguard,” Nico corrected.
“Semantics,” you waved him off.
“You were a part of a targeted attack against us,” Timo hissed, the vein on his forehead starting to pop out. “A bodyguard is exactly what you need right now.”
“Everyone in this fucking room has been a part of a targeted attack,” you snapped back at your older brother. “News flash! It comes with the fucking lives we live! You are being far too dramatic over one little bullet wound.”
“My mistake for caring,” Timo deadpanned.
“It’s not the worst I’ve experienced and you know it,” you retorted, watching the boy’s mouth snap shut. You let out a sigh, a wave of guilt washing over you as you pushed yourself off Nico’s couch and walked closer to your brother. “I’m fine. I promise.”
Timo opened his mouth.
“Timo,” you said in a softer voice, watching his shoulders drop. “Look, if anything weird happens in the next few weeks or if we have any reason to believe they will specifically attack me again, then I’ll agree to a bodyguard.”
Timo looked conflicted. “Promise?”
“Pinky promise,” you replied, grinning far too wide for someone who was barely allowed out of bed so soon. “Now, put your big boy pants on and go do something productive.”
Nico’s brows furrowed together. “You know I’m the boss here, right?”
“Send him somewhere far away for the week!”
…
“You promise you’re okay?”
“Geez, what are you, my mother?” You grumbled, your fingers dancing over the hangers on the rail as the boy followed behind you. “I’m okay. Doctor just said no strenuous activities.”
Alex raised his brows. “Are you mentally okay? Emotionally okay?”
“Forget my mother, are you my therapist?” You muttered, turning to look at the boy with narrowed eyes. “How much did Timo pay you?”
Alex scoffed. “What makes you think he paid me anything?”
“Because you never come shopping with me, let alone willingly,” you retorted with something quite triumphant in your smile.
“Yeah, well, shopping is a strenuous activity when it comes to you,” Alex grumbled under his breath, readjusting the countless bags and hangers in his hands. “I couldn’t let you hurt yourself any more than you currently are.”
You beamed, lightly patting his cheek. “That’s why you’re my favourite, Holtzy.”
“Timo also threatened me,” he added, a small smile tugging on his lips when he saw you roll your eyes and turn back around. “He can be scary, even when he’s across the country.”
“Nico should’ve sent him somewhere further,” you sighed, shaking your head before turning your attention back to the dresses on the rack. “Speaking of, I thought Nico put you in charge of checking up on Peter.”
“Jack and Luke wanted to take over,” Alex shrugged. “They wanted to make sure he was actually okay.”
You pressed your lips together in a frown. “Is that even safe? Both of them to be seen with Peter?”
“You think someone from Toronto is lurking in a bush outside the bakery, just waiting to see the three of them together?” Alex deadpanned, unphased by the look you gave him. He had been on the receiving end far too many times. “They’ll be fine. Nico wouldn’t have allowed it if it was unsafe.”
“Nico is also completely distracted by the fact Trouba supposedly wanted to meet to talk about some alliance or something,” you snorted.
“How do you know these things?” Alex questioned, his head tilted in curiosity.
“I have my ways,” you grinned knowingly. “And I have my ways of knowing if you repeat any of this to anyone. Especially Curtis. He is such a gossip.”
Alex paused before nodding. “Yeah no, that is fair. You think he will take Trouba up on the offer?”
“If the incentive is right.”
“That was frustratingly vague.”
“I know.”
“Well, distracted or not, Nico would never let anything bad happen to Jack and Luke, or Peter by extension,” Alex said, sounding so sure of himself. “He has worked hard to keep Peter’s presence in Jersey under wraps. He wouldn’t let Jack or Luke ruin that, not when they were the ones who asked for it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you hummed, waving him off. “You’re right. Blah blah blah. You done yet?”
Alex rolled his eyes. “You asked.”
“Yeah but I was hoping you’d agree with me it was unsafe so we had an excuse to visit after this,” you retorted, flashing him an innocent smile over your shoulder. “Wanna split an apple pie?”
Alex sighed but he agreed.
…
Just like you assumed, the next two weeks passed without a hitch or whisper of another attack.
After Nico practically threatened to make Timo your round-the-clock bodyguard, you got the proper rest and care needed for your wound to mostly heal. You were still a little tender—and banned from your and Dawson’s weekly yoga sessions—but you felt close to your normal self, able to join some of the others on the less physical jobs, like visiting the factories and handling negotiations.
Unfortunately for you, it was week three when disaster struck again.
“I’m surprised Nico even let you step foot into this place,” you teased as you closed the car door behind you, finding the boy already rolling his eyes at you.
“Sometimes a pretty boy has to do some dirty work too,” Jack replied, grinning boyishly as he looped his arm with yours before walking towards the warehouse.
“Your ego truly astounds me,” you commented.
“Says you,” he retorted, laughing as he tried to ignore your heel jabbing into his toes.
It was a routine check-up, something that wasn’t meant to take longer than thirty minutes—forty tops, if you left Jack to do it alone and get distracted. But the shipment had just left and you needed to make sure nothing was left behind and assure no tracks were left behind. Nico preferred people close to him doing the checks.
You had been mildly surprised that he sent you and Jack together, though, you had a feeling that the whole peace treaty with the Rangers was taking over Nico’s plate.
“Everything looks good,” Jack said as he jogged back towards you, pushing some hair out of his face. “What about your side?”
“All good,” you confirmed. “Let’s head back before Timo gets there. The dick made a bet with me that he would be back from Washington before us.”
Jack paused. “Isn’t he meant to be staying the night?”
You huffed. “Please, the boy has been like a fucking helicopter parent. Unless it’s on the west coast, he doesn’t like being away for a day because apparently something will happen to me if he’s not here.”
Jack shook his head fondly but his hand rested over yours, giving it a small squeeze. “He just cares, Candy.”
You felt a flash of guilt in the pit of your stomach. “Jack—”
“Take it from a guy who lost a sibling, it isn’t fun,” he said, trying to smile and laugh through it but it fell flat.
You frowned, not giving the boy a chance to run off before you wound your arms around him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” you murmured softly.
“I know,” Jack whispered, his arms wrapping around you in return. “He just wants to know you’re safe. God knows I’d freak out the same if it was Luke in your position.”
“A pair of overbearing brothers you are,” you teased, pulling back with a softer smile on your face. “You’re a good brother. And a good friend.”
Jack raised his brows. “Wow, I didn’t even have to pay you for that compliment.”
You rolled your eyes. “I meant you’re a good friend to Peter. How’s he holding up?”
“A bit shaken,” Jack confessed as you both walked back towards the car, his lips turned downwards. “The damage to the shop wasn’t too bad, mostly just replacing the windows and cleaning up. But he’s freaked out that people are on his tail.”
You hummed, nodding. “And you? How do you feel?”
Jack couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “I’m not the one that got shot.”
“Yeah but,” you paused, waving your hand around. “If Peter is freaked out—”
“Anything freaks him out,” Jack mused. “It was just a normal, run of the mill, everyday kind of event that happens when you’re in the mob. There’s nothing or no reason to believe it was anything but a fluke—”
BOOM!
You felt Jack’s body covering yours before you even realised you were on the ground. You managed to peek over Jack’s shoulder, your eyes widening at the sight of the warehouse—the same one you were inside mere minutes ago—bursting into flames that were growing and spreading and burning wildly.
“Okay, I take it back,” Jack muttered, his eyes glued on the burning building. “Not a fluke. Definitely targeted. We are fucked.”
You swallowed. “Dibs on not calling Nico.”
…
“I knew it.”
You rolled your eyes at the cock-sureness in your brother’s voice.
“This is serious,” Nico spoke up, shooting Timo a look before he went on a rant—again. “That’s two attacks in three weeks. And we have no fucking idea who’s behind them. Or if they are even linked at all.”
“It’s hard when we have a plethora of enemies,” Jesper deadpanned, raising his hands in mock surrender when Nico shot him a look. “Just saying.”
“Stop reminding me,” Nico grumbled.
“Guess we can cross the Rangers off our list though, right, Boss?” You teased, wiggling your brows despite the glare you were receiving.
“Candy,” Nico sighed. “Your brother is right. I think it’s best to have a bodyguard around, just for the next few weeks until we work things out.”
“Yeah because a bodyguard is sure gonna help when the building blows up, this time with us in it,” you deadpanned.
“I’d be more observant than Jack,” Timo commented.
“Hey!” Jack frowned.
“Absolutely fucking not,” you quickly stood up, shaking your head. “You’re not going to be my bodyguard. I’m not having you hovering over me twenty-four-seven. You’re bad enough as it is.”
Timo clenched his jaw. “Yes, I am—”
“No. She’s right. You’re not,” Nico spoke up, quickly interrupting you both. “But you are getting a bodyguard. Just to take precautions until we confirm whether you’re a target or if you just happened to be at the targeted places by chance. Maybe having another pair of eyes around you, someone who’s vigilant, will be insightful.”
“I’m not five, Nico, I can take care of myself,” you insisted, your arms crossed over your chest. “A babysitter isn’t going to do anything other than be a nuisance.”
“The bodyguard,” Nico corrected with a pointed look. “Is necessary and will not be negotiated.”
“This is ridiculous,” you said to him.
“And he’s going to be with you around the clock, always by your side,” Nico said.
Your nose scrunched up. “No.”
“Every shopping trip, every little run into town,” Nico continued.
You could feel your skin prickling. “Nico—
“And I’m moving him into your room to sleep, armed and ready just in case,” Nico insisted.
This time it was Timo who stepped in. “Woah, wait a second—”
“And I know the perfect guy,” Nico grinned. “Marino will be your bodyguard.”
It was like a switch flipped in your head, your irritance and fight disappearing as you grinned at him. “Okay.”
“I—” Timo narrowed his eyes at you. “Why are you suddenly okay with this?”
“Because I know how to listen to my boss, Timmy, you should try it some time,” you grinned at your brother, patting his shoulder before you sauntered out of the office.
“Stop calling me that,” Timo groaned as he followed you out.
Jesper waited a few moments before your voices were clearly down the hall. “You did that just to stir some drama, didn’t you?”
“Yup,” Nico answered quite happily.
“Thank god, everyone was sick of the pining puppy dog eyes,” Jack grumbled from the spot on Nico’s desk he was sitting on.
…
You had known John Marino for as long as you had been with the Devils.
He was quieter than the rest, happy to linger in the corners of the room and observe everyone. It makes sense why Nico had chosen him as the role of your bodyguard, it was John’s nature to notice things most people missed. But, ultimately, it confused the fuck out of you.
Because for as long as you had known John, you were also certain the boy didn’t like you.
You could count on one hand the amount of conversations you shared with the boy, and even those conversations lasted thirty seconds at most. And for a majority of those thirty seconds, it was you talking and him saying three words in response, if even that.
You had eventually accepted the fact that some personalities just clashed, that maybe you were too loud or too energetic or too extroverted for John’s liking. You tried to tell yourself you were okay with it because, at the end of the day, he was still polite and curt with you.
But you would be lying if you said a small part of you wasn’t offended that you were nothing more than a glorified acquaintance with John Marino.
So really, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone that you were going to use the next few weeks with him to get him to like you. Or figure out what the hell his deal was.
“You think John hates you?” Dawson repeated, like that was the detail he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around in your whole plan.
“Hate is a strong word,” you said in response. “I’m simply going to get him to come out of his shell a little. With me specifically.”
“Not the kinda coming he wants to do with you,” Dawson muttered under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing!” Dawson quickly cleared his throat. He turned his gaze back towards the corridor the two of you were currently walking down. “How do you plan to get him out of his shell?”
“I don’t need a strategy to make friends,” you mused, grinning a little when the boy rolled his eyes in response. “My plan is to not have a plan. I am sure with the time spent together, he will eventually open up.”
“That still sounds like a strategy,” Dawson commented but you didn’t get the chance to reply, the door to Nico’s office swinging open and a beaming Nico taking the focus of your attention instead.
“Candy, brilliant, you’re here!”
You blinked. “Yes, you asked me to be. You literally sent me a text ten minutes ago—”
“Anyways!” Nico spun around, still grinning a concerning amount as he wandered back into the office, a few of the other boys already inside. “I don’t like the idea of waiting around for another attack to get answers.”
Jesper raised his brows. “Meaning?”
“Meaning I want both attacks investigated separately so we can see if there are any dots joining,” Nico stated simply, leaning against his desk. “Bratter, you and Jack are on warehouse duty. I want to know everyone who stepped foot in that place in the last month.”
“Bit hard to do when the cameras blew up with the building but sure,” Jack grumbled.
“Candy,” Nico’s eyes shifted to you. “You and John will be on the bakery.”
“Is it really a good idea to send her back to the bakery?” Timo interrupted, stepping forward.
“I’m not ignoring it for the rest of my life because of one attack,” you told him. “Me and Johnny can handle it.”
“Johnny?” Timo repeated incredulously before spinning around to find John, who was standing near the back of the room with a blank expression on his face. “Since when were you Johnny?”
John only shrugged in response.
Timo’s eyes narrowed.
“As I was saying,” Nico spoke up again. “This is how we are doing it.”
“What about the rest of us?” Timo asked.
“You have other jobs to do,” Nico said simply. “I am not putting our lives on hold over a few attacks. We continue everything else like normal. I don’t want it to get out that we are concerned over these attacks, they will make us look weak.”
Jonas’ lips twitched upwards. “And god forbid you look weak before you have the chance to woo the Rangers—”
Nico had elbowed him in the gut before he managed to finish that sentence.
…
“You’re staring.”
You blinked, wondering for a few moments if you had imagined the boy speaking. The two of you had been sitting in your room for the better part of the last two hours, combing through the security footage from the bakery that Peter had sent you.
And in that time, John had said two words, a simple ‘on it’ when you sent him half of the security footage to watch over.
Somewhere in that time, you found yourself sitting against your headboard, watching the boy sitting at your desk with narrowed eyes like you would somehow be able to figure him out through observation.
Clearly, that didn’t work very well.
“Staring is considered a compliment,” you replied, watching the way his lips twitched upwards. You waited for him to turn around and go back to the footage, but you were surprised when he leaned back in his seat to look at you.
“And are you?” He questioned, watching your head tilt in confusion. “Complimenting me?”
“No,” you shook your head. “I’m wondering why you’re here.”
John raised his brows. “You are aware you were shot a few weeks ago, right?”
“Yes but you didn’t have to say yes to Nico,” you pointed out.
John stared back at you for a few moments before he spoke. “I wanted to, Candy.”
He didn’t give you the chance to reply before he turned back around, his focus returning to the hours of security footage he had been watching minutes before.
…
It took a little over three days to watch all the footage from the bakery’s security cameras just for it to come up with no leads. The warehouse was no better, with no real evidence or clues on who set up the attack.
Nico was trying to keep a brave face and pretend like it wasn’t that big of a deal but you could see that it was unsettling him. Someone clearly had a target on the Devils’ back and the reason was unclear, which made it ten times harder to anticipate what the next move would be. And with the deal with the Rangers coming up, the last thing any of you needed was a weakness to be exposed.
“We will figure it out,” Nico kept saying whenever it was questioned by some of the other members, the ones not as privy to the inner circle talks in his study late at night. “We will be fine.”
You were pretty sure he was trying to convince himself of that fact too.
“We need to do something,” you said around a week after the investigation into the attacks began, lying on your bed with your head hanging over the edge. “How the fuck have we not found anything?”
“Because whoever is behind it is good at covering their tracks?” Jack suggested from his spot beside you on the bed.
“Or because we are trying to catch them with little to no evidence,” John added, standing by the door of your room with his hands obediently behind his back. “You know, since everything was either burned or destroyed or has a million bullet holes in it.”
“Will you sit down? You’re stressing me out,” you muttered to him.
“No,” John stated simply.
Jack snorted. “He is jealous I took the bed.”
“I am not.”
Jack shot you a knowing look. “He totally is.”
“There has to be something else,” you sighed, your eyes fixed on the massive pile of clothes you had thrown over the back of your desk chair. John had wrinkled his nose at all the sequins and glitter, a look which soured when you suggested he add some colour to his outfits. The constant all black was starting to make you feel angsty.
“We’ve tried everything, bar kidnapping random people off the street and interrogating them,” John retorted.
“My plan was way more nuanced than that,” Jack insisted. “Stop making it sound dumb.”
“He can’t make it sound dumb if it is dumb,” you pointed out.
John’s lips twitched upwards.
Jack scoffed. “Since when did you two agree with each other?”
“Since you became an easy target,” you retorted, hissing when the boy reached over to pinch your arm. “Ouch, asshole.”
“It was deserved,” Jack insisted.
You turned your head to look at John. “I thought my bodyguard was meant to protect me.”
“Because Jack and his noodle arms are such a big threat,” John deadpanned.
Jack quickly sat up in bed. “Woah, now wait a second—”
“It would take more than a second to fix your noodle arms.”
Jack narrowed his eyes at the boy. “I do not know why Luke likes you so much.”
John shrugged in response.
“Is Peter’s shop still under renovation?” You questioned, interrupting whatever weird staring contest the two of them were doing. The mention of his friend was enough for Jack to tear his eyes away from John to focus on you instead.
“What? Yeah, they are,” he nodded with his lips turned down. “Why?”
“Good,” was the only response you gave, quickly swinging your legs over the side of the bed as you sat up. Both boys looked at you with confused expressions, watching as you hooked the straps of your heels on one finger and reached for one of your coats with the other hand.
John straightened. “What are you—”
“Hurry up, Johnny, we are leaving in five,” you stated, grinning when you noticed him let out a heavy sigh like he accepted the fact he wasn’t getting answers from you.
“What about me?” Jack called out.
“Don’t know and don’t care!”
…
Peter’s Bakery was a cute and quaint shop that didn’t stand out amongst the others on the street. It fit right in with the friendly, homely neighbourhood and was a huge hit with the locals. It was a simple place, hidden right in plain sight.
Despite the connection to the Devils, there was no reason for it to be targeted in an attack.
“Eighty percent of Peter’s customers are locals,” you told John as you walked towards the bakery, your heels clicking against the cement in a melodic pattern. It was comforting, something to hold onto as memories of the last time you were here flooded to the front of your mind.
“So?” John questioned, his eyes hidden behind the sunglasses he had slipped on before the two of you left the house. You could bet your bottom dollar that he was already analysing everything, probably had been since the second the two of you got out of the car.
“Ten percent are people from surrounding areas and the remaining ten are tourists from states excluding the ones in the immediate surrounding area,” you continued. “And the chances of the attacker being a local is slim to none so—”
“You think the person behind all this visited the bakery before the attack?” John finished for you.
“Bingo, Johnny,” you grinned at the boy, watching as he simply pressed his lips together.
“And you think he is just going to remember every customer he interacted with?” John asked, the judgement clear from his voice. “We already combed through the CCTV footage, we know there was nothing weird—”
“That was on camera,” you pointed out. “They could have given a different vibe in person.”
“A different vibe?” John repeated in a dubious tone.
“I don’t see you jumping with any better ideas,” you retorted as the boy just sighed in response. “Cheer up, Johnny, the ever present frown is going to give you wrinkles.”
John didn’t get the chance to even try and respond before you were pushing the door to the bakery open. Despite the damage to the shop, the bell above the door remained intact and dinged as the two of you walked in. It was a mess, with cans of paints and planks of wood and tools sprawled over the place, but the vague smell of cookies still somehow lingered in the air.
“Sorry, we are closed for—oh,” Peter poked his head out from the back of the store, his lips twisting into a smile when he saw you. “Candy, I didn’t know you were stopping by.”
“We just had a few questions for Jersey’s favourite baker,” you smiled innocently.
“We?” Peter repeated, his eyes glancing past your shoulder like he was noticing John for the first time. A look passed over his face before he cleared his throat. “Marino.”
“Perry.”
“It’s Peter.”
“Whoops.”
“Play nice,” you pouted, lightly elbowing John’s side before turning your smiling face back to Peter. “Excuse him, he gets pissy if he misses his afternoon nap.”
John’s jaw clenched as Peter laughed.
“Come on in,” Peter smiled back. “I’m all yours for the next hour before the builders come back from their lunch break.”
“How convenient,” John murmured under his breath, lifting his hands in mock surrender as you shot him a look before the both of you followed him into the back of the store.
…
“So, that was useless.”
“No surprise there.”
Your eyes narrowed into a glare, your mood only souring further when you found the boy wasn’t even looking back at you. His gaze seemed to be glued ahead, his jaw still clenched like it had been the whole time you had been in the bakery.
“What is your problem?” You asked, wrapping your coat further around your body as the wind began to pick up. “You have been in an awful mood since we arrived.”
“I’ve been completely normal,” John answered. Those stupid sunglasses on his face were starting to piss you off.
“You have not,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “You were fine joking around with Jack back in the house but the second we left, you were in a downright horrible mood—hey!”
“Keep your voice down,” John grumbled, his hand now locked around your arm as he tugged you closer to his side.
You let out a snort of laughter. “You’re funny if you think—”
“Someone has been following us since we left the bakery,” John said, his voice low and barely a muscle on his face moving as he spoke. “Lower your voice and follow me.”
And for once, you listened.
There was a growing temptation to look back. To just take a peek over your shoulder and see the face of the person who was following you, to try and get an idea of who it was. There was no coincidence that the two of you were being followed the second you left the bakery, the same goddamn place you were first attacked.
You wondered if it was the same person. You wonder if they were the one that shot the gun that hit you. You wondered if—
“You’re spiralling,” John’s voice cut through your thoughts.
“Am not,” you retorted, but it sounded weak to your own ears.
“Lie better,” John insisted, his hand tightening around your arm as he spoke.
It was like you could hear the footsteps behind you now, like they were loud and clear the second John had pointed them out to you. When you sped up, so did they. When you slowed down, so did they. They were matching your moves and following the two of you and the car was too far away and you couldn’t call for backup without alerting the person and—
“Shhhh, breathe for me.”
You blinked before you even realised what was happening. Torn out of your own spiralling thoughts, you found yourself pressed against a wall, the cold bricks jabbing into your back but the comfort was the least of your problems. John was pressed up against you, not an inch of you exposed to the rest of the world as he kept you pinned between him and the wall.
You lifted your head to watch his side profile, watch the way he kept his eyes on the entryway to the alley he had pulled you down before you even realised what was happening. You watched the way his cheeks flushed pink, probably from the nipping weather (though it was hard to care about that when he was like a furnace against you). You watched the way he looked so focused, so in his element.
It was hard to doubt Nico’s choice when you were seeing John do just what he did best.
“I think it’s all clear,” he eventually said, breaking the silence that had been lingering since he dragged you into the alley.
You swallowed harshly. “You sure?”
“Have I given you any reason to doubt I wouldn’t take your safety seriously?” John asked, turning his head so he was finally looking at you. You watched him closely, watched the way his eyes darted over your face and lingered on your lips for a moment too long before returning to your eyes.
“No,” you replied honestly.
“Then there’s your answer,” he murmured, lingering for a few moments before he took a step back. “Let’s go back to the house.”
You tried not to think about how cold you were the second he stepped away.
…
Things were starting to heat up with the Rangers deal.
Which, considering the faces of everyone in Nico’s study at that current moment, was incredibly fucking shocking.
“You’re actually going through with it?” Jesper was the one to speak first, staring at Nico with wide eyes. “I thought we were just entertaining them to see what they want.”
“Yes, and I listened and I agreed to it,” Nico said as he leaned back in his chair. “So we are going forth with the deal.”
“We have been fighting them for years,” Jack piped in, his brows furrowed together like he was trying to piece together a deal he didn’t even know the terms of fully. You weren’t even sure Nico knew the details of the deal yet.
“Exactly,” Nico nodded. “And look how much we have lost, both of us. It’s time to turn a new leaf.”
Jack flinched.
You pressed a hand between the blades of his shoulders, leaving it there until you could feel the boy slowly start to relax under your touch.
“This isn’t sustainable for either of us,” Nico continued, though it was softer this time. “We need to start thinking about what’s best for the Devils.”
“And buddying up with the Rangers is the solution?” Jonas asked, no judgement in his voice (yet). Just curiosity.
“Not just with them,” Nico admitted. “I want to start solidifying our relationships.”
And it was that exact reason that Nico decided to send you to Pittsburgh.
The members of the Steel City mob were not ones the Devils knew well, nor did they have much of a history with. It was good, in the sense that there was no awkward bad blood to get over (read: like the current Rangers deal Nico was trying to pull). But it also meant there was no reason for either group to want a relationship.
Not unless you were Nico Hischier and Sidney Crosby, suddenly interested in creating an alliance that would somehow benefit both groups involved.
It was weird travelling with John. Usually when Nico sent you on missions like this, you were alone. On the off chance you needed back up, it would be Timo or Dawson or Jack by your side. It should have felt unsettling to have John, but it was comforting.
It was comforting to know he had your back, that you didn’t have to spend the whole trip looking over your shoulder.
And it was better than when one of the others were with you. John let you take control, let you do the talking, let you sit across from Sidney and say what you wanted without trying to cut in or take over the conversation.
It was comforting but also such a mindfuck to know this was all from the same boy who practically avoided you until a few weeks ago.
Where was this John before?
All in all, the meeting went well. There was still a lot to discuss, to negotiate, to consider. But it was the start to an alliance between the Devils and the Penguins, a welcome and positive start. And that was more than enough for an overnight trip. Sidney had even been kind enough to offer a place in one of the countless establishments owned by the Penguins.
“Two rooms?” He said like it was a nicety, rather than a fact he already knew.
“One,” John corrected, his face remaining blank as he spoke. But there was a hint of ‘no further argument’ in his voice.
Sidney’s lips twitched upwards. “One it is, then.”
…
The hotel room was nice. More than nice, if you were being completely honest.
It felt far too fancy for a single night’s stay but you assumed the Penguins were wanting to keep the good relationship going, to show they were serious, to show how well they could treat those they shared a good alliance with. It felt more like a studio apartment than a hotel room.
And despite it all, there was only one bed.
It had taken around thirty minutes of arguing before John accepted that the bed was large enough for you both to share for the night. He had been insistent he could use the couch by the window, that it was big and comfy enough for him.
It made you want to scream.
You didn’t get it. You really didn’t fucking get it.
If someone had asked you a few months ago, you would have bet your life on the fact that John didn’t like you. He was clearly quite quiet and reserved, preferring to keep to himself. You would have assumed the reasons he stayed away from you were just that—that you were too loud, too out there, too flashy.
And then he became your bodyguard. And there were these moments where you thought you were seeing a different John, a John that you could get along with. A John that would maybe even be able to handle how loud and out there and flashy you were.
Until moments like this, moments where it felt like he would rather be anywhere but beside you. Where it felt like he was here out of obligation because of Nico’s orders.
“Why do you hate me?”
It had been over an hour since the two of you turned the lights off and settled down for the night. If you were being honest, you assumed he had fallen asleep a while ago but it still hadn’t stopped you from blurting the question out into the dark room, to get it off your chest before you felt like you would explode.
You hadn’t expected to feel him tense up beside you. You hadn’t expected him to still be awake.
“What?”
You remained silent.
You could hear shuffling from his side of the bed. You wondered if he was turning to face you. You couldn’t bring yourself to look.
“Candy,” John said, his voice heavy with an emotion you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “What makes you think I hate you?”
“Because what else am I to think?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you spoke. “You ignored me before this, before Nico told you to watch over me. You barely said three words to me in the years I have been here and—”
You cut yourself off. The silence remained for a few minutes and you wondered if he had genuinely fallen asleep in that time. You still couldn’t bring yourself to look.
“I don’t hate you,” John whispered. “I never did.”
You let out a shaky breath.
“You were just so…you,” John confessed. “It was intimidating. I guess I didn’t think I was interesting enough.”
You frowned. “What?”
“I never said my reason made sense,” John retorted and you couldn’t help but snort a little. “I promise that I never hated you, Candy. Nobody could hate you.”
You swallowed. “And I’m meant to believe that?”
“I would never lie to you,” John said confidently. “Never have and never will.”
“Okay,” you whispered as you reached your hand back. It took a few seconds of patting the space between you both before you found his hand and gave it a small squeeze. “I don’t hate you either.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“Goodnight, Johnny.”
“Goodnight, Candy.”
…
“We think we have found a link between the attacks.”
“We?”
“Apologies,” Nico corrected, letting out a sigh as Jesper glared at the side of his head. “Jesper thinks he has found a link.”
“It’s a guess,” Jesper admitted after a few moments as the lot of you surrounded the map that was currently sprawled out over the length of Nico’s desk. “But it’s better than nothing.”
“What makes you think they will even attack again?” Jonas questioned as he glanced between the circled locations with a frown.
“We don’t,” Nico answered.
“Well, we can assume they will try again considering none of the other attacks ended with what they wanted,” Jack spoke up, catching your eye as he sheepishly shrugged. “Sorry, Candy.”
Timo’s frown deepened.
“Each of these locations would fit their agenda,” Jesper said as he rapped his knuckles against the map before frowning. “If we have guessed their agenda correctly.”
“You will have,” you assured, squeezing the blond’s shoulder with a smile. “Good job, Bratter.”
“We are going to have these locations on a constant patrol for the next week,” Nico said, frowning down at the map like he was already organising the patrol schedule in his head (even though Jonas would be the one to have a printed and laminated version on the notice board in the foyer by that very evening). “We are due another attack soon, if these people are sticking to a schedule.”
“Dibs the club by the Italian place,” you spoke up, flashing Jack a grin where he let out an exaggerated groan. “Their garlic bread would be the perfect stakeout snack.”
Nico opened his mouth but Timo was already talking before he had the chance to say anything.
“What makes you think you’re a part of this?” Timo asked with a frown.
You raised your brows. “Maybe the fact I am in this room right now.”
“No,” Timo shook his head. “Absolutely not. You’re not getting involved in this.”
“Timo—”
“You are one of their targets,” Timo gritted out between clenched teeth. “It would be fucking stupid to put you on patrol. We may as well hand you over on a silver platter.”
“You’re being dramatic,” you said. “I’ll be with John—”
“No, I am being realistic,” Timo corrected. “You’re staying behind. End of discussion.”
You could feel your temper starting to rise, feeling that itch under your skin that was biting to fight back. “What? You suddenly don’t trust John?”
“No, I don’t trust you,” Timo retorted, the muscles in his jaw clenching. “You’re a liability, Candy.”
You froze for a moment before scoffing. “Wow. Wow.”
To his credit, Timo did look apologetic the second the words settled in the room. “Candy, I didn’t—”
“What? You didn’t mean it?” You let out a humourless laugh, shaking your head. “No, you meant it, Timo. You meant it just like you meant it in San Jose and look where that got us.”
A look of hurt flashed across your brother’s face. “That’s not fair—”
“Whatever,” you gritted out, stepping back when he tried to reach you and turning on your heel before anyone else had the chance to say anything. You turned and walked towards the door and kept walking, blood roaring in your ears and tears welling in your eyes with every step.
…
“Got room for one more?”
John didn’t wait for your response as he settled down on the spot beside you. He glanced around, letting out a hum of amusement as he took in the full brunt of your wardrobe. It had been its own room at one point, before you had taken it over and connected it to your bedroom. Now, it was full of rails and shelves bursting with clothes and shoes in so many colours that John was surprised his head didn’t hurt the second he walked in.
He leaned back against one of the set of drawers, laughing a little when he felt a couple of feathers brushing against the back of his neck. “Do you actually wear feather boas?”
Your lips twitched upwards. “I got them when Luke and Curtis bet fifty bucks that I didn’t have them ‘in my collection’.”
John smiled a little. “So you have them to help Luke in a bet?”
You shot him a look. “Don’t be silly, I was helping Curtis win the bet.”
John did laugh this time, a proper laugh that caught you by surprise. Not that he seemed put off by the way you were blatantly staring at him. Instead, he nudged his shoulder against yours and just smiled.
Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned your head against his shoulder.
“Do you want to talk about it?” John asked in a soft voice.
“I just…” You trailed off, trying to find the words to describe everything racing on inside your head. “I was just so pissed off and he wasn’t listening to me and I…I knew it would hurt. I wanted it to hurt.” You paused. “Does that make me a bad person?”
“Maybe,” John whispered. “But I don’t think he was a great person at that moment either.”
“I know the San Jose stuff upsets him,” you whispered, pressing your cheek further into the fabric of his shirt until his cologne and the vague scent of fabric softener was the only thing you could focus on. “He regrets it every day. He regrets that he left me behind that day, that he thought I was too much of a liability to go away with him.”
John pressed his cheek against the top of your head. “What happened in San Jose wasn’t your fault or his. It was them. It was the Sharks and their twisted morals over there and—”
“I’m his sister and I almost died because of a decision he made,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you spoke. “He will always blame himself, even if no one else thinks it. Even if he is the reason I’m alive now and we got out of there.”
John didn’t say anything.
“Just like I will always blame myself for trusting them blindly,” you muttered, swallowing the words that felt like they were stuck in the back of your throat. “I forgot the basic rules of this life. I forgot then and I forgot when I was at Peter’s when the attack happened and—”
“Candy,” John murmured, his arm winding around your body and pulling you further into his side. “It wasn’t your fault.”
You pressed your face further into him, your tears beginning to soak the shirt he was wearing but he didn’t care.
“You’re a force to be reckoned with, Candy,” John continued, his lips pressed against the top of your head as he left a lingering kiss. “None of it was your fault.”
You stayed silent.
“And you’re not a bad person. You’re allowed to get angry and upset. You’re allowed to lash out.” John pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Your brother loves you and nothing will ever change that.”
John held you in his arms as the two of you sat on the floor of your wardrobe. He held you as you cried and cried until you couldn’t anymore. He held you until keeping your eyes open was too much. And then he carried you to bed, taking his spot in your room and letting the silence settle over the room until the next morning.
The apology from Timo didn’t really come in the form of words, maybe because you and your brother both knew that more than words were needed. It was at the next Devils Sunday dinner. He didn’t say anything as he placed a box on your plate (a box you recognised with the logo of Peter’s Bakery) and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
“We will never let them win,” he murmured, the same words he whispered that fateful night in San Jose before the two of you escaped.
“Never,” you whispered back.
Timo just smiled, soft and genuine and just as forgiving as it was apologetic, before he settled down in his spot at the table.
He didn’t even say anything about John’s arm wrapped around the back of your chair for the duration of the whole dinner.
…
The days passed and still no attack came.
The deal with the Rangers was becoming more serious. Not that you doubted Nico’s word at all. It was just…rivalry against the Rangers was all you had known. You heard whispers about them when you were on the west coast. You saw the extent of their violence when you and Timo fled to New Jersey.
It was hard to imagine a life where that violence wasn’t instigated, wasn’t retaliated against, wasn’t sought out.
“It will work.”
You raised your brows, watching the way Nico was nodding to himself as he glanced over the papers in front of him. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
Jack snorted. “More like Jesper. He doesn’t think it’s a good idea.”
“He doesn’t trust them,” Nico corrected.
“And, to be fair, they have given us no reason to trust them,” you added.
“Just as much as they should trust us,” John deadpanned, once again refusing to sit down as he stood left to your chair.
“They need it as much as we do,” Nico pointed out.
“What stock could they possibly need from us?” You questioned, watching the way the boy paused before clearing his throat. Your eyes narrowed at your boss, like it would be enough to see the thoughts whirling around in his head. “Nico, what did you agree to?”
Nico let out a sigh, leaning back in his chair. “A marriage.”
Jack blinked.
“A marriage?” You repeated, hissing. “Are you crazy? You want to join us to them forever like that?”
“It’s an alliance, Candy,” Nico stated simply. “The idea is that it would be long lasting.”
“But a marriage, Nico,” you shook your head. “They wouldn’t just accept a random marriage, not unless Trouba thought he could find a way to get into the top circle. Who did you offer up?”
“Why? You offering yourself?” Jack asked, his lips twitching upwards.
But the joke fell flat when John stepped forward, stepped closer to you. “No. She’s not.”
Your eyes widened a little at the biting tone in his voice. “Hey—”
“You are not marrying any of them,” John gritted out through clenched teeth. “I refuse.”
“You refuse?” You repeated, your head tilting as you turned to look at the boy in disbelief. “Pretty sure it’s my decision, Johnny.”
“Yeah, Johnny,” Jack said, his eyes glittering in amusement. Not that you could see it, with your focus now turned to the other boy. But John could see it. He could see it and could see the way Jack was actively holding back his laughter. “If Candy wants to marry one of Trouba’s men, then who are we to stop her?”
John’s jaw clenched, an emotion you couldn’t quite read shining in his eyes. “No.”
Nico sighed deeply.
Jack snorted. “You’re not even being subtle about it, bud.”
You whirled around. “Subtle about what?”
Jack simply lifted his hands in mock surrender.
You turned back to look at John, a mix of emotions flooding through you when he failed to meet your eyes. “I thought you never lied to me.”
“I’m not lying,” John said, his eyes locked on Jack, who was beaming in response.
“No, he’s just omitting to tell the truth,” Jack retorted.
“Jack,” Nico said in a warning voice.
“Oh, come on,” Jack whined, turning to pout at the older boy. “We all know John is just—”
“Enough,” Nico interrupted, shaking his head. “Go to Peter’s.”
Jack frowned. “What?”
“I’m telling you right now to go stake out at Peter’s tonight,” Nico said—or, more accurately, commanded. “I want you to stick to the post for the rest of the night.”
Jack opened his mouth to argue but noted the glare Nico was sending him and—smartly—decided to keep his mouth shut. He glanced between you and John, muttering something under his breath before he jumped off his spot on the desk and made his way towards the door.
“And just to be clear,” Nico spoke up before Jack could leave the room. “Candy is not the one marrying a Ranger. None of you are.”
John’s brows furrowed together. “So who is?”
“Me.”
…
You hadn’t said a word to John since the two of you left Nico’s study.
It was one thing to make a deal with the Rangers. It was another for that deal to include an arranged marriage, something that seemed so archaic and old-fashioned for Nico’s taste. But for Nico himself to be involved? To tie himself to the Rangers in such a way?
It was fucking mind-blowing.
You could only imagine the kind of girl the Rangers would offer to play the part of Nico Hischier’s wife.
But despite the revelation, your mind was reeling for a very different reason. And said reason happened to be just behind you, dressed in all black (no surprise there) and looking like a damn kicked puppy at the silent treatment you had been giving him.
John watched you with careful eyes as you swung the door to your bedroom open, barely acknowledging the small ‘ooft’ he let out when the rebound of the door almost hit him in the face.
“Candy–” John started the second the door clicked shut behind him.
But you barely gave him the chance to continue, already spinning around on your heel to glare at him. “Do not even try it.”
“I meant what I said when I told you I would never lie to you,” John said, staying rooted in his spot even though his stomach twisted at the hurt written across your face. “I have never lied to you. I swear on my life.”
You watched him for a few moments, a muscle in your jaw ticking before you asked him something that completely caught him off guard.
“Why did you take this job?”
John blinked. “What?”
“Why did you take this job?” You repeated, keeping your eyes locked on him as you took a step closer.
“You know why,” John said, swallowing harshly. “You were a target and Nico appointed me as your bodyguard—”
“That’s not the only reason,” you said bluntly. “There is more to it. You know it. Jack knows it. Hell, everyone but me seems to know it. So what is the reason?”
John let out a breath. “I can’t tell you.”
You took another step towards him, eyes narrowed in determination. “Can’t or won’t?”
John could feel his chest tightening. “Candy, please.”
“You may not have been lying before but you weren’t telling me the truth,” you questioned, pausing when you were right in front of him. “Why did you take this job?”
John shook his head.
“John,” you rasped. “Tell me.”
He kept shaking his head. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it will change nothing!” John frowned a little, clearing his throat as he lowered his voice. “Because I can’t do anything about it.”
You blinked, confused. “What?”
“Can we please just drop this?” John whispered, his voice cracking a little.
“No,” you shook your head, determined. “What won’t it change?”
John pressed his lips together.
You sighed. “Johnny—”
“Us,” John finally muttered out. “It won’t change us. It won’t change how I feel about you. It won’t change the fact that you’re you and you’re Timo’s sister and I shouldn’t want you but I really fucking do and—”
“Kiss me.”
John blinked, stuttering over his choked breath. “Candy, you don’t mean that.”
“Did I stutter?” You retorted.
“We can’t,” John tried again, but you could see his resolve crumbling. You could see the way his eyes dropped to your lips, the way they lingered on your mouth.
“Says who?” You asked, watching as the boy failed to find a response. “Kiss me, Johnny.”
John waited one, two, three seconds before he surged forward, before his hands cupped your face and his lips were pressed against yours with a passion you had never experienced before. You barely had a chance to grip his shirt before he was tugging you closer, before he was tilting his head and deepening the kiss and moaning against your lips like it was the hottest thing he had ever done in his life.
In some ways, it was.
Years of fantasies and feelings and thoughts and dreams lead to this moment. Years of John keeping his feelings hidden, keeping them locked away, thinking he never stood a chance. Years of him hopelessly pining and wanting and wishing. Years of just loving you just how you were.
His fingers entangled themselves in your hair, tilting your head to match his pace as his other hand slid down to wind around your waist and pull you closer. He heard the little gasp you let out, felt the way you fisted the fabric of his shirt, listened to the little breathless ‘Johnny’ you sighed against his lips.
He felt feral.
He hadn’t even noticed you slowly leading him deeper into the room, step by step, until your knees hit the back of the bed and you were dragging him down with you. Only then did the last few minutes seem to hit him like a freight train. He pushed up onto his elbows, chest heaving with soft pants and face flushed as he stared down at you.
“Candy—” He started but you quickly placed your finger over his lips..
“I want this. I want you. I don’t want to hear whatever noble bullshit you have been telling yourself to hold yourself back. I just want you, Johnny,” you said, breathing heavily as your eyes lingered on his kiss-swollen lips before returning to meet his gaze. “If you don’t want this, then I get that. But only if you don’t want this. Nothing to do with my brother or some bullshit sense of morality or the rest of this damn house.”
John swallowed, lifting one hand to slowly push some hair away from your face and tuck it behind your ear. You waited with a bated breath, watching as his eyes took in every single detail of you before he leaned down to kiss you—sweeter, softer than before.
“I want you more than you could ever know,” he whispered against your lips, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he spoke.
“Kiss me again,” you murmured, pushing your cheek further into his touch.
“Whatever you want, Candy,” John murmured before leaning down to kiss you again.
…
The attack happened three days later.
It was anticipated, just not on a warehouse you were expecting. The knowledge that the pattern you thought you had noticed was actually false laid heavy on all your shoulders, as the realisation of something much bigger than any of you were anticipating settled. This went beyond a few targeted attacks, this went beyond you.
This was the start of a war, and even if none of you wanted to say it out loud, you were all thinking it.
“What now?” Jack asked as you all stood around Nico’s study, staring helplessly at the map laid out on Nico’s desk.
“We prepare ourselves,” Nico said, his voice sounding heavy and tired. You didn’t even blame him. He had been keeping on a confident front, letting the others think that they had this all under control because he couldn’t spiral. He couldn’t let them all think there was a reason to panic. You could only imagine how much harder it was getting with each passing day, with each attack.
Jesper raised his brows. “So you’re breaking the deal with the Rangers?”
“No,” Nico shook his head, letting out a long sigh. It had been a recurring argument between the two of them for the last few weeks. “If this means what we think it means, it would be more beneficial to us to have the Rangers as allies.”
“Unless they are the ones behind it,” Jesper retorted.
“I’m going through with the deal and that’s final,” Nico said, raising his voice a little. It wasn’t a lot. But it was enough for everyone else in the room to fall silent. “And if you keep being pissy about it, I’ll make sure you sit next to Timo at the wedding.”
Jesper gaped. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Nico’s eyes glimmered. “But I would.”
“Woah, why is that a bad thing?” Timo scoffed, looking between the two of them with a frown. “I’m a fucking delight.”
Suddenly, everyone else looked away.
Timo’s frown deepened. “What? What is everyone not telling me?”
It was at that very moment Luke walked through the door, foil packet rustling loudly as he shoved his hand in it and kicked the door closed behind him. He paused when he noted the tension in the room, glancing between everyone with pinched eyebrows.
“Damn, I didn’t know getting snacks for a team meeting was illegal.”
“Rusty!” Timo whirled around, his eyes gleaming. “Did they tell you too?”
“Tell me what?” Luke questioned before his eyes widened. “Oh shit, they told you John finally grew a pair and made a move on Candy? Huh, you’re much calmer than I—”
“JOHN DID WHAT?!”
Luke paused, his lips parting in realisation. “Oh. Whoops.”
Timo whirled around to look at you and then John, seeming to finally notice the arm the boy had wrapped around your waist. He gasped loudly, shaking his head as he placed a hand on his chest.
“And you all fucking knew? Oh god, the betrayal! It hurts! It physically hurts!”
“I am not sitting beside that at the wedding,” Jesper said, shaking his head. “Look how dramatic he is being!”
“He will mellow out by the wedding,” Nico responded, looking far too amused by the theatrics playing out in the middle of his study.
“It’s Timo. When the fuck as he ever mellowed out?” Jesper retorted with a scoff.
You turned to find John watching your older brother with a pinched expression. It would have made you snort if you couldn’t feel the way he was gripping your hips, like he was ready to put you between him and your dramatic brother.
“Welcome to the family, Johnny.”
John’s nose scrunched. “I take it all back.”
You snorted. “Too late. No returns. You’re stuck with me.”
“It’s not you I want to return,” John retorted, pulling you closer to him. “I’d do it all over again if I could be stuck with you for the rest of my life.”
“Sap,” you grinned, looking far too pleased with his admission. “Even if you have to take on my brother?”
John’s eyes softened as he turned to look at you. “Nothing could scare me away from you, baby. Nothing.”
You beamed. “Good, because you have about thirty seconds before Timo realises he has free will and a gun in his left holster.”
There was a lot that was uncertain about the future, but you were pretty damn confident that John Marino was not one of them.
Yes I write my stupid little mini crime shows with the grump detective and sunshine non-police sidekick and yes I will continue to do it bc I need some happiness in this world
This is a post aimed at me and other people who constantly fall into guilt spirals over all the things they can’t do, and feel they should somehow magically be able to do anyway.
For me, and for the others, this is a gentle reminder:
- Posts asking for monetary donations are speaking to people who have money. Not your broke ass, still worrying how to buy food next month.
- Posts asking you to care about [extreme injustice of the day] are speaking to people who have energy to care. Not you, hanging onto your sanity by the fingernails.
And, most importantly: posts telling you that you are horrible/cheap/awful/rude/unworthy/unlikable if you don’t pay/reblog/signal boost/care? Those posts can fucking die in a fire.
TL;DR: Posts asking for shit you are not physically or mentally able to give?
I’m starting my masters this winter turning 21 😭 I guess for me was good that I could stay at my parents home and didn’t have to move out due to being accepted to uni in our town and took classes over classes 😭 don’t recommend
Congrats, my love! That’s so amazing ❤️ What are you studying?
I major in finances and have as minors history although my main focus in my major is sports, luxury and taxes. I might switch the focus in master though again 😭❤️
[22k] in attempt to bridge the decades old rivalry between the two gangs, a marriage of alliance is proposed between the new jersey devils and the new york rangers. the last thing you expected was to find yourself offered on a silver platter to your enemies. and you certainly didn't expect your future husband to be the likes of the devils leader himself, nico hischier.
new jersey mob masterlist || nhl mob masterlist
warning: this is a mob au. topics and themes such as violence, blood, murder and gun use are prevalent and constant throughout the fic. please keep that in mind if you choose to proceed with this fic and the whole series.
read part two here
.
“You know I would never question your authority—”
“It sounds like you’re about to question it.”
“Are you really sure this is a good idea?”
The footsteps echoing through the long corridor came to an abrupt stop as Nico stopped walking. The second set stopped shortly after, and he turned to find his second-in-command already looking at him with a mixed expression. It made him sigh, pushing back the meeting they were currently walking to to the back of his mind as he turned to his closest friend and confidante.
The same man he had chosen to stand beside him in this lifestyle of theirs without a moment of hesitation because he knew no one would have his back the way Jesper Bratt did.
“Would there even be a point if I said no? It’s not like we can back out now,” Nico pointed out, and he watched Jesper’s shoulders slump a little like he was expecting that answer.
Jesper gritted his teeth. “I just don’t understand why you are doing this.”
“It’s for an alliance, Jesper, we’ve been over this,” Nico said, and despite himself, his eyes softened a little when he noted the hint of concern in his second-in-command‘s face. “We have too many enemies for our own good. We need to have people we can trust.”
His eyes narrowed. “And you think you can trust them?”
“Just as much as they can trust us,” Nico replied, though the response sounded way too rehearsed and planned, even to his own ears. “We need this as much as they do.”
“We have plenty of enemies you could have negotiated an alliance with,” Jesper pointed out. “We could have strengthened the bond with Philadelphia. Or even the Sabres. Hell, Nico, you could have even tried to fix things with the Panthers down south. Why in loving fuck would you pick the Rangers?”
Nico remained silent.
“Because you want something from them,” Jesper murmured, realisation clicking into place as he carefully noted Nico’s expression. “Or someone.”
“I am doing it for the sake of the gang,” Nico answered simply.
A slow smile spread across Jesper’s face. “Us, huh?”
“Shut up.”
“You know, as your second-in-command, surely I deserve to know what your game plan is.”
“My game plan is to get to this meeting and sign the papers to start a new era of alliance with the New York Rangers,” Nico stated, his voice simple and blunt, but Jesper knew better. “That is all.”
“Nothing else?”
“Nothing else.”
“Hm, sure.”
Nico shot the boy a look over his shoulder, but Jesper just grinned in response.
“I should’ve brought Palat with me instead,” he grumbled under his breath, lips twitching upwards when he heard Jesper let out a noise of disagreement. “C’mon, don’t wanna be late.”
“Please, we are already thirty minutes early.”
“Walk faster.”
…
“Stop making that face.”
Silence.
“You look prettier when you smile.”
Silence.
“Rogue, baby, come on. Don’t be like that—”
Your hand snapped out, your fingers wrapped around his wrist and halting his actions before he could even reach out to touch you. You turned your head to look at him for the first time since you left the house back in New York, your glare icy and cold.
“Don’t try to fucking touch me again.”
Jacob Trouba stared back at you, his face remaining impressively blank but you noted the small twitch in his jaw. It wasn’t often someone talked back to the boss of the New York Rangers and didn’t face some consequence, but you guessed you were getting a pass due to current circumstances.
“Play nice,” he said eventually as he leaned back against his chair. You sat in the seat next to him to his right, with two men settled behind. Jacob had said they didn’t need any more men in the room, but you knew well enough that he would have some of his men crawling within a block radius of the building. “And try not to be too difficult.”
“You picked the wrong woman then,” you retorted, your whole body feeling stiff and on edge as you glanced over at the clock above the door. Two more minutes before the meeting was set to begin. “There’s still time to change. There’s always—”
“Not happening.”
You gritted your teeth together.
“Smile.”
“Don’t fucking test me right now.”
You heard one of the boys choking on a laugh, quickly trying to cover it up with a laugh. You didn’t need to turn your head to know that Jacob was probably glaring at them.
You couldn’t even find it within yourself to smile at the interaction.
When Jacob had called you into his office two weeks ago, you honestly thought he was joking. He had told you about the offer the Devils had offered, a few other members of his inner circle in the room as the lot of you discussed it. Most of you mocked it, talked about how it was a fucking joke that such a deep, historical rivalry was meant to be fixed with one marriage. Jacob himself had made a few teasing comments during the whole thing.
Then, a week later he told you he was actually contemplating it.
And then, just this morning, he gave you next to no warning that it would be you heading across the river to marry one of the Devils boys.
Your reaction was as one expected when they were told they were practically being sold off for the sake of an alliance—you were fucking pissed. You laughed it off but when he didn’t join, you felt an unexplainable rage bubble inside you.
You knew how this world worked. You knew the reality and the politics of mob life. You knew nothing but mob life. And you knew very well the way women were seen in the eyes of the mob, the way they were seen as objects more so than humans. You had seen friends close to you be shipped across the country for the sake of alliance arranged marriages.
But never once did you think it would be you.
Never once did you think Jacob would pull this shit on you.
And for an alliance with the Devils, of all fucking people.
You weren’t the kind of girl that mob men liked. You weren’t quiet or compliant or a pushover. You weren’t the kind of girl they liked to have on their arm to show off. You weren’t the kind of girl to be a mob wife, full stop.
Jacob knew this. He knew it better than anyone. It was the main fucking reason you were close to him, that you had his respect, that you were one of the few people in his inner circle that he trusted beyond belief.
And he had thrown it back in your face.
You hadn’t spoken to him after your initial outburst. Once your throat was raw and your hands were shaking with rage, you had turned on your heel and walked out the room. He had tried to speak to you, quite a few of the boys did. But you remained silent for the whole ride over, for the hours that passed, for the whole day until a few minutes ago.
“You are being fucking ridiculous right now.”
A muscle in your jaw twitched, an overbearing urge to turn in your seat and spit out every thought you had bubbling in your mind since this morning, but your attention was quickly diverted by the sound of the door opening.
You had encountered many of the Devils before, though not many of their faces were familiar and recognisable. It was good to know one’s enemy, to know the strongest and weakest points of their group. You had studied them far more than you cared to admit, probably more so than needed over the years.
However, years of meetings and unfortunate accounts meant you recognised the faces that walked through the door, but the last person still took you by surprise. You knew he would be here, you expected as much.
But never once had you met Nico Hischier in the flesh.
His reputation preceded him. You had heard a lot about the man, most of it surrounding the young age he stepped into power for the Devils. You knew what the other organisations thought about him, the whispers and rumours that travelled outside of New York where the hatred and rivalry wasn’t so prominent.
He was seen to be…fair.
You didn’t think it was necessarily possible to be considered fair in the life you all were in.
“Hischier.”
You watched the man stop at the other side of the table, making a point of dragging the chair out and settling down comfortably. He waited a few moments as his men stood behind him in formation, and only after they were comfortable, did he speak.
“Trouba.”
You could only imagine how much he was seething. A small part of you enjoyed it, even if you didn’t turn to watch his expression closely.
“I assume you still agree to the terms of our deal.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement that laid heavy in the air between the two men.
“As long as nothing has changed on your side.”
Jacob’s lips twitched. “Now, Nico, what kind of man would you take me for? This is about an alliance.”
Nico raised his brows a little. “To the start of a new beginning.”
Jacob’s eyes shifted away from the man he had called his mortal enemy for years now, and instead shifted to you. “Your boys will like her.”
Your jaw clenched.
“A wife isn’t meant to be shared,” Nico retorted, though there was a hint of something in his voice you couldn’t establish. “Though, I am not sure how things are run in New York.”
Jacob laughed, but it wasn’t one of amusement like the room pretended it was. “Of course not. I am sure—”
“Do I get to know who I’m marrying now?” You spoke up, watching as every pair of eyes in the room turned to you. They were heavy and judging and focused, but your expression remained impassive. “Or am I expected to just sign a paper and be done with it?”
Nico’s eyes fell onto you, something swirling in them that felt strong and captivating and almost made you want to lean a little closer to read whatever was written in them. He tilted his head, almost like he was inquiring your words before he spoke.
“You’ll be my wife.”
You froze, blinking.
Understanding washed over Nico’s expression. “You didn’t know.”
“No,” you gritted out, your nails digging into your palm as that bubbling rage from earlier returned. “I did not.”
Nico’s eyes shifted to Jacob, and you resisted the urge to do the same.
“I didn’t see it necessary information to share,” was all Jacob responded with.
You bit your tongue.
“Hm,” Nico hummed, seeming to have a lot more to say but resisting the urge to do so. His eyes lingered on Jacob for a few moments, analysing and observing before his gaze settled on you again. “Are you returning to New Jersey with us, or do you wish to return to New York to collect your things?”
You opened your mouth but Jacob bet you to it.
“She will go with you once the marriage is official.”
Nico didn’t take his eyes off you. “I wasn’t asking you, Trouba.”
You heard someone cough behind you, but you found yourself staring right back at Nico.
He raised his brows in question.
And you could feel Jacob’s eyes boring into your side.
And maybe it was petty or maybe it was fuelled by the lingering anger you had towards the man, but you kept your eyes on Nico as you spoke.
“Might as well get used to New Jersey as soon as I can, no?” You stated simply, but you could have sworn he almost looked pleased with your response before his eyes returned to Jacob.
“Then it’s settled,” he said as he pushed himself off his chair, the two men behind him quickly taking a step closer as if on instinct. “We’ll be sure to send you a wedding invitation.”
…
You thought you had an idea what it would be like to live with the New Jersey Devils, truthfully because you didn’t assume it would be all that different to life with the Rangers. You weren’t naive enough to think both organisations were run the exact same way, but you assumed there would be a lot more similarities than there actually were.
The first thing that caught you by surprise was the way they talked.
You hadn’t spoken a word as you left the room, not taking Nico’s offer to say your goodbyes to the Rangers you had come with. The last thing you needed to hear was an earful from Jacob for not following his orders, or his plan (the one he conveniently kept to himself and expected everyone to simply know). You followed Nico out the door, trying not to feel so on edge about having the two other Devils flanking you from behind.
When you reached the car, it wasn’t too much of a surprise that Nico reached to open your door. Most men were raised to act like gentlemen in this life, even if they were far from it. He waited until you were settled in the seat behind the passenger’s seat, seatbelt clicked in place before he closed the door.
You were somewhat surprised to find him round the car and settle on the other side of the backseat, and not sit in the front. You tried not to stare at him too much.
You expected the drive back to be similar to the journey you had with Trouba this morning. It almost startled you the way the three of them instantly broke out into conversation.
It wasn’t anything damning or secretive, but it still felt wrong to listen in. It felt wrong for them to talk in front of you. It felt like a culture shock, being in a car and not having the people inside the vehicle with you being overly paranoid at the car being tapped. It felt weird that they didn’t even hesitate, didn’t even wait until the dark haired man (the vague memory of his name on the tip of your tongue) in the front had turned the key in the ignition.
“I get to choose the music since I rode shotgun!” The blond in the passenger seat blurted out before the car had even reversed out of its space.
“Fuck off, you like my music!” Nico snapped back.
“Sure, Boss, sure.”
You blinked.
The fact they spoke was one thing, but you certainly didn’t expect them to talk to each other like that. The fact they spoke to Nico—their boss—like that. It was far from what you were expecting.
“Back me up, Siegs,” the blond tried again but the man in the driver’s seat just snorted.
“I don’t care, Jesper,” Jonas replied, though there was a smile on his face.
Jesper let out a huff. “You are so fake in front of him, I know you hate it.”
Jonas only shrugged in response, which made Nico’s smile widen a little.
You tried not to gape at the three of them, but it was a little difficult. It wasn’t like you expected to be treated like an outcast—although, maybe you did—but you certainly weren’t expecting them to seem so…relaxed around you.
The silence that usually filled the Rangers car was nowhere to be seen. The underlying tension between the boss and his men was non-existent. It almost felt like you were sitting in a car full of friends. Maybe even a family.
It was a little disconcerting.
The second thing that caught your attention amongst everything else was the way they treated you.
You knew the expectations of a mob wife. You knew that arranged marriages, like yours and Nico’s, had been happening for decades now. You had seen many play out with your own eyes back with the Rangers, saw what was expected of these women who were thrown into new homes and lives for the sake of alliances, money and more.
It wasn’t a surprise when Nico led you through the house, guiding you upstairs with a hand placed in the dip of your back. The shock came when he stopped suddenly outside a door, turning to you with an expectant look.
“This is your room. I thought you would want to rest for tonight, maybe have some time to yourself,” Nico explained, polite and curt, like a true gentleman. “I can have some dinner sent up to you. And my office is just down the hall. Feel free to knock if you need anything.”
You stared at him with a confused expression.
Nico’s brows furrowed a little in response. “Sorry, is that okay? You look…lost.”
“You said your room,” you said, though the boy still looked a bit confused. “Instead of ours.”
“Oh,” Nico nodded, realisation dawning over his expression before he gave you a polite smile. “My room is the next one over.”
Your eyes narrowed in suspicion. “We aren’t sharing a room?”
“We aren’t married,” he stated simply.
“Do you expect us to share a room after we are married?” You asked.
His expression remained impassive and unreadable. “If you wish so.”
There was a small voice in the back of your head telling you he was being genuine, and yet, somehow, that only made your confusion grow.
“Goodnight, Rogue,” was all Nico said before he headed down the hall, leaving you lost in your own thoughts and suspicions and mixed emotions.
You thought there was nothing less that the New Jersey Devils could do to catch you by surprise. And you were very wrong about that.
You had hardly slept the night before. There was something unsettling being away from the place you had called home your whole life. There was something even more unsettling knowing you were in enemy territory—even if you couldn’t really call it that anymore. There was just something unsettling about lying in a bed, knowing that you didn’t know a single soul beyond the door.
And after tossing and turning, you had mostly given up by the time someone knocked on your door just after nine in the morning.
You had almost expected that yesterday was the last you would see of Nico before he rushed off, hiding away in his office or meetings or whatever other excuses he could make to avoid you. You certainly weren’t expecting to find him on the other side of your door, a polite smile on his face once again.
“Good morning,” he greeted you, his hands tucked behind his back. The sun had barely been in the sky for a few hours and the man was dressed immaculately in a shirt and suit pants, looking far too put together. “Sleep well?”
“Yes,” you lied, because it wasn’t exactly like you wanted to get into the details with your soon-to-be husband. “Can I help you?”
“Oh yes,” he cleared his throat a little, taking a step back and only then did you realise he wasn’t alone. The boy beside him was taller, a little skinnier too. With curly hair and a baby face, you would guess he was at least a couple of years younger than Nico. “This is Luke.”
You glanced over the boy before your gaze returned to Nico. “Is he my babysitter?”
Nico’s lips twitched upwards. “I was going to say bodyguard.”
“Semantics.”
Luke cleared his throat a little, ducking his head down but not fast enough for you not to see the small smirk playing on his lips.
Nico straightened his spine before he spoke, his expression impassive again. “He can help you with whatever you need. And if he can’t, then he knows someone who can.”
“Let me guess,” you started, leaning against the door as you surveyed the older man with a knowing look. “He’s under strict orders to make sure I don’t run off?”
Nico’s brows furrowed together. “Of course not. If you wish to go out somewhere, Luke will accompany you.”
You could only blink in response. You felt as though you had been doing that a lot lately.
“Oh.”
You didn’t remember what else Nico had said before he ran off, muttering something about a meeting and someone called Jack—the name familiar once again—blowing up his phone. Truthfully, you weren’t sure if it mattered. Everything in the last twenty-fours had thrown your life upside down, you didn’t think you could handle much more.
And then Luke turned to you with a shit-eating grin on his face and said, “wanna go get McDonald’s breakfast?”
…
You had come to realise that despite his baby face and slight cartoonish laugh, Luke wasn’t as bad as you expected him to be.
Back in New York with the Rangers, you had crossed paths with your fair share of young and ambitious members. They were dedicated and strong-willed and determined to do anything to prove themselves to the cause, to prove themselves to their boss. They were willing to be ruthless, merciless and cold-hearted.
New Jersey was very different.
There was a strong lack of fear in the air, replaced with something more akin to encouragement. The boys here didn’t fear to make mistakes as badly as you had seen in the Rangers. They followed the rules and did what they were told because they wanted to, because they wanted to thrive. Not because they were scared of what would happen to them otherwise.
Truthfully, you didn’t know how you felt about it.
“Every week?”
“Every week,” Luke confirmed with a nod.
“Without fail?”
“Mhm,” he nodded once again.
“Everyone?”
“Usually,” Luke answered, pausing for a moment before he shrugged. “Unless someone has something else on. But nobody actively goes out of their way to miss it. Candy would kill them.”
You paused for a moment, your brows furrowed together as you tried to put a face to the name, only to come short. In your defence, though it had been close to a week since you arrived, most of your time had been spent with Luke. You would see people here and there, wandering around the house or passing by, and Luke would always try to inform you on who they were as best he could. But there were so many new names and new faces and new…everything to get used to.
You still felt like an outsider wandering the halls.
You still felt pretty pissed that Trouba, or any of the Rangers back home for that matter, hadn’t tried reaching out to you.
You still felt very fucking confused on the fact you had yet to see Nico since the day he brought you to Jersey. It seemed as though he was hiding away to avoid you after all.
“You’ll know her when you see her,” Luke informed you, seeming to pick up on the confusion on your face. “She’s the loud one in colourful clothes who has a guy resembling a lovesick puppy following her around.”
You raised your brows in question.
“Long story,” Luke snorted. “But where Candy goes, John follows.”
You nodded. “And John is…”
“Tall guy, dark curly hair, always silently brooding and judging people,” Luke listed off like it would help. “He kinda looks at you like he wants to kill you.”
You let out a huff of amusement. “You sure he doesn’t just do that to you?”
Luke paused, almost as though he was having a revelation.
Your lips twitched upwards. And then, because apparently you couldn’t keep a nice thing going, you found yourself asking, “are you even supposed to be telling me all this?”
He frowned. “What? That John is kinda emotionally constipated?”
“I—” You paused, your nose scrunching up a little. “What? No. Just about everyone in general.”
Luke stared at you. “Why wouldn’t I tell you?”
“Information,” you replied with a shrug of your shoulders.
“Anyone with two working eyes could see half the shit I tell you,” Luke retorted with a snort. “It’s hardly confidential information when I tell you what a pain in the ass Jack is. Or that Dawson goes through three bottles of shampoo in a month. Or that—”
“That you are scared of spiders?” You interrupted, something close to a teasing smile on your lips as you watched the boy scoff.
“I’m not!” He insisted. “That spider just caught me by surprise.”
“You screamed.”
“I wasn’t expecting to see it.”
And even if you never said it to Luke, it was weird he was being so open with you about the members of the New Jersey Devils. Every piece of information—no matter how small or insignificant—could be used against you. It was a life motto, one ingrained into you when you grew up as a Ranger. It felt like a basic life rule everyone followed.
At least, it did back in New York.
In New Jersey, it seemed like the second you stepped foot onto their premise, they saw you as one of their own. And once you were one of their own, there were no secrets between you. Everyone knew everything about everyone—or at least, a general understanding. No one was shying away from each other, from you.
You didn’t know how you felt about it, but it did make your heart pine for something familiar. For something that felt like home.
And New Jersey would never be that.
…
To your utter surprise, the next time you saw Nico was that following Sunday.
You weren’t naive to think he would be glued to your side, that much was confirmed when he ordered Luke to be your round-the-clock bodyguard. He wanted to keep an eye on you, he just didn’t want to be the person to do it. You were somewhat surprised he didn’t send one of the bigger guys—like Kevin or Kurtis—to be your bodyguard, someone to intimidate you. Though, you assumed he was probably saving them for more important jobs than a glorified babysitter.
Your days had been blurring into one, and though you hadn’t spent much time in Jersey, it had felt like a lifetime.
Your life was stuck in routine and you had gotten pretty used to it by that point.
Luke would be at your door by eight sharp, ready to get the day started. You would share every meal with him, though it varied whether you both bothered in the kitchen or went somewhere out to eat—Luke had been enjoying showing you various places around the city. But that was about as exciting as your days got. You might bump into some others, talk to them, get to know them.
But your days were boring, pointless and repetitive.
The only slight change to your routine was Sunday. The unspoken but very relevant rule of every member attending the dinner, by your surprise, extended to you too. Luke had told you as much over breakfast, talking away about how Candy had been interrogating him on what dishes you would prefer.
You had told him you didn’t care—because you didn’t and you had a feeling it would give him a harder time with Candy, which amused you.
However, Luke had been frustratingly vague with the timings of everything. It wasn’t a big deal, considering you didn’t have much else on your plate to be worried about. But the limited wardrobe and Luke’s shrugged response when asked about the dress code for the dinner was turning out to be quite the issue.
It was somewhere just past seven when you heard three knocks on your door.
“I’m decent!” You called out, frowning at the few options hanging in your wardrobe. It was quite sad, to be honest. But you hadn’t had the chance to get everything transferred from your New York apartment, not that anyone from the Rangers seemed eager to offer their help.
But instead of coming in like he usually did, Luke knocked again.
You frowned, turning to look at the door. “Just come in!”
The door remained shut.
“You’re so dramatic,” you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes as you made your way towards the door. You reached for the handle, fully prepared to see Luke on the other side with his face in his phone or even giving you a shit-eating grin like he knew he got under your skin.
You were not expecting Nico to be standing on the other side.
“Oh.” You blinked. “I thought you were Luke.”
Nico’s lips twitched. “I gave him the night off.”
You raised your brows. “Oh?”
“There was a small change in plans.” Nico continued. “I thought I would escort you to dinner.”
“Escort me,” you repeated, something quite like amusement lacing your voice. “I didn’t realise these big dinners were so fancy. Should I change?”
“We won’t be joining the others this week. I thought we could have dinner alone,” Nico corrected, his eyes watching you closely like he was inspecting your reaction. “If that is okay with you.”
You tried to hide your surprise that he was giving you an option. A part of you wondered if it was a formality, something he phrased like an option but was really a command—something Jacob would do often. Yet, you couldn’t really find yourself imagining Nico was one of those people.
“Just the two of us?” You questioned.
Nico nodded before he spoke. “I thought it would be best for us to get to know each other.”
Your interest piqued but you didn’t show much as you nodded, telling him to give you a few more minutes before you joined him.
For the dinner itself, he led you away from the large dining room where you assumed the large group dinner was taking place. He didn’t say a word as you walked, seeming comfortable enough in the silence until you reached the room.
And Nico played the part of a gentleman well. He opened the door and guided you in first. He pulled the chair out and waited for you to settle in your seat before he even made his way to his seat. He reached for the wine and filled your glass before even daring to touch his own.
You felt on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“You look tense.”
You raised your brows. “Just what a woman wants to hear.”
Nico’s lips twitched. “I have a feeling that you wouldn’t care what people say about you.”
“Your feeling would be correct.”
“Your reputation precedes you,” he mused, leaning back against his chair with an ease only a man in power would have.
You tilted your head. “And yet, you still agreed to marry me.”
“Who said your reputation wasn’t what appealed to me the most?” Nico retorted, hiding the smirk on his lips as he took a sip from his wine glass.
“I am sure whatever flowery promises Jacob added definitely sold it,” you commented, unable to hide the bite in your voice.
Nico stared at you for a few moments before he spoke. “I do apologise.”
You raised your brows in questioning.
“For blindsiding you that day,” Nico continued. “I was under the impression you were aware of the contract.”
“Funnily enough, I was not informed my name had been thrown into a deal,” you replied, jaw clenching a little as the reminder of what Jacob had inserted you into washing over you. This was your home now, not New York. “Jacob knew better than to tell me.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, your name wasn’t officially included,” Nico added.
You paused, a crease forming between your brows. “What do you mean?”
“Just that the official agreement between the Devils and Rangers included me marrying someone but no names were included for technicality reasons,” Nico answered and it took everything in you to keep your face straight.
Up until this point, you were under the impression that Jacob had practically thrown you into the deep end with no warning because your name was the one on the contract. You had seen it time and time again in arranged marriages, you had seen demands to be made because men felt entitled to certain women or dangled them in front of the enemy as a bargaining chip.
If you were being completely honest, you had assumed that was what happened here. You had assumed back and forth negotiations had been made and Jacob had deemed you the best bargaining chip to get whatever he wanted from the Devils. The Rangers tended to be old school and traditional that way.
It never occurred to you that you weren’t a part of this, that you didn’t need to be a part of it.
“So, Jacob just offered me up to fill a spot?” You questioned, your voice remaining steady and calm as your mind swirled with a million thoughts.
Nico’s eyes glimmered with an unreadable emotion. “Something like that.”
Your heart was racing in your chest. “And any woman could be in my spot and the agreement would still remain?”
“I guess so,” Nico stated, seeming like he wanted to say more but he remained quiet.
“Interesting,” you commented, a plan already forming in your head as you reached for your glass. “You may have made a mistake, you know?”
Nico’s lips twitched upwards. “What makes you say that?”
“If this is to be my wedding, I want it to be absolutely perfect,” you said with a casual shrug of your shoulders, staring at the man across the table from you. “I refuse anything less.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Nico mused before raising his glass in your direction. “Do as you please.”
Your smile widened in response as you took a long sip from your glass.
You were going to break Nico Hishcier and you were going to make sure he sent you running back to New York, if it was the last thing you did.
And then, you would make Jacob Trouba regret even uttering your name into the stupid agreement.
…
“It was targeted?”
Jesper nodded, his face serious and shoulders tensed as he slid a copy of the official police report across the table towards Nico. “Last night,” he said with a heavy sigh. “They broke in, roughed the place up a little and then set it on fire. It didn’t seem like they found whatever they wanted so they burned the place down.”
“Talk about dramatic,” Jack grumbled from his spot on the couch.
Nico shot the younger boy a look before turning back to Jesper. “What did the police say?”
“As much as you would expect,” the blond shrugged. “They don’t want to get involved if it’s dirty work.”
Nico raised a brow. “And is it?”
“You tell me,” Jesper shot back, his jaw clenching. “Did your best friend Trouba mention anything about his boys’ weekend plans to break into one of our warehouses?”
“Bratter is feeling sassy,” Jack sang, snickering even when Jonas tried to jab him with his elbow to keep quiet.
“These attacks have been going on for months,” Jesper pointed out, his lips turned downwards in a frown. “And they aren’t going to stop until we retaliate.”
“We don’t know who is behind it yet,” Nico retorted.
“Of course we fucking do.”
“Jesper,” Nico shot him a look. “I know you don’t like my agreement with Trouba but he wouldn’t break it. We signed the truce.”
“It isn’t official until the wedding,” Jonas spoke up from his spot on the couch next to Jack.
“Jacob Trouba is many things but stupid isn’t one of them,” Nico sighed, ignoring the ‘ehhhh’ Timo muttered out as he leaned back in his chair. “And it would be incredibly stupid to target the people you are trying to sign an alliance with.”
“Still,” Jesper grumbled as he nodded at the police report. “One week earlier and half of our stock could have been up in flames.”
Timo raised his brows. “You think someone knew?”
“I think someone may be getting delayed information,” Jesper corrected.
“I want you and Timo investigating this,” Nico said as he tapped his finger on the file. “Dig out the reports from the other targeted attacks and—”
RING! RING! RING!
Nico frowned a little as the shrill of his phone echoed through the room. He ignored the boys’ curious looks as he reached for it, answering the call and lifting it to his ear. “Nico Hischier speaking.”
“Uh, Mr Hishcier, so sorry to bother you,” a mousy, timid voice spoke from the other side. “This is Jeff from the bank calling and—”
“Get on with it, Jeff,” Nico stated bluntly.
“Right, yes. Uh, there has been a suspicious amount of transactions coming out of your bank today and we wanted to inform you in case you wished us to freeze the accounts or—”
Nico tried to bite back his smile. “Where are these transactions coming from?”
“The last one to go through was a purchase of four hundred thousand dollars for…flowers?”
This time Nico actually let out a loud, boisterous laugh which caught both Jeff and the boys in his study off guard.
“What was the one before that?” Nico asked, clearly amused.
“Three hundred dollars spent at…McDonalds.”
“Keep letting them through,” Nico assured the man on the other side of the phone. “That’s just my fiancée having some fun.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry, Mr Hischier, and congratulations!”
Nico thanked the man before hanging up, throwing his phone back down on the desk before he turned his attention back to the meeting they were having. However, he seemed to pick up on the eerie silence and lifted his head to find all of the boys looking at him with various expressions painted across their faces.
“Out with it then,” Nico said eventually.
“Count on Nico bagging the most expensive fiancée in New York,” Timo teased, a shit-eating grin on his face.
But Nico just shrugged. “It’s her wedding day. She wants it to be perfect.”
“Even if it leaves you bankrupt,” Jonas snorted.
“As long as she’s happy,” Nico answered, sincere in his words.
“If only Trouba knew how whipped you were for his girl, he would have never agreed to the deal,” Jack commented, raising his hands in mock surrender when Nico turned to glare at him.
“She’s not Trouba’s girl,” Nico gritted out.
“Yikes, Boss has claws.”
“Anyone with a pair of eyes can see how whipped Nico is,” Jesper commented with a huff of laughter. “Trouba is, in fact, stupid if he didn’t notice. Now, can we please get back to the main problem before he starts singing limericks.”
Nico frowned. “Hey—”
“My money is on the Sabres being involved!”
“As if they even know how to light a match.”
…
“You look like you have had a busy day.”
You turned your head to find Nico standing in the door entrance, leaning against the frame as his eyes wandered over the dozens of bags in your room. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his sleeves were rolled to his elbows and a few strands of hair were falling into his face. It almost annoyed you that this was the most dishevelled you had seen him and he still looked so good and put-together.
“I decided to take it slow,” you answered casually, turning back around before you could see the smile tugging on his lips. “I didn’t want to scare Luke off too soon.”
“The boy is tougher than he looks,” Nico commented. “I am sure he can handle whatever you throw at him.”
Your lips twitched. “You weren’t the one listening to him whine about carrying a couple of bags.”
“A couple is an understatement,” Nico mused. “He’s still unpacking the car with Dawson’s help.”
You glanced over your shoulder, something victorious and smug shining in your eyes. “Is there a problem with that?”
Nico flashed you a smile. “My money is your money. My boys are your boys. Knock yourself out, schatz.”
You blinked, his words barely processing in your head before you realised he had already begun walking away. You glanced down at the countless bags littering your bedroom floor, most of them useless purchases you picked up to push the balance higher.
And yet, Nico just walked away without a care in the world.
…
“I really wouldn’t recommend this.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not listening to you.”
“Rogue—”
You rolled your eyes, listening to the satisfying clicks of your heels against the floor as you made your way down the corridor. “He’s my fiancé.”
“He is in a meeting,” Luke shot back. “He doesn't like being interrupted. Not even by us.”
“I’m not you,” you retorted, almost hearing the eye roll from the younger boy following behind you. “And I don’t care if he is in a meeting, he can make time for me.”
“That’s not how it works,” Luke muttered under his breath.
“It is now.”
“God, I’m going to have to plan a funeral.”
You ignored the boy’s last feeble attempts to stop you from going through with it—or to at least knock on the door—but it was hopeless as you reached Nico’s study, hand on the knob and opening the door before Luke could even think to pull you back. Or throw you over his shoulder and run back down the corridor.
The room fell silent as you stood in the doorway.
You didn’t recognise the men sitting across from Nico at the large desk. They were old and burly and quite literally looked like characters out of Sopranos. They turned to face you, eyebrows furrowed and lips turned downwards at the interruption.
You smiled in response.
“What’s the meaning of this?” One of them spoke, the Jersey accent strong and thick and coating his words generously. “We’re doin’ business here, sweetheart. Bounce!”
You glanced at the man, unfazed before you turned your gaze towards Nico who was watching you with interested eyes. “I need to talk to you.”
“We are busy here, lady, can’t you see?” The other man spoke, huffing and puffing in his seat and it took everything inside you not to roll your eyes at his tantrum.
“And now I’m busy with him,” you stated simply, arms crossed over your chest as you stepped further into the room. “Scram. You are done here.”
The first man huffed, puffing his chest out as he opened his mouth to say something but Nico cut him off.
“Go.”
Both men turned to Nico, angry and outraged. “You cannot be serious?!”
“Go,” Nico repeated himself, a little more firmly this time.
The men were smart enough not to test Nico’s patience any further, rushing out the room with their tails between their legs as they did. It almost made you smile the way they avoided your gaze as they did so. You heard Luke let out a sigh behind you, muttering something under his breath as he followed the other men out and closed the door behind him.
“You’ve intrigued me,” Nico spoke up, leaning back against his chair. “What could possibly be so important that you needed to discuss it with me?”
You grinned as you lifted the folders in your hand. “Wedding venues.”
Nico blinked. “Wedding venues?”
“Wedding venues,” you repeated, your eyes eagerly watching every inch of his face for a reaction.
It took years of training to school your features as Nico nodded you over, still relaxed in his chair as he smiled back at you. Back in New York, a move like this would’ve gotten you killed and yet here—
“Show me,” he replied.
Your eyes stayed on his face, waiting for a slip up as you walked towards his desk. You rounded the piece of furniture, pushing the boundary a little bit more as you hopped up on the desk and placed the folder down beside you rather than handing it to him.
“Comfortable?” He asked, his voice almost sounding playful as he reached for the folder.
“I’ve sat on more comfortable desks,” you commented offhandedly.
His eyes darkened a little at that. But before you could even bring yourself to comment on it, he was already opening the folder and scanning through the options.
They were obscene, if you were completely honest. They were tacky and loud and far from a place you would even step foot in, let alone have your wedding in. But they were expensive—so expensive that it would send a normal man into cardiac arrest to see the numbers beside each venue.
Then again, Nico Hischier wasn’t a normal man.
“Which one would make you happiest?” He eventually asked, lifting his head to look at you expectantly.
Your eyes narrowed. “Are you that incapable of making a decision, Hischier?”
His lips twitched. “And if I say I just want you happy?”
“I would say that is a weak man’s response,” you replied, lifting your chin a little. It was a testy comment to make, not one that many men in power would take lightly.
To your shock, Nico just laughed. “Then I say pick the church.”
You raised your brows a little—the church was the most expensive option on the list.
“Do you disagree?” Nico followed up, watching the way you stared at him with an odd look in your eyes.
“No,” you said as you took the folder from him. “The church will do.”
“Is that all?” Nico asked, something in his voice that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It was like he was eager, whether that was for you to leave or stay, you couldn’t quite work out.
“Yes,” you answered, though you made no move to slide off the desk just yet. “Seeing as I have nothing else to do in this place. Just a sweet, complying fiancée doing her duties and planning a wedding.”
Nico’s eyes glimmered in interest. “Sweet sums you up pretty well, no?”
Your eyes narrowed in a glare.
“I mean, by all means, take the honeymoon planning off my hands if that is what you want,” Nico continued, shifting a bit closer so your foot was nudging his thigh. You were almost distracted by the casual drop of information about the honeymoon he was apparently planning.
“You’re mocking me,” you stated bluntly.
“A little,” he mused.
“You know my reputation,” you added. “Surely you knew what kind of wife I would be.”
“I had my guesses,” Nico confirmed with a nod.
“And yet, here we are.”
“Here we are indeed,” Nico grinned. “Do you want to reserve the venue or shall I?”
It was safe to say Luke steered clear of you for the rest of the day following your mood after you left Nico’s study.
…
“You don’t get it,” Luke huffed, fingers tapping along the wheel. “This is the best bakery on the east coast, maybe even the whole country!”
You raised your brows. “Is that so?”
“Just wait until you try Peter’s strawberry tarts,” Luke insisted, so serious that it took everything inside you to not snort. “It’s like…heaven in your mouth.”
“Peter is just that good, huh?” You mused.
“You’re teasing me now but you will be wanting the guy to make your wedding cake after you try some of his desserts,” Luke stated confidently.
You had no real plan for today other than the desperate need to get out of the house. You were bored out of your mind and Luke was not too far behind, considering you spent almost every waking hour with the boy. It had been an offhand comment about wanting something sweet that made the boy grab your hand and drag you out of the house.
Luke was adamant that Peter’s Bakery in Hoboken was the best bakery in the state. You had been content to just sit in the passenger seat and let the younger boy ramble on about how all the Devils frequented there, that Candy was known to visit once a week, that Jack tended to hide out there after a particularly bad day.
It was endearing to hear about the place.
It was even more endearing that Luke trusted you enough to take you there, even if you wouldn’t dare to admit that out loud.
“Pete?”
“One sec!”
Luke glanced at you over his shoulder, grinning wider than you had ever seen before turning back to the counter. A few moments passed before a man walked out: brown hair, average build, a little mousy looking. And the apron covered in flour truly added to the baker charm.
“Moose,” the boy greeted with a large smile. “What can I get for my second favourite Hughes?”
Luke rolled his eyes but began listing off far too many pastries and sweet treats for two people to enjoy.
Five minutes later, you found yourself sitting across from the boy in a booth with a large variety of baked goods laid out on the table in front of you. It was borderline overwhelming and intense but you didn’t have the heart to stop Luke from ordering so much when he kept insisting on all the classics you had to try.
“So,” you began as the boy pushed a slice of apple pie towards you. “Moose?”
“It’s an old nickname,” Luke answered with a halfhearted shrug.
You raised a brow. “How old?”
Luke’s lips twitched. “Peter is an old friend of mine and Jack’s. He…he’s been there for us through a lot.”
“Because our line of business crosses paths with bakers so often,” you mused, lighthearted and playful. You could tell the words were heavier than he was letting on but you didn’t have the heart to start poking at old wounds. Not today.
Luke snorted. “Nah, he needed to lay low after some close calls. He made some deal with Nico. Boss offers him protection, he offers the best apple pie you will ever have in your entire life.”
You shot a glance towards the other boy, working away behind the counter with a sense of ease that told you he was comfortable, that he felt safe even being so out in the open and exposed to the public. It wasn’t something you saw often in this industry when people had a target on their back.
“He did?” You asked, your voice a little softer than before.
“He’s a good guy, you know,” Luke murmured in response, watching your expression closely.
“He has a reputation for being fair,” you commented absentmindedly. “Which is a load of bullshit when it comes to our work.”
“Not with Nico,” Luke retorted. “He is harsh when he needs to be. But he is understanding. He gets it.”
“Hm,” was all you could respond with, your mind spiralling with a million different stories of men in power that exploited and corrupted the world around them in the greedy hunt for more. You had seen men crumble under that desire, you had seen them sacrifice their lives and loved ones to get what they want.
You couldn’t imagine someone having all that power and not being corrupted by it.
“Hey,” Luke whined, all youngest child like, as he lightly kicked your shin under the table. “Stop procrastinating and try the pie!”
You rolled your eyes, making a show of grabbing the fork and cutting off a good sized chunk before shovelling it in your mouth.
Luke looked at you expectantly. “So?”
“It’s good.”
He blinked before frowning. “Just good? Are your taste buds broken?”
“Fine, it’s very good,” you corrected with a small smile on your lips. “But it’s not the best apple pie I have ever had.”
Luke raised his brows. “Oh yeah? And where was that?”
“Tony’s Tiny Bakery,” you shot back, watching as the boy huffed across from you. “It was around the corner from this cute Italian place that did amazing garlic bread too. I’ll have to take you one day, it’s only—”
And then you paused.
And it was stupid to say when you had quite literally spent the better part of the last few weeks in your new home, when you had been coming up to the three month mark in New Jersey. But it hit you that you would never see New York again, not in the way you had growing up.
You were a New Jersey Devil now. You had a new home and new territory. You had a new family you were supposed to be accepting. You weren’t able to step back in the city you grew up in, not without direct permission from the people you used to call your family.
You had been so pissed that day when Jacob had thrown you into the deep end of an arranged marriage you had never known about that you wanted to get him back, you wanted to hit him where it hurt and have one last act of defiance. You had walked away from New York with no proper goodbye because you knew it wasn’t what he wanted.
And truthfully, it wasn’t what you wanted either.
You never got the chance to say goodbye to such a large part of your life and identity. You never got the chance to say goodbye to the people who raised you and the people you grew up with. You never got the chance to visit your favourite places in New York with the freedom of being a Ranger before you jumped ship.
It never really hit you that you missed New York as much as you did.
“I get it.”
You almost jumped in your seat when you felt a hand over your own, when you blinked away the tears welling up in your eyes to find Luke smiling fondly from the other side of the booth. You tried to pull your hand away and pretend everything was okay, but the boy tightened his hold on you.
“I know what it’s like to leave the only place you called home,” Luke murmured, his voice soft but thick with emotion. “It gets easier.”
You nodded, swallowing the ball in the back of your throat before you flashed him a small smile. “This apple pie is pretty damn good.”
Luke’s smile widened. “Of course it is. I don’t mess around when it comes to food, Rogue. Catch up.”
You let out a small but genuine laugh in response.
…
“How quickly can you get dressed?”
Your eyes wandered over your magazine page towards the boy standing at the bottom of the couch you were currently laying on. He was dressed in his usual attire—the shirt, dress pants and nice shoes that probably cost more than the average man’s monthly salary—and raised your brows.
“Depends,” you answered as you lowered the magazine you were halfheartedly reading to rest on your stomach. “Get dressed as in ‘we are walking around the park’ or ‘we are about to go to a gala’?”
Nico smiled a little. “More ‘wear something that is comfortable and easy to carry guns on you’.”
Now that caught your attention.
You sat up on the couch, the magazine abandoned on the pillow beside you as you stared at the boy with interest. “You’re taking me on a job?”
“I was hoping to use your expertise for something,” Nico said with gentle but watchful eyes. “Are you in?”
“Give me fifteen minutes,” was all you responded with before walking past the boy and towards your bedroom.
Less than thirty minutes later, you found yourself slipping out of Nico’s car and looking at the absolute mess in front of you with raised brows, a low whistle of surprise leaving your lips as you took in the damaged property.
“And this was done recently?”
“Two weeks ago,” Nico confirmed with a nod, frowning at the warehouse with a look of frustration and annoyance. “Third warehouse chosen. Fourth targeted attack.”
You glanced at him. “What was the other?”
“A person,” Nico frowned. “We were lucky that their plan failed, which is why I assume they began to target buildings instead.”
“Coward move,” you frowned, choosing to ignore the way Nico snorted a little at your response. “What did the warehouse hold?”
“Just some of our basic exports,” Nico shrugged.
Your eyes widened a little.
He frowned. “What?”
“Nothing,” you shrugged, clearly your throat a little. “Just a little surprised you told me, to be honest. I thought you would have given some weird elusive answer.”
His frown deepened a little. “Why would I do that?”
“Because I’m a glorified stranger,” you retorted like it was obvious.
“You’re my fiancée,” Nico corrected, his voice still serious and sincere as he spoke. “What’s mine is yours.”
You swallowed a little at his intensity. “So this mess is mine too?”
“Just like everything else I own,” he said with a nod. “And as much as is your right to be here as my fiancée, I also brought you because you’re smart. Because you know how to get in people’s heads. Because you’ll be able to spot things neither me nor the others will see.”
“Trouba’s favourite tool,” you deadpanned.
“You’re your own person here, Rogue,” Nico assured you, something else written in his expression that you couldn’t quite read. “It’s something you should get used to. You’re a Devil now.”
You didn’t get much of a chance to reply before he wandered towards the desolate warehouse, footsteps crunching with every step he took whilst you were left slightly baffled by the enigma that was Nico Hischier.
…
“So, is she in love with you yet?”
Nico shot Jack a look.
“Because from what Luke’s told me, she has been doing everything under the sun to piss you off. And I’m no expert in love but that doesn’t seem like something someone in love would do,” Jack continued as he settled happily on the couch in Nico’s study—one of his favourite spots.
“Did I not give you a job?” Nico asked bluntly, leaning back in his chair and sighing. He knew there was no point of attempting to do any more work whilst the younger boy was in the room.
“Yeah but we both know I’ll get to it eventually,” he waved the older man off, his hands tucked behind his head as he lounged back on the comfy couch. “This is far more entertaining.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nico sniffed.
“I have seen you shoot a man between his eyes without a second thought,” Jack mused, the glee in his voice unmissable as he continued to tease the older man. “And yet, I watched you have a full breakdown to Dougie on whether or not your fiancée would prefer your hair slick back or product free on the off chance you bumped into her that day.”
“I like to make a good impression,” Nico retorted.
“You’re trying to seduce her and failing miserably,” Jack shot back.
“She is my fiancée,” Nico huffed out.
“She is the girl you have been downright obsessed with since she knocked you on your ass four years ago,” Jack corrected. “And she doesn’t even remember.”
“I was undercover,” Nico defended. “Pally hardly recognised me that day, too.”
“Are you listening to yourself, Hisch?” Jack questioned, his brows raised in amusement. “This is getting a little pathetic.”
Nico let out a heavy sigh, raising his hand towards Jack for him to continue. “Okay then, what do you suggest?”
“Less mind games and playing the elusive mob boss character you’ve been trying out,” Jack answered, his voice a hint softer than before and it caught him off guard, “Be Nico—the real version.”
“That was very High School Musical of you,” Nico teased.
“I knew it was a bad idea letting you watch those movies,” Jack playfully groaned but he was grinning back. “I take it back, put the scary mob boss face back on. She is gonna laugh you back to Switzerland if you quote that shit to her.”
“She could be a fan,” Nico pointed out.
But Jack just shot him a look. “I know you’re blinded by love and all that jazz, but even you have to know that is a load of bullshit.”
“Go do you work now, Jack.”
The younger boy gave him a mock salute. “On it, Boss.”
…
In your mind, the plan was full proof, effective and successful.
In reality, it was a form of torture that didn’t have the results you wanted and instead left your brain scrambled on whether you really wanted it to work or not.
When you stepped out of that meeting room months ago, you were under the impression you were stuck in this arranged marriage with Nico Hishcier. A week later, you thought you had a loophole and a clear path back to New York and the life you had.
Instead, you were laying in your bed and reeling that although you may not be the typical mob wife, Nico Hishcier was far from the typical mob boss. And it was completely fucking with your plan.
And maybe you weren’t fully ready to admit it but it was fucking with your desire to go back home too—if New York even felt like home anymore. New Jersey was a breath of fresh air that you never knew you needed, that you never knew you wanted.
The Rangers may have been your family once upon a time, but the Devils felt more like the word than the former ever had. You felt like you were watching the family of them through a window, and you were starting to realise maybe being on the inside wouldn’t be so bad as you thought. Maybe being in a place where they valued and listened to you wouldn’t be so bad either.
But New York was all you ever knew, was all you ever thrived in. It was hard to just throw that all away.
Even if Nico Hischier was making the option of staying very appealing.
Even when some of the other Devils—the ones that weren’t your biggest fans—felt more welcoming than the boys back in New York.
Exhibit A: Jesper Bratt.
Nico had pulled Luke out for the day, saying he needed the boy’s help with a different job. He hadn’t offered to put anyone in Luke’s place. To be honest, you think Luke was only continuing with it because he enjoyed spending time with you too. But it had been Jesper who offered himself into Luke’s role when you had mentioned visiting a few shops in town by yourself.
It didn’t take a genius to work out he was suspicious of you.
You didn’t take it to heart, not really. He wasn’t going out of his way to make you uncomfortable or wary, but the lingering tension was enough to make you observe him with the same watchful gaze.
“You don’t like me.”
Jesper’s eyes flickered to meet yours in the rearview mirror before returning to the road. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “It’s written all over your face. And the extra gun you slipped into your waistband before we left.”
His cheeks burned a little at your words.
“It’s fine,” you assured him. “You’re his second-in-command. It’s your job to be wary, to have Nico’s back.”
Jesper hummed but didn’t say anything right away.
Instead, a few minutes of silence passed as you two made your way through usual Jersey traffic. The radio was on, but turned on so low that the two of you could barely hear it. The streets were busy, even for a random Thursday afternoon. It was like the world was going on as normal, despite the lingering tension in the car between you and the blond.
“I do like you,” Jesper said eventually. “I just don’t trust you.”
“Because you think I’m going to betray the Devils?” You guessed.
“Because I think you are capable of hurting Nico far worse than a gunshot or a knife in the back ever could,” Jesper corrected, seeming to catch the surprise on your face.
“You think I would hurt him?” You questioned, ignoring the way your stomach twisted at the words. Growing up in this life had meant you had seen far worse than a gunshot or a knife in the back, had meant you had done much worse. And yet the idea of any of it being directed towards Nico seemed to leave you on edge and make the hairs on the back of your neck rise.
“I think you are capable of a lot without even realising it,” Jesper answered honestly.
You didn’t reply to the blond but you wondered if your return to New York would hurt Nico.
You wondered why it made your chest feel tight and uncomfortable.
…
“So how did you get the nickname?”
You blinked out of your thoughts, looking over at Luke who was walking by your side. “What?”
“Rogue,” he said with a nod, like that was enough of an explanation. “Nicknames stick in this industry. So, where did you…go rogue to get it?”
You let out a small snort of laughter. “How do you not know it’s my actual name?”
Luke glanced at you, his brows furrowed together. “Is it?”
“No,” you grinned at him before shrugging. “I don’t know, to be honest. I just…never did well with listening to people’s instructions. It was a nickname my father gave me and I guess it just stuck.”
“You listened when Trouba sent you here though,” Luke pointed out, unfazed by the glare you sent his way. You assumed that was bound to happen after you spent almost every day with the boy for the last few months or so. He was bound to feel comfortable enough to poke at the uncomfortable subjects.
“Because I’m stubborn not stupid,” you shot back, giving the boy a look. “I value my life.”
Luke frowned. “You think he would’ve killed you if you didn’t comply?”
“He’s killed people for less,” you shrugged but noted the way the boy still looked uncomfortable, unsettled even. “He wouldn’t have killed me. I’m too valuable, even if I’m disrespecting him. He probably would’ve just put me on some really shit jobs until his ego was healed.”
Luke nodded, still looking quite on edge.
“Luke,” you stopped walking, placing your hand on his arm to catch his attention and make him stop too. Logically, you knew that he was a grown man and he could handle his own emotions. Especially in an industry like this. But another part of you—the part that had spent the last few months with the boy almost every day—felt the need to wipe that frown off his face. “It’s fine now. And it doesn’t matter.”
“Does it not?” Luke shot back at you. “You’ve been trying your hardest to find a loophole out of here, have you not? But you still want to go back there? Back to him? Even after everything he’s done to you?”
You blinked.
“I’m young but I’m not stupid,” Luke huffed out, shaking his head as he took a step back. “It’s—whatever. Let’s just go. You said you wanted to check out that shoe store?”
You took a step forward. “Luke—”
“We should head over now before heading back to the house. We—” He paused before continuing. “I don’t want to be late for dinner.”
…
You didn’t see Luke over the next few days.
He had sent a brief message about being busy wrapped up in a job Nico gave him, which albeit wasn’t the best excuse but you let him off. You weren’t sure what upset him and you didn’t think poking around and asking more questions would do any favours. So, you let the boy take his space and take his time.
It was Luke.
You had no doubts that he would talk to you again when he wasn’t as worked up or upset about the situation.
But the lack of daily companion left you feeling quite lonely, which was ironic considering you had considered your whole stay in New Jersey to be quite lonely as an outcast. You hadn’t realised just how much you relied on Luke’s company until he wasn’t knocking on your door every morning, convincing you to try some new outrageously overpriced cafe using Nico’s card to pay.
You broke around the third day, deciding to seek out your own company in the form of your fiancé.
“I was told you would be here.”
Nico lifted his head, peeking out from under the hood of the car he was currently hunched over. He glanced at you, an expression between surprised and elated as you stood on the opposite side of the garage.
“Is that so?”
“Mhm,” you nodded, glancing around the large garage with eagle eyes. “Apparently this is how you spend your limited free time.”
Nico stood up straight, giving you a full look at the white tank top clinging onto his torso. It was criminal the way wiped his hands on a random rag, his biceps clenching with the movement before he tossed it to the side and gave you his full attention.
“I like fixing up old cars,” Nico said with a shrug, though there was a sense of ease in his posture. “It’s relaxing.”
You blinked. “Tinkering around with some old metal is calming? Even if you can’t get it running?”
He laughed. “It takes my mind off things.”
“How…mundane,” you responded, your brows furrowed together as you glanced at the few cars dotted around the garage. You didn’t know enough to know the brands or names of any of them. You didn’t even try to attempt it.
“Mundane is nice sometimes, especially with the lives we live,” Nico retorted and you were inclined to agree.
“This still seems stressful though,” you added.
Nico leaned against the car, arms crossed over his chest like he knew it would snag your gaze. “And what would you recommend I do?”
“I don’t know, something normal people do to relax,” you shrugged your shoulders. “Like, go on a picnic.”
Nico paused, staring at you as he tried to fight the grin off his face. “A picnic?”
“I don’t know!” You threw your hands up in mock surrender. “People do it all the time in movies and shit.”
“What movies are you watching?” Nico laughed, though he seemed to enjoy watching the way you tried to hold back your own amusement.
“They have picnics in plenty of movies,” you argued back.
“Alright then,” Nico nodded. “Then we will do it. You and me, tomorrow at twelve.”
You blinked. “What?”
“We are gonna have a picnic and be normal,” Nico stated, leaving no room for questions as he reached for the rag once again. “Unless you have some super normal thing you do to take your mind off things to do instead?”
You bit the inside of your cheek. “Shooting range.”
“That’s what I thought,” he snorted as he flashed you a grin. “Me and you, schatz, at twelve. Don’t be late.”
…
A small part of you thought Nico was joking about the picnic.
A larger part of you knew the boy would be knocking on your door by half past eleven, dressed in a pair of jeans and a hoodie and looking so normal. So unlike the mob boss you know him to be.
And the white bucket hat on his head was oddly endearing.
In complete honesty, you hadn’t expected much from the picnic and how seriously the boy would take it. Though, you should have known better when he parked his car, an excited smile on his face as he led you towards the grassy patch in the park where a blanket and wicker basket had been laid out.
“Oh wow,” you murmured out as you walked towards the scene, his palm warm and guiding on the small of your back.
“Really fits the movie vibes, huh?” Nico retorted with a knowing smile.
You snorted. “I feel so normal right now.”
“Then my job here is done,” he smiled as he leaned back on the blanket, balanced on his elbows as he looked up at you.
You were surprised how far he ran with a passive comment. You wondered what it must have looked like to people passing by the two of you, if you looked like a normal couple on a date, enjoying a sweet picnic together. You wondered if it even counted as a date at all.
It was ironic that the man beside you had been your fiancé for the better part of the last four months and you didn’t know much about him, that neither of you knew each other all that well.
“What’s your favourite colour?”
Nico paused, looking up from the small plates he was loading up for the two of you. “My favourite colour?”
“Yeah,” you nodded.
“Red.”
“Favourite kind of music?”
“Swiss rap.”
“Favourite animal?”
“I don’t think I have one.”
“Cat person or dog person?”
“Both.”
Your nose scrunched up. “You can’t be both. That’s cheating.”
Nico raised his brows in amusement. “I don’t think I can cheat at a game I don’t know.”
“Just wanted to know what kind of man I am marrying,” you replied with a shrug of your shoulders.
“Is there where you tell me that being a cat person is your deal breaker?” Nico joked.
Your lips twitched. “It would be something I would have to take into consideration.”
“Might have to keep some secrets to save my marriage then,” Nico said with a sigh, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he smiled. You don’t think you had ever noticed that before. It was weird seeing someone in his position show any emotion but intimidation so easily.
You raised your brows. “Doesn’t everyone have a few skeletons in the closet?”
“Is this your subtle way of asking me what mine are?” He questioned, pushing the plate towards you. You were surprised to find a few of your favourite snacks on the plate. You wondered if he had bothered Luke or someone else to find out, or if it was a lucky guess.
“Would you tell me if I asked?” You shot back.
“I would tell you anything if you asked,” Nico replied, the playfulness replaced by sincerity that made your brain spiral a little.
“You know,” you tried to laugh it off. “I don’t think many people in this life agree with you there.”
“I’m not them and you’re not their fiancée,” he answered with a shrug. “Who gives a fuck what they think?”
You looked at him with a mixed expression. “And you’d answer anything I ask you right now?”
He gestured for you to continue. “Try me.”
You tilted your head, taking a few moments to contemplate before you spoke. “Did you know I was going to be the one waiting for you in that room?”
“I did,” he confirmed with a nod.
“And you had no issues with that?”
His lips twitched. “Quite the opposite.”
You shot him a curious look. “And if Jacob had lied to you? If there was someone else in the room?”
“I would have refused the alliance,” he stated simply, like he was reiterating a well-known fact.
You snorted. “Yeah, okay.”
“I would have,” Nico insisted, his expression remaining dead serious.
Your smile faltered a little. “Nico.”
“Rogue,” he mocked in the same tone of voice.
“You don’t have to lie to me,” you murmured.
Nico frowned. “Who said I was lying?”
“You would have refused an alliance that would massively benefit you?” You retorted, your brows furrowed a little. “Don’t be stupid.”
“Both sides went into that alliance wanting something,” Nico answered with a heavy look in his eyes, one that you couldn’t quite read. “I knew what I wanted and I wasn’t signing shit for anything but that.”
“And that was me?” You teased because the conversation was getting serious and your heart felt like it was in your throat and you were pretty sure you would lose your mind if Nico kept staring at you with those intense eyes. You were also pretty sure you would lose your mind if he looked away.
“Yes.”
You blinked, waiting for him to laugh but he didn’t.
“What?”
“I think you heard me clearly enough the first time,” Nico mused, watching the way a million emotions passed over your face.
“Oh,” was the only response you could come up with.
“Still don’t believe me?” Nico questioned, something like amusement in his voice. Something quite like a challenge too. Like he was expecting you to call him out on it, like he had been waiting for the chance to prove himself.
“And if I don’t?” You murmured, a little more breathless than you intended.
You watched as his eyes dropped to your lips, lingering for a few moments. “Then I’ll find a way to prove it.”
You opened your mouth to say something, though you weren’t even sure what. You didn’t know if you were going to beg for him to do it, to prove it. You didn’t know if you were going to tell him to stop playing whatever game he was playing. You didn’t know if you were going to tell him to fuck the vague, elusive chat and to just fucking kiss you already.
You were pretty sure it was most likely going to be the last option.
But you never got the chance to even utter a word before the loud, high-pitched shrill of a phone broke the moment.
You blinked, quickly glancing away and taking a few moments to ground yourself as Nico quickly sat up on the blanket. He patted his pockets before slipping his phone out, answering it with a slight peeved off look on his face.
However, that quickly changed when the person on the other side of the phone began speaking, the words muffled but the urgent tone was clear even to you.
It took less than a few seconds before Nico was scrambling to get up, abandoning the basket and blanket before he nodded for you to get up too. His hand was a little more pushy as he directed you towards his car, his face serious and almost murderous as he quickly got in the car, racing to turn it on.
“It’s Jack,” was all Nico could mutter out for context before the two of you were racing towards the house.
liked by hamsandwich, georgey, maxtheax and 75 others
y/nrussell so proud of my yellow for his 2nd 💛
view comments
kikagnome I cried 🥹
y/nrussell *we
maxtheax the British lad finally won, genuinely happy for you George💪🏻
georgey is the world champion congratulating me !?
hamsandwich haven’t I congratulated before ever ?
georgey… ofc, you a wdc as well
furalso excuse me !?
norizz the rookie wdc 🫶🏻
albono stop hogging the seat and let a young chap take over man
furalso you take of your seat, little young man 🫡
norizz so proud of you mate 💫 and I am glad you found a girl like y/n, you both are literally meant for each other ❤️
y/nrussell is THE LANDO NORRIS saying soemthing sweet for once ?
norizz take it or I will delete the comment 😙
albono he inspires for my first win 😤
chillsainz in that Williams ?
albono it’s your future too 🌝
chillsainz I won my fair share of races mate
maxtheax *3
chillsainz*61 😭
hamsandwich *104 😮💨
georgey stop boasting old man 👴
liked by hamsandwich, georgey, maxtheax and 68 others
y/nrussell kisses and sunsets 💋🌅💋
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georgey OYE
georgey STOP LOOKING EVERYONE
georgey Y/N, YOU ARE NAKED
georgey LANDO WILL START THIRSTING OVER YOU
norizz she is hot man 😃
georgey SEE, YOU ARE MINE
georgey MOI
pierreneedsgas as a proud French 🇫🇷 citizen, moi means me not mine
georgey CAN YOU NOT !?
pierreneedsgas ofc, my deepest apologies, do continue
lilihye ignore these idiots, love you look spectacular 🌟
liked by y/n russell
maxtheax george, that stupid kid only thirsts because apparently his daily night girl left him
norizz EXCUSE ME
maxtheax what!? You only came knocking, 4am in the morning to ask me for some “spare change” for her taxi fare ☺️
albono oooooo sweet, sugary, delicious tea ☕️
lordperceval alex says that if lando wants, she can set him up with her friend
norizz ALEXANDRA, I LOVE YOU, YES PLEASE
lordperceval dude, take the I love you back
y/nrussell Lando Noriss, can you stop thirsting over taken and married women of your friends ?
norizz alright, I will stick to the guy’s asses only 🍑
I am genuinely not sure why this is an issue, but for those of you who need the reminder, people are allowed to post about whatever or whoever they want on their blogs. You can’t control that and if you don’t like it, no one’s making you look at the content or follow that blog. Being rude and telling people what they can and can’t post is not okay, especially if it’s completely harmless and respectful. This app is a place for fun and creativity, a place for people to talk about their interests and things they enjoy with others and you’re not in control of any of those aspects on any blogs except your own. Be kind and respectful to others.
He tasted your lips again and again, hands tangled in the dark strands. As the Swiss man pulled away from the kiss he smiled at you. Your eyes fell onto the new ring on your finger, the fading light catching fire in the golden metal.
“Ich liebe di”, he whispered against your lips that tasted like cinnamon. You smiled against his lips, pulling him closer again. Your hands slipped under his shirt, running over chiseled abs down to the black pants.
“Love you too, Nico”, she whispered, kissing him against. Nico lifted you up, slowly carrying you to the shared bedroom in the lake house he had rented for the weekend.
“I love you too, future Mrs Hischier.” And then both of you got lost in each other as the sun setted and set the sky on fire.
37. putting their head on the other’s chest🩵 with john marino! maybe they are out after a game with the team and it’s just fluffy
congrats on 10k!
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
37. putting their head on the other's chest
.
It had been a rough season.
If you asked anyone what had gone wrong with the Devils this season, you would have received a long list in return. Between questionable line choices, goaltending issues, bad coaching and more injuries than one would expect, it was remarkable that they had as many points as they did.
And it sucked because they were a good team. Everyone knew they were a good team. They had proved it last year when they reached the playoffs. It was just shit luck that had been following them around this season that made each loss bitter and heavy.
But it also meant that every win was so much sweeter. When the team managed to grasp onto that flow, when the chemistry clicked, when they worked seamlessly like everyone expected from the young, talented team.
It felt so fucking good. It felt liberating. It felt like they were on top of the world.
“C’mon, it will be fun!”
“John—”
“Please,” his voice softened a little, but the smile on his face was still big and giddy and, truthfully, you couldn’t say no to him even if you really tried. “I want you there.”
“You should celebrate with the team,” you said, because he should. Because after the last few games being rough on the boys, they should be celebrating the win. They should celebrate the six goal win. They should be screaming it from the rooftops. “Plus, I just got off work and I don’t wanna intrude—”
“You could never,” John replied instantly, his brows furrowed in confusion. “I want you there. I’m serious. And the boys love you. And we can leave early if you’re tired.”
The last of your resolve crumbled. “If I fall asleep on you, you can’t blame me.”
His grin widened. “I never do, even when you drool.”
You gaped. “I don’t drool!”
“You do!”
But, despite the lingering exhaustion from the six day work streak you had been on, you still found yourself tucked away in the booth of a downtown bar. And it was easy at first, to get lost in the drinks and the adrenaline and the giddiness of the team celebrating their win. It was easy to get hyped off their energy, to join them in the laughter and the cheering and the bad dancing. It was so easy.
Until eventually the exhaustion caught up with you and you couldn’t fight it anymore.
You hadn’t even realised your eyes had fallen shut until you felt fingers lightly running through your hair. You had been tucked between John and Dawson, listening to Timo ramble off about some story that had most of the table in stitches when you started to lean on John more. Somewhere amongst the laughs, his arm was thrown over you and your head was lying on his chest and it was hard to fight the urge to just fall asleep there and then with John’s familiar smell overwhelming you.
“Tired?” John murmured, his lips brushing against the top of your head as you buried yourself further against his sweater-covered chest.
You shook your head. “M’fine.”
John tried to hide his smile. “C’mon, let’s get you back home.”
“M’comfy here,” you muttered, your voice hinting on a whine as his arm tightened around you.
“Promise you’ll be even comfier in your bed,” he said, pausing for a few moments as he watched your hand lightly fist his sweater like you were worried he would pull away. “Or my bed, if you wanna stay over.”
“You do have a comfy bed,” you murmured, words a little slurred as you spoke.
He snorted. “That’s the only reason?”
You lifted your head, slowly blinking your eyes open as you sleepily smiled at him. “Yup.”
John shook his head in amusement. “Ouch. Harsh. Gonna hog the duvet now.”
You looked far too smug. “No, you wouldn’t.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” he agreed with a sigh before he began to slide out of the booth, pulling you along with him. He decided to ignore the pointed and teasing looks his teammates were giving him, ignore the fact the boys would chirp him at practice.
And he decided he would ignore the warm feeling bubbling inside him, instead basking in the feeling of you tucked into his side and the way you clung onto him like maybe—just maybe—you shared the desire for something more than friendship too.
a tiny number 22 for you babe 😙 “always making another coffee/tea when they're making one for themselves because sharing is caring.”
Steve Harrington x fem!reader
If anyone else asked Steve if he wanted a cup of coffee, he would always politely decline. He didn’t even order one from the bakery across from Family Video in the mornings, always coming to the early shift with a mocha for Robin, a juice for himself and a few fresh pastries to share.
But when he heard you fill the kettle with water, the switch clicking on, he’d appear from whatever room he’d be in the apartment. Socked feet padding across the floorboards, his hair mussed from his pillow or his headphones, eyes soft and his T-shirt threadbare. He’d hum, arms wrapping around your waist from behind, squishing you both against the kitchen counter until you laughed. Kisses on your neck would make up for it, parted lips warm against your skin as you spooned in too much sugar, the room smelling like hazelnut syrup and Steve’s aftershave.
“Coffee time,” Steve mumbled and you snorted, because Steve would still claim he didn’t like coffee.
But this ritual had become one of his favourite things, mainly because you’d taken to curling up on his lap with your drink. A mug that Steve joked was actually a bowl, filled with the hot drink, syrup and sugar and cream making it a much more decadent treat than should’ve been allowed. Steve would smile as he followed you to which ever seat you chose, sometimes the kitchen breakfast bar, sometimes bed, but usually the huge armchair you had both thrifted upon moving into together.
Legs curled under each other, your body on Steve’s lap, his chin hooked over your shoulder as you read silently from your book and he watched whatever show was on TV. You’d take sips from you cup, passing it to Steve every now and then for him to do the same, his hands sneaking under your shirt to steal your warmth, to feel the softness of your skin.
He’d kiss the back of your head as you read, murmuring along with the dialogue of the movie he was watching, absentminded and happy to just be near you, around you. Big hands, warm from the shared mug, skating over all the bare skin he could reach, rejoicing in the softness of the morning, the warmth of you against his lax frame. Steve’s lips would taste like mocha, like hazelnut or caramel or whichever of your syrups you chose to indulge in that day. Gentle kisses, lazy kisses, the kind that would usually and inevitably lead to more, pyjama shirts and boxer shorts on the living room floor as he helped you ride him into the couch, bodies moving in a way that wasn’t much more than a languid grind against each other.
So no, Steve didn’t really like coffee. He just really, really liked you.
titsay
turnnoffyourmind
origamiaround
2087
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