“i won’t talk,” he said.

  the first punch shattered two of his ribs. the second had him coughing blood.

  “maybe we should snap your fingers so you can’t play than infernal flute,” van eck suggested.

  i’m here for her, wylan reminded himself. i’m here for her.

  in the end, he was not nina or matthias or kaz or inej or jesper. he was just wylan van eck. he told them everything.

evgeni malkin // taking your son to practice

warnings: none

who: geno x reader

premise: geno decides to take your son to practice with him


The first sign that something was up was the silence. In your house, with a four year old and a husband as loud as yours, silence was as rare as Sidney Crosby skipping practice: it never happened. Still, you managed to collect your nerves and allow yourself to look around before jumping to any conclusions. You figured Geno was already at practice, but you were surprised that your son hadn’t already woken you up to eat cheerios and watch cartoons.

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